Trial by Fire

"What do you mean, "Take out the people at the armory?" Mason asked. "Do you mean kill them?"

"No, I don't," Reagan said. "I mean do whatever it takes to get what we need. I mean we go down there and stick a gun in their face. If they surrender, we lock them in a room and take what we need. If they don't surrender, I mean shoot them in the face. Everything in there is paid for by tax dollars we gave them to protect us. They aren't going to protect us and we have as much right to it as anyone else. We give them the chance to give us what we need. If they don't give us what we need, they're trying to kill us. If we aren't armed and supplied, we aren't going to make it. We're all going to die if we can't get out of here or protect ourselves. Do you get it?"

"Yes, I just don't know if I can shoot anyone," Lanston said.

Everyone expressed the same problem. "How can we just shoot them?" Sara asked. "We can't just murder people!"

Reagan shook his head. "I don't know how we're going to do it. I hope they'll be reasonable people, understand what we're doing and help us. I don't expect that. They won't be reasonable because most people aren't Normal people don't do things like that in normal situations. This isn't a normal situation. This is an emergency. Normal rules have to go out the window. I'm not some criminal that just shoots people. However, I haven't ever been in this position before. If we meet Joe Blow and I have the choice of killing him or letting one of you get hurt, I hope I have the guts to make sure it's him. If it means protecting my family or sacrificing someone else, it's going to be someone else every time. We have to get our heads around this. It's either fight or die. If it was just me, I might feel different, but it's not just me. I will sacrifice everyone else on the planet to protect you. If every one of you doesn't feel like that, we might as well sit here and starve."

"We've got the idea, Dad. We just don't know if we can do it," Mason said. "We'll try, but the idea is just so horrible, you have to be feeling it."

"I do feel it," Reagan said. "I just don't see what the options are."

"Can't we just use what we have?" Kierra asked. "I have a pistol too. Can't we just use our stuff? Why do we need to get stuff from the armory?"

"How many bullets you got?" Reagan asked.

"50," Kierra said.

"We have 50 rounds for the 30/30," Reagan said. "We have 500 .22 shells, 50 shotgun shells in bird shot and 10 rounds of buckshot. We have 50 rounds of .357 ammo and you have 50 rounds of .38 special. We can shoot the .38's in the .357. We are going to have to kill food. We have one gun per person. If we're attacked, and we will be attacked, that ammo is going to melt away like ice in July. We don't have enough food to last two weeks. We don't have medical supplies. We don't have enough fuel. We are up the creek without a paddle. If we don't get set, and get set quick, we're all dead. If someone doesn't kill us and eat us, we'll get sick and die, or, we'll starve to death or die of thirst. Do you all understand?"

There was an affirmative chorus. "Okay, then let's get started. Everyone go pack a bag. Bring good warm clothes. Everything in the medicine line we've got. Anything you can't live without, bring; everything else stays. Let's get moving."

An hour later, with the boat on their small trailer, the Suburban and the boat filled with their belongings, they were ready to go. Everyone carried a weapon.

There were two cars in the armory parking lot. It was 11 o'clock at night and everything was quiet. Everyone got out and did a weapons check.

"Are we ready?" Reagan asked. Everyone nodded. "Mason, Kierra and Lanston go right. Your mother and I go left. Any trouble, you shoot and let God sort out the details, right?"

"We got it, Dad,"

The front door was locked. "Go get a towel," Reagan told Lanston.

He used to towel to dampen the noise of the glass breaking. It still made quite a racket and quickly, a red emergency light went on down the hall to the right. A sleepy guardsman, unarmed, stumbled into the hall.

"Freeze right there," Mason growled.

His voice was low and menacing. The guardsman took one look and bolted for the door. Mason sprinted after him, with Lanston and Kierra trailing with weapons leveled.

Mason caught up with the guardsman as he fumbled for keys to the arms locker. He was a smallish fellow and Mason's 300 lbs. crushed him against the door. He tried to fight, but caught in arms that could press more than 400 lbs., his efforts were feeble. Mason locked his wrists behind the guardsman's back and squeezed. Muscles crawled and tightened like cables in his arms and his head sunk between swelling deltoids and traps and suddenly there was a scream and a crack. The guardsman collapsed as Mason puked on his shoes.

Now, there was a light and cries of alarm down the hall to the left. Reagan raced down the hall with Sara as two men emerged from a doorway. One carried a pistol and was looking for a target. Sara's 12 gauge bellowed and, struck by a hail of double ought buckshot, both men went down.

"Everyone okay?" Reagan called.

"We're okay," Lanston answered. "Mason is being sick, but he's okay."

"How about the guardsman?" Reagan called.

"I think I broke his back," Mason said. "It was horrible, but I think he's still alive."

Both of the guardsmen Sara had shot were alive but bleeding. Her shot had been low and the men were torn up badly below the waist.

Sara collapsed. Reagan rushed to her, but she had only fainted. They got her up and stopped the bleeding of the gunshot victims, dragged them all into the weapons storeroom, carried the weapons and ammunition outside and locked the three guardsmen inside.

"Someone will find them in the morning," Reagan said. "Maybe they'll be okay."

"They never even gave us a chance to explain," Sara lamented.

There were a variety of weapons in the arms locker. The pistols were all .45 caliber and they left those. They preferred their .38s. The rifles were all .223 (the NATO 5.56mm) caliber and they took all of them. The 30/30 was discarded and each person now carried an M16. They took grenades, a heavy MK2 Browning .50 caliber machine gun and box after box of ammo.

Behind the front desk, they found a pegboard with keys. "Let's see what they've got," Lanston said.

Out back inside a chain-link fence were a couple of armored transport vehicles. The boys scouted around and found a dozen jerry cans full of fuel. They loaded them into the armored vehicle. Meals Ready to Eat were located and dozens of boxes loaded into the vehicle. Tools, repair manuals and weapons were packed and stowed away.

With the Suburban leading the way and Kierra driving the armored vehicle, the small convey crossed the interstate and parked in front of Wal-Mart. It was a 24-hour store, but with the power out, there was only one vehicle in the lot.

It belonged to a security guard, but in view of two shotguns stuck in his face, he quickly chose discretion as the better part of valor and was locked in the freezer.

The Thayers made quick work of raiding the sporting goods department, securing fishing tackle, rope, camping supplies, ammunition for their handguns and shotguns, knives and propane bottles..

Cart after cart of canned goods, flour, sugar, bottled water and other food followed. The pharmacy was raided and antibiotics, pain medication and other medical supplies were secured. They loaded personal hygiene items.

It was four o'clock in the morning when the two vehicles swung onto the interstate south. They took interstate 49 south to US 60 and turned east near Neosho. There were a number of vehicles on the road, all headed south and east. Apparently, word was starting to get out.

Just east of Springfield, MO, the state highway patrol had a roadblock set up. The armored transport took the lead with Lanston at the wheel.

"Okay, hang on now," he said. He stopped 20 yards short of the roadblock and seeing the National Guard vehicle the troopers holstered their weapons, Lanston jammed the accelerator to the floor and the transport surged forward. The two highway patrol vehicles were no obstacle as the men behind them dove out of the way. The armored vehicle exploded through the gap with the suburban close behind.

The patrolmen fired a couple of wild shots after them, but their vehicles were damaged beyond the point of pursuit. Twice, in small towns, the local police attempted to stop them, and twice they fought running gun battles with locals attempting to hijack them, but superior firepower prevailed and they rolled on.

By noon the next day, they were near the river. Reagan was afraid that the bridges would be blocked and they turned north along the river, looking for some kind of marina. They saw a few boats, but nothing that suited Reagan. In the middle of the afternoon, they came up on a small town that also served as a barge loading station. The docks seemed abandoned. There were people on the street, but no one attempted to stop them as they rolled into the marina. A tug, tied up to a fuel barge, swung in the current. It looked as if the people running it had abandoned the boat.

"Probably went to find their families," Sara said.

"Maybe so," Reagan said. "They just did us a big favor."

He sent Lanston and Mason to see if they could figure out how to operate the tug, while he and the girls stood guard in case anyone tried to stop them. They saw no one and after about a half an hour, they heard the engines of the tug churn to life.

Mason came into view on the bow and waved. He jumped down onto the fuel barge and cast off the lines. Evidently, Lanston was at the wheel and he had some trouble figuring out the twin screws of the tug. After ramming the barge twice, he finally got some sort of handle on the operation and nosed the tug up next to the pier. Mason threw the lines down to the pier and Reagan tied them off.

"Well, let's get loaded," Reagan said.

"Hey, Dad," Mason said. "Do you think we could get the truck up on that thing? Wherever we're going, we'll need wheels and it sure would be handy to have that truck."

"Don't know," Reagan said. "Seems unlikely, but it would sure be less work than unloading and loading. You got any ideas?"

They walked around awhile, looking. Finally Sara called down the pier. "I think I found something."

What she found proved to be a loading ramp for a ferry. It could be lowered and raised and Lanston soon had the tug alongside and Reagan maneuvered the truck down onto the stern of the tug.

"I don't know how we'll ever get it off again, but I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he said. They pulled the Jon boat off the trailer, unloaded the SUV and boarded the tug.

"What do you think about taking that fuel barge with us?" Lanston asked. "We could set up our camp on it, live over there and the fuel would sure come in handy. The less we have to put in on shore the less risk we have of getting in a fight."

"I don't know, son. Think you can handle the thing?" Reagan asked. "It seems pretty risky. You kind of smashed the thing up the first time you were tied up to it. Want to risk it again?"

"I think I've got the hang of it now," Lanston said. "This thing can turn on a dime once you figure the controls out."

"I guess we can give it a try," Reagan said.

They tied back on to the fuel barge and Lanston did show some mastery of the controls. Reagan felt confident that he would get better and would be able to show the rest how the controls worked.

As they cast off, a police car came screaming down to the docks, but the occupants could only threaten and shake their fists as the tug swung into the current and pulled downstream.

Just below Cairo, the Ohio River joined the Mississippi and the river was over a mile wide. A large island appeared and the Thayer's decided to tie off, get some rest and maybe do a little fishing. They found a sand bar and Lanston gently drifted the barge into the bar and killed the engine.

They baited hooks, set out some lines, put up some tents, cooked a meal and settled back onto beds of Ensolite and sleeping bags and went to sleep.

Chapter Five

Just outside Columbia, thing began to go to hell in a hand-basket. US 54 had been quiet. There were many broken and abandoned vehicles to navigate, and someone, probably at the University of Missouri, had let the cat out of the bag. Jason's first sign of trouble was a flapping at the right rear of the truck. One of the duals on the back was flat and coming to pieces. He stopped to take a look at a boat ramp parking lot on a small creek. It looked like he had hit some piece of debris on the road. There was no possibility of changing the tire and Jason doubted he could get another. Even if he found an abandoned truck with the same wheel, he had no heavy tools to change it. It would just have to beat itself to pieces.

He pulled out and the vibration and noise began immediately. He drove slowly for 10 minutes. He saw some smoke ahead on the road and supposed that there had been a recent accident. As he rolled closer, he noticed a postal service truck on fire on the right shoulder and several pick-up trucks around it. It could be that they were helping, but somehow Jason doubted that. He checked his pistol and put it in his lap.

As Jason approached the burning truck two of the pick-ups backed into the road, blocking any passage. Four men jumped out of the trucks carrying rifles or shotguns and stationed themselves behind the trucks. Another man, also armed, stood in the middle of the road with his weapon leveled as Jason approached.

He slowed to a stop, 50 yards from where the man was standing in the road and waited. The man shouted something and gestured for Jason to get out of the truck. Jason pretended not to understand and leaned out the window, beckoning the man to come to him. The man shouted something over his shoulder to his buddies and, cautiously, stepped forward toward Jason. As he came even with the door, he kept the rifle aimed at Jason.

"Step out of the truck with your hands up!" He shouted.

"What for," Jason said. "I have medical supplies for the University Hospital."

"Not any more, you don't," the man said. "We're taking your truck. You can come easy or we can get rough."

"My leg is hurt," Jason said. "I can't get down without help." He swung the door partially open and acted like he was trying to get down.

"Just don't try anything dumb," the man said. He yelled back to his gang to come and help as he approached the door. His companions abandoned the shelter of the trucks and started forward.

As the hijacker came even with the door, Jason fired two shots through it, striking the man in the chest and stomach. He collapsed and Jason rammed the truck into gear, jammed the accelerator to the floor and roared straight at the four men who were advancing on him. They had time to fire wildly, diving out of the way. The bullets hit the truck, but fortunately not Jason as he crashed into the trucks blocking the road.

He managed to keep control and the 5-ton was hardly slowed as it brushed the pick-ups aside. He thought he was home free until he noticed 10 miles down the road that there was steam coming from the front of the truck and his temperature gauge was starting to rise. He stopped and opened the hood. One of those shots has struck the radiator and a cloud of steam was hissing out. The truck was done.

Jason collected his gear and started walking. He passed a house and noticed a motorcycle in the carport. He walked up the driveway and knocked on the front door. A woman looked out the window but didn't open the door.

"What do you want?" she shouted.

"My name is Jason Kilwreath," he said. "I'm a graduate student at the University of Missouri. Some guys tried to rob me back down the road and shot up my radiator. My truck is toast and I saw your motorcycle in the carport. I wonder if you would let me buy it or trade something for it?"

The woman opened the door and Jason saw a very ugly looking machete pointed at his belly. A young girl who looked to be 16 or so was holding a shotgun and stood behind her. The shotgun was also aimed at his belly.

"That motorcycle belongs to my brother and it doesn't run," she said. "He went in to the store to get some water and gas and he's been gone for two days. If you'll help us find him I'll take you in to the University myself."

"Listen, if your brother has been gone for two days, something has obviously happened. We can go look for him, and I'll help you do it, but if we do, we open ourselves up to having whatever happened to him happen to us."

"I don't care," the woman said. "I just can't leave him out there. He may be hurt or being held somewhere. I have to try and help him. My name is Alexis Brooks, by the way and this is my sister Dannielle."

"Where are your parents?" Jason asked.

"They died in a car accident two years ago," Alex said.

"Sorry, I didn't know. Where do you think we might look for your brother and what kind of car do you have?"

"I've got an Explorer," Alex said.

"Is it four-wheel drive?" Jason asked.

"Yes, she said. "Why, do you think we'll need four-wheel drive?"

"You never know," he said, "might come in handy. That the only gun you have?"

"No," Dannielle said, speaking for the first time. "Our dad was a big hunter so we've got about ten more. We have two bows, too. I just thought this would be the one I wouldn't miss with. Can you really help us find Andy?"

"I can't promise anything," Jason said. "I'll help you look, but if it looks like we are going to risk our lives, I can't do that. My parents live in Jefferson City and they are going to need my help if they're still okay. I have to be alive to help them. I'll take a certain amount of risk, but I'm not charging the guns for someone I haven't met and risk not being able to help my own folks."

"I understand," Alex said. "Just make an effort and help us and we'll help you."

"Deal," he said and shook Alex's hand.

After inspecting the Brooks' firearms stock, Jason selected an M1 Carbine for Alex and a semi-auto .270 for himself. Dannielle seemed happy with the 20 gauge she was carrying so he gave her a box of buckshot and a nice little .38 auto she said she knew how to shoot. They packed all the food and water they had and Alex opened the garage and got out the Explorer.

"Andy said he was going to town to the grocery store," Alex said. "There's one about five miles down the road. We'll check there and then head for the University when we find him."

"I don't actually live on campus," Jason said. "I've got an apartment just off campus. I don't really have any reason to go there. I was just passing through on my way to Jeff City. Do you girls understand what has happened?"

"Yes," Dannielle said. "We know Yellowstone erupted and that's why the power is all off and the radio and TV don't work."

"That's not what happened, Dannielle," Jason explained. "Have you ever heard of La Garita?"

"No, what's that?" she asked, "and you can call me Danni."

"It's a volcano in Colorado that's been extinct for a long time. For some reason, it woke up and it makes Yellowstone look like a toy cannon. If you don't get out of Missouri and head south, you're toast. We're all toast," Jason said. "There is going to be an ash fall like the worst snowstorm you have ever seen or heard of. Everything in this area is going to be buried under feet of ash. There's going to be darkness for who knows how long. Most of the vegetation on the continent is going to die. We won't be able to grow food. In fact, it's going to be like the Arctic circle moved south and stopped on Denver. The volcano is putting millions of tons of ash and gas into the air and after the ash settles out and the volcano stops erupting, we're going to have years of winter here."