The 11 a.m. meeting included every adult in camp, minus Beatrice, who watched after the kids corralled in her home.
The update from Jim was sobering to most in attendance. The Baker group was making good time and would start the climb up Raton Pass in two days.
“Unless they are somehow derailed, we have today and tomorrow to prepare for a mid- to late-afternoon arrival the next day, possibly sooner if their forward scouts come to look for their missing comrades,” he told us.
“We have a lot of property up here, and we can’t protect all sides from a possible attack,” interjected David, “so we have to bet the farm on the most likely scenario, should they come this far off the road.
“We have only two likely scenarios if they come over. First is the river crossing down where we brought over the trailers, and second is a higher river crossing with only foot soldiers and no heavy equipment. The likelihood of them coming over the ridge from behind, as James did, is unlikely, keeping in mind, of course, that anything is possible.”
“We can’t cover everything,” I added, “so we might as well cover the river and give them a fight if it truly comes down to it.
“What about Ronna’s group?” I asked Jim. “Any word on them?”
“They are running about a day behind intentionally, keeping a distance between the two groups. One more thing,” added Jim. “We heard from the Colonel this morning. He is aware of the movement of both factions and is closely monitoring the situation.”
“That’s good news,” replied Jake. “It never hurts to have the United States military in your back pocket.”
“And Vlad, the Colonel wants you alone on the line in exactly 34 minutes from right now,” added Jim.
We spent the next twenty minutes talking defense strategies along the river, all vowing not to let “pseudo soldiers,” as Mike called them, across the river. After hearing stories from Mike, Nate and Katie about the consequences the women in our group would likely face, it was easy to have everyone on the same page.
It was agreed that every possible shooter, weapon, and ammunition can would be on hand near the river’s edge, in several locations if need be.
“Joy,” announced Mel, “I have a confession of sorts.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“We only used part of my fireworks stash getting your boys back. Now before you get mad at me, I provided more than enough to create two major disturbances in getting your boys home safe.”
Joy stood and paused, with every adult nervously awaiting her response.
“Mel,” she stated bluntly.
“Yes, Joy?” he responded hesitantly.
“Mel, do you have any more of those annoying Screaming Serpents?”
“Three entire boxes,” he stated, starting to smile cautiously. “And more of the big ones also,” he added, hesitating just a bit.
“I figured as much,” replied Joy, smiling. “We’ve risked too much to lose now. When I ask, you tell me how many, Mel. Okay?”
“Uhhh…yeah, I guess if we really need to know.”
“We do,” she replied, staring right in his eyes. “Big fireworks?”
“Twenty-five, or maybe 30,” he replied quickly.
“Drones?”
“Two, ma’am.”
“Sticks of dynamite?”
“Well, that’s um…kind of....”
“How many?!” she asked again.
“Eight. There are eight left.”
“Hand grenades? Just kidding,” she said, as he blurted out “Six!”
“Really?” Jake asked.
“Maybe,” replied Mel. “Who’s asking?”
“We all are now!” I interjected.
“Then, yes, there would be six of those.”
I had never seen one up close, but I once shot a grenade launcher with a pretend grenade and was surprised at how accurate it was, just lobbing the object over the creek we were shooting across back in the day.
“What else?” Joy asked.
“That’s about it for firepower, besides the M60s.”
Vlad’s eyes lit up. “Did you say M60s, as in more than one?!” he asked.
“Yes,” Mel replied, not elaborating.
“What’s that?” Joy asked me quietly.
“It’s a big-ass machine gun that shoots like 600 rounds of ammo per minute,” I whispered back. “They call it the Pig because some say it sounds like a pig grunting when it’s fired. It’s a pretty big deal in defense, like having ten or more shooters at once, but it can take more than one person to handle.”
“Is it that heavy?” she asked.
“Well, no,” I answered, “but feeding it through the belt ammo can sometimes require another person. It could be a game-changer, though, in a real crisis.”
“Anything else, Mel?” asked Joy.
“In relation to defense, I have gear, including some bulletproof vests, depending on the caliber it’s trying to stop, of course. Also helmets and enough camo to blend us all into the forest.”
“How about a tank? Mel, do you have a tank?” asked a joking Joy.
“No. That would be awesome, but I do have two anti-tank weapons I bought five years ago. I can’t guarantee their viability. It’s a last resort, for sure, as they can just as easily eliminate the person firing them in a misfire. Let’s agree now—let’s not even consider them unless it’s a last resort.”
“All agreed, say ‘Aye,’” he asked. All agreed.
* * * * * * *
Chapter Nine
Raton Pass, New Mexico
“How much did all this cost?” asked Jake, with the question we all wanted an answer to.
“Since it doesn’t matter anymore, before the cost of my house I spent the majority of my nest egg, totaling 3.4 million.”
“How did you have that kind of money?” asked Vlad, as nothing seemed too personal anymore.
“Well, I lived in Raton, New Mexico, my entire life,” said Mel, “and only moved up to Raton Pass in recent years. I was a proud bachelor that didn’t have time for children or a wife. Having been in swimming
