Downfall

Copyright © 2011 - 2021- This is an original work by Zeb Carter and is protected under copyright by U.S. copyright law. It is only submitted at Literotica.Com and any submission to any other site has not been authorized by the Author.

Author's Note: There is no sex in this short store I wrote back in 2011. I took a second look and felt it might be appropriate now. You might catch some errors in it. I originally wrote it in first person present tense, for the most part. I thought it might flow better in first person past. So, if I missed and present tense stuff, blame me and if you tell me to get an editor, you comment will be deleted. Unless you are volunteering? Didn't think so.

Sliding down the embankment, the supersonic crack of bullets whizzing past my head, I started to wonder how long I had to live. Towards the bottom, I slammed into a rock as big as a house, which brought me up short of the gully bottom. With my breath knocked out of me, I scrambled around the rock to get out of the line of fire. Sitting for a moment to catch my breath, I listened, trying to hear past the thunderous beat of my heart, for anyone coming down after me.

Distant yells from different voices and I knew where the enemies were. Finally able to breathe I slowly looked over the rock. There were five that I could see, one officer and four grunts. Turning to my left, I scrambled over to a slightly smaller bolder and peeked over the top, yep, five of them. Looking at my rifle, I shook my head knowing I would be unable to shoot the mud-encrusted weapon. Slinging it over my shoulder, I unholster my sidearm. It was clean and ready to use. Not really wanting them to get close enough for my sidearm, I looked down the shallow gully in which I found myself.

Nodding, I took off running toward the tree line. When I was halfway there, shouts and yells let me know they had me spotted. Hunching over I raced for the thick forest growth. Tweets and zips follow me. I even felt one or two tugs at my jacket. Once in the forest, I kept running changing direction so I was now running directly away from those chasing me. I can hear the pops and cracks of their weapons as they blindly fire at me through the trees. Slowing, I looked over my shoulder. Not one of them follows me into the dense forest growth.

Stopping, I dropped to my knees, as I gulped air to soothe my burning lungs. Soon my heart slows and I hear the sound of running water, close by. Struggling to my feet, I head toward the sound. It turns out to be more of a brook than a stream, but it is wet and cool. After I drink my fill, I dropped my rifle in, letting it fall to the gravel bottom, watching the mud and dirt being washed away. Picking it up, I pulled the magazine from the receiver dunking both into the water once more. I then ejected the round in the chamber and repeated the dunking. Picking the rifle up, I pulled the bolt open and dunked it again.

Shaking the rifle, I inserted the free round into the magazine, then carefully inserted the magazine into the receiver. Releasing the bolt, I slammed home a round. I was now ready to defend myself. Filling my canteen, I watched all around me. Not a leaf stirs. Smiling, I rise and head back the way I came. It was time to even the score.

Three days later, I am sitting around a small fire in one of our camps, sipping what passes for coffee nowadays. It has been five years since the collapse of the U.S. Not six months after that, the Chinese landed troops on our soil, since then we have waged a guerrilla war against them. I was what you might call a freelancer. I operated by myself, my objective, to kill as many Chi-Coms as I could before they killed me. To date, I had no idea how many I had killed, but it was a lot.

They, the Western Region Kentucky Free Militia, had tried to give me a squad at the least, a platoon at the most. I always refused. I like what I do, I liked hitting the enemy when and where they least expected. Near, far, it makes no difference to me; my weapons of choice were three, an M-24, an M-4, and an automatic handgun. With the M-24, I sit back and at a thousand meters, kill three before they know I was shooting at them. With the M-4, I can take out two, at a hundred meters out before the rest scramble for cover. The handgun was for close in fighting. I can do it, but I prefer killing at a distance.

Finishing my coffee, I go and draw the ammo I would need to do my job.

The next morning I am on a ridge overlooking a well-traveled road, hidden in the brush just below the top of the ridge, down the face far enough so I wouldn't silhouette myself. As I watched, a fast-moving convoy rounded the bend and careened into view. Leading the driver in the first vehicle, I squeezed the trigger. The driver slumped over and the truck turned sharply, tipping over and blocking the road.

The second and third trucks smashed into the first, spilling their loads onto the roadway. The other six trucks stopped in time. The last two disgorged ten troops each. Squinting through my scope, I found an officer. Squeezing the trigger, he went down and confusion runs through the rest of the men. Scanning the rank insignia's, I found a non-com who seemed to be shouting orders. He was now down on the road bleeding from the wound in his head. He doesn't move. I started scanning the cargo spread across the road. A barrel appears in my sights. Smiling I pulled the trigger. Lining up my sights, I again pulled the trigger. A thunderous explosion erupted as the barrel next to it exploded. Soon all the trucks and most of the men were covered in flames. Sliding my rifle into its case, I packed up and left the area.

Crouching in the brush beside a well-used trail, I waited for them to pass, six of them in this patrol. Standing as the last man passed me, I fired into his back, then the back in front of him, three were dead, the other three wounded as I turned to leave.

All through western Kentucky, I roam, plying my trade... death. When I wander into camp the next day, I was told the commander wanted to see me. Shrugging, I headed for the fire and a cup of coffee first. Then over to his tent.

"Private Johnson, reporting as ordered, sir."

"John, sit and you haven't been a private for a very long time."

"Yes, sir," I replied sitting.

"John, I want to assign two... "

"I work alone Ed, you know that."

"I do, but these two are good, but need a little hand-holding, just for a couple of weeks, John."

"I don't know. The last time we tried this... he was killed the second day out because he wouldn't listen."

"I know John," Ed said, staring at me.

"Shit, fine, who are they?"

"Bajek, Wilfinger, get in here," Ed shouted, two women, scramble into the tent to stand at attention.

"What the fuck?" I yell.

"Now John," said Ed.

"Ed, what the hell is this?" I yelled, pointing at the two women.

"This is Captain Susan Bajek and Captain Michelle Wilfinger, both are excellent marksmen, better than you in some respects and both are... doctors."

"What?"

"You heard me. Your mission is changing John. You will escort the Doctors on missions of mercy throughout the region. There are people out there who need their help."

"Oh come on Ed... "

"That's an order Major," yelled Ed.

Gulping, I snapped to attention and saluted Ed.

"John, there's no reason to insult me now."

"Wanna bet?"

"Go eat and get a good night's rest, you leave in the morning. Dismissed."

Turning, I almost ran into the women.

"Captains," I said gesturing for them to go first.

"Major," the tall brunette replies, ducking out of the tent.

"Major," the slim redhead, said turning to follow the brunette.

Turning back to Ed, "Ed please... "

"No. You have been out there, alone, too long."

Shoulders slumping, I turned and left the tent. Outside both women wait for me.

"Major, I think we have to talk... "

I turned walking away towards the fire and food. Both women hurried to catch up.

"Major," the brunette called out.

Ignoring her, I took a plate from the stack, and fill it from the pot on the fire. The stew in camp is always good, always hot, and always filling. The women do the same, loading their plates with stew. Grabbing a seat on a log close to the fire, I sit to eat. The women do also.

"Major," the brunette starts again.

"Captain," I replied. She sighs exasperated. "Eat first, then we'll talk."

Nodding, she starts spooning stew into her mouth, as does the redhead. Fifteen minutes later, coffee in hand I nod at the Captain.

"Okay out with it," I told her.

Sir... "

"It's John, don't sir me please."

"Fine, John... damn," she swore.

"What?"

"I had this long speech all laid out and now it just seems ridiculous."

I laughed, "What's your name, Captain?"

"Susan Bajek."

"So you must be Michelle?" I said turning to the redhead.

"Yes, sir... I mean yes John."

"So, you two want to visit the sick and needy?"

"Yes," said Susan.

"While along the way killing any of the enemy we can?"

"Yes," said Michelle firmly.

"Problem Susan?" I ask.

"No, not at all," she said.

"Good. Who taught you how to shoot?"

"My father when I was young. Then an instructor when I joined the militia, a Victor 'Vic' Stanley."

"Vic taught you how to shoot?"

"Yes, both of us," said Susan.

"Good, then you at least know which end the bullet comes out, don't you?" I asked sarcastically.

"We do," answered Michelle.

"Good. What's your route going to be?"

"Well," said Susan pulling a map from her pocket, "we start," she continued to smooth the map out on the ground, "here. Then work our way west, stopping in Marion, then on to Salem, over to Lola, and up to Tulu and back here. On the way, we help American's and kill Chinese."

"You know that's a healthy hike through some rough hill country?"

"So?" Susan retorted.

"The round trip could take up to a month," I told her.

"Yes. Is that a problem for you Major?"

"Nope, and call me John."

"Good. You know we're not new to this?"

"Really?" I asked.

"We have been doing this in Central Illinois for a year now."

"Great, why don't we get some shut-eye so we're all fresh in the morning."

"Of course," said Susan folding her map.

"Shit," Susan spat as we watch a column of Chi-Com's roll into Marion.

"Yep, that about does it," I quipped.

"We could still... "

"Not as long as they are here," I told her.

"Shit!" she whispered under her breath. I just chuckled.

Pulling on her shoulder, we faded back into the woods by the roadside.

"Can we visit some of the outlying homes and farms at least?" she asked.

"We'll see, for now, we have to get away from here or we will cause trouble for them."

"Of course," she replied as we creep through the woods.

Both women were good soldiers. Both knew their way around a rifle and the woods. So far, I hadn't had to tell them much.

"Well, what do you think Major," asks Susan as we watch the goings-on at the farm below us in the valley.

"Pretty active, a lot of things going on down there, I think we need to get closer," I told her.

"Me too, I can't see who's who down there," she said.

"Yeah, me either."

Working our way to the right into the brush, the three of us crept down the hill toward the farm. After traveling about a hundred meters, I suddenly feel a tingling on the back of my neck. Raising my hand, I halted and take a knee. Both women do the same. Then I see them. Three uniformed Chinese soldiers sitting in a blind facing away from us.

Getting up, I slowly creep backward keeping an eye on the men in the blind. When I was next to Susan, I pointed to where the men were. Nodding she points for Michelle who nods she has seen them.

"You and me, knives, leave your rifle here with Michelle," I whispered in her ear.

Stepping over to Michelle, "You stay here. You have our backs," I told her, laying my rifles next to her. Looking at me, she nods.

Susan and I make our way as quietly as possible to the blind. Then we each jumped a soldier. My knife is through the soldier's throat, windpipe cut in no time. I then swung, striking the third man in the chest so hard it knocks the wind from him. Susan has her hand over her man's mouth and her knife in his heart. He kicked once and is still. Looking around the blind, I see a set of long-distance binoculars. Looking through them, I can see the valley floor clearly. Swinging the binoculars, I look at several of the people down at the farm. They were all Chinese.

"Well, what do you know," I gasped.

"What?" asked Susan.

"They set a trap," I told her.

"They did? How?"

"Never mind, we have to go now," I said pointing to the three soldiers making their way up the hill.

"Damn right," replies Susan starting back up the hill.

We collect our weapons, packs and headed out before the three dead soldiers we left behind get discovered.

Salem was abandoned. There was no one in town. We stopped at several farms, helped those in need, and gathered some intel on the goings-on in those parts. One family took us in for the night, served us breakfast, and then bids us goodbye with a "y'all come back now, ya hear."

Several klicks on, we come to another farm. We helped them with a sick child. Michelle takes care of her. Susan examines everyone else. Michelle left some antibiotics and we were off.

At the next farm, everyone is healthy. The father hands me three boxes of.308 shells.

"For your long rifle," he told me, "the Chi-Coms took mine, but didn't find these."

"Thank you, I'll put them to good use."

"Please do."

That night we bivouac on top of a wooded hill, without a fire.

"Looks quiet," said Susan.

"Maybe too quiet," Michelle whispered.

So far, Michelle has been the quiet one of the two. As I scanned the town, I suddenly started laughing.

"What?" asked Susan.

"You'll see, let's go," I said standing and walking toward town.

As we cross the small bridge, leading into town, both Susan and Michelle started laughing. On the bridge, there's a sign. It reads, "No Chinese allowed, only death awaits you here." It was just so American. For the next two days, Susan and Michelle see patients in the funeral home. After leaving Lola, the trek to Tulu is a breeze. The Chinese had also left this small town alone. We spend two days seeing patients in the schoolhouse. As we were leaving, a Chi-Com patrol surprised us. I am on point, it's too close to use my M-4. My pistol was in my hand spitting fire and lead within a fraction of a second.

As I fire, bullets whiz past my ear to punch holes into the chest of the man in front of me. Dropping to my stomach, I glance behind me and watch Michelle take out the whole patrol. Six bodies lay on the ground in front of me. Climbing to my feet, I stare at Michelle.

Looking at me she said, "What?"

"It's always the quiet ones," I whispered stepping over to the dead bodies to search them. "Perimeter," I whispered to them.

Susan and Michelle take up positions ahead and behind the pile of bodies, while I searched them for any intel. Two minutes later, we're on the move again.

"That won't cause any problems for Tulu, will it?" asks Susan.

"Shouldn't, it's pretty clear they were shot with military weapons and we're far enough away from town."

We trudged on through the woods. Along the way, we stop at several farms and houses. We were now on the long trail back to camp. There were several places along the way, where we can hurt the Chi-Coms. It is time to exact revenge and do my job. Sliding the suppressor onto the barrel of my M-24, I pull the bipod legs down until they lock. Slipping the rifle forward, I gaze through the scope at an overabundance of targets. A column of Chi-Coms were headed away from us at about three hundred meters.

"What are you doing?" asked Susan.

"My job," I told her.

Lining up my sights, I squeezed the trigger. The last man in the column drops to the ground silently. One after another, the last man falls. For five minutes, I fire and reload. The last man I shoot falls forward into the man in front of him. The whole column disappears into the woods.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted," I whispered. "Time to go, ladies," I told them.

Tearing down my rifle, I slipped it into its case and slinging it over my back. We were heading away from the column within seconds. As we hiked through the woods, I notice Michelle is talking silently to herself. Stepping up next to her, I touch her arm.

"Problem?" I ask.

"Yes," she hisses.

"With me?"

"No, with me and I don't want to talk about it." She hurried on, leaving me walking alone again.

"Just leave her be John. I'll explain when we get back to camp."

"Sure, Sue, sure."

Back in camp, I sat in Ed's tent sipping a twelve-year-old scotch. It was good too.

"How did it go?" asked Ed pouring me another.

"It went well. The Chi-Com are in Marion."

"Yeah, I figured they would be."

"Lola is clear as is Tulu. Salem is abandoned."

"Really? Salem?"

"Yep, I also found the Chi-Com are going farm to farm and confiscating weapons."

"Standard practice," Ed said.

"Michelle is a hell of a soldier, but she has a... she's conflicted."

"How so?" asks Ed.

"She is having a problem resolving the killing with her Hippocratic Oath.

"As she should," Ed muttered.

"It's driving her nuts, Ed."

"So I've been told."

"When?" I asked surprised.

"When they transferred down here, it's in her file."

"Huh, how about Susan?" I ask.

"She seems able to resolve her actions in her mind. Is she any good?"

"Yes very good. If I didn't know better I'd say they were both long-time Marines."

"Nope, homegrown militia, Gunny," Ed told me smiling.

Two days later the three of us trudge up a hill where we would be able to overlook a good portion of Marion. As we approach the top of the rise, I hear voices speaking English. Raising my hand, I signal for us to halt. Taking a knee, I listened to what they were saying.

"... then the gook just flopped around on the ground, so I shot him again."

"Too bad they killed all those people down in town trying to flush us out, fucking gooks."

"How's your leg, Denny?"

"It hurts... bad."

Rising, I slowly walked to where the trio sits. They were so intent on what is happening in the valley, they didn't even hear me approach.

"Gentlemen," I said softly.

The three turned rifles ready.

"Geez, who the fuck are you?" one of them asked.

"Lower your weapons," I said not moving.

They lower their rifles. Still kneeling, "I'm Major Johnson of the Kentucky Free Militia. Captains, you have a patient up here," I called over my shoulder.

When two women appear right before their eyes, all three jumped when they realize they were found so easily.

"Denny is it?" He nodded at Susan's question, "What I'm going to do is probably going to hurt."

"Great," Denny said softly.

"You, what's your name?" I asked the oldest of the group.

"Calvin, Calvin Watson, sir."

"I'm John, Calvin. Now tell me what you three have been up to."

"Killing Chinese," boasted Calvin.

"And they knew you're from around here?"

"Of course," Calvin said proudly.

"How many of your friends and families have been killed in retribution?"

"Twenty-two," croaked Calvin.

"There is a reason we don't... never mind. Susan, how's your patient?"

"He'll live, but we need to get him out of the weather, somewhere warm."