Brent shrugged. “Given the choices, wasn’t much we could do. We lost a good portion of the town, though.” He pointed to a large pit off in the distance.
“How many of you are left?” Thorton asked, looking over the onlookers.
“’Bout a hundred, give or take. I ain’t counted recently, you understand.” Brent said.
“I’ll get to the point. We’re on a reconnaissance mission to determine whether or not there are usable assets in a given area, specifically any military personnel who may have left post or are defending an area. Tamikara remained silent next to him.
“We would like to spend the night here, if we may, then push on in the morning,” Ken continued.
Brent cocked his head. “Not meanin’ no offense, but how many men are we talkin’ about?”
“Is there a problem?” Thorton asked, his suspicious nature rising quickly.
“Not at all major,” said Rowdan. “Just thinking about supplies and trying to feed all of you.”
Major Thorton smiled and used his winningest smile. “Don’t worry yourself. We will have everything we need.” The look in Thorton’s eyes would have any sane man reaching for a gun.
But Brent just shrugged and signaled for the truck to be moved back and the three military trucks rumbled through the entrance.
Brent’s eyed drifted back to his assembled men and one of them, an older gent, just shook his head. Brent wandered over to the old man and after several heated moments of furious discussion, Brent’s shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. He had just let a viper in his home, now he had to get rid of it.
Inside the perimeter, the trucks moved to the center of the town, where a neat square could be found. The trucks stopped outside the town hall and the men spilled out of the trucks. They stood in squads and their NCO’s issued quiet orders. Safeties were quietly clicked off and magazines covertly checked. Major Thorton and Captain Tamikara huddled together for an instant, then broke apart as Brent Rowdan and about twenty armed men approached the convoy. The men on both sides eyed each other warily as their leaders met again.
Brent was brief. “You all can camp here, there’s still water in the wells for whatever you need. When will you be moving on?”
Thorton looked at Brent a full minute before replying. “All things considered, Mr. Rowdan, I am probably the last ranking officer in the military, which gives me the authority of the United States Government. Technically, this town falls under my authority.”
Brent didn’t look convinced. “Ordinarily, you’d be right. But since your authority comes from the U.S. Government, which don’t rightly exist anymore, leastaways not that we’ve heard of lately, your authority applies just to military personnel.
“We got nothing against you men, long as you’re peaceful, but if you’re otherwise, I’d say you need to move on.”
Thorton looked at Tamikara, who looked at his men. “I understand your concerns, Mr. Rowdan. I really do. But you wouldn’t turn out a group of men who just need a place to sleep for the night, would you?”
Rowdan looked ashamed. “I didn’t mean to send you out now, but I do not agree with your authority over this town. I think you might know why.”
Major Thorton narrowed his eyes and looked down at the smaller man. “Why would that be?” He was not used to being resisted and it rankled.
“You ain’t military,” said an older gent carrying a pump shotgun. “No officer I ever saw carried a revolver like that,” he pointed to the magnum at Thorton’s hip. “And your medals don’t make sense. You got a Navy Cross and a Vietnam Pin, but you ain’t Navy and too young to be in Vietnam.”
Thorton chuckled. “Well, well. It was bound to happen sometime.” He casually drew his revolver and fired it into the chest of the older gent who pointed out the flaws in the ruse. The heavy slug threw the older man back, dead before he hit the ground.
While the rest of the townsmen were shocked for a second at the unprovoked violence, the fake soldiers opened up with their weapons.
It was a slaughter. The townsmen had no chance to react and were cut down mercilessly. Tamikara dispatched three men to deal with the men in the towers and spread the rest out to sweep the town and get rid of any resistance.
“Round them all up and bring them here.” Thorton ordered, standing over the dying bodies of the town’s defenders. “If they fight, kill them.”
In half an hour, the inhabitants of the town had been rounded up. There were many cries of dismay at the bodies of the men who had been shot and many of the women were crying. There were only five men who survived the assault and there were thirty-five women and twenty children who survived as well. Thorton looked over his prisoners and a pretty young girl caught his eye. He smiled. His bed would be warm tonight.
The prisoners were on their knees in the grass, facing the killed defenders. Women held their children and those without children held each other. Thorton stood in front of the dead and addressed the survivors.
“I am Major Thorton and you all belong to me. Whether or not you survive the night depends on how accommodating you are.” A snicker arose from his men’s ranks. The anticipation in the faces of the fake soldiers was evident and many of the women cringed, knowing what was in their future.
“To make you more accommodating, I have an incentive program.” He nodded to his captain, who signaled his men. The men moved through the prisoners and took the children away from their mothers. Every child under the age of ten and over the age of two was taken away. They screamed for their mothers, who were kicked back when they tried to fight off the soldiers. The children were placed into the bed of a truck, with the older ones being told to take care of the younger ones.
Once they were quieted down, three men stationed themselves onto a picnic table that had been moved close to the truck. The men pointed their weapons at the canvas walls of the truck. There were several shrieks from the women.
Thorton spoke again. “If anyone resists, these men open fire. If anyone tries to escape, they open fire. If any of my men is harmed, they open fire. If I am displeased by anything, they will open fire. Do you understand?”
Defeated, there were several nods of agreement. Thorton smiled. “I’m glad we understand each other.” He stepped forward and grabbed the arm of the girl he had picked earlier. There was a moment of anger that passed over her eyes, but she looked at the truck and submitted without a word. “You’re with me. Consider yourself fortunate. I’m real kind to those who like me.”
Thorton dragged the girl over to the nearest house and called over his shoulder “First squad, take the north side of town, find anything that we can use. Second squad, you’re up for weapons and food. Third squad, you get to go first.”
There were whoops of joy at this proclamation and some groans. But louder than both were the cries from the women who were chosen to service the conquerors. Women were dragged into nearby homes, businesses and alleyways to be assaulted. Clothing was ripped off, backs bent over counters and chairs, while hands clawed at the dirt, the floor and bedcovers. Death and pain had come to Lomar.
When one squad was finished, another would begin, so each woman was raped not once, but at least twice. The prettier ones were raped several times, leaving them broken when the men were finished. Supplies were stolen from homes, ammunition hordes were confiscated and useful tools were taken. Cries sounded from the truck in the center of town, scared children who just wanted their mothers and were forced to hear their parents’ screams of pain and humiliation. The men who guarded the truck taunted the children, pointing out to them cries that could be their parents and laughing at the screams of rage and terror.
In the morning, the soldiers brought the women back to the center of town, many of them trying to hold their dignity together with strips of clothing. The mothers ran to the truck and their children were released to them. Tears of joy and concern flowed from both mother and child. The soldiers jeered at the children and women, then aimed their attention at another atrocity. Around the square, from various branches of the cottonwood trees, swayed the bodies of the surviving men. Thorton had the idea to hang them, tying a rope around each man’s throat and lifting him a few feet off the ground.