A Private War (13 page)

The tractors and wagons were still needed to bring the incoming supplies back up the hill and into Redway’s walls. So the battle had to be ended quickly before all the tractors were shot up as the one Gaylon had been in was now smoking and all the tires were flat. This also made getting it off the road into a major operation for the shorthanded crews. As Gaylon watched, the last sled headed down the hill and the first tractor wagon combo followed it. Samuels ran up and behind the tractor where Gaylon sat.

“They had a few problems but everyone is alive at the bottom of the hill. Kate and Jill are getting them on board now. Peters took off with his team to take out the machinegun. So, we should be clear soon. I told those idiots to watch for Murdock to show up. I lost ten men up there! Damn it!” He roared.

“Nothing we can do about that now. We’ll be able to still use most of the tractors to get everything back up the hill. But, we don’t have much time. Murdock is sure to be on his way here now. That is the only reason they are shooting now. To slow us down! If they had waited, they could have gotten us with the supplies at the top of the hill. So maybe we can pull this off yet. “ Gaylon yelled and fired at the hilltop. “ I hope Ole Willy came through for us!”

Ole Willy was pushing 90 but knew more about trucking then anyone else alive. Gaylon had walked up to him as Willy told another one of his stories. Part fact and part lie, Willy had been hell-bent for leather in his early days. Trucking old Route 66 from Chicago to the West Coast and back again, load after load. Along the way he had picked up a number of scars and a much broken nose. This caused him to breathe through his mouth. Not a pretty sight until he put his teeth back in. But, that only added to the story Ole Willy thought. Kind of proven that he had been there! So, while they had been planning the rescue of Austin. Gaylon had remembered ole Willy and his stories of driving and fixing diesel trucks.

“Hey, Willy! I got a job for you! How much would it take to get a few trucks in running condition. Only you can’t tell anyone where you are going or what you need them for. Only that some old fool wanted them. Think you can do it on the quiet?” Ole Willy looked him up and down then spit on the floor at Gaylon’s feet. “I’ll take that for a yes.” Gaylon lowered his voice and told Willy the plan that Gaylon and Samuels had come up with for Plan B. Ole Willy cracked a smile as he heard what he was needed for. As Gaylon walked away, he smiled as Willy motioned some of his buddy’s over. And saw smiles formed on old lips around Willy’s table. Now, it was time to call on Ole Willy to save the day.

Gaylon yelled, “Call in the trucks! And tell Willy to move his ass! We got supplies to move!” Just as small arms sounded near the hilltop, Peters had come through for them just in time. Gaylon and Samuels looked over the side of the tractor as the shooting ended. Peters was waving down on them. “I like that man’s style!”

Samuels moved off to find his radioman and to get the Semi’s moving toward the unloading paddle wheeler. While Gaylon got busy getting the last of the tractors turned around and headed back toward Redway. Their trip was finished so there was no need to keep them there. The crews waved as they headed out. The empty wagons were left where they were and the tractors could go much faster without them. Getting back to Redway in minutes and not hours. Gaylon made sure that they have salvaged what they could from the damaged tractors then jumped into the last ride to the bottom of the hill, a real four man Bobsled. The driver handed Gaylon a helmet and told him to hang on for dear life. A quick push from the guy behind Gaylon and they started down the hill. Faster and faster, the sled seemed to barely make the few turns in the road. Seeming to be totally out of control as the driver yelled as they slid sideways on one turn and then the sled shuttered into the final straightaway. Hitting the roadbed at the bottom of the hill, it shot across what used to be a four lane divided highway, clearing it without touching down. They slid to a jarring stop in a large pile of snow on the far side. Gaylon dug himself out of the snow and pulled off the helmet.

“Hot Damn! Let’s do that again!!”

“Yeah, I thought the snow was going to be needed!” the Driver explained as he was helped out of the snow. “The first time we nearly ended up in the river before we could stop. Even if it was a bitch to push the sled back up the hill. So the second time we piled up the snow first and used that to stop us, a lot safer. Man that is one hell of a ride!! We even cleared the highway that time!”

Gaylon just walked away, glad to be alive.

The smoke was visible across both sides of the river. And the white steam seem to turn to snow as it puffed out into the open air. The ship was tied up to the pier while an onboard crane moved barrels of diesel fuel and corn oil. The corn oil could be used for cooking fires, biodiesel for truck and tractors, and even food preparation. Next off came heavy sacks of corn meal, corn flour, and seed corn for next year’s planting. Part of a huge supply the Army had stockpiled at their location. There was enough to feed several thousand for more than a year into the future. They also had supplied some much needed parts for equipment and weapons including more rounds for Samuels 105mm Howitzers and the Chain guns on the APCs. Along with cases and cases of more rifle and handgun ammunition to help hold what they already had. Gaylon saw clean uniforms for Paramilitary troops and white “bunny boots” as the GI’s used to call them. They were extreme cold weather boots which had air pockets to give much needed insulation against the cold. Gaylon’s pair had been bought before the current conflict at Grander Mountain. An Outdoors supply store that had chains stores across the Midwest. Gaylon’s insulated outer pants had been East German Army surplus at the same store. He was glad to have both on this trip. Gaylon looked at his watch as he waited for Willy’s truck to appear. They should have been waiting already to load as the ship had docked. And no word had been received on the radio. Then as Gaylon looked down the road, he saw headlights and heard a roaring diesel truck engine maxed out. And behind the first truck came another and another until eight trucks shook to a stop at the pier.

“Willy, you made it! You’re late!!”

“Yeah, we were all sit to head out when we remembered the forklift! We had to get one fired up, and in this cold, that was a royal bitch and a half. So we are running a little behind. But, we are ready to move this load! So, you get your damn soldier boys out of the way and let the pros work.” Willy explained and spit on the ground near Gaylon’s boots. “We don’t cotton to no am-at-tures getting in our way. We’re Teamers!”

“Ok, Willy. Have at it. And I see you have more trucks then I asked for. What gives?” Gaylon asked.

“Don’t you worry about it. Teamers have been running blockages and strikers since before you were born. We know what we are doing. Just be ready to hop on when we’re ready to go. Because we ain’t waiting!”

Samuels caught Gaylon eye as he looked over the trucks.  Steel shutters covered all the windows with even more steel over the doors and the engine compartment. “Have you seen this?” Samuels asked as he opened the back of the first truck in line. Someone had cut a number of holes in the trailer’s steel shell and then covered them over with an outside piece of canvas. The inside was also filled with sandbags and gun mounts. Where those came from Gaylon never did find out. And a number of beer bottles had wicks stuck in them. Two small propane tanks had road flares duct taped to the side of them so they could be made into handy bombs. The second truck had the same setup in it also. Now, Gaylon understood what Willy was talking about. Running a blockade with Semi’s should work just fine. Turning, Gaylon saw Kate running up.

“Peters just radioed. They are taking fire on the hilltop and there are large numbers of men moving into the trees around them and the road. Snowmobiles are also coming out of the back roads and it looks like several hundred men are coming.” Kate said, “But the good news is we have all the people on board and the Captain says he is sorry but he has to leave now. Otherwise he could get cut off before they can clear the locks downstream.”

The paddle wheeler’s totted it’s whistle as it slowly back away from the pier. Then it slowly run .upstream a short distance to give it more turning room. Completing its turn, thick black smoke poured out of it’s smokestacks as it seem to roar passed them again, clearly the Captain wasn’t going to waste steam by going slow now. And with a final tot of its whistle the grand old lady disappeared around the bend having just completed its most important stop in its long history and taking with it the nearly 250 survivors from Austin and Redway for their new home away from the terrible battle ahead. The final pallet was loaded and the forklift was shut down. Ramps were returned to where they were stored and the men ran to the gun trucks. Gaylon got into the first one just as they were closing the steel doors. Picking a spot, he sat down to wait while loading any empty magazines he could find in his coat and pack. He also removed his sword as it would only be in the way for now. The truck shuttered as it started to move then he could feel it start to speed up. The empty gun mounts now held M-60’s or M248 SAWs (Squad Automatic Weapons). A recent delivery from the US Army along with the crews to wheel them. This was something they had not known about but, before the trip north, a call had gone out for volunteers to assist with the ship to provide for it’s security. A number had also been asked to stay behind with the Paramilitary to support them. So, two full squads, or about twenty men, now manned the guns or waited near an opening in the trailer’s steel shell. Feeling two quick dips as it crossed the highway, the truck now roared as it headed up the hill. A minute passed by, then another as Gaylon waited. Then came the first gunshots as buckshot struck the steel shell. Another blast peppered the canvas in front of Gaylon’s head but missed injuring anyone. With a blare on the truck’s horn, the canvas was cut away and light filled the trailer for the first time. The crewed M-60 roared as it opened fire. The empty casings were soon bouncing around the trailer. Gaylon sighted a target and opened fire with his M4. The .223 rounds peppering a man’s chest as the truck roared by him. More and more gun fire could be heard as they raced up the hill. Even partly empty, it could not keep up its speed as it reached higher up the steep slope. The slowing Semi-tractor-trailer seemed to encourage the attackers as more and guns were brought to bear on the truck. Sand and blood sprayed the inside of the trailer as men took hits only to have another take his place. Then the lead M-60 machinegun stopped firing so that the crew could change out the smoking red hot barrel. The gun crewman used an insulated glove to protect his hand. He threw the old barrel outside into the snow where it crackled in the cold. Too damaged to be saved. The gun then roared again as it started to heat up it’s new barrel. Men were touched by that fire and the snow turned red about them. Gaylon sighted a crewed weapon ahead of them and he quickly took one of the propane tanks and lit the flare. Giving it a toss, it cleared the trailer’s sidewall and was only ten feet away as Gaylon’s .45 opened up upon it. A blast of sound started the trailer shaking and flames tried to enter the steel shell but were too late as they moved on passed. The guns were silent for a brief second and then restarted as more and more were fired at the truck. Gaylon wondered why the truck’s tires had not yet blown out and thanked God they had not. He found out later that they had steel cores inside each one so that they could be run flat and still move. Then Gaylon felt a blow strike his left arm above the elbow. Blood sprayed out behind him as it knocked him back. He dropped his gun as he reached for the wound. A man wearing Army BDUs crawled over to Gaylon and gave his arm a quick look.

“Don’t sweat it sir. I’ll have this fixed in a second.” As he poured Quik Clot into the open wound, filled the hole with a lady’s tampon, and then placed a pressure bandage over that. “There you go, just see me later so I can change the bandages!”

Gaylon thanked the medic and picked up his rifle again. The wound pained him but he found he could still use his rifle without too much trouble. He sighted on a pirate and proved it with a quick shot to the head. The battered truck finally reached the top of the hill and Gaylon could now see the army of men against them. A number of them on snowmobiles started to race alongside the trailer firing into the open sides in the trailer or into the tires to try and make them stop. The man next to Gaylon grabbed a beer bottle, lit the rag top and pitched it at one of them. The bottle shattered against the snowmobile’s windshield and flames covered the driver and passenger as the machine flipped into the air and then crashed into a fence line. The driver’s head bounced into the air as it appeared to scream and the passenger lay dead next to the headless body. The thrower was welcome by his pitch as he exposed himself for a brief instant. But, long enough for a shooter to place a round through the side of his face and Gaylon was covered with the victim’s brains and teeth. He wiped his glove across his face to clear his eyes and returned the gift with a shot of his own as his own bullet hitting a man in the nose and blowing out the back of his head. He gifted another and another until his rifle magazine ran dry. He quickly grabbed a fresh one and rammed it home. Then picked up one of the beer bottles himself and lit the fuse. He threw it ahead of a red snowmobile as it raced up from behind them. The bottle fell onto the hot engine and exploded with pieces of glass and hot metal that tear into the driver’s face. He screamed and pitched off the sled as the flames melted the fiberglass helmet to his face and his eyes going white as they exploding out of their sockets looking like hardboiled eggs. Gaylon lost sight of the sled quickly so he missed seeing the sled driver’s eyes. But, a number of other sleds did and they moved out of range. Then the firing seemed to ease off and then stop as Gaylon’s truck pulled ahead of the shooters. The truck behind them was taking a very bad pounding but continued to move. It’s radiator smoking from a bullet that found its mark. It was fifteen miles to the Redway turnoff. Fifteen miles that hot engine had to last or doom its crew. There was no time to stop now not even for Peters and his men. They would have to fight their way free on their own. These supplies meant life for the hundreds of people in Redway. Supplies to feed them and seeds to plant in the coming spring. No one could be allowed to stop them, no one could afford to stop them. The truck’s driver, Ole Willy himself, down shifted and Gaylon took a quick peek at the road ahead. Up ahead an Austin High School Student Bus was now sitting across the road and blocking their way. Able to carry over fifty students, it was heavy and solid as a tank and was more then Willy’s Semi could possibly move. The only thing wrong was that Wiley did not believe that. Gaylon shouted for everyone to brace themselves just as the Semi’s nose struck the bus.