by Nathan Jones
Lewis and his volunteers for the raid waited at the bottom of the cliff, as twilight turned to full dark and the waxing moon moved across the sky towards them.
He'd encouraged everyone to get whatever sleep they could, taking the watch himself as the long hours passed one after the other. He would've taken his own advice and had other people take the later shifts, but he'd already known that he probably wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Instead he'd done his best to prepare in advance by taking a long nap just after noon.
It would have to be enough to carry him through the night.
The moon set just after 2 a.m., and Lewis quietly moved around waking everyone up. Once they were all gathered with their gear, staring at him expectantly with night vision, he nodded to each of them. “Slow and cautious. Just like against the raiders.”
The only response was return nods. He turned and slipped silently down the path towards the valley, moving from cover to cover. He could hear soft rustles and the thud of footfalls as his volunteers followed.
He knew the still, quiet night was deceptive. When he looked at the emplacements he and Jane had picked out earlier, he could see the outlines of blockheads positioned there. He could also follow the movements of the patrols they'd tracked, which he'd been watching all night. The enemy wasn't sleeping.
Forearmed with their previous scouting of the blockhead troops, he was able to maneuver his people from cover to cover through the openings. They moved slow and careful, and he and Jane always had their eyes on the enemies stationed around them who might catch a glimpse of their movements. That way if they were spotted they'd hopefully be able to respond in time to get away, or at least make a fight of it.
The blockheads didn't have much in the way of night vision, from what he'd seen, but they made sure their night sentries and patrols were equipped with what they had. Arguably waiting until the moon set hadn't done much to improve their chances of avoiding detection, but every little bit helped. More importantly, the later in the night they waited before moving out the less vigilant the enemy would be.
Discipline did a lot, but some things were just human nature. Even the most careful and vigilant person lost their edge as the night dragged on. With that in mind Lewis had been careful to time their attack to come near the end of a shift. Hopefully the sentries would be looking forward to their beds, not looking at the empty landscape around them.
Another thing going for them was surprise. As far as he knew nobody from here south to I-70 had even tried to attack the Gold Bloc forces in the valley. They'd been content to dig in and let the blockheads come to them. Like when he ambushed the scouts in the canyon a few days ago, or when Matt and their volunteers down there faced a bigger assault along Highway 31.
He and his volunteers had a lot of things going for them with this attack. If nothing went wrong things should go smoothly from start to finish.
Over the next two hours Lewis led them about two thirds of the distance to the shelter, leaving only a mile or so to go. At that point the first unexpected thing happened, when headlights appeared from around the shorter hill. One of the trucks parked at the outpost heading due west, which would take it south of them. Either a vehicular patrol was setting out earlier than they had the previous nights, or they had some other late night business.
Whatever it was, it was an annoyance. And potentially a problem.
As the headlights turned vaguely in their direction Lewis slowly sank to the ground, motioning for the people behind him to mimic his movements. “Just hold still,” he hissed. “Even if they come this way on the nearest road, there's a rise between us and it so the headlights won't shine directly on us. As long as none of us moves, we shouldn't catch the eye of anyone looking out into the darkness from a moving vehicle.”
He was confident in his words, and after some close calls with the raiders he could back up that confidence with experience. People driving in trucks were surprisingly blind at night. And although it was possible they were using night vision and headlights both, it didn't seem likely.
He just hoped he was right. If they were caught they might be able to take out the truck, but even if they could it would be a dangerous sprint back to the safety of the mountains, with enemies hot on their heels. He supposed they could try to pull a Ben and shoot the driver, then steal the truck and drive to safety. But even that was a last resort.
As the headlights continued to sweep their way he went perfectly still, even holding his breath as the glow passed above them. The rise kept the light from shining directly on anyone, and he couldn't even see the vehicle creating the nimbus in the air overhead. Still, he felt a surge of relief as the eternal second passed and the light swept on, accompanied by the rumble of the engine receding as the vehicle continued on its way.
They hadn't been spotted.
Just to be sure, the first thing he did once the truck was out of sight was rise up behind cover and check the nearest blockhead sentry posts, hundreds of yards away in either direction. They showed no signs of alarm, so he supposed the crisis was past.
“Let's go,” he whispered, and continued on.
Over the next hour they slowed to a crawl to cover the last distance, dangerously close to the taller hill overlooking the shelter. The cover became far more scarce, and they had to rely mostly on not making any sudden movements that would give them away. No more staying comfortably out of sight.
Lewis had carefully built the observation posts atop the two hills the shelter was nestled between, to be sure they covered a complete field of view of the area. That was inconvenient for their current purposes, but he definitely didn't consider it an oversight. Although for just this sort of situation he had made sure the two posts had one blind spot, and that was directly over the entrance to the secret tunnel itself.
Getting to it was a challenge, but once there he was confident they'd be able to get inside without risk of discovery.
With only a few dozen feet left to go he had the scare of his life, when a sudden shout from the observation post nearly within stone's throw made them all freeze in their military crawls. Lewis listened to the unfamiliar language, not Russian but possibly Eastern European.
That would fit with what he'd heard about the army from the south being made up of Gold Bloc signatory nations, but he couldn't be sure. It probably didn't matter much for their purposes either way, but even so he wished he understood it so he'd know if the jig was up.
Then another voice spoke up in reply, and the first sentry laughed. Lewis felt his shoulders loosen, and he looked up to see one of the blockheads rising from the observation post. The man said something else, then ambled a short distance away to relieve himself.
He was wearing night vision, and his back was turned to them. The other sentry was looking his way, still idly shooting the breeze. This was probably the best opportunity they could hope for.
Lewis motioned, then rose to a crouch and crabbed the rest of the way to the blind spot before ducking down. Jane was right behind him, and she joined him digging at the ground with their knives to expose the board covering the tunnel's exit. While they worked the other volunteers quickly joined them and gathered in a clump.
In less than fifteen seconds they'd uncovered the buried plywood square. Jane caught one corner and hauled it up, motioning sharply, and Lewis nodded and dropped down inside, beginning the long crawl along the cramped space to reach the end.
So far so good. Of course getting here had been the “easy” part.
He took care to be as quiet as possible, even though it was about two hundred yards to the entrance to the shelter. The floor cover inside the shower was thick and sturdy and would mute a good bit of noise, but it wasn't perfect and the enemy was sleeping on the other side.
With that in mind it was slightly annoying to hear how much noise the people following behind him were making. He'd cautioned them to be quiet in this part, and they were probably trying. Even so he kept hearing the scraping sounds of rifles or boots on the dirt floor, ce
ilings, or walls. Not to mention breathing loud enough to wake the dead.
After what felt like an eternity Lewis reached the end of the tunnel. Once he was sure there wasn't a soldier making use of the facilities above, he carefully pushed aside the false bottom of the shower and poked his head out, looking around. After confirming the bathroom was empty he silently pulled himself out of the tunnel and crept over to the door. It creaked ever so slightly as he cracked it open and peered out.
It was oddly surreal to be home, the shelter he'd built with his own hands, doing his best to stay hidden with the air around him heavy with the presence of enemies. Dozens of enemies. The safe place he'd built and welcomed his friends and family into was now a barrack for the Gold Bloc.
The blockheads definitely considered it theirs now; all the soldiers on their cots were sleeping peacefully. And why not, when they couldn't imagine an attack would come right in the middle of their sleeping area, without their attackers even needing to use the door.
* * * * *
While making this plan it had been tempting to suggest they just padlock the shelter's door from the inside, lob a few lit Molotov cocktails among the sleeping soldiers, and then flee back down the tunnel and hope to escape in the confusion. It had seemed safer on the surface.
But it wasn't. Not only did that approach offer less potential to do damage to the blockheads and steal some of their supplies, in most ways it also put them in greater danger. They'd be running on foot, hoping a pissed off enemy with vehicles wouldn't get organized in time to catch them. Not a winning strategy; his more ambitious plan was better in just about every way, including the exit strategy.
Assuming nothing went wrong. Especially with this next step.
Lewis returned to the shower and looked down at the volunteers who'd come with him, expectantly waiting for him to give the all clear. Time was of the essence, but he still found himself hesitating for just a moment as he steeled himself for what they had to do.
Then he leaned down into the hole until his face was nearly touching Jane's, with Tam and Carl not far behind her. His dad and Martin were next in line, making up the last two of the six, including Lewis himself, who'd be taking care of the blockheads in the shelter.
“All right,” he whispered, almost under his breath. “Remember. We can't make a noise and neither can they. Cover their mouths and hold them down if you have to.”
The group packed into the tunnel's entrance nodded. Even with night vision Lewis could see that a lot of them looked nervous, even slightly sick. He didn't blame them.
This part of the plan was the one Lewis dreaded most, and not only because of the danger. He was having trouble forgetting the sight of the blockhead scouts in the canyon being cut down by his M2, and this was far more up close and personal. Practically speaking it was no different from when he and Jane had staged their early morning attack on the raider camp, but the impractical ways in which it was different made all the difference.
It helped that the enemy soldiers were sleeping in his home. And also, liked he'd mentioned to his uncle, all the reports of the brutality with which the enemy had treated innocent people after the Retaliation. The brutality he and his loved ones and the people of Aspen Hill could expect if the Gold Bloc won this war. Still, he did his best to shut off his mind as he slipped out of the bathroom with knife in hand and moved to the first cot to begin the grisly task.
Behind him the five other volunteers spread out to the other parts of the shelter, doing their best to make as little noise as possible as they got to work as well.
He'd made it clear from the very beginning that once they snuck into the shelter, they'd have to clear it out as quickly and quietly as possible. That meant killing the soldiers inside, preferably while they were still sleeping and with as little noise as they could manage. His volunteers had accepted that it was necessary and was something they could bring themselves to do, and Lewis had made the same resolution.
But accepting it and liking it were two different things.
As Lewis went from one soldier to the next, he worried more with each passing second that one of the blockheads would wake up and raise the alarm. Which would force his people to deal with a situation quickly spiraling out of control.
There were a few scares, as some of the sleeping soldiers they hadn't gotten to yet stirred slightly at a few of the louder unavoidable sounds. But either they weren't making as much noise as he feared or the enemy slept like logs, because none of the blockheads woke up fully until it was too late. There were no shouts to give them away.
His team was done in less than five minutes, with Tam by the door signaling that they hadn't drawn any attention from outside. Once he was certain the shelter was clear Lewis hissed an order, and his volunteers got to work doing their best to arrange the bodies. The next stage of the plan would be easier if they could make it look like the enemy soldiers were still sleeping peacefully.
At first glance at least.
Halfway through the task Carl, his hands and shirt soaked in blood, abruptly staggered away from a cot. He only made it a few steps before he fell to his knees and retched all over the shelter's outdoor carpet. By the door Tam started for her husband, looking worried, then stopped herself and returned to her position watching outside.
Lewis made his way over instead, reaching his friend in just a few seconds to kneel beside him with a hand on his shoulder. With a bit of revulsion he realized his hands were just as bloody, and wished he'd taken a moment to wipe them off on a blanket.
“Sorry,” Carl said miserably. “Dear God, this is awful.”
Lewis wholeheartedly agreed. “We're almost done,” he whispered. “The worst is over with.”
His friend nodded, and when Lewis helped him to his feet he got back to work. A few minutes later they had everything looking as normal as possible. Lewis had the rest of the volunteers crawl out of the tunnel and join the others near the door, noticing how they averted their eyes from the dozens of bodies on the cots. With him leading the way they moved to their positions to either side of the entrance for the next step, which was to wait for the sentries on the two hills to finish their shifts and head in to wake the next shift.
Going by his watch they'd managed to do everything with fifteen minutes still to spare, so there was nothing to do but wait. Under the circumstances he kind of wished they'd waited a bit longer before leaving the tunnel, but then again that would introduce unnecessary risk into the plan.
A few volunteers spoke up as the tense minutes ticked by in silence. Probably more out of nervousness than boredom. Every time someone did Lewis gestured curtly, and if that didn't do it he hissed sharply under his breath. Eventually people got the message, and the stale air of the shelter hung heavy with tension while they waited.
After what felt like hours rather than minutes he heard the approach of quiet voices outside, the same voices speaking the same unfamiliar Eastern European language he'd heard before. Lewis felt his shoulders simultaneously loosen and tense up as he motioned for his people to be prepared. They'd all heard as well and had dropped into crouches and gone motionless.
The voices reached the shelter and started making their way down the ramp, although they went quiet just outside the door. Probably to avoid waking their companions. The heavy door creaked open, flooding the near pitch black room with the predawn glow, and the sentries entered one after the other. Not just the two from the taller hill but the two from the shorter one as well.
They weren't expecting anything. Why would they be, when they were walking into a pitch black, well defended room full of their sleeping fellow soldiers. Or so they thought. So they filed right past Lewis and his volunteers hiding along the walls to either side of the door, completely oblivious to their presence.
Lewis didn't know why it made it better that the enemy was awake this time, but it did. He waited until the sentries were all through, then slammed the door behind them and lunged forward. He went after the last man through t
he door, catching him from behind and covering his mouth while he rammed his knife into his throat. The rest of his volunteers converged on the other three, managing to keep them quiet as they brought them down.
In just a few heartbeats it was over.
Motioning curtly, Lewis slipped through the door. Jane, Tam, and Carl followed him, and they broke off into pairs and moved towards the two hills as if they were the new shift. In the shelter behind him the rest of the volunteers got to work, gathering up everything of value inside to take with them.
The most dangerous part of the plan was over, but they still had to be careful with the next part. Their observations of the blockhead scouts had suggested that no vehicles would be coming or going at this shift change, but that didn't mean the unexpected couldn't happen. And it was also possible soldiers might arrive from the nearby town for some reason.
Conveniently, keeping up the pretense of being sentries also worked in their favor, since it let them walk right up to the best lookout positions in the area. Lewis and Jane ambled up to the one atop the tall hill, while Tam and Carl made their way to the shorter hill and began the climb. From there they began casually searching the area for enemies, awkwardly using their night vision goggles to look through their rifle scopes.
They were sentries, just for the other side.
In spite of his apparent casualness Lewis was in a hurry, though. The sun would be rising in less than a half hour, the early morning was already bright enough that he could've taken off his night vision goggles if he wanted, and the blockheads in the houses and shipping container could be waking up at any time.
And they weren't finished yet. Every second that passed was one more in which something could go wrong. So just as soon as he was sure the area was theirs he tapped the mic on his radio's headset. “All clear.”
He didn't need to give instructions, since they'd already planned in advance what to do next. While he and the other lookouts kept up the watch, the rest of the group began lugging stolen supplies from the shelter into the nearest of the five trucks. The two of the other three vehicles that were out scouting at the moment were due to stay out for another hour or so, and Lewis hoped everything was normal in that regard. As for the one that had driven by on their approach, he hoped they'd stay away too.
