Slumpity, Dumpity, get me 'dat Bumpity

I guess everyone has taken off for the Holidays.  Can't blame y'all but I too am out of reading material!

And I don't even like Zombie stories !


.......Mounger

Sorry folks. Been job hunting lately and have neglected my duties as an author. New update before the weekend is over.

CHAPTER 33

Jeb’s story, from Jeb’s point of view:

––––-


It all happened before I knew what was what. Them bombs went off and boom! There went the neighborhood. Course, that was all in the city. I don’t live near the city. Never have. Never will.

Don’t know how, but I still had my internets. Had ‘em for three days. I learned what happened. I read the news. Read them big newspapers and watched the TV reports all online. Damn Chinese done come over here and started World War 3. Well, by God, I intend to give ‘em war if that’s what they want.

So I made sure I was ready. I git my guns and I make sure they are all clean & ready to go. I load all my clips. I make sure to get my gear ready, too. I figure, where I live they won’t come visiting me, but I feel it’s my responsibility and my time to serve my country again. I did it in ‘Nam and that was a different place and a different time. Folks nowadays don’t know as much about protecting themselves.

So I will protect as many as I can. I look through my weapons and I think about what I am about to do. Reports on the web tell me the Chinese are real close to town here – I figured maybe another day was all I had. I would pick a family and protect them. I decided to protect this family that I know the dad from the gun store. He’s a nice fella. His daughters never appreciated his love for the shooting arts. And I know where his house is.

I go out with my AR15 and look over the lay of the land. I’m a hunter in case you didn’t know that. I keep my hunting camo on because it works real good. I stay behind the tree line and just look out and over the little development that my buddy lived in. Not many houses finished, but several are real close to being done. My buddy has one of them. Problem is that he is 400 yards from where my perch would be.

I like my AR 15 and all. Great gun. But when I know I will be out beyond 500, I go for the M1A. Sure, it’s finicky on the ammo, but I gots me about 20,000 rounds of military surplus. It will last a while. That 7-6-2 does real good that far out. I learned that from my Sarge in ‘Nam. Plus, as you can see, I gots me a little scope on her for shooting out that far. It only goes up to 12-power, but the mil-dots on it are calibrated to 7-6-2 out of this weapon and tell me right where I’ll be at 100-200-300-400-500-600-700-800 yards. Makes it easy.

So I go back and get my 7-6-2. Clips loaded, I hike back to the buddy’s place and set up. I’m there maybe a few hours, and what do you know. A tank comes by. There’s jeeps, and other cars, and Chinese all over the place. They start taking folks from their houses.

We’d all feared this for years, and now it was happening. I was madder’n a wet hen. I decide to start taking pop-shots at them idjits when they were two doors down. Found out that was 600 yards. Me and my setup could do it. I was dug in, and set up on a rest. I used my spare jacket to keep the rifle elevated and would dial one in and then…

POP

I took a man’s life for the first time in thirty years.

POP

Another. I knew I had to be careful. Folks say killin gets in your blood too easy. I want to watch out and be sure not to get too used to it.

Then I see it. They are takin kids out of their homes. They are shooting daddies. Them sunz-uv-bitches were killin my fellow ‘Mericans.

NO SIREEE!

Not on my watch. I got mad. I had to open up a can of whupass so big they was gonna wonder if they should ever come back.

POP

POP

POP

POP

Before I knew it, I’d killed thirty of ‘em. By now, the knew where I was at, so I figured I’d pack up and go before they flanked me or anything like that.

My buddy and his family were safe for the time. The Chinese had stopped advancing when I started shooting ‘em. So I went and I moved and got around to another side, keeping behind the tree line the whole time. I watched as the Chinese got to about where I’d been, which was now about 300 yards from me.

OOOOHHHHHH! I had an idea!

I start popping them Chinese that was snoopin around my old hiding place. They never knew what hit ‘em. They ran back as fast as their short legs would carry ‘em. It was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud.

Then I see my buddy is shooting from his house, too. My new vantage point let me see where he was resisting out the front of his house. His problem was nobody was watching the rear of his house. So I made sure to do it.

Let me tell you. We held ‘em off for three hours. My buddy finally figured out somebody was helping him. He spotted me in the looking glass. Then he smiled. He knew it was me. About an hour later, he flashed a mirror at me. Using Morse code, he asked if he could send his family to me for me to keep ‘em hid from them damn Chinese. I gave him thumbs up.

We got seven folks outta his house. Seems his daughter had been having a party with her friends. Got all of them out. Then my buddy and his wife get to going to come meet us.

Damn Chinese figured out what we were doing.

I had been shooting as cover fire, so they knew where we were by now. But they did not know where my buddy was. When he stopped the cover fire, they figured to try the front of the house. That was his fault. He and his wife were running towards us when them damn Chinese shot ‘em down. And then they come after us.

Now I have a big problem. I’m OK out here, but I gots seven girls – not a one of them over 21 in my care and they are loud, and they are whiny, and they are crying, and they are not good in the outdoors, and I’ve gots to take care of ‘em.

Sheeeyut.

I lead them back into the woods. And it was nothing but fussing, fighting, arguing, and pullin teeth to get them to move. Fortunately them damn Chinese kept shooting at us. So the motivation part I did not have to do.

It took most of the day, but we got back to my place without leading the damn Chinese there. Then I realize problem number two. My place is small. Almost too small to fit eight people and feed ‘em and whatnot. So we had to learn. We had to make do.

I began to teach them how to survive. Then the outbreak began. And things gots worse. Dealing with them zombies was something else, I tell ya. But we learned. That’s when I learned to shoot ‘em with .22’s so others would not hear them.

Eventually… and I mean EVENTUALLY… I gots them girls to where they would work with me, not against me. I found out what each one could do and not do and we used their natural talents to the best of our ability. I taught ‘em all how to shoot and cook. I figured everybody now needs to know how to do that.

Some were better to take with me when we went shopping. They had the natural ability to listen to me and learn how to search buildings. Some were better shooters. We put them up as sentries to take out the zombies when we would go shopping for food. Some were better used cooking and keeping the house up. But everybody helped. Everybody pulled their weight.

I gots ‘em all guns. They each got a .22, a shotgun, an AR15, and a 9mm pistol. I like .45, but they gots small hands and all. Then we gots ammo for ‘em. And I showed ‘em all how to use each gun and why and when to use different ones. They knew AR’s are for intense fighting. .22’s are good for huntin’ and shootin’ zombies. Shotguns for huntin’ and pistols for when everything goes to shit, or for when you set down that rifle and you shouldn’t have.

We made a routine. Each day, we would go and blast a few zombies from town. We were really cutting into the number of Zombies when whoever lived at this house started feudin’ with them damn Chinese. Then they attracted more zombies here. And I think the damn Chinese brought some, too.

So we kept to ourselves a bit. Then I heard ya’ll up there closer to us over the ridge at the asian girls’ house. We had sort of looked after them ladies, making sure they did not have too many zombies to deal with and such.

+1

Thanks for the update Usagi

Usagi,
I love this story and am happy to see it's not dead, but I am not too thrilled with the voice you used in that last section. It really doesn't sound natural at all. I see you're from TN. I was born there and spend a lot of time in the NC/TN mountains. I just don't think you are capturing the vernacular.

I hope this comes across as constructive and not simply negative as I want to encourage you to get back on this horse and ride it to the end.

Thank you for the input. I am always appreciative!

Jeb is not from Tennessee. I was thinking southern MO / Northern AR - close to the OK border. Does that make it more believable? The wife has family from that general area and I was trying like mad to duplicate that.

The setting here is midwest... not the South. I'd have a much easier time of it were I making Jeb have an East TN dialect (my home area), or even middle or West TN dialects. I could also do MS, AL, and GA pretty well. I wanted to stretch myself on this one... go outside of my "comfort zone."

PS - born & raised in Chattanooga. Close family in Harriman, TN (outside of Knoxville), and Jackson, TN (near Memphis). Currently live in Nashville area. Those three vernaculars (East - Middle - West TN) are second nature to me!
Some people actually don't believe me when I say there are not only three grand divisions of the state, but three accents, and three mindsets as well.

KEEP IT COMING

That helps a LOT.
Making assumptions about the region, it sounded like someone from Hollywood was trying to write "old hillbilly man".
I don't know those accents so I will suspend my disbelief and assume you are doing your usual excellent work. I am going to re-read it, but it may help to put some regional references in there to help prop up/flesh out this character a bit for others who haven't read it yet.

interesting, keep it coming.

please, sir, i want some more...?

Chapter 34

Matt told Jeb our story.

Well, the important parts, anyways.

I sat and thought about all that had just been said. Jeb was another survivor – like us. But not like us at the same time. He had led a far less “exciting” time since shit hit the fan. If I’d had my “druthers…”

“Jeb, you’re a good man, I’ve no doubt of it,” Matt said. “What you’ve been doing for those women – both the ones in your house, and the others nearby…”

“Ain’t nuthin.” Jeb waved Matt off. “Any of you would have done the same. I know it. Yore good people.”

I caught Matt shaking his head. He still had his demons. Probably would forever.

“So whacha gunna do ‘bout yore wife ‘n’ kids?” Jeb asked. The look in his eyes told me he knew the answer, but just wanted to hear it out loud.

“Kyle’s not going to do a thing, yet. We need a plan. We need to scout the enemy. We need a lot more than we have to be able to do anything about getting Kara and the kids back.” Matt was stoic, yet composed, as always. I could see the gears turning in his head.

“Whacha need is a distracshun.” Jeb said matter-of-factly.

Then it sunk in. That’s what we were missing. The look on Matt’s face told me that’s what he’d been thinking all along, but couldn’t come up with something solid.

“What do you have in mind, Jeb?” Matt asked directly.

I wondered, too.

“Well, ain’t a one of us gots an army. And that’s what we need most. But we have the next best thing…” Jeb said.

“Go on…” I proded.
….

I almost forgot about this one Usagi, thanks for the update.  When can we expect more?

More soon.

I was foolish to let a job search and some other pursuits get in the way.

I have the end written, I am actually just trying to tie it all together, and write a good prologue.

How dare you

Man i can honestly sat i have never set and read that much in my life at one time, i just stumbled accross this and got to reading it and ended up reading it all. Keep it coming, its awesome.

Chapter 35
SET THEM UP…

“Do you really think this will work?” I asked Matt.

“If anything will, this will.”

It wasn’t like we had a lot of options, anyways.

I drove the truck, an18-wheeler dry van full of special cargo, and we (Matt & I) edged closer to the top of the hill. Over the hill was the front gate of the Chinese encampment.

The radio clicked. Jeb was in position.

I pulled the truck to a stop and let Matt out. Now began the waiting game.

A tap-tap on the end of the truck told me he had completed stage 1. I knew he would now be taking the car back around, behind where Jeb was positioned, and then moving to another field position, from which he would start things out.. He would click the radio when he was in place.

This had to be the single dumbest of all the dumb ideas that mankind had ever conceived. I thought about it over and over. My goal was pretty clear. Matt had the hard part, but that’s what he thrived on. Jeb was going to run some interference for us. I had begged him not to, but he assured us he would not get in the way, nor would he be at risk. As far away as he was going to be, I had no doubt he would stay safe. Besides, the fight wouldn’t take place near him. Jeb was just going to throw more confusion into the fight than anything.

As I said, Matt would have the hard part. He would start out at a distance… but not too far. Then he would fight his way in and help me in the close-quarters combat. The goal was to get the enemy worried about snipers, then hit them up close. He had a pretty good plan, too. He would, at a predetermined signal, leave his roost and move away from the action, over a rise and take a hidden car around to a side entry point… near where I would enter.

Soon after that, at another predetermined signal, Jeb would cut and run. This was for the safety of those we left behind, as well as Jeb’s safety, too. No doubt, two intruders would be unmistakable and would draw the attention of the enemy soldiers. But, in the event somebody got smart and started looking for a sniper, Jeb would be in deep trouble.

Meanwhile, I was executing my part of the plan. I waited to drive the large cargo truck full of special cargo toward the side gate of the enemy encampment. But I needed Matt’s signal first.

It only took ten minutes or so, as we had predicted. But those ten minutes seemed like hours.

The radio clicked. That was Matt’s signal.

Another click. Jeb was awake and ready.

I clicked in, too.

Matt fired a hunting rifle in the crisp early morning air. It had no suppressor, so the entire valley rang out with the report. An enemy dropped dead with the shot.

Another shot rang out, and another enemy dropped with the impact of the bullet fired.

I knew at this point, according to plan, Matt was moving quickly to another position. The first shots were designed to draw the enemy away. Make them search an area that did not have any of us anywhere near it.

I also knew that was my signal to go. I would create a… distraction.

I urged the truck forward, careful not to hit many bumps. The cargo would do no good if it fell out prior to us getting to the gate.

My vehicle picked up speed. Few of the enemy saw us coming – they were looking at Matt’s old direction – which was completely the other way.

I realized it was go time. The gate approached quickly. A couple of guards screamed out, but it was entirely too late.

After the impact, which jarred the gate open, and did what I figured was irreparable damage to the engine below me, I yanked at hard as I could on the wheel, turning the behemoth of a vehicle sharp left.

For those readers completely unfamiliar with the basic principles of physics, let me sum up some facts:

First: an object in motion tends to stay in motion unless acted upon by an outside force. The outside force ( a gate, in this case), was not enough to bring us to a halt. We maintained a reasonable velocity.

Second: An object in motion will continue to travel in the same direction unless acted upon by an outside force. In this case, the outside force of me yanking the steering wheel to the left was not enough to turn the vehicle, as it was too sharp a turn. And all of this was on purpose.

Last, when a truck fails to make too sharp a turn at a fairly high rate of speed, the forces of momentum often topple the truck, cab first. This is exactly what happened. The trailer often follows – as it did in this case.

The trailer turned over as did the cab. My cargo spilled out all over the place.

I was strapped in (hey, seatbelts save lives, don’t they?), and got to experience my first ever truck crash first-hand. I was jostled and bumped here and there, but as the truck came to a rest, I realized I was largely unhurt.

The truck stopped moving. The cab was on its right side. I unstrapped my seatbelt and moved quickly. From the back of the cab, I pulled out a corpse of a zombie… dressed up to look like a dead person. I flung the corpse forward – so it could be seen by any onlookers through the front windshield.

Meanwhile, I locked myself into the sleeper area of the cab and hoped against hope.

The sounds all around me were horrible. I heard my cargo get free. I heard the commotion it caused. I heard the enemy soldiers scream. And shoot. And scream and shoot some more.

I heard quick, loud chatter in the Chinese language. I do not know which dialect it was, but it was moving fast.

I heard moans.

That was good.

And bad.

All at the same time.

My truckload of zombies was doing the job I’d hoped they would do. I could not hear Matt and Jeb shooting – but they were shooting suppressed from hundreds of yards away. I imagined they were doing OK, too.

As the sounds moved away from the truck, I gained my gumption. Gathering my wits, I took my rifle and ammo. Good-golly-gee-whiz, I had a lot of ammo.

I slowly opened the top door of the truck – which had been the driver’s-side door a half-hour ago – and climbed out. I scanned all around. There were enemies within eyesight, but they had other problems.

Biting problems.

They caused the damned things, it was only fair they deal with them now.

I moved from the top (or was it the drivers’ side?) of the truck to a nearby rooftop. It offered some cover, concealment, and a bird’s eye view of the layout.

That last part – the layout – would be the best part. You see, I needed to figure out where my wife was. I figured that would be the prison area. But my problem was that I did not know where the prison area was.

My eyes were good. My spotting scope helped, as the encampment was fairly extensive. Soon, I had my suspicions. Fortunately, two of them were close to one another. And one of those was the one place that if I had to wager all the marbles on one being it, that one was the one I’d pick.

Only one problem remained. Several hundred zombies and several hundred Chinese fighting one another. They were in my way, too.

I looked around and quickly found a path to take that did not cross the main fighting areas too much. It also had some straight shots where I could run and only be detected from the front or the rear.

Now that I had my plan, and my way to the rescue, it was time for me to give the signal so that Matt would come to help and Jeb would leave for safety.

I threw a hand-grenade as far as I could, while maintaining my covert position, and my aim was for the middle of the Chinese in the melee. It detonated and I heard more screams and more general commotion.

So I went to the opposite side of the building and worked my way down to ground level, as there was no way to make it there via rooftop. Matt and Jeb would be on the move now, as well.

If this were a movie, I’d include places here where there were traps, and enemies galore to kill. But this is no movie, and those things simply did not happen.

Our distraction was working.

I made my way to the large building I had figured was the most-likely place they would have their prison. With a sigh and a deep breath to clear my head, I entered. Out of the corner of my eye, I had seen Matt entering through the side gate that was now unguarded.

Upon entering, I realized I had a problem. There were likely a lot of people in here. And I did not know my way around.

Just then, shouts in Chinese, and gunfire from inside the building. I dived behind a nearby desk.

And the door opened.

Matt stood in the doorway. He had seen me, too. And more gunfire sent him scrambling behind my desk.

“Thought you’d never make it!” I said with more than a bit of sarcasm in my voice.

“You know me, I like to make an entrance.” Came the response.

“You got a plan?” I asked.

“Yeah. Go down that hall,” Matt pointed down a side hall I could reach if the Chinese stopped shooting for just a minute. “Then go down the stairs. The jail cells are on the right.”

“And how do you know this?” I asked.

“Rule number one of being a hitman is to know your target. I did some research.”

I wondered exactly what that meant. And I wondered how he got the information. But I trusted him to not lead me astray, so I got my feet under me and prepared to do a mad dash.

“Wait ‘til my signal, then move!” Matt said, getting ready to peek around the corner to shoot.

He peeked around and let loose a burst of fire that silenced the Chinese and their AK’s.

I moved like a dog with his tail on fire and made for the hallway as instructed.

A few turns and I was there. And Matt was right behind me.

“I’ll watch your back. You search the cells. We let everybody go.” Matt said.

“And then what?” I asked. I was curious how we would get out of there.

“Then we take a tunnel to the outside. It is a secret exit they have to escape in case they got over-run by zombies.” Matt stated blandly.

I was really curious how he knew these things.

But no time for that, I went down the hallways and started looking. My heart jumped when I saw Kara in a room with one of her captors. He was trying to tie her hands up. I feared the worst.

Kara’s eyes locked on mine.

The enemy never saw me coming.

YESSSSSSS!!!!!!!!

 

Thanks guys...

But it gets better...  

Please critique this ending thoroughly.

I wrote it a year and a half ago - with the ending of Hitman I. I just couldn't get that story to this one, hence all the in-between stuff.

I've rewritten it a bit, but the original essence is the same and it's all here.

Chapter 36

KNOCK THEM DOWN


My friends, we are all familiar with the popular books and movies. In these works of fiction, the good guy somehow manages to lose his gun and this leads into the inevitable hand-to-hand contest. The hero almost always gets the short end of the stick, but through luck, determination, or sheer force of will, he manages to come out ahead.

Well, this is real life, not some libtard directed movie – and you know I’m going to come out ahead, because I have written the words you now read.

But let me tell you, the end comes without a fistfight. Without cool catch phrases being spoken. Without a climactic finish. Without flare – except from the muzzle of my AR-15. Without outside intervention. Without luck. Without Matt having to intervene and save all our asses.

And without warning.

I attack. That’s just what I do. Matt looks for cover and snipes away from relative safety. I am a bit different. I look to get into the middle of things. I get close. If I want to kill you, then I want to get up close & personal with you.

I did just that.

Closing the distance, I snapped my rifle to my shoulder and put the reticle on the bad guy. His hands were working feverishly to finish the binds that tied Kara.

A flash.

Kara saw my movement.

The enemy saw Kara’s eyes move and moved his own to see what she saw.

She saw me.

He saw me.

Press.

My 5.56 mm grim-reaper does his job.

Brains everywhere.

I mean fucking everywhere!

Kara has his blood all over her.

I have his blood all over me.

Damn! I must have been within four feet when I fired. Fragments of blasted human flesh and blood and bone were all over me. I could not possibly have cared less. Before I knew what was happening, my knife was in my hand and Kara was being cut free.

Kisses everywhere, and I love every one of them.

Now my children!

I move quickly. Kara follows. Before we leave the room, she grabs the single-shot 20-guage shotgun in the corner. It has a sleeve on the butt with ammo pouches. The pouches are full of ammo, and so is the chamber. She has six shots.

I think blandly to myself she won’t need that many, I have all we need. But then, there’s never been anybody who survived a gunfight that said they wished they had less ammo.

We make our way down the hall and into the prisoner area. I am pissed by this point and the two guards there are simply going to have to take the brunt of it. If for no other reason, they were my children’s jailors.

I press the trigger repeatedly, but in a controlled manner. I do not see the holes my rifle makes in the bodies of these two men. But that’s not uncommon, I have learned by this point. I know my 55 grain assassins are working their magic due to the body language of the men I’ve just shot.

Body language? Yes, I did say body language. You see, everybody communicates with their bodies, whether or not they are aware of it. I am keenly aware of body language. And in this case, their language is unmistakable:

They both dropped like rocks.

Kara removes the key from the belt of one of the men and unlocks all the doors in the area. Many people come out of their cells. I am still in the daze I told you about, but I find my children. My baby girl had been crying for us, so she was the easy find. Austin was succeeding in his attempts to be quiet and not draw attention to himself, just in case. It takes a few moments, but Austin finds us.

Hugs all around.

Matt sees all this and leaves his post where he was watching for any following enemies. He runs down a hallway and motions for us to follow.

We comply.

It seemed like miles, but it was really a few hundred yards. The tunnel was not big, but not too cramped. At the end, we had to climb out, using a metal ladder that was installed in the structure. We popped the lid and my heart leapt!

A Chinese woman – maybe 25 years old – with a gun was looking straight at us.

I fumbled, trying to get my AR up and on target, but the Chinese girl just smiled. Matt climbed past me and out, into the arms of the young lady.

She said, in perfect English, “It’s about time, Matthew. You had me worried.”

“No worries, babe. Let’s get outta here.”

“This way!” she said.

They led us to a van that was parked a few yards away, hidden behind the trees and brush. It had more than enough room for us all.

On the way back, Matt introduced us to Soo. I couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that she shared a name with my ex. But that was about all they had in common. Soo, it turns out, is a nice girl.

Nice girls always like the bad boys.

And Matt is the baddest boy I know.

Is this the end of Hitman II ? or another update?

Chapter 37

PROLOGUE

I am at the front of the house we are about to enter. I smell the enemy. The enemy that just does not die.

Unless I kill it, that is.

Kara is to my left, rifle pointing straight up. Soo to my right, rifle also pointed straight up. They both sport carbine-length AR-15’s with simple red-dot optics, tactical slings, a pouch with six loaded mags slung over each lady’s shoulder.

I have my rifle. Yes, I know the 20” barrel is not the greatest for clearing houses, but the damn thing has killed every single zombie I’ve shot it with – so give me a break. It is a monstrosity, but that’s to my liking, too. It has a collapsible stock and a flip up BUIS. My ACOG rides the flat top, and I do not use a red dot to help. A simple sling helps me tote it, and is set for hasty-sling use if needed.

I do not use hasty-sling for clearing houses that have potential canned foods in them.

I kick the door in, and immediately the women spin into the house, right behind me, spreading out in formation to angle left and right. I know, it’s an old tactic, but it works well against the undead as they do not fire back.

Matt is on our heels and helps watch blind spots.

He watches our backs as we clear rooms like he taught us to.

We pie off every corner.

We clear room after room.

We splatter the brains of what had been an older couple some years back.

Now they were just an older dead zombie couple.

There was a time I would have been sad. But not now. Now, this is the reality of the world we live in. I’ve accepted this fact, and I’ve moved on. Some however, get all emotional and sentimental.

They don’t understand the undead can’t be reasoned with, or spoken to in a civilized manner. The undead do not care about circumstances, or anything at all, for that matter. The undead ask no quarter and they give none in return.

So I give no quarter, either. It is just as simple as that. I do not feel when I kill them. I just do what needs to be done. What mankind will probably be doing for the next fifty years. And probably have to do occasionally after that.

We won, of course.

We beat the Chinese.

They had been beat on most fronts by the time we turned the local camp into zombies. Other places had mobilized. Others had fought as we had. Others took back our America, as we took back our part of America.

Ultimately, there was a rifle behind every blade of grass. At least the blades that were still standing – but then that’s why they were still standing. That will be a lesson we teach our children. And their children. And somewhere down the line, people will forget again, and the tree of liberty will be watered again. It is a vicious cycle after all.

Here and now, there are estimates that some 50,000 Americans survived. That’s not a lot. But we persisted. And here we are. I imagine there are about 20 million zombies left – predominantly in major cities.

We will eradicate them, too.

And so we clear another house as I think all this. And two more zombies died. And we found some food for our little colony. A colony of over 50 people. This is what you call a major metropolis, now.

All the people in our colony over the age of six can shoot… and shoot well. Matt saw to that. We can all make a zombie headshot at 100 yards – scope or irons – sitting or standing – rifle or carbine. The outstanding ones can do it at much longer differences.

Right now, I am second to only one. But he will probably never let me catch up. He’s had far too much practice. And he practices daily.

With a personal best of over 1000 yards with both the AR-15 and M14 platforms, we don’t even try to beat him. We just try to keep the margin reasonable.

And we have found that shooting is shooting, and practice is practice. The more one practices and shoots for real, the better they get.

We found that there is a place for field shooting, close-quarters tactical, and just about every other type of shooting… given the circumstances. So we practice them all. We all understand that a pistol is a pistol and a rifle is a rifle. We carry rifles into combat when we have the choice. We use the pistol to fight our way back to rifles. We do not put rifles down… or at least far out of reach.

Nobody does.

Anywhere.

To see a gun in the hand, or on a sling over the shoulder, or in a holster, or whatever, is just plain normal. Only a great fool would go around unarmed these days. Too many threats out there. The people that lived learned (or already knew) that arms were necessary on many levels.

That’s why the new constitution protected them unequivocally with the new 1st Amendment.

But I predict great fools will rise again to challenge those words with their twisted lies. And that future generation that allows this to happen will suffer, too.

But once again, we will have some history to guide those that will listen and learn.

The rest will be content to be soothed by kinds words that hide an evil scheme.

“Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel was just a freight train comin’ your way.”
- J. Hetfield & L. Ulrich






Kyle.


[END]
ETA: Page 10 is mine!

Very nice

Good story

thanks!

great story but keep it goin man

Thanks for the props, but this one is over for now.

Working on a possible story from Outline, though.

sweet!!!



 

No doubt.  

I found this story last week, and just got finished with it.  Now I've got to go find Hitman and start from the beginning.

Great story Usagi, Domo Arigato & OSU!

thanks good story

Thanks Usagi, I hope you do another in this line. A 3rd point of view of the story.