By the Dawn's Early Light

by David Kershner

He looked over at his wife who was smiling from ear to ear, shook his head, and said, “I, Mr. Simmons, promise to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.”

  “Those aren’t the words!” she whined as she scolded him. “You have to repeat after me. Do it right! I, Mr. Simmons.”

  “Okay,” Josh replied in an exacerbated but in a playful tone. Then he proceeded to repeat Rachael’s words.

  “Promise not to freak out like my dad did when my stupid big brother left the chicken coop door open.”

  Josh’s smile disappeared. Something was up and the little girl was putting him through the ringer before she’d say anything about it. He had no other choice but to quickly comply to find out what it was. He stated her pledged words verbatim without playing this time.

  “Okay, good,” she concluded. “You can put your hand down.”

  “So what’s going on Rach,” Sam asked concerned now herself.

  “A few days after those weird talking visitors got here,” she started to say.

  Josh interrupted her with, “You mean the French soldiers?”

  “Yeah, those people. They talk funny,” she answered with a giggle. “A few days later my chickens started waking me up when I’m supposed to be sleeping. They’ve been doin it every morning. So one night, I decided to sneak out there and find out what they were clucking about. And that’s when I saw him!” she stated emphatically.

  Josh visibly stiffened and looked like he was going to stand up.

  “Hey!” Rachael declared. “You promised! No freaking out.”

  Trying to put the little girl at ease, he sat more fully in the Sheriff’s chair.

  “You’re right,” he replied and started shaking his head. “You’re right. I promised. No freaking out. Where is the man now?”

  “In my treehouse, silly. He’s my friend.”

  “I see,” Josh stated as he leaned back casually and crossed his arms imitating Sam’s initial response. “Does he have a name?”

  “Vic!” Rachael answered. “He’s a police occifer, just like Mr. Watson is.”

  “Well that’s good.”

  “Yeah, we have a deal. I bring him my leftovers and he watches over me and my family. Now he wants to meet you.”

  “He does,” Josh declared, taken aback.

  “Uh huh. He says he sees everything and everybody. He knows you’re in charge. He said he followed those weird talking soldiers from some place near the Missi… Missip…”

  “Mississippi?” Sam offered.

  “Yup, that’s the one!”

  “When would he like to meet me?”

  “He said you can come now, but then he said something funny.”

  “What was that, sweetie?” Samantha asked reassuringly.

  “He said you could bring your sidearm if you want, but that you wouldn’t need it.”

  “Why’s that weird?” Josh questioned.

  “Cause your arms are already at your side!” she declared to her own laughter. “He’s always saying funny stuff like that!”

  The over protective father could barely contain himself as they escorted the little girl back to her house on the north end of town. As they approached, shadows and silhouettes started moving around in the treehouse.

  The three stood and stared at the structure for a few moments before Josh said, “Officer Victor Henry from Portland, Oregon?”

  His head abruptly popped up into the child sized window.

  “They made it?” he asked excitedly.

  “Yes,” Josh answered. “Chester, Alysin, and Lily arrived here safe and sound several months ago thanks to you. I’ve already radioed the farm. They’re on their way here now.”

  As Vic started to hurriedly come down the ladder backwards, her husband whispered, “Back away and keep your hand on your pistol. Something’s off about this guy.”

  * * *

  “Be careful, Shades (Evan),” Dallas declared. “We don’t know if there’s anyone still in there.”

  “Copy that,” he replied and stowed his handset and turned toward his team.

  “Okay, guys, let’s do this by the numbers. You three,” Evan declared. “You’re up first. Just remember your training and you’ll be fine.”

  The men he had chosen to breach the door looked stoic, committed. They didn’t need a pep talk. Each of them was intently focused on the mission. The leading team member would kick open the door. The second man would enter first, followed closely by the third.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  The trio nodded.

  “On my mark,” he stated as he stepped aside and stood with the follow-on team that would breach a few seconds later.

  He quickly glanced around at his assault team. All of them were staring at the closed door.

  With a slight movement of his hand, he gave the ‘Go’ command. The first man in line kicked it open and moved to his right just as they had trained. The second and third men immediately began squirting passed him.

  A handful of seconds passed before a delayed fuse triggered an explosion that rocked the entry way. The lead was thrown back into the others and was killed instantly. The blast threw all manner of dust and debris out of the cased opening inundating the trailing men with shrapnel.

  Evan watched helplessly as time seemed to be suspended. The three were tossed around as if they were in slow motion. The concussive blast ruptured his ear drum.

  Only a few seconds went by before the doorway started spewing bullets from whoever was still alive inside. The prone and wounded assault team members were quickly bullet ridden and killed.

  Dallas watched from his perch across the street and radioed it in. “The building’s booby trapped, Rodin. Gimme a couple minutes to clear the team and the bodies, then call in the artillery.”

  Damn it, she thought before replying.

  In as an unemotional tone as was humanly possible, she answered. “Roger that, commencing fire in three minutes.”

  Katherine slowly turned to Brent, “Give ‘Opie’ the adjusted targeting corrections and time table,” she ordered dejectedly.

  The General queued his handset and began relaying the new information.

  “Opie, this is War God, we have a fire mission. Correction from original target, come left 30, drop 200. Target is hostile HQ. Hold fire for three minutes, over.”

  “Copy that,” came the two word reply from the Sheriff. Jim glanced at his watch and then turned in his seat. “Ok, Dick, we need to adjust before the first shot.”

  “I heard, I’m on it,” he declared as he fired up the M110A2’s massive engine. Once the machine’s Detroit diesel settled down into idle, he added, “Adjusting range and deviation now.”

  The seconds ticked down as Dallas hauled ass from his elevated position. In less than a minute, he and his team were assisting Evan with the removal of the dead. Two of the three men were dragged, and then eventually carried, from the area as quickly as possible.

  “Get them as far down the block as you can in the next ninety seconds!” Dallas barked as he and Evan worked to place the last of the deceased into a fireman’s carry on Dallas’s back.

  Twelve miles apart, Katherine and the Sheriff stared at their watches as the few remaining moments wound down.

  With the barrel near its max elevation, the round would arc up and then begin its almost vertical descent. Given the distance, the massive two hundred pound shell would impact its target in less than fifteen seconds after being fired.

  Nearly in unison, the Commander and her artillery team counted down. “Three, two, one…”

  * * *

  “Bloody hell, sir! There’s another one!” the British Army Sergeant stated as the remains of their eighty man strong force staggered down the deserted road.

  “Go see what it says!” the Lieutenant ordered.

  The Sgt. sprinted forward the few hundred yards, read the sign, and came jogging back.

  “Well?”

  “This sixth sign reads, ‘Medical attention,
food, and shelter will be provided to gentlemen’.”

  “You must be joking!”

  “No, sir. That’s what it says.”

  “Bugger me,” the CO said under his breath. “Read off the messages we’ve received thus far, please.”

  “Right! We have,” the Sergeant started to summarize as he removed a notepad from his trousers pockets. “Let’s see, the first one was, ‘You left West Point eight days ago’. Then we received, ‘You lost half your force in Harrisburg, PA’. After that we found, ‘You took gas, food, and med supplies in Everett, PA’, ‘Dropped another quarter and the last of your vehicles in Morgantown, WV’, and ‘Ten KIA’s followed in Parkersburg’.” Then he paused and reflected for a moment before adding, “Sir, do you think it’s possible we’ve stumbled upon some friendly chaps?”

  The commanding officer glanced over at his limping exhausted men then pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Friendlies? No, they are nothing of the sort. All I do know at this point is that his forest has eyes and whoever is painting these signs has thrown every conceivable roadblock at us for nearly five hundred kilometers.”

  “Sir, if I may. It would appear that there is no element of surprise. Our force of five, three of which are wounded, is not going to be taking any towns alone. Our radio is full of holes; we are low on provisions and ammo. If you’re open to suggestion, sir, we might want to see what they are offering.”

  The Lieutenant wasn’t surprised by the man’s words. In fact, he’d been thinking them himself. He couldn’t say it in front of them of course, but now that it was out there, he could make a show of reluctantly agreeing.

  “What say you men?” he asked as he turned toward the remaining three. “Are you in agreement with the Sergeant? Shall we go and see what this chap with the paint brush is carrying on about?”

  The trio looked each other over before one spoke.

  “If it’s all the same to you, sir, we need the medical attention. Simpkins’ leg wounds need treatment. I don’t want to have to cut it off for gangrene.”

  “Bloody hell! For the last time… you’re not cutting it off! Damn witch doctor!” the man replied indignantly.

  “What about you?” the Lt. questioned the third.

  “We’ve got enough food and water for another day before we have to start settings traps and snares. At a minimum, we might want to consider behaving like gentlemen if for nothing more than to be resupplied.”

  The weary Lieutenant half smiled then asked, “And our mission to eradicate the French force in town and find the bounty?”

  Simpkins staggered forward to address his CO.

  “Sir, I believe this little dust-up with the colonies is over for us. They’ve been watching our every move since the Royal Marines took Cleveland.”

  “So surrender then? Is that what the men of the British Army are asking of their Commander?”

  “Not in a million years!” the Sergeant stated forcefully. Then he cleared his throat and struck a more conciliatory tone and added, “However, given our current state, we could negotiate a cessation of hostilities on humanitarian grounds.”

  “Mr. Coker, I believe you’ve missed your calling. You should be at the UN… not in the Army!”

  * * *

  The freight train in the sky screamed toward its target unabated at a mile per second. The forces on the ground had only a handful of precious moments to find shelter before the shell made impact.

  Those residents of the downtown area suddenly became scared out of their minds. The mere sound of the two hundred pound juggernaut thundering through the early morning sky had those present nervously clutching spouses, siblings, and children. Screams of ‘Take cover!’ were being barked at them from the dozen or so men that had been standing and guarding over the flock. As soon as one took to their belly, the rest followed suit.

  Brent and Katherine watched from a structure well short of TK’s headquarters so they could call in corrections until the building was hit.

  The shot had barely exited the M110A2 before the barrel and auto-loader were being lowered into position to pick up and load the next shot.

  The retired General and his protégé watched with baited breath as the sound grew in intensity. On impact, the round seemed to punch a massive hole in the pavement covering the street below. Asphalt, concrete, dirt, and debris were launched into the air with the concussive blast. The explosion knocked out windows and could be felt by anyone within a quarter mile.

  The Sheriff handed his handset to Dick as he directed Juan, Holland, and Abelardo. Dick, in turn, sat eagerly at the controls and listened intently for targeting corrections. Over the whine of the auto loading mechanism, he heard what he was waiting for.

  “Spotting: Over, line. Correction: Drop 50. Fire when ready.”

  Brent’s corrections told him that the shot was on target, but fifty yards over. As soon as the Sheriff had the next round loaded, and the breach closed, he would adjust his range and immediately launch the second shot.

  Katherine observed the impact sight through her binoculars. The Sheriff wasn’t kidding, she thought. Then she turned to Brent and said, “Jim was right. There’s a four or five foot deep, fifteen foot wide crater in the street.”

  Ninety seconds later the freight train sounded the alarm over their heads again as the incoming projectile began it’s descent into downtown Columbus.

  With a whoosh it screamed over them and slammed into TK’s headquarters. It didn’t hit as perfectly she would have liked as it only caught a corner of the building. The impact and the detonation’s concussive blast set off a series of booby traps that had been placed within the structure.

  “Bingo!” Brent proclaimed giddily to Katherine. Then he grabbed the radio the group had seized from Benjamin and excitedly called in the remaining shots. “Fire for effect! Fire for effect! Send two more down using those settings,” he hollered into his mouthpiece.

  At intervals of approximately ninety seconds, the remaining artillery rounds impacted the site and demolished the building. Whoever was in there was now buried under a couple tons of steel and concrete.

  The retired General took great joy in announcing the success of the bombardment over the network.

  “End of mission! Target destroyed!”

  Chapter 28

  “Vic!” Alysin squealed as she leapt from the back of the cart. “You found us!” she declared as she raced toward their reunion.

  Officer Victor Henry, even with weeks of observation, hadn’t laid eyes on any of the three remaining members of the Tin Foil Hat Club. Upon seeing the joy exhibited by the oddest of the Hatters, he dropped his fork onto his breakfast plate of rabbit stew and biscuits. It didn’t take Vic long to extricate himself from the picnic table outside Mama Reni’s and begin lightly jogging toward his long lost friends.

  The embrace broke through his aloof veneer as he began to openly weep in her arms.

  As Alysin held him tight, Chester asked, “And how are you my friend? When did you get here?”

  His new caregiver admonished the old scientist, “Let him have a good cry first before you start peppering him with questions!”

  The other Tin Hatters glanced at one another confused before he started to reply, “But I –.”

  Lily grabbed his arm and gently shook her head. “Just let ‘em be,” she whispered.

  Chester shrugged as he walked past and went to Josh. The pair shook hands as he handed him a hand written piece of paper.

  “What’s this?” Josh asked before upending the document and starting to read.

  “Possibly our worst nightmare.”

  “Really?” he said as he chuckled. “How can this get any worse?”

  “That transmission came over the EBS system at 6:00 AM Eastern Standard Time.”

  With his curiosity fully peaked, Josh raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

  “Same deal as before,” Chester added. “The message played in its entirety a few times and then static. I recorde
d it if you want to hear it later with the Columbus contingent when they get back.”

  “Any news from downtown?” the worried father asked “I re-tasked the riders so we haven’t heard anything downtown. I know I heard the howitzer fire four rounds about half an hour ago.”

  “They cleared the barracks and brothel without much fanfare. TK booby trapped the HQ and we lost a few trying to take it. Katherine opted to cut her losses so she authorized the shelling,” Chester explained before adding, “Dallas sniped a few before Opie leveled the place with a handful of remaining hostiles inside.”

  “What were their losses?” Josh asked with great concern.

  “Tough to tell. The reports are coming through Chillicothe, then to us. She lost three in an explosion at the HQ and almost a dozen wounded or injured throughout the morning. Nothing major by the sound of it.” Then as an afterthought he continued by stating, “We’ve already passed along your message that the big gun doesn’t need to be repositioned.”

  Josh nodded then asked, “Did they manage to find Traci?”

  “Yeah, found her and some others chained to beds in a whorehouse of sorts. They’re bringing her back.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I don’t think so. That’s about all we’ve heard.”

  “Good,” was his only reply as he turned his attention to the sheet of paper in his hand.

  The following message comes directly from President Alan Culpepper.

  My Fellow Americans,

  This is President Culpepper. I don’t know how many of you can hear my voice, but it is my most fervent hope that my message finds you in good spirits and good health.

  Since my last broadcast, our nation has taken the fight to the enemy on all fronts. We have proven ourselves to be the resourceful, courageous nation I always knew we were. Our foreign enemies are in retreat and our domestic traitors have met their end.

  Unfortunately, I do not have a lot of time to explain everything in detail due to the state of the communication and electrical systems, so I’ll be brief.

  First, I would like to announce that we have not been alone in our fight. Through the tireless efforts of President Sarkes, President Rayburn, and myself prior to the blackout, we have been receiving assistance from the French, Dutch, Spanish, and for a time, the Indian armies and navies. Any and all hostilities towards these coalition forces must stop immediately. Embrace these fighting men and women as your brothers and sisters for they have come to our aid during the most critical time of need.