The first snow fell on October 20th. Of course, it
had to happen when Larry had roadblock duty. The
wind was picking up and reduced visibilty. It
would be worse when Larry took his second shift of
the day at night. The only good thing was that
the shifts were reduced from 4 to 3 hours with the
addition of more troops.
Al and Larry shivered by the gate on the south end
of the bridge on M-53. Two new recruits, both who
had been refugees two months ago, had the duty down
the road. One new improvement was an hard-wired
intercom that connected all posts.
"Don't you just love this weather?", asked Al. "Makes
me enjoy guard duty so much more." "Yeah," answered
Larry, "I found a home in the militia. Soon as
this shift is over, let's check the horses." Al
smiled, "Oh yeah? Brought some of that apple-jack?"
"Yep,", Larry winked, "aged a solid week." "Sounds
good to me.", replied Al.
The quiet was then shattered with a pair of screams
from the forward post. Larry and Al squatted behind
the drums and peered through the snow. They saw
several white-clad figures standing over the bodies
of their comrades. Larry hit the panic button, sounding
the alarm. Al drew a bead on one figure with his
Remington 700. Many a deer had been fallen by this
weapon, but now, Al shot his first human.
Larry saw the figure go down, then fired a series
of rapid shots with his Garand. He thought he saw
one go down, but couldn't be sure if he connected.
The aggressors had taken cover behind the drums.
A dozen fellow militiamen rushed to their position.
Kevin Harper and Deputy Tom Davis scampered towards the bridge
while the rest split up for the two earthworks.
Over the intercom, Harper called Larry and Al.
"What'ya see?", Harper barked. "Maybe a half dozen
dressed in white ponchos at the forward post. We
have two men down, probably dead. One badguy down,
maybe two." Larry waited after making his report.
There was nothing happening. The silence was eerie
and nerve racking. Al and Larry's heart's were
racing. On the northside of the bridge, Harper
worked his handheld 2-meter radio, reporting to
HCM headquarters. Deputy Davis went for his bullhorn.
"Man, we gotta get out of here!", said Al. "You got
that right, buddy.", replied Larry. He took a fresh
clip out of his bandolier and placed it at a handy spot
next to him. Larry figured he had maybe two or three
rounds to go before the Garand was empty. The badguys
were lying low and still had not returned fire.
Larry was wondering if they had any guns. They may have
jumped the forward team and used knives. The badguys
now, at the least had the look-out's weapons and ammo.
The waiting ended when Deputy Davis called out with
his bullhorn. "This is the Huron County Militia.
You people are ordered to surrender now. Lay down
your weapons and stand up with your arms over your
heads. And take off those white ponchos!" Harper then
came on the intercom. "Larry, Al, we're coming up."
Al kept looking forward, while Larry acknowledged
and turn to watch Harper, Davis, and two others
sprint across the bridge towards them.
The badguys started shooting. Larry watched as
his comrades ducked behind the drums at the mid-point
of the bridge, some twenty yards behind them. Al
cracked off two shots, causing one badguy he could
make out to hide behind a drum. Larry now looked
forward and emptied his rifle at them. He quickly
reloaded. By now, silence returned. Everything was
going in slow motion.
With the deputy and another covering, Harper and another
crawled forward to the south end of the bridge.
"Glad you could make it.", Larry said. Harper
ignored the remark and issued orders. "Okay, we're
gonna open fire so the others can make it up here.
Get ready. Now!" All four men then began firing.
Al only got off two shots before being forced to
reload. Larry emptied his weapon. Harper and the
other militiaman both had AR-15s with 30 round clips.
They fired a series of burts.
Things got crowded behind the drums at the south gate.
Neither Larry nor Al minded. Everyone reloaded
and Harper spelled out the plan. "We're gonna flush
them out. When the rest of you open up, Larry and I
will slip down the drainage ditch on the right. We'll
make our way forward and force them to the left."
Larry wasn't keen on the whole idea. But he nodded
and made himself ready. With a hail of gunfire pinning the
badguys down, Larry and Kevin crawled around the drums
and slid down the ditch on the right. The snow made
it easy. So far, so good. Kevin took the lead, with
Larry about three yards behind. As their friends reloaded,
the badguys returned fire. It sounded like only two
guns, which made Larry suspect that this bunch was
using the captured arms. Neither of the recruits
had pistols. Both had been outfitted with old mausers.
As the two militiamen approached the first set of drums,
some twenty yards from the bridge, Kevin motioned Larry
to get behind them. The next set was on the left
side of the road ten yards away. Kevin explained that
he was going to move up the ditch another twenty
yards to to next set on the right. About half way
there, he'd let loose a gernade, then charge forward.
When he would fire his rifle, Larry would then move
up to the drums on the right.
Kevin radioed to the others to get ready. He then
slipped back down the ditch when the deputy and his team
began firing. Larry hunkered down, now more afraid
of being hit from the rear than by the badguys.
He postioned himself half in the ditch and half
behind the drum, rifle aimed to the south. He watched
Kevin crawl forward, then stop short of the next drums.
The gernade was well thrown. It dropped about two
or three yards south of the next row of drums. When
it exploded, Kevin scampered out of the ditch and
crouched behind the drums. He then began firing his
rifle. As Larry darted forward, he saw two men in
white dash away. Large red blotches quickly appeared
on their clothing. They tumbled and fell. Kevin
ducked to reload and Larry now rested his rifle
on the top of a drum and searched for targets.
He saw their two fallen comrades sprawled out in
pools of blood, clearly visible in the snow. One of
the men Kevin had hit started to move. Larry pumped
two rounds into him. One of the mausers was now visible.
That left one unaccounted for. Larry now fixed his
gaze on the row of drums to the left, a mere ten yards
away. A person popped up with the other mauser.
Larry fired three shots. He watched as one round
took the top of the man's skull off.
Kevin saw this, now reloaded and ready. He unpinned
another gernade and tossed it behind the last set of drums.
After it exploded, he rushed forward. There was
some groans, but they fell silent as Kevin popped off
two aimed bursts. He then turned back and waved.
Larry advanced and saw the bodies close up. A groan
came from the ditch on the left. As Larry and Kevin
approached it, they saw another badguy, wounded.
"Don't shoot! I give up!", he cried out. Deputy Davis
and the others were now on the scene. He searched
the last survivor, who had been shot by Larry at the
very beginning. Davis interrogated him and learned
that he and his five partners had escaped a refugee
camp before dawn, some twenty miles away. Their
white ponchos turned out to be bedsheets from their cots.
Armed only with splivs fashioned from spoons, their
plan was to head north where they heard there were
fewer people and more food.
Davis sent men back to the house for his evidence
kit, with which he photographed and fingerprinted
each of the badguys. Using the 2-meter radio, he
contacted headquarters. Jenkins instructed Davis
to "finish the job". Davis looked uncomfortable
with that. Harper stepped forward and fired one
round into the man's head. "He killed our own.",
was all Harper said to Davis as he walked away.
Davis never worked roadblock duty again.
The material you have just read is a chapter in the on-line fictional story, "When Autumn Leaves Fall" by Andrew Zarowny, copyrighted 1997. All characters and circumstances are fictional and are not intended to bare any resemblence to actual people alive or dead. You have the author's permission to copy or reproduce this material so long as you charge no money for it's reproduction or distribution.