Nuclear winter book 4 go.., p.25
Nuclear Winter | Book 4 | Going Home, page 25
part #4 of Nuclear Winter Series
The man shrugged. “One of those things, right? Since I run pretty much the only kid's store in town, people come to me with all sorts of stuff. Well this guy comes into my store a year or so ago and tells me he's sitting on an entire warehouse full of this sort of extreme sports equipment and wants to know if I'm interested in any of it. Problem is he's not only asking a pretty serious price, but it's also up to me to actually go pick up anything I buy.
“Well those sorts of toys are a bit over the age range of the usual stuff I sell in my store, and the deal didn't seem so great anyway. But me, Mary, and Lizzy were having dinner with her family and the offer came up in conversation. I was a bit surprised when Lewis immediately jumped on it. His reasoning was that while that stuff might be way too expensive for toys for most families' budget, they might make cheap but workable substitutes for more standard materials when it comes to combat training.”
“Case in point,” Pete said, hefting his toy rifle.
Mitch grinned. “Yeah, although this isn't the first use he's gotten out of them. The police force also uses them for urban tactical simulations, along with a few groups who want to prepare just in case things ever go downhill again like they did after the Gulf refineries attack. Matt seemed to agree it was a good idea and contributed some of the town's fuel and funds so Lewis could drive out and pick up a good haul, on the condition they be available for Aspen Hill's use, too.”
“Well hopefully we'll get good use out of them today. Glad that guy approached you even if you weren't interested.”
Mary's husband nodded. “Just goes to show you never can tell who might end up being a customer. You can approach a toy store trying to sell some of your stuff and end up closing a major deal with an ammunition manufacturer instead.”
Yeah, that outcome was probably uncommon even in the unpredictable world of business.
After a few more minutes of walking beside the man Pete decided enough time had passed to politely speed up and make his way back to the front of the group. They'd already been hiking for almost two hours, and given their pace he guessed they still had at least a half hour more to go, but he didn't exactly want the group blundering into their target and alerting the defenders to their presence.
After all, it was never too early to start thinking, and more importantly scouting, ahead.
Their “target” was a small, rundown cluster of farmhouses and outbuildings thirty or so miles south of Old Aspen Hill. Nobody had returned to claim the land when Robert Paulson and his people resettled the area, and it made an ideal spot for a combat simulation.
Pete hadn't set up any rules for this exercise, aside from the obvious ones pertaining to safety, so there was nothing preventing Lewis, who he assumed would take charge of the defenders, from sending out patrols and setting up sentry points as far out as he wanted.
The only real obstacle to him doing so was that, same as the defenders had been dropped off at the “village” to begin their preparations, the raiders had started their hike from a location Pete picked out after the two groups split up. Pete had the option of picking any spot exactly five miles away to approach from, which meant his raiders could be coming from any direction.
So unless Lewis wanted to spread his defenders out thin and leave his village undefended, he couldn't send them out too far.
Pete snagged Jim on his way to the front, and when he caught up with Rick he motioned back at the group. “Keep everyone moving. Me and Jim are going to scout ahead, find the village, and make sure we're not spotted by any patrols as we come in.”
“We are, are we?” Jim complained good-naturedly. “How did I get volunteered for this task?”
“Because you're young and in good shape and don't seem like a clumsy idiot.”
“So he's pick of the litter, eh?” Rick joked, although he looked a bit annoyed that he hadn't been chosen to go.
Pete hadn't meant it as an insult, he just really didn't trust anyone besides himself to scout ahead, and if someone had to stay behind to lead the raiders he preferred it to be someone he knew and trusted. Which meant Rick.
He was trying to find a way to say that without sounding condescending or insulting to his raiders, but thankfully Jim answered for him. “Hey, if you really want to jog ahead lugging a heavy backpack, then crawl around in the dirt dodging enemy patrols . . .”
Rick gave in with good grace. “No, no, I'll stay here and keep everyone hot on your heels.”
Pete nodded his thanks. “Just be aware we could be within sight of Lewis's scouts at any point, so keep your eyes peeled ahead and try to keep the group to whatever cover you can.”
“Gotcha.”
Pete hesitated. “And if I don't come back, you're in charge.” It went without saying, but best to be clear about it.
His friend nodded, and with Jim on his heels Pete broke into a trot towards the village ahead.
The ground here was mostly flat and clear, with a few rises and dips and some hills farther west, closer to the mountains. The grass was short and sparse in most places, and the only real sources of cover were a few scattered sagebrushes and the infrequent squat evergreen.
Still, Pete made do with what he could, keeping to the best cover he could find and squinting ahead for any sign of movement or anything out there that didn't look as if it belonged.
After about ten minutes he figured he had to be getting close enough to the target that the lack of anything out of the ordinary was starting to worry him. He spotted a hill up ahead and to his right a bit, and while he didn't see anyone on it his instincts and experience told him Lewis would have a sentry there.
He paused behind a low rise, peeking over the top through the sparse branches of a sagebrush as he inspected the hill landscape around them and the hill ahead one last time. “Stay here and cover me,” he whispered to Jim as the man dropped into a crouch beside him. “I'm going to approach that hill and see if anyone's on it.”
His friend frowned at the landmark ahead, well out of range of pellet and paintball rifles. “How exactly do I cover you, now?”
Pete motioned to the binoculars on the younger man's belt. “Watch our surroundings. I'll be glancing back at the rise every once in a while, and if you see anything out of the ordinary try to get my attention without being seen and alert me to it. If something goes wrong get back to Rick and report.”
Without waiting for a response Pete started forward, creeping and following cover as he continued to watch the hill ahead. The angle was wrong to use his own binoculars without reflected glare from the sun being visible, which was the quickest way to get spotted, so he contented himself with eyeballing the target.
Once he'd covered half the distance he saw it: a man's head peeking up over the edge of the hill from a little hollow, almost but not quite hidden by a patch of yellow grass. The head swiveled slowly, searching the landscape.
Pete just as slowly dropped down out of view. Now that he had a visual on a sentry it would be easier to stay out of sight, and he began circling the hill to approach it from a different angle.
On this side of the hill the slope was gentler, and studded with those squat evergreens. Pete darted from one to the next, eyes searching all directions and rifle ready. Finally he saw the sentry crouched in his hiding spot, swiveling to look around in all directions, including the one Pete was coming from.
This would take a bit more caution, but Pete was close enough by this point that he could shoot the man the moment he was spotted. He supposed that was one advantage of these toy guns over real ones; the sound of a gunshot this close to the village would draw every sentry in the area, and alert the defenders in the village itself to prepare for attack.
He supposed he should've accounted for that when planning this scenario, but oh well, hindsight. Since he hadn't he intended to take full advantage of the quieter weapon.
Pete crept forward. Closer, closer. And the sentry continued to look around alertly without seeing a blasted thing. At first it was amusing as Pete crossed yard after yard without being seen, then it was annoying. Then he started to wonder if the guy was messing with him.
It was like a couple nights ago when he'd been chatting with Rick and Alice, and little Pete kept on trying to sneak up on them and poke one of them in the back, then run off laughing. Pete could always tell when the little squirt was coming, and usually had to will his eyes to slide past him to not give the game away.
And right now he felt like the sentry was doing the same thing, looking right at him without focusing on him.
Closer, closer. Within twenty yards. Then ten. Finally the guy jumped in surprise and started to turn his way, bringing his rifle to bear. Pete, who'd had his finger hovering over the trigger this entire time, fired twice. The compressed CO2 made a thwack with each shot, and the sentry yelped and rubbed at his stinging chest where the pellets had hit him.
The guy started to open his mouth to yell a warning to the other defenders, but Pete hissed at him to be quiet. “Uh uh. You're dead.”
The sentry's shoulders slumped. “Jeez, I let you get within twenty feet of me?”
You're telling me. “You should probably spend less time sweeping the landscape and more time focusing on places where an enemy could sneak up on you. Don't just search for movement out there, look for anything out of place.”
The trainee nodded sheepishly. “So what now?”
Good question. Obviously Pete couldn't send him to the village without alerting Lewis to the raiders' approach. Pete pointed back the way he'd come. “The other group's not far that way. You can hang out with us until this is over.”
At least the guy was a good sport about it. He even tried to move fast and stealthy when he left so his teammates wouldn't notice what he was doing and raise the alarm. Pete left him to it and continued up the hill to where the sentry had been keeping watch, moving extra cautiously as he neared the top. Once he could see over it to the other side his suspicions were confirmed that the village was just a few hundred yards away, a bit to the west and closer to the mountains. He raised his binoculars for a closer look.
Actually, the target reminded Pete a lot of the Roy farm back when he and his squad had arrived just in time to foil that slaver attack five years ago. Only now the shoe was on the other foot, he supposed.
The thought of that time, the amazing months with Abella and their tragic end, caused the expected wave of pain to surge through him. With both hands on the binoculars he didn't subconsciously reach for her ring like he usually would, but bittersweet memories of her filled his thoughts as he scoped out the farm buildings below.
Lewis's defenders had been hard at work on the place: new barricades had been put up between a few of the closest together buildings, and Pete spotted newly dug emplacements at good vantage points dotted around the area. He also saw strings of cans hung along any stretch of grass long enough to hide them around the perimeter. Not much of a threat during the day, but at night he could well imagine an unwary raider stumbling across them.
Still, the cans seemed a bit trite to him; there were easier, more effective early warning measures experienced soldiers used, and he would've expected better from Lewis and the others who'd been in actual combat.
At least his friend had the right idea when it came to how he'd placed his people. The defending group were already stationed behind the barricades and in the emplacements, and random patrols roved the perimeter keeping a wary watch on the surrounding area.
If anything the defenders were far too well prepared against a surprise raid, more than anyone ever would be even in dangerous areas that slavers from the Locust Swarm hit often. Only a community that knew an attack was coming within the next few hours would drop everything and have everyone all holed up ready to defend themselves like that.
That sort of early warning was a luxury rarely enjoyed by actual victims of slavers.
Still, he couldn't account for everything in a simulated raid like this. During the post-combat analysis he'd just have to explain very plainly that maintaining this level of defense long term wasn't realistic, and give some pointers on efficient scouting and sentry rosters. Combined with swift mobilization drills and regular training, that should be sufficient to get these people through most emergencies.
After sizing up the situation for a minute Pete noticed one of the defenders on patrol heading towards the hill he was hiding atop. For a frantic moment he wondered what to do; if the man saw the sentry gone he'd immediately raise the alarm, which would give up the fact that Pete's raiders had arrived, and also the direction they were coming from. Things would be much more difficult then.
A sudden absurd thought struck him. The man was still far enough away that Pete couldn't see his face clearly without the binoculars. The worst that could happen at this point was that he'd be discovered, which would happen anyway if the man kept coming.
So he turned around and slithered backwards up and over the crest of the hill and started down the other side, as if he was a sentry trying to stay out of sight. Then, once he was below the crest, he straightened to a sitting position and turned to look at the patrolling defender. He smiled wide so his teeth would show, even at that distance, waved once, and gave the “OK” sign.
The trainee paused, then waved back. Pete waved again then slithered back over the top of the hill, as if returning to his post.
If the guy kept coming Pete could take him out too, possibly buy the raiders a few more minutes. Or more preferably the guy would keep going on his rounds without investigating the hilltop. Pete peeked up and over again to check, and to his relief saw the man continuing on towards a rise farther to the west.
Quickly but calmly he slid back down out of view, then turned and scrambled down the slope and across the flat ground beyond to the rise where Jim had been covering his approach on the sentry. His friend remained hidden and waited to speak until Pete dropped down next to him.
“What's the situation?”
Pete nodded at the hill. “The village is about three hundred yards on the other side of that, out in the open. Approach is going to be difficult. You probably saw that I tagged a sentry and sent him to Rick so he wouldn't give us away to Lewis, but there's no telling how long we have until his absence is discovered.”
The younger man nodded. “So what now?”
“Now you head back for the others. Get them here the same way we came, as fast as possible while trying to stay at least a little stealthy. I'll stick around on the hilltop and make sure your approach is clear, try to fool or distract any defenders who come sniffing around.”
“Gotcha.” Jim motioned to the area behind the rise. “We'll gather up here.”
“Good. Remember, quick but sneaky, before we lose the element of surprise.”
“Roger.” His friend grinned. “We'll do our best to be noisy but quiet and flashy but invisible, too.”
Pete shook his head in minor irritation, but decided it wasn't worth making an issue of. This was a serious exercise and he wanted everyone to treat it as if it was real, but then again he'd known plenty of people who cracked wise during actual combat situations. The tension hit different people differently.
Jim took off back the way they'd come, and Pete made his way back up to the sentry post and resumed his watch on the village.
He put the time to good use, identifying where as many of Lewis's defenders were as possible and the timing and routes of their patrols. He also searched the surrounding area for the best approach routes and began forming a plan of attack.
After about five minutes he caught brief flashes of movement across the distant landscape as his raiders approached the rise, and couldn't help but wince. He only hoped Lewis's sentries weren't as observant as he was, or better yet didn't have the proper angle to see what was coming for them.
With a last look at the village below he abandoned his position and slithered back down the hill, sneaking his way back to the rise. By the time he got there Rick, Jim, and the others were waiting for him, expressions eager.
“What's it look like over there?” Rick asked.
Pete quickly gathered everyone in a circle around him as he sketched a map in the dirt, marking the farmhouses and the positions of the barricades and emplacements, as well as a few lines roughly following the patrol routes of the sentries. He also noted a few spots where he guessed defenders might be hidden out of sight inside buildings.
“Looks like a tough nut to crack,” Rick said when he was finished, frowning down at the crude drawing.
He nodded. “Properly dug in defenders will have a significant advantage in any fight. It helps us that they don't actually live there, so they haven't been in this area much longer than we have and they won't be much more familiar with the lay of the land than we are. Even so, we'll have to plan and carry out a well-coordinated attack to win here.”
He fell silent, waiting for the rest of his team to toss him some ideas. But the others looked at each other dubiously. “Well you're the expert here,” Rick eventually said. “What do you think?”
Pete bit back a sigh. Since this was a training exercise he would've preferred them to make the plan on their own. If it wasn't a great one he could explain why and have them modify it until it was solid. And then after they tried it, win or lose, he could poke holes in it and walk them through the mistakes in their thinking and how they could improve it.
Of course he also liked to win, and daylight was burning. Giving them a good plan and then running through why it was good after they trashed Lewis's team would also provide plenty of teaching opportunities.
He quickly began scratching lines. “Jim, you'll take a team and circle around to poke at them from the south in fifteen minutes. I want you all to be very visible, make noise and spray shots everywhere, even if you don't hit anything. But still do your best to stick to cover and don't get shot doing anything stupid.”
“Check. Be very loud, visible, obvious decoys, but somehow also don't get shot,” Jim agreed wryly. He sure did like his sarcasm, the youngest Smith boy did.
