Isolation | Book 4 | Holding On

by Jones, Nathan

  “Then let's not waste any time,” Brighton, one of the other team leaders, said. “Let's get this party started before there's a shift change and they send someone else up here.”

  Denny nodded and motioned curtly, and everyone spread out to their slingshot teams arrayed just out of sight beyond the top of the hill. Nick reached his own team, the McCleese brothers and Charlie on the slingshot with Val serving as spotter. At a nod from him she hurried up to the hilltop to aim their first shot.

  They'd brought pretty much all the Zolos-immune fighters for this attack, leaving those still weakened by the virus to hold the sentry posts and guard their camp. That meant nobody was scouting for the town or camp, but Starr and Darrel's replacement in Stanberry both had their people on high alert in case of trouble.

  Besides, Nick couldn't help but think a bit bitterly, it wasn't like they'd done such a fantastic job repelling Jay's attacks or even giving adequate warning of them up til now; with their track record they might as well go on the offensive and hope they enjoyed the same success.

  Within moments his team was ready, everyone waiting impatiently. Judging by the expectant silence among the rest of the slingshot teams, as well as the teams of fighters waiting with weapons ready in case of an unexpected surprise, everyone else was good to go, too.

  “Everyone ready?” Denny murmured, his words passed down the line. The confirmation quickly came back that aside from one team that was still prepping and would start when they could, everyone was. Denny nodded grimly and motioned to his team. “All right, go for their vehicles. If that's not enough to get them running then Statton, you hit near the Wensbrook camp. We'll go from there.”

  Nick nodded tersely, resisting the urge to ask what they'd do if Jay's fighters charged them instead of running away.

  They'd already covered that eventuality with Starr. It was why they'd picked this location to set up their launchers, since they were covered behind the hilltop and anyone attacking them would have to go uphill across over a hundred yards of open ground to reach them.

  It was as much of an advantage as they could make for themselves for this attack. And, as Starr had grimly but accurately pointed out, if it looked like Jay's thugs were going to reach them then the slingshot teams could just shift their aim from the camps to the attackers.

  As he'd put it, “Coming under sustained rifle fire from hidden enemies with the high ground advantage in the dark is bad enough for morale, but getting pelted by burning rag balls and watching your buddies get set on fire around you should be enough to make even lunatics like Jay's group break and run away.”

  Hard to argue that.

  Denny's team, using tongs and moving carefully, pushed one of the rag balls into the bucket of their launcher. It had room for several more; the teams assigned to hit the tents once everyone in them had fled would be firing the full capacity, a spreading barrage that would hopefully do the job quickly, before Jay had time to react.

  Denny waited for his team to give him the thumbs up that they were on target, then personally pushed the lit punk tied to the end of a long stick into the bucket, igniting the gasoline-soaked rags.

  It lit with an audible whoosh, followed quickly by a thrum as the team released their rope and the bucket sprang forwards, snapping to a stop as the rubber cords reached their limit and sent the makeshift fireball soaring into the sky.

  It was almost pretty, if you ignored what it was meant for.

  There was a distant, muffled crash, Nick guessed from the weighed ball smashing through a vehicle's window. Which was good, assuming it burned the interior and potentially spread to the gas tank.

  “Perfect aim,” Denny called back from his position looking over the hilltop. “That truck's going up like a torch . . . definitely got the attention of everyone in both camps.”

  Nick wanted to ask for more details as their leader fell silent, but forced himself to wait patiently. When Denny cursed he tensed and motioned to Chet, Ben, and Charlie to be ready, moments before Denny called back, “Statton, you're up!”

  Nick's team was already hauling back on the thick rubber cords, while in her perch Val called aiming directions to them. He hurried to grab a rag ball in a pair of tongs and shoved it into the bucket, then snatched up his lighting stick and stood ready.

  “I think you're on target!” Val called, voice tense with fear and excitement.

  Nick nodded and touched his punk to the rags, flinching back as heat washed over him, then nodded to his team. “Go for it.”

  Their fireball soared over the hilltop and out of sight, followed by a sudden chorus of distant screams; he just hoped they weren't screaming because Val's aim had been off and people were on fire.

  Denny cursed again. “They're not abandoning their camps yet. My team, Statton, reload and fire again! Brighton, send a few fireballs left of the camps. Lyman, to the right!”

  More fireballs whooshed to life along the line, swiftly flying into the air. Nick led his team sending off another volley then waited tensely, tongs held ready for further orders. Fifteen seconds passed like an eternity, then thirty, then a minute.

  “Finally, they're evacuating,” Denny said at last, then raised his voice. “All teams, prepare to bombard the camps!”

  Nick began stuffing rag balls into the bucket with his tongs, Val calling out aiming directions. Chet, Ben, and Charlie were just starting to pull the slingshot back when Denny abruptly cursed. “Heads up, security teams, a few brave or insane people down there are charging us!” He raised his voice. “Slingshot team leaders, get up here with your spotters, weapons ready! All teams, start bombarding!”

  Heart in his throat, Nick left Chet to light their payload and handle further loading and lighting, then unslung his rifle and hurried up to drop down beside Val.

  As he settled into position he heard a dozen sharp slapping noises behind him, then the sky overhead was full of fireballs soaring towards the camp below.

  They rained among the tents and vehicles like some sort of cataclysm, rolling down rows and starting dozens of fires. In their lurid glow Nick saw the shadowy shapes of people fleeing in the opposite direction.

  He didn't see anyone in the burning camp, which was a relief. But he did see shadowy figures ducking from cover to cover on the hillside below, making their way up towards him. He hastily took aim with his rifle, trying to find a target among the wavering shadows below.

  “Ready?” he hissed at Val. He saw firelight shimmer on her auburn hair as she nodded grimly, gripping the rifle she'd borrowed from Chet; her shotgun wouldn't be much use at a distance.

  Ten feet away Denny spoke up in a voice a bit above a whisper. He sounded tense, obviously striving for calm but showing some nerves. “Remember Starr's instructions . . . they're night blind and they have no idea where we are. So stay still and wait for them to open fire or until you have a clear target, then aim at their muzzle flashes. And most importantly, as soon as you shoot move to a new position or they'll aim at your muzzle flashes.”

  Starr's advice was no doubt good. But before any of them had a chance to even fire a shot, or any of Jay's people creeping up the hill did, a voice boomed over a megaphone down below, cussing out the idiots who were trying to attack an enemy position in the dark and harshly ordering them to retreat.

  Jay, obviously; if his voice wasn't easily recognizable, his manner of speech was. They'd already heard plenty of it over the radio.

  “Hold your fire!” Denny hissed. “Let them go.”

  The order was unnecessary as far as Nick was concerned; he was just relieved they wouldn't have to fight, and nobody would need to die. He quickly passed Denny's words on to the next team leader, then settled down to watch as the shadowy figures below retraced their steps back towards the infernos of their camps and parked vehicles.

  The slingshot teams' aim hadn't been perfect, but the constant bombardment had managed to ignite most of the tents. They hadn't been as lucky with the vehicles, since some quick thinker down in J
ay's camp had made a point of getting as many out of range of the slingshots as possible. No more than a dozen, but that was probably enough for everyone in both camps to cram in and drive away to safety.

  In a way Nick didn't mind that, even though Starr had been insistent that they do their best to destroy Jay's mobility by taking out his vehicles.

  Nick's reasons were practical as much as merciful. Without vehicles Jay's thugs would be trapped in this area, severely limited in the amount of trouble they could cause. Denny could easily assign a few people to keep an eye on them, and if he was feeling especially merciless could even try to put them in a situation where they were forced to surrender to justice.

  But at the same time, the Wensbrook survivors and their refugee allies had been forced to flee their tents in a panic, probably without much more than the clothes on their backs. Without supplies or vehicles they'd be starving in no time, pinned down and desperate.

  Nick had seen what a vindictive Jay looked like; he didn't want to see a desperate one.

  Even if the vehicles made Jay more dangerous, at least they had a way to flee back to Wensbrook. And without all their stuff they'd have a lot harder time continuing their insane war with Stanberry.

  If nothing else, it would buy the town time. And maybe with things a bit more settled for a while Ellie and Ricky and Hal's family would finally be allowed into the town, along with all the people from the quarantine camp who'd gone through their 21 days.

  This attack wouldn't be a complete victory, guaranteeing an end to the war, but it was a huge stride in the right direction.

  “Okay!” Denny called after another minute or so. “I'd say we've done as much as we can. Let's pack it up and get out of here. Scouts, go ahead of us and make sure our path to the vehicles is still clear. Rearguard, give us a few minutes before following.”

  Nick backed down the hill to help his team untie the slingshot cords from the two trees they'd used, stuff everything but the rags into a pack, and join the other teams following the trail they'd used from the vehicles.

  His radio crackled. It was turned down to be barely audible to his own ears, let alone anyone more than a few feet away, but in spite of that the volume of the speaker's shouting was loud enough to be clearly understood.

  Jay, of course.

  “It's the Zolos survivors from the quarantine camp out there, isn't it?” the Wensbrook leader snarled, sounding more furious, more unhinged than Nick had ever heard him before. “Stanberry doesn't have the stones to leave the safety of their little trash walls, so they're sending you out to do their dirty work.”

  His voice raised, became ragged. “Do you even care that there were women and children in these tents? Innocent people who haven't done anything to you. No, you don't care! You just do what you're told like good little dogs, which is what you are!”

  Nick turned his radio off and increased his pace, catching back up to the team in front of them.

  Jay's accusation stung, but at the same time they'd been careful to wait until the camps had been evacuated before they hit them. They'd done as much as they could to stop that murderer and his cronies without hurting anyone else.

  Especially considering that whose fault was it exactly that Jay's war camp had innocents in it? The man had just driven bombs at a town full of innocent people, murdered one man, and seriously wounded others. And that was just his most recent depredations. The people down there had to have realized that Stanberry would be forced to do something to stop them, but they'd still chosen to stay with Jay.

  They'd made their beds, and now those beds were burning to ashes.

  In only a few minutes Nick and the others were back at the vehicles, no sign of anyone following or lying in wait to ambush. And that was that. They loaded everyone up, the rearguard arriving in time to jump into the waiting vehicles, and drove off, rushing back towards town.

  Nick, in the passenger seat, kept an eye on the rearview mirror for signs of pursuit, but aside from their own convoy there was nothing.

  The attack had gone off without a hitch; something had finally gone right for them.

  ✽✽✽

  Larry screeched his truck to a halt beside the crowd of his friends who'd fled the camp, the other vehicles they'd managed to save skidding to a stop around him.

  Whatever he might say about Jay's leadership, the man did think ahead; rescuing the vehicles before they got firebombed would've been impossible if Jay hadn't made it a point to insist that all keys stay with their vehicle, so his people could respond more quickly in emergencies.

  And as disastrous as this surprise attack from Stanberry had been, it would've been worse if Jay hadn't responded so quickly. He was the one who'd led the evacuation of the camps, before their enemies were able to get on target and start hitting the tents. He'd also sent Larry to retrieve the vehicles, without which they would've been in serious trouble out here in the middle of nowhere, and personally gone to recall their fighters who'd had the bright idea of charging an enemy position in the dark.

  So yeah, the guy might be deranged and leading them down a path that might get them all killed, along with a bunch of other innocent people, but at least he'd saved them tonight.

  Larry climbed out and hurried over to his friends, who were gathered around Jay as he called names, trying to see if anyone had been left behind and needed help. Their Zolos-vulnerable recruits were ten or so yards away, doing their own roll call as the drivers who'd saved their clean vehicles parked nearby.

  That was a relief to see; in spite of the chaos, their new recruits had kept up the quarantine precautions, preventing a disastrous outbreak.

  Jay finished with his roll call as Larry and the other drivers arrived, and turned to them with grim, businesslike efficiency. “How many did you save?”

  “Five for us, eight for the recruits,” Larry replied.

  Their leader grimaced but nodded. “Good, that should be enough if we squeeze.”

  “Then let's get out of here,” Liza, who'd gone with Larry to save the vehicles, blurted, “before they do anything else to us.”

  Jay shook his head. “They're long gone by now, and we should try to salvage what we can from the camps and vehicles. We lost a lot of stuff we really needed here.”

  “Only if we plan to keep going with this insane war against Stanberry,” Larry pointed out. He pointed back at the burning camps. “From the looks of things, they're done playing around.”

  “You want to call us seeking justice insane, after what Stanberry just did to us?” Jay demanded incredulously, drawing shouts of agreement from several people around them. “Only a dozen or so of us have been actively fighting, but they went after everyone. Almost seventy people, including women and children!”

  And who was it who decided to keep those women and children with us? Larry thought. But to be fair, none of them had expected that Stanberry would find them, and certainly not that they'd do something like this.

  He wasn't the only one coming to terms with what had just happened. “You're right, why would they hit our camp at all?” a woman from the Zolos-vulnerable recruits shouted. “We didn't do anything to them, and they tried to burn us alive!”

  “Because they don't care!” Jay shouted back. “You were close to us, and they didn't care if their attack hurt you too. That's the kind of people they are.”

  There was an angry rumble of agreement, people shouting insults at Stanberry, calling for action.

  Larry raised his voice. “To be fair, we did just try to blow up their town and murdered their mayor.”

  “Whose side are you on, Barons?” Jay shouted at him; it came as a shock to hear his friend call him by his last name, as if he was a stranger. Jay continued with such fury that Larry actually took a step back from him. “Every word out of your mouth is how we're the bad guys and Stanberry never did anything to deserve it! You love them so much you'll side with them over your own people, and I'm sick of it!”

  The crowd roared again, their ire
immediately transferring to Larry. He flinched as lifelong friends and neighbors hurled insults and threats his way, then ducked as someone in the back of the crowd actually threw a rock, hitting him in the shoulder.

  “Enough!” Jay shouted, surprising him. “Remember, Stanberry's our enemy! They'll play the victim and pretend they're in the right until even our own friends take their side, and that's why we have to stand against their aggression!” Jay paced like a caged animal in front of the furious, volatile crowd, waving his arms to further rile them up. “We aim only at the people who've wronged us in Stanberry, and in return they try to burn innocent women and children to death! We can't let them keep getting away wi-”

  Something in Larry snapped, and he let out a blistering curse and snatched his rifle off his back, hurling it at the ground at Jay's feet. It hit with a deafening clatter, causing the man to cut off in surprise.

  “You still want to play this game?” Larry demanded, striding forward to glare down at the man who'd once been his closest friend, but who he barely recognized anymore. “This is on us!” he shouted, both at Jay and at the crowd around them. “This is all on us!”

  “On us?” Jay demanded incredulously. “How can you say that when they've-”

  “All! On! Us!” Larry roared. “We've hit them and hit them and hit them while they've stood there begging for us to stop, and then when they finally snap and hit back you act all outraged that they'd do such a monstrous thing. Then you try to use it as an excuse to keep hitting them even harder.”

  He turned to face the crowd. “You want to know how we end the war with Stanberry? We walk away! We literally walk away, and it's over! We're the ones pushing this fight, we're the ones causing thousands of innocent people to cower in fear while we try to tell ourselves we're the good guys!”

  Dead silence greeted his words, everyone staring at him in a mixture of shock and resentment. But not much guilt or remorse, he couldn't help but notice.

  “You want to walk away, no one's stopping you,” Jay shouted, voice shaking. “Although you saw what Stanberry did to us the last time we tried that.”