Read Event Horizon Online

Authors: Steven Konkoly

Event Horizon (27 page)

Tactically, the regular arm of the Maine Liberty Militia was a mess, better suited for basic military maneuvers, checkpoint duty and static defense. If he had known how bad they’d look after trudging for thirty minutes, he might have considered a different set of tactics. Too late now.

Without the distractions of modern-day life, things would change at the training compound. He’d put the few remaining members of Jimmy’s old unit to work squaring them away. One way or the other, he’d whip this crew into a reasonable fighting force, if they didn’t kill each other this morning. He gave the hand signal to move out again, guiding the column forward on an old game trail.

 

Chapter 34

EVENT +75:15

Limerick, Maine

Alex flipped the light switch, darkening the barn before stepping into the glaring sun. The impeccable blue sky held no clouds to shield the blistering orb peering above the eastern tree line. The house usually gave up the fight around noon, reaching intolerable levels of heat and humidity by two. The late afternoon was a complete loss, as the house absorbed everything the sun had to offer and radiated the misery inward. The pond served as their only possible refuge at that point. With the militia threat looming on the horizon, he didn’t foresee frolicking in the water. He almost wished for rain.

“Alex, we have movement along the northern perimeter, near the pond,”
said Linda’s voice from the radio.

Alex locked the door from the inside and closed it. “Right along the pond?” he said, testing the door.

“Close enough. Something triggered the sensor facing inland from the waterline.”

“I’ll take a look. Get everyone in their positions. Someone needs to keep an eye on the sensors, in case we have another group out there,” said Alex, heading toward the front of the barn.

“Let’s just hope it was a deer,”
she said.

Alex jogged along the red siding and reached the far front corner, taking a knee. He dug into one of his tactical vest pockets and removed the handheld radio’s earpiece, plugging it into the radio. Hollow static echoed through the earpiece as he leaned a few inches beyond the corner and peered through the ACOG scope. Bright green from direct sunlight, the trees and bushes along the edge of the clearing formed a dense screen. He’d have to get into the woods.

“Linda, I’m heading into the forest to take a closer look. I can’t see anything from here. I’ll be right back,” said Alex.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
asked Tim over the line.

Alex had forgotten that everyone was on the primary tactical frequency.

“Just a quick peek to give us something to work with. I’ll be back in less than two minutes. Out.”

End of discussion.

Alex crouched and sprinted toward the northwest corner of the clearing, cursing the entire two hundred feet. He’d taken a questionable risk running across flat, exposed ground, gambling on the enemy force’s concentration in one location. If others had slipped the sensor net and taken positions closer to the clearing, his darting figure would have attracted immediate, lethal attention. Maybe they were waiting until he stopped. He hit the ground next to a thick raspberry bush and crawled through a low opening in the thorny mess. Lush raspberry bushes ringed the edges of the clearing, where they thrived in the sun. They also formed a low-budget barbed-wire fence along the closest points of approach to the house. Anyone sprinting out of the forest was in for a nasty surprise.

Squirming onto the soft pine-covered forest floor, he pressed forward several feet and rested behind a thick spruce. Alex listened for a few moments, hearing a snap in the distance, followed immediately by another. Unless the clumsiest, bumble-footed buck in all of southern Maine had just wandered onto his property, they had uninvited guests. Alex eased his head around the tree, taking in the scene. At first glance, the forest looked like it always did—a shadowy, multihued canvas of greens and browns, dominated by tall vertical lines and random thickets. Organically alive, but typically motionless on a macro scale. A few more seconds of observation explained the sensor hit. Darkened figures moved in a line, spaced at least ten feet apart, due east.

He brought the rifle to his shoulder and examined the lead man in the column. MultiCam-patterned uniform, tactical vest—no body armor, same boonie cap worn by the militia at the bridge, AR rifle with unmagnified optics.

Definitely not Bambi.

Their trajectory through the forest puzzled him. They couldn’t be more than two hundred feet from the clearing, which meant they’d have seen the barn through the trees. The best approach to the house was from behind the barn, pretty much taking the same path he had travelled to arrive in the forest. The barn put them less than fifty feet from the house. A charge from the tree line directly behind the house forced them to cross triple that distance, while navigating a fenced vegetable garden.

What am I missing?

A quick scan through the line of militia soldiers showed them all moving in the same direction. Parallel to the tree line. The last man in the line didn’t appear to be moving. Alex peered through the 4X scope, centering the red arrow on the man’s chest.

“Shit,” he muttered, slowly retracting his head and rifle behind the knotted trunk.

It hadn’t been the last guy. He’d found himself staring at the point man for a second squad moving in his direction. The militia deployment made more sense now. One squad could take advantage of the blind spot created by the barn, while the other provided suppressing fire from the trees beyond the backyard. He started to low-crawl back to the edge of the forest, but stopped. Did it make sense to punch a few holes in the squad headed toward him and make a run for the barn? The thought was tempting, but he preferred not to attract the combined effort of two dozen rifles to his return trip across the clearing. The suppressor might keep his position concealed long enough to make it through the raspberry bushes, but he’d be fair game after that.

He wiggled under the thorns and turned left, lying along the edge of the grass and surveying the land behind the house and barn. It was clear.

“Alex,”
said Kate through his earpiece,
“we have a second group approaching from the east. Sensors picked them up about a hundred feet from the driveway, which puts them about even with the house.”

“Roger. I have two separate squads inbound from the north. One looks like it will line up along the trees behind the house. The other will probably use the barn to get as close to the house as possible. I want everyone with optics scanning the northern tree line for their positions. We’ll give them a full magazine welcome to make them think twice. Everyone who can shoot needs to be in on this. Once the initial salvo is finished, everyone goes back to their assigned positions. If they can safely aim and shoot a weapon, they need to be doing that. We’ll only get one shot at making a strong impression. I’m heading back, so don’t shoot me. Have someone open the front door.”

“Got it,”
she said.

He gripped the rifle’s hand guard and took off in a crouch, half-expecting to hear the supersonic snap of incoming bullets. Careening past the corner of the barn, he didn’t ease up on his legs until he reached the front of the house, where he slowed to a jog and struggled for breath. No matter how many miles he put into running, sprinting three hundred feet remained a thoroughly unpleasant experience. Fighting waves of nausea, he took the stairs on the porch in a single leap, pulling himself up by the railing. The front door swung inward, and Kate, who looked all business, took his hand and pulled him inside.

“Are you sure you want the kids involved?” said Kate.

“Yes,” he insisted.

“Then you need to provide some hands-on guidance.”

“Is Ryan upstairs?” he said, running through the foyer hallway.

“Charlie and Linda took him up,” said Kate.

Alex surveyed the kitchen and great room area, not pleased by what he saw.

“Samantha, just for now, get everyone behind the safe box, not in it. When I give the signal, Daniel and Chloe will move next to their father by the sliding door and you’ll stand behind the sink. At some point, very soon after that, I’ll order everyone to start firing. I want you to empty the shotgun at the far right corner of the garage. Try to hit it as many times as possible.”

“You want me to shoot the barn?”

“Yes. Tear the corner to pieces. I want the kids to shoot six rounds each into the forest, wherever their father is shooting, followed by the rest of their magazines at the barn. Got it guys?” he said, staring down Chloe and Daniel until they nodded.

“Sam, when you and the kids have emptied your weapons, get inside the safe box and reload. You should be safe behind the sandbags before they fire back. The rest of you will rapidly shoot half of your rifle magazine at visible targets in the trees, the other half at the corner. Targets of opportunity after that,” he said, running to his father in the great room.

“Dad, I want you to focus on both sides of the barn and anything to the left. Use both of the firing positions in the great room. I expect them to send a guy to the left corner to fire into the house. Concentrate on putting that target out of action, even if you have to slow down your rate of fire and take well-aimed shots. Yell out if you need backup.”

His next stop was Ed, who kneeled behind a wide sandbag wall built five feet back from the open side of the deck slider.

“You good with the AR?” said Alex.

“I prefer the Ruger, but I think we’ll need the extra punch for this one.”

“If it jams, switch to the Ruger and yell for me. I’ll put the AR back into action. Here’s what I need you to do. After the first full magazine salvo, reload and cover the right corner of the barn, along with anything you can identify in the tree line behind the house. Take three quick shots at each target, reacquire or find a new target and repeat. If men push forward from the barn, yell out a warning and focus your fire on them until they are no longer moving toward the house. Their most likely breach point is this sliding door. If it gets too crazy behind your sandbag position, fall back to the safe box,” he said, slapping Ed on the shoulder. “Easy enough?”

“Easy enough.”

“Kate, you’ll start out in the bathroom. After the first mag, you focus on the tree line. If the eastern group makes a dash for the garage, you relocate to the sitting room. You’ll have a clean line of sight down the front of the garage, which is their fastest way into the house. Cover that approach until Linda and Charlie get downstairs. Check?”

“Check,” she said and jogged toward the mudroom.

“I’ll be back down in a few moments. Pass anything you see over the radio.” He opened the door to the basement and came face to face with his mother holding a 20-gauge shotgun.

“Mom, I need—”

“The kids stay down here. You have too many moving parts up there as it is. A few shaky pistols isn’t going to make or break the day,” she said.

“I love you, Mom. Keep the door locked and watch the bulkhead. Tell Emily I love her,” he said, heading upstairs.

At the top of the staircase, he turned left and walked into their bedroom. Ryan sat on a folding chair, pressing his rifle’s vertical fore grip against the top row of sandbags, scanning the tree line through the 4X ACOG scope. The Enhanced Combat Helmet issued to Alex by the marines protected his head. Over his clothes, he wore a loose-fitting tactical vest jammed with rifle magazines. Several magazines lay flat on top of the sandbag wall, ready for immediate use. More sat stacked on the floor beside the chair. With twenty magazines at his disposal, Ryan would fire the Marine Corps issued HK416A5, providing their only source of automatic gunfire. The weapon was essentially the same as the M27 Infantry Assault Rifle used by the Marine Corp as a squad support weapon, without the bipod and higher capacity magazines.

“You all right?”

“Ready for action,” Ryan said, knocking on the helmet.

Alex kneeled next to the chair, putting a hand on Ryan’s shoulder.

“You’re the closest thing we have to an infantry support rifleman. I want you to burn through mags as quickly and accurately as you can. Short, controlled bursts. Spread the love around. You’ll draw a lot of attention doing this, so keep your head as low as possible. If you see men coming from the barn, you engage that group until they stop. We can’t let them get into the house. I love you, buddy,” he said, letting go of his son.

“Love you too, Dad.”

“Call out anything you see on the radio,” he said.

“Got it.”

“If the volume of incoming fire makes it impossible to engage targets without getting hit, you’re done. You call it in and stay out of sight.”

“How will I know when it gets to that point?”

“You’ll know, and so will your mother. No heroics,” he said, patting Ryan on the shoulder.

Alex hovered at the door, afraid to leave. When the shooting started, his son would attract hundreds of bullets. They’d reinforced the position with leftover sandbags, extending the sides to protect against shallow-angled fire and adding an additional layer facing the front. An extra piece of sheet metal had been brought up early this morning and wedged against the right side of the fortification to slow down projectiles heading into the side extension. This had been the only modification to Kate and Linda’s work that Alex had directed.

Alex had initially considered taking this position, since it offered the best view of the exterior situation, but the rest of the adults quickly talked him out of it. They needed him to remain mobile, constantly assessing their defenses. Much to Kate’s dismay, Ryan was the next best candidate for the key position. He didn’t like placing his son here either, but Ryan could fire accurately at a sustained rate, which was exactly what they needed overlooking both the barn and backyard. When explaining this to Kate, he left out the part about their son becoming the primary target on the battlefield. He took one more look at his son and sped down the hallway toward the master bedroom.

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