Gunshots diminished to sporadic blasts by the time I crept back to my group of fighters. I approached Morgan Halcom as three people stood up from behind a ruined fortification with their hands above their heads. One of them waved a piece of white cloth tied to the end of a rifle barrel. Morgan and Barlow Jones took aim and dropped all three. We had agreed no quarter would be given. I tried to swallow the big lump lingering in my throat, but it didn't go down. It was hard to overcome old teachings and ethics that once stood for a way of life. But those were remnants of a past life that was destroyed and gone forever. We'd been forced to deal with problems ourselves because no higher authority existed.
Morgan motioned me over. "While you were gone, Tony Osmond was hit in the side. The bullet went through clean above his hip and below his ribs. Doc says he'll be okay." I nodded, glad Tony's injury wasn't more serious.
Slowly, all gunfire dwindled away as the morning sun cast rays on the destruction we had wrought. I led the way on clearing out the remaining enemies. Those found wounded and still alive were given a coup de grâce. No one laughed or joked during the commission of the ruthless acts. Rather, we all accepted the harsh measures as necessary for the future safety of peaceful people.
Several of us spun about as a weak voice called out. "Dad, this is Richard. Tell them not to shoot me. I'm behind a short landscape wall below the building that burned. I'm raising my gun so you can see where I'm at. I'm wounded." Richard still had the wet suit on. He'd been shot in the right thigh. To stanch the flow of blood, he'd cut a piece of shirt off a dead woman to hold against both sides of his leg where a bullet had gone in and out. I called the injury into Ira, and in less than a minute Carmen ran past me to reach her husband. Several of our people went to Richard and helped carry him back to Ira's position.
The fires at the charred remains of the training center had burned down except for small areas that still smoldered and flared from time to time. The smell of cooked meat permeated the air, and several charred bodies littered the blackened debris.
We devised a plan to clear the cabins. We split into groups of five and then headed for the lake. At each cabin, two people stayed behind the cover of the outer log walls. They jammed their rifles through windows and fired into the rooms as the front door was breached, and the cabin was invaded. The fifth person covered the back entrance of those units with a back door. After we'd cleared the twelfth cabin a total of four more enemies had been terminated. The lump in my throat refused to go away. I'm sure many others felt the same way. Vigilantism is a means to an end, but not to be taken lightly.
We scoured the cabins and two sheds behind the training building. To the victors go the spoils personified our attitude as we scrounged for anything of value to us as a group. As far as I knew, no one took personal items like jewelry or keepsakes. We took what could help our group survive in the future. As expected, there as an adequate supply of food stuffs, a large amount of ammunition and some fuel we could use. We'd picked up firearms from our dead enemies and kept the ones we wanted. The others were tossed in the lake to keep other scoundrels from using them.
We loaded our pickup beds with all they would hold and used two of Ridder's pickups and trailers to carry the rest.
Near dark that evening, we drive up the dusty drive to Willie's place. The first question Mable asked was, "Did anyone get hurt." She and Shandrea cried upon hearing we'd lost two people and that three had been wounded. They both gasped and ran to Richard as he slid out of a truck with a bandage on his leg.
Before supper, we took time to wash up and change clothes. The smoke and smell of death permeated our clothing and hair, and I wanted to be free of those reminders of our hard-won battle and the price our departed people had paid.
After supper, we sat around a bonfire and heard details of the attack from individual points of view. We learned how Paige and Carmen had been captured down near the lake when they responded to an injury and turned in the wrong direction.
Ed and Richard received special praise for the heroism they'd shown in attacking a much larger force and creating a turning point in the battle by attacking on a new front.
Finally a group prayer was said for James Butler and Irene Margherio. We all turned in for a fitful night of sleep. Early the next morning, we packed what the Jones family chose to take with them before heading for Deliverance. We were pleased to have the small herd of hogs to feed the group.
That night, the temperature felt cool, but the air was calm. My family sat outside as the sun hovered slightly above the tree tops, giving up its last warmth of the day. We'd talked at length, covering details of our battle with Ridder's forces. Dominique was wrapped snuggly and held by Kira while I cradled Tom Jr. We sat on a wood bench and leaned against the metal building that was our communal home. Paige sat on the ground in front of us. Kira smiled proudly when Paige and I recounted the personal conflict
