Chapter from another story I wrote

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Chapter from another story I wrote

Post by wtr100 » Fri Dec 15, 2017 11:52 pm

Grammar and spelling might be sketchy


"We were so used to havin' an easy time of it in our own territory
That we shore bargined for the brave heriocs proformed by those Minnsota folks
And as soon as they knew their bank was bein' robbed
The towns people came out shootin' muskets and shotguns and even throwin' rocks at us
They shot us all to Hell
Bill Chadwell was lyin' dead
And Clell Miller had been peppered with buckshot
And bells were rangin' adn the horses were rarein' up and women screaming"

Coleman Younger - Northfield, The Disaster

They rode into town in three diesel pickup trucks, ladies in the cabs, men in the camper shells in the back to preserve the nice clothes of the women. Very early on this Easter morning the water heater and generators at The Scale House and in the Horse Office were fired up and the first hot showers in a long time were had. A few folks stayed back at the Pitts to hold the fort. Everyone was armed. The ladies had handguns in purses , mostly S&W 915 pistols or Ruger Six Series revolvers. Except Wendy ever the non-comformist carried an M1 Garand. The men had either M1 Garands, Beretta Police shotguns or cut down Brazilian Mausers.

It was a glorious spring day. The parking lot in the Apostolic church was filling fast. It was odd to see so many firearms going into church. Oddly the Apostolic Church, in the past not enamored of firearms, seemed to have armed security posted. Once inside following the custom of their Apostolic hosts the men sat on one side of the church, women on the other.

Willie snuck a look over at Christa, she caught him and winked. She looked really nice in a dress, fresh haircut and shower. James was thinking much the same thing about Pamela and Scott about Rylee.

"He is risen."

"He is risen indeed!"


North of town things weren't going well. Louis the stupid turd had gotten them lost on some hick back road. They had wandered the back roads till they finally found the highway to Prince. Now they were going to be late. The Guarda Truck , formerly used to service ATM's, and two thick sided dump trucks were supposed to crash the North Gate then rush to the Apostolic Church and bottle up most of the town with firebombs and gunfire.

They were supposed to arrive first - at 10:30. There was no way they'd make it. No way to signal, they'd be late.


The guards at the south barricade got a heads up warning via GMRS radio. A Brinks armored truck loaded with gang spray painted gang signs and three heavy dump trucks where heading toward town. They had enough warning to start and move the big Case IH tractor into the road to re-inforce the gate. What they forgot to do until just before the trucks arrived was alert the other gates and call for backup.

The driver of the Armored truck was jacked up on crank and thought he could bull his way through. He might have made it had he aimed for the lighter end of the articulated tractor and had kept his foot down on the accelerator. His nerve failed him at the last moment. His altered senses kept him from stopping in time. He hit the tractor but not hard enough to knock it away, just hard enough to disable the truck and knock himself silly.


The guards at the East barricade to the town of Prince got a warning from their forward post just as the South Gate called for backup. They called for backup immediately. In the fire station where the backup force spent most of it's time playing cards or re-reading old gun magazines the backup force leader decided to sound the general alarm. He opened the valve that let compressed air flow to the civil defense siren. It started to wail. As the pressure in the tank dropped a generator kicked in firing the compressor and keeping the siren going.

Men of the rode in pickups or four wheelers or even bicycles to re-inforce their assigned gates.


In the Apostolic Church the 'Passing the Peace' had just begun when the siren began to wail. The Deacon leading service said, "Everyone that is the General Alarm. Please let the assigned Minute Men get out the door."

Minute men were men (and a few women) who volunteered to be armed and ready at all times. As the Minute Men headed out Jim got the everyone's attention, "Follow me."

Jim had consulted with the town when they set up their defense plan after the town of Dunlap was attacked the late fall of the previous year. The town of Prince had taken many of his suggestions. The town had barricades on the four roads into town. Further outside of town was a hidden lookout post. The guard force was armed with everything from AR15 to AK to lever rifles to cut down shotguns.

At the town fire station was a backup force usually 4 to 8 men per shift. They played a lot of cards and shot a lot of bull.

There was also a minute man force. These were men, usually, who didn't stand guard shifts but did agree to be armed pretty much 24 / 7. They had pre-planned posts and team and trained once or twice week. The most common gun for a minuteman was a 12 guage shotgun with deer slugs. Many had handguns as well mostly .357 or .44 magnum revolvers. In short they were typical IL deer hunters.

The third level of defense was the 'militia', this was more or less everyone else in town that could beg borrow or steal a weapon of some kind. There were a lot .22 rifles and bird guns of every description. Muzzle loading rifles were not uncommon, even compound bows and cross bows.


The trucks from the North shouldered their way through the gate and into the church parking lot, or more accurately into a hornet's nest. All that was left at the church was 'Militia' not the ever armed 'Minute Men' but many were armed anyway. A hail of lead poured towards the invading trucks, everything from trap loads to .22 LR of all manner to exotic heavy metal shotgun loads to deer slugs to handgun bullets and high power rifle bullets.

Wendy had taken cover in the cemetery side yard to the church behind a large grave stone. She flipped the safety on her M1 Garand forward and fired through the passenger side window of a marauding dump truck at 40 yards. The 125 grain soft point whizzed just past the face of the gang member in the passenger seat trying to light a firebomb. It hit the driver squarely in the jaw, essentially ripping his face off. The truck swerved into another truck and crashed just as the passenger got his firebomb lit. The old Jack Daniels whiskey bottle broke open in the cab spilling the mix of gasoline and paint thinner. It ignited instantly.

Then the fight was over. Two dump trucks were crashed, one of them burning. The men who had crouched in the back of the trucks hoping to cause mayhem were dead or dying. Another dump truck managed to follow the armored truck and head out of town with shattered window and several flattened tires. Later it was found abandoned outside of town, several bodies in the bed. There were two towns people slightly injured. Dr Hill looked at the wounds and assured the wounded their injuries were minor.

In less than 15 minutes all the fighting in town was over. Many of the towns people even returned to Easter service. Once service was over an after action review was held. In general it was decided the towns plans had worked. A motion was made to give Jim 4 full propane cylinders as bonus for the plan he's helped devise months back. Jim tried to decline but the people would have none of it. In the end Jim accepted them and discretely passed them to the Pastor of the Methodist Church.

Jim and the Neighbors re-acquainted themselves. They had known each other casually from shooting matches and attending tactical training together. The two groups chatted together and even convoyed back most of the way. Nobody knew the groups were within a few miles of each other before today.

There was a big dinner at in the Horse Office, canned ham cooked with canned pineapple and a sweet bread made with the juice from the canned pineapple.


The neighbors took stock of their seed collection. Being true survivalists they had a decent collection. Corn, beans, radishes, carrots, turnips, squash and pumpkins. Not having ever started tomatoes or peppers from seed they arranged a trade with the folks at The Pitts some tomatoes seeds and pinto bean seeds for started peppers and tomatoes. The small ford tractor with a plow and disk and harrow made prepping the ground easy. Much of their property was along the Spoon River and prone to flooding. This had lowered the price of the land and had the added benefit of being quite fertile. Fortunately this year was not a flooding year.

They worked hard in the garden that spring and summer doing a lot of the work by hand to save precious fuel. Being close to the river they carried bucket upon bucket of water to irrigate the plants. It was amazing how tasty radishes or carrots with a little dirt from the ground were. And the fresh green peas were enough to set mouths watering.

Keeping close tabs on the stored food , with the garden and game and fish from the river they wouldn’t starve anytime soon. Guard duty was tedious especially every third day. They changed the schedule to one person on 6 to noon , another noon to six and a couple overnight 6 pm to 6 am. On Sundays two couples would go to town for Church. A swap meet of sorts had sprung up on Sunday afternoons. There was a rumor that grid power might be back. There were also disturbing rumors. From the north there were rumors of outlaw motorcycle clubs.

Many evenings the engineering geek in the Neighbors came out. They chatted by CB with Brian Stark and Ray Bridge at the Pitts. They were discussing the construction of a press to extract oil from soybeans. Soybean oil could be used to stretch diesel fuel, converted to bio-diesel if some other things could be found or just used to fry food.


The Gill - Stark partnership decided to just plant the acreage adjacent to the Pitts. There wasn't a market for a lot of grain at the moment. They would triple the patch of Hopi Blue corn. They made a trade of Hopi Blue seed with a seed dealer for hard wheat seed. Mark and Brian had never done wheat before but it would be of the most use in the immediate future.

It might be an ugly year, they were putting down little in the way of herbicide, pesticide or fertilizer. But they had additional hands to walk the beans for weeds. Could you even walk wheat they wondered?


Rylee, Christa, Scott and Willie were picking raspberries out by the road. . The girls had taken some extra small pairs of the odd colored BDU's and cut them into shorts for this warm spring day. As usual they were armed. Christa had her PSL, how she managed to haul the beast everywhere was a mystery. Rylee had an 870 in 20 gauge and her treasured Sig P6 on her hip. Being manly men of 18 now Scott and Willie had their dad's plain M1 Garands, as opposed to the race Garands with optics. Also as normal since it happened, Rylee had a GMRS radio.

They were having a good time picking the sweet berries near the road. The afternoon would be spent making jam or better yet fruit chews from the berries.

They paused a second hearing a couple really loud trucks up at the road. The rasberrys were a bit back from the road so they only caught a glimpse of the vehicles. Vehicle traffic was pretty rare in they days since it happened but not totally unheard of. They didn't turn down the road to the Pitts.

"Is that yelling?" Scott asked a few minutes later.

Christa cocked her head, "That sounds like Mr Deiter ..."

"Come on!" it was Rylee, "Let's see if he's ok."

"Ry! Wait!" called Scott but she was already moving. "At least call it in!" The others followed.

Next they heard a shot and sound of a bellowing cow. Looking down into Mr Dieter's pasture. Two strange pickups were there along with 4 men. One of Dieter's cows was on the ground thrashing and bellowing. Mr Dieter was advancing towards the men, revolver out.

One of the men raised a rifle and fired. Dieter fired, blueish white smoke coming from his black powder revolver. The man who'd fired the rifle pitched forward clutching his hip. The other men fired now.

Rylee was on the radio calling to the lookout in the Scale House.

Another of the three clutched his shoulder, more smoke from Dieters big cowboy revolver. Then Dieter pitched backwards. One of the uninjured shaggy men advanced towards him. "I'm gunna gut this old man he bellowed."

In the distance Dieter's wife Trudy screamed. The radio squacked. Christa's rifle boomed. Rylee, Scott and Willie jumped.

Christa had dropped to a hasty sitting position. The 175 grain boat tailed hollow point bullet left the muzzle of her PSL at just over 2700 feet per second. It hit the man squarely in center of mass, dropping him in his tracks.

The remaining un-injured man got into a truck followed by the injured men. The truck sped across the pasture towards the broken fence. Christa put three more rounds into the truck, managing only to break a window as far as they could tell.

Someone from the lookout was screaming through the radio for the kids to get back to the Pitts but they were running towards Dieter. Rylee got there first.

Blood, so much blood. Rylee put her hand on a hole in his thigh, Willie was there next seeing the blood coming through Rylee's fingers he took off his wide nylon riggers belt. He set a tourniquet with it. Scott had his Garand up and scanning now

By now Chrisa's dad Ray arrived, he'd been on watch in one of the paintball bunkers. He had his 'race' configured M1 Garand. Behind him came Jim Pierce on a 4 wheeler.

They called for Dr Hill, she brought her veterinarian truck. Jim Pierce put a quik clot trauma dressing on the wound and released the tourniquet. More adults from the Pitts arrived and the teens were sent back. Willie and Scott went into the paintball bunkers increasing the folks in each to three. The original day watch had been supplemented with another and then another. The teenage boys didn't have full on gear but two M1 Garands with 8 round loaded, another 24 rounds in the pouches on the stock couldn't hurt if things went south.

Rylee got Christa who was in a bit of shock to her parents trailer. It was surreal people were heading to defensive positions just as her dad had planned. She stopped by her parents trailer. She traded the shotgun for her cut down Brazilian mauser. Rylee changed into long bdu pants and put 4 extra magazines for her 9mm Sig in a thigh pocket. She hefted the small pack with a few days worth of supplies. Finally she headed to the horse barn where she'd be with Wendy and Lisa Gill. Her dad was so smart - all the trailers could be spread all over the Pitts.

Dr. Hill had him taken to his house and placed on a stainless steel prep area in Trudy's kitchen. Dieter had been given something to reduce the pain. She probed and found a through and through wound. She packed it with dressing and gave a large dose of serious anti biotic.

Talking with Trudy and her grandson James it was decided to move to the Pitts. Jim had examined the dead man, he had a biker tattoo. Rumor was the biker 'clubs' had become either more dangerous over the winter and into the spring.

Crews began loading things by late afternoon. The cattle were taken to a horse pasture, the dead cow would be butchered in the morning. The mules were walked over. Dieter and Trudy had a horse , well mule, trailer with a camper half. They could live in that. It would be crowed in there so Phil's trailer, which was still by one of the lakes would be brought up in a few days. Once it was up Trudy and Dieter would live there, and James could enjoy relative luxury half a trailer all to himself.

They had a surprising amount of storable food, self rising flour, beans, canned meat, dry peas.


Over night a party of three rode horses into town of Moss to report the shooting. Moss had a county sheriff's department outpost. They reported to an older man at a desk. "We'll send an officer out in the morning or maybe the day after." The old man said.


One of the remaining sheriff's deputies rode up on a Yamaha 4 wheeler. He looked at the heavy duty chain, then looked for a way around it. He found the three inch steel pipes set into the ground that made an effective but discreet barrier. He called in on his radio and began to step across the barrier.

By now Jim had moved from one of the paintball bunkers. "Hold on officer. I'll unlock the chain and you can ride to the next gate."

"Thanks sir, but can I trouble you to leave the rifle there?"

Jim looked down at his AR, "I'm a retired officer, you want to call my badge in?"

"Ah no I guess that's ok, do you have to sit out here all night? In a foxhole or something?" The officer looked around, he had no idea he was under no less than two guns and once he got closer to the second gate he was under 5 guns.

"Something like that." Jim called ahead and took the young officer to the scale house. "You can leave your scooter here at this gate, it's a pain in the butt to open and close it."

He interviewed Dieter first and then each of the teens while their parents looked on. Once he was done he told Christa's parents, "I'd like to take her back to town with me."

Ray exploded, "No way in hell!"

"Sir you really don't have much of a choice in the matter."

Jim stepped in and took the officer aside. "Son do you really think that's a good idea?"

The officer thought about it, then he got on his radio. He seemed to get an earful from the chief. His face turned red. "Sir we'll send someone out if we have more questions." He fired up the four wheeler and headed back to town.
Have your musket clean as a whistle, hatchet scoured, sixty rounds powder and ball, and be ready to march at a minute's warning.

Appleseeds Project - Common folks teaching other common folks to shoot uncommonly well

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Re: Chapter from another story I wrote

Post by bodyparts » Sun Dec 17, 2017 6:36 pm

that is pretty dag good thanks for posting it .

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Re: Chapter from another story I wrote

Post by 91Eunozs » Sun Dec 17, 2017 11:09 pm

Concur... fun read. Definitely gonna need some back story on this one.
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woodsghost wrote:... A defensive gun without training is basically a talisman. It might ward off evil, but I wouldn't count on it.

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Re: Chapter from another story I wrote

Post by aikorob » Mon Dec 18, 2017 3:55 pm

didn't you post the start of this several years back?
either here or on Baen's?
The Pitts=an old gravel quarry.....or am I getting stories commingled?

either way------MOAR please!
I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they’ve always worked for me.

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Re: Chapter from another story I wrote

Post by wtr100 » Mon Dec 18, 2017 4:28 pm

aikorob wrote:didn't you post the start of this several years back?
either here or on Baen's?
The Pitts=an old gravel quarry.....or am I getting stories commingled?

either way------MOAR please!
You're correct the whole mess is at ( I'm on a two week time out there right now )
Have your musket clean as a whistle, hatchet scoured, sixty rounds powder and ball, and be ready to march at a minute's warning.

Appleseeds Project - Common folks teaching other common folks to shoot uncommonly well

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Re: Chapter from another story I wrote

Post by Dark_Rhodes » Tue Jan 02, 2018 10:36 pm

I like it, very entertaining. Keeps me wanting to read more.

Positive feedback.

Flesh out your protagonists and antagonists a little more.

IE: As written: " Wendy had taken cover in the cemetery side yard to the church behind a large grave stone."

Your reader doesn't have much to go on about who Wendy is. Therefore, they cannot take "ownership" of her.

If you describe the grain count on the bullets, do this with your characters.

With more reader ownership: "Wendy shook the sweat and her dark brown hair out of her eyes as she took cover behind a large gravestone in the church's side cemetery."

Now your audience can take ownership of her. She's sweating, meaning she's hyped up, or scared, or she just exerted herself to get where she needs to be to help her friends. They know she has long, dark brown hair. This helps them build a visual image of Wendy in their mind. You don't need to describe her down to the length of her toenails, just enough to give them something to build off of. Your Main Character is the only one you need extreme detail on.

As written: "The driver of the Armored truck was jacked up on crank and thought he could bull his way through."

With more reader ownership:"The armored truck driver attempted to stop the crank-induced tremors in his thin arms by gripping the wheel tighter, as he tried to bull his way through."

With this description, your readers know the guy driving is a junkie. It gives them a foundation to build on. This guy isn't a main character, so this is as deep as you need to go. Let your audience fill in the blanks. Makes me picture one of the guys from Trainspotting.

Hope this doesn't sound too preachy, or pushy.

Keep writing, let's see more!


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