Razorbacks
By Gunturk
© 2011 Gunturk
The kid was standing in the middle of the weed cracked street of Mount Idona, Arkansas chewing on a stem of grass. His camouflage clothes were buried under military harnesses and gear. The harnesses and his belt were festooned with knives in scabbards. He had a beat up M-4 rifle with a silencer held in front at the ready. The bright yellow sun was coming up behind him. He liked the warmth on his neck. The cobalt sky was filtered by Lincoln green pines and oaks thick with summer growth.
The kid had been to this town before. He liked the people who lived here. He knew a little of their history. They had lost half of their small population when the avian flu killed millions around the world. The village was untouched as the large cities like Hot Springs and Little Rock burned in the savagery and chaos that followed the collapse of the government. The few people that survived had moved to this street to be close to each other. They grew large gardens and had chickens, pigs and a couple of cows. The neighbors of Mount Idona were surviving.
The kid heard a gang of thugs were coming into the Ouachita Mountains. The militia protecting the walled burg of Royal Hill had fought them. They had lost a few people but stopped the attack. The outlaws had moved further into the mountains. The citizens of Mount Idona did not know they were coming. They had no organized militia. They had no defenses built like Royal Hill. The takeover was quick and ruthless. The sheep had fallen to the wolves.
The kid liked to think of himself as a shepherd.
A screen door slammed. Jolly Mike stumbled down the steps and across the street. He was never up this early but had to pee. Their boss Big Tom made them go in the outhouse behind the light green house. He saw the kid in his peripheral vision and stopped. He looked at the kid.
“Hey kid what are doing?”
The kid shrugged his shoulders.
“Got some nice gear there, let me have a look at it.”
The kid shook his head.
“We’ll see about that.” Jolly Mike started up the street towards the kid when a red hole appeared in his chest and started to leak. He grunted, looked at the hole and fell backwards. He never heard the sound of the shot because there was none.
The kid ran to him raised his silenced rifle and shot him through the eye. The metallic cycling of the rifle and a breeze through the leaves was the only sound. The kid expertly searched the dead man’s pockets. He found a yellow handled trappers pocket knife, a half a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a Zippo lighter. He shoved the items into his cargo pocket. He grabbed Jolly Mike by the shirt at his shoulder and drug him into the weeds next to the light green house. He returned to his spot in the street. It was 45 long minutes before the next people went walking to the outhouse. It was Toro and he pulled a young girl by a chain linked to a dog leash around her neck. Her clothes were torn and her face was beat up. They didn’t notice the kid.
“Hey, fart knocker,” the kid said.
Toro stopped and drew his pistol pointing it at the kid. “Who the fuck are …” He could not continue because red blossomed from the bullet hole in his chest. His muscles tightened and the pistol fired. The kid felt the bullet fly past his ear and smiled. Close one. Toro fell dead face first into the street. The kid smiled at the girl. She smiled at him and began kicking Toro in the crotch. Behind her men began to appear in the doorways of the houses on the street.
“Hey, he’s dead already. Get his gun. We have company. Come over here.”
She reached down and gingerly picked up the beat up 9mm pistol. She ran to the kid and stood behind him.
“My name’s Edger what’s yours?”
“Charlotte. I have to pee.”
“Squat behind me I won’t look. I have to watch these guys.” Edger heard the girl set the gun on the ground, her clothes rustling and then peeing. Edger watched the group gather in front of him. They made a path for their leader Big Tom. Tom was a large man with scars on his face and bare chest. There were 11 men in the group. Edger counted two rifles, five shotguns and three pistols. The rest had smashing weapons pipes and clubs. Everyone had a knife in their belt.
“He killed Toro.”
“Isn’t that girl one of our slaves?”
“You are in a world of hurt son,” Big Tom said.
“I ain’t your son, fart knocker.”
“Fuck this,” Big Tom said and drew his pistol. Three red holes opened down his body. The big man groaned and crumpled to the ground. The group froze staring at their leader’s corpse for 2 heartbeats and then scattered. Two more died by the bullets of the silenced sniper before they left the street. Edger kneeled raised his M-4 and killed a mostly naked man with long greasy hair as he ran for cover.
Red Ricky and Hollywood turned to the left ran in between two houses. Ahead of them a clump of grass moved and a shotgun roared. The blast blew back the grass and Ghille suit camouflage revealing the young green eyes hidden there. Red Ricky caught the blast in the chest and fell backwards into Hollywood. He threw Red Ricky to the ground and ran the other way. The shotgun boomed again but missed Hollywood. Red Ricky went writhing in pain to the other side.
Lumpy John, a skinny man with bad acne scars, ran to the right in between two houses and did not see the bear trap hidden in the grass before he stepped in it. The wide steel teeth pierced his leg to the bone and broke it. He screeched in pain and tumbled into the grass. On the other side of the street Fat Charlie stepped into a similar bear trap. The thickness of his leg kept his bone from breaking. Panama Pete who was two steps behind Charlie leapt the fat man as he fell writhing in pain to the ground. Charlie grabbed Pete’s pants. “Get this thing off me,” he screamed.
“Sorry Charlie,” Pete yanked his leg loose and ran. Ahead of him a clump of grass moved and a shotgun roared. Pete had the air knocked out of him by the impact of the double ought balls. A wide patch of blood soaked his shirt and he teetered over backwards.
Fat Charlie screamed, “It’s what you get for not helping me. You mother fucker.”
The grass with the shotgun blasted the fat man into eternal silence. The grass detached itself from the ground and stood up. It was a teenager in a Ghille suit. He walked forward and checked the street. No more bad guys to shoot. Edger saw him and walked over. The girl followed him.
“Good job Edger.”
“Thanks boss. Charlotte this is Rake.”
“Hi Charlotte.”
“Hi Rake.”
“Edger take Charlotte to rally point Able.”
“Yes sir, rally point Able,” Edger said and saluted.
Rake smiled and slapped Edger on the shoulder. As Edger and Charlotte walked up the weed cracked street a teenager dressed in green and draped with tree limbs and leaves walked past them. His face was covered with green face paint. He carried a long green painted Remington 700 rifle with a silencer and a big scope. Edger gave him a high five.
“Thanks Hawk.”
“You’re welcome little brother.”
Hawk walked up to Rake. “Good shooting Hawkeye,” Rake said
“Thanks. I saw two live ones go into that gray house,” Hawk said pointing.
“Good first let’s make sure all of these guys are dead first,” Rake said and drew his Colt 1911 Forty Five.
Hawk slung his rifle over his back and drew his Glock 40 pistol. He walked up to the first down outlaw and kicked the shotgun next to the body out of its reach. He swung his pistol up and fired. The outlaw’s head exploded. The boys walked forward clearing weapons and putting bullets in the heads of the fallen gang members. They walked towards the gray house when Rake held up a closed fist. They stopped.
“Turk’s back there. Let’s get him to cover the back of the house.” They walked up to the edge of the house and stopped. They could smell the coppery smell of Red Ricky’s blood and the latrine smell of his bowels. “Turk its Rake and Hawkeye we’re coming out.”
“Come on,” Turk said.
The boys stepped out and walked up to the green eyed boy in the Ghille suit. “Two of the gang went in the gray house next door to this one. We need you to cover the back.”
“No problem,” Turk said and started moving slowly down the back of the houses. The Ghille suit made it hard to move quickly. They kept an eye on the street and gave Turk a few minutes to set up and started forward. They moved up to the house next to the gray one. When Rake looked around the corner a bearded brigand was waiting with a rifle in the front side window and fired at him. He was able to duck back out of the way. The bullet hit the corner of the house showering them with chips. “Shit that was close,” Hawk said.
“Go around to the back of the house and see if you can get a shot at him,” Rake said.
Hawk retraced their steps across the front of the house and went to the left circling the house. When he got to the rear corner across from the gray house he looked towards the backyard and could not see Turk in his Ghille suit. Dude knew how to disappear.
Hawk went to his knees and lay down on his belly. He edged his head slowly around the corner. He pulled back slowly when he saw the bearded shooter in the front window. No one was in the back window and then he saw a shadow move on the back room’s wall. He pulled further back from the corner’s edge. He heard someone come to the open back room side window. He waited patiently. He thought he heard the guy sigh and the floor creak as he walked from the window. When Hawk looked again the back side window was clear. He could see the guy’s shadow on the back room wall again. A shotgun roared and glass shattered. It made Hawk jump. Turk was on the job. The guy in the back room stumbled into his shadow on the wall. He left a streak of blood as he slid to the floor.
“Kelly?” the guy in the front room hollered.
Hawk could hear Kelly trying to speak but he did not have enough air to make his vocal cords work.
“Shit! Kelly! You mother fuckers killed my best friend. You are going to die, you pieces of shit.”
While he ranted Hawk stretched out around the corner and took aim with his big rifle. When the bearded outlaw came to the window again Hawk was already taking up the slack in his trigger. His rifle was mostly silent with a click of the spring loaded firing pin and a huff of escaping gas as the bullet left the barrel. The bearded man heard the sounds but his brain did not have time to process them. The top of his skull flipped off in a spray of red. He fell into the room stiff like a cut tree.
Hawk saw movement in his peripheral vision and rolled away trying to bring his rifle up. It was a Ghille suited Turk and he was covering the rear side window in case Kelly had not gone to the other side. Rake trotted up the front side window and checked the bearded corpse. No movement. He moved down to the rear window and looked over the edge. The guy looked dead but he went inside to make sure. He put a bullet in Kelly’s head.
“I think that is all of them,” Hawk said standing in the doorway of the room.
“House to house,” Rake said looking at Turk. Rake and Turk took off their Ghille suits.
“This one first.”
The group began going from room to room as a team.
#
Edger led Charlotte down the road to a side road on the right. He followed the side road to an old dirt road that led onto a property thick with brambles. The road was over grown but the thorny growth had not taken over the ruts yet. When they came to the rally point Edger slowly scanned the woods around them. Everything was the same as they had seen it a few days before. He sat against a tree.
“Edger, that guy Hawk, he called you little brother, is he really your brother?”
“No he just calls every one younger than him that. You have to be quiet now. We could give away our rally point if not.”
“Okay.”
What seemed like hours to Charlotte was only 45 minutes in reality. They heard several gun shots as they waited. When the group showed up they had more people with them. Charlotte recognized some of the people as the slaves of the biker gang.
