He turned around. Standing in the brush on the other side of the path was a middle-aged man in camouflage gear. He had grey hair down to his shoulders and was wearing an NRA cap. In his hands was a large pump action shotgun. He nodded at Aidan.
“You alright kid?” Aidan was too stunned to speak. “Come out boys!” the man called as he pumped his shotgun.
Two figures emerged from the shadows wearing identical gear, except they had black ski masks on. They also carried shotguns.
“James, give the kid your jacket,” said the man, coughing and wiping his running nose with the back of his sleeve.
The bigger of the two boys protested.
“But Pa…”
“Now!”
The dogs were getting closer. That meant more soldiers too. The kid pulled off his jacket and threw it at Aidan.
“Thanks,” said Aidan. He began to pull it on immediately. “We should…”
“John, grab the AK47, then you two go back to your places. Same plan we discussed earlier. You, kid, grab your pistol. We got company coming in hot.”
Aidan grabbed his Sig Sauer and followed him. The two boys blended into the trees on the left side of the path while Aidan and the father went to the right. They hunkered down in a cleared cubby with a full view of the clearing. There was a sports bag open on the ground.
“Shouldn’t we run?” Aidan asked.
The man looked at him like he was crazy.
“You soft in the head boy? If you think I’m going to let foreign soldiers run through our forest shooting up the place, you got another thing coming.”
Up close the man didn’t look good at all. His eyes were red-rimmed, and even in the bad light, Aidan could see the yellowish tinge to his skin. Aidan wondered if it was a regular cold or something more sinister as the baying of the dogs reached a crescendo.
The man turned his attention back to the clearing and reached into the bag. Two big black dogs burst through the tree line and headed straight to the body of the Chinese soldier. Doberman Pincers. Aidan knew that their handers wouldn’t be far behind. He raised the Sig again and took a deep breath, comforted slightly by the fact that the odds of him surviving were infinitely better than they had been a few minutes before.
Four soldiers burst into the clearing and fanned around the open space their guns at the ready as they closed in on the dogs who were still sniffing around the body. Aidan could feel the tension of the man beside him and wondered why he hadn’t started shooting yet.
Another man entered the clearing, his pace leisurely and controlled. Aidan recognized him at once as the leader. The man who had shot Flagg and murdered his mother.
The boy felt a white-hot rage at the sight of the man and aimed his gun straight at him. Before he could squeeze the trigger though, the man beside him stood up and lobbed something into the clearing.
The grenade landed dead center. The black clad soldiers froze, only the leader quick enough to dive backwards before it exploded.
The man beside Aidan stepped out and fired his shotgun. The soldier closest to the path took it in the chest, flying backwards onto the snow. The boys across the path emerged. John fired the AK47, mowing down the fourth soldier as the surviving Doberman charged at them.
James fired his shotgun at the dog but missed. It hit him hard, a black streak of bristling savagery. The arm he put up to fend it off was soon in the grip of the animal’s gnashing teeth. John turned around to help his brother, pulling out a hunting knife and stabbing the dog in the back over and over.
Aidan stood and followed the dad who was stalking towards the leader. The murderer was attempting to crawl away. As fast as he’d been to dive away from the grenade, there was a bloody gash in his shoulder. The old man pumped his shotgun as he reached the injured man.
“Where do you think you’re going, asshole?”
The Chinese leader froze, dropping his face into the ground in surrender.
“Please don’t hurt me,” he whimpered.
“Turn over; I won’t ever shoot anyone in the back, not even a worthless invading, piece of shit like you.”
Now that the soldier was helpless on the ground, Aidan’s rage had subsided. He didn’t know how he felt about him being shot like a rabid dog. Maybe they should capture him? Then Aidan could call the number. They would know what to do with the prisoner.
“Okay, okay,” the man whimpered and slowly rolled over.
Bang! Bang!
Suddenly the man who just minutes before had saved his life was falling backwards and the leader was bringing the pistol he’d been hiding to bear on Aidan. Instinct kicked in, and the president’s son squeezed the trigger of his own weapon. He fired five unanswered shots into the chest and belly of his mother’s murderer.
Aidan heard a wail behind him, and one of two boys ran into the clearing falling at his father’s side and burying his face in the old man’s neck. He was dead, his glassy eyes staring up at the cloud covered sky.
The other one came too. He was nursing his arm and was covered in the blood of the dog that had attacked him. Aidan moved away, giving them time to grieve over their father. They talked quietly and after a few minutes composed themselves.
“You, come here,” said the bigger of the two. Aidan approached. “First, give me back my jacket, asshole.”
Aidan wasn’t going to argue; it was his jacket after all. He put the Sig on the ground and stripped off the jacket. The other kid darted in and grabbed the pistol as he handed over the jacket.
“You’re going to help me carry my dad back to our cabin. Then I’ll decide if we let you live or not.”
“What do you mean? Why would you…”
The big kid stepped forward and clubbed Aidan over the ear with his closed fist.
“Shut up! You should be dead, not Pa!” he yelled.
Aidan had fallen to one knee and put his hands over his head to shield himself from further violence.
The bigger boy pulled him up by the collar of his shirt and led him over to the body of their father.
“Come on; you grab his shoulders.”
Aidan followed the order, and together they picked up the dead man and began to carry him out of the clearing and along the path. The younger brother walked behind, holding the AK47.
***
Those steps were the first that Aidan Riley, son of the last President of the United States of America, would take on his journey in the after days of America. Call it bad luck or fate, but his journey would be more arduous and violent than that of some others.
Within a few years, the soft, privileged kid that Aidan Riley had been, would be transformed. He would become a survivor amongst other survivors. Only harder and more ruthless. More ambitious.
Part Two: Homecoming
6
Luke cradled his daughter in his arms the whole way back to Manchester. To Isaac, he looked to be in a state of disbelief. Understandable, given that the whole time he’d been gone, he’d assumed his unborn baby had died along with her mother, Brooke.
Ben drove the Jeep that Randall had gifted them. Isaac rode shotgun. Indigo sat next to Luke in case he needed help with the baby. No one tried to make small talk, it didn’t seem necessary, and Isaac knew his questions for Luke could wait.
For the moment, Randall was keeping the captured members of the Brotherhood and housing the Willatan Green people. Luke had left a note for Diana telling her he would come for them in three days. She had been operated on but was still unconscious. Randall had told him that the doctors had removed the bullet and advised that she should recover without any serious repercussions.
They agreed that Isaac and Luke would return to pick up Diana and her people and to discuss the fate of the captured Brothers with Randall.
***
Baby Erin slept most of the drive back to Manchester, only beginning to stir when they reached the city limits. Isaac looked over his shoulder when the baby began to cry. He couldn’t help laughing when he saw the look on Luke’s
face as he quickly held Erin out to Indigo for rescue.
“She’s just hungry,” said Indigo. “Do you want to feed her?”
“No, it’s okay,” he said, almost pushing the baby into her arms. “I guess I’ll watch the first time.”
Indigo smiled and took her from him, cooing and rocking Erin as she expertly pulled a bottle from the insulated bag between her feet and began to feed the hungry baby. Luke watched carefully, like a kid watching his first science experiment and Isaac had to remind himself that he’d been the same when Max had been born.
“What’s in the bottle?” Luke asked.
“It’s breast milk. Some of the mothers have been expressing milk for Erin.”
“Is that safe?” he asked, his expression horrified.
“Mate, it’s perfectly safe,” said Ben over his shoulder. “Much safer than cow’s milk.”
Indigo laughed.
“Don’t worry; Uncle Ben was just as horrified as you when he found out.”
“I was not,” grumbled Ben.
Isaac mouthed, he was.
“When can she eat… you know, like real food?” Luke asked.
“At about four months we can start giving her pureed fruits and vegetables.”
Luke nodded but looked overwhelmed. Indigo put her hand on his wrist.
“It’ll be fine; we’re all here to help.”
“Thanks. I have a feeling I’ll need it.”
***
Indigo and Ben took Erin upstairs when they arrived back in Manchester. The building they had made their home was just referred to as ‘The Tower’ now, and Luke had been mobbed like a rock star when he arrived.
As tired and sore as he was he couldn’t fail to be anything but overwhelmed by the reception. He doled out lots of hugs and answered as many questions as he could before Isaac dispersed the crowd.
“Okay, everybody! Enough questions for now! We’ll have a feast tomorrow night in celebration of Luke’s return. Come on, everybody back to it!”
The crowd dispersed reluctantly, some going back inside and others milling around talking happily. Isaac began pointing out work they’d done on the outside of the building when Luke noticed a small figure standing and staring at him.
Isaac interrupted his account of the work they’d been undertaking since he’d been gone.
“I believe you’ve met Cade,” he said.
Luke stepped over to the kid and ruffled his hair.
“Sure have, how you are doing kiddo. You settled in okay?”
The boy craned his neck to look up at Luke, the man he’d watched kill his father less than a month before.
“I’m good Mister. Everyone has been real nice.”
Luke smiled. He looked like a different child to the dirty urchin he’d sent to Indigo before he left. His hair was clean and parted on the side, and he was wearing a worn, but spotless pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. Aside from the clothes and cleanliness though, there was something else. The kid looked happy.
“Glad to hear it. Tell you what, go on and play with the other kids and I’ll come to find you later for some catch or something.”
“Sure,” said Cade. “I’m glad you got back safe.”
The two men watched him go.
“No troubles?”
“No,” said Isaac. “He seems to be a good kid, but we keep an eye on him. Hopefully, he’s young enough to forget the trauma of what he’s seen and experienced.”
“Yeah. I hope so. What happened with the Marauders?”
“I told Colonel Randall about the quick discussion I’d had with their general, that Jarrod kid. He seemed straight up to me, so Randall had a team monitor Ashland for us. They seemed to have given up their aggressive ways and settled in to try and make a fist of it. Time will tell I guess. He’s due to come and meet with us in two more months, so we’ll have a better idea then. In the meantime, Randall is keeping a close eye on them.”
Luke nodded, then put his arm around his friend’s shoulder.
“So, I like what you’ve done with the place. Show me more.”
“How’s the leg holding up. You sure you don’t want to rest?”
“It’s sore. I’m okay for now though. I might lay up for a while after we’re done.”
For the next half hour, Isaac showed Luke, who walked with the aid of a beaten-up old crutch, around their ‘compound.’
Using heavy machinery kindly lent to them by Concord, they had set up a perimeter around the Brady-Sullivan tower, sealing off the roads in and out with blocks of granite taken from other parts of the city. Not enough to keep out anyone on foot, but enough to stop vehicles getting anywhere close.
The compound was bordered by Elm street, in the east, River road in the west and north and south by West North street and West Salmon street.
“It’s a big area but should be easy to defend once we get fences up. Jamal’s crew is going to start working on that now that the granite blocks are in place.”
“We have electricity I see? Randall again?”
Luke had noticed lights on in the foyer when they had arrived.
“Yep, we wouldn’t have made anywhere near the progress we have without their help. He reckons we should have running water within a month. Won’t that be something?”
“Amazing. You know about the professor then?”
“Yeah,” said Isaac. “I feel sorry for him, but he seems happy enough.”
“Well, he’s still a genius apparently.”
“He is. His latest project is a small oil refinery so that we can have gasoline and other stuff.”
“Seriously?” asked Luke, his interest piqued as he thought of a good use for fresh gasoline. “That would be huge. There is so much oil in storage, if they can make it into gas it would be a humungous advancement.”
“Well, apparently it’s not so hard. They explained it to me, but it went in one ear and out the other, but if anyone can pull it off it’s the professor.”
They went inside after that. The foyer had become a bit of a gathering ground for people. There were tables and chairs set up all across the floor and in one corner a bunch of kids of various ages, watched a cartoon movie on TV.
“Ava and Allie set that up for the kids. Of course, none of them had ever seen a movie before, let alone a working TV. They’ve watched the same three movies over and over again.”
“I’m tempted to watch one myself! I never thought I’d see a movie again.”
“Confession,” Isaac laughed. “Indigo and I have been arguing over who gets to bring Max down to watch The Iron Giant.”
“No way!” said Luke. “I love that movie. Playdate tonight dude! I’ll see if Ben will babysit Erin and I’ll bring Cade, you bring Max.”
“You’re on. Are you ready to go up to see your room?”
“Sure. But it will take me an age to climb those stairs with this leg of mine.”
“We have power remember?” Isaac said leading him to the elevator doors. “Only one is working right now, but it’s probably all we need for the time being. We’ve restricted it to people the top ten floors; everyone else must use the fire stairs. You and Erin are on the top story with us. Between our room and Ben’s.”
“Okay.”
Luke was silent on the way up, Isaac’s words hammering home the fact that he would be living and raising his baby daughter on his own. Tears filled his eyes. Tears for Brooke who never got to see her baby. Tears for Erin, who would never know her mother. Tears for himself.
Isaac sensed his friend’s mood had darkened and he pointed out the rooms and who they belonged to. It was a blur for Luke, who was unable to pay attention. They got to the room, and Isaac handed him the key.
“Thanks, man. Do you think Indigo would mind watching Erin for a bit longer if I lay down for a while? My leg hurts like hell.”
“Of course not!” said Isaac. “Take as long as you need. Just knock on our door when you’re ready.”
Luke went in and closed the door. The conver
ted office was spacious and had two single beds pushed together, along with some other furniture that had been taken from the hotel where they had spent the first few nights in Manchester. He leaned back against the door and looked up as his tears began to flow. After a few minutes, he went to the bed and lay down without taking off his boots.
Despite the emotions and his sore leg, he fell into an exhausted sleep within ten minutes.
7
Rochester NY
The sun was shining as William Orton left the Police building on Exchange street and began the ten-minute walk to the Brownhouse on Church street. That’s what Aidan Riley had named the old City Hall building, and it had stuck. Orton thought it was stupid. Just as stupid as taking on the title of ‘President’ and calling their flourishing nation state ‘New America’.
Still, he wasn’t going to argue with him. Riley was president in name, but he was in fact, a dictator. He’d become a leader through strength and aggression and, while not a tyrant, there was no doubt he was in charge.
And William Orton was his right-hand man.
In the three years since they had met, he had watched and helped Riley transform from a tough teen survivor who’d managed to pull together and lead a large group of survivors, into the strong leader of a true nation state.
They had fallen into each other’s orbits a year after the Chinese had been pushed back beyond the Mississippi. William and his crew had been forced to move on from their ‘gingerbread’ house as bigger groups had begun to roam and loot the area around them.
They had been a group of three when they left. Him, Beau and Ryan. He’d executed their fourth friend Rodney six months before. Always a little unstable, the kid had gone stir crazy or something and putting him down had seemed like the only option at the time.
They grew to twenty after a month on the road. Orton knew that he needed numbers to survive and willingly recruited people along the way to Lake Ontario.
There was no real reason to go there, except that Ryan’s grandfather had a cabin on two acres. Ryan said it was secluded and big enough to hide out on, given that it was half covered with forest. As a bonus, it had a fully stocked fallout shelter. His grandfather had been a well-known survivalist, not that it had done him much good. He’d had a heart attack two months before the attack.
Fight Like Hell [America Falls Series | Books 1-6] Page 87
