Eagle People
Eagle People
by WR Benton
ISBN 978-119398126-2-9
Kindle Edition
© Copyright 2014 W.R. Benton
Ebook Production by
Loose Cannon Enterprises
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the author and/or the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Author Photos © Copyright 2012, Melanie D. Calvert
© Contents Copyright 2014 by W.R. Benton
© Cover layout & design Copyright 2014 by
www.dancingfoxpublishing.com
Cover Photo by
Shutterstock.com
used with permission
Edited by: Bobbie La Cour and Daniel Williams
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Books by W.R. Benton
Eagle People, Book 1
War Drums, Sequel to “War Paint”
Hired Gun
The Fall of America, Book 2, Fatal Encounters
The Youngest Mountain Man (Young Adult Western)
Hell Comes to Dixie
Adrift (Young Adult Fiction - Survival)
The Fall of America: Book 1, Premonition of Death
Nate Grisham, Black Mountain Man (Co-Authored with Grady Clark)
Nate Grisham, Black Mountain Man, in Renegade Trapper (Co-Authored with Grady Clark)
Red Runs the Plain
Fur Seekers (Co-Authored with Grady Clark)
Jake Masters: Bounty Hunter
A
lso in
an
Audio Edition
Missouri in Flames, I Rode with Jesse James
War Paint
A
lso in
an
Audio Edition
Bubba's Dawg Might be a Redneck (Southern Humor)
Silently Beats the Drum
James McKay, U. S. Army Scout
Alive and Alone
(Young Adult Fiction – Survival)
A
lso in an
Audio Edition
Simple Survival, A Family Outdoors Guide
Impending Disasters
Dedication
To
Juanita Duryea,
Dee Ayala,
Lisa Alama, Sonny Garrett,
Gina Miles, Lynn Marie Gilleran Eisen,
Rebecca Higgins Meisner,
and Rennae Hanson, friends on Facebook.
A special dedication to
William Robert Patton (WR Patton) who taught me how to live as a man. Not a day goes by I don't miss you, Grandpa.
The year is 2414
and America has changed, as has the whole world, but little for the good. Due to the collapse of America's economy and then government, our nation reverted back thousands of years in lifestyle, standard of living; even medical care is no longer available at any price. Our military, police, and other emergency first responders have been out of jobs for almost four hundred years. The only laws that exist are what a man or woman can enforce through brute strength and the weak perished centuries ago, so only the strongest survive. Computers, cars, electricity, gas, guns, ammo, and other luxury items are no longer available—for any price. Not even the very old remember a different America and, since there are no longer any schools or colleges, it's up to each tribe to teach their young. As a result, some grow up completely illiterate, while others may speak foreign languages.
Soon after our government first fell apart, folks gathered in small groups for survival and most moved to the countryside, where survival was much easier than in the city. In cities, suddenly without any law enforcement, killings, rapes, and kidnappings became the norm and not the exception. Small groups, or tribes, were exterminated by larger groups and then, over time, whole towns and cities were taken over by one powerful tribe. The weeding out of competing tribes was bloody work, because it happened long ago, when most Americans still had guns and ammo. While hundreds of thousands die violently, millions starve to death or die from the lack of the simplest medical care. Drug stores are long closed, so those on medication do without—or die.
Toward the beginning of the end, liberals raised so much hell and contributed so much money toward the start of the collapse, hoping to prevent it, that the Federal Government actually banned guns and ammo from private ownership, which brought deadly battles with police. Most Americans were determined to keep their guns and more than one died, gun in hand, empty brass on the floor, with the Second Amendment written in blood on a nearby wall. Our Bill of Rights were suddenly useless and not enforced. The Constitution was pushed aside and ignored, as the President established martial law, due to expected and anticipated civil resistance to mandatory gun control. Then, after two months under martial law, the President appeared on television and declared himself dictator—for life. It was then that things really turned bloody. Guns that had been expertly hidden previously, were suddenly brought out in the open, and for the second time in our nation's history, we were involved in a bloody Civil War.
Eight years later, the freedom fighters won the war, for what good it did, and the President was shot, along with his entire administration. But with his death arose a new problem; there was no centralized power to establish command or control. Over the next one hundred years, men and women attempted to seize control, but each was violently removed. Finally, after all the attempts stumbled and were removed, the desire to lead our nation completely stopped. Now America was a huge mass of land, with numerous small and large warring tribes, each claiming their own land, resources, and government.
This is where my story starts.
WR Benton
Jackson, Mississippi
Chapter 1
THE BITE OF AMON'S AX
was deep, striking the woman at the base of her neck, and if he hadn't hit her with a downward angle, the blade would have decapitated her. As it was, the hand sharpened bronze cut through her collar bone and blood flew in all directions. She gave a piercing scream and her eyes grew huge in pain and fear. A long spear fell from her hands and she instantly reached for her injury, as if any effort on her part could stop the bleeding. He let her fall and shifted his attention to the man behind her.
He was a big man, tall, but not fat and looked to be in good physical condition, which worried Amon. He'd been living on wild game, wild cows, dogs, and an occasional cat, so he wasn't in the best shape in the world, but he ate what his tribe could provide. Just as the man stabbed at him with the metal tip of his spear, an arrow took the stranger in the throat and he fell, blood spewing in all directions. He began to choke and claw at the ground, but Amon ignored him; he was dead meat, except his mind didn't realize it yet.
The woman he'd struck with his ax was having trouble breathing and her body quivered as she looked at him with pleading eyes. Eyes that, under different circumstances, he might have even found appealing. As it was, her and the man who'd attempted to kill him would soon be dead.
Mongoose walked from the tree line, gave Amon a smile, and then moved to the woman. She pulled her knife as she walked and he saw the sharp blade flash once in the bright sunlight. The woman with the ax injury gave a loud gargling sound and began to choke on her own blood. In less than three minutes she'd be dead, bled out like a hog at a butchering. Later, he would notice her open, but unseeing, eyes filled with fear and pain.
“Thomas, gather their gear.” Mongoose ordered as she stood on the trail and scanned the countryside.
A thin, but tall black man walked from the trees to the dead and started removing anything of value. He removed anything that could be used by them in the field or in barter with others. Amon counted an even dozen dead and there were no wounded, but few captives were ever taken. Men taken captive were usually tortured to death, or if a woman or young child was discovered, they were more often than not adopted into the tribe.
“Ralph!” Mongoose yelled, “Return for our horses.”
“I'll be right back.” a voice called from the protective cover of the oak and hickory trees.
Thomas returned a few minutes later and said, “I found a few spears, seven bows with an equal number of quivers, and one rusty old pistol. I'm not sure what the man had the gun for, because he only had one bullet, and it looked like hell. It was green from oxidation and badly corroded.”
Amon asked, “Which was corroded, the gun or bullet?”
“Both. It looked like an old .45 Colt, with the rotating cylinder, but the hammer was rusted shut.”
“Any barter?”
The black man grinned and said, “A small pouch on one of them with gold teeth, two diamonds, and about a half dozen jewels of lesser value.”
Amon said, “They've been in graves if they have gold teeth. Hell, there ain't a practicing dentist alive today, or so I think. I ain't never seen one, but my great great granddaddy remembered a few of 'em.”