Chap 31 -

Steve relaxed and enjoyed the ride. He had used all his para-cord to weave a towrope but it was working fine. It had just enough stretch to avoid any jerks when accelerating, but still gave a strong pull. He had attached one end firmly to Tim's bike, but had wrapped it around his bike in a way that enabled him to quickly release it if needed.

The first few miles had been an adventure of starts and stops until they had both gotten the technique down.
Rommel was enjoying his accustomed perch but the increased speed they were traveling increased the cooling power of the wind. He seemed to be smiling as they traveled.

Steve knew Tim was using additional fuel pulling the bike but had been more than willing when Steve had asked. Steve hoped they would make it to his home where he could refill all of Tim's tanks.

For a change everything was working as planned. The tracks were clear, no one was trying to stop them and the weather was even clear. Even though they were traveling only about 30mph it seemed to Steve that they were going twice that. As long as the railbed stayed flat thing went smooth, only when they came to a bridge did things slow down as Tim had to ride across the Tie's which could jar your teeth if ridden across to fast.

Within a few hours they had traveled through Georgia and were approaching the Florida line. Steve felt Tim slow down and saw they had reached the agreed upon stopping spot.

They had planned their travel to allow them time for a meal before attempting to cross the border into Florida.
With Florida closing its border except for convoy's of needed supplies and certain exceptions they needed to find a hidden location to cross.

Steve had planned to move away from the rails through Kingsland, Georgia and then cross the St. Mary's river between Hillard and Bryceville, Florida. Once across the River He could then once again travel the rails. A few hours later and he would be home.

Steve discovered he could put pressure on his leg without exceeding his pain tolerance if he took it slow. He was then able to ride the bike away from their stopping point without the complexity of being towed.

With Rommel walking point Steve and Tim slowly made their way though the back roads of Kingsland. It was awhile before they found a place that would give them the security they would need and be near a spot to cross.

Finding a suitable spot they made camp, glad to be off their feet. His leg, complaining about being forced to travel, had started to throb about the time they found a camping area. Steve removed his ponchos and plastic then set up a covered sleeping area. Tim fixed them dinner using Steve's stove and other gear.

They both finished their chores at about the same time. The tent was made and Rommel was chowing down on a large bowl of his special food. Tim presented a plate of noodles made from a pouch of Lipton's Cheddar Broccoli mix. A few pieces of Jerky made a meal fit for a king after their travels.

Steve made himself comfortable, elevating his leg, after dinner. Tim had cleaned up and also laid out his bedroll. Both men were soon fast asleep.

That evening they awoke and prepared for their entry into Florida. They needed to push their machines through an area of low swampy ground that none the less should be able to support their weight as well as the weight of the bikes.

Steve felt his leg was ready for the event, it was no longer sore when he walked, just tender. He once again removed the innertube flotation device, but did not inflate it yet, just wrapped it around the handlebars. They both waterproofed their gear as much as possible, sticking it in zip lock bags, wrapping it in plastic, or making sure the various containers and pouches were closed tight.


Steve also had to unbraid his rope since they needed the line to pull the tube back across once one person made it.

They slowly made their way to the water's edge, struggling together in a few of the lower, muddier places. Once they made the river Steve inflated the tube and lashed his bike and gear to it. He tied one end of the 550 cord to the tube and the other end to a sock with a rock and a small bottle they had found, tied in it.

Steve pushed off into the slow moving water hoping once again that the snakes or any gators were someplace else. For a change ole Murphy was on his side and all went well. He made the other side and found a good spot to leave his gear. Rommel had come across with him and, after showering them both off with a weeks worth of rain, laid down by Steve's gear (and his food) to watch the remaining show.

Steve walked upstream a short ways carrying the now empty tube. Finding a small mud slick finger projecting into the river he carefully slid out into the water. He tossed the tube as far as possible and then whirled the weighted sock around to gain momentum. He released the sock and watched it sail into the night. He had turned on his small Photon-light, placed it into the mouth of the Big Mouth Pepsi bottle they had found for flotation. The bottle reflected the light inside enough to give Tim a point of reference and allow him to find the floating end of the cord.

Tim was waiting for the light as it floated by. He had swum out into the river far enough to grab the sock as it floated by suspended at the surface by the bottle. Pulling the tube by its cord he swam back to his bike. Steve thought the tube would support the bike but how far above the water he did not know. They hoped it would still run after its trip. Steve had sacrificed a Ziplock bag to make a cover for the carb and they had attempted to located all the vents and seal them.

Tim carefully rolled his cycle onto the wet rubber of the innertube. Steve had inflated it to the max to obtain the best buoyancy and give Tim the best chance of making it across with his bike. Still he was ready to leave it if he could not make it across.

He used the 550 cord to lash the bike securely to the tube and pushed it slowly into the water. The tube kept going down as he pushed it off the mud bank, down it went until the bike was partially underwater. Then it started floating, sluggishly, in the brown stained water. He had not wanted to leave it behind and now pushed off with renewed confidence that he would make it across with his ride.

After a few tense moments Steve saw Tim as he reached the near shore. Steve ran over and helped Tim drag his burden through the shallow water and across the mud to firmer ground. Wet, but safe, and more importantly, in Florida. They sat down and enjoyed a few moments of rest.

They both caught their breath and then decided to try and wash some of the mud off of their clothes as well as some of their equipment. Afterwards it was time to see if Tim's bike would restart after its watery travels.

With the bag removed from the Carb and all the vents cleared Tim jumped on the starter. A few kicks later it was purring like before, no worse for wear after the trip.

They repacked everything including the now deflated innertube and started off for home.
===============
Chap 32 - Home

Steve was in a quandary. On one hand they were wet, tired and traveling in the dark in snake country, on the other he was more than impatient to be home. His intellect and his training said to stop and rest but his emotions wanted to press on home. Finally he decided to stop, both because he needed to keep his emotions in check until he was home and because he also had to think of Tim, who would keep going as long as he did.

He located a dry flat area and signaled Tim to pull over. The boy didn't say anything, but Steve could tell he was glad to be stopping. They laid out their plastic for a ground cloth to protect them from any moisture, and then removed their still very damp clothes.

Steve had refilled his water containers while he had waited for Tim to cross the river. Both of them washed, using some of that water.

They wrung out their clothes as best as they could, and draped them over a nearby bush. Dressed in clean clothes and washed Steve felt like a new man, but he knew the feeling would be short lived if he didn't rest his body.

They fixed a cup of hot soup, cleaned and repacked their utensils, then made themselves comfortable. Steve wanted to rest a few hours then head on home, he planned to make it about dark tonight.

===============

It was time! Big Gun new he had to take that farm house if he was to maintain his standing as head of the gang.

He was still uncomfortable about the attack, but enough time had passed since his brush with the woods' phantom that he had convinced himself the greyman was a ghost and therefore not real. He had sent three of his boyz to watch the farm but had not heard from them since, maybe they had ran out of batteries or something for them little radios they carried. He didn't know and was not going to spend much time thinking about it either.

He planned on taking six carloads of shooters. Ten of his boyz would attack on foot from different areas of the property while Big Gun took four cars full of hopped up gang-bangers and attacked front on. He figured the blitzkrieg (he liked that word since he had heard it on TV one night) would over run the farmhouse, and then the fun would begin. Just like every other house they had attacked. He had heard the best time for an attack was about dusk or dawn. He didn't know if it was true, but it sounded good and had worked for him so far. He would attack at dusk and be done with his bad feelings!

Of course Big Gun didn't think about the fact that his group was armed with only a few rifles they had taken from the houses they had overwhelmed thus far, or that most of his gang only had pistols. Two had managed to obtain AK-47's from the underground sometime in the past, and he used them as his bodyguards, but none of the group was trained in infantry tactics. All they knew was attack in force!

===============

Susan was feeling more uncomfortable each night Steve was not home. She had put on a good face in the kids sight but tonight she had just made it behind closed doors before she broke down and cried. She let down her guard and had an old fashioned, eye burning, slobbering cry!
She cried until she could not cry anymore, then she prayed until she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

She did not fool the children though, they both knew their mother was under a lot of strain with their father gone and the constant feeling they were being watched. Today things had reached the point that all three of them had started carrying their rifles and their buttpacks whenever they were outside of the house.

=================

Steve awoke with a start just as the first rays of light filtered down through the overhanging leaves. He had planned to be up before dawn but must have been more tired that he thought to have slept this long.

As Steve sat up Tim awoke and looked around.

"Guess you'll be home with the missus tonight won't you" he asked in a half-asleep voice.

Steve replied in the affirmative as he started fixing something for breakfast. As he waited for his water to boil he fixed Rommel's food bowl, but his mind was on the coming trip. He had remembered that an acquaintance lived not too far from here, they were not friends, but he had a feed store that Steve bought from sometimes. Maybe he would agree to drive them at least part of the way home and save some time for them. So lost in thought he did not notice the water was boiling until Tim asked if he was sterilizing the cup or something.

Steve snapped back into the present and added a coffee pack to the now boiling water. Steve munched a granola bar as he sipped his coffee not wanting to take anymore time for breakfast than he needed to. Tim sensing Steve's impatience did the same. Only Rommel seemed in slow motion as he ate his food.

Finally packed they started off. Rommel rode with Tim, laying across the gas tank with his paws on the tank bags Tim used for his personal gear. Steve sat on his bike, outriggers folded, as Tim pulled them along. He sat urging time to speed up and trying to curb his mounting desire to fly.

Even if it seemed to take hours, they were at the feed store after only about 75 minutes travel. The store was open, but had no customers this early. The owner greeted Steve as he entered. Steve had bought enough items here in the past to be recognized, even if his name was not instantly remembered. Steve explained his situation to the owner and asked if he could give them a ride. The owner was sympathetic but didn't want to use the fuel it would take to get them home. He did need to make a trip to Baldwin to pick up some supplies and would give them a ride that far since it was on the way. Steve had hoped for more, but beggars can't be choosy, so he graciously accepted the owner's offer and left to load their gear into the bed of the owner's large flatbed.

Tim enjoyed the ride with the excitement of a youth that still had not figured out the realities of this new life. Steve on the other hand grew more impatient with each passing moment. The owner had mentioned the raiders that had been expanding out from Jacksonville, stealing, raping and killing those in their way. A few had tried to stop them but no one had enough firepower yet to even slow them up. That information was enough to push Steve's patience factor to a new low.

They reached Baldwin and got unloaded by noon. They thanked the driver and decided to eat now since Steve planned to be home before dinner. They made a resting place behind the truck stop and unpacked their food.

A large meal compared to what he had been eating, was prepared. Noodles with cheese sauce combined with a pouch of tuna eaten with crackers, followed by an MRE pound cake covered with a pouch of Carmel ice cream sauce stoked their fires for the final leg of the trip.

Once again they packed and connected the towrope. Tim refilled his fuel tank, which emptied his spare tank but also helped his balance since it was not sloshing around on one side of the bike.

Steve lifted Rommel and once again placed him on the bike's fuel tank. The dog still was not sure what to make of his new riding place. The wind felt good, but it sure was noisy!

Tim eased the clutch out, trying to lessen the shock to the towrope and Steve, as they started off once again. The motorcycle handled the new duties without any problems, Tim just had to watch his speed or Steve would need a parachute! They had planned to arrive about dinner time which would get them there with a little daylight left. Surprising someone in the dark was not conducive to good health in today's uneasy life. Steve could have called his wife from the feed store but decided to surprise his family and forgo the call. He just did not want to get shot walking in the door by a "surprised" wife!

===============

Big Gun was ready, His boyz were ready and waiting for his signal, but he still felt uneasy about the attack. He wrote it off to the fact of having to travel down a dirt road to get to the farm instead of attacking a house on a major road. It might give the farm notice of their arrival. Still he knew his group could take two chicks and a snot nosed kid, couldn't they?

He had five cars full of shooters ready to attack even if they thought "trigger control" was how many times you could pull the trigger in a minute. Twenty-five guys ready for some fun started out. Two 1970's Impalas with six shooters apiece, a '72 Mustang with four gang members, both cars set up with hydraulics. They were followed closely by Big Gun in his baby blue Lincoln with his driver and a bodyguard. Bringing up the rear was a Toyota truck lowrider with six more of his boyz, four of which were not happy about riding in the bed.

The first car would stop and the six attackers would go on foot to the back of the house and barn to keep anyone from leaving the party early. The rest would charge in guns blazing. Big Gun figured they would take the house in the first attack, then "let the games begin"!

He filled his thoughts during the drive with images of the women and what he had planned for the young female, he was sure she would be impressed. He knew a couple of his boyz had intimate plans for the young male, each to his own, he thought. If they wanted a male when there were two female toys around it just left more for him. He unconsciously grinned at the thoughts that filled his head, the effect made him look like a Mardi Gras party mask.

The cars struggled with the dirt road, wasting time and slowing them down. The cars that were so cool on the streets bottomed out on the undulating, washed out, country road. Even the truck, normally the vehicle best suited for travel on this type road, got hung up on a particular bad section due to it being so low slung now. The hydraulics in the front cars had been adjusted to raise the cars up, but the ride was extremely hard on the unpaved road forcing them to slow way down as they tried to negotiate the bad road. The slow 5mph trip grated on Big Gun. Their enthusiasm for the attack had given way to the aggravation of traveling this p!$$ poor road!

Finally they arrived at the spot chosen to start the attack. They gave the walker's time to get in position, then accelerated towards the house.

===============

Steve was glad to see the exit. He had been unconsciously looking at each sign until he spotted "his" exit. Blowing his whistle and lightly applying his brakes to get Tim's attention he pointed to the right. Tim gave a wave and turned off on the exit. The trip had gone smoothly since traffic was so light. Steve had been afraid of being stopped since they were on an interstate highway but they had not even seen a law enforcement officer or roadblock.

They rolled to a stop at the bottom of the exit and Steve got off his bike to talk to Tim. He gave the youth directions to his turn off along with enough landmarks to ensure he made the right turns. Confident he knew the way Tim slowly brought them up to speed after Steve mounted the bike. They reached the turnoff to the first dirt road without any problems. Steve noticed the recent rains had washed out the road since he had been gone. Without the county crew to grade it, the road would only get worse over time, but at least it was still negotiable for now. Steve thought that it would be best to
unhook the towrope, and ride on his own for now. The road was in too bad shape to risk getting wrecked by the motorcycle getting thrown about by the many ruts. They noticed scrape marks made by several large vehicles traveling the same road recently. Steve hoped they were friendly ones.

================

Susan was inside cooking dinner with her daughter when the group attacked. Chris was still out by the barn when Simba, their large Rottwieler started aggressively barking and the sounds of several cars reached her ears.

The glass shattered in the living room just as the sound of gunfire reached them. Startled, she froze for just a moment then her mother's concern overrode her fear and caution as she looked out the window trying to spot her son.

She saw him beside the barn just as he stumbled as a bullet reached him. She cried out as if the bullet had struck her and started to leave the protection of the house and run to her wounded son but Chrissie grabbed her and yelled at her to get her rifle.

Chrissie reacted first to the gunfire, her time spent with her dad hunting and target practicing let her recognize the shots before her mother. She knew the amount of fire was not a good thing and reached for her carbine. She saw her mother start for the door of the house when she stepped back into the kitchen. She grabbed her mother's arm and yelled for her to get to her rifle and return fire like their father had taught them.

Susan let her anguish and anger fuel her desire to strike back at the attackers. How dare they invade her life and shoot her son! The calmness of an angry mother took over as she lined up her sights on the first car.

===============

God he hurt. Never having been shot before Chris didn't have any idea how much it could hurt. Still he was not dead yet, of course he would be if he didn't move. Even though he was not Steve and Susan's biological son he had developed a stubbornness early in life and had only learned to control and channel it when they had come to live with them. He used that trait to override the pain and nausea that threatened to overtake him, and stumbled into the barn. The 9mm round had not done any major damage, but it sure hurt like he!!.

He heard his sister and mother start firing as he pulled himself into the protection of the barn. He remembered the old Garand he had stored in the loft and started climbing the ladder.
===============

Big Gun was stunned. Everything had started off just fine, they had all seen the boy get hit in the first volley and cheered. Then the boy had got up and stumbled toward the barn. He always said his boyz couldn't hit the broad side of a barn and here was living proof as the kid made it into the barn despite all the guns firing at him.

The gang leader watched as rapid fire shots from the house rang out, striking the lead car. The high velocity slugs shatter the windshield before continuing on their mission. The third copper-jacketed slug breached the glass and entered the right eye socket of the driver emptying his skull contents onto the passengers. The splatters of gore distracting them from their firing. The suddenly pilot-less car continued on until it hit a 4 inch gate post.

Everything was happening so fast that Big Gun could not keep up with it all. One minute all was ok, the next, one car was hit and who knew how many shooters in it. What would happen next?

================

Susan lined up her rifle on the driver's side of the first car. With a steadiness brought on by a deep-seated primeval mad she fired round after round into the car, each round doing a little more damage. Finally one broke through the windshield, and entered hitting the driver. She watched as the car collided with the gate post Steve had installed last year, then switched her fire to the other car.

Chrissie emptied three mags at the lowrider truck. She could not tell if she hit anything but she was not about to slow up her firing to check closer. She changed mags again then switched her aim to the driver like her mother had done.

================

Chris struggled up the last rung of the ladder, falling onto the hay stored there. It was taking a lot out of him to ignore the pain and climb that ladder but he was determined to pay those clowns back. He slowly crawled over to the loft window reaching around to the case that held his goal. He opened the case and removed his fathers ODCM Garand along with a bag of loaded clips. Just as he recovered the gun he heard gunfire from the back of the property. He stopped long enough to tie his bandanna around his leg and staggered to the back window.

Chris could tell the shots were coming from more than one shooter but he could only see three. He opened the chamber to the old battle rifle and inserted a clip, careful to keep his thumb away from the bolt. Ready to fire he wiped the sweat from his eyes then lay down in the hay, sighting through the excellent peep sights like his adopted father had taught him.

===============

The toughguy called "Blackcat" by his peers had stopped near the edge of the fence line at the back of the barn. He had carried one of the hunting rifles taken from one of their raids, sure that he could use it. The first round he fired had pounded his shoulder so hard he had dropped the gun. "It sure kicked more that his .38 pistol," he thought. He rubbed his shoulder and lifted the rifle once again, this time making sure it was tightly against his still aching shoulder. Before he had a chance to see if the gun would hurt as much the second time, a 173 grain Sierra hollow point match round slammed into his side. The 30/06 slug pierced his left side underneath his left breastbone. Though the match slug didn't expand very much the hydrostatic force caused by the rapid entry of copper and lead into the heart ruptured that vital muscle into pieces too numerous to ever be put back together again.

The second gang-banger lived a little longer as Chris's second, third and fourth round missed. Snort, called that by his friends due to his habits, heard the shots but couldn't tell where they were coming from until it was too late. The throb in Chris's leg was throwing his aim off until he slowed his shooting, grit his teeth and aimed the old rifle correctly. The fifth and sixth round from the old warhorse cured Snort of his habits permanently, the sixth projectile erasing the thugs nose from the equation.

The third shooter spotted Chris firing from the loft and shifted his aim. He didn't think about the fact a 12gauge is not the gun to have when facing a rifle. The buckshot from the shotgun spread too much to do much more than rattle against the barn and give Chris his location.

Shooter three didn't know much about guns but he knew from watching TV you needed to move after shooting. That simple fact prolonged his life as the next two shots from Chris missed.

Chris heard the ping as the clip ejected from the Garand. He reached into the bag and extracted a fresh clip and once again the rifle was ready to hunt. He had fired at a third attacker hidden behind a tiller but missed with his last two shots as the attacker moved. Chris spotted a leg leading to a low mound of dirt. The shooter thought he was hidden but had not taken into account Chris's higher vantage point. Chris concentrated on the top of the leg allowing for the different bullet drop from his higher shooting point. The bark of the old gun surprised Chris, but surprised the target even more. The round entered the upper thigh nicking the femoral artery in passing. The shooter jerked up grabbing his leg as his blood shot up into the air with each heartbeat. Chris decided that was not bad shooting even if it was only about 50 yards, he had shot at targets farther but not with this weapon.

Hearing more fire from the front, and now that he could not see any more shooters in back, Chris tried to move toward the front and collapsed on his injured leg. Once his regained control of his pain he made a mental note not to do that any more. He crawled toward the front window and as he did he remembered what was in the box he had seen under the hay near the front window. With a smile on his face he increased his speed and headed for that box.

======================

Big Gun saw that the were in a stalemate. They had stopped the cars and were firing from behind them at the house. They could not attack nor could they retreat due to the heavy firing from the house. He had heard someone firing from the barn but since no round came their way supposed the fire was directed at his boyz in back. He heard the firing stop at hoped on of his boyz had got lucky and splattered that kid.

======================

Steve stopped his bike and listened. Gunfire like he had not heard since his time overseas was coming from the direction of his home. He still was about a quarter mile from there and had a sinking feeling he would be too late. He motioned Tim over and slid Rommel from his perch. Carrying his SKS and his ammo pouch he slid on behind Tim and yelled for him to GO!

They had not gone more than 100 yards when Steve heard a sound that brought a big smile to his face and lifted his spirits. He could not help but yell at that sound.

======================

Chris made it to the box and had to take a few deep breaths to regain control of his pain. He entered the combination his dad had made him remember and opened the box. Inside was the one toy that had almost caused his parents to split. Their argument was not so much what the item was, but the cost and the need for such a male toy as his mother had called it. His father had seen it at a gun show in Jacksonville and contacted the builder soon after. It was two AK-47 rifles with 75 round drums mounted together with a hand crank set to fire each gun twice per revolution(1). One hundred and fifty rounds could be emptied out almost as fast as a machinegun and it was perfectly legal. His dad had bought an old browning 30cal machinegun tripod to mount it on. Chris set the tripod in front of the window, then lifted the guns onto it. They were almost more than he could lift on his damaged leg but he knew the gun might mean the difference in the battle. He removed four loaded drums from the box and charged both guns.

Settling behind the gun mount as comfortable as he could he grabbed the crank and began to turn.

======================

"What the Fu*k was that!!" yelled Big Gun as bullets began striking all around them. Two of his group tried to return fire toward the barn and were mowed down before they could fire a shot. Three more went down as multiple rounds pierced the car body they were hiding behind and found soft, yielding flesh to enter.

Big Gun could already see this was not turning out as he expected. Who would have thought anyone would put up this much fight and what's with that freaking machinegun? Who could blame him for retreating. He would come back with a larger group next time. Big Gun eased around behind his boyz and snuck back while they distracted the family firing at them. He reached the wood line and turned to watch four more of his formerly indestructible group fall, then turned and started back through the same woods he had visited the first time.

=====================

Chris had lost count of the bad guys he had taken out. All he knew was rotate the crank then rest, rotate then rest. He did not want to heat up the barrels too much if he could help it, and he needed to make the ammo last as long as possible. Finally he heard the sound he had not wanted to hear, CLICK CLICK, as each drum ran empty. He released the now empty drums and mentally kept hearing his dad's voice telling him to slow down, slow down to go fast his dad had preached to him. Both new mags were seated with a click and he released the bolts with shaking hands and started cranking again. He knew there were at least two more shooters still behind the house but they would have to wait until the group in front were taken care of. He then heard two large booms from that area that completely overrode the much smaller pops from the attackers small caliber guns, then total silence from behind the house. He was confused by the sounds of the large caliber rifle, but could not think about it since the group in front were massing for either an attack or retreat, neither one would he allow if he could help it. He swung the twin barrels of death and started cranking anew.
======================

Steve arrived at the entrance to his property just as the twin AK's started firing again. He and Tim dismounted from the bike and started forward looking for those that would do his family harm. Heaven help anyone that had hurt them, he would show no mercy. As he neared the house he could see the cars and the bodies as well as those scumbags still alive and firing toward his house. Motioning Tim down he slid behind a tree and brought the rifle up. Starting at the near end of the house he started firing. Just like target practice, acquire, squeeze and repeat as each shooter went down caught in a cross fire they didn't expect. One by one they tried to shoot or run, which didn't make a difference to Steve, all he knew was that they had tried to bring death to his house and he would not allow that while he still breathed. Tim was not battle hardened or trained but caught on quickly as Steve started firing. He caught a young greasy looking youth, not much younger than him, mid-turn with a slug from the 357 rifle Steve had loaned him. The force of the hit slammed the kid against the truck he had been hiding behind and Tim watched him slide down the bed to fall in a lifeless heap.

Steve noticed Tim staring out of the corner of his eye. He yelled at the boy to get back in the game and heard the 357 speak again soon after.

With one final shot the last gang member fell and soon all gunfire stopped. Steve's ears were ringing from all the firing, but he managed to hear an intense growling and yelling coming from his left. He turned to see both Rommel and Simba playing ragdoll with one of the youths that had tried to run. Two angry dogs that size could do a lot of damage in a short time and their target was being torn apart when Steve's rifle spoke again to end the boy's suffering. Steve called the dogs off, and after three commands, they stopped and came over to Steve. "Well Simba I see you have met Rommel" Steve said to the big Rottwieler, "Hope you don't mind a new member of the family." Simba seemed to understand just what Steve was saying as the dog introduced himself to Rommel like dogs tend to do.

Once he was sure the danger was over Steve called to the house and started forward.

====================

Susan could not believe it. So much chaos and death in such a short time. She heard the firing of those guns from the barn and knew what Steve had done with that toy she had told him not to buy. Again she was glad to be wrong! As her adrenaline slowed she heard a voice she had almost given up on.

"STEVE!" she yelled as she almost dropped her rifle on the counter and ran out the door. She ran right into his opened arms ignoring the dead bodies and destroyed cars. Right into the arms of the man that had taken his marital vows seriously and made a way to protect his family when it was needed.

Steve just held his arms open when he saw the prettiest sight ever running out of the house. All he could do was hold her when she reached him. She tried to tell him how much she missed him, everything that had happened and cry at the same time. Though she felt wonderful there were still two more members of his family to check on. Kissing his wife to stop her blubbering he got her to stop long enough to ask about the kids. Here eyes got real wide as she remembered Chris getting hit. Steve could tell by her reactions that something was not right, and since Chrissie was running toward the barn he knew the problem had to be with Chris. He started to run toward the barn and reached it just as Chrissie pulled open the door. As they both entered the barn Chris called down, "Hey dad, you know that Garand shoots a little to the right?"

Steve could not help but laugh at the boy. Sitting on the edge of the loft blood dripping down his leg, pain on his face, but still finding the inner strength to not let his family know how bad he was hurt.

Steve climbed the ladder two rungs at a time and reached the boy just as he fainted. Steve lifted the boy over his shoulder and returned to the ground as his mother arrived. Seeing the boy over Steve's arm she expected the worst but Chrissie grabbed her and told her Chris had just fainted. Still worried she led them into the house and stood by as Steve laid the boy down on his bed and started removing his clothes. Susan directed Chrissie to get a pan of water and she went for the first aid kit.

Steve cleaned the wound and was glad to see that while the 9mm slug was a hollow point it had not expanded much nor penetrated much due to the distance and having to pass through the boys heavy denim jeans. Still the wound could be serious and he turned the boy over to Susan. She removed several items from their well stocked kit and started to work on the boy as Steve left to inspect the damage.

===============

Big Gun heard the gunfire slow, then stop and knew what that meant. With no more concern than you would give an ant when you stepped on it, the gang leader turned his back and started on back towards town to rebuild his gang.

As he thought about the task ahead he never heard the arrow as it's razor sharp broadhead entered the base of his skull and severed his spinal cord.

Big Gun dropped to the forest floor, his lower body no longer receiving commands from his brain. He fell face up driving the arrow farther through his body and with the last of his fading eyesight could have sworn he saw an Indian dressed in grey holding a bow and a tomahawk and smiling down at him.

Guess that is what the devil really looks like was his last thought on this earth.


Note 1 = http://www.gatlingguns.com/

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Epilog

Steve and Tim walked outside to inspect the damage. All the vehicles that had been part of the attack looked liked a kitchen sieve, those AK-47's had done a job on the body work along with anything on the otherside. A low moan from Steve's side of the car was met with a sharp report from the 9mm he carried. Steve looked up to see Tim's wide eyes staring at him.

"Tim, these scumbags came here with one purpose and that was to harm my family. When they crossed my property line they also crossed from civilized man to animal man and deserve no better treatment than I would give any seriously wounded wild animal." Steve explained.

"I know," answered Tim "Its just hard to see it and realize how much the world has changed in such a short time."

Steve decided to wait until first light to clean up the yard and bury the bodies. They walked back into the house to find Chris sitting up on the bed waiting for them.

"Everyone, this is Tim. He was a major factor in me being here in time to help" Steve said by way of introduction of the boy.

Everyone said hello though Steve noticed Chrissie had a big smile on her face (the kind females reserve just for times they want to get noticed) when she said it.

"Speaking of arriving just in time, thanks for taking care of those last two dudes behind the house, Dad" Chris said.

Steve got real serious and said "Son I arrived just in time to finish those in front. I never knew anyone was in back."

In the quietness of the moment Steve noticed the lonesome call of a wolf howling nearby. All of a sudden he ran for the back door and in a near perfect imitation of the calling wolf, started howling in answer.

His family thought he had slid off into some kind of wartime flashback and were looking at him very strangly as he stepped back into the house. Only Susan would say what was on all their minds.

"What was that all about?" she asked "Some kind of male dominance thing? I am the only big, bad wolf here thing?"

"Nah, just answering a phone call" Steve said cryptically.

Now they all KNEW he was tripping, and seemed to get that "Surrrrrrrre Dad" look as they looked at each other.

A few moments of silence later, they all heard the roar of a big diesel getting closer. Susan started to reach for the pistol still strapped to her side, but seeing Steve's smile she stopped, really confused now.

Steve opened the back door and stood there waiting, as a Ford 250 pulled up to the house. It looked very ungainly with some kind of treads, instead of wheels, on each corner of the truck (1).

A short man, looking like an indian out of a Florida history book, got down from the driver's seat, and another man opened the door of the passenger side. If the family thought the indian looked odd, the other man looked just strange. He stood about six foot three with a full face beard, looking like something from a mountain man retreat.

Steve let out another wolf call and ran over to the pair, slapping and punching at them like long lost brothers. The three men hugged each other for a moment, then Steve remembered that his family was in attendance, each standing with their mouth and eyes wide open at the spectacle their normally reserved Dad had put on.

Steve turned to the family and introduced the two men.

"Folks I want you to meet two of the best scouts the Marines ever had. Tom Littlefoot," Steve said pointing to the short Indian, who gave him a sharp look and said "Tonto to my friends, of which Steve here might not be for long if he calls me Littlefoot again," of course, Tom said it with a grin.

"and George Jamison better known as Bushman," Steve continued on as if he had not heard what Tonto had said.

"Glad to finally meet you kind folks," the big man answered in a deep baritone voice that somehow seemed to fit the man perfectly.

Susan had heard of the pair that her husband held an almost reverence for. He had not heard from them in years, but still talked of them as if they were brothers. Seeing them here now, she could see they felt the same about Steve.

She turned to them and said "If ya'll are through playing your macho games come on into the house and make yourself at home.

"About time someone here had some manners" spoke Bushman, "I sure could use a cup of coffee from someone beside this here Indian. They never have learned to brew correctly."

"Ugh. Indian was brewing drinks from herbs before whiteman finished painting on cave walls." Tonto said in his best Indian voice.

"Come on in fellows, and tell me how come you're here." Steve said, to break up the banter between the friends before it could really get started.

Everyone got comfortable in the large living room, ignoring the large amount of empty brass laying around. Susan and Chrissie gladly fulfilled their duties as hostesses, in the kitchen making fresh coffee and heating up coffeecake and sweet rolls.

After the how have you been's had been passed around, Steve asked about the men's families. Tonto seemed to take on a new seriousness that showed in the fierce glow his eyes took on.

"That's part of what brought us here" He said. "after I got out of the corps I went back home to the 'glades."

Steve knew Tonto's family had some property in the Everglades that had been handed down for generations.

The Indian continued "I met a little woman that thought I was everything she needed in life. I know she was everything I needed. After traveling all over the world for Uncle Sugar I was ready to settle down. We had a small singlewide on a piece of the family land and things were fine, until two months ago."

Susan and Chrissie came into the room with a large tray of sweets and drinks. Tonto paused until they had also taken a seat. Steve could tell he also paused to regain his normally stoic look, as he took control of his emotions.

Once the women were seated, Tonto continued his narration.

"You know about the problems in South Florida between the various groups?" He asked. "well, the Haitians and other groups from South America may have good people, but the ones I know aren't worth much. A group came North and started encroaching on our land. At first they left our group alone, but since my wife was Cuban, she was fair game they thought. About two months ago she went into town for our monthly food run. Somewhere between town and home she was run off the road, attacked and left for dead."

Tonto's voice once again betrayed his emotions as he stopped his story. Bushman spoke up, filling in the gaps to give his friend time to compose himself.

"I had just went through a messy divorce, getting the final papers two weeks earlier. Since I lost the house and half of everything else I decided to drop in on an old friend and see if I could start a new life. Tonto wanted to show me some of the wild life in his ancestral homestead, so we took his airboat into the swamps as his wife went into town. When we got back and she wasn't around the house we went looking for her, since Tonto knew she was always home in time to fix him dinner. We found her a few miles out of town."

The emotions were so thick and heavy in the room, everyone had a solemn look and felt the pain these two men had experenced.

Tonto took the floor once again and continued "She had hung on long enough for me to find her. She said she knew I would want to know what happened. It took everything that tough lady had, but she described the ones that had attacked her in detail." Once again Tonto paused to take a deep breath and slowly let it out.

Bushman picked up the story without missing a beat, getting everyone's attention away from his friend.

"She gave us the description of the four assailants, then smiled at her husband. She apologized for not being there to fix his supper then closed her eyes for the last time. We cleaned her up, then called the authorities. The police didn't have anyone they could send right then, so we picked her up and carried her to a local funeral home. We both went back home and opened our old warbags. What the Marines had trained us to do overseas, worked just as well here at home."

When the big man paused Chris blurted out "What happened, then?" Steve turned to warn the young teen about his outburst when Tonto spoke again.

"No, the boy needs to know. His world has changed forever, and my story needs to be told to be remembered." Looking at the teen, the sadness rolling from his face, the Indian continued.

I took out my favorite bow. You remember the one I carried in Iraq?" he asked Steve, "and the rest of my gear and went hunting. One by one the punks fell. The first one lived for two days before it was time for the next one. By the time the fourth fell we knew who the head man was. It took a week to find him, it took four hours for him to die." With that he stopped, his story over. Each person in the room was feeling the anguish and pain he had gone through.
Steve, who had an idea what Tonto was capable of, and did not want the images floating around in his head, broke the silence by asking " So what brings you up here?"

Bushman answered "after the funeral we decided we needed to get away from that area for awhile, so we thought we might look up a good friend that happened to live up north, so here we are."

"So, you just happened to arrive today?"

"Oh no," replied Bushman "We've been camping out about 300 yards into those trees back there for about a month. Saw a couple of those boys checking the house out a few weeks ago, but since we didn't know at the time they were hostile we just scared them a little."

"Yea, the leader kinda Pi$$ed his pants when Tonto over there pulled a knife on him" continued Bushman.

"Speaking of the leader, was he one of the boys out front? And I suppose that was you out back solving Chris's problems?" asked Steve.

"Your boy was doing ok by himself, but had a few too many problems for one person. I thought that since I needed a little target practice, I would lend a hand. As for the leader, he tried to leave the party before it was over. Tonto decided to give him a real personal invite to stay to the end. Besides, he said he needed a little bow practice himself." replied Bushman with a mysterious grin.

Susan stood up and announced that it was time to turn in, and that the two guests could sleep in the back bedroom and Tim could sleep on the couch in the living room.

"Indian not sleep in whiteman's house" Tonto said, eyes twinkling, in his best Hollywood Indian imitation.

Everybody laughed at his comment, then he motioned Steve and Tim outside. The four men stepped out the front door and Bushman told Steve that since they had just got home to leave the cleanup to Tonto and him.

Tonto said "I noticed a backhoe behind the barn and if it runs, we will use that to dig a grave for those scuzz balls. We will sleep in the barn which will be a lot better than the ground we been sleeping on. By the way, you got a good boy in there. He did real good in the attack, better than some trained soldiers."

Looking at Tim he said "you did alright too rookie, got a rough start, but you did ok." Then he turned and walked away.

Tim had a stunned look on his face at the high praise from such an accomplished warrior. Steve laughed at the look and suggested they get cleaned up and sack out.

Steve was looking forward to sleeping between sheets in a warm, comfortable and most of all safe place. Besides the fact that a very special lady was there waiting for him.


Note: (1) http://www.mattracks.com/


END

Finally finished it today after 5 off/on days of reading!!! VERY GOOD STUFF, learned ALOT and found myself wanting time to read more and more of it daily!!

Awsome read , I just spend the last 6hrs reading this.
The caching of gear has me thinking of places around my city/state also now to go back and read up on the highlited bits and check them out..

tucker219..

i know what you mean tucker, i fashioned my mini-storage cache after the one in this story.

Christian: Thanks for making the story available, it was a good read.
Liked the idea of a Frisbee for a camp dish/bowl. Have to throw a couple in my B.O.B.
.........................Alaskan.............

sorry alaskan, 'mountain home' is the one i wrote, this was written by a friend who gave me permission to repost it. i felt it offered valuable insight into different SHTF scenarios and how to prep for them.

I just finished reading your story , good tale. will be waiting for the next installment.........Alaskan

that may take a while as i've been stuck for three years now.

Thanks Christian, good story........ I just got today my book "Wastelands", will start to read it tomorrow..... will let you know how good it is.

thank you sir.