Restitution: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival series (The Dark Road series Book 8)

basking the entire camp in a yellow-orange glow.
The explosion threw off his rhythm, and he had to reposition himself to attack the man, but it was too late. The guy had spun around at the sound of the explosion and stopped Ben’s downward thrust with his forearm. Ben locked arms with him as the struggle for control of the knife continued. Pieces of wood and debris started to rain down on them, and Ben knew that he had to make a move soon. This was taking too much time, and if he didn’t end it quickly, he was likely to find himself outnumbered.
Crack…crack! Ben recognized the shots as Joel’s, based on where they came from, but the sound startled the man and he lost his concentration long enough for Ben to capitalize on his mistake and overpower him. Sweeping his legs, Ben toppled him over and rode the momentum of the fall down to the ground. Careful to keep the knife between them, he reinforced his position by placing his other hand over the butt of the knife handle. When they landed, Ben put all his weight behind the blade and drove it deep into the man’s chest. The moonshiner’s eyes widened as he came to the realization that these were his last moments, and he made a final attempt to beg for his life.
“No…” His voice trailed off, but Ben ignored his pleas and drove the knife deeper, twisting it sideways as he went. There was no time for mercy. He was out in the open and exposed. As it was, he was going to have to make a run for cover as soon as he was sure this guy was finished. He wasn’t leaving any loose ends in this fight.
Crack! Another shot rang out. Ben continued to apply pressure as the moonshiner’s eyes went dim and his body grew limp. But all Ben concerned himself with was whether or not Joel was hitting his targets.
He quickly pocketed the knife and searched the body. The man had a pistol on his belt, a semiautomatic of some sort. Ben pulled it from the holster unceremoniously and cracked the slide a quarter of an inch. It was a .45-caliber pistol, and it was loaded. Popping out the magazine revealed a full stack of brass just one shy of being full, the twelfth round currently in the chamber. He slammed it back into place and checked his surroundings. The pistol was a good find, and he was lucky it was such a high-capacity gun for a .45. Having it boosted his confidence, along with his supply of ammunition. His rifle only held five rounds, and that was a legitimate concern. At least now he had backup.
Crack…crack!
Easy, Joel. Make ’em count. Ben took a quick look around before getting up off the ground. There was still time to get into position and exploit the moonshiners’ surprise and shock, but not much. He imagined they’d be running around here like crazy in a matter of seconds, and he bolted for cover while the coast was still clear.
Ben did some quick math in his head, and assuming the shots Joel had fired in quick succession were double taps on a single target, he figured Joel had taken out three of the moonshiners, just the same as him. That left somewhere around four to six moonshiners who were unaccounted for. He wondered if any of them would run back to check on their prisoners. It wouldn’t matter, though; the others were hidden well in the old Cadillac, and if they stayed put, they should be safe.
Ben heard shouting and yelling from the camp as the moonshiners scattered. He also heard intermittent gunfire that wasn’t from Joel. They were shooting back. Ben expected as much, but it wasn’t until he heard the gunfire that the true gravity of the situation hit him. He really needed to get set up and start providing support. If it wasn’t for the guy he’d just run into, he could have been in position by now.
Ben finally reached the container he’d scouted earlier and made his way around to the side. A few fifty-gallon drums were stacked there, and with a little effort, he used them like oversized stairs to reach the top of the container. There was an old refrigeration unit from better days attached to the roof. The moonshiners must have used the container to store their food at one point in time or until they lost power. Ben saw it as good cover with the added benefit of being at a higher vantage point than anything else around.
His prediction was correct, and once he snuggled in behind the rusty refrigerator unit, he could see the entire compound except for a few spots and a section of the main trail blocked by containers. But Joel had a good view of the areas he couldn’t see, so between them, he was satisfied with their coverage of the compound. The fire at the still was burning brightly and provided just enough light for target acquisition. Now all he had to do was wait, and that wasn’t long. Ben spotted his first moonshiner at the south end of the compound. He was crouched behind a tree and facing Joel’s position. Ben found him in his scope and moved the crosshairs over the man’s head.
Boom! The bark from the .338 Lapua thundered over the compound. Ben didn’t waste any time and chambered another round. He estimated the shot to be about seventy-five yards, not even a challenge with this rifle, even in poor light conditions. When he checked back through his optic to confirm the kill, all he saw was a pair of legs thrashing in the bushes behind a blood-stained tree. The legs went still as he panned away, searching for his next target.
He didn’t have to look far before he locked onto another moonshiner. This guy was carrying an AR-style rifle and running at a pretty good clip straight toward Ben’s location.