The Long Search For Home

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The Long Search For Home Page 21

by Ray Wench


  He turned to his small army of volunteers. How many of them, if any, would return? He pushed the thought from his mind. “We’ll need four vehicles. Grab whatever equipment you might need. Caleb, get the binoculars, radios, and extra ammo. Say your goodbyes. We’ll meet here in ten minutes.”

  Seventy-Nine

  Mark walked into the garage. The inside had changed drastically since the wounded had been brought in. Two of the men lay on fold-up beds. The gut shot man was on a mattress placed on the pool table.

  Three women stood over the man with the stomach wound. One, Pam, was a doctor before the Horde had raided the hospital and took her captive. She was living with Jarrod and had arrived when the call went out for the urgent meeting. The other woman standing next to her, Desiree, had been a nurse. She also stayed at Jarrod’s. Agnes stood on the opposite side, watching.

  Mrs. Brandford and Ruth were seeing to the other wounded men. Mark stopped next to the man with the shoulder injury. His injuries seemed the least life threatening. He was awake and lucid.

  “Hey, boss, what’s up?” he asked in a pleasant voice.

  Mark smiled. The drugs Pam brought must be working. “I need your help.”

  The man nodded. “What can I do for you?”

  “Just information. Tell me what happened.

  “A group of Chinese ambushed us.”

  “Chinese?”

  “Yeah, the sneaky bastards came out of nowhere.”

  “What makes you sure they were Chinese?”

  “Well, ‘cause they looked it. Plus that’s what General West said they were.”

  “So you don’t know for sure if they were Chinese or Asian. Were they speaking a foreign language?”

  The wounded man frowned. “Hey, the only talking I heard came from their guns.”

  Mark nodded. “Were they in uniform?”

  “No, least not that I noticed. I couldn’t see all of them. When the bullets started flying, I wasn’t trying to look around to see what they were wearing.”

  “So we don’t know if they were invaders from another country or just a mob.”

  “I guess not. All I know is if they were shooting at us, they were the enemy.”

  “Okay, now, tell me again exactly where this attack took place.”

  “Out past Bryan. We were moving along at a good pace when they came at us from both sides. We were trapped. They had grenades and blew up the vehicles. They took the tracks off the tank. It could fire, but couldn’t move.” A faraway look entered his eyes. His voice softened and cracked. “When we left, I think there were still men inside the tank.” He breathed in quickly and continued. “Some of the men went up the hill, some helped the wounded into the truck bed. We lost a lot of men in that initial barrage.”

  Mark opened a mental map. Bryan was a small town near the Indiana border. “You took the turnpike though.”

  “Yeah, the general thought we could move faster, and by staying off the main streets, we’d be less likely to be spotted.”

  “But most of the road out there is flat and open. How’d you not spot the ambush?”

  “At certain points the road goes under an overpass, creating slopes on the side. They were above us just enough that we couldn’t see them. They must have seen us coming though and set the trap.”

  “And how’d you get away?”

  “The survivors retreated and worked their way up one slope. We drove the truck up the slope. It was slow going. That’s when me and Sharkey over there got hit. Those Chinese charged the truck when we reached the top. I was able to accelerate away from them. The others ran across a field and broke into a farmhouse. The general hung onto my door and fired back. It was crazy.

  “Before the Chinese caught us, the general ordered us to take the wounded and come for you. Before he jumped off the truck and ran for the house, General West said to say, ‘Remember your promise.’”

  Mark frowned. The fool had led his troops into an ambush, and now he wanted Mark to risk lives to bail him out.

  “North or south slope?”

  “South.”

  “Did you cross a road to get to the house?”

  “No, the road was on the other side. We entered the rear.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “Sir, are you gonna rescue them?”

  “We’re gonna give it our best effort. Get some rest. If we fail, I’m gonna need you to help get these people to safety somewhere.”

  “You have my word, sir. Good luck.”

  Mark patted the man’s good arm, and then left.

  Eighty

  The courtyard was still full of people. Some saying last-minute goodbyes, others just watching. Vince met Mark midway. “I’d go but I don’t know how to shoot. I wouldn’t want to be a liability.”

  Mark kept walking. Vince fell in stride.

  “Well, you’ll learn quick enough. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you stay here and help in case we have to evacuate?”

  Vince stopped. He looked as though Mark had slapped him.

  “I can help. I just need to be taught.”

  “You need to listen. We’re going into battle with some unknown enemy. Some of these people will not be coming back. No one has time to teach you how to shoot. No offense, Vince.”

  “There has to be something I can do to help.”

  “There is. I told you what it is. Sorry.”

  Mark started walking. Five steps later, he stopped and went back. “Now listen, this is what I need from you. You do what I say, nothing more. If you can’t do it, stay here. You understand?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I need you to follow us in a separate car. I’ll give you a gun, just in case, but you are not to get out of the car. You’ll have a radio and binoculars. You stop when we do, keeping back. You do not follow us into the fight. Is that clear?”

  “Yeah, but why am I going if not to fight?”

  Mark hesitated. “Because if things go south on us, I need you to get word to the house to start packing. You understand the importance of what I’m saying?”

  Vince nodded.

  “Can I trust you to do that?”

  “Yes.” His voice was a whisper.

  “Good, ‘cause these people are counting on you. Get back here and help them. Do not wait for us. You go. I’ll keep the enemy busy for as long as I can to give you a head start. If you’re coming, get a car.”

  Mark spun and marched to the waiting vehicles.

  He climbed into the passenger seat of a pickup driven by Lincoln.

  Caleb was in the back seat. “I’ve got your rifle and two handguns.” He passed them forward.

  “You have a radio?”

  “Yes.”

  “Check in with everyone to make sure they work.”

  When that was done, Mark said, “Give Vince a radio, the extra binoculars, and this handgun.” Mark handed one of his guns back. “Tell him to stay well behind us, but keep us in sight.”

  Mark looked out the side window. Lynn stood ten feet away, her face expressionless, but her eyes moist. Mark smiled and gave a quick wave. She flashed a brave smile.

  Caleb climbed back in. “All set.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  Lincoln started the truck and backed down the driveway.

  “Wait! Stop!” Mark said.

  Lincoln jammed his foot on the brakes. Mark hadn’t taken his eyes off Lynn. Sudden emotion flooded him. He opened the door, jumped out, and walked toward her. Without a word he swept her into his arms and kissed her. When they broke, he said, “I love you. I just wanted you to know.”

  Her tears rolled. “I know. You come back.”

  “I will,” he promised.

  A minute later they were on the road.

  Eighty-One

  “Sir, I’m sorry. I have my orders.”

  “I understand that, Sergeant, but your people have been ambushed and are under siege in a farmhouse to the west. They need help.”

  “I’ve received no orders or m
essage to support that. Why would they send a message to you and not us? We’re staying here.”

  Mark was fast losing patience with the man. “You need to go to our house and talk to the three wounded men who showed up there last night.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would they go there and not come here?”

  “Well, at the moment, I’d say it’s because they’d get more help from us than you. We’re risking our lives to rescue your comrades. The least you can do is send some men with us to help.”

  “Sir, I have orders from General West to protect this base. That’s what I intend to do. For all I know, you’re trying to get us to abandon post so you can take it over.”

  “That’s just stupid.” Mark poked him in the chest. “Listen, bud, you go take a look at those wounded men. Then you send half of your men with some heavy weapons to find me. We’ll be the ones west of Bryan fighting your fight for you. You do that or, Sergeant, I swear if any of these good people die and you could’ve prevented it, I’m coming back for you. That’s a promise.”

  The Sergeant did not respond well to the threat. “You need to leave this base now, or I will have you arrested and locked up.”

  “Not on your best day, soldier boy.” Mark turned away. “You better be there.”

  They drove away from the base. Mark pushed the encounter from his mind. There were more important things to think about now. The drive would take about forty minutes. Mark used the time to issue orders through Caleb and the radio. They had no idea where the farm might be, but drove trying to keep the turnpike to the right.

  It was late morning. A bright sun had climbed overhead. Visibility was good for a long way, increased by the binoculars. As they reached the Bryan limits, Mark stopped. He called everyone to him and spread a map out on the hood of the truck.

  “From here, I’m splitting us into two teams. One will proceed to the next main road north of the turnpike”, he pointed it out on the map, “and proceed on a parallel track with us. We’ll give you five minutes to get there before we start. Jarrod, you’re in charge of that group. If you find them, do not engage. Hide and contact me. We’ll join up and form a plan based on what we see.”

  Jarrod asked, “What if what we see is a hundred armed men?”

  “Then the plan will be to retreat to the house, pack up, and leave. I want to help those soldiers if I can, but I’m not sacrificing our lives in a fight we can’t win.”

  “Good to know.”

  “I’d prefer to find this foreign army without being spotted. So go slow and with caution. If you’re not in the driver’s seat, you should be scanning the area. Lincoln, you go with the kids. You’re in charge of the second vehicle with Jarrod. You listen to him and do what he says. Keep about a quarter mile behind him. Bill, you switch and drive for me.”

  Mark studied the map. “Adam, you’re in charge of your car. Follow me, and then break off and stop on the first overpass. Use the glasses to scan both ways. Maybe you can spot the tank. If not, cross the turnpike and scout the other side. Make sure no one can sneak up behind us, and then rejoin us at the next overpass. The radio should reach that far. If you see anything at all, call and get out of there.”

  He pointed again. “I’m guessing West is holed up somewhere just past Bryan. It will be open ground. We’ll have trouble taking them by surprise.”

  “So, what are we gonna do then?” Lincoln asked.

  “One, not get seen. Two, not get shot. Three, I’ll know more when I see the layout. Any other questions?”

  Jarrod said, “So it’s like before … we make it up as we go?”

  “Is there a better way?”

  “Well, I would hope so, but not that I’d know.”

  Eighty-Two

  Once they cleared Bryan, Mark ordered a slower speed. They didn’t want to rush into another ambush. Mark reviewed what he knew, which wasn’t much. Would anyone still be alive to rescue after all this time? The initial attack had happened around eight the night before. Fourteen hours had passed.

  The majority of the land was now open for long distances. A few copses of trees existed, set back from the road. Farmhouses dotted the roadsides, but not nearly enough to offer cover.

  Caleb reported, “Jarrod says nothing yet. Mr. Brandford hasn’t made contact.”

  “Bill, pull up that driveway there and stop next to the house. Caleb, contact him. Before we go any farther, I want to know everyone is still with us.”

  Mark unfolded his body from the front seat. He took the binoculars and his rifle to the front porch. There he took a long slow scan of the land to the west. It had been nearly fifteen minutes since they left the town. They had to be close.

  The front door of the farmhouse was open. In went inside and took the stairs two-at-a-time to the second floor. Finding a westward-facing bedroom, he trained the glasses out the window.

  In the distance, past the next farm and over a wooded area beyond, rose a slim wisp of smoke. It could have been nothing more than someone’s chimney or the exhaust from a propane heater, except the smoke was black, like something was burning.

  How much farther from the woods would the smoke be? Only one way to find out. Mark returned to the truck. He looked at Caleb, who shook his head. Damn! Had they lost a car already? Perhaps the opposing army was bigger than the wounded man had realized.

  “Who?”

  “Adam.”

  That didn’t make sense to Mark. Adam’s would’ve been the last car. If something had happened to them, the enemy was behind them.

  “Smoke is rising past the next farm. Let’s go there. I’ll tell you where I want to stop.”

  The driver turned the truck around and moved down the road. Mark had him stop on the road past the next farmhouse. The woods were still a quarter mile farther. “Pull off the road and head for those trees.”

  The truck bounced over a low to the ground crop that had grown wild. When they reached the woods, he climbed into the bed and focused the glasses behind him. No one was coming up from that direction, nor did he see Vince. He frowned. Was he missing too? That could mean the enemy was closer than he imagined.

  “Turn the truck so it’s facing back the way we came. Wait for me here.”

  “Where you going?” Caleb asked, his voice anxious.

  “I’m going to scout the other side of the woods. I’ll be back in a few minutes. In the meantime, try to contact Brandford, Lincoln, and Vince.”

  He looked at the driver. “Bill, if I’m not back in fifteen minutes, leave. But head south for a few miles before going east.”

  The men locked eyes. Bill nodded.

  Mark walked into the woods and made his way to the far side. The distance was not great. He was at the opposite tree line within two minutes. He knelt and aimed the glasses at the horizon.

  The smoke rose from a farm house a mile straight down the road. There were a large barn and other outbuildings behind the house. One of the smaller outbuildings was burning. There didn’t seem to be anyone around.

  Mark switched to the scope on the rifle. He made an adjustment, and the farmhouse was right before his eye. A flash caught his peripheral vision to the right. There was a man behind a woodpile. Mark moved the scope up and found more men, many more, taking cover around the other buildings. And they did look Asian, but he couldn’t swear they were all Chinese. None wore any sort of uniform.

  Mark panned back to the house. The windows in the back were broken. As he watched, a rifle pointed out, spat twice, and disappeared from view. There were people still alive inside.

  He checked the front of the house. No one. The only possible hiding spot out front would be the drainage ditch. Mark slid the scope along the top of the slope. A head popped up. Someone from the house shot at it. The bullet kicked up dirt inches from where the head had been.

  The house was surrounded. At least two soldiers were alive inside; one covering the front and one in back. With the buildings in the way, and not being able to see inside the ditch, Mark ha
d no way of determining the size of the opposing force.

  He lowered the scope. Would the risk to the lives of his friends and children be worth the reward of saving however many men were inside that house? The general had left the base with a little more than forty troops. If five had escaped to show up at his door, how many were still alive? The wounded man had said they lost half their numbers in the initial attack.

  Mark put his eye to the scope again and looked past the ditch. There was another ditch on the other side of the road. Another small grouping of trees stood fifty yards behind that ditch. They could reach the trees, but would have to cross a lot of open ground to get to the cover of that far ditch. If the men in the ditch near the house kept their heads down, Mark’s group wouldn’t be seen. Only the men behind the house would see them. Would they have a way of contacting those in the ditch? Probably. The only way to get into position was to make a daring dash across fifty yards of open ground.

  Mark ran back to the truck. Caleb looked relieved to see him.

  Bill said, “Anything?”

  “Oh yeah. We found them, and some of the soldiers are still alive. Caleb, contact Jarrod.”

  Mark pulled out the map again.

  “I got him.”

  “Ask him what was the last road they passed.”

  Caleb relayed the question and answer. Mark found it.

  “Tell him to stop and go back three roads and wait for us there. Bill, drive back to the last intersection and turn left. I’ll let you know where to stop.” He folded the map and got in.

  Mark looked back at Caleb. “Any word?”

  “Not from Brandford or Lincoln, but I did find Vince.”

  “Get Vince on the line and give me the radio.”

  Caleb handed him the radio.

  “Vince, you there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Look, I need you to do something that may put you in harm’s way. Are you willing to try?”

  A pause, then, “Of course, what do you need?”

  “I need you to find the other car that was with us. It was a blue Chevy Impala. Do you remember seeing it?”

 

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