by Robert Boren
Lita drove the big truck forward, turning onto the street. “Which way?”
“I’d say Highway 181 to I-69E,” Richardson said. “Been scoping it out. Less chip icons showing up with the long-range app.”
Lita nodded and drove in that direction, picking up 181 in a couple of minutes. The others followed.
“Anybody we have to worry about on the way out of town?” Lita asked.
“Nope,” Richardson said. “I expected more.”
“How about the gas station at the last town? Still static?”
Richardson moved the display screen to that area, his eyes getting wide. “Whoa.”
“What’s going on?”
“A bunch more icons have moved there,” he said. “There’s a few on the road down to that spot too. It’s like somebody called out the cavalry.”
“Wonder if somebody killed some Islamists there, and that’s why they weren’t moving. Now their friends are checking on them.”
Richardson looked at Lita. “Great minds think alike.”
“I’d check that every so often. Some eyewitness might tell them about us. Might have seen which way we went.”
“Yeah,” Richardson said. He looked at Austin again. “We got enemy troops still building up around the capitol.”
“That means they haven’t figured out that the leadership team split, then, right?”
“That would be my guess,” Richardson said. “Wonder how much of a hit losing General Hogan is gonna be.”
“Maybe they’ll rescue him,” Lita said.
“I hope so,” Richardson said. “Of course they could off him while the rescue team is at the walls. Remember what happened at the recycling center.”
“True,” Lita said. “There’s the coffee joint.”
“Think this thing will fit in that drive-through?”
“Sure, there’s no roof over it and no sharp turns,” Lita said. She made the turn and drove up to the window. The others fell in behind them.
It only took a few minutes to get the coffees, and then they were off.
“This tastes good,” Lita said. She set her cup down in the holder on the center console. “Anything going on in Seguin?”
“Was just about to check,” Richardson said. He moved the long range app to that area. “More folks showing up, and they’re moving around. Looking for something, it appears. Some of those stationary chips appear to have moved since last time I looked. They’re all close together.”
Lita looked at him, “Probably the meat wagon.”
Richardson laughed. “Meat wagon? How crude.”
She giggled. “So sue me. Nobody coming this way?”
“They’ve expanded in all directions, but I don’t see any movement out of town.”
“Good, let’s hope it stays that way.”
They rode along silently for a while, Richardson dozing off a little. The road was deserted, and they were making good time.
“Wow, there’s Beeville already,” Lita said. “Hell, we’re almost half way to I-69E.”
“Good,” Richardson said, stretching. “I think I might have dozed off a little.”
“You did,” Lita said. “Check the app.”
He nodded and pulled the phone out of his pocket. “Nobody around here, or in the direction we’re going,” he said.
“Good,” she said.
“Crap.”
“Uh oh, what do you see?”
“Movement to the south from Seguin.”
“Coming this way?”
“Too early to tell,” he said. “They might be doing something locally. I’ll keep an eye out. If they leave town to the south, we’ll need to get ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Ready to kill them, sweetie,” Richardson said.
Chapter 7 – Warrior’s Truce
Don was behind the wheel of his SUV, Sydney in the passenger seat. They were making good time on the deserted roads.
“We’re almost to Ruidoso,” Sydney said.
“You haven’t gotten anybody to pick up, have you?” Don asked.
“Nope,” she said. “It’s like a ghost town. Nobody is answering the phones.”
“There any parks big enough for us?” Don asked.
“Does it matter if they’re not open?”
“No, we might be able to turn on the power and stay there for the night,” Don said, “otherwise, we just boondock.”
“Oh. Not a bad idea, I suppose. There’s one right next to Highway 70 that looks plenty big. There’s a big flat area in front, too. Probably big enough for the tank flat beds.”
“Good, send a text about it to Jason,” Don said.
“Will do,” she said, typing on her screen. Then Don’s phone dinged.
“Somebody just sent me something,” he said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “Here, check it out. You know my pin.”
She nodded, taking his phone. “Dammit.”
“What?”
“General Hogan’s been captured by the enemy.”
“Oh, no,” Don said. “Didn’t expect that to happen. We get a stand-down order?”
“Nope. We stick to our mission.”
“Good,” Don said. “The apps still work, don’t they?”
“Yep, I was just on that a few minutes ago. Curt’s right, there’s an enemy base in White Sands. Wonder if they’ll want us to go around it?”
“How many people there?” Don asked.
“A few hundred,” Sydney said. “Looks like they’re in a canyon. Maybe we can attack them easily from the ridges.”
Don shot her a worried glance. “They might have people watching Ruidoso.”
“Wouldn’t we see them on the apps?”
Don thought for a moment. “Yes, you’re right. Hope the apps give us an air-tight picture.”
“Me too,” she said. “We’re getting close to the RV Park.”
“Hear back from Jason?”
“Yeah, they’re looking at that place too. The bikers are there now. Looks like we can use it, but they don’t want to stash the tank flat-beds there. The bikers found a big warehouse nearby.”
“Is it really deserted?”
“Yep,” Sydney said. “Nobody around, at least in town. No enemy fighters on the app, either.”
“Okay,” Don said. “Sounds too good to be true.”
Sydney’s phone dinged. “Jason again. They changed their minds about the tank flatbeds. They’re going to park them in front and have them manned.”
“Can they fire from on top of those trucks?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Want me to ask?”
“Nah, never mind. Here’s the town.”
The convoy slowed in front of them, rolling down the deserted highway which doubled as the main drag through town. Empty parking lots, many with weeds growing out of the asphalt. Trash blowing around, stopped by chain link fences here and there. Stray dogs trotting by. Tumbleweeds rolling around.
“This is strange,” Sydney said. “It’s like people just up and left. Look at all the cars parked.”
“Maybe the enemy rounded them all up,” Don said.
“Or maybe the people figured that out and split before the enemy could. I’d rather believe that.”
“Look, in front of that car dealership,” Don said.
“Oh, gross, is that a body?”
“Looks like it, but not much meat left on it. Look at the hand. Bones. There’s bullet holes in the front of the building, see?”
“Oh, God,” Sydney said. “They were overrun. Hope there’s not dead bodies all over the place.”
“Seriously.”
“There’s the Post Office,” Sydney said, pointing to the right. “The RV Park is just past there. On the other side of the motel. See people turning in?”
“Yeah, I see it,” Don said. He made the right turn into the driveway, following other RVs into the area with spaces. “There’s a good pull-through spot. I’m taking it.”
“Okay, honey
,” Sydney said.
Don parked, doing his best to get the hookup bay close to the power mast.
“Home sweet home,” Sydney said. “Hope we get a little time tonight.”
“You and me both,” Don hesitated, then added, “but don’t have anything.”
“Huh?”
“You said you get pregnant at the drop of a hat, remember?”
She giggled. “You think I’m worried about that?”
“In this crazy world, you ought to be,” Don said. “Look what Carrie is going through. Look what happened to Kate.”
“Don’t care,” Sydney said, getting out of the car.
Don watched her move gracefully, the desire building in him. I can’t believe she’s mine. He snapped himself out of it and left the car. Curt was pulling into the next spot, Amanda parking off to one side in her bobtail, others slowing around them, checking out the spaces.
“Hey, pencil neck,” Curt said as he came out. “You know if the power’s on?”
“Nope,” Don said. “I’m gonna plug in. There’s a surge protector in this trailer – it’ll tell me right away if we’ve got decent juice.”
“Good thinking,” Curt said, walking to his utility bay. “The bikers got here early. If there’s power to be had, they’ve probably turned it on.”
“Wonder if the city has a power plant still on line?” Don asked.
“Well, the LTE towers are working,” Curt said.
Don plugged in his cable, then flipped on the breaker on the power mast. He heard the clunk from the surge protector. “Sounds like it’s on.”
“Excellent,” Curt said.
“Is it working, honey?” Amanda asked, coming around the toy hauler.
“Don just got connected,” Curt told her. “I’m about to try it.”
“Good,” she said. “Glad we didn’t go further.”
“Oh, great, it works,” Sydney said from inside the trailer.
“There you go,” Don said, smiling.
Jason and Kyle walked over. “Is it working over here?” Jason asked.
“Yeah,” Don said.
“Just got connected,” Curt said. “Looks good. Where’s the power coming from? They got nuclear plants in this state?”
“There’s a big solar plant not far from here,” Kyle said. “Probably getting power from that. Might not be enough for a city full of people, but for us, not a problem. We seem to be the sole inhabitants right now.”
“I doubt that,” Curt said. “There’s probably people living in the hills outside of town.”
“Why’d you guys decide not to hide the tanks?” Don asked.
“Protection,” Jason said. “It was a trade-off, but we figured they’d see our RVs from the road, so why would hiding the tanks be helpful?”
Curt chuckled. “Yeah, it’s not like they can’t see our vehicles bristling with weapons.”
“Do you guys think the enemy knows we’re here?” Sydney asked.
“That’s the real question,” Kyle said. “We can see them, which gives us the advantage.”
“Are we gonna hit the base in White Sands?” Curt asked.
“We’ll talk about that after we get settled,” Jason said.
“Have you guys looked at Alamogordo?” Amanda asked. “I see some hits there. and along the road to that old Air Force base. See?” She held her phone up to Curt, Kyle, and Jason.
“As long as they stay there, we’ll be fine,” Jason said.
“Yeah, but we’re going there tomorrow, aren’t we?” Sydney asked.
Curt chuckled. “I think we ought to be sending a team there tonight.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking,” Jason said. “We’ll talk about that in the meeting too. No way will we just roll in there exposed.”
Horns started to honk at the front of the park.
“Oh, crap, maybe we have company,” Kyle said.
“Anybody get buzzed?” Don asked. “I didn’t.”
“Me neither,” Jason said. “Come on, let’s get up there.”
Kyle nodded and they took off running, Curt following them. Kelly and Junior were already on their way, along with Dirk and Chance.
“You going?” Sydney asked Don.
“Yeah,” he said. “Want to go?”
“I guess,” she said. “Take guns.”
“Of course,” Don said.
“Dad, what’s going on?” Alyssa asked as she ran up with Chloe.
“Don’t know, sweetie. Stay here, okay?”
“Maybe I should stay here with them,” Sydney said.
“Okay.” Don smiled at her, checked the magazine in his pistol, and ran to catch up with the others.
Several dirty old pickup trucks had pulled into the parking lot next to the tank flatbeds. There were men in the cabs and in the truck beds.
“Who are you guys?” shouted one of the men. Jason approached.
“We’re Texans,” Jason said. “Who are you?”
“We’re from the Mescalero Reservation,” the man shouted. “Why are you here?”
Jason approached the truck, trying to put on a calm demeanor, but his heart was racing a mile a minute. “We’re here to kill Islamists and destroy their supply line into Colorado.”
The man in the truck smiled, then jumped out. “We have no love for the Islamists. They chased all of our business away.”
“Business?” Kyle asked.
“The race track and the casino,” the man said. “I’m White Eagle.” He held out his hand. Jason took it. White Eagle was middle-aged, large, and muscular. The others in his party had the look of warriors.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Junior whispered to Don and Kelly. “Injuns.”
“Quiet, Junior,” Kelly said. “We want to make friends. Trust me.”
Don looked at them and snickered.
“What’s so funny?” Dirk asked.
“Never mind,” Don whispered.
“What happened here?” Jason asked White Eagle.
“Those swine from the middle east came in here, throwing their weight around. Then women and girls from town started getting kidnapped. The men figured out where they were and rescued them. There was a big battle just west of town.”
“Who won?”
“Nobody,” White Eagle said. “The Islamists were on their way to winning when we showed up.”
“You fought with the townspeople?” Kyle asked.
“No, we just rode in and showed ourselves,” White Eagle said, “with four thousand warriors. We protected the townspeople as they left the area.”
“Where’d they go?”
“Not sure,” White Eagle said. “Colorado, we think. Maybe Texas.”
“The Islamists haven’t bothered you?”
“Their big chief talked to us. Said they’d leave us alone if we left them alone.”
“Big Chief?” Jason asked.
“He goes by Saladin. He sounds British, but he’s an Arab. He’s a good negotiator.”
Jason and Kyle glanced at each other.
“Is Saladin still around here?” Jason asked.
“We only saw him the one time,” White Eagle said. “There’s a big base in White Sands. They stay west of Highway 54. We stay east of Highway 54. So far no problems. Maybe Saladin is there.”
“Why didn’t you fight these guys?” Kyle asked.
“We watched traffic on I-25. They come in numbers like sand at the sea. If they really wanted to take us out, they could do it, so we made a deal. We’re waiting for the war to end. Then we’ll get our business back.”
Jason chuckled. “Well, that plan will work, as long as the Islamists don’t win the war.”
“They have no chance against the white man here,” White Eagle said.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Kyle said. “They’re working with the government in Washington DC.”
“Why would the Feds do that?” White Eagle asked.
“That’s a long story,” Jason said. “You ever heard of global
governance?”
“Yes, I know what that is, but why would the Feds work with Islamists. From what we’ve seen, they just kill people and kidnap women.”
“They’re trying to take over the country,” Kyle said. “They won’t leave you guys alone if they win.”
“That’s a problem for another day,” White Eagle said.
Jason sighed. “Are you guys going to bother us? Or are you going to tell the Islamists that we’re here?”
White Eagle thought for a moment. “Will you make this area a battle ground? We have property. The Race Track and Casino, and other properties.”
“Our objective is to destroy I-25 and every enemy supply depot we can find,” Jason said. “We don’t intend to have a battle here, but if the Islamists figure out where we are before we move on, they might attack us here.”
“Whose authority are you working under?” White Eagle asked.
“General Hogan of the US Army,” Jason said.
“I thought you said that the Feds were on the side of the Islamists,” White Eagle said.
“The Feds don’t control everybody in the Armed Forces anymore,” Kyle said. “Another long story.”
“Why do Texans care about I-25?”
Jason smiled, pausing for a moment. “If the Islamists conquer the south west, they’ll attack Texas next,” Jason said. “We are in danger of that happening. There are many thousands of Islamists already in Texas, waiting for their big chance.”
The warrior behind the wheel of the first truck said something to White Eagle in their native tongue. White Eagle’s expression changed, his brow furrowed. He nodded and got back into the truck bed. The driver of the truck got out. He was a medium-sized man with hawkish eyes and a serious face.
“How well do you know General Hogan?” the man asked.
“Who are you?” Jason asked.
“Head of tribal security,” he said. “Stanton Hunt.”
“Are you in charge, then?” Jason asked.
“Yes sir,” he said. “White Eagle is a spokesperson. What about General Hogan?”
“The General has been working with Governor Nelson of Texas,” Jason said. “This is a joint effort.”
“Do you know where he is right now?”
Jason got an uncomfortable look on his face.
“Something is wrong,” Stanton said. “I was afraid of that. I sensed it.”
