The Cataclysm Scroll -- a sneak peek
The old Jeep crested a ridge in the road and Ty noticed a small group of people packed up near the bottom of the valley, where the road crossed a two-lane bridge and went back up a hill on its other side. He knew immediately what it could be. And they were just a hundred yards up the road in front. Robbers and thieves, highwaymen waiting to take whatever they could from passers-by.
Laura and Mahkah also saw the small band, several sitting on four-wheelers. And everyone in the Jeep saw the guns being displayed by the men on the ATV’s at the same time. Ty hit the brakes and clutch at the same time, downshifted to third gear, and looked at the ditch off to his right. It wasn’t a deep ditch, but might roll them if he crossed it too quickly or at the wrong angle. It all happened so fast that nobody had time to say anything while Ty looked for ways out of the possibly dire situation.
He jerked the wheel on the Cherokee and drove at the ditch, careful to hit it at an angle that took it on almost at a straight 90 degrees. The sudden jolt when the front end dipped into the ditch, then back out again so quickly, all three of the passengers were tossed up and out of their seats. Ty’s head hit the ceiling, Laura was grabbing at the strap on the inside upright windshield strut that was there for a reason, and Mahkah was thrown across the rear seat.
The Jeep bottomed out, dragging its skid plates across the dirt as the rear tires and axle hit the bottom of the ditch, then began clawing their way to the top. Ty hit the clutch, went down to second gear, leaned forward and grabbed the four-wheel-drive lever. He pulled up quickly, but as the Jeep bounced, his head went forward into the unpadded steering wheel. He saw stars for a second when his head bounced off the wheel, but he maintained control and let out the clutch as the Jeep tried to do what it was designed for.
Laura screamed out of surprise, the hard bounce almost forcing it out of her. Mahkah fought to get upright in his seat to see what the men on the ATV’s were doing.
“They’re coming!” he shouted to Ty.
Laura glanced back down the road and exclaimed, “Go! Go! Go!”
Ty hit the gas as the Jeep found some traction and all four tires began to grab. They were headed in to a soybean field, the kernels of beans hitting the windshield as the bumper buzzed through the two foot-high stalks. Ty’s window was down and he could hear the engines revving as the ATV’s came up the hill at them.
“Mahkah,” Ty shouted, “open my case with the M1A and toss my tac vest up here! Hand the rifle to Laura!” He knew he had to stay out in front of the small four-wheelers long enough to get the rifle readied. But running crossways to the furrows was really bumpy and he couldn’t get up any speed in this direction. He turned a bit to the right to run within the rows, hopefully giving Mahkah less bounce to contend with while getting the firepower out.
It was a bit smoother in this direction, so he shifted to third gear and pressed down on the gas. This also served to put distance between he and the highwaymen, although he figured they could run as fast through the field as the Jeep could. But there would be fewer of them to contend with. He’d only remembered seeing a couple ATV’s.
Mahkah threw the tactical vest forward next to Ty and it landed on the parking brake lever. Then he handed the M1A to Laura, banging its barrel on the ceiling of the Jeep. But in just a few seconds, she was holding it across her lap, looking as if she had no idea what to do with this strange piece of equipment. Ty groped for the tac vest next to him, found it and ripped open one of the magazine compartments.
“You two get down!” he ordered. “I’m going to stop and see if I can’t convince them we don’t have anything they want!” Laura bent over forward and got as low as she could, Mahkah lay down on the rear seat. Ty turned the Jeep to the left, hard, preparing to stop.
He slammed on the brakes, moved the shifter to neutral and yanked up on the parking brake all at the same time as the Jeep lurched to a stop. Ty grabbed the rifle from Laura’s grasp and jumped out of the Cherokee, inserting the magazine in the big semi-auto and clicked it in to place as he ran around the grill and took a position putting the front of the Jeep between he and the ATV’s.
He jerked the bolt to chamber one of the .308 rounds.
He saw three ATV’s in all, each with two men on it. He saw the barrels of several rifles and shotguns waving around toward the sky. He wasn’t concerned about the shotguns at this range, about fifty yards, but he had no way of knowing what they were packing for rifles.
It didn’t really matter to Ty, though. He had the M1A. He brought it up to his shoulder, aiming it directly at the front ATV. Their throttles immediately slowed, two of the three coming to an abrupt stop.
“Hand me more magazines from that vest!” Ty shouted to Laura. She ripped open a few of the pockets and pulled out the metal things Ty had explained about earlier to her. She was glad she’d paid attention. At least, now she knew what a magazine was, and was very eager to help Ty all she could. He’d already saved her life once, and now was trying to do it twice in the same day.
“Drop your guns!” Ty shouted to the ATV drivers. The front ATV hadn’t stopped, and was still coming hard. They couldn’t hear Ty over the sound of their engine, but they could certainly see the big rifle aimed at them.
Ty watched as the passenger of the charging ATV swung his gun barrel at him, effectively using the driver as cover. The gun fired, Ty recognized it as the sound of a shotgun. But the ATV was bumping across the field and the shot wasn’t on-target. Mahkah and Laura both heard pellets hit the Jeep’s side and rear glass.
Then they heard Ty’s M1A open up, firing three quick shots in succession.
All three bullets zipped through the driver, killing him as well as the passenger instantly.
As they fell, the ATV went out of control and flipped, ending its charge upside-down about twenty five yards from the Jeep. Laura and Mahkah heard the crash and wanted to see what was happening, but didn’t want to raise their heads until the shooting was over. They hoped it was.
But it wasn’t.
The passengers on the other two ATV’s both tried to use their drivers as rests for their rifles to steady their shots. But as soon as the drivers realized what was happening, and what their riders were doing, both drivers bailed off their machines leaving those two men exposed.
Both fired their rifles as Ty quickly ducked down behind the front of the Jeep, protecting his legs also by standing directly next to the right-front wheel. The sound of bullets whizzing by told Ty they’d missed, high. He stood up just enough to rest his left elbow on the hood of the Jeep. Ty’s mind was assessing what kind of weapons were shooting at him.
One had sounded like a high-powered rifle, the other like a .22 rimfire. He guessed correctly. But there was no way of knowing if they were single-shots or semi-automatics. His questions were answered as the .22 kept shooting in rapid-fire succession, the little hot balls of lead screaming by him, a few ricocheted off the left fender of the Jeep, one shattered its rear glass. Ty knew the guy was shooting wild, spraying and praying, hoping to hit anything.
Then the other shooter fired his weapon, a bolt action. Ty knew that was the next one that he had to target.
As the man worked the bolt on his rifle to ready another shot, Ty centered him in the peep sight, took a breath and pulled the trigger. The man fell off backwards from the ATV like he’d been hit in the chest with a sack of potatoes, the rifle flying out of his hands.
Then Ty swung the M1A to the guy with the .22, who had stopped to reload another clip. Ty made a mental note that the two drivers were still on the ground, laying face down in the beans. They hadn’t moved, apparently scared stiff from the firefight.
Ty shouted to the man with the .22, “Drop it!”
The .22 came half-way down to the ready, its owner hesitating while wondering what to do. Ty held off pulling the trigger, giving the man a chance to save his own life.
The .22 jerked to the shooter’s shoulder and aimed at Ty.
The second the rifle leveled out in his direction, Ty squeezed the M1A’s trigger once more.
This was an intentional head-shot. He wanted the firefight to end, and he figured the best way to do that was blow the guy’s brains all over the two drivers that were still hugging the ground.
It worked like a charm.
As the limp body dropped off the side of the ATV, both drivers jumped up with their hands high in the air.
“We give up! We give up!” they both shouted in unison.
Excellent work IMHO.
