Dear Diary, It’s Me, Jessica: Chapter 10 (Book 2)

By the Author of Dear Diary: It’s Me, Jessica

Find the previous chapter here.

Dear Diary,

It’s me, Jessica.

We had just made it back to the Northern barrier in the late afternoon.  We made our way to Four Corners proper to find Sean.  Jack filled Sean in on the gang being back and how they abducted Mom, Rae, and me. Sean looked us over, concerned.  With a wave of her hand, Rae just said we were fine.  Sean then call out for Four Corners militia leaders to gather and for others in the militia to North, East and South to reinforce the guards there.  

Once the militia leaders were gathered, Jack repeated what he told Sean.  Once he was done, the air felt thick with worry.  

“So, Jack.  What are you thinking?” Sean asked.

“I need intelligence.  I am taking my team tonight to RECON.  Find their base of operations, their numbers, and anything else we can find out.  He was not expecting us to ambush them on the hill and he ran.  He thinks he knows me.  But things have changed since our last little get-together.”

Several people chuckled.

“Aye.  We have better control over who comes and goes through the gates, and we know just about everyone who does.”

“Right.  I don’t think he has the intelligence of what is inside Four Corners’ defenses and what numbers look like now.  One of his gang would have stuck out to everyone immediately.  I don’t want to be caught like they did us the last time.  We have to take the fight to him.  The sooner the better.”

“Aye.  But I don’t like the sounds of it.”

Jack gave a simple nod of agreement.  

Someone let Mom borrow their bicycle.  Jack was sending her back home to tell the community and half of the militia to stand up and keep watch if the gang tried to, as Jack put it, “make a go at the community.”

The other half of the community militia was to get to Four Corners as fast as they could.

A bicycle would be faster and a lot quieter than a horse. Jack thought Mom could be on top and even past an ambush before they knew she was there.

Once Jack knew what we were dealing with, we would either return home or remain to help guard Four Corners.  

Before I even got a chance to step up, Jack ordered me to stay at Four Corners as a guard.  He did not want me on the RECON mission.  I knew better than to argue with him.  He gave me one of his grins, and he and the RECON team sat down for dinner.  At dusk, they would set out.  

Sean and the militia set up guard shifts at the gates, but everyone slept at their assigned gate. Rae and I and half of our community militia were welcomed additions to the northern barrier. The days were warm, but the nights were still cool enough to need a jacket or blanket. Both Rae and I wore winter hats to keep our heads and ears warm.  

Rae, I, and some others were awakened by the middle night guard shift to take the late, pre-dawn twilight night shift.  They passed word that there had been no activity all night and no sign of the RECON team.  We thanked them as they settled in their bedrolls to catch a nap before dawn broke the horizon, still an hour or so away.  

Rifles pointed out the shattered windows and bullet-pocked barrier from the Battle of Four Corners and the firefight with the cult, we scanned the road before us.  

“You are thinking something, Rae.  I can almost hear it,” I said in low tones as not to disturb those still sleeping.

After a long pause, Rae said, “This feels different.  Dangerous.  Jack said we have to take the fight to them.  I do not disagree with his thinking, but chicken and biscuits, I do not like it.”

“Chicken and biscuits is right.”

“Jessica, I want you to sit this one out.  Hear me out.  We have been through a lot together.  You have proven yourself.  You are also the future.  Your parents, Jack, I, Sean, and others are closer to fifty than we are to thirty.  If the community of Four Corners is going to survive, we need and they need young people like you.  No more unnecessary risks.”

“Is there such a thing as a necessary risk?”

Even in the dark, I could feel her giving me one of her “looks.”

“Okay, okay.  I was kidding.”

As we continued our watch, pre-dawn twilight was approaching to the East.  I could hear a few birds begin to fly about and sing.  There was the distant sound of the river to the West in the gorge as the waters rushed past.  The sky continued to lighten, and the stars disappeared from the Eastern sky.  The smell of smoke was in the air as the people of Four Corners who were not a part of the militia started cooking fires for breakfast.  

We heard a low two-tone whistle and then a pause in the dark beyond the barrier.  Then the same two-tone whistle again.  It was Jack’s signal the RECON team had returned.  We quickly passed the word to others down the barrier line of the RECON teams’ return and to make weapons “safe.”  Rae responded to Jack with a low three, long, same tones, signaling she knew he was there and it was all clear to approach the Northern barrier.  

Jack and one other member of the RECON team emerged out of the darkness as they approached.  With a grin, he said, “We located them.”

“I kept two of the RECON team to keep watch and double time it back if they made a move,” Jack said cross legged on the ground, still in his Ghillie suit as he ate scrambled eggs, meat, and potato hash out of his camp foldable bowl and spork.  The sun had just broken the horizon and was slowly rising into the sky.  Sean, the militia leaders, and several others stood around him.  He took a sip of hot tea and continued.“He put a few of his guys at the house they occupied before with lights as a distraction and lookouts.  He set up his main body just to the North in the woods.  The smell of their cooking fires gave them away.”

Jack set his bowl down, pulled out his long, fixed-blade knife, and began to draw in the dirt Old River Road North, the homes overlooking the river, and the gang’s base in the woods.

“He has not recovered men from the Battle of Four Corners.  But from what I saw, they still have body armor, communications, some medium weapons, and grenade launchers.”

“Jack, how did you see all that in the dark?” Sean asked.

“I spent an hour and a half in the dark, crawling down to get within listening distance of them.  Then another three hours crawling around their base to get eyes-on their numbers and weapons.”

“Aye,” Sean simply nodded.  

“We will march up Old River Road till this point at the bend, still out of sight of the homes,” he pointed with his knife.  “Teams Alpha and Bravo will then turn and have to hump it up the hills here.  Alpha will approach quietly down the hill from the East with four grenadiers and half a dozen marksmen on the hill to fire down on the camp and act as overwatch.  Team Bravo will have to continue through the hills, then down, back across Old River Road, and set up to the North of the camp.  I will take a small team and take out any lookouts in the homes.  Once done, the rest of Team Charlie will use the homes to conceal our approach from the South.  We will have them surrounded.  Teams Alpha and Bravo will have two hours to get into position.  At the appointed time, Charlie will launch the initial attack to distract and draw their attention.  Then Alpha and Bravo will attack, with our remaining machine guns and grenades from the North and East.  His only avenue of retreat is off the cliffs to the West.  We go in hard, we go in heavy.  No quarter taken.  No quarter given.”

“Chicken and biscuits Jack!”

“We end this.  We end it now.”

“When,” Sean asked.  

“We march as soon as I am done eating.”

I was assigned to team Charlie but in “reserve” with half a dozen others.  We were to hang back unless absolutely needed.  

“Here,” Jack handed me a small olive-drab ammo pouch containing twenty rounds as we made our way back to the northern barrier to meet the rest of the militia and begin our march Northward.  

“What are these?”

“Solid flat nose bullets.  They weigh more and will recoil a bit more than the other bullets you are using.  But even with body armor on a center mass hit, that much kinetic energy, it is going to feel like the world’s strongest man, took a full swing with a twenty-pound sledgehammer directly to the guy on the receiving end’s chest.”  [Editor’s note:  Read a report in Afghanistan of a guy who took a shot from a 7.62x54R PKM.  Even with the body armor, the strongest man and sledgehammer part is how he described it felt.]  Depending on range, shot placement, might knock the wind out of him, break a rib, maybe even make his heart skip a beat.”

“Whoa.  Okay.”

“I hope you don’t have to use them if things go well.”

Jack called for everyone to make a last weapons, ammunition, and equipment check.  Then everyone formed up into their teams, and we passed through the gate and up Old River Road at a fast march.  The bend in the road came much faster than I thought it would.  Jack gave the hand signal for everyone to halt.  Team leaders and key support gathered into a small circle.  Jack had them synchronize their watches, noted the time, and started the clock for two hours from that moment for teams Alpha and Bravo to get into their positions.  The teams set out up the hills.  

Jack took five others, and they crawled into the houses, finding as much cover and concealment as they could to take out the lookouts. Two of them had crossbows, leaving their rifles with us. They signaled when it was all clear for us to approach.  

The signal finally came after a long, tense hour.  

We settled up on the side of the house furthest from the camp.  

Now we had to wait.  

Ten minutes before the second hour was up, team Charlie’s main effort moved up from the front and back of the homes, with us in reserve to hold back at the second-to-last house.  Set up behind whatever cover and concealment they could find, Jack dropped his hand, and Team Charlie opened fire.  

There were shouts from the camp, and then they returned fire.  After five minutes, teams Alpha and Bravo launched their attacks.  Even from a distance, the sounds and concussion of the grenades could be felt in my gut.  

Jack held Charlie back so as not to get caught in Alpha or Bravo’s crossfire.  Several short volleys of machine gun fire and another volley of grenades.  A few trees fell.  The gunfire slowed to a few single shots from different directions, then silence.  All the return fire from the camp had stopped.  The air was thick with the smell of gunfire.  

Jack signaled for a ceasefire.  Those who could see Jack’s sign repeated and passed the ceasefire signal.  Jack gave the signal for Charlie to move into the camp while us reserves moved up to where they had just been.  

I took up a position behind a short brick wall that enclosed the house’s back patio.  There was about thirty yards of overgrown lawn, then the treeline to the woods, and the camp just beyond.  It was hard to see through the trees, but I could make out several tents.  We all kept our rifles ready, but did not aim even in the general direction of the camp out of fear of accidentally hitting one of our own.

There was a shout.  Then a few shots.  More shouting followed by more shots.  Then silence.  

Then I saw one of the gang hidden himself under one of the fallen trees.  He stood up, aimed his rifle at someone.  I did not think.  I just did.  I stood up and did a snapshot a second after he began shooting.  

Jack was right.  The ammunition he gave me had more than just a little additional recoil.  Rather than the mild push I was used to, it was more like someone punched me in the shoulder.  But the result was pretty much like Jack described it would be.  The bullet slammed right into his body armor in between his shoulder blades throwing him down violently.  Out of habit I racked the rifle action and aimed at the empty space where he stood just a moment ago.  One of Charlie quickly walked up with his rifle aiming downward at what I guessed where the gang member laid.  He kicked something, then took a single shot.  After a moment he called out, “All clear!”

Someone else began to shout,

“Man down!  Man down!”  

There was a rush of activity as something was going on I could not see.  

Then two men were on either side of a third, with his head down, carrying him out of the woods.  

It was Jack.

About 1stMarineJarHead

1^stMarineJarHead is not only a former Marine, but also a former EMT-B, Wilderness EMT (courtesy of NOLS), and volunteer firefighter.

He currently resides in the great white (i.e. snowy) Northeast with his wife and dogs. He raises chickens, rabbits, goats, occasionally hogs, cows and sometimes ducks. He grows various veggies and has a weird fondness for rutabagas. He enjoys reading, writing, cooking from scratch, making charcuterie, target shooting, and is currently expanding his woodworking skills.