Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

“You know I won’t waste ammo, Mac. I’ll make every shot count. It’ll be like shootin’ fish in a barrel.”

“A lotta fish in a small barrel, Surf Boy,” interrupted BB, as he approached from the guardrail after studying the ravine below.

“Are you gonna help out with the shootin’ or are you gonna make me do all the work as usual?” asked Marty.

“Piss off, Surf Boy. I make all mine count.”

“Hmm,” said Marty. He smiled.

“Okay, guys, that’s enough. BB, you’re with Marty. Both of you, make ’em count.”

“You got it, Mac,” said BB.

“Roger, Jason, and Jude will be behind this guard rail—it’ll give them a downward angle on anyone who makes it through your initial fire. They have sufficient ammo for at least the first twenty or thirty minutes of any initial engagement. Me, Daubney, and Edgars will take position off that line of trees. Top?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Mickey. He jogged over from conversing with John McLeod. The serious intensity on his face made it clear he was fully charged and ready to engage the enemy. John McLeod followed behind him, recognizing that the time for action was fast approaching.

“I want you to travel with McLeod, Rhonda, and the kids. Take Rice with you, too, for back cover.”

“Sir?” he questioned. There was frustration in his look—he clearly wanted to be part of the team that would kick Phoenix’s ass.

“I know, Top. I know you want to be here, in the thick of it all, but I need you to deliver that precious cargo into that garrison. Jackson and… Burroughs will be going along with you.”

“Um… yes, sir.”

“I know you don’t like it, Top, but I need you and McLeod to convince whoever’s there that we could use their help. You lend solid credibility to the situation, no offense John.”

“None taken.”

“Top, you’ll help John convince the powers that be that we could use their help. Understood? It’s critical to our success. Let ’em know who I am—they’ll know I’m a good friend of Mark Harmon’s. Some others around might know me I hope. Say my name, say Connor Mac, again and again to get their attention. If nothing else, convince them to send some ammo, at least, if they can spare it.”

“Yes, sir, of course.”

“Top, you look like you just swallowed a bottle of Drano! Focus, man—this is mission-critical! Don’t worry about us. Worry about reaching that garrison as quickly as you can.”

“I understand, sir.”

“I hope to see your sorry ass back here in less than thirty minutes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Move it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“John?”

John McLeod edged closer with Rhonda by his side.

“Yeah, Mac?”

“I want you and Rhonda to take Cody, Renaldo, and Gabby to the Summit. Top will be your escort so you can concentrate on speed, not defense. Rice will run back cover. It’s my guess there’s a tollgate and garrison there. I’d almost guarantee it, but if it turns out there’s no garrison, keep hauling ass on Route 40 east until you reach Nemacolin. It’s about seven miles from the Summit on the left side of the road. I’m hoping you’ll find Mark Harmon there. The downside is I can only spare a horse for Jackson and one for Burroughs. Gabby can ride sittin’ behind Jackson. Rhonda, you can double up and carry Burrough’s body.”

“Okay, Mac,” she said.

“I know you can run, Rhonda, but you might have some trouble getting up that hill. Besides… you’ll need to keep Burrough’s body secure in the saddle.”

“I’ll do it, Mac.”

“Good.”

“Those two boys can run pretty well—don’t worry about them too much unless they fall too far behind. I know you can run too John, but I want you to keep up with Mickey. That won’t be easy, but give it a try.”

“Yeah, Mac, he’s like a machine.”

“He’s combat-hardened, John. He and Rice will keep you guys safe if conditions up there at the Summit go sideways.”

“Okay, Mac. I’ll keep up.”

“I know. I’d give you another couple horses, but I need them for our mobility against the front line of Phoenix’s army. The garrison commander is your objective, let ’em know our situation, and convince ’em to help us out. John, I’m counting on you to convince them. Mickey will keep you safe, but you’ll be our negotiator.”

“I understand, Mac,” said McLeod. “You know I’ll fight like hell for you guys.”

“Thanks, man,” said Connor appreciatively. He noticed Rhonda’s look of concern. “Don’t worry, Rhonda. This is gonna work out fine.” He caught the eyes of Cody and Renaldo. “You two, over here!”

The boys ran toward him and stood next to Rhonda. Gabby followed and stood behind them.

“You guys stay sharp and listen to what the major and Top tell you. Ya hear?” They nodded solemnly. “I’m not kidding around, boys,” said Connor. “You’re part of this military engagement and its success counts on you. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” said Cody.

“Yes, Mr. Mac,” said Renaldo, feeling a flood of emotion toward the colonel.

“You guys need to keep your eyes and ears open at all times and let the major or Top know what you hear and see—understood?”

Both boys nodded.

“Okay,” said Connor, nodding for emphasis. “Renaldo, Gabby’s gonna ride the horse up the mountain with Jackson, okay?”

“Yeah—I mean yes, sir.”

“Good. Stick close to her.”

“Yes, Mr. Mac. I always do.”

“Gabby, have Miss Rhonda help you into the saddle, okay?

“Okay.”

“Mr. Jackson’s hurt bad, so you help keep an eye on Mr. Jackson holding the horse reins. Can you do that?”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

Connor refocused on the boys. “It’s time to move. The shit’s gonna hit the fan and I want you well on your way before it does. Remember to keep sharp.”

“Yes, sir… I will,” said Cody.

“Yes, Mr. Mac, I will.”

“We’re coming right behind you, Renaldo, but at a slower pace. We plan to make a strategic retreat, and while we do that, we’ll kill as many of those… Motherfu… enemy as we can.”

“Mr. Mac… kill Phoenix. I don’t like him being alive.”

“Renaldo, I know what you mean—he’s sharing my air and he don’t deserve it. Believe me, kid—it would give me great pleasure to end his life. If I get the opportunity, you can consider him dead.”

Renaldo held Connor’s gaze and nodded once. “Go,” said Connor.

“Yes, Mr. Mac.”

Connor turned to the major. “Move out, John,” he said softly.

“On my way, Mac.” With a nod, John waved to Mickey and they started a slow trot, trying to keep up with the horses, but unable to after fifty feet.

“Rice, c’mere.”

“Sir.”

“Top fill you in?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want nothing on their ass up that mountain, understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Go.”

Rice ran after the team heading up the hill, but turned frequently to face downhill.

Rhonda slowed her horse to match the pace of John and Mickey. Gabby’s horse slowed to match the pace of Rhonda’s. The two boys easily kept stride with Mickey and John.

Connor tracked their progress. Nothing more could be implemented to assure their safety. Reluctantly, he turned back to the task at hand— a massive hoard of malicious deviants led by a psychopath was fast coming up the mountain highway. Connor didn’t care—the kids were gone and the only ones left in his group were seasoned veterans.

He smiled and there was a glint in his eye. This was gonna be fun.

“I want those mother fuckers now,” said Phoenix. His voice was soft and quiet. Larry Reed would have been less concerned had Phoenix screamed this at the top of his lungs, but he said it with a faraway maniacal gleam in his eyes. Phoenix tracked the plume of roiling black smoke rise into the haze less than one hundred yards ahead. “Take me up there,” he growled to Larry. A few seconds brought them close enough to hear sounds of panic from his men and smell the charred flesh of the unlucky members of his army. Quickly, Phoenix exited the truck and walked briskly toward the chaos.