Story Edie (Complete)

Chapter 187​


Winn and I had already made a place in the winter sleeping area as safe as possible so the kids would have a place to be during the day without adult supervision when both Winn and I had to be outside at the same time and they, for whatever reason, couldn’t be with us. It was about as childproof as we could make it. It was also about as “stranger danger” proof as we could make it, including plenty of protection from flying bullets should it come to a fight on our home ground. We immediately but calmly took the kids down to the area. They both knew something was up and got a little clingy because it didn’t mesh with our normal routine. We soothed them the best we could but had to be firm. If Rutherford had been just a bit older, I wouldn’t have minded leaving an emergency walkie-talkie for them to use but he wasn’t, so we didn’t.

Winn and I took turns, but we were both finally at the top of the house at what we call our “Observation Station” which just meant we had rigged an area at the top of the house that gave us a far view of all around us. It meant keeping some of the trees trimmed but you take the good with the bad.

“Anything new?” I asked as I crawled up beside Winn.

Angrily he answered, “Armored drones; possibly kamikaze. They fly in but I haven’t seen them flying out. Can’t tell who they belong to and we’re too far away to see any damage they are causing, and to which side. Everyone is running radio silent. I don’t even hear any of the MAG units.”

We both knew what that meant and was the reason for Winn’s anger. It meant that I was going to have to get closer to the fighting and he would stay here and play General behind the battle lines.

Sounding like he wanted to spit he told me, “If things get dicey, the kids and I will be in the tunnels. If they are worse than that, we’ll be at one of the fallback points.”

“As we planned,” I told him putting a calming hand on his arm.

Normally he is the one calming me but for whatever reason in battle situations it reversed. I knew it tugged at his man pride but I tried to let him lead up until I was out of sight so he felt like he had some control and was contributing rather than letting things make him feel useless. He was far from useless. Winn being who he was made it so I could be Capt. Dunn without going off the deep end. Winn being who he was gave me confidence that I would always have a “home” to come back to even if it wasn’t a physical location which meant I could take Capt. Dunn off when I got back. I’d tried to explain that to him but I’ve yet to be sure if he truly understood how important that was for my state of mind and mental health.

We’d already put the fire out where we’d been making and bottling the day’s syrup but he made double sure as I geared up and headed out with a bodacious kiss to remind me to come home. As soon as I hit the tree line however, I peeled off who I wanted to be most of the time – Normal Edie – and let Capt. Dunn take over the mental controls. I may one day pay for allowing that dual nature to exist, but at that time and at that place it was how I survived. I’ve just been forever grateful that I didn’t have to become Capt. Dunn where Winn and the kids were concerned. Ice Bitch was the least of it and I never wanted them to see that part of who I could be.

# # # # #

I was in the best condition of my life. Not only was I training the way I had back at Ft. Lee but unlike those times, I was also eating and fueling my body with something besides meal replacement bars and the crap they served in the Chow Hall. Getting down our mountain road wasn’t easy but at least it was downhill and not up.

I wasn’t surprised at not running into any of the MAG members. Local rules were the area was off limits to all but locals and even locals avoided it because the roads were in such poor condition and at that stage of the war all the houses and cabins had already been cannibalized for anything useful.

I noted that the sounds coming from town were no longer battle-intense but more sporadic which made me think more in line with a siege. Playing that thought out it meant that town had become blocked off – intentionally so or not, and probably at both ends – and someone was wanted in but had lost the advantage of shock and awe.

I wasn’t walking down the middle of the road to be spotted, that’s for sure, and it meant getting a lot closer than the enemy had intended. I still didn’t see any material support coming from Youngtown which worried me with what the implications could be. It was also nearly full dark at this point. I was going to let Winn know what I saw when I realized my radio wasn’t working, not even for the clicks that we used as code. Well, crap. Since I knew it wasn’t a battery issue and that I knew my then location was normally a good one to get a signal out, it meant the enemy was jamming things up somehow. Lovely.
 
Radios are a double edged sword. If dealing with technology group. Single use code, never a transmission from anywhere near a base is required. And be moving.
Remember just a few words can give a voice print to point they can have anyone imitate your voice. I don’t doubt the NSA has a few million voices recorded on file. Likely adding tens of thousands a month.
 
Thanks, Kathy! Appreciate the new chapter.......especially knowing that you are not feeling up to par and it was probably a harder one to write than most of the rest of them. Take care of yourself! And if you are not up to writing much for a bit, we CAN wait. Some patiently, others maybe not. But we CAN wait! Your health is more important!!
 

Chapter 188​


It took a few minutes of searching. Thank goodness I still had my cobbled together night-vision glasses from Fort Lee. I eventually got close enough to spot their jamming set up and that explained why Winn had not seen the drones return to base. You would have thought that alone would have signaled the Youngtown base that there was a problem. I filed that thought under things that made me go hmmmm.

It also explained the lack of noise I was hearing on the radio at all … no town, no MAG, no military, nothing. At one point the military had been claiming that they’d hardened off all of their hardware to avoid the problems of jamming, but it looked like either that was a lie, over statement or, there was a new level of technology involved. If so, sure didn’t look like it based on the equipment I could see. It looked like some of my rejects from when I went dumpster diving. And that was being generous.

I still had leftovers from where I’d scavenged from the cartel base months back. I didn’t cart everything around with me on my back like a turtle shell, but I’d brought enough with me that the threat I made was more than just bravado. Winn, proving that he’d had an interesting youth, had also jury-rigged some playthings for me to use as well. One of these days I hope to get some of the stories of his youthful joie de vivre for the family history. When I say things like that he just gets this impossibly innocent look on his face and starts talking about Sunday School contests and the like. Uh huh.

I’m glad I didn’t go off half-cooked but took the time to reconnoiter a bit more. Whoever these people were they were smart. Or had smart leaders. There were multiple jamming location set ups, spaced evenly apart. It was like the old Iron Dome effect after they added jamming weapons to combat terrorist organizations from doing the same thing to them. Drones were a menace of war. My question was did the jamming signify they were keeping things out, or keeping things in from escaping.

That’s when I nearly got spotted. And what is it with guys needing to take a bathroom break in the middle of battle?! You’d think they’d have other things on their mind but noooooo, when nature calls they just can’t ignore it.

-------

There were two men.

The first said, “Par tout ce qui est saint Ahmed.”

The second responded, “Je ne peux pas le retenir.”

The first man sighed like he thought the second was an idiot. “Se dépêcher. Je ne vous couvrirai plus.”

“Merci. Je vous dois beaucoup.”

“Oui. Il est difficile de croire que nous partageons le même père.” After a pause and looking around he added, “Allez dans les arbres pour ne pas être repéré et ne restez pas toute la nuit à ce sujet. Présentez-vous à votre poste lorsque vous avez terminé.”

I finally got a look at their faces. The first man looked older and harder. The second was younger than I was if his beardless face was any indication. The older one gave a look of fond irritation before shaking his head and continuing the direction they’d been going. The younger of the two headed into the woods tripping several times. Highschool French had allowed me to partly understand what they were saying but when the guy quickly dropped all of his gear and then dropped his pants and squatted … ew.

What was worse was that all the racket had disturbed the local wildlife, and I almost missed the bear before it took a swipe at the guy. He was in shock so fast there was never any danger of him screaming, then the bear dragged him off. Or should I say dragged his carcass off.

I was in shock myself after what I’d just witnessed. You hear what a bear is capable of but to see it?

I didn’t allow myself the luxury for long. I got the dead man’s gear – or for his sake I hoped he was dead by then – and made myself a fallback position. However, now that I knew there were bears up and feeling mean I decided the position would be up a tree. It wasn’t easy but I managed to wedge myself up in a stand of red cedar trees. They were evergreen and hid me better than anything else since the trees were still budding out rather than leafy and green. Lucky for me I was still up an in the evergreen trees when a unit or patrol crossed right by my position. They never even looked up. Obviously, they weren’t used to working in heavily wooded areas. Idiots.

My position gave me a real earful.

One of the guys started speaking but then another one cut him off. “Knock it off. You know I don’t speak it. My uncle sent me to public school and we weren’t allowed to speak it at home.”

“His death brought you glory.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

When that man continued on with a righteous attitude the remaining men – I discovered they were some middle eastern ethnicity – spoke amongst themselves. I’ll leave out the curses because it cuts their verbiage in half.

----------------

“Why do you let him get to you? He’s no one.”

“Because he is an arrogant ass. Just because he is a convert gives him no rights over the rest of us but look how he acts.”

“He’s zealous but means well.”

“Are you defending him?!”

“No. He’s a useful idiot. He wants glory and honor but will be given neither. Parvid says …”

“Parvid is every bit an idiot as that one. Neither man would know what to do with one virgin much less seventy-two.”

-------------------

There were similar crude statements but I was able to realize there were several groups – factions – and that they were only working together by force, not by inclination. They would turn on each other at the least provocation and I started to consider a plan on how to be that provocation.
 
Thanks Kathy!

In Africa there was a lioness and a couple of her children that became maneaters. The story became a book and a movie. The lions had begun scavenging bodies of railway workers that had been dumped in the brush instead of buried or burned. They were interfering with the work on the railroad, so they brought in a professional hunter that eventually killed the lions after almost becoming lionchow himself.

This is what may have happened with the bear(s).

Note to self, if I survive very long in a conflict, be wary of predators/scavengers. Feral dogs will be the worst around here.
 
Sammy55 said:
Mmmmmmm.......nope!!!! Not going there!! Don't even want to see the picture!!

Thanks for the chapters, Kathy! It was great fun catching up tonight on 3 days worth of chapters!

But now I'm with everyone else.........hanging onto this cliff with the tips of my fingers...........and crying "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!"

Please rescue us?! Please?
Click to expand...
Hell on a manicure isn't it?
Never had one so I'm ony guessing ;)
 
Sportsman said:
No need to apologize. Just know that we feel your pain alongside you. You left enough stories here to keep us occupied until you have free time. I'm rereading FEL while waiting impatiently
Click to expand...
And, if by some miracle one runs out of current fiction, there's always the resources.

I'm still compiling recipes from the stories and the resource pages
 
I came here to see if there was any more writing on the Edie-Winn saga. Alas, no! :bwl:

But I saw that I hadn't commented after the last chapter. :eek:
I'm sorry! It's been a crazy few weeks! :hof:
(And a few more crazy ones to go yet!) :hof::hof::hof:

So, I wondered if...maybe you weren't posting another chapter because I didn't post. :eek:
(I know that's not the reason - between your health issues and busy life....) :hugs:
But I figured I'd better post a big THANK YOU!! (just in case) :applaud:

So, if it was part of the reason - VOILA!! - you are now released and can post more saga script!
:jstr: :rofl::jstr::rofl::rofl::jstr::rofl::jstr:

Thank you in advance very much! :lkick:
I know I'm being a turd! :smkd:
 

Chapter 189​

They were overconfident. I didn’t know why then, and I still haven’t figured it out. Basic and sane tactics meant that the jamming devices should have been closely guarded. I suspect some of it may have been the result of too few men on their side to guard everything adequately, but it still makes no sense to me as a strategy what they did. Essentially, they assumed that no one was coming up behind them while they faced the direction of town. It made me think less of the “smart leaders” that’s for sure.

Had I still been in the military I could have used some ultra-tech anti-jamming whosiwhatsit to “break” the jammers. Well I didn’t have one of those whositwhatsits so that meant physically breaking the jammer and to do that I would need to be hands on. Giving it a swift think, and knowing I would have to be quick to open up enough of a gap in the jamming to make a difference, I decided on a method that I’d used at Ft. Lee to dispose of certain types of circuitry. And I was able to do so because Winn had the chemical stocked for some of the water treatment systems that he’d maintained up the mountain.

Peroxide. It isn’t just that stuff that bubbles when you put it on an infected wound, or used to get rid of blood stains or other biological spills. Nope. In the right concentration it can even be used as rocket fuel. The concentration I was using was not something you wanted to ever get on your skin. It is an acid. The container I had it in was special because of this; all glass based, including the nozzle. I added a gas mask over my balaclava and put the special gloves on that Winn had insisted I add to my gear for just-in-case.

The “guts” of the jammers were open to the elements. They would have eventually failed because of this, but I wanted them to “fail” faster and more permanently. I hurried from jammer to jammer and sprayed the exposed circuit boards with a high concentration of peroxide. It basically melted everything it touched and there would be no repairing all the jammers even if they had enough parts to repair some of them. I was hoping that since the jammers didn’t emit any sounds, and that I wasn’t stopping the power, just the jamming circuitry, the disfunction would take a bit to notice. Everyone already on radio silence would add to that … I was hoping.

The other thing about peroxide is that it is “environmentally friendly” since it is H2O2 and breaks down into H2O rather than some nasty chemical requiring an environmental cleaning crew.

I was only able to disable one side of the “dome” they’d created. Town was boxed in but at least one side was now open to some type of signal. I wasn’t sure how long it would take for anyone to notice so I went on to phase two.

# # # # #

They’d brought their supplies all the way up to their line. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Even more stupid is that they didn’t have them adequately guarded anymore than they had the jammers. These guys wanted a battle, wanted to earn their heavenly stripes. How many of them actually wanted to die while doing it was debatable but I could see they were jonesing really bad for something to expend the adrenaline on. I also noted that some of the groups were partaking in what is euphemistically called “battle candy.” Basically, amphetamine type drugs that had the effect you would expect.

Battle candy is bad news on both sides for the obvious reasons … someone can be a rager and unpredictable, unable to follow the most basic of commands, and if they don’t have anything to expend the “candy” on they start feeding on themselves. Ugh. I knew it was common … stay “up,” stay awake, six foot tall and bullet proof feelings of euphoria, no feelings for what you are inflicting, controls battle fatigue by keeping the troops happy-happy, controls hunger so less need for supplies, etc. No wonder so many of these men seemed strung out. They were being kept “high” for too long. These drugs were originally developed to control things like depression and attention deficit problems but were creating more problems. One was they were all hyper focused on what was immediately in front of them – a potential battle – and everything else was “gone” from their thought processes. It made sneaking up to their piles of supplies too easy. It also made getting into their water supplies easy. I don’t mean danger-free, but it was certainly easy for Capt. Dunn to do what she had been trained to do … inflict the greatest casualties without being caught.
 
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