The Chainbreakers had found and eliminated more than a dozen slaver raids while the enemy was in that stage of gathering more vehicles and scouting out the area, and Renault wasn't about to find his company with the shoe on the other foot. So he sent out some of his best people as scouts across the river to find targets and scope out the area days or even weeks before the planned raid, one or two true professionals who could sneak up on a roomful of spooked cats and didn't miss a detail.
As for when it was time to cross, well, that was when they got real careful.
When Pete was satisfied there was nobody around he signaled to the others, and Jack returned the all clear. Down below Nelson repeated the signal from the scouts across the river, all clear on that side, then trotted over to the unassuming tangle of deadfall that had naturally accumulated at a slow bend in the river.
After one last look around the man slipped inside.
It was always interesting to watch the deadfall come apart as the front, which was tied together to make a door, was released and the current pulled it away from the opening. But Pete could only snatch glimpses of it as he continued carefully searching the area around them for prying eyes.
The deadfall shifted slightly as the door juddered to a halt, all the way open with the river current swirling around its final ties to the pile of flotsam. Moments later he heard the rumble of an engine starting, and soon the ferry putted its way out of its hiding place and began chugging across the river towards the vehicles on the other side. Chavez already had one truck pulled up to the very edge of the river, ready to be loaded on.
The ferry was just big enough to handle one truck at a time. That was why Epsilon erred on the side of caution and brought as few vehicles as possible, packing the freed slaves like sardines in the back of those they brought alongside equally cramped Chainbreakers.
They didn't dare risk too many crossings when it was so vital the ferry's hiding place remain secret.
Usually they only ferried one vehicle across, and the only reason they'd done two this time was because they'd gotten word of the logging camp from a freed slave, as well as its location, but no more detail than that. They hadn't known how many people they'd be rescuing, or if they'd be able to capture any vehicles, so they brought the extra along.
Which was a good thing, since as it turned out they hadn't been able to capture any vehicles, and thirty-one people was a bit cramped for two trucks. Not as cramped as it could've been, sure, and they might've handled as many as ten or fifteen more if really necessary. But one truck definitely couldn't have done the job unless they'd all stacked up on top of each other like firewood.
Pete did another sweep of his assigned area. According to Nelson this wasn't the first place they'd hidden the ferry, although moving it and creating a new hiding space was incredibly labor intensive, not to mention dangerous. But at even the risk it might be discovered the Chainbreakers moved it, and they also moved it every few months just to be safe.
It was their only way of getting vehicles into the CCZ within a hundred miles, which meant it was their only real way of mounting raids on slavers and freeing slaves in this area. The Canadian government wasn't quite ready to kill innocents to protect the ferry's secret, but they had definitely detained a few citizens who'd happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, at least until the ferry was moved again.
Even then they'd sworn the hapless passersby to secrecy on anything they might know, on pain of arrest on charges of treason. Just knowing about the ferry might be enough to get the CCZ looking in the right places, and they couldn't risk that.
The two trucks were taken across one by one as quickly as possible, all eyes on the surrounding area searching for any hint of discovery. As far as Pete could tell there was none, and certainly no threats he could see. They stowed the ferry back in its deadfall hiding place, replaced the cover and made sure it was secure and didn't stand out as suspicious, then piled into the trucks and drove south for Lafayette.
“Well that went well,” Jack said, sitting beside Pete staring out the back of the truck at the road behind them. “Good start to our time in Epsilon Squad, right?”
Pete thought of the overseer, Torm standing over him delighting in his fear, and his stomach curdled. “Sure,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Fingers crossed they all turn out so well.”
They arrived in Lafayette a bit over two hours later, crossing the Mississippi again via the sturdy bridge the Canadian government had built to make the spit of land more easily accessible. True to Captain Simard's vision of five years ago, the military was finally managing to push for the territory along the eastern bank of the Missouri, west of the Mississippi. In another few years they'd probably hold everything east of the Missouri all the way to its headwaters, so that above the point where it joined the Mississippi it would become the new border between Canada and the CCZ.
The military camp was expecting their arrival, and a few officers and some civilian aid workers were there to greet the freed slaves as they were dropped off just outside the motor pool. The emaciated loggers hesitantly allowed themselves to be led off to the side for a brief orientation on what would happen next, as well as so they could be asked who they were, where they'd come from and what country they were citizens of, and if they knew of any surviving family who could be contacted.
Pete helped his squad park the trucks in the motor pool and sort out all the loot for the quartermaster, making sure the tarp full of valuables was given over intact like he'd intended. When he finally followed the rest of the squad through the motor pool's front gate he noticed that Fred Vernon had joined the group of freed slaves, and from the looks of it was interviewing them about their experiences.
That struck him as more than a little suspicious, especially since that didn't seem to be part of the man's duties and he'd just arrived out of nowhere. Was the former sheriff trying to ferret out dirt on Epsilon squad he could use to go after Pete again?
Normally Pete wouldn't have been bothered by that at all, since he'd been lucky enough to fight beside mostly good men up til now. But unfortunately Epsilon did have dirt the former sheriff could use. Those rescued loggers might be grateful, but if any of them decided to mention the overseer's macabre musical accompaniment to yesterday's lunch Vernon would definitely find a way to use it.
As if the former sheriff could sense Pete's eyes on him he looked up. With a slight smirk the man mockingly tipped an imaginary hat, finishing it off by tapping under his eye as if to remind Pete of the fading bruises still visible there.
With a start Pete realized his fists were clenched so tight they'd become knots of pain. Vernon had used his position of influence to sic four men on him and escape any consequences for that act. He'd likely continue to use that power to make Pete's life miserable any way he could.
If there was any balance in the universe the guy would've fallen down a well by now and never been rescued. Compared to the vileness of slavers Vernon might be just a miserable slug, but even so he was the sort of weasel Pete despised.
If only he'd gotten in a few more solid punches five years ago. Broken the guy's nose at least, something to remember him by.
Pete looked away from the man before he lost his cool and did something stupid, and with a start realized that one of the civilian aid workers helping the freed slaves was Lily.
The young woman was carrying a sack of clean clothes, distributing them among the emaciated loggers. She'd probably been assigned the task as part of her laundress job, but that didn't change the effusive gratitude offered by the men she passed the worn but sturdy clothing out to.
Lily looked up and saw Pete watching. He tensed, half expecting her to look away and pretend she hadn't seen him. It would've been what he deserved after the way he'd acted his first day in Lafayette.
Instead the young woman brightened and waved eagerly, then broke away from her work to come over and throw her arms around him. “I'm glad you made it back all right,” she said. “I was worried
the entire time you were gone.”
Pete hadn't even realized she knew he was leaving. He hadn't had the courage to say goodbye, or even let her know he'd be raiding far within the borders of the CCZ. But he supposed news got around camp and she did work here.
He tentatively hugged her back, ignoring snickers from his squad mates. Technically he wasn't supposed to go around hugging civilians while on duty, but she was the one who'd hugged him so it was okay, right? “I wasn't sure you even wanted to see me again after I was such a jerk,” he admitted.
Lily frowned, but her green eyes danced with amusement. “After everything you did for me, you think I'd suddenly start hating you just because you had a bad day and were a bit rude?”
“I doubt Kathleen will be that forgiving,” he said. “And definitely not Bryce.”
The young woman waved that aside. “You freaked out because you were afraid she was going to die during pregnancy. It definitely wasn't the reasonable or correct way to act on that fear, but I'm sure they'll eventually see where you were coming from. Especially when you have good reason, right? I mean you never told me how things with Abella ended up, I just assumed that's wh-” she abruptly cut off, giving him an anxious look when she saw his reaction.
Pete had stepped away, although he kept himself from reaching for his ring and tried to think about this conversation instead of the past.
Eventually, huh? Guess he really had burned his bridges with Kathleen, not that he blamed her. Oh well, at least he hadn't pushed Lily away like he'd been dreading. He did his best to smile. “Well if you can stand to be around me I guess I should keep that promise I made about buying dinner.”
The young woman's eyes lit up and a faint flush crept into her cheeks, and Pete suddenly had the uneasy feeling he'd just given her the wrong idea. She was a lovely young woman, which he certainly hadn't failed to notice. Honestly she was beautiful in a way you rarely saw in these harsh conditions since the Gulf burned, not least of all because of her bright attitude and friendly personality even after everything she'd suffered.
But given their past, not to mention the fact that she'd been thirteen when he'd last seen her and he still pictured her as a child in his mind, asking her out would feel weird and borderline inappropriate. He hadn't been lying with what he said to Monty five days ago about thinking of her as practically a little sister.
Besides, Lily was dating Kathleen's cousin, wasn't she? And he was probably misjudging her reaction anyway, since it was beyond arrogant of him to assume she'd be interested in a bitter, emotionally scarred, dirt poor soldier half a decade older than her when she could have her pick of anyone in Lafayette.
Pete hastily tried to clarify. “To repay you, Kathleen, and Bryce for dinner the night I got here, that is. I'd appreciate it if you'd ask them for me, and let them know even if they don't accept that the offer's always there if they change their minds.” He smiled wanly. “I promise I'll be more well behaved next time.”
The young woman didn't seem disappointed or insulted at what probably looked like clumsy backpedaling from him. “Okay. Maybe afterwards I can treat you to a movie, then. It's been way too long since I've had a chance to really relax and enjoy myself. How does tonight sound?”
He blinked, taken off guard. “Oh, um . . .”
Lily looped an arm through his, face adopting that same cutesy, exaggeratedly woeful look of pleading she'd used on him to get her way years ago. “Come on, everyone knows squads get time off after a raid. You're free and you offered, so don't try to wiggle out of it now.”
Pete couldn't help but grin as a surge of fond memories came rushing back at the sight of that familiar expression. “Okay fine. Let's meet up when you get off work.”
That was a long time away, and Pete wasn't really in the mood to hang out with his squad mates at the moment, especially if Torm was around. So he changed into civvies and wandered out into town to explore, get to know people, and maybe ask some questions about the Chainbreakers and just what people thought of them.
Unfortunately what most of those he talked to thought was pretty accurate to what he'd seen from Epsilon yesterday.
It was a bit depressing to realize the situation he'd walked into and see most of his illusions about his old company shattered. Then again, his cynical side kept telling him that disillusionment was just another word for reality.
The only thing that kept Pete from finding the nearest Chainbreaker-friendly bar and drinking himself under the table was that he was meeting Lily later. Instead he headed back to his barrack, relieved to see that Torm wasn't there, and sprawled across his cot to catch up on some sleep.
* * * * *
To Pete's relief his evening with Lily was as platonic as he'd hoped; just two friends enjoying spending time together after being apart for years.
Lily was her usual chatty self, keeping the conversation light and easy. She seemed pretty perceptive to his moods and avoided talking about the war or the 103rd or anything military related. Instead she asked him about what living in Saskatoon had been like when he had time off, and told him a bit about her experiences in Lafayette.
She even introduced him to friends and acquaintances she ran into while they were at the restaurant, walking through town, and while waiting for the movie to start. That seemed like a huge number of people, to the point where Pete began to wonder if the young woman knew everyone in Lafayette.
And it didn't escape his notice that more than a few of them were young men, not just soldiers but civilians from the town, who obviously wanted to be more than just Lily's friends. He tried not to feel jealous since he certainly didn't have that right, but he couldn't help but get a little protective of the girl he'd saved from Lost Home, then spent months doing his best to care for so long ago.
He walked her home as it started to get dark, and accepted a goodbye hug from her before she darted through the gate and up the crushed gravel walk to her door. Through the front window Pete thought he caught a glimpse of eyes peeking out, and he smiled and waved. The eyes vanished, and moments later Lily did too as she slipped through the door with a final wave and shut it behind her.
It had been a nice night, but for some reason Pete felt oddly depressed as he walked back to his squad's barrack.
At least he didn't get jumped by Vernon's goons this time. That was a plus.
Chapter Fifteen
Routine
As the weeks went by Pete realized his original assessment of Chavez as having an ordinary face was actually far off the mark. The best way he could describe it was that it was . . . memorable.
Only it didn't immediately stick out as odd. At first glance you just got the impression that the sergeant looked a little off, but nothing shocking. It was only after a longer, closer look, or many over a long period of time for that matter, that you started to notice things.
One side of his face sagged slightly, like he'd suffered a stroke or some other malady he was decades too young for. His nose had obviously been broken and pulled slightly to one side, furthering the lopsided features. So did the fact that one ear was a bit lower than the other, and that his sharp widow's peak was slightly off-center, which was only compounded by the fact that his hairline was receding more on one side than the other.
To add to all that Chavez definitely had a lean to him, like one leg was shorter. Most of the time he compensated by leaning even farther the other way, or leaning against any handy object and standing with one leg propped up.
Which was all to say that at first the man looked fairly normal, but the longer you looked at him and noticed all those slight details the uglier he got.
Or maybe Pete was just seeing Chavez's temperament in his appearance, since the sergeant definitely wasn't the kindest person he'd ever met. Or the most sympathetic. And that was to the new soldiers in his squad: to his enemies he was a terror.
Maybe that was why he seemed to like Torm so much.
As for the “interrogator”, obviously his name was a nickname. S
hort for Torment, small surprise. But unlike most nicknames this one the man had chosen for himself, and even his own squad mates were creeped out by it enough that they'd shortened it so they wouldn't have to openly say what he was or acknowledge what he did.
The other soldiers of Epsilon squad weren't so bad. They looked the other way when Torm crossed the line during his interrogations, but few seemed to openly approve of it. Pete thought that if the man's victims weren't slavers most would probably head straight to the nearest officer and try to put a stop to it.
As for Pete, he kept asking myself why he wasn't doing just that. Jack didn't seem to care one way or another, and Monty was an eager recruit who went along with those in charge regardless of what he felt about the situation. Pete had the feeling both were looking to him as the person to do something about it, and since he wasn't that must mean he tacitly approved, so they shouldn't do anything either.
It wasn't a great feeling, knowing that.
Although to be fair that one bit of unpleasantness seemed to be Epsilon's only real flaw, and it was one that reared its head only those relatively few times when the sergeant thought a slaver had information he needed. Other than that the squad was mostly respectable.
Chavez didn't go after civilians, he genuinely seemed to care about freeing slaves and did a good job seeing to their wellbeing, he made sure his men were honest when it came to the loot they brought back, and during a fight he was probably one of the best leaders Pete had ever seen.
So he had to admit that whatever he felt about his new squad, out of all the soldiers he'd ever fought beside they were some of the most skilled, dangerous, tough, and effective SOBs he could hope for. They stood out as exceptional even in the 103rd.
Over the next month they went on a dozen raids and twice that many patrols. They engaged with slavers fourteen times and suffered zero losses and only one minor casualty. They even coordinated with several other Chainbreaker squads to attack a CCZ base at one point, one well known for being home to three brothels staffed by slaves and five work details of slave labor devoted to military use.
Nuclear Winter | Book 3 | Chain Breakers Page 28
