An Undeclared War (Countdown to Armageddon Book 4) (2 page)

     Zachary summed it up best by observing, “No wonder farmers know so many cuss words.”

     There were other difficulties as well. The secrets that Sara had been keeping finally came out. And she had a new one too. But this one wouldn’t remain secret for long, as her midsection began to expand and she outgrew her clothes item by item.

     She was terrified that the group would send her away, to have the baby on her own in a cold and cruel world. But they surprised her. They treated her bet
ter than her own parents ever had. And they made it clear to her that she and the baby were part of their family now. And that she would never be cast out. That she had just as much right to be there as anyone.

     Scott developed a close friendship with a
San Antonio police officer named John Castro. A war hero, John fought hard to join the SAPD despite leaving half a leg in the burning sands of Fallujah. And he was fighting equally hard to save the city he loved.

     Scott and John talked frequently by ham radio. Scott learned that
San Antonio was decimated. Less than ten percent of the city would survive the waves of starvation and suicides. Bodies were stacked in the streets and burned until they were merely piles of ashes and bones.

     But that wasn’t all. The decomposing bodies had created a pneumonia-like plague that was sweeping through the cities. It was treatable
only with massive doses of penicillin, and was ravaging what was left of the population.

     John was sure to be infected eventually. He was out among the masses every day, trying to restore order and to bring his city back from the brink. But he was desperate to get his wife and two girls away from the city.

     Scott’s group was aware that the citizens of San Antonio were in dire straights. And they wanted to help. So they planted an extra out-of-cycle wheat crop, and harvested it seventy seven days later.

     Tom Haskins went to work on a Walmart truck abandoned by the side of the road since the blackout. He was able to get it running, and seventy two boxes of unprocessed wheat were added to the load
of food.

     Tom and Scott took a harrowing trip back to the city and dropped the load. In exchange for the food, they brought back something even better: John’s wife and daughters.

     Then John came down with the plague. He went into a coma because he was allergic to penicillin and couldn’t be treated using the normal protocol. San Antonio was out of an alternative antibiotic. But Tom was able to find some in nearby Junction.

     The story ended when Scott made a second run to
San Antonio, to drop off the medication that would save his friend’s life.

    
     
 
A Recap of Book 3 of the series,

RISE FROM THE ASHES

THE REBIRTH OF SAN ANTONIO

     Unfortunately, Scott didn’t make it back safely. In fact, he didn’t make it back at all. He was ambushed by a gang of thugs who shot him and left him to die.

     He was able to crawl back to his house, but Robbie was long gone.

     Unable to go any further, suffering from loss of blood and dehydration, he passed out.

     He didn’t know that his loved ones back at the compound were desperately worried about him.
In a panic, they called Robbie and asked him to search for Scott. He found Scott, near death, and rushed him to a hospital.

     Scott recovered fully, but in the process was exp
osed to the deadly plague sweeping through the city. Although he showed no symptoms, he was told he could be a carrier. And that old people and infants were especially susceptible to the infectious disease.

     He opted to stay away from the compound for the few months to a year it would take for the plague to dissipate, instead of risking his newborn grandson. In doing so, he relied on the men and women he left behind to make do without him.

     And he volunteered to help his new friends in the San Antonio Police Department try to regain order in the city.

     The SAPD was decimated and down to just a few officers. They were resorting to desperate measures, and one of them was recruiting good men regardless of their background
s. There was no more police academy. Scott had to learn on the fly, by watching his partners and mimicking their tactics.

     Luckily, by this time most of what the police did had nothing to do with enforcing the laws. Most of their duties involved helping the few survivors in a variety of ways.

     Scott wore the uniform with pride. He knew it was only temporary, and he’d never be a “real” cop. But he was making a difference, and it gave him a sense of accomplishment while he waited for the “all clear” that would allow him to return home again.

And now, Book 4 of the series,

AN UNDECLARED WAR

-1-

     Scott sat down in front of the ham radio and turned it on.

     “Joyce… Linda… whoever’s on duty, this is Scott. Come in.”

     “Hi, Scott. This is Linda. How’s stuff and things there?”

     “Stuff is okay. Things are a bit under the weather. How about on your end?”

     “Everybody’s well here. Who do you want to talk to first?”

     “How about Zachary? Our conversation got cut short last time when our generator cut out.”

     “Okay, he’s right here.”

     “Hi, d
ad. How are you?”

     “I’m fine, son. How’s the reading coming?”

     “Oh, man… I get so tired of reading about biology.”

     “I know, son. But since we have the books anyway you might as well make use of them. An education is something that’ll always come in handy.”

     “I know, dad. It’s just that…”

     Zachary stopped talking momentarily, and Scott thought he’d lost the signal.

     But Zachary merely got distracted, his finger still on the microphone key.

     And simultaneously, Scott heard several things come over the radio’s speakers.

     He heard Joyce yelling, “Oh, my God! We’re being attacked!”

     He heard Linda say, “They’re coming in through the corn field.
Sara, get the kids to the basement.”

     And, most ominously,
he heard the sound of gunfire, and of bullets hitting the house, just before Zachary released the microphone key.

     Then, nothing but dead air.

     The war had begun.   

     John, in the kitchen making coffee, heard the same chatter over the radio and was already on his way to the bedroom.

     And already barking orders.

     “Randy, get that box of ammo out of the garage and throw it in the back seat.”

     “Robbie, get those two gun cases from the back of your closet. We’ll need them. Take
every weapon you have, fellas.”

     Scott, putting on his shoes, yelled to John, “John, do you have any triple A batteries that survived the EMP?”

     “Kitchen, top drawer to the right of the sink.”

     In two minutes flat they were in John’s squad car, hauling ass toward the compound.

     The cavalry was on its way.

-2-

     In the compound not far from Junction, Texas, a fierce battle was raging.

     Tony Pike had made good on his promise to come back with a vengeance. He rounded up reinforcements, made sure they were well armed, and made
sure to attack during daylight this time.

     His logic was that a daytime attack would catch his prey off guard. And it worked. They were caught with their proverbial pants down. All of them, including Tom, was convinced that the assault would come during the hours of darkness, like the first two attacks.

     Pike, therefore, had the initial advantage. And although ground is always easier to defend than to capture, the element of surprise evened the odds somewhat.

     Linda and Tom retook
the same positions on the north side of the house they had during the second attack. In the previous encounter, they drew no fire. Instead, they took careful aim at two point men who were looking for a weakness in their perimeter. And they shot them dead, forcing Pike and his bunch to abandon the fight and withdraw. Licking their wounds for another day.

     This time
Linda and Tom weren’t so lucky. Both upstairs windows were being peppered with bullets.

     Tom was on the radio, trying to keep everybody calm.

     “Okay, remember to stay away from the firing ports unless you’re ready to take a shot. Peek out, spot your target, then get back down. Picture that target in your mind, and get ready to shoot at that spot. Then raise up, rest the rifle on the bottom of the firing port, and take your shot. Then duck back down again and repeat the process.”

     The firing ports were slots, about ten inches wide and four inches high, that were cut into sheets of thick plywood
to form barricades. Five sheets of plywood surrounded the exterior walls on both floors of the house, although only the upstairs windows were equipped with firing ports.

     Tom rose up, just in time to see a man taking a shot at him from the corn field. He was hiding behind the Bobcat Tom had used a few days before when he’d posted a warning sign in the
north end of the field.

     The sign had said, “GO BACK OR DIE!”

     Obviously they chose to ignore it.

     Therefore, as far as Tom was concerned, they chose to die. And he would try his best to accommodate them.

     Most of the windows were broken out by now by incoming bullets, except for a few shards still stuck in the frames. The missing glass made it much easier for Tom to see his target, in the distant field a hundred yards away.

     He rested the hand guard of his AR-15 rifle on the bottom of the firing port and sighted it in on the spot where he’d seen the head pop up from behind the Bobcat.

     And he waited.

     He remained calm, knowing the slightest twitch can ruin a shot. The pad of his shooting finger rested on the trigger, ready to fire.

     The man behind the Bobcat came into view, and was aiming at one of the downstairs windows. Tom eased the trigger back and felt the jolt of his weapon as the man’s head exploded before him. He saw a pink cloud burst out from the back of the shooter’s head, and he fell back to the ground.

     At almost the same instant, another shooter’s bullet found one of the shards of glass
in Tom’s broken window. The glass exploded, peppering the right side of Tom’s face.

     He pulled back and dropped down again to regroup.

     Tom could feel that several slivers of glass had penetrated his skin, and felt warm blood trickling out of a couple of them.

     But he wasn’t upset, and he didn’t curse either the pain or his bad luck. In fact, he considered himself lucky

despite the wound. If his right eye hadn’t been firmly seated against his rifle’s scope, he likely would have lost use of it.

     He had the sense the shot came from the ri
ght, in the area to the east of the fence. It was the area they considered to be their front yard.

     He shifted position and then quickly popped up. He scanned the area and didn’t see anything, and dropped down again.

     There was gunfire coming from another bedroom in the front of the house. It was Joyce.

     Tom got back on the radio.

     “Joyce, do you need help?”

     Hannah was there with Joyce, feeding her ammunition. Joyce was too busy to answer, so Hannah did for her.

     “Tom, there are at least three of them on the front of the house. Joyce shot one, but we keep hearing bullets hitting the bricks outside and the plywood downstairs.”

     It was obvious the front of the house was taking the brunt of the attack.
Linda called Tom, “Tom, can you cover this side if I move to the front to help Joyce?”