Suicide Six_Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Read online

  “I will not let them take you away from our family!”

  Chapter 3

  January 23

  The Armstrong Ranch

  Borden County, Texas

  Manuel Holloway was furious with himself for not procuring any form of night-vision device to assist in his assault on the ranch. Instead, he relied upon his commandos’ superior training to sneak up on the ranchers, using the element of surprise to kill them one at a time if necessary. Unfortunately, one of the trigger-happy members of his team had taken it upon himself to fire upon the two riders along the fence row.

  Based upon the lack of return fire, he assumed they were either killed in the initial volley or later when the horses were gunned down. When he was in the service, he’d had the best weapons of war the United States had to offer, including superior communications gear and night vision. Out here, in this deserted part of West Texas, they had to fight without the benefit of advanced gear, but so did their targets at the ranch.

  He’d ordered his men to advance, and he learned they’d had some success at the guard tower, killing one and apparently wounding another. All of his teams had crossed the ranch’s border fencing and were advancing in the faint glow of light emanating from the area where the ranch house and two barns stood.

  This ranch was his prize. It was going to be a place for Holloway and his gang to hang their hats while they terrorized West Texas for years to come. He knew the long-term impact of a grid-down scenario. All of North America would struggle to survive and later rebuild. Those who died would leave behind items of value that Holloway would use to set up his future.

  By the time the dust settled and ninety percent of the population disappeared, ashes to ashes, as they say, he’d be squared away, secure, and hopefully rich.

  There was a second incentive for him to take this particular ranch. He firmly believed that the soldier boy who’d been a pain in his neck since Winslow, Arizona, was connected to this place somehow. With a little luck, Holloway would get his revenge on the man tonight. At the very least, he’d pile the bodies in a heap out by the pigsty for soldier boy to find later.

  Holloway studied the area through the monocular, using his only eye to determine what type of activity was occurring around the house. At first, the ranch house was lit up like a Christmas tree. The occupants clearly didn’t understand the concept of light discipline. They never imagined being attacked.

  Kudos to them, he thought to himself as the premature shooting by his men drew reactions from the ranchers. Within seconds after the gunfire, the lights were doused except for the faint glow of a lantern in the barn nearest to him.

  Based upon his surveillance, he suspected the ranch house and the barns were surrounded by a dozen men or less. That was assuming, of course, they didn’t put rifles in the hands of women and children. He doubted that was the case, as the Texans would be too proud to enlist the weak to defend against the strong. No, these cowboys were too arrogant for that.

  That said, he thought to himself, they obviously had no intention of giving up the ranch. Holloway leaned back against the Ford truck that had been his ride for the last couple of weeks. He considered his options.

  Holloway could allow his men to continue their advance under cover of darkness, but they were in the open and in unfamiliar territory. The ranchers, now that the element of surprise had been lost, would be dug into defensive positions. They’d be prepared in anticipation of an attack.

  His men were trained killers and most likely possessed superior firepower. However, they were also the visitors on this field of play, and the home team had a lot to live for.

  Once again, he observed the buildings through the monocular. There was no activity except the swinging lantern in the nearest barn. It was time to break their spirit and end this thing.

  “Bring me the last RPG!” he shouted to one of his men. “I’m not a patient man, and I don’t intend to be sitting out here in case they’ve called for the cavalry.”

  His best rocket-propelled grenade gunner arrived at his side.

  Holloway handed him the monocular. “Can you find the barn? Look for a barely visible light.”

  The commando took the monocular and placed it over his eye socket. He quickly pulled it down and wiped the moisture onto his shirt. Holloway was prone to sweating profusely regardless of the outside temperature.

  “I see it,” he replied. “This is my target?”

  “Yes, but nothing else. The barn and its contents are expendable. We have an extra barn, and from what I can tell, those hiding inside won’t really do us any good.”

  “Yes, sir,” the gunner replied nonchalantly as he affixed Holloway’s last grenade to the launcher and looked through the sights to identify the target. After a tense moment, he announced, “I’ve got the target in my sights.”

  “Well, let her fly!”

  Chapter 4

  January 23

  The Armstrong Ranch

  Borden County, Texas

  Lucy noticed the sudden silence of the gunfire while Riley finished packing Red Rover. Her curiosity overcame her, so she walked through the house toward the front porch. The high-pitched whistling sound was unlike anything she’d heard before. It was eerie and ominous at the same time.

  The ripping and crunching sound of the rocket-propelled grenade crashing into their barn, coupled with the intense bright light and heat, momentarily mesmerized Lucy. She was frozen on the front porch for a brief second before the gust of energy, air, and debris knocked her backwards and into the foyer.

  Her ears were ringing when suddenly she found Preacher hovering over her. She tried to lift her arm, and the pain seared through her, bringing her back to the present. She knew he was talking to her, but she couldn’t hear, nor comprehend, what he was saying.

  Lucy glanced over to her left arm, which was on fire. Her eyes widened, unable to grasp what had happened to her. Preacher was swatting at her arm with his jacket in a desperate attempt to douse the flame. The wound she suffered turned out to be superficial first-degree burns, but they scarred her to her core.

  She looked to her right arm at a piece of wood sticking out of her forearm. The barn-red paint color mixed with her blood to a near perfect match. Her senses began to return, and then she understood what was stuck in her body—part of the barn.

  Lucy found her voice and screamed in pain.

  Riley was by her side now, and he touched her face. His hands comforted her, but his wiping the smoke and soot from her cheeks didn’t take away the searing pains in both of her arms.

  She just wanted to sleep.

  Maybe I’ll take a little nap, and when I wake up, this terrible nightmare will be over. Maybe I’ll mosey up to the barnyard and gather some eggs. Yep, that’s just what I’ll do.

  Lucy’s eyes grew heavy, and then she drifted away.

  *****

  “Momma, wake up! Wake up!” begged Riley as tears streamed down his face. He was wiping her face, trying to stir his mother awake.

  Gunfire erupted again, forcing him to listen to Preacher’s instructions, which had fallen on his deaf ears. His entire focus had been on his mother.

  Finally, Preacher shook Riley back into the moment. “Riley! You have to get her to safety. Boy, can you hear me?”

  “But-but,” Riley stammered. Then he recovered. “Yeah. Okay. What should I do?”

  “Riley, take her to the east woods, down where you guys hunt hogs.”

  “In the truck?” Riley still wasn’t thinking clearly.

  Preacher took a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm. They had only a short time to survive or die at the hands of the North Koreans. “Yes. Take her to the truck. I’ll fetch her medical bags and meet you there. Drive Red Rover down the ravine to the woods and take care of her wounds.”

  “But, but, um, I don’t—”

  “Riley, just stop the bleeding and make her comfortable. I’m gonna find Palmer and Sook. They’ll be right behind you, okay?’


  Riley looked through his teary eyes and nodded. He stooped over his mother and easily scooped up her limp body in his arms. While he carried her outside to the rear of the ranch house, Preacher grabbed a couple of gallon jugs of water and Lucy’s medical bags, including the one she’d created especially for trauma injuries.

  Within minutes, Riley was on his way, and Preacher raced back toward the destroyed barn.

  He had been watching the north driveway when he heard the incoming RPG. He’d never been to war, but he’d seen enough war movies to know what the sound probably meant. Instinctively, he’d leapt between two large rolls of hay and covered his head. The explosion had been deafening.

  After it hit, he immediately exited the barn and saw the devastation. The RPG had struck the horse pen in front of the other barn, which housed the underground bunker. The impact leveled the barn, caught it on fire, and sent burning debris in all directions. When he saw parts of the barn on the front porch lying in flames, he immediately ran to the house. His concern was for Lucy and Riley at that point because he assumed the ranch families in the bunker had perished.

  Now, he had to go see. Preacher covered his face with his arm and ran toward the structure, which was fully engulfed in flames. As he approached, Palmer and Sook came from his left, riding at breakneck speed toward the house. He stopped and ran toward them.

  “Preacher!” shouted Palmer. “Oh my God!”

  Preacher ran to meet them, and he held his hands high in the air to prevent the girls from getting closer. Palmer was about to dismount when he stopped her.

  “There’s no time to get off. Listen to me, please, and do as I say, quickly.”

  To reiterate the sense of urgency, more gunfire was exchanged between the commandos and the guys firing back from the silos.

  Preacher continued. “Go to the other barn and take two of the horses that are tied to the posts. They’re already saddled up from earlier. Please be careful. They’ll be agitated.”

  “Okay, Preacher. But where’s Momma and Riley?”

  Preacher was about to answer the question truthfully but caught himself. He needed Palmer to remain calm. He’d already assessed Sook and was impressed with her stony demeanor in the face of danger. Palmer was more emotional out of concern for her mother. He chose to tell a half-truth to prevent an accidental injury from exacerbating the situation.

  “They took Red Rover to the east woods. You know, where you guys go huntin’. Do you know where they would go?”

  Palmer nodded, as did Sook. Both had kept their adventure in the east woods a secret from the others.

  “Okay, go, and be careful. I’m gonna round up Cooper and see if it’s possible to help the folks underground.”

  This caused Palmer to turn her horse toward the barn. She took in the scene and covered her mouth. Tears began to flow from her eyes. “Oh. God, no!”

  Preacher grew concerned as the gunfire stopped once again. This probably meant the commandos were advancing. “Palmer, please. You’ve got to go now!”

  The girls reacted and dug their heels into the horses’ sides. They took off for the barn that was miraculously still standing, as it had for many decades.

  Preacher once again turned his attention to the destroyed barn. The fire had subsided somewhat, which enabled him to get closer. Through the crackling of burning timber, he heard horses racing in his direction. It was Cooper and one of his ranch hands.

  Cooper pointed in Preacher’s direction to acknowledge his presence, but the guys raced past him toward the house, where they could safely tie off their horses. Preacher ran toward them, meeting them halfway in the middle of the yard.

  “Dang it, Preach! They’re gonna get buried alive under there!” exclaimed Cooper.

  Preacher looked back toward the barn and saw that it was beginning to shift towards his left. “It’s gonna collapse!”

  Slowly at first, and then succumbing to the weight of the burning roof structure, the barn built to conceal their underground bunker gave up. It toppled over in a mass of shooting sparks and flames rising high into the air.

  “What do we do?” Cooper shouted as he walked closer to the burning pile of debris. He shielded his face from the heat to get a better look.

  Preacher joined his side, and the two inched closer. More gunfire erupted from the north side of the ranch, reminding them that they were standing out in the open and vulnerable.

  “Boys, come with me!” shouted Preacher as he darted toward the other barn. His ranch hand and Cooper quickly followed.

  “We’ve gotta do something to help them!” yelled the ranch hand, who turned his attention back to the flames. “They’ll die in there!”

  Cooper grabbed him around the shoulders and led him back toward Preacher and the other horses, which were nervously pacing in their stalls.

  “Boys, listen up.” Preacher began to issue his instructions. “Saddle up two of the horses, and then let the others go. Shoo them out of the barn in case the fire spreads.”

  “Okay. What do we do with the saddled horses?” Cooper asked as he grabbed a saddle off the rack and handed it to his helper.

  Preacher walked over to his horse and pulled out his rifle. After the two horses were saddled, he tapped his ranch hand on the shoulder. “Take my horse around back and tie it off to a post. Then come back here. Hurry!”

  The young man untied Preacher’s horse. He mounted the stallion and took off.

  Preacher then addressed Cooper. “Can you handle leading these two horses down the ravine?”

  “Yeah, sure. But—”

  Preacher held up his hand to cut Cooper off. “Coop, we can’t hold out much longer. They’ll be coming for us now, so we’ve got to go.”

  “Are you saying we’ve gotta give up the ranch? And what about those people in the bunker? They’ll die.”

  “Listen, Coop. Even without power and a source of fresh oxygen, they can survive in there for up to twenty-four hours. As for the ranch, we’re not giving it up—permanently.”

  “Whadya mean?”

  “Coop, we’re gonna live to fight another day. We’re gonna save ourselves and figure out what to do next. But if we take a last stand, we’re both gonna die.”

  Preacher buckled his knees slightly and looked directly into Cooper’s eyes. “Do you understand what I’m saying? This battle is lost. But tomorrow is a new day.”

  “Okay. Okay. Where do we go?”

  Preacher patted him on the shoulders and smiled. They walked briskly, leading the two horses into the front yard, and approached the house.

  “Coop, take these two horses and lead them down the trail. I’ve sent everyone to the woods. Join up with them, establish a secured perimeter, and take care of them. You’re in charge, Coop. Can you handle it?”

  “Yessir,” Cooper replied respectfully. “But why aren’t you coming?”

  “I’m gonna hold them off and give you time to get a clean getaway. I don’t want them to see you leading the horses away.”

  “But let me—”

  “Nope, scoot. We’re out of time. Go!”

  Cooper spontaneously hugged Preacher before he took the reins of the horses, which were saddled and ready to go.

  Only Cooper’s horse remained. “Preach, the kid took off. You’re alone. Maybe I should—”

  “No, Coop. I got this. Now git!”

  Preacher followed him to the front of the house and held the reins as Cooper mounted his ride.

  Cooper tipped his hat, and Preacher did the same. As Cooper pulled on the reins to leave, Preacher shouted after him, “Texas strong!”

  Cooper nodded his head upward in agreement. “Texas strong!”

  Chapter 5

  January 23

  The Armstrong Ranch

  Borden County, Texas

  Cooper had only been gone a minute, leaving Preacher standing alone on the front porch of the ranch house. With the ranch hand taking off after leading Preacher’s horse to the rear of the house, Preacher knew he was
on his own. The Armstrong Ranch had been his home since his fall from grace as the minister to a small congregation. When Major and Lucy had taken him in, with no questions asked about his past, he’d rewarded them with a loyalty that only a member of the family could bestow. He’d dedicated his life to the operation of the Armstrong Ranch, and now, as he stared at the scene before him, the place he called home was partially in flames. It was under attack by an unseen enemy from a foreign land. And he was the last man standing.

  He allowed himself too long to reminisce about his life as a former preacher and now as the man who ran the Armstrong Ranch. The bullets that ripped into the railing and post next to him were a reminder of the task at hand. He ducked for cover and scrambled inside.

  He swept the still-smoldering debris out of the way and closed the door. There were no locks to lock. This was the Armstrong Ranch, and it hadn’t needed to be locked up since it was built—until now.

  He leaned against the thick walls built of oak and mortar mix. The windows had been shattered and forced inside from the RPG blast. As more bullets hit the front façade of the ranch house, Preacher knew the commandos were closing in.

  They were firing at the house in short bursts of five or six rounds each. They had no apparent target. The shots were meant to intimidate and induce surrender. Preacher would not surrender. He’d likely be tortured and killed anyway. His adversaries were animals—not human.

  His mind raced. How can I distract them and keep them focused on me?

  If he used the upstairs windows overlooking the barn and the front yard, he’d have the high ground, but if they penetrated the downstairs, his means of escape would be cut off. He thought about the drop from the roof of the kitchen. The expansion of the kitchen years ago had included a lean-to tin roof to cover firewood from moisture.