Avalon: The Retreat (38 page)

She interrupted him, “Avalon?”

“Yes,” he responded curiously, “It’s a big ranch up on top of a mountain over in that direction…”

She interrupted him excitedly, “Are you talking about a great big log construction at the end of an old railroad track bed that goes through this long road and through those great big trees?”

“That’s the same place,” he answered. “Do you know it?”

“When I was a little girl,” she was almost laughing as she began, “I was up there with my dad before he died of cancer and that’s where we were heading. Avalon… I remember that name; isn’t there a big sign just as you come out of the trees that says that?”

“That’s the place,” Mike answered.

“I remember it was pretty rundown when I was there last, maybe fifteen years ago. Lots of room though.”

“You’re in for a quite a surprise, then.” Mike tried to play down his voice. “It’s changed a little.”

“Is there food there?”

“You could say that.”

“Well, I like the sound of that,” Beth was intrigued. “You boys hurry back, you hear?”

Mike and his people turned and walked back toward Fitch. Fifteen minutes later, he prepped them all, “Let’s get one in the pipe, and make sure your safeties are on.”

The metallic sound of slides moving back and then into place again was a crescendo of clicking as they all complied. The plan was to head toward Fitch from here and then turn left toward the west. The predominant wind was directly in their faces and picking up a little, bringing with it the stench and smell of wood fires with just a hint of roasting meat.

They turned west in another ten minutes and continued walking. None of them talked; all were on the alert for Slavers who were probably looking for them at this very moment. Mike guessed the Slavers probably headed north by the trail of dead bodies his group had left behind to indicate they were moving off in that direction.

They walked for another hour and found their dirt bikes right where they had left them. They cranked them up and headed toward the old rail bed.

Bone Breaker was troubled by what he was being told. Whoever took out all those men were good, too good; so he posted a double guard around the perimeter of the camp. He figured they would be here another month, then move toward the coast and turn south. It was too cold to stay here anyway because it snowed on a regular basis, but this was strange weather they were having. It was amazing how warm it was for this time of year and he expected that wouldn’t last.

They would be out of here before the first big snow.

The bodies were stripped; no weapons, no personal possessions of any value, watches, rings, wristwatches, all gone. Whoever they were, they were damn good. Why didn’t he or anyone else hear anything?

They found 9mm spent brass and by the markings, they were fired by an automatic of some sort. But no noise? He understood the knife slashes; they’re a no-sound action, but 9mm? The knife kills were good; he admired almost as much as he hated the guys who did this. He had his men gather around as he stood on a motorcycle with a trunk on the back, a three wheeler. In a booming voice he said,

“I want you to listen to me, people. There is someone out there somewhere, and they are pickin’ us off one-by-one and by twos and threes. I don’t know if it’s the town people doin’ it or someone else, but it really doesn’t matter who they are; they’re good. They came in here sometime earlier and killed a bunch of our people. Look sharp, be sharp, and don’t let your guard down from now on unless you want to join your pals laying here in puddles of their own blood.”

“I want twenty men to go west,” he continued, “Twenty go to the east, another twenty to the south, and I’ll take a group north. If you find him or them, I want the leader for myself. Everybody understand that? The rest of you make sure you guard the camp and the goodies. I am sure we have superior numbers, and we have good fire power. Let’s do what we do and find ‘em!” He was smiling.

It was an evil smile, not one of mirth.

A cheer erupted from the hundreds of Slavers. The groups of twenty gathered and began to move out to their designated courses. Bone Breaker headed north, confident that his group would find those who had killed his men. He lumbered along at a quick pace. There was a small hill ahead with a clump of trees near it. They would go at least that far, maybe a couple of more miles. He yelled at his guys,

“Spread out; don’t walk too close together; we can cover more area that way. Split up, damn you, and quit talking like a bunch of old ladies at a sewing bee!”

Bone Breaker’s group spread out and the others headed in their designated directions, walking along with their weapons off safety and looking at everything. One group walked toward Beth and the children but her lookouts saw them coming way before they knew they were being watched.

She ordered Jasper on a small mound and told him to hold his fire until he was sure of the first shot. The others were all armed, including the other man who was released the same day as Len. Len found a place, laid on the ground, and spread his legs wide. Beth crawled back and forth between her people, coaching them.

“Steady; take nice easy breaths; don’t allow yourself to hyperventilate; calm and steady; we’re the better soldiers; steady and calm.”

She had seven sticks of the dynamite with fuses ready to go and she reached into her shirt pocket to reassure herself that the blue tip matches were still there.

“Steady boys… be certain of your target. I count about eighteen or so bad guys; that’s nothing, we can take them easily. Everyone pick a target, focus on him, squeeze the trigger ever so gently, and after you fire, move right! That way, we can get them all… easy now… boys… easy, just a little farther and we should be able to get half of them or more. Easy… not yet… easy… NOW!… FIRE!”

The first volley took out twelve bad guys and their cronies ran for cover behind a large boulder. Beth took out a match and lit the fuse on one of the sticks; one thousand, two thousand…

“Jasper, Tom, Len, cover me!”

Beth stood up and threw the stick. It sailed over the top of the rock and exploded in mid air above them. The explosion threw rocks and dirt into the air and fractured the big rock. The bikers pushed their faces into the dirt. One of the men behind the rock came out with an arm missing and blood spurting everywhere, like a torn water hose. He fell over in a worthless heap.

Beth ran over to the rock and looked behind it; there were five more dead guys laying there shredded by the blast. She turned and looked around and saw nothing but dead Slavers lying like cord wood that fell off a truck. Her nose was bleeding again, and she said to no one,

“I gotta throw those things a little farther.”

Her face felt just the way it did the day she was playing basketball and someone threw the ball and hit her directly in the face. It burned and stung fiercely, but would get numb soon. She ordered Len and a couple of the others to make sure the Slavers were all dead and strip the bodies. Several of the children were shrieking hysterically, so she walked over and went down on one knee in front of them. They rushed her and she fell over backward.

Two of the Slavers escaped and ran for their lives; it was a slaughter. They headed toward the camp for all they were worth to tell Bone Breaker; there must have been a hundred of them, just waiting and hiding. They were like sitting ducks in a rain barrel. They must have been military or something like that. They rehearsed the story in their minds as they ran toward the camp. They had grenades and everything. The further they ran, the wilder and more elaborate the story became.

“How many did you count?” Beth was talking to Len perhaps a bit louder than usual since her ears were still ringing.

“I counted eighteen of them.”

“That was about what I counted; I think we got them all. Davey, you and Tom look around in case there’s one hiding down there somewhere. Look hard; we don’t want one of them sneaking up here while we aren’t expecting it.”

Bone Breaker heard the loud boom as they echoed off the surrounding mountains in a drum roll effect toward the end of the long narrow valley, and then it stopped. He looked south but could see nothing. It wasn’t good, a sound like that. Mike and his people heard it too, but were unsure of whether they had heard something or not because the bikes made so much noise. They stopped to listen, but their helmets muffled the echoes that rolled through the valley. They drank some water and headed out again.

The other groups also heard the booms and they didn’t like it. Most of them headed back to camp where, they thought, there was safety in numbers. Bone Breaker and his group made it to the small knoll and spent about fifteen minutes looking for anything suspicious. When they found nothing, they also headed back to their camp.

In about an hour Bone Breaker and his men were back, minus eighteen of them. He called the two who were left of the south group and wanted to know what happened and where the other eighteen were. Reefer spoke first, with his raspy voice and bad cough from all the weed he had smoked in his youth. He was skinny and had hair sticking out of his shirt that grew in profusion on his boney chest. His arms were hairy, too. He said,

“We went south and there’s a small incline that goes up to a small opening in front of a dense stand of trees. They were waiting for us. I think it was the main force, professional soldiers they were. They cut us down with an M-60 mounted on a tripod. We never had a chance! They had grenades and threw one of ‘em at us; that took out half of us. The explosion knocked me and Rick off our feet backward and we rolled down the incline. Lucky for us too, or we’d of died up there with the rest of those boys. There was nothing we could do, so we came back to camp; we figured you’d want to know what happened.”

He began to cough, and Rick just stood there.

“Is that how it happened, Rick?” Bone Break turned his gaze to the other man.

“That’s it… like he said… we never had a chance.”

“Fine,” Bone Breaker realized he wasn’t going to get any more information from them. “Go over and get yourself a woman from the slave tent and have a good night.”

They both turned and walked toward the slave tent that was located in the middle of the camp, surrounded by other smaller tents set up randomly. They approached the tent and the guard looked over at Bone Breaker, who nodded his head in the affirmative. Rick and Reefer went inside.

Bone Breaker was satisfied. Sure he had lost some men, but he knew where the enemy was now and he was going after them shortly. The flies had dispersed some in the last two days; it was strange. He didn’t like this valley anymore and was looking forward to getting out of here.

Beth was discussing the situation with Len and her main boys; she said in a low voice,

“I think we need to move away from here before morning. Sooner or later those eighteen dead down there are going to be missed and if their pals come looking for them, we shouldn’t be here waiting dumb and sassy, know what I mean?”

Everyone agreed.

Len asked, “How soon do you want to move out?”

“Right now,” she answered. “We should circle to the west and head toward that old railroad track bed over that way. That’s where we’re going anyway, so why put it off? The sooner I can get these children to proper food on a regular basis, the better off they’re going to be.” Standing up, she addressed them all. “Okay everybody; let’s get ready to leave this place.”