Carrying On - Cover

Carrying On

Copyright© 2010 by Harold Wainwright

Chapter 39

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 39 - As the world begins to fall apart outside the fences of the family farm, a family must decide their own fate, and decide how much of the world at large they can save.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Post Apocalypse   DomSub  

There is nothing more frightening to a soldier, than turning to find a comrade missing that had just been with him a moment before. And as this began happening all up and down the line while the Militia advanced, the resolve began to fall away from some of the men. It started on the flanks, the men on the end of the line would look around and realize that their buddy who had just stood next to them was missing. Shots were fired blindly into the thick underbrush, despite the order not to fire unless a target was present.

In two cases men disappeared in the middle of the line, and were found a few minutes later, their throats slit. The sight of the two eviscerated bodies by fellow soldiers was very unnerving. Three men outright deserted and fled into the forest, only to be picked up by the very attackers they were running from. At least they were given the choice to surrender, which they wisely took.

Meredith stood at the same spot where the 'General' had stood earlier that day, and gave instructions. The men and women below her were armed with a mixture of weapons taken from guards, brought in by outsiders to help with the onslaught, and "liberated" from the arsenal. A good portion of the men and women below had never fired a weapon and it was clear that barring a small miracle, a good percentage of those that hadn't, never would. However, at least in the case of the women, there was a certain bloodlust in their eyes. Meredith took all this in as she gave rudimentary directions to the former captives. Volunteers were going into the woods to hit the remaining members of the Militia from the rear. Meredith soon found that she had a formidable force on her hands, though she wasn't sure how resolute they would be when it came to actual combat.

She marched away with the group after a few hours of delegating and reorganizing the volunteers. As they walked out of town, they marched past the prison camp that had formerly served as the holding area for the women. It was now filled to the brim with men that had been removed from the town's defenses, as well as any of the returning wounded party who had been rounded up when they returned to town.

The Militia line had crossed nearly a mile and a half from the bridge where the airplane had caused such heavy losses to their ranks. In that mile and a half, seventeen men were reported missing, presumed dead or captured. Three men were reported as casualties of silent sneak attacks. Whoever this enemy was, they were clearly using their superior knowledge of the terrain to their advantage.

In the distance the sound of mooing from hundreds of cattle were heard. Several of the men, especially those low in the hierarchy, smiled at the thought of enough fresh steak to go around.

They advanced slowly, coming down the bank of a relatively shallow creek. The fact that this creek wasn't brimming over with drainage didn't seem to occur to the men, as they were nervously looking for human targets. Half a mile north of them, an expediently constructed dam was holding back three acres of water, though the man in charge of the operation wondered how much longer it would work.

The Militia line, nearly two hundred feet long, began climbing the much higher bank in front of them. As a few men cleared the top of the bank and began working forward, the sound of concentrated gunfire and the spray of wood chips and earth sprayed down from above. Many of the men that had made it to the top either found themselves expediently ventilated, or pinned down in such a manner that they could not move for fear of joining their comrades in death. Several bodies came crashing back down from above causing chaos and confusion. For some of the men, this was the first concentrated firefight that they had been in.

Return fire was sporadic at first, but eventually began picking up as men were able to get to the top of the embankment and prod their rifles over. What many of them found was empty woods. The firing stopped and a few of them scrambled over the top, inching forward, ready to drop at the first indication of trouble. After about a minute without any further gunfire, the men began to move forward in small rushes, from tree to tree. They found in the short underbrush that they were in a narrow valley and were facing a steep climb up a hill only a few dozen yards in front of them. Then it happened.

With a pop, the logs that held the dam together upstream began to shift. First it was a trickle, but after only a minute, the entire dam broke thoroughly in two and countless thousands of gallons of muddy water were sent flying down the narrow valley below. The only real hint that disaster loomed set with the few men that had remained on the bottom of the creek bed for the rest of the men to draw any fire that was coming. These stragglers, though there were less than twenty in total, noted that their feet and legs were wet just seconds before the torrent of water, mud, and debris hit them squarely in the side.

"Was that supposed to happen?" Sean inquired into his radio.

"Not yet," replied Derek. "The dam didn't hold up to all the rain."

"Best laid plans and all that then," Sean replied. "Do you want us to press on with our push then?"

"Affirmative," Derek called. "Most of them have their backs to the water so this may just work to our advantage."

"Will do then," Sean said. "Let's get this party started."

He waved to the men in the distance who were seated atop their grazing horses. They acknowledged his wave and with practiced precision turned the mob of bawling cattle in front of them into motion. The cattle, following their innate instincts, became a singular mass of hair, hide, and hooves, and funneled right down the narrow valley where the militia was huddled in the wet underbrush.

The roar of the water was loud for a few minutes until the water seemed to normalize. The old right-of-way served as something of a dam, limiting the amount of water that could pass by the size of the large box-culvert that went beneath it. Since most of the militia was to the south of the right-of-way, the only men affected were those which had not gotten out of the creek itself and were swept away by the initial wall of water.

The Captain of B company shot the Captain of A company a glare. "We are in too deep here," he mouthed to the other man from several yards away.

A shook his head. These people HAD to be dealt with or they would disrupt the balance of power. The morale among the men was already incredibly low. A victory was needed or the men would likely mutiny.

B looked away and shook his head sadly. He wondered if he or anyone in the Militia for that matter would survive this event.

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