Alea Jacta Est: A Novel of the Fall of America (Future History of America Book 1) (43 page)

Lentz
seemed to realize for the first time that Erik, Ted and all the men behind them
were armed.  “We certainly don’t need all those…
guns
…” he said the word
as if merely mentioning the word would bring sickness.  “We’ll just give them
some supplies and they’ll be on their way.  Violence is
not
necessary.”

“Were there
any women or children?” asked Erik.

“What?”

“Women and
children?  You don’t think a group of people from a neighborhood would leave
their women and children behind when they go looking for food and water would
you?  Especially if their houses were all burned down?”

Lentz
looked as if he hadn’t seriously given it thought.  “I’m sure they’re just in
the back where we can’t see them.”  His voice wasn’t so sure though. 
“Perhaps…perhaps you and your…ah,
friends
could check them out though,
first…as a
precaution
?”

Erik
noticed the sudden pleading looking Lentz’s eyes.  The man was looking for an
out, so the two of them could work together.  He was obviously not a fighter. 
He as an organizer.  An arrogant one at that.  Erik knew his plan at organizing
obviously hadn’t worked the way he had wanted it to, but he also knew the only
fighting he’d done so far had been successful.  He nodded agreement and
restrained Ted from saying something to upset the truce.

“I’ll round
up the guards and we’ll figure it out.  You take…”  Erik paused.  Not wanting
to ruin the chances for everyone, he realized he’d have to work together with
the bureaucrat.  “I would
suggest
that you lead the rest of the
residents—“

“I’ll get
everyone in a safe place, one of the abandoned buildings.  We’ll see what
happens from there.”

“Agreed. 
Alright, let’s go boys,” Erik said over his shoulder and took the guards with
him around the building to scope out the situation.  They saw what looked like
a mob, not a neighborhood committee, on the other side of the iron gate.  Men
were shaking the gate, making increasingly violent threats and alternately
pleading.  It was confusing.  In the back and middle of the group a few crude
torches were held aloft.  In the glow from the light, Erik could spot a few
rifle or shotgun barrels, some baseball bats and even a few 2x4s.

“These
assholes mean business…” muttered Ted, crouching behind a bush.

“Al
l
right, Ted,
get your best shots, let’s get snipers up in these two buildings,” Erik said,
pointing with his right hand to the three story buildings to the left and right
of the gate. 

“Roger
that, I’ll get a crossfire going.  Buell, Dickson, Albertson and Murphy, get up
to the top floor in that building, open the windows.  When you see me shoot,
lay into them.  I know you haven’t shot at a person before—but get over it and
fast
. 
Those animals at the gate are going to get in here and rape and kill your
family if you don’t act.”  Ted said harshly.  No time for a pep talk or proper
training, this was sink or swim time.”

“But…there’s
so many…look at them…”

“George!”
Ted shook the man in front of him.  “Snap out of it!  Remember your kids!”  Ted
took another three men and went into the other building.   That left Erik with
seven others.

“Well,
we’re the infantry, guys.  Only three of you have weapons.  Here,” he said,
handing each of the four unarmed volunteers a different sword from his
collection.  One he gave an English longsword, two others a pair of ninja
swords, the last a replica Viking sword.  Erik kept his
katana
, plus the
9mm that Ted gave to him.

He looked
into the eyes of his troops and had to raise his voice over the growing din
from the gang outside of the gate.  Everyone was nervous and sweating in the
humid darkness.  “Take a deep breath.  All of you. 
Relax
.  You’re going
into battle.  You might get hurt or…,” he let that sink in.  “Deal with it on
your own, but deal with it
later
.  Your families, your wives and
children your own lives are at stake here.  Not to mention the lives of
everyone  who lives here.”  He turned and pointed towards the gate. 

“On the
other side of that thin gate are people who are no more than animals.  They’re
going to kill and do what they want to us if they get in.  All that stands
between the deaths of your families and freedom is us.  It sucks, but nobody
ever said life was fair.  We are the thin line, people. 
They
cannot
be allowed to cross it.
”

Another
Molotov cocktail sailed past the corner of the building and landed in the
grass, exploding.  “Refugees my ass,” he said simply.  Something inside him
took over, whether it was all his studying war and generals of the past or some
primordial instinct to stay alive, he would never be sure, but in that split
second, he changed.

“When they
get in, you guys with the guns, you start shooting at anything that moves. 
Make your shots count.  Take aim and squeeze the trigger just like in
practice.  Right?” he asked.  The ones with guns nodded shakily.

“You men
with swords, you’re with me.  We’ll be behind these bushes, here, here, and
there,” he said, pointing in the glow from the burning grass.  “When I yell,
step out and start swinging, don’t stop moving and swinging your swords till I
say so.   Remember what I taught you.  Swing, turn and
step away
.  Swing
the opposite direction, turn and
step away
.  Never stop moving—that’s
your advantage.  These swords will do the work for you.  Trust me, these
fuckers have no idea what they’re about to walk into.  Got it?”   Two of the
men nodded grimly.

“Jesus
there’s a lot of ‘em…” someone muttered in the darkness.

“That’s
what some poor scared farmer said on Bunker Hill too,” quipped Erik, getting a
few grins.  “Our forefathers made the British pay for taking that hill…we’ll
make these bastards sorry they ever laid eyes on
our
home.”

Erik got his
handful of troops into position.  As he peered through the leaves on a small
bush next to the leasing office, Erik radioed Ted in the building to his left. 
“Ted, you in position?”

“
Copy
that…windows up, we’re spread out and sighted in.  We’re ready
.”

Erik took a
deep breath, offered a prayer to God to see this roughly trained militia
through the conflict and asked Him to protect Brin. 
Make my arm strong and
my steel sharp.
  Feeling a sense of calm wash over him, Erik figured his
prayer had been answered.  He gripped the radio in his sweaty palm and gave the
order to attack.

The first
shot was Ted, followed quickly by six more from the second building’s snipers. 
At the gate, three men dropped to the ground screaming.  Those around them were
too stunned to know what happened at first.  By the time the second volley
entered the flesh of the attackers, they knew.  They had been ambushed. 

After the
one nervous guy left saying he’d discuss what to do with his new leader, the
gang expected more talking from the people living in the apartment complex. 
They expected easy pickings once the gate was down.  Now people were shooting
at them from the third stories of two different buildings.

It didn’t
take long for the gang-bangers with guns to start a mostly ineffectual return
fire.  Those by the gate were dropping fast as the snipers quickly slipped into
firing, reloading, aiming, firing and reloading again.  One of the snipers took
a lucky shot to the face from a gang-banger and fell silent, his shotgun
clattering to the ground outside the building.    Ted and his men kept up a
steady, if slow, rate of fire on the attackers.  After all, shotguns were not
meant to be sniper rifles.  Erik watched.  The gate was bent slightly near the
top from the sheer weight of the attackers.  It was still holding.

THE GANG’S LEADER
didn’t like what he was seeing.  The apartment defenders were shooting his
front people.  He’d lost eight or nine by now.  Pulling out his own pistol and
pointing at the men trying to run, he convinced them to surge forward. 

“If we all
hit the fuckin’ thing at once, it’s gonna break!  Look, it’s already bent!” he
said, pointing through the torchlight at the damaged gate.  His men got the
idea.  “Those fuckers got something worth protecting in there!  Probably a
bunch of cheerleaders on a school trip got stuck here!”

Lust and
alcohol will make a weak-willed man do many a foolish thing.  It was enough for
the gang-bangers to surge forward.  Through the sheer crushing weight of 26 men
smashing into it at once, the gate partially gave way.

ERIK’S EYES BULGED in
surprise.  He couldn’t believe they were ramming the gate with their own
bodies. 
What the fuck is wrong with these people?  Can’t they see they’re
dying?
he asked himself as more shotgun blasts belched out from the windows
above him.  He expected to see bodies drop like flies, now that they were all
pressed into the gate like that only about thirty feet away, but no one was
dying.

“Ted,
what’s going on?” he asked.

Another few
shots before Ted answered over the radio.  “
Don’t know, we’re aiming,
they’re just not dying!”
  A pause while a few more shots were fired.  The
men at the gate were getting an organized shake going, making the gate wobble
dangerously close to the breaking point.  They began cheering and hollering
like an army of ghouls fresh out of Hell. 

More
Molotov cocktails sailed through the air to smash against buildings, cars and
plants.  The lights from the fires were casting an unearthly glow on the
siege.  The random gunshots from the mob were starting to track towards the
defenders’ positions, gouging out bits of stone and masonry from the side of
the  building.

“
We’re
out of solid shot…we just got riot scatter shot now
…” said Ted’s voice over
the small radio speaker.

Erik
cursed.  “Just keep on ‘em.  When they break through, get down behind ‘em and
flank them...”

“
Roger
that
.”

Erik
reached down and pulled the flare gun out of his belt.  It was the signal gun
he’d squirreled away in his survival supplies.  Never knowing when he’d use it,
it was on sale and cheap and besides, when he got it, he’d thought it was just
plain cool.  Now it was going to save his life.  He hoped.  If he timed it
right.  If it worked.  He hoped the flares didn’t have a shelf life less than
two years.

The gate
wobbled and creaked, one of the hinges tore free of the concrete retaining
wall.  Finally another gang-bangers body dropped to the ground.  The scatter
shot just wasn’t as effective at killing someone as the solid shot.  It was
designed to wound and scare, to break up a crowd.  The opposite effect was
happening.  In their drunken and drugged state, the stinging pellets only
enraged the would-be pillagers and fueled their thirst for blood. 

Through the
dim light from dozens of small fires, Erik could see one of the remaining gate
supports give way.  The gate almost broke down completely.  One of the
attackers slithered up the leaning wrought iron and dropped down on apartment
soil.  Others were climbing up now.  Erik decided it was time to call in the
cavalry.  But first, he aimed his pistol and shot the son of a bitch who was
first to land on the inside of the gate.

HOSS WAS SITTING
astride his bike, checking the load in his sawed off shotgun when he saw the
signal flare streak into the sky down the street and arch up and over.  He
dropped the remaining shells in his hand back into the worn leather saddlebags
on his bike. 

The bright
fluorescence of the light cast shadows on the ground around the complex. 
Gunshots rang out, people were screaming.  Folks from the surrounding
neighborhoods were starting to peer out around trees near intersections further
up the road.  People were trying to figure out what was happening. 

“Alright
boys, that’s our cue.  Let’s get some payback!”  roared Hoss as he started the
powerful Harley.  “Saddle up!”  The rest of the bikers kicked their machines to
life and thundered down the road towards Colonial Gardens in a wedge
formation.  
This is for you, Sal!  If it don’t work, I’ll see you soon,
baby…

WITH A FINAL groan,
just as the flare was crossing overhead, the gate collapsed under the weight
and pressure of the attackers and slammed to the ground amid the cheers of the
gang-bangers.  They surged forward and into the parking lot, heading for the
closest building, the leasing office.  They wanted to get at the snipers—they
wanted to kill everyone standing in their way.  They wanted a bloodbath.  It
would be a slaughter.

“Now!” Erik
said, ordering the ones with him to start shooting.  The three men with guns
opened up at point blank range, dropping attackers quickly.  For every one that
fell, however, two more came at them.

Right on
cue, Erik heard the roar of motorcycles cut through the sporadic gunfire and
shouting.  In seconds, Hoss and his gang tore through those attackers still
waiting to get inside the complex. 

The
motorcycles slashed through the attackers like charging knights, headlights
looking for all the world like white lances.  Hoss’s bikers unloaded shotguns
and pistols as they cut a swath through the men still in the street.