Guerrilla (The Invasion of Miraval Book 2)

by Justin Bohardt

  Torrace himself had been trying to find a way to feed all the people, but the generally affable farmer had spent the past several hours spitting, cursing and muttering to himself. They were now standing in the town square, which had been mostly cleared of people, save for the few militia members who were on guard detail. The National Guard grounds had become too full, so they had once more sent people outside of the city. A couple more men were working on the two salvaged tanks, the most notable of which was Tangrit, the one-armed army veteran who was more familiar with blowing up tanks than driving them.

  “There’s just too many of ‘em,” Torrace said, taking out a handkerchief and wiping his sweaty face. “Dommies burned ‘alf the fields and those who left took as much food as they could carry.”

  “We could send out foragers,” Alex suggested.

  “All the ‘unters are in yer army,” he replied. “And I doubt ye the men or the rounds to spare.”

  “Half the army doesn’t even have serviceable military weapons- hunting rifles and pistols only and little ammo for all,” Alex said, shaking his head. “Even with the weapons we took off the Dommies, we’re still coming up short.”

  “Things will turn bad once people start runnin’ out of food,” Torrace replied. “They’ll be fightin’ each other for it.”

  “We’ll have to start rationing for now,” Alex said after a moment’s thought. “By order of the militia, all non-perishable food items are to be transferred to the possession of the quartermaster corps. Go house by house and confiscate flour, sugar, chickens, goats and cows. Impress anyone you have to into the quartermaster corps- bakers, grocers, butchers- anyone you need.”

  “The people will nae like that,” Torrace pointed out.

  “I’m leaving Deputy Paulson behind to supervise the rear guard,” Alex said. “Take him with you when you go door-to-door. I’ll leave it to you to distribute milk, bread and eggs, but you’ll need to make it last as long as you can. Get volunteers to comb the woods for mushrooms and berries. See if any of the teens too young for service have experience hunting or trapping.”

  “Aye, I’ll do what I can,” Torrace said he turned to walk away but stopped when he saw Isabel Carrick jogging toward them with two men and a child walking behind her.

  “Lieutenant,” Carrick announced as she saluted. “These men claim to be carrying a message for you.”

  “From whom?” he responded.

  “Yer Aleksian Dagenham?” the oldest demanded.

  “Lieutenant Dagenham,” he replied.

  “Name’s Marek,” he said. “My brother Harrell and I ran into your brother out in the woods and he bade us come speak to you.”

  “They said it was urgent,” Isabel added.

  Alex raised his eyebrows with curiosity. “Why would Dag send an urgent message with you rather than using the radio?” he demanded.

  “Didn’t say,” Marek responded.

  “I assumed it’s because of the relative near proximity of the Dominion forces and the chance that they could intercept any transmission,” Harrell said.

  “Near proximity?” Alex repeated.

  “We escaped Rainier Ravine,” Harrell said. “The Dominion airships and tanks arrived there the day before yesterday.”

  “We’ve been on the run since,” Marek said. “The Guard did what they could to slow down the Dommies- set the town ablaze and pushed debris from destroyed houses into the street to try to block their advance, but…”

  “They’re coming,” Alex whispered to himself as a hierarchy of thoughts and orders began rolling through his head. “Isabel, find some shelter for these good people as well as some food,” he ordered. Then turning to Torrace, he added, “I need every available vehicle you can get me as soon as you can get it. That means now.”

  Isabel saluted in response and Torrace muttered a very aggrieved sounding, “Aye, Lieutenant.”

  Alex took off at a fast pace toward the National Guard Headquarters, taking a moment to yell to the top of the nearest tank, “Tangrit! I want that tin can ready to roll in one hour or it’ll be your other arm!”

  Tangrit popped his head out of the tank and attempted to protest, but Alex was already out of ear shot. Grumbling to himself, he yelled down into the tank at the small group of mechanics who had experience working on trucks and cars, not battle wagons, to give the engine a try. The tank coughed and sputtered, but did nothing else and Tangrit swore. Then there was a belch of black smoke from the engine in the machine’s rear, a backfire like a gunshot, and the engine then roared to life.

  Tangrit laughed triumphantly and shouted down to his mechanics, “Let it idle! We’re moving out soon.”

  “We should do a test, sir,” the electrician Amos Farmar responded from within the tank’s bowels. “Make sure she’ll run.”

  The first tank had taken damage to the main cannon and the treads, but that had easily been remedied by a few militia members who were metalsmiths or at least apprentices. The second tank had been the main challenge as a grenade had ripped apart the interior, the control panels and the electrical systems. There were not many electricians in Harren Falls, and none had worked on a tank before, but they had acquitted themselves finely, and the Miravallian militia now had a small armored contingent.

  “Alright,” Tangrit said as he descended down the ladder, swinging the hatch shut behind him. “Let’s make sure this Dominion piece of junk can actually move.”

  Alex heard the sound of the tank’s engine roar to life and he allowed himself a small smile as he heard the whooping of joy coming from Tangrit. He passed by two guards at the front door the National Guards Headquarters, returned their salutes and stepped into the building. Several men who had held guard duty the night before were lying asleep in the main room. He strode past them as quietly as he could and made for Captain Beaurigar’s office.

  After knocking, he received a quiet, “Come in,” and he swung the door open.

  Beaurigar was sitting at his desk, studying handwritten reports. From the uneven scrawling and the long lists, Alex assumed them to be from Torrace’s quartermaster corps, detailing exactly how little Harren Falls had to provide for the massive influx of people on their hands.

  “Ah, Lieutenant,” Beaurigar observed, holding up the pieces of paper. “This is a logistics nightmare. I don’t know how-”

  “Begging your pardon, sir,” Alex interrupted. “But we’ve more pressing matters.”

  “Oh?” Beaurigar responded.

  “We just received confirmation that the Dommies have taken Rainier Ravine,” he said. “Yesterday.”

  “They got that far north already?” Beaurigar demanded, immediately dropping the supply requisition forms. “How’s that possible?”

  “Tanks and airships from the sound of it, but does it matter, sir?” Alex responded. “We need to move now.”

  “You’re suggesting we launch a counteroffensive to reclaim the town?” Beaurigar echoed. “Full marks for bravery, Alex, but we don’t have the men or the firepower to dislodge the Dommies from an occupied position.”

  “I’m not saying we dislodge them, but we need to set up our defensive line now,” he pointed out, walking over to the table upon which the map of Miraval lay.

  Beaurigar joined him and said, “We deploy around the outskirts of the town. Standard echelon formation.”

  Alex had a feeling that he would say that and he had to bite back the rebuke that had formed in his mind. “Respectfully, sir,” he began. “The Dominion can force us to spread our men far too thinly around the perimeter of Harren Falls. According to the refugee who brought this information to me, the Dominion had a full tank division with them, supported by several airships.”

  “Airships can’t reach us here,” the captain countered.

  “No, but they probably ferried a decent number of troops to Rainier Ravine and nothing is stopping them from heading back south to bring more reinforcements,” Alex said. “No matter how we attempt to defend this town, they will easily
overwhelm us.”

  Beaurigar looked coolly at Alex. “I imagine, lieutenant, that you have a suggestion to prevent our destruction rather than just poking holes in my defensive planning,” he said sternly.

  “Yes, sir,” Alex responded, pointing down at the map where Rainier Ravine was located, a town in the center of a large valley between two steep sloping hills of impressive height in the southeastern Crest. “The main road leading from here to Carriage Cross runs straight through here. It’s almost certainly the route the Dommies will take to move on us. The ravine narrows as it rises in elevation and the walls of the ravine are not passable for vehicles. Even experienced climbers would have trouble climbing it, let alone standard infantry men.”

  “It’s a bottleneck,” the captain said knowingly.

  “Exactly,” Alex said excitedly. “If we can get to the egress from that ravine before the Dommies do, we will hold the higher ground and they will only be able to send small numbers against us.”

  “You’ll also have a clear line of sight if they choose to retreat and try to make an end run around the ravine to the east or west,” the captain said, nodding along. “Even that would require them going up really steep hills, cliffs and heavily wooden areas.” He then shook his head and said, “How do we know that the Dommies haven’t already gotten past that point.”

  “Marek and Harrell, the men from Rainier, said that the National Guard had set much of the town ablaze and damaged a lot of homes to provide obstacles to the advancing forces, hoping it would buy time for civilians to escape,” he responded. “If it did slow them down enough, we could beat them to that point and pin them down in the valley.”

  “It’ll take time to get provisions set,” he said. “I’ll have to talk to Torrace.”

  “Captain!” Alex protested. “The provisions can come later. Time is of the essence! We have to get everyone to Rainier Ravine now.”

  “And what if you’re wrong?” he demanded as he fell back into his chair. “If the Dommies have made it through the ravine, you’ll find yourself completely flat-footed against a more mobile, better armed, and superiorly numbered enemy.”

  “Then we’ll be destroyed,” Alex replied. “But we’ll certainly be destroyed if an entire Dominion army comes rolling toward this town. There are no bridges to blow up, no gorges to drown the enemy in, captain.”

  Captain Beaurigar exhaled slowly. “Take the fastest vehicle Torrace can give you and as many men as it will hold,” he said. “Take the radio with you and let me know if the Dommies have made it out of the ravine. I will get the rest of the men assembled and we’ll march if we don’t hear from you.”

  “I understand, sir,” Alex said as he saluted. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Don’t thank me,” Beaurigar said. “There’s a very good chance I’m sending you to your death. And if they kill you before you alert us, it will be all of our deaths.”

  8

  There were eight of them crowded into the jeep they had commandeered from the last Dominion force that had headed toward Harren Falls, racing through the twists and turns of the road as it sliced through rolling yet descending hills, carving its way through the woods. The seven men with Alex were all new recruits to the cause from the refugees that had fled up from the south or were among those who had fled rather than fight the first time the National Guard had put out the call for volunteers.

  Alex would rather have shipped out with a group that had been tested in battle at Ava’s Gorge several times over, but he knew the militia was still battle weary, and he needed men who were fresh. And women, he added in his own mind as he looked to the pale, dark-haired woman named Elisha who had volunteered. She was crowded into the back of the jeep with Alex and four others, while a driver, the man helming the forward mounted machine gun and the man standing at the swiveling back mounted gun finished out his squad. There was another smaller car that Torrace had requisitioned from one of his farmer friends that was packed with seven men, but was several miles behind them. The old jalopy just could not keep pace with a Dominion jeep and Alex had made the decision that it was better that some of them arrive at the egress to the ravine before the Dommies than all of them be too late.

  Alex looked at his watch and had just enough time to think that they should almost be there by now when machine gun fire raked across the jeep’s windshield, sending glass showering into the back seat. Blood spurted into the air as the jeep’s driver was riddled with holes. With the driver dead, the jeep veered off the road and crashed into a solid hardwood tree.

  Feeling the impact across his whole body, Alex’s head slammed backwards against the Jeep’s metal frame. The jarring impact was followed by what felt like a dozen people falling on top of him as his ears filled with a concussive ringing, a screaming that he could not place, and the staccato rattling of machine gun fire. The world went gray for several moments as Alex’s head swam and he lost all track of where he was.

  When he finally came to his senses, Alex was face down in the mud, hearing the rush of the nearby New River as it churned forward. He pulled himself to his knees, forcing down an overwhelming feeling of nausea, and checked himself for injuries. His head was bleeding and a ringing headache was pounding against his skull, but he did not appear to be shot and he was pretty certain that nothing was broken. The jeep was crashed against a tree about ten yards away, the corpse of the driver whose name Alex had never learned was slumped across the steering column. Two other men of the militia lay dead, one whose neck looked like it had been hideously broken in the crash and another who looked like he had been shot and blasted back off the jeep. Alex recognized him as Rackham Donnelly, one of the Harren Falls men who had fled from the Dommies’ first attack on their home. Elisha had taken his place on the rotating rear gun and was sending bursts of fire toward the south and an enemy that Alex could not yet see.

  Alex pulled himself to his feet and moved forward as fast as he could, keeping low the entire time, until he could place his back against the wheel of the crashed vehicle. Andriq, one of the refugees from a village called Honey Hollow had his back pressed against the other tire, his rifle clutched to his chest. He looked too terrified to have actually used the weapon. Donovan, who had joined up with Andriq was on the front cannon and firing, occasionally ducking as the jeep got hit with more machine gun fire. The fifth surviving member of the crash was another refugee by the name of Jaxton. He had taken up position behind the crashed jeep and was firing into the western woods.

  “How many?” Alex shouted up to Donovan.

  “I don’t know,” the gunner responded in between bursts of fire.

  “Try to keep them pinned down,” Alex ordered. “I’m going to do a recon.” He turned to the shell shocked Andriq and said, “Come on.”

  Andriq shook his head.

  “Now, solider!” Alex ordered.

  “I can’t!” Andriq protested.

  Angrily Alex drew his pistol and aimed it at Andriq’s head. “You’ll come or I’ll shoot you myself,” he said.

  That finally got Andriq moving and the two men darted into the woods in between the road and the river, using the large trees as cover as Alex led them forward until they were at a location where he could see the Dominion position. The New River left the woods and drew up next to the road, which hugged the higher bank of the river at the entrance to the ravine. That entrance was only about one hundred feet wide and half of that was taken up by the river. Beyond the opening to the valley, Alex could see both the river and the road dip at a downward angle as they sliced through the steep grass-covered sides of the sloping ravine walls. Atop the rising hills on either side of the ravine were thick clusters of trees and nearly impenetrable woods and steep hills, which was why the river road was the only passage through the Crest that a vehicle could take.

  The problem that Alex immediately saw was the large amount of cover provided by the landscape. The river and the road were open enough areas as was the mouth of the ravine, but the woods encroached upo
n both and gave ample places for the Dommies to hide. Their force had not had time to set up any type of fortifications or was simply not expecting resistance, but either way, they were not firmly lodged into the position. If they could strike hard enough, Alex thought they could retake the ravine opening, but he was having trouble getting an idea of how many Dommies there were.

  There were a couple of dead soldiers who had been caught by either Donovan’s or Elisha’s fire, but now the enemy was simply darting back and forth between the trees, taking potshots at the crashed jeep and rather easily avoiding the return fire. Andriq brought up his rifle as if to take a shot and Alex immediately pushed the barrel back down.

  “Don’t give away our position,” he said quietly.

  “What do we do?” Andriq asked.

  Alex studied the terrain and the position of the Dommies for a moment, noting that the New River made two very sharp curves that sent it curling around the small wooded area in between the road and the river. It resulted in their being a small swath of forest in between the river and the road in which they now stood as did about half of the Dominion force. Movement on the western side of the road told Alex that the other half were hiding in the trees there, trying to get around the Miravallian position and attack them from the rear.

  Alex smiled slightly as he realized there may be a way to flank the enemy. “Can you swim?” he asked Andriq.

  9

  At university, Alex had heard of men who were making strides on ways to improve the aqualung, creating underwater breathing devices that did not require an air pipe back to the surface, but for his purposes, the oldest methods would perhaps work best. He led Andriq to the shallows of the river where there were some bamboo reeds growing. Using a skinning knife that had been given to him by Dag, he sawed through the bamboo until he had two three-foot long pieces and passed one to the confused looking Andriq.