Youngblood

by H. Peter Alesso

  Each captain repeated the order.

  The men thrust their guns forward, aimed, and fired.

  Then everything changed.

  The guns exploded in a thundering blast. It was like a scene from an inferno, chaos and havoc descended. The men’s earlier numbness disappeared, and they grinned and gestured wildly. The din of battle raged around him.

  Together amass, the men emerged from the gully and started to storm the portal redoubt. The unnerving dark was finally broken by a series of bright noisy explosions. It was rifle range, the fire was steady, and several men dropped dead in front of him their eyes staring blankly.

  Youngblood wanted to strike the enemy position in a single wave, but it was a ragged disorganized line when it reached the enemy trench. The men were out of breath and fumbling, falling into the trench and climbing back out the other side.

  A face loomed in front of Youngblood; the man screamed like a fiend. Youngblood shot him, and he dropped to the ground.

  Jarod’s guards were slow to react to the surprise attack, but they rallied.

  The battle was now inside the trench and around the portal barricade. Guns flashed, but so far only a trickle of men had penetrated the enemy position.

  At that, the enemy rallied and nearly threw back the first wave of attackers. Youngblood ran into the thick of battle to restore the situation.

  “Here they come again,” cried one.

  A few men were running behind the barricade.

  On this side of the barricade, they had better shelter and returned fire.

  The main body of the defenders continued a ragged fired.

  Youngblood ordered William, “They’re not fools to waste ammunition and lives without a purpose. They’re up to something. Send a detail to cover our flank.”

  He did not want anyone to guess at his trepidation and bitterness.

  He didn’t want to issue an order he himself was not prepared to carry out.

  Lack of sleep and worry and a sense of guilt worked to shorten his temper. He might have had sympathy for the thought except that he was numb with concern.

  What’s happening?

  Breathlessly, he dropped to the ground.

  Dark swooping shadows wheeled toward him on the left.

  Regaining his feet, he continued to shoot at the blinding flashes coming from the enemy.

  He found himself separated from his men.

  He blinked: he was surrounded!

  BANG!

  Am I hit?

  A piercing pain in his shoulder told him where the bullet had penetrated. He dropped to the ground. Waves of grief washed over him.

  Perhaps, it would be a worthwhile death that would add meaning to the tragic events of his life, especially given his own lack of faith in his own capacity. The fighting madness ebbed away replaced by a somber mood.

  His mind calculated that there were still things he had to do.

  He got up and reproached himself, “Get going.”

  For several minutes he fought a one-man battle against the enemy, but then he saw Pyro and Kira come to his aid.

  “All together now,” Youngblood bellowed to those who had come to him.

  They pushed together against the barricade, breaking through the enemy’s last thin line of defense.

  The last of the defenders surrendered.

  The portal was his.

  Malcolm said, “We drove them from the field, but now some have fled inside the tunnels to the bunker. That’s bad luck.”

  “Bad luck? This may prove to be a blessing.”

  “What do you mean?” William asked.

  Youngblood said, “We need only adjust our plans to find ourselves in the final battle.”

  It was now time to put the second half of his plan into action—launch an attack on the men in the underground city. Youngblood and his little army gathered at the entrance to the underground tunnel. He prepared to open the bulkhead doors using his hacked software.

  “Stay there and wait for my signal,” he said, “I’ll call you when it’s time to send in our assault troops. I’m going to go inside and hack the security controls and open the inner security doors. Then you can lead the assault.”

  The smoke and damage from the bombardment hid Youngblood as he crawled into the subterranean tunnel. He climbed down the portal entry ladder to a landing with a computer security keypad. There he entered the codes to open the tunnels doors.

  “Youngblood!” called William, his voice high pitched and tense.

  “Yes. Is everyone else there?”

  “We’re waiting on your word.”

  “Start sending men down. Gather around,” said Youngblood.

  “Yeah, we’re ready,” said Mack.

  Once the men were inside the tunnels, Youngblood stepped through the security hatch and into the compartment.

  He ordered, “Follow me,” and he ran off at full speed.

  The militia flooded into the tunnel and entered the Yosemite bunker. They found Jarod’s gang in chaos. The dust and debris of broken ramparts and bulkheads were everywhere. The fortress was in a state of devastation and confusion. Half the weapons were already blown up and in a rubble heap. Many of the remaining weapons were either disabled or unmanned. The men were not being directed. Many of the garrison men were either dead or had fled. The remaining men were disheartened and reduced to helplessness by a complete failure of leadership.

  The stench of stale air hit Youngblood as he entered the tunnel. He realized that the ventilation system might be damaged.

  The tunnels were arrayed as eight spokes in a wheel leading to the central hub of the ten-mile diameter city complex that was Yosemite. Dimly lit, it had debris scattered on the floor and cracks in the ceiling and walls.

  He led one company to the security control center.

  Mack asked, “How much longer can the enemy hold out?”

  Youngblood chided him. “Look sharp. Move the men forward to avoid wasting lives.”

  But as the militia penetrated deeper, the enemy resisted as they fled deeper into the city.

  Youngblood took over the crumbling defenses. He issued a string of rapid orders to those around him.

  He ordered, “Fire.”

  The human wreckage of wounded, dead, and dying, littered the area.

  The heavy fighting continued against a stubborn enemy resistance. They made slow small pushes, crawling some places then sprinting from one spot to another. He pushed forward overrunning their position.

  Not waiting for the enemy to recover, they pursued.

  Youngblood led the attack on the security control center which was a vital target. He led the first wave to deliver a crushing blow to an already staggering enemy, but an earsplitting explosion knocked him flat.

  KABOOOM!

  His senses told him something was wrong. It took several minutes before he shook off the effects of the concussion. He took a deep breath. The acrid fumes of fire stung his nose. When he opened his eyes, he lay on the ground. It was several seconds before he was able to struggle painfully to his feet. His skull felt as if it were split in two and warm blood trickled down his left ear and cheek. He tried to dismiss the pain, but it stressed him because there were things he needed to do—here and now.

  Youngblood said, “Mack, take your men and secure the main galley of the huge sliding doors.”

  “Will do.”

  “Lew, you and your men hit the armory and communications. William, you and the rest move into the residential section.”

  When he entered the corridor, Youngblood peeked around the corner. He darted from one position to another. His men fell back into the corridor and laid down heavy fire, forcing the enemy to the far end.

  While several of his men laid down covering fire, Youngblood tapped into the AI control pane and gained control of the door locking mechanisms. He opened all doors.

  One man charged at him. A shot rang out; he staggered and fell, mortally wounded.

  Youngblood’s men kep
t up a steady fire, and under his direction, they drove the enemy back.

  Footsteps approached. It was William bringing up more men. As he turned around, he found Kira at his side, her face eager and ready to go forward. Calmer now, Youngblood observed the enemy running away down the tunnel.

  Pyro opened fire and engaged them in the firefight. Together they targeted the enemy.

  Rapid firing his gun, Youngblood soon heard the click of empty chambers. Letting the gun fall from his hands, he pulled out a grenade and hurled it forward.

  Got to keep fighting . . .

  Peering over his shoulder, he tripped on some debris. As he crashed to the deck, he lay still and listened.

  He held his breath.

  Who is that?

  It was Kira! From behind, she had picked off several of the more exposed with her bow and arrow.

  Youngblood continued to move toward the fiercest fighting. A few men rallied with him.

  Each frenzied assault was met by stubborn resistance in a final desperate act. Finally, Youngblood found himself, fighting hand to hand.

  “Damn!” cried Pyro.

  “Keep moving,” said Youngblood.

  “There’s no choice.”

  Youngblood narrowed his eyes.

  A moment later, Kira asked, “What are you going to do?”

  “Let’s go,” said Youngblood, running through the open door.

  BANG!

  Jarod’s men opened fire as they ran into the narrow corridor.

  Youngblood stopped when they came to a fork in the hallway.

  “Which way?” asked Kira.

  “Pyro, you take some men and go left. The rest follow me.”

  Youngblood scanned the corridor but ran into a group of defenders.

  He could hear an occasion explosion somewhere far away in the depths of the tunnels. Before him, were mobs of the slaves running for shelter. The refugees were screaming wildly in panic fleeing as fast as they could manage.

  “Here they come again. They have no discipline. Let’s give them more of the same.”

  Shouts and shots from the flank caught their attention.

  Those were brave words; would he live up to them? He grabbed Kira’s arm and pulled her in his direction.

  Pyro reported, “It looks like there are still pockets of fighting, but the main organized resistance is broken.”

  The remaining enemy couldn’t mount a coherent defense. They continued to fight in small bands, wherever they could. They fired pistols, rifles, and tossed a few grenades.

  They fought for another few minutes and then it was all over.

  The gang members in this area surrendered.

  Youngblood looked up, his stomach squeezed into a knot. He ordered, “Take these men to prison.”

  He faced the anticlimax of the battle with impatience. He could not relax; it seemed the strain and tension would not leave him.

  But after a while, he was able to allow his mind to slip into a more relaxed state after the fury died down. Now his mind was clear, and he could see the situation.

  There were his men, there were the refugees, and there was the enemy.

  Where is Jarod?

  Chapter 29

  Surrender or Die

  After hours of non-stop violence and bloodshed, the militia had had no sleep and little food or water. They had engaged in hand-to-hand combat against the gang throughout the bunker. Even though they had taken serious casualties they were taking care of the wounded and recovering.

  They established a hospital for the wounded as well as a makeshift prison for the prisoners. In a large auditorium, they gathered the former slaves of the Jarod gang and tended to their needs.

  Pyro led a long line of former slaves out of the depths of the bunker into an open plaza where they were cared for and able to greet long-lost relatives. Unfortunately, Pyro’s parents weren’t among them.

  At each tunnel junction within the Yosemite bunker complex, a militia sentry was posted.

  Youngblood and Kira stood in the security control room scanning a computer viewscreen to evaluate the military situation. The militia occupied most of the bunker while the remnants of Jarod’s men were collected in the south end of the complex near the subway interchange with access to the trams and tunnel system.

  “Kira, you can see from this map that we hold most of the bunker, leaving Jarod’s remaining men few options. Now that we have this security office, we can control all the remaining security doors and computer access points. Jarod will have no choice but to abandon the complex and flee.”

  “He’ll know by now we’ve him outfoxed. He may try a desperate gamble.”

  “Very likely.”

  They looked at the people gathered in the central plaza.

  Kira said, “We better get ready for a counterattack from Jarod. He knows it’s his last hope,”

  “You’re right but look at these people. Are they able to fight another battle? They haven’t slept in two days and are exhausted. There are many wounded.”

  “Jarod wouldn’t care about how ready his men are.”

  “Then let’s take advantage of that. He has very few avenues to attack through. We can barricade the key junctions and make any effort on his part extremely costly to him and minimize the difficulty to us.”

  Youngblood called his captains together and explained his ideas. They were quick to put them into action despite their tiredness.

  Within the bowels of the bunker, the men reacted to Youngblood’s orders.

  “We’re ready for anything he tries,” reported Kira.

  “Just in time. Here they come,” said Youngblood as the firing began in the central core junction tunnel.

  “Let’s give them a taste of their own medicine,” said Pyro.

  The barrage from the hastily erected barricade emplacement mowed down Jarod’s men before they could get going. They never had a chance to advance. The attackers were no longer a coordinated group, only two or three at a time dashing forward to fire then retreat to safety. They were showing signs of panic even as Jarod drove them forward to their doom.

  “Should we bring up reinforcements?” asked Mack.

  “No. we’re in a strong position. Shifting people around will only expose them to more danger. Let Jarod play out his hand. He’s run out of options.”

  It was noon and total exhaustion had set in. With the air conditioning damaged, the heat and humidity were stifling.

  Yet, the men remained at their posts waiting for the next turn of events.

  A few men dozed while getting their wounds treated.

  Youngblood sat with Kira and Pyro. He got up and stretched his legs from time to time but had nothing new to contribute.

  “Look someone is standing at the tunnel entrance. He has a white flag,” pointed Kira.

  Youngblood stood up to get a better view.

  The man with the white flag took only one step into the tunnel and stopped.

  “Rouse the men. Everyone on alert. This could be a diversion.”

  Many of the sleepers stirred at the warning, but others were so fatigued they slept on.

  “I’m going to speak to them,” said Youngblood.

  “Don’t go out there,” said Pyro. “Jarod will gun you down.”

  Youngblood stepped out from behind the barricade.

  After a moment, Jarod stood up fifty yards away at the far end of the tunnel and took the white flag from his man.

  The two men marched toward each other meeting at the center of the long tunnel.

  When they met they stopped and stared at one another as if taking the measure of the opposition.

  Jarod looked calm and comfortable. He even had a trace of a smile. He said, “Each morning when I wake up, I take a moment to consider the most terrible possibilities that might befall me, so that I can be prepared for whatever comes. Despite that, it never occurred to me that I would see you standing here now.”

  Youngblood squinted long and hard at Jarod. “I suppose to
a psychopath, there are no storm clouds, or moral dilemmas, only the opportunities to exploit others. You could never believe that those you’ve wronged would have the strength to fight back.”

  Jarod said, “What an odd thing for you to say. I’ve never done anything to warrant such a harsh assessment.”

  “Are you ready to surrender?” asked Youngblood.

  “Surrender? By no means. I still have considerable resources.”

  Youngblood waited, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

  Jarod asked, “How many of my men are prisoners?”

  “How many of my men are your prisoners?”

  Jarod said, “I’d like to stop the bloodshed. We might be able to come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

  It was a startling suggestion. Youngblood could see Jarod’s mind running through the possibilities. The situation was complicated by so many different groups; the valley farmers, ranchers, and townsfolk, the Yosemite population, the slaves, the wounded men and women on both sides.

  Jarod continued, “We could start with a good faith exchange of prisoners.”

  “I’ll have to confer with my captains.”

  “Of course. Let’s arrange a cease-fire while you confer with your men and I will do the same.”

  When Youngblood returned to his command post in the central plaza, Pyro said, “It’s a delaying tactic. He’s not concerned about prisoners or stopping the bloodshed. He hopes to take advantage of the suspension of hostilities in some way.”

  “I don’t see how he can improve his position,” said Kira.

  “I don’t doubt for a moment,” said Youngblood, “that he is looking for a deal in which he can keep as much power and position as he can under the circumstance. He thinks given time and some resources he can turn things around and regain control of all he has lost today.”

  “You can’t be sure of anything he says,” said Pyro.

  “Put yourself in his position. Would you rather negotiate while you still have some bargaining power or fight it out to the bitter end when it’s clear we have the upper hand?”

  “I’d negotiate.”

  Youngblood said, “Jarod had a surrender deal in mind as soon as we occupied the security control center. You see that must have been the deciding factor.”