The Gathering Storm Page 31

  “Need some ammo later, Abigail?”

  “If you have some to spare, yes…Torbin. We have only a dozen or so rounds left per weapon.”

  “The Corporal up top should have more than enough firepower if we need to bug out fast. But maybe I should ask how you young people ending up with a dangerous job like this?”

  “We all came down from Idaho. We were irradiated when the Hanford Nuclear Plant Complex blew and we fled south through the fallout area to Salt Lake City, as some of my family was Mormon. The Church decided it would not be a good idea if we found husbands or wives, too much chance of serious birth defects from damaged DNA. So, we serve the Prophet and God the best way we can; killing Demons, Evil Ones, Ferals, so that others may live.”

  Torbin was silent. Abigail had become mature beyond her years, but not by her choice. The Tschaaa had a lot to pay for.

  “You are betrothed, are you not, Torbin?”

  “Why, yes. Who told you?

  Abigail shrugged. “It is a gift from God. I can see into a person, feel what is inside. You have a love inside your rough exterior that is connected to another. I hope your children are all healthy.”

  Children? How in the hell did she know that he and Aleks just started trying to make a baby? “Thank you, Abigail. Now, it looks like we are about a couple hundred yards from where you said the cave was located. Time to stop and go on foot.

  “Leave your rifle here. Take only your shotgun. If we have to shoot our way in it’s going to be time to leave. I have this pump and my pistol to slow them up if we have to run from the Eaters. Do you have a pistol as well?”

  “Yes.” Abigail pulled out a little top break .32 revolver. Torbin frowned. “Kind of small, isn’t it?”

  “I carry it for two-legged Demons passing as men who try to abuse me. Nothing more.”

  “Well, it might mess up a man’s plumbing at point blank range, but won’t do us much good in a firefight. Let’s leave it behind for now.” He called over to Corporal Black. “Keep your hands on that Ma Deuce. Our job is to keep the other two Avengers here in one piece, and ready to cover our retreat. Clear?”

  The Private grinned. “Crystal, Captain.”

  Torbin signaled to Abigail and they began a quick walk down the animal trail that Abigail said led to the small cave in which her comrade was hidden. It took them just a few minutes to travel some two hundred yards to a small clearing. A fairly substantial brush-covered hill rose near the small clearing in the forest. Abigail pointed to a spot that looked like every other. Torbin was impressed when she deftly moved some strategically placed branches and revealed a small opening. She entered, and Torbin followed. He had a small LED flashlight that revealed the injured man. The man looked a bit older, maybe twenty years of age, and was very pale. His left arm and side were heavily bandaged, with blood seeping through.

  “Here is some help, Peter,” Abigail whispered.

  “You came back.” Peter slowly raised his eyes to glance at Torbin. “Heathen?”

  “No,” Abigail answered. “Just a non-believer from the Armed Forces of the Unoccupied States.”

  “Captain Torbin at your service. I am now going to pick you up onto my shoulders in a fireman’s carry. It may hurt, but we have to move. Understand?”

  Peter nodded yes. “Good, here goes.” Torbin easily positioned the wounded man on his shoulders. “Abigail, grab his rifle, and let’s go.”

  They were met by an Eater at the opening. Before Torbin could react, Abigail raised the lever action she had retrieved from Peter and fired a round right between the large eyes of the alien. The creature collapsing where it had stood. Quickly, Torbin passed the body and started striding up the trail.

  Fifty yards up the path, an Eater came rushing up from behind them. Abigail turned and tried to lever a fresh round and fire. The round she had just fired had apparently split, bulged, and jammed itself in the chamber. Abigail reefed on the lever action and ripped the case head off the expended round. “Shit!” The unexpected curse from the devoted Mormon caused Torbin to look back and catch a glimpse of their pursuer. In one smooth motion, he turned and fired from the hip with his pump shotgun. The heavy shot struck the alien in its eyes, at least one buckshot penetrating to its brain. Its body slumped to the trail.

  “Ditch the rifle, troop. Take my shotgun.” Abigail reacted to the orders automatically, easily bowing to his seniority. She grabbed the shotgun, ejected the spent shell and chambered another twelve gauge, the rifle forgotten on the trail. Torbin began jogging easily with the extra load. The man was a slender, probably no more than one hundred fifty pounds. Torbin was strong for his relative size and weight, and easily hustled along the trail toward the Humvee.

  “Eaters moving in the brush,” Abigail warned.

  Torbin attempted to increase his pace to a full run. He had to be careful that he did not trip on the rough ground. He did not want to end up in a firefight, even a one sided one, with an unknown number of Eaters.

  Moments later, they emerged from the brush near the Humvee. There were looks of relief on Ruth and Mathew’s faces as Torbin brought the injured Peter up to the vehicle, just as the fifty caliber spoke. He glanced back over his shoulder in time to see three Eaters dissected by the heavy machine gun rounds. “Eaters still in the bush, Captain. I also thought I saw a human figure take off. Couldn’t get a shot.”

  Abigail shook a fist in fury toward the underbrush. “Kraken scum! I know they are inserting the Demons into this area. I feel it in my bones.”

  Torbin nodded in assent as he laid Peter on a stretcher. “That fits what we know. It appears the Director and the Tschaaa Lord in Key West have decided to start harassing us.”

  “I know of only one true Lord, and that is Jesus Christ,” Abigail commented.

  They strapped Peter to the stretcher, then strapped the entire stretcher to the top of the Humvee, near Corporal Black’s position. “If you have to fire, Corporal, just watch where you are aiming that fifty cal. We don’t want to further injure our patient.

  “Aye aye, Captain.” Black responded with a grin. Torbin chuckled. That man sure enjoyed his work.

  “All aboard. Let’s head out.” They were back in town within a minute.

  “Thank you, Captain. I am forever in your debt. I couldn’t stand to lose any more of my fellow warriors.”

  “As they say on the southwest border, Abigail, ‘de nada’. I’m just doing what a decent human being should.”

  Abigail gazed at him with appreciation. Torbin had acted in a more humane and Christian way than many of her fellow Mormons had. She would always remember this day.

  Torbin reached into his right fatigue shirt pocket, pulling out a hand calligraphed business card while he kept his eyes on the road. Aleks had made him a dozen or so of the handmade cards, each beautifully drawn and lettered. His future wife had many astounding skills, including the ability to produce detailed drawings and stylized printing. Torbin was lucky if he could draw recognizable stick figures, and he flunked handwriting in grade school.

  “Here, Abigail. On this card my betrothed made me are a couple of telephone numbers and a radio frequency you can use to contact me at Malmstrom Base. We have a cell phone system that is up and running through most of our States using microwave cell towers and connections with a couple of satellites the Tschaaa left up. Funny thing is, they don’t try to block us. It’s like we are gnats buzzing around that they ignore.”

  Abigail took the card. “Thank you. I will keep this safe. I can sense the love that went into its making. And I will tell my superiors of the help you provided.”

  “Please do. We would like to establish regular contact with your people. So far, it has been very much hit and miss.”

  Abigail sighed. “They closed the borders of Deseret, your Utah, in the first year. That enabled them to focus on organizing a rebuilding effort, even while we suffered the long winter. But our religion always had us prepare, with extra food, supplies in every Latter Day Saint’s
home. We lost almost no one to hunger, and few to sickness. Since then, they have been very hesitant to rejoin society, especially after some heathens tried to take by force what was not theirs, including women. That is when we Avenging Angels were created. No one is allowed to hurt one of our people and get away with it, no matter where they flee.”

  “How about Squids? Do you go after them?”

  Abigail frowned. “I was told they tried to harvest our State in a couple of locations early on. Then they stopped. Our Living Prophet said it was our strong faith that made the Tschaaa leave us alone. I have no answer other than this.”

  Torbin did not tell her that his people had it on good authority that the Mormons had rounded up all the people of color they could find and sent them out along Interstate Highway 70 into Colorado. Some had made it to the bases and population centers being set up as the Unoccupied States by the end of the first year. Many died due to the long winter, others had been harvested by roving Falcons. No one would know for sure the numbers involved. What was known was the Tschaaa left Utah alone after a couple of months.

  They arrived back at the town, just as the two choppers called in and said they were a half hour out. Torbin checked with the Gunny, who reported they had set up a landing zone in a field on the outskirts of the town. The wounded and the surviving town residents were waiting, under the protection of a squad of troops. The one seriously wounded troop, plus one with a foot injury, were to be loaded with the badly wounded pastor and flown back ASAP, aboard a Blackhawk chopper set up as a Medevac Bird. A ubiquitous Huey would transport Heather and the children at a slower pace. Torbin and his men would transport their dead, along with the two prisoners.

  “As usual, Gunny, you needed me about as much as a boar hog needs tits.”

  The Gunny smiled nervously. “Sir, you get the ‘big bucks’ to make all the decisions and get your ass chewed by the General. I just do what I’m told.”

  Torbin laughed. “That may be true to an extent, but NCOs like you still really run the military.”

  “By the way, Captain, there is a set of sealed orders onboard one of the choppers. They are from the General.”

  “Perfect. Looks he has something else he wants me to do. Carry on, Gunny.”

  “Aye aye, Sir.”

  Torbin walked back to his original Humvee. Out of his ditty bag, he grabbed a small twenty round box of .223 and a five shot box of double ought buck. He also grabbed three MREs. From the Humvee with the MG 240 attached in its gun position, he took two twenty round belts of 7.62 ammunition and slung them over his shoulder. He handed the guns over to Abigail. “Here, ma’am. This should help out. I wish I could talk you into coming with us instead.”

  Abigail smiled and shook her head. “I am sorry, but I have my orders. We will ask you to take the two Kraken scum with you as we have already…obtained information from them. We will stay here for a couple more days and kill as many Demons as we can find. Then, we will travel back the way we came, home.”

  Torbin knew all about orders, so he did not argue. He noticed the Kraken had signs of “questioning” displayed on their bodies, and they were very quiet.

  He called to Corporal Tatupu. “Corporal, take a couple of men and check out that General Store. See if they have some canned goods or local produce for the Avengers here. Some water also.”

  “Yes Sir.” The huge Corporal glommed onto two troops and headed out, weapons at a ready in case an Eater was hiding out.

  Torbin turned to Mathew. “I see a cap and ball pistol in your shoulder holster. Need some black powder?”

  Mathew perked up. “Yes sir. I have spare caps and balls, but no powder.”

  Torbin reached into one of his pockets and produced a cylindrical object the same size as a toilet paper roll, because that was its basis. “Here. As one of my hobbies, I’ve made a couple of firecrackers as homemade flashbangs. Here’s one. The center is black powder. Keep it away from flame, of course.”

  “Thank you. I can surely use this.”

  Torbin made small talk until he heard the sound of choppers. “Well, Abigail, I need to meet those whirlybirds. The Corporal will give you some food supplies when he gets back. I suggest you use that Church and its steeple to keep a eye out for the Eaters. Give me a call when you get a chance, please.”

  Abigail smiled again and stuck out her hand. Torbin took it, feeling her firm handshake. A connection only two warriors who have experienced combat, faced death together, passed between them. “Thank you, Captain. I will keep you in my prayers.”

  “I’d like that.” He released her hand and stepped back.

  Abigail came to attention and snapped a salute that would have made an Honor Guard member proud. Torbin saluted back.

  “Vaya con Dios, Angel.”

  “Thank you, Captain. May God go with you as well.” She turned and strided toward the approaching Corporal with a wheelbarrow full of food and drink supplies.

  Torbin returned to his Humvee, his driver, Private Martinez, starting it before Torbin said anything.

  “Heading toward the choppers, Sir.”

  “That’s what I like about you, Private. You can read my mind.”

  A few minutes later, the wounded and civilians were being loaded aboard. Torbin used his Ka-Bar to open the heavily sealed envelope. A quick glance over the terse message elicited a small curse from him. S-Day had to be moved up. The success of the recent space launches and all of the other material improvements the Director had overseen was resulting in more and more humans flocking to the Tschaaa controlled areas, like so many sheep. Time was running out. At a certain point, much like Occupied France and some Communist countries, the populace was more apt to accept the status quo as an extreme inertia set in. In those circumstances, the populace becomes almost as much of a problem as the occupiers.

  “Gunny!” Torbin yelled. “Get everybody mounted up. We are going home.”

  As they watched Torbin and his unit depart, Ruth turned toward Abigail. “They are fine men, as fine as any man in Deseret. It is a shame they are non-believers.”

  Abigail sighed. “Yes, it is a shame. They would also put to shame some of our males who claim to be men of faith, warriors of virtue.”

  “Abigail, have you ever thought of leaving Deseret, and going to the U.S.A. so you could marry?”

  Abigail paused. “Yes, truthfully. I’ve often thought of being able to marry. But right now, God, Jesus Christ and the Prophets have a different path for me. I know God will let me know when I have fulfilled my Mission as an Avenging Angel. Then, I will decide, with God and Jesus’ council, what path I will take.”

  She turned to the others. “Come, let us take our food supplies to the Church. I agree with the Captain that the steeple is a perfect lookout post.”

  “And a perfect sniper perch.” Mathew said with a smile.

  Abigail smiled as well. “Yes, you will have ample opportunity to demonstrate your shooting skills, I am certain of it.” The three young humans, mature beyond their years, began to move their supplies into the Church.

  CHAPTER 24

  ATLANTA, GEORGIA, CATTLE COUNTRY

  Once humans fall into a pit of depravity and degradation, even without alien help, it is often near impossible for them to crawl out unless helped by outside people and forces. What happened in Atlanta, Georgia, Cattle Country, is a horrible example of the concept.

  - Excerpts from the Literary Works of Princess Akiko, Free Japan Royal Family.

  It was Fight Night again. Mayor Luther was happy, very happy, extremely happy because, due to the reported successes of the renewed space program, they were providing him with a whole boatload of extra food and drink as a way of saying, “Thanks for staying out of the way. Don’t screw it up.” With the addition of Joe’s help and contacts, he had turned tonight into another extravaganza.

  The first fight had just ended, and a memorable one it was. Blue–he never did find out her real full name–had fought a young Filipina called “Orange” o
f the same size and weight. She had asked to fight again to gain more favors like the ones she had earned the first go around. Alas, her wish was not fulfilled. In a climax to the fight that would not soon be forgotten, Orange had wrapped her strong brown legs around Blue’s waist from behind, squeezing with all her might. Then, she had wrapped her arms around her rival’s body, using her sharp fingernails and strong fingers to claw and maul Blue’s breasts. The piece de résistance was when Orange sank her teeth into her opponent’s neck muscles, drawing blood.

  Blue, shocked and beaten, had screamed for mercy, admitted defeat.

  The Mayor had taken a chance of inciting interracial rioting by having one minority battle another. But he did not care now. The results had been fantastic, the crowds yelling for more.

  “Hey, Joe, are they coming up?” the Mayor asked his right hand man.

  “Yes, Boss. Just got the radio call; they are en route.”

  Mayor Martin Luther Johnson looked at Red. “Are you ready for this, Honey?”

  She gave him a big smile. “Yes, Dearest, I am. I have waited for this for a while. Now, I will enjoy inflicting my payback.”

  The Mayor gave a big belly laugh. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

  Just then, the Mayor heard a shout cut short at the outer door to his office suite. Next there was a gunshot, followed immediately by the door being smashed in. Joe leapt to his defense, his signature Bowie in his hand. The Mayor started to reach for the Luger he kept loaded in his desk side drawer.

  “Don’t even think about it,” a loud voice commanded. It was Malcolm, whatever his last name was.

  He had a silenced .45 aimed at the Mayor, two other ski masked men at his side, with sawed offs in their hands.

  “Sorry about the noise, Mayor. One of your guys got off a shot before I blew his brains out. Now, nice and slow, hands on the table. Joe, don’t be stupid. Buckshot in the gut will do you no good. Now, please, put your knife away and raise your hands.”