Bug Out! Part 3: Motorhome Madness Page 2

  “Good morning, Sheriff Brown,” Frank said, as Jane tried to quiet Lucy down.

  “Good morning, folks. Could you come down to the clubhouse with me, please? We have some things to discuss.”

  “Of course,” Frank said. “Jane, why don’t you turn on the AC so we can leave the critters in here?”

  “Will do,” she said.

  They came out of the door of the coach, and Frank locked it up. Hilda was walking towards the office with Jerry and Jasmine. Hilda stopped at Cynthia’s coach and asked her to join them.

  They all arrived at the clubhouse at the same time. Hilda unlocked the door.

  “Good morning, everybody,” she said. “I’ll get some coffee going.”

  “Have a seat,” Sheriff Brown said. He motioned over to the first table. “Don’t be nervous, folks. None of you are in trouble.”

  “The coffee will be ready in about ten minutes, for anybody that wants it,” Hilda said as she walked over. She sat down with the group.

  “Thanks for coming over,” Sheriff Brown said. “As you probably guessed, we have questions about Arthur. His death was not of natural causes. As Jerry pointed out to me last night, he was smothered with a pillow. We were able to prove that at the coroner’s lab.”

  “Horrible,” Jane said. “I was hoping it wasn’t going to be this kind of thing.”

  “Yes, we all were, Jane,” said Hilda.

  “Where’s Charlie?” asked Jerry.

  “He wasn’t there last night until Hilda told him about it, so we didn’t want to bring him in. Jerry, did you get a chance to look at the radio yet?”

  “Yes, Sheriff Brown. I can tell you without a doubt that it was disabled on purpose.”

  “How can you be sure?” he asked.

  “Somebody took the radio apart and removed two diodes. They knew exactly what they were doing.”

  The sheriff got a concerned look on his face.

  “Alright, then we know that somebody killed Arthur to take away access to the radio. Is it fixable?”

  “Already fixed,” Jerry said. “I had parts in my tool box that worked.”

  “Good. Don’t tell anybody outside of this room. Does anybody else know yet?”

  “Just my mom,” Jasmine said. “We told her this morning.”

  “She’s back at your rig?”

  “Yes. She’s old and frail, and doesn’t get around very well. I didn’t see a reason to bring her.”

  “That’s fine,” the Sheriff said. “So I’ll get to the point. We know that the Williams Militia is sending scouts up this way. We’ve caught two of them in the last 24 hours.”

  “No,” Hilda said.

  “It gets worse. Have any of you heard of the Yuma Militia?”

  “Jane and I just watched a story on them before you came to our coach,” Frank said. “They’re working their way north along the Colorado River, according to the reports. They said it would be bad if the Yuma Militia and the Williams Militia linked up.”

  “The Yuma Militia and the Williams Militia are one in the same,” Sheriff Brown said. “They’re split up right now, but are attempting to link back up. We are trying to trap them in the same place if possible. We want them to link up. The media is saying that the Army is completely tied up fighting Islamists in Eastern Arizona. That is only partially true. The militia is more dangerous than the remaining Islamists. The Army is close by, and they plan to set a trap.”

  “They aren’t going to use us for bait, I hope,” Jane said.

  “No, that isn’t their plan. But they don’t want any of you to leave here just yet. They don’t want to spook the militia.”

  “How much danger are we in?” asked Frank.

  “I won’t lie to you. There is some danger. For some reason the militia was interested enough in this group to put a mole among you. That’s who we think killed Arthur.”

  “Any idea who that is?” Jerry asked.

  “I’m hoping you folks can help us with that, Jerry.”

  The crack of a gunshot punctuated the air from the back of the park. First one, then another. Then two more.

  “Everybody stay here!” Sheriff Brown yelled. He slipped out the door.

  Chapter 2 – Unlikely Partners

  There were two more shots after Sheriff Brown ran out the door of the clubhouse. Jerry jumped off of his seat and ran to the window.

  “Jerry, don’t go by the window,” shouted Jasmine. He got down and peered over the window sill. Frank started to get up. Jane shook her head no. Cynthia and Hilda were both sitting, looking at the open door, afraid to move a muscle.

  After a few minutes, the Sheriff came trotting back in, breathing hard.

  “Hilda, did you guys post somebody in one of Jer’s old deer blinds?”

  “We were going to start doing that. Even have a schedule in the works, but we didn’t start it last night,” she said.

  “Jeb,” Jane said. “Remember, he wanted to hang out up there and have a couple of drinks?”

  The Sheriff gave her a quizzical look, and then got a smile on his face.

  “Wait a minute, is Jer’s stuff still up in that main blind?”

  Frank laughed. Then Charlie came running in.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded. Then he saw the Sheriff and the rest of the group. “Hilda, are you having a meeting without me?” He had a hurt look on his face.

  “No, sweetie,” she said. “Sheriff Brown asked to talk to the people who were at Arthur’s coach last night. You weren’t there until after I told you about it.”

  Charlie nodded, but he still looked a little hurt, and a little suspicious.

  Jasmine’s phone started to ring, and she answered it. She listened, and then took the phone away from her ears.

  “It’s mom,” she said. “Jeb is calling for help. She didn’t think we would hear it up here.”

  “Let’s go,” Frank said. “I’m stopping by the coach to get my gun.” Jane nodded, looking worried.

  “I’m with you, Frank,” Jerry said. They ran out the door, followed by the Sheriff.

  “Slow down, guys!” Sheriff Brown yelled.

  “Our friend is out there,” Jerry yelled back. He ducked into his rig and came out with his M-1 Carbine.

  Frank got to the coach, and Lucy was going nuts. He opened the door and she ran out, looking warily around. Frank grabbed the pistol, put it in the holster in a hurry, and belted up, and then grabbed his Winchester. He slipped the leash on Lucy and brought her too, then got out and met up with Jerry and the Sheriff.

  “You brought the dog?” asked Jerry.

  “My eyes and ears,” Frank said, then he looked towards the blind and shouted. “Jeb, where are you?”

  “Up in the blind, shot in the leg. I think I got all of them, but I’m not sure. Be careful. Bring a dog if you have one.”

  Frank laughed nervously.

  “Oh, I’ve got a hell of a police dog,” he shouted, and he bent down and took the leash off of Lucy, hooking it on the fence next to the gate. “Stay close, girl.”

  “Why did you take the leash off?” Jerry asked.

  “The Winchester takes two hands,” he replied.

  The Sheriff crouched down. He had his service revolver in his hand.

  “A little less chatter, you guys, there may be more of them out there.”

  Frank nodded.

  “Should have grabbed the shotgun,” Jerry whispered.

  “You guys left too quick for that,” he said.

  “Watch out,” Jeb yelled. Then there were several shots. One of them hit a tree next to Jerry. All three of the men hit the dirt. Lucy looked towards where the gunfire came from. It was like she was pointing. Frank saw where she was looking, and then got a bead on the spot with the Winchester. It was a bush next to a tree. He saw a slight movement.

  “Got ya!” Frank said, and he pulled the trigger. A loud blast came from his Winchester. He saw a man fall. He worked the lever on the rifle to reload.

  “Nice shooting
,” Jeb shouted.

  “You can thank my dog. She pointed him out,” Frank yelled.

  “You’re fighting modern weapons with that relic? Geez.” the Sheriff said.

  “Got the job done,” Frank said. “Holds ten rounds, too.”

  “See any more?” shouted Jerry.

  “No, but I’ll keep my eyes open,” Jeb said. “Come on forward.”

  The three men and Lucy walked slowly forward, scanning the landscape. They were almost to the blind when Lucy growled and looked again. The three men dropped to the ground. Frank and Jerry both looked at where Lucy was pointing.

  “Got him,” Jerry said, aiming the M-1 Carbine. He fired four times. The person got up and started running. “Damn .30 Carbine.”

  “I got him,” Frank said, and then there was the blast of the .44 Mag Winchester. The running man flew about four feet and then hit the ground. Frank worked the lever to get another round into the chamber.

  “What the hell are you shooting?” asked Jeb.

  “Winchester Model 94 in .44 Mag,” Frank shouted.

  “I got to get me one of those,” Jeb said.

  They got to the tree that the blind was in.

  “Can you climb down, Jeb?” asked the Sheriff.

  “I’d rather stay up here. There’s still booze left.” He cracked up.

  “Well, you guys are cool under fire, I’ll give you that,” the Sheriff said. “Seriously, do I need to get the fire department over here?”

  “I got shot in the thigh, but got a tourniquet on. I haven’t lost much blood. I can probably hobble down with my arms and my good leg. I didn’t want to do it without somebody to cover for me, though.”

  “You have a rifle up there?” asked the Sheriff?”

  “Yeah, my .270 Remington. I’m out of rounds, though. Didn’t expect action this morning. I’ll leave it up here, and maybe one of you guys can go up and get if for me after I’m down.”

  “OK, Jeb, why don’t you start down,” Frank said. “I’ll keep watch with my police dog here.”

  “Hey, this is interesting,” Jerry said, standing over by the bush where the first dead person was. “We have three dead Islamist fighters, and three guys that look like militia folks to me.”

  “What?” asked the Sheriff.

  “Hey, get me down first, then you can investigate,” Jeb said. He was already about half way down the ladder.

  “Don’t worry, we’re watching,” Frank said. “Keep on coming.”

  “Finally,” Jeb said as he put his good foot on the ground. “I’ll need some crutches for a while, I suspect.”

  “You need a doctor,” the Sheriff said. “I’ll call for an ambulance.

  “You might want to inform the Army that the militia and the Islamists are working together,” Jerry said.

  “Alright, let’s go back to the park,” the Sheriff said. “I’ll radio for help.”

  “Somebody should hang out in the blind and keep watch,” Jerry said.

  “I’ll do it,” Frank said. “I’ve got a lot of ammo on my belt. And we know this sucker has some stopping power.”

  “True that,” Jeb said. “How is that thing to shoot?”

  “Kicks like a mule. It’s shorter and lighter than the 30-30 model.”

  “I’ll get up there and bring down your .270,” Jerry said. He quickly climbed up the ladder and came down with it. “Maybe it will make a temporary crutch.”

  “Well, at least a cane,” Jeb said, grabbing it from Jerry. “Dang, the barrel is still hot.”

  Frank climbed up the ladder and set his Winchester up there, as Lucy looked up at him and cried. Then he came back down, scooped her up, and carried her up to the blind.

  “I’ll keep an eye out until you get help here,” Frank said. “Don’t let Jane come out here after me.”

  “I’ll try,” Jerry laughed. “You know how these women are.”

  “That I do,” Frank agreed. “Wonder if it’s too early for a drink?”

  The Sheriff shook his head as he was helping Jeb back to the gate. Jerry hurried to catch up to them.

  As soon as they got into the gate, the Sheriff pulled out his cellphone and called Hilda.

  “Hilda? Jack here.”

  “What happed back there?” she asked. She sounded scared.

  “Tell everybody that our folks all survived,” he said, “but Jeb got shot in the leg. Do you have any crutches or a walker or a wheel chair?”

  “No walkers,” Jeb said.

  The Sheriff and Jerry chuckled.

  “I heard that,” Hilda said. “Tell that old reprobate that he’ll take what I give him and like it.”

  “I don’t think I want to tell him that, Hilda.” He laughed.

  “Alright, I do have a set of crutches, which were Jer’s from when he broke his hip. I’ll grab them and meet you guys.”

  “Thanks, Hilda,” he said. He put the phone back in his pocket.

  In the clubhouse, everybody was still afraid to move. Hilda looked at the women sitting at the table.

  “What’s going on?” Jane asked.

  “Everybody is alive, but Jeb’s hit in the leg. I need to get some crutches out to him.” She went into her house, which was in back of the clubhouse, and took the crutches out of the hall closet. Then she went out with them to meet the men. She watched Jeb trying to use his rifle as a cane and shook her head.

  “I hope that gun isn’t loaded, the way you are using it,” she said.

  “Oh, it’s empty alright. The bullets are stuck in some bad guys back there,” he said with a grin. He took the crutches and got them under his arms, and then shifted to one side so he could get his rifle on his back with the sling.

  They were just about to the veranda on the clubhouse. The Sheriff went off towards his car and got on the radio. He made several calls, and joined the others inside.

  “Alright, the doctor’s on his way. I also got the Army sending somebody, so we can discuss what happened back there.”

  “Good,” Jerry said. He sat down next to Jasmine, and she slid close and hugged him.

  “Where’s Frank?” Jane asked.

  “He is in the blind, keeping an eye out until the cavalry shows up,” Jeb said.

  “You left him out there alone?” Jane cried.

  “No, he’s not alone,” Jerry said. “He’s got Lucy with him, and that .44 mag lever gun. He’ll be good for a few minutes.”

  “By the way, you’ve got one hell of a dog there,” Jeb said. Jerry nodded in agreement.

  “What do you mean?” Jane asked, still visibly upset.

  “That damn dog saw the last two bad guys and pointed to them. We just had to look where she was looking.”

  “I’m not happy about him being there alone,” she said.

  “Ah, he’s pretty safe up there,” Jeb said. “The walls are thick enough to stop bullets.”

  Jane snorted. “You got hit.”

  “My own fault. I wasn’t expecting company, so I had the door open. They got me with the first shot. Killed four of them after that.”

  “Who’s them?” asked Hilda.

  “Three Islamist fighters, and three militia men,” Jerry said.

  “What!” Jane said. “Jeez, nobody has any good info around here. Were they working together or fighting each other?”

  “Working together, definitely,” Jeb said. “The person who shot me was a militia guy. He’s also the first one I shot. Traitor.”

  “So the Army has the situation all wrong?” asked Jasmine. “That’s not very encouraging.”

  “You’re telling me,” Jane said.

  A siren sound floated in from the distance, getting closer and closer. Then the fire department emergency vehicle pulled up in front of the clubhouse, and two paramedics piled out.

  “Where’s the doc?” the Sheriff asked.

  “Right behind us,” the first paramedic said.

  They heard another car pull up, and the door open and close. The doctor came running into the clubhouse w
ith his black bag.

  “Where is he?” asked the doctor.

  “I’m right here, Doc,” Jeb said.

  “Jeb, I didn’t know it was you.”

  “Yep, it’s me, George. Be gentle.”

  “You’ll probably heal up on your own, you old bushwhacker,” the doctor said as he approached. “Let’s take a look. Lay down on that table.”

  Jeb hoisted himself up. The doctor came alongside him and put his black bag down on the bench next to the table. He opened it up and pulled out some scissors.

  “No, you aren’t going to cut my pants, are you? Can’t I just take them off?”

  The doctor looked at him and laughed, and then started cutting. After he got the pant leg out of the way, he untied the tourniquet. He got closer, and then pulled out a small LED flashlight and shined it on the wound.

  “This is only a flesh wound…..the bullet went clean through. You’re lucky, though. Another inch this way and it would have nicked the artery. I’d say you got shot by a military round. No expansion that I can see.”

  “Good,” the Sheriff said.

  “I’ll let the paramedics clean this up and bandage it for you,” the doctor said. He looked over at them. “Hey, guys, use plenty of iodine. Let’s make it sting.” He laughed, and the paramedics cracked up too.

  “That’s not nice, Doc,” Jeb said.

  “Any of the enemy need attention?” asked the doctor.

  “You know, doc, that’s a good question,” the Sheriff said. “I assumed that they were all dead, but some of them may just be unconscious.”

  “The ones with half their brains hanging out are probably dead,” Jerry observed drily. “Looked kind of like .270 to me.”

  “Damn straight, baby,” Jeb said.

  “You were using that old Remington bolt action of yours against these guys?” asked the doctor. “You’re pretty brave.”

  “It’s not how fast you shoot, it’s how well you shoot,” Jeb said. “Owwwwwww! Watch it with that stuff.”

  “Make sure you get plenty of that iodine in there, boys,” the doctor said with a grin.

  “Are there any who aren’t obviously dead?” asked the doctor.

  “Well, the one that Frank shot got it in the torso, but that was a .44 mag hunting round, copper on lead, so he’s probably a mess inside. Big slow moving bullet. He only got hit once, though. The other one got hit at least twice with .30 Carbine but got up and ran, and Frank finished him off with a chest shot from the .44 mag. I doubt if either of them are alive, but it might be worth checking.”