Glen Tate: 299 Days: The Stronghold

“Them damned tweakers,” the second man said. “It’s that damned Richardson house,” he said. “All those low lifes.” The crowd started buzzing.

Rich wasn’t about to go arrest people on this little evidence. He didn’t want a mob to go after them either. He needed more proof.

“How do you know it’s the Richardson house people?” Rich asked.

“I saw one of them,” the third man said. “I saw one of them, a young guy, running out of my yard. I’ve seen him before at the tweaker house. He’s been hanging out there for the past couple weeks.”

“Are you sure?” Grant asked. He didn’t want the vigilante stuff, either. And, as the judge, it was Grant’s job to make sure innocent people weren’t convicted.

“Positive,” the third man said. “He had the same black hoodie sweatshirt on I’d seen him in before at the Richardson house when he was out in the yard when I drove by. He looked like trouble. He was a new guy out there. I’m positive.”

Normally Rich would do a lot more investigating before settling on a suspect. No need to turn over every rock on this one. Rich knew the Richardsons and instantly knew they did this.

Rich pointed to the crime victims and said, “We’ll talk after the meeting. We’ll get the constables together and go get your stuff back.”

The “constables,” of course, were the Team. Rich wanted to show that the self-government at Pierce Point would be handling things. He didn’t want a mob to form and go after the tweakers, but he wanted to show the crowd that the self-governing Pierce Point community would do something about it. Rich looked over at Grant and Grant looked at the Team. They gave the thumbs-up sign. Looks like they’d be going out to the Richardson place right after the meeting.

Ryan was worried that the tweakers would get word of an impending raid. So he said to the crowd, “No one here talks to the tweakers. If they get tipped off about this and one of us dies, you will be an accessory to murder.” The room was silent. The seriousness of this was sinking in.

In the past, before the Collapse, people would just call 911 and let the police take care of this. But now there were no police. They people in the Grange hall were their own police. They had to do this themselves. The upside was that someone would actually do something about this instead of just taking a police report.

“Next time,” Rich said to the crime victims, “please come to us privately with these reports. We can’t have everyone knowing where we’re about to hit.”

“Oh, sorry,” the third man said. He hadn’t thought about that. He was just answering Rich’s question about whether there was anything else that needed to be dealt with

Rich didn’t want the guy feeling bad or worried that the situation was out of control. So he said, “No problem. We’ll handle this after the meeting. This is what the constables do. It’s no big deal.” Actually, it was. Rich and the Team knew it.

It was a big deal because tweakers were not like other people, Grant thought. The good news was that they would probably be so high and sleep deprived that they couldn’t be too effective with weapons. The bad news was that the meth made them extremely aggressive and fearless. Absolutely fearless. And, at some level, wanting to die. That made them formidable opponents.

Lisa looked at Grant and mouthed to him, “Don’t go.”

Oh, great. His wife didn’t want him to go do his job. Not this again. Not this “stay at home like everything is normal,” crap again. He didn’t need this right now.

The meeting broke up and the crime victims came up to Rich and the Team. Dan sat in on the conversation, too. Some volunteers also came up. “What can we do to help?” one of the volunteers asked. This was the most excitement that there had been in days out at Pierce Point.

“Get out there right away,” Dan said to the volunteers, “and make sure no one goes in or out of the area by the house. But do it discreetly. Don’t get within earshot of the place. For all we know, someone here called them and tipped them off. No one goes in or out of the area.”

The volunteers nodded and took off.

Rich and the others came up with a hasty plan to go out—right then—to the Richardson house and “drop in” as they put it. It was still light out, so this was not the optimal time to do this. But, they didn’t want the tweakers to have any extra time to prepare. It had to be done right now.

The Team had their full kit with them. Pow tapped the bulletproof plates in his vest and smiled. “This is what they’re for,” he said. That conveyed a sense of the seriousness of the situation.

The crime victims drew a quick map of the tweaker house. The group decided which way the tweakers would probably try to escape. They tried to find out how many were in there. Were there any kids? People had seen some there, but it was hard to say. People came and went to that place.

When the plan was laid out, Rich said, “OK, a quick plan is better than no plan. Everyone ready?” The Team nodded.

They had never actually done this. No one had actually ever shot back at them. They’d been ready to shoot people like at the stopped car during the bug out to Pierce Point and when they went up to Gideon’s truck outside the gate. But they never had.

It was weird. They weren’t scared. They were excited to finally do what they’d trained for. They were just going to do a job. Well, actually they were a little scared. But none of them could imagine saying, “I’m sitting this one out.”

Grant looked over at Lisa. She had been listening to the planning. She once again mouthed “Don’t go” to Grant. She wasn’t pissed now. She was scared. She was terrified he would get killed. Grant grabbed his gear and walked by her to get into the truck. He had a job to do.

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Copyright © 2012 by Glen Tate

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Prepper Press Trade Paperback Edition: November 2012

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