The Camouflaged Cross: Tales Of Christian Preppers In The End Times (Just Run Book 1) (15 page)

“And Kathy here reminds you of that movie?”

“Yep. You should have seen her.” Wallace looked at Kathy. “Very impressive.” Wallace ducked back into the helicopter to look for other things to bring out.

“Sounds like a Clint Eastwood movie.”

“You know, I think it was a Clint Eastwood movie,” Wallace could be heard from inside the helicopter. “
Unforgiven
. Yeah, that was the name.”

“So you are comparing Kathy here to Clint Eastwood.” Bill looked at Kathy. “Veins full of ice water. That’s quite a compliment, Kathy.”

“Oh, give me a break.” She wiped away a few tears.

Bill asked Wallace, “So what is it you were saying about AK’s in the chopper there?”

Wallace answered from inside the helicopter. “Well, I’m an AR man myself, but a lot of people around the world use AK-47 machine guns. It’s been called the weapon of choice for terrorists. Not too accurate but very durable. They don’t even need much cleaning. And they last forever. There are some AK-47’s out there, still killing people, for over 50 years.”

“What is it about the AR that you like better?” Bill asked.

Wallace looked back out of the helicopter. “Well, there are a lot of accessories for the AR that are available everywhere, at least here in the US. Like for example,” Wallace stopped, and looked at Kathy. “Kathy, are you OK?”

“I’m OK, just a little numb,” Kathy answered. “I don’t have shootouts every day. It was only minutes ago that I was being shot at. I’m really shocked. It’s going to take me a while to de-stress. Sorry.”

Wallace agreed. “Sure, I can understand. It’s traumatic. Take your time.”

Wallace looked back at Bill. “Anyway, I bought a bunch of accessories for my AR there,” and nodded towards his rifle on the ground nearby. “But when it came right down to it, I just don’t like the look of the AK. Turn on any news channel and watch the latest Muslim atrocity, all the shootings they do all the time, firing squads and whatever, and what type of machine gun do you see? The AK-47. I just associate that gun with evil guys, killing innocent people. I know, it’s a prejudice on my part. I know it doesn’t make much sense. I just didn’t want to have one. I want to have the type of gun that protects good guys, not kills them. That’s all.”

“Well, why don’t you bring them out anyway?” Bill said. “We can just bring them to the camp.”

“Sure.” Wallace ducked back into the helicopter and could be heard moving things around inside. “Hey, they have a ton of wallets in here. And gold watches. I guess whoever they kill, they take their wallet and jewelry. Kind of reminds me of that scumbag I killed in town.” Wallace looked around more. “Oh, and here’s a purse. I doubt that belongs to this guy.” Wallace paused and smiled to himself. “Unless, he’s, you know, one of those …”

Another belt could be heard getting pulled off of pants. “Tell you what,” Wallace said. “Why don’t I just get these guys out of the chopper, onto the ground out there, and we can search their pockets out there. It’s kind of cramped in here.”

“Yeah, OK,” Kathy said.

Wallace strained as he lifted one of the bodies. “Stand back, guys,” he called out, and Wallace threw a dead body out of the helicopter and onto the ground. It was a middle-eastern man with blood streaming down from a bullet hole on the side of his head. His right shoulder was also covered with blood.

“And here’s the guy I shot,” Wallace said, as he threw a second dead middle-eastern man onto the ground outside. The man had several shots in his back.

“One more coming out,” Wallace said as he threw a smaller man out of the helicopter. This man’s torso was covered in blood.

“And here is the last one.” Wallace threw a fourth dead body out. “I mean, besides the pilot. This is strange. The pilot here looks kind of Anglo. I wonder what he was doing with these guys.”

Bill quickly looked at the dead men on the ground and then had a disgusted expression on his face, and looked away. “So that’s what the Mark looks like.”

The sounds of rattling metal could be heard inside the helicopter. Wallace looked out, at Bill. “Hey Bill, let me hand you these rifles.” He handed Bill two rifles from the helicopter to Bill, who then put them on the ground nearby the bodies. “Those are AK-47’s,” Wallace pointed to them. “Not too accurate but they just keep shooting. You don’t need to clean them as much as my AR-15.”

Wallace went back into the helicopter. “And what is this? It looks like an M4. Yeah, I think it is. Three of them.”

“What is that?” Bill asked.

“Well, it’s a military-issued gun. Civilians are not allowed to have these. I wonder where they got this? The magazine here,” Wallace pulled the magazine from the underside of the gun. “30-round capacity. This is military only. Where did they get all this?”

“I heard that the guys who killed Kirk had a Humvee,” Kathy said.

“I’m starting to wonder if,” Wallace speculated, “I’m starting to wonder if the military bases have just opened up their supply warehouses or if they were, you know, taken over or something. This is not making much sense.”

Wallace handed the three M4 rifles to Bill. Bill then put them on the ground near the others. “And another thing that doesn’t make sense here,” Wallace said, looking at the bodies. “Four scumbags and one guy, the pilot, who was probably taken at gun-point, and five rifles.” Wallace looked at Bill and Kathy. “We have an extra rifle.”

“So?” Bill, confused, looked up at Wallace.

“Guys don’t usually go into combat with more than one rifle apiece. That means that …” Wallace jumped on top of the side of the helicopter and looked north into the retreat property. The helicopter wobbled slightly. Wallace scratched his head.

“What are you looking for?” Bill asked.

“Oh, never mind.” Wallace climbed back into the helicopter and gathered some more items. “Head’s up,” Wallace announced, and threw out several knives, each in its own sheath, gun magazines, some men’s wallets, some gold watches and a single, brown purse, which landed on the ground.

“Still more magazines,” Wallace said as he threw five more magazines out, each one landing near the rifles. “Magazines that can hold this many rounds are military only.”

Wallace climbed out of the helicopter. He pointed at the dead bodies and looked at Bill and Kathy. “You can see their pockets are stuffed. More magazines and stuff. Let’s empty them.”

Bill got up and walked towards the brush. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” Bill said, then threw up into the bushes nearby. Bill coughed and spat a little, then he returned and sat down next to Kathy.

Wallace pulled off the cargo pants from one of the bodies. He pulled out two wallets from one of the pockets.

“Bill, check out the knives here,” Wallace pointed at the knives on the ground. “I’ll bet they’re all covered in blood.”

Bill walked over to the knives. He picked one up, opened a strap and pulled the knife from it sheath. The knife was red with blood. Shocked, Bill dropped the knife, and rushed over to the side of the road. “This is too much,” he said. He looked nauseous.

“Kathy,” Wallace said as he looked into a wallet taken from the pants of one of the bodies. “What was Kirk’s full name?”

“Kirk Bryant.”

“Here’s his wallet.” Wallace tossed the wallet to Kathy.

“Thanks,” Kathy caught the wallet and looked inside it. “So I guess we did it. We killed Kirk’s killer.”

“Yep,” Wallace looked back at the bodies around him. “And a few of his thug friends here.”

“They were all in it together.”

“Do you feel any better now?’

“Yeah, a little.”

Wallace poured the contents of the purse onto the ground. It was empty but a single diamond necklace hit the ground. Wallace picked up the necklace and studied it. “I think I know the person this necklace belongs to, well, probably before she got killed. I think this necklace belonged to the wife of a client of mine.”

Kathy looked at the necklace. “It looks pretty unusual.”

Wallace picked it up and put it into his pocket. “I think I built a house for this woman and her husband just last year. They were a nice couple.”

Wallace took the dark shirt off of one of the men and placed it on the ground and put the rifles, magazine, knives, wallets and cigarettes onto the shirt so that it could be carried all together. “Let’s bring all this stuff back to Jesse.”

****

“Hey, what’s going on out here?” asked a man from up the road, walking towards the helicopter. Wallace, Bill and Kathy looked up the road to the west and saw three men walking towards them. The men were all fair-skinned and wore dark pants and white, button-down short-sleeved shirts. Two of the men looked to be in their 30’s, and one of them held a shotgun over slung his shoulder, pointing up. The younger men stood on either side of an older, distinguished-looking man, who looked to be in his 60’s. They had come from the Mormon camp up the road.

“Oh hi, Elder Jacob, I remember you,” Wallace greeted the man in the middle. Wallace looked back at the bodies on the ground. “These guys came to kill us, shooting at us from this helicopter, so we shot it down. Now we’re getting their stuff. They won’t need it.”

“We think they killed also Kirk, you know, Kirk and Jackie, who lived down the road,” Bill said.

“Are those guys dead?” the unarmed younger man asked, looking at the dead bodies Wallace had thrown out of the helicopter. He looked disgusted and put his hand to his mouth.

“Yep,” Wallace answered. “You guys are lucky they didn’t come to your camp.”

“We heard about Kirk,” the other young man said. “That was horrible.”

Bill answered, “Yeah, they chopped his head off. Right out in front of the roadblock out here.”

Kathy turned to Bill. “No need to provide that much detail, Bill.”

The three men shuddered. “No, we heard all about it. That was horrible,” one of the younger men said. “Something about taking the Mark on your forehead.”

“We’re all supposed to take the Mark,” Kathy answered. “It’s a new law.”

Elder Jacob looked at the man to his left. “Looks like those guys all have the Mark on their foreheads. Look at that one.” He pointed.

“Yeah, I see it.”

The other younger man who held the shotgun put his hand in front of his mouth. “Not used to being around dead bodies.” He looked at one of the dead men on the ground. “Yeah, I can see the Mark on that guy’s forehead. A little, gray bar code or something.”

The other younger man began, “Kirk has a couple of friends in our group.” He paused. “Well, he ‘had’ friends in our group.”

“We buried his body a few hours ago,” Kathy said. “Just last night. Next thing you know, this helicopter shows up at our camp and starts shooting at us.”

The three men stood a few feet away from the front of the helicopter. “Hey, I think I know that guy,” Elder Jacob said as he looked at the dead helicopter pilot. The younger man who had thrown up joined the other two in front of the helicopter.

“Yes, I think I know him,” Jacob said, tilting his head to the right as he studied the pilot. The other two men looked at the pilot and leaned their heads to the right as well.

“I figure these guys forced the pilot here to fly this thing,” Wallace ventured. “They are definitely not friends or anything. Look,” Wallace lifted the pilot’s head up so that the others could see the pilot’s face and forehead. The pilot’s eyes were slightly open, looking down. “The pilot doesn’t have the Mark on his forehead.”

“Yeah, you may be right,” Jacob said as he looked at Wallace. He held out his hand to shake Wallace’s hand. “Good to see you again. I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Wallace. Hi. Good to see you again.” Wallace appeared to quickly wipe his right hand on his pants, then reached out his hand and shook hands with Elder Jacob. “My name is Wallace, and my friends here are Bill and Kathy.” Bill and Kathy stayed seated and waved at the others.

“Meet Alex and Caleb,” Wallace shook hands with Alex, the one with the shotgun, and Caleb. The others waved at each other.

Elder Jacob looked back at the pilot. “Yes, I think the pilot had a crop-dusting business. He had several planes and he bought this helicopter at some Army surplus auction. He had a lot of fun with it. I don’t think he ever thought it would be used to try and kill anyone. That’s too bad. Tragic.”