The Last Gallon (15 page)

Mark and the family found the quarry right as the sun was beginning to go down. It looked like every other quarry he had ever seen, including the beautiful blue-green pond where rainwater had gradually filled the hole dug by the rock removing equipment. Mark had no clue what exactly he was looking for in way of access to the cache so he slowly drove around the facility. It looked like it had been abandoned when the war broke out and still had equipment left outside and rotting away in the elements.

The quarry had a large rock outcropping at its north-most point with a sheer wall front. Mark and Kara examined this area thoroughly because it literally looked like it could be the front of a building. Mark eventually found a straight crack that appeared to run up about eight feet. He followed it horizontal for a bit and then back down. It was a doorway!

Everyone gathered around and Mark instructed them to try to find a way to open it. Mark and Kara searched the wall, Cindy searched a nearby outcropping and Joey dug around in the dirt. They searched until it was too hard to see then used the car to illuminate the area and searched some more. Joey was starting to get pissed and picked up a large rock to throw it. Underneath he saw flat ground that didn’t look quite right. He quickly wiped away the dirt and rock debris and found a steel plate.

Joey gathered everyone around as the
y lifted the plate. There was a large red pushbutton underneath the plate. Mark instructed him to push it and he did. Nothing happened for a moment but Mark started hearing clicks and the whir of ventilation fans. Everyone stared at the door in anticipation and after another minute or so it slowly slid open.

The vestibule of the cache was awash in florescent light. It flickered with the awful nightclub effect of lighting that had not been lit off in a long time. The family tried to adjust their eyes to it but it was impossible. Mark hoped that it would stabilize out in a few minutes after it warmed up and it eventually did.

The cache had two enormous doors with a large screen in-between. Underneath the screen was a large red button, much like the one out front. Mark stepped forward and pressed it and the door closed while the two large doors opened and the screen came to life.

“Welcome to US Government
Reciviliation Unit 11” a female voice said out of nowhere. “Please reference the map and enjoy your stay.” The screen flickered again and brought up a map of the facility. Mark scanned the rooms and his jaw dropped.

The left portion of the facility, listed as level one contained 3 rectangular rooms and one upside-down L shaped room. The L room was listed as Barracks (x3 levels, 10,000 bunks per level. 100 private suites per level). The next room down was an indoor 5 acre grow room. Next to it was a 3 level food store-room and finally, closest to them was 1.5 million gallons of water storage and a treatment facility. Mark giggled uncontrollably but was in for a real treat when he looked to the right side hallway.

The right side was 4 large rectangular rooms. The farthest back was simply listed as Small-arms Armory but it was close to the size of the farm on the other side. Mark was giddy with the thought of 5 acres of small-arms. Next to that was a room labelled Artillery and MLRS. After that was Tanks and APCs, and last was a 1.5 million tank of each gasoline and diesel. It appeared to go up into the rock instead of down like the other parts of the facility.

Mark pressed the down button to look at the other levels of the facility. On the left the lone non multi-level room was a 5 acre library. On the right were rooms holding attack helicopters and
drones. Another room contained cars, trucks, and service vehicles. The last large room contained farm and construction equipment. Mark also noticed a smaller room forward of the entry way on the second level that was not labelled. He made a note to check that part of the facility later.

The third and final level contained a museum, a chow hall and support facilities including a barbershop
, clinic, sewing facilities and the like. Mark was amazed and the family was just as astonished. They had truly thought of everything from what he could tell on the map. He was now in command of enough equipment and know-how to start rebuilding.

Mark went into the level 1 tank and APC room to get an idea of the scale of the building. When the door opened he caught the smell of packing grease and fuel right away. The room contained 4 rows of vehicle that continued on as far as the eye could see. The tanks ranged from M-60s all the way up to the newest iteration of M-1 along with some British and French models thrown in the mix. It seemed like the cache was filled in the 60s or 70s and then gradually updated as budget and time allowed. The APCs ranged from old-school M113s to modern Bradleys and foreign models.

Mark gave the equipment a once over and it was immaculate. He assumed the building was hermetically sealed until Joey had pushed the button which activated the generators and fan systems. This made complete sense as the building would preserve its contents until it needed to be fit for human life. The forethought was staggering but Mark was very glad that someone had made the effort.

Mark gave up count but he figured on at least 200 tanks and double that number in APCs along with an ammunition area that had crates of main gun ammo stacked to the ceiling. He moved on to the armory so he could confirm they would have the ammunition they needed. His concern was quickly dispelled as he opened the door.

Not only were there acres of stacked loaded ammo boxes but there was a complete ammunition factory on site. There were components stacked and ready to make any calibre that man had loaded in the last century. There were anti-tank weapons, machine guns, long-guns of every variety. Not only did they think to provide an army the weapons they needed but also weapons for ranchers and farmers and even home
defense weapons. Again it seemed the cache was started back when the M1 Garand was the main weapon and there were at least 200 examples that looked fresh off the manufacturer’s production line.

At the end of each of the vehicle rooms there was a door that led out to a parking garage
style ramp system. This was how vehicles were moved in and out of the facility. Mark ran up the ramp to the end and opened the door. The side of the rock structure opened up like a garage door and led to outside. Mark grabbed the Armadillo and drove it out of sight to keep anyone from figuring out their location.

The family spent hours exploring the place, not even realizing how much time they were spending. The library contained history, engineering, math, chemistry, physics, and just about any subject one could think of that would be needed to rebuild a country. It also featured a fiction area because the designers knew its inhabitants would need to unwind occasionally.

The museum contained examples of important discoveries and inventions throughout the ages. The idea was they could be deconstructed and re-created again.

The food storage facility had freeze-dried meats and vegetables of all varieties, barrels upon barrels of rice, wheat, noodles, sugar, powdered milk, cheeses and just about anything else that could be long term stored. There were also seed pods of almost every plant imaginable for future cultivation.

The non-military vehicle section had cars and trucks, delivery vehicles, construction vehicles, armored construction equipment like the Navy Seabees used, and just about every farm implement imaginable. It was refreshing to see the level of planning that went into the construction of these facilities and there were apparently at least 10 more spread across the United States.

Mark
traveled to the second floor to explore the out-building that was forward of the main complex. The entrance was hidden to the side of the main stairwell, down a narrow corridor. The hallway ended with big, heavy double doors. Mark had a hard time pushing them open and when he finally got them to budge he realized they were nearly 6 inches thick.

To the left the room had a small control room; its panel was dimly lit but clearly active. There were four separate controls with four separate maps of the world. Mark was not sure what he was looking at so he moved on. There was another thick door
opposite of the control room. Mark pushed it open and found himself in a cylindrical room that had a platform around it. Down below, in the depths of the hole was a missile.

Mark explored the rest of the silo and found three more just like it. Upon returning to the control room area he found another door with the universal radiation symbol on it. He opened the door and found 24 crates with the words warhead,
W-58, 200kt on the side. He also found the complete entry vehicle, guidance system, and nosecones to build 8 Polaris A3 missiles, four of which were ready to go in the silos. The family had just become a nuclear power.

“Dinner is served” came through the intercom in Kara’s voice as Mark sat on the steps outside the silo in contemplation. Athena was right; they had just walked into the means to set about the recreation of civilization. He was both happy and frightened to the core because he knew that one day he would probably have to launch one or more of these missiles in anger.

On his way to the third level he stopped by the air-wing of the cache. Like the other sections it had apparently been stocked in the 60s and the helicopters ranged from Cobra gunships, UH-1 Huey gunships all the way up to Apache, an MH-60, and the tiny AH-6 “Little bird” gunships.

In another corner sat a dozen MQ-9 unmanned drone attack craft. Mark shivered when he looked at them, he considered them horrible creatures and they were responsible for the death of many American freedom fighters. He hoped he would never need to use them in combat, he hoped he never lost his humanity enough to think it was a good idea to execute people from a thousand miles away with the push of a button.

Mark made his way to the enormous chow hall and found his family already eating. “What’s for dinner?” he asked as he pulled out his chair causing the noise to echo down the empty hall. “Spaghetti and meatballs with fresh artisan bread” Kara said. “Cookbooks are wonderful things” Mark said with a wink as Kara discreetly flipped him off.

Everyone had stories of things they had found. Kara had obviously discovered the pantry and cookbook collection, Cindy found a fully stocked dispensary that had every antibiotic and useful drug known to man stored in safe conditions. She said there was probably enough medicine to treat everyone for around 5 years if the place was at capacity.

Joey had explored the private suites and found them to be perfectly adequate. They were one bedroom, one bath affairs with a small living area but no kitchen. The idea of the facility was apparently solidarity through food as the mess-hall could serve nearly 10,000 people at once.

Mark talked about the military equipment he had discovered and said that Vincent would probably have a heart-attack. “Vincent!” Mark suddenly remembered. “SHIT!” He quickly finished his meal and told Joey to hurry up as he was coming along. Mark hoped his friend was still around and felt like a complete asshole for forgetting
about him and his crew.

Dawn broke with the sound of gunfire across the city. The cartel came in with blitzkrieg style force and was steadily pushing towards the airport. The citizens of Jonesboro were used to short, brutal raids and responded by throwing as much lead at the attackers as they could. Members who occupied the National Guard unit used their newly acquired Bradley and the few lighter APCs they already owned to slow the onslaught.

The Zetas had nothing in their arsenal that could stop a Bradley so they did their damnedest to avoid them. The 25mm chain gun ripped through a column of cars that made a bad turn. Three of them exploded as the rounds impacted them, penetrated their engines and gas tanks and set them alight.

Vincent was alerted by the initial contact on the outskirts of town and had the convoy ready to go. They had arranged themselves in a defensive posture and were just waiting for the cars to come into view. It was a modern version of waiting to see the whites of their eyes to fire.

The Zeta main attack squad fanned out on the runway and charged at the awaiting convoy. The convoy opened up with TOW missiles from the
3 remaining Bradleys which absolutely devastated the front line cars. After the missiles impacted the chain guns and light machine guns the convoy owned all open fired.

Line after line of car was destroyed but for each car that was destroyed another got close enough to fight. One of the deuce and a
halfs took 3 RPG rockets and was hit hard enough to lift off the ground and roll-over. Another RPG car took out one of the modified H2s. The cars that broke through the wall of destruction put up by the Bradleys and fixed machine guns on the Humvees started doing drive-by style shootings on the squads of troops huddled behind the cover of their vehicles.

Tom Clarkson commanded a squad of twenty men and women. They were the first group to feel the wrath of the Zetas. Tom had his squad hunkered behind a truck when 2 of the cars came squealing around the corner with men hanging out the windows firing their weapons. Two of his men took hits from the wildly inaccurate attack but they were too slow to react and return fire.

“Split up, 4 groups of 5” Tom commanded. He reasoned that smaller groups would be harder to hit and they would have to concentrate on one group which would allow the other 3 to attack. Everyone had their safeties off and were ready to get on the trigger as soon as the gang reappeared.

A lone car came around the corner next and the fire team closest took the brunt of the attack. Tom saw Karen Wiseman go down and two of the men with her took hits. The other three groups peppered the car with accurate fire and everyone on the left side took rounds including the driver who veered off and crashed into a hangar building.

Tom rushed over to Karen to see if she was ok. She was on the ground bleeding pretty heavy but the hits were not critical. She had a smile on her face and was demanding they bandage her up so she could get back out and “level the bastards”. Tom tapped on her leg and gave her a thumbs up while he discreetly called for a medic to get her off the battle field.

All the groups who split into fire teams fared well.
The few who did not were nearly devastated. One of those groups was run by David Simmons. He didn’t even have time to organize. His group was pinned down by four cars. They formed a crescent around his group and their cover and opened fire. All occupants got in on it because the gangsters on the right side got out and used the cars as cover.

David’s group was annihilated in about a minute. One of the Bradley operators caught the end of the slaughter and fired his chain gun into the cars taking out most of the attackers but the damage had already been done and 16 friendly
lives were claimed.

One of the Bradleys took an RPG to the tread and was disabled. It still stood its ground and fired on the attackers but it was immobile for the rest of the fight. Vincent soon realized that staying put was turning very costly and ordered the
Humvees and remaining Bradleys into action.

Tonya Roberts was Bradley #3’s commander. She ordered the vehicle to charge headlong into the wave of cars that approached. “Let’s play chicken with the bastards” she said and patted her driver on the helmet. The light tank lunged forward and picked up speed surprisingly well for its size and girth.

A string of about 12 cars was barrelling down the runway at the convoy when the Bradley fired its massive engine to life. It was coming as they were going and the distance between them was being evaporated at an astonishing rate. The lead driver got squeamish first and cut the wheel hard right, the driver behind him chose left. The one in the middle didn’t get a chance to choose as the Bradley slammed into it.

Tonya and her crew slammed against the interior of the machine as her IFV climbed up and over the car while crushing it to bits. Her gunner opened up with the machine gun and took pot shots at the other cars as they split the carnage in
front of them caused by the collision. The Humvees behind Tonya took these targets of opportunity and laid round after round of 7.62mm armor piercing rounds into the engine blocks of the cars which rendered them useless.

The battle raged on for about 45 minutes. When the Zetas were reduced to 10 cars they decided they had enough and sped away. Vincent considered giving chase but there was no use, they wouldn’t have enough fuel to get back if they did that.

Mark and Joey were hauling ass down US-63 when they saw several battered cars fleeing down Dan Avenue. Joey hopped into the turret and fired 5 successive grenades which demolished half of the remaining cars. He tried to get another shot off but the cars were lost in the fire and smoke of their destroyed comrades.

When they pulled into the airport it was a gruesome scene. Several fires still raged and the dead were being p
ut into two piles, one for Zeta and one for Vincent’s men. The only bright side to the situation was the Zeta pile was several times bigger but that did nothing to minimize the devastation of Vincent’s once proud convoy.

Two Bradleys remained in working condition,
4 Humvees, and 3 deuce and a halfs. A once powerful convoy of 21 vehicles including the Armadillo had been reduced to 10. Worst off was the cost in personnel. Vincent had lost 80 of his 187 soldiers and another 30 were wounded. For all intents and purposes he was down to about 75 fighting personnel and he was none too happy about it.