Chapter 9d
First I went and retrieved the lance and it was a bitch to get out. Definitely a one shot weapon. I ended up having to roll him over on his stomach and slide him down the length of the shaft to get it loose. It had a wicked piece of steel on the end that looked freshly forged. All the cool feathers fell off though in doing that or ended up lodged in his lungs or somewhere.
I had to wipe the shaft off with his shirt and it was going to require further cleaning later. Then again it might be a decent stain, kind of redwood looking and all. I was laughing to myself over that when Ty yelled out, "Got a live one here Gardener!"
"How live is that?"
Ty looked at me puzzled, I added, "Does he got another 30 minutes or more left?"
He looked down at the survivor who all I could see of was a leg. My guess was he got pinned when his horse went down.
"Oh yeah. At least."
"Make sure he doesn't have a weapon, then finish the horses and take of Grandmother. I'll be over in a few."
I worked real hard at keeping my voice level and the irritation out of it. "Fucking rookies" is what I thought. It had been a while since I had worked with people who were this clueless about the basics. I started checking bodies to make sure they were dead using the same method I had used since the beginning. The lance made it easier, I leaned on it and kicked them in the head. I left the pat down and weapons collection for later, I wanted to make sure I talked to the survivor. No one else was alive. I would have been pissed if they had been.
Ty and Kat were hovering over Grandmother, they couldn't figure out how they were going to dig a hole. Yeah. Rookies. I could hear them arguing over who was going to walk back to the truck to get the shovel as I walked over to say hello to my new friend.
I sat down on the haunch of the horse that had him pinned. Their horses weren't all that big which was fine because none of these guys had been very big either. They were all post PowerDown born except for two of them. The young ones coming up were kind of on the scrawny side compared to the males who were grown, or were close to it, when the economy tanked. This was one of the older ones. I was glad. They cracked easier then the young ones I had found.
"How ya doing there?" I asked him.
"Hows it look asshole. I got a dead horse on my leg."
"Bet that hurts."
He was doing a pretty good job of eating the pain but it hurt, I could see it in his eyes.
"Yeah. Want to get it off me."
"No. Not really."
His eyes narrowed. "So you're really Gardener."
"Yep."
"You'll be dead soon."
I laughed. "Right. Well you'll be dead sooner."
"I'm not afraid of dying." He sounded like he meant it too.
"That's nice." I told him. Then I reversed the lance and drove the head into his stomach and pulled it back out.
He yelped, just a small little yelp, then groaned and grabbed at his gut. Blood was already starting to darken his shirt.
"I'm not going to kill you right away. I'll just leave you out here for the buzzards and maybe the coyotes. You have wild dog packs around here? Yes, I believe you do."
He called me a mean name. I laughed.
"So...want to hear my deal?"
He didn't respond. Well, he snarled but technically I didn't consider that a proper response.
"Okay. You talk to me and I put one in your head if I'm satisfied. If not? I leave you."
Much to my delight a coyote pack started singing. His unease over hearing this was palatable.
"You're really an asshole Gardener" he told me through gritted teeth.
"Yeah. So I've been told."
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 9c - by nova
"Oh my God!" Was the first thing out of Kat's mouth quickly followed by, "Grandmother!" Both her and Ty went running to where Grandmother was laying in the sand. For a second I considered going to her side but I decided to instead to go find a rock to sit on while the drama ran down. It didn't last long and I didn't expect it to. She was pretty hardcore and Ty was an EMT, or what passed for one around here, and they had grown up in a tough world. I figured I had about five minutes of star gazing at most before they were done. I was wrong. It took her all of two minutes. Helped by the fact that Grandmother was dead I'm sure. I had found that Kat's generation were realists about death, blood, and other facts of life that were once considered "gross."
I heard, "Where the hell is Gardener?" from Kat and I decided to get up off my ass and mosey on over. Ty replied, "Damn. I think he killed everyone of them. This is fucking amazing."
They didn't hear me walk up behind them so I startled the hell out of them when I said, "No. Just doing what was needed." I wanted to say "I'm just a simple cowpoke" but this wasn't the right audience if one even existed. They both stared at me like I had just dropped in from another planet.
"We'll bury her here if that is okay with you."
"Sure. That's fine." Then Kat added, "I'm glad you killed them Gardener."
"Yep. Ty, I want you shoot the horses. I'm going to see if we got any live ones and see what I can find on them."
"Shouldn't I look for live ones?" was Ty's reply.
"No. You'll try and heal them. I just want them to talk to me."
I heard, "Where the hell is Gardener?" from Kat and I decided to get up off my ass and mosey on over. Ty replied, "Damn. I think he killed everyone of them. This is fucking amazing."
They didn't hear me walk up behind them so I startled the hell out of them when I said, "No. Just doing what was needed." I wanted to say "I'm just a simple cowpoke" but this wasn't the right audience if one even existed. They both stared at me like I had just dropped in from another planet.
"We'll bury her here if that is okay with you."
"Sure. That's fine." Then Kat added, "I'm glad you killed them Gardener."
"Yep. Ty, I want you shoot the horses. I'm going to see if we got any live ones and see what I can find on them."
"Shouldn't I look for live ones?" was Ty's reply.
"No. You'll try and heal them. I just want them to talk to me."
Monday, August 29, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 9b by nova
Chapter 9b
I didn't make it far when I heard them coming. I faded further back into the darkness and waited. I was glad to stop moving, my leg was throbbing and I was tired. Real tired. They were trying to be sneaky and doing a very good job of it. Being raised out here, and one being a full blooded Indian, I thought they would have managed to be a little stealthier.
I assessed my performance while I waited for them, doing the after action critique was what I had been taught to do a long time ago, and since it made sense I kept up the practice. Even when, like now, it was just me instead of a squad or more.
Instead though, for a second I saw her, we had just dumped our packs, she was smiling at me. It was somewhere in Virginia back in the early days when I knew, I mean I knew, that there was a chance that it was going to be all right. We could make it happen. I blinked internally, slammed the door on that piece of the past and refocused.
Surviving was about a lot of things and most of them were all inside your head. One of the biggies was the ability to be honest with yourself and others. Brutally honest. If you knew you couldn't do something but told yourself, deluded yourself really, that you could do something but couldn't, you got hurt, or more then likely someone else got hurt, and nothing happened to you which in my mind was even worse.
I stood there and watched Ty and Kat stumble into my kill zone. They stopped dead and just stared at the flames, the horses, the bodies, the aftermath. I did too but I was seeing something different. It was sloppy work on my part, stupidly executed, and I was lucky to be alive. What really galled me was the missed shots and slightly off placement when I did hit my target. Probably 99% of the population wouldn't even see it but I did. Someone like me, that 1%, would read it, and if they knew it was me would also know I was slipping. For the first time in life I knew that I was no longer the best in the world and I also knew, the world being what it was, that it was only a matter of time now. I couldn't remember who said it or even where I heard it but there were no "Second place winners" in my world. The strange thing was I didn't really give a shit.
I didn't make it far when I heard them coming. I faded further back into the darkness and waited. I was glad to stop moving, my leg was throbbing and I was tired. Real tired. They were trying to be sneaky and doing a very good job of it. Being raised out here, and one being a full blooded Indian, I thought they would have managed to be a little stealthier.
I assessed my performance while I waited for them, doing the after action critique was what I had been taught to do a long time ago, and since it made sense I kept up the practice. Even when, like now, it was just me instead of a squad or more.
Instead though, for a second I saw her, we had just dumped our packs, she was smiling at me. It was somewhere in Virginia back in the early days when I knew, I mean I knew, that there was a chance that it was going to be all right. We could make it happen. I blinked internally, slammed the door on that piece of the past and refocused.
Surviving was about a lot of things and most of them were all inside your head. One of the biggies was the ability to be honest with yourself and others. Brutally honest. If you knew you couldn't do something but told yourself, deluded yourself really, that you could do something but couldn't, you got hurt, or more then likely someone else got hurt, and nothing happened to you which in my mind was even worse.
I stood there and watched Ty and Kat stumble into my kill zone. They stopped dead and just stared at the flames, the horses, the bodies, the aftermath. I did too but I was seeing something different. It was sloppy work on my part, stupidly executed, and I was lucky to be alive. What really galled me was the missed shots and slightly off placement when I did hit my target. Probably 99% of the population wouldn't even see it but I did. Someone like me, that 1%, would read it, and if they knew it was me would also know I was slipping. For the first time in life I knew that I was no longer the best in the world and I also knew, the world being what it was, that it was only a matter of time now. I couldn't remember who said it or even where I heard it but there were no "Second place winners" in my world. The strange thing was I didn't really give a shit.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
The Unknown - Chapter 9a by nova
Chapter 9a
The next part, as usual breaks into fragments. Snapshots of images, smells, and sound. Random thoughts like advertisements from another planet flash in my brain. Lightening strikes of words, shaped like thoughts, and just as quickly gone.
My world,during this, becomes layers, and I respond with out thinking, fear, or pain. All I feel is joy and it is good. So very good.
A horse, its neck arched, snorting and eyes rolling, as it slowly drops to its forelegs. My rifle is empty. I reach back and drop it in its sheath and draw both my guns. I feel fluid, my leg is working, I am me again. It has been so long.
A round smacks me in the chest. Handgun from the feel. Hoser isn't bad but I'm better. A face screaming in rage at me. He is wearing war paint, how unoriginal, he dies.
I keep moving. I'm going downhill. I'm flying. One of the formerly mounted guys is standing behind a down horse. His? I keep coming. I don't pull the triggers. His nerve breaks. He fires but he misses. I launch into the air using a down horse as my launchpad. Something, gear? The horse? The angle isn't what I had ran in my head but I don't care. It doesn't matter and he knows it. I see it in his eyes just before I impact. He knows. I am death and I won't stop coming. He is down. I smell his stink, see his eyes widen, then I begin beating his face to a pulp with one Ruger while keeping the other ready. I don't have any more time for him. I jam the barrel in his eye and pull the trigger and roll off of him.
One of them is left and I want him. No one escapes. I hear "No mercy" in a voice from a world gone and I scream my rage at what was taken. I keep rolling. No reason why, I just do, it was the right thing to do. The sand, and the guy who I just provided an eyeopener twitched with the multiple rounds of a machine pistol running full tilt. Somebody had just spent a months pay at least.
The timing was unfortunate for me. Both Rugers were empty. I still had the Navy Colt but I noticed the lance I had seen early was less than a foot away and I grabbed it. The burst had died off far to soon, a jam, and I heard him say something that probably translated to "Motherfucker!" I stood up. He was about 20 paces away.
I grinned at him. He didn't grin back.
I hurl the lance at him. Much to my amazement, and from the look on his face, his,it punches solidly into his chest. I watched as he reached out, wrapped his hands around it, trying to pull it out was my guess, and drops to his knees. I shot him in the head with the Colt anyway. Fuck 'em. Always better to make sure they're dead then to assume it.
I look around. A chunk of falls and lies burning in the sand. Most of the hogan is gone. I hear at least two horses crying. I begin reloading while I move backward out of the firelight. Never assume its over and never stand in the spotlight. I'll move again as soon as I reload, wait a few in another spot, and then begin walking the perimeter slowly. Just to make sure. Then I'll have to kill the injured horses. I'm not looking forward to it.
The next part, as usual breaks into fragments. Snapshots of images, smells, and sound. Random thoughts like advertisements from another planet flash in my brain. Lightening strikes of words, shaped like thoughts, and just as quickly gone.
My world,during this, becomes layers, and I respond with out thinking, fear, or pain. All I feel is joy and it is good. So very good.
A horse, its neck arched, snorting and eyes rolling, as it slowly drops to its forelegs. My rifle is empty. I reach back and drop it in its sheath and draw both my guns. I feel fluid, my leg is working, I am me again. It has been so long.
A round smacks me in the chest. Handgun from the feel. Hoser isn't bad but I'm better. A face screaming in rage at me. He is wearing war paint, how unoriginal, he dies.
I keep moving. I'm going downhill. I'm flying. One of the formerly mounted guys is standing behind a down horse. His? I keep coming. I don't pull the triggers. His nerve breaks. He fires but he misses. I launch into the air using a down horse as my launchpad. Something, gear? The horse? The angle isn't what I had ran in my head but I don't care. It doesn't matter and he knows it. I see it in his eyes just before I impact. He knows. I am death and I won't stop coming. He is down. I smell his stink, see his eyes widen, then I begin beating his face to a pulp with one Ruger while keeping the other ready. I don't have any more time for him. I jam the barrel in his eye and pull the trigger and roll off of him.
One of them is left and I want him. No one escapes. I hear "No mercy" in a voice from a world gone and I scream my rage at what was taken. I keep rolling. No reason why, I just do, it was the right thing to do. The sand, and the guy who I just provided an eyeopener twitched with the multiple rounds of a machine pistol running full tilt. Somebody had just spent a months pay at least.
The timing was unfortunate for me. Both Rugers were empty. I still had the Navy Colt but I noticed the lance I had seen early was less than a foot away and I grabbed it. The burst had died off far to soon, a jam, and I heard him say something that probably translated to "Motherfucker!" I stood up. He was about 20 paces away.
I grinned at him. He didn't grin back.
I hurl the lance at him. Much to my amazement, and from the look on his face, his,it punches solidly into his chest. I watched as he reached out, wrapped his hands around it, trying to pull it out was my guess, and drops to his knees. I shot him in the head with the Colt anyway. Fuck 'em. Always better to make sure they're dead then to assume it.
I look around. A chunk of falls and lies burning in the sand. Most of the hogan is gone. I hear at least two horses crying. I begin reloading while I move backward out of the firelight. Never assume its over and never stand in the spotlight. I'll move again as soon as I reload, wait a few in another spot, and then begin walking the perimeter slowly. Just to make sure. Then I'll have to kill the injured horses. I'm not looking forward to it.
The Unknown - Chapter 9 by nova
Chapter 9
I used iron sights because that was what I had learned on and because I didn't like scopes. My feeling was if I wasn't close enough to hit you with out a scope then I had screwed up. Plus, and people seemed to think this was strange considering it was coming from me, but I thought drilling someone from 700 feet out was impressive but wrong on a level I could never get past.
I got up on one knee, ran my targets through my head one more time, and shot Pelt Boy in the sternum. I was aiming for the adams apple but he moved and I never really was as good with a rifle as I was my revolvers. I levered another round, and shot the horse that was waiting for the former Pelt Boy dead center in the side. It screamed, I said a silent "Sorry" to it, and swung to my right and nailed the guy who was leading up the rest of the horses.
My original plan was to spook the horses, kill the ground guys, and then deal with the mounted riders who would, hopefully, still trying to get their mounts under control. It was cold, efficient, and maximized mine and anyone with me odds of survival. It had been awhile, decades, since I had screamed her name, and charged a battle line, house, or band of warriors. I had replaced it with cunning and the cold steel desire to kill as many feds, or whoever, as I could, and live to do it again.
This time was different. In between shooting one of the guys who were staring at the blanket and registering the mounted ones were shooting back at me along with the Hoser, not accurately, but that would change, the wind of ice blew through me. It was good, it was more than good, it was like being touched by lightening, god, and the woman you loved at once. I stood up and screamed her name, that cold hearted bitch whose name hadn't passed my lips in years.
"Freya!"
Then I started walking down the hill shooting horses. I wanted them on foot. I wanted them to come to me.
I used iron sights because that was what I had learned on and because I didn't like scopes. My feeling was if I wasn't close enough to hit you with out a scope then I had screwed up. Plus, and people seemed to think this was strange considering it was coming from me, but I thought drilling someone from 700 feet out was impressive but wrong on a level I could never get past.
I got up on one knee, ran my targets through my head one more time, and shot Pelt Boy in the sternum. I was aiming for the adams apple but he moved and I never really was as good with a rifle as I was my revolvers. I levered another round, and shot the horse that was waiting for the former Pelt Boy dead center in the side. It screamed, I said a silent "Sorry" to it, and swung to my right and nailed the guy who was leading up the rest of the horses.
My original plan was to spook the horses, kill the ground guys, and then deal with the mounted riders who would, hopefully, still trying to get their mounts under control. It was cold, efficient, and maximized mine and anyone with me odds of survival. It had been awhile, decades, since I had screamed her name, and charged a battle line, house, or band of warriors. I had replaced it with cunning and the cold steel desire to kill as many feds, or whoever, as I could, and live to do it again.
This time was different. In between shooting one of the guys who were staring at the blanket and registering the mounted ones were shooting back at me along with the Hoser, not accurately, but that would change, the wind of ice blew through me. It was good, it was more than good, it was like being touched by lightening, god, and the woman you loved at once. I stood up and screamed her name, that cold hearted bitch whose name hadn't passed my lips in years.
"Freya!"
Then I started walking down the hill shooting horses. I wanted them on foot. I wanted them to come to me.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Interesting Video on How to Flip a Retreat
A reader sent me this. I don't know anything else about it but I do know this is how I would do it. When we were in Italy last summer one of the things I noticed was many of the hills had old fortified manor houses, not quite castles usually, but not villas either. Why? Because they survived the collapse of an empire that way.
Retreating to a farm is one thing but it has to be in the context of a community with a team of LE/Rangers (Texas type)/light cavalry to run constant patrols and act as a fast reaction team. The place to stop people like this is before they enter your Zone, community territory, or village proper.
The problem then becomes how do you pay them? They will have to be supported by the community through taxation. You can call it tithe, tribute, or a donation but in the end it is a tax. One you will be happy to pay at first.
Retreating to a farm is one thing but it has to be in the context of a community with a team of LE/Rangers (Texas type)/light cavalry to run constant patrols and act as a fast reaction team. The place to stop people like this is before they enter your Zone, community territory, or village proper.
The problem then becomes how do you pay them? They will have to be supported by the community through taxation. You can call it tithe, tribute, or a donation but in the end it is a tax. One you will be happy to pay at first.
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