Terms For Survival - John Reeves (readera ebook reader TXT) 📗

happening the war between good and evil.
By 2016 the war was only one year from happening, but people knew it was going to occur. The battle lines had been clearly drawn, and the Government, or New World Order wasn't backing down. They weren't trying to explain their lies anymore. They knew the public knew everything. The country was over-populated, and they believed by reducing the total number, the remaining portion of society could survive. To insure life continued in America millions of people had to die. The year before the war began both sides began to build towards total violence. Preparing to give it there best shot.
The second Revolutionary War began in 2019 when the government hit Indianapolis with a bomb. Well that's what most people say, but many feel it had been going on by then. In many ways it had been happening long before then, but nobody acknowledged it for what it really was. It wasn't just the suicide bombers, because thousands of groups of radicals had invaded government controlled areas. Engaging in conflict with the New World Order was their only purpose. Martial law hadn't been effective, and in many ways the government knew it wouldn't be.


3
John had not seen his wife and child since before the war. He lived most days with a lonely sick feeling, one that told him he might never see them again. He didn't know if they'd been killed, captured, or if they were searching for him somewhere out among the craziness that encompassed America. He hoped they were alive and well, but if they weren't, he just hoped they died quick and without pain.
Out of the shadows Jason walked up holding a bottle. The boy wasn't trying to scare John, but he did manage to startle him bit.
"You goddamn little shit, don't sneak up on me." He didn't find the humor in the situation.
"You weren't sleeping on the job, were you?" Jason asked, but not that it really mattered. Their town hadn't been under any type of battle in three years. Lost in the wilderness of the Mississippi Delta.
"No. I wasn't sleeping on the job, but don't guess I was doing a good job either way."
"Are you thirsty? Here get you a drink of this." John took the bottle from Jason, and knocked-off a big shot of it.
"Holy shit...that's some strong whiskey." John was caught off guard. It was not like the weaker stuff he'd been drinking the night before.
"Old man Jim has finally perfected his craft."
"Yes, he most certainly has. Can you go over there and get me a bottle? Do you think he's still awake?"
"Sure, he's awake. I'll go get you one before they're all gone." Jason said.

There was something strange on the night, and John could feel it. May it was the fact that he'd been thinking about his family. Those were thoughts and memories he tried to avoid when he could. It wasn't that he didn't want to remember the good times, but to do so hurt him so badly. Sometimes he'd even cry. John couldn't be sure the reminiscing hadn't created the feeling. Even with a good solid drink in him, he knew something was wrong.
Jason had come back with the bottle. John tucked it into the pocket on his bag. There was no intention on drinking it excessively on the job, but knew he'd enjoy it latter at home. John knew he'd go home, get drunk, and start thinking about his family. He also knew the macabre thoughts would enter the question too, because they always did. Sometimes he would think about suicide, but he could never bring himself to do it. That would be giving up, or calling it quits, and John was a fighter.
As the sun lit up the open meadows, and the changing of the guard took pace; there was a horse galloping toward the main gate. It was the messenger, and he was also there to deliver bad news.
"There is a large group moving this way. They've already taken out two towns the size of yours. For your own safety I advise leaving the area. They'll rip you clean of all your things, but you'll still be alive."
"We appreciate the heads up, but we ain't running from them. We fought for this land, and we won it. Even though our numbers have fallen since then, I still like to think of us as too strong of a force for someone to overtake. Everyone here are fighters, because that is the only thing we know." Chris Duncan replied. He was the head guard during the day. He was also the guy who'd make the decision to run or fight.
John found him to be arrogant, but at the same time he knew Chris was a warrior. In his mid to late thirties, he was in his prime. John knew he could have taken him out if he'd been that young again, but not the fifty-one year old man he'd become.
"I think you should listen to the man Chris. If they took Meridian, than what chance do we really stand in battling them?"
"John, I honestly expected more out of you. We cannot, and will not let them take what is ours."
"Do you not care that they'll wipe us off the map?" John asked.
"Sacrifice, that's what it is. Their is a price to be paid for being free, and it's right now that we're being asked to pay that price."
"There ain't no shame in staying alive." John said, and with the most spite he could muster. He couldn't believe that the little bastard really wanted to risk lives, and against a moving force that left them at a disadvantage.
"Save all the fight with pride bullshit. I have been in this world when fighting for something meant something. When people had a choice, and where the enemy wasn't our own people."
"No...you listen here John. I am the one who decides when we engage in combat, and now is that time. This beautiful village we've built is ours, but you can bet it won't be if we walk away from it now. I can show you some old-timers that stood their ground to keep it. This is not a democracy, nor is it up for a vote." Chris was becoming angry. He could not believe the defiance of one of his best guards.
There was nothing easy about heading up the security for the village, just as there was nothing simple about making decisions that put them at risk. Chris felt very firm in his choice to engage in combat. He understood that John was a wise soldier from the Great American War. In no way did he think of him as a coward, although his suggestion seemed cowardly to say the least. Part of him was thankful that John didn't make the decisions on battle.
Word had spread about the possible battle, and a handful of people inquired about the possibilities of war. Others didn't believe their source of information, and merely brushed it off. Chris was going to bring them to the square for a meeting, but not for a discussion on whether combat would be necessary. He was trying to speak with the men in the village first. He didn't know if John was going forward to the people, but he wanted to state his case first.
John had spoken to a couple of people, and there were a few who agreed with him upon hearing his case, but half of those would favor Chris by the time the meeting at the square had taken place.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we're brought here tonight because the village is going to be under attack. The force has taken Meridian, and are coming after us. We are not going to stand down, or let them have are community. However we are going to have to fight hard and use everything we've got. When we break this meeting you will go to your designated spot. You have done the drills a hundred times, only this time it's for real.
"Spotters, your going to be vitally important. If we are going to defeat them, then we're going to need as quick a jump as we can get. I know we're out-manned, and maybe even as much as three to one, but I believe we can conquer them. They're moving into out turf, and we know this land better than they do. We all knew this day would come, and we've prepared for it. Get with your squad leader, and God be with you all." Chris concluded, and stepped back into the building.


4
With the light of the morning sun, the spotters could see the coming group moving through the mountainside. The elderly and women and children were tucked away in a safe bunker. John was not in the first line of defense. Those guys ran right into their deaths. By the time the opposing group had made it into the village it was too late. They could no longer make a run for it, and some realized they weren't going to win. John aborted his post, and put his life on the line to fight back.
The enemy rode by John on horseback, and he noticed the man had a shotgun attached to the saddle. Things rolled through his mind at a rapid speed, and the one thing that stuck was the gun and horse. He knew they had horses in the village, and he knew there wasn't enough to match the hostile group. Chris had some guns, but he didn't have enough for half the men. John knew that some really good men had probably already died. The sounds of battle echoed through the village.
John threw his knife into the back of the man on the horse. He didn't know if the shot he'd taken would pay off, and he approached the guy as if he were still alive. The enemy stooped forward, then rolled off the left side of his horse. He was dying, but John quickly moved in on the guy. He pulled the knife from the enemy's back, and then stabbed him to a certain death. The eight inched fixed blade did massive amounts of damage. It ripped golf ball size holes in the guy. John stabbed and twisted the blade, then pulled it out.
The next move was simple, corral that horse, and get that shotgun. It had been a long time since he'd killed someone like that. Part of him seemed to enjoy it, while another part was repulsed by the entire situation. Something had clicked inside him. Maybe he knew he was going to have to kill his way to safety. He'd been in combat before, and he'd lost his family in the process. John wanted to live, but he was ready to put that life on the line. He was ready to do whatever it took to survive.

Chris was not yet willing to call his idea a failure. Sure some good men had died, and some of them he called friends, but he found it all to be necessary. He didn't understand the melting pot of emotions going on inside him. The sadness fueled the anger, the regret fueled his determination, and he had no intention to surrender. The battle had not gone the way he thought it would, nor did he realize the opposition would have more firepower. He'd envisioned a more level battlefield.
Peter Jent a senior guard stood in the door way. "You're not thinking about giving in, are you?" He asked.
"No!" Chris replied quickly. The battle had gone on for