Carrying On
Copyright© 2010 by Harold Wainwright
Chapter 37
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 37 - 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
The first day of August started as a normal, hot sultry day. The sun rose, and so did the temperature. The mosquitoes, which had stayed at bay most of the summer, were out in force. The change of the guard occurred at 0900 hours. It became clear very quickly that something was terribly wrong.
The Militia had spent nearly two weeks reinforcing their position in the newly conquered town. They had found this locale so sparsely populated that the threat from the locals or anyone else was relatively small. What population was in the area had posed no problem when they decided to commit raids or resupply. In fact most of the men were bored from the lack of action lately and had been rather rough on the captive women. Two women had died outright from beatings they had sustained and three more were in the sick pool recovering.
But the morning of August first was not about the women or the men who had been rather brutal. It was not about the heat or the mosquitoes. It was about the twenty-four sentries that were missing.
The change of the guard found empty sentry posts. No sign of a struggle or fight was evident. The men and their weapons were simply gone.
High alert was called and twelve scouts were dispatched to check out the surrounding area and report back.
None returned. None even radioed in.
The following night nothing strange was noted by sentries, though there were reports of strange noises heard in the distance. The following morning, nothing seemed amiss.
Slightly nervous, but not nearly as on edge as the night before the night sentries took their places and darkness fell. At 0300 the replacements found empty emplacements. No weapons. No sentries. All but one of them found their maker immediately thereafter. It was only through sheer luck that the sentry noticed the empty foxhole from a distance and backed into the shadows. Slipping away he ran back to his barracks and sounded the alarm.
For three hours armed men crawled all over the emplacements with searchlights looking for signs of invaders. Finally one tiny brass from a .22 short was located. It had been fired that night, though exactly when was all up to speculation. No one had heard any sounds except for the normal sounds of the night. It was not a normal round that the Militia kept in inventory, so it had to have been used by someone else.
From that point forward sentry duty was a two man affair. And for two nights things seemed to be returning to normal.
Then the bodies started turning up.
First it was just one. The body of a private was found in some weeds near one of the sentry posts.
The next morning there were four placed in plain sight in the middle of town. This served to shake up the Militia with a sense of dread. Morale was sinking and squad leaders were having difficulty getting assigned men to report for sentry duty at night.
For three days there was a rash of desertions as morale continued to fold. No further bodies were discovered, but the fact that the enemy, whoever that was, were able to infiltrate and kill them at will seemed to shake most of the men to the core. So in ones and twos they abandoned their posts and ran for the hills. Many were caught in the web of attackers spread around the town.
After only a week, the Militia had lost over one hundred twenty men to the passive attacks.
Meanwhile back at the farm the mobilization that was taking place against the Militia was in full swing.
Bryan and Silver, both very well liked by neighbors and acquaintances, had begun talking with neighbors and friends that they could reach, and an informal army had gathered together. The risk of their continued freedom and survival was enough to get even the most passive people out to support the effort. To have a heartless warlord in the area was never a good thing.
The amount of manpower was amazing. The county that they resided in was tiny by comparison to those surrounding it, and their one little town as the county seat was its population center. But there were still farmers and ranchers and hermits and survivalists back in the hills. Systematically the group had contacted these people and found amazing pockets of humanity.
There were at least three other groups with more than twenty people taking care of themselves. One group was militant and provided an amazing amount of firepower. They had clearly planned for the eventuality that was before them. Their help with strategic planning in asymmetrical warfare was also invaluable.
There were seven people who were skilled in infiltration and with that and some chloroform they were able to systematically remove twenty four unconscious men from sentry duty and remove their weapons. The next round of abductions was more ambitious, as they planned to eliminate two separate shifts. After chloroforming the first shift and spiriting them off with the rest of the prisoners of war, ambushes were set up at each post. In many cases the sentry coming on duty would find an imposter at his post, who would either chloroform or otherwise subdue. These were backed up by three other people to help carry the unconscious person away. Only the case of the young private who was a few minutes early did the trap go un-sprung.
The sounding of the alarm had prompted some of the sentries to be dealt lethal force. Every team had a small .22 pistol with a rudimentary suppressor installed. In five cases these had to be used as the alarm sounded before the trap could be sprung. One was hidden in weeds near a sentry post, but the other four were spirited away before the alarm had gotten everyone up. One pistol used was a semi- automatic and it ejected the empty brass, which was later discovered.
Deserters were captured as they snuck away for the following two days, amounting to another thirty captured men.
On the other side of things, the ranks of men and women showing up to join the cause kept growing. There was no official head count but the best estimation ranged somewhere between two and three hundred.
The prisoners were enlisted into chain gangs and they were tasked with creating trenches and gun emplacements for the battle that would most likely come to them at some point. One hundred active men with shovels could move an amazing amount of soil in no time and the trenches spread out around the farm for hundreds of yards.
Andrew was preparing too. The entire shed had been converted into a makeshift hospital and he was busy training people how to do basic battlefield first aid. He prayed that he wouldn't have to do it. The most that he had treated in weeks had been a deep gash when one of the infiltrators had tripped over a piece of sheet metal, and a sprained ankle from one of the kids.
On August eighth, Bryan addressed the assembly of people that had come to reside on his properties. It was the beginning of the debriefing for the battle plan to protect the farm and eliminate the threat that the Militia represented.
"People," he began. "We are all looking down the barrel of a gun right now. In the days ahead the Militia will obviously get tired of our little bee stings and range out to find their attackers."
"Our first push will be to redirect them and pull them toward the east. If that works we can draw them all around the countryside, stinging their flanks as we go. If they come this way, then we have to fight them on our turf."
"We will continue reinforcing the area and creating further emplacements until we simply cannot any longer. When that eventuality comes, Derek has given you all your assignments. With a little luck, a lot of prayers answered, and some hard work, we can scrub the area of this warlord and reinforce ourselves to keep others out."
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