by Payne, T. L.
“Those bastards are like freaking cockroaches,” Corey said. “I came up to tell you guys that the military is pulling back this way. We’d been hearing bombing for two days before the first convoy came through. There’s heavy fighting not more than ten miles from us.”
Isabella gasped, and her hand rose to her throat. “That close!”
“The soldiers that I talked to said not to worry. They were just moving their headquarters and supplies. They were confident that they would be able to defeat them soon.”
“How many are there?” Isabella asked, her voice pitchy.
“They wouldn’t give details, but Dad sent some guys down to see if we needed to prepare to bug out, and they said there were a shit ton of Chinese fighters and tanks just south of the airport. Somebody blew holes all along the runway. Ain’t nobody landing any planes there.”
Isabella turned to Will. “They’re too close.” Tears glistened in her eyes. Her fear was understandable. They’d seen firsthand the damage a few hundred insurgents could do. An army with tanks and proper military weapons would be far worse.
“What’s your dad’s plan?” Will asked Corey.
“He left two guys down there. If they cross Highway 108, we’re all heading this way.”
Isabella’s forehead furrowed, and she touched Will’s arm. “How far away is that?”
“Twenty or so miles.”
“Gawd!” She bent over at the waist and sucked in a deep breath.
“They’re moving really slow, and the military is still between them and us,” Corey said.
“If the military can’t defeat them, what chance do we have?”
“They’re waiting for reinforcements, or so the dude I spoke to said. The National Guard from Arkansas is even headed this way.”
“What the hell is taking them so long?” Isabella asked.
“Lack of technology would be my best guess.” Corey nodded toward the woodline where the shooter was located. “What are we going to do about him?”
Will raised his rifle and peered through the scope. He scanned from right to left until he spotted Walker’s blind. If he hadn’t known right where to look, he would have never seen it. “Walker and Tank will take care of him.” Isabella had expressed some concern when his cousins and their crew from the casino in Vincent had agreed to join forces to defend their community. She’d since come to learn that although their outfit liked to play hard, they were just down-to-earth and fiercely patriotic folks, people with families. When they’d learned who was behind the EMP and that foreign invaders had dared step on Cajun soil, they’d immediately set to work devising a plan to secure the area. The well-concealed hunting blinds had been Troy’s idea. Nearly thirty people now guarded their southern border along the various rain-swollen gullies and bayous at least two miles from their homes along Sugar Cove Road.
Will continued scanning low to the ground. Walker and Tank were impossible to see in the brush. He waited for movement. A second later, the grass moved ever so slightly. “They’re making their way there now.”
As the three of them waited for the sound of gunfire to tell them Walker and Tank had acquired their target, Will rehearsed their bug-out plan over and over in his mind. The group had grown since Will and the others had arrived. Savanah’s pastures were now filled with tents and motor homes where, in addition to Tank’s crew, some of the neighbors who’d been made aware of the battle raging thirty miles to their south had opted to move closer to the protection of the new Sugar Cove security force. Even with all the extra armed patrols, Will still was unable to relax.
They wouldn’t have much time to flee. Everyone had been instructed to have a go-bag packed with the barest of essentials ready to go at a moment’s notice. They’d be going on foot. The military had taken all available fuel in town, and running the four-wheelers and side-by-sides up and down the roads doing patrols and manning observation posts had used up most of their gasoline.
Boom!
“One shot. One kill,” Will said under his breath. They were low on ammo and couldn’t afford to do any target practice. Walker had taken over responsibility for weapons training. Five rounds were all a new shooter was afforded to practice with—certainly not enough to be proficient. Hopefully, they wouldn’t need to be. Those that had never handled a weapon before were assigned to the rear, where they would be the last line of defense—if it came to that. Will was determined that it wouldn’t, which meant that he’d taken double shifts and was operating on only a few hours of sleep a day. They all were running on empty.
The Chinese weren’t their only threat. The remaining Blanchards had been full of bluster in the days following the battle in Vincent that had left Buzz and his henchmen dead. After the military rolled through town, Valson had escaped, along with several of his relatives. They’d waited a week or more before returning to Sugar Hill and attempting to ramp up their previous efforts to terrorize and plunder their way through the parish.
“You think they got him?” Isabella said, pulling Will from his thoughts.
“Yeah. There would have been a lot more shooting if they hadn’t.”
Will hadn’t wanted Isabella to join the watch teams. He’d tried to convince her to stay behind, to guard the farm and the children, but she’d have none of that. When Walker had tried to put her on a different shift from Will, she’d balked, even when Walker said he’d be her partner. She’d made out that it was the only time they had to be alone together, but Will suspected it was something more. He thought maybe she was concerned that he’d take unnecessary risks without her there to remind him that he was still Cayden’s only parent. He didn’t need her to remind him of that. But things were different now. He had family there to rely on in case he didn’t return, so maybe she was right though, in some ways, it was harder having her there with him. His concern for her safety might put others at risk. He didn’t want to make that mistake.
A moment later, Tank appeared in the open field, holding his thumb into the air.
“They got him,” Will said. “I’ll be right back.”
Will met Tank near the large row of blackberry bushes the shooter had been hiding behind. “Is he local?” Tank knew what he meant by that. The man was dressed in hunter’s camouflage, and his face was painted black and green. It was hard to tell his nationality. Will’s eyes landed on his rifle, leaning against a nearby tree. Walker picked it up and stared through its scope.
“That looks expensive.”
“It probably was,” Walker replied.
“He ain’t Chinese. He could be local, but I don’t know him. He was obviously waiting to take out our messengers though. He fired as soon as Corey stopped,” Tank said.
“Did you check his pockets?” Isabella asked as she walked up behind them. “He could be carrying a wallet or some form of identification.”
Tank nodded toward the man on the ground. “Help yourself.”
Isabella approached the dead man and stood over his body. She studied him for a moment before kneeling and rolling him onto his side. Will rushed over and held him as she reached into his back pocket. “He’s not Chinese. His driver’s license says he’s from Bethesda, Maryland.”
Tank’s eyebrows raised. “Maryland?”
“That’s a suburb of Washington, DC,” Will said.
“What’s he doing down here? And why is he shooting at our messengers?” Isabella asked. She pulled a business card from his wallet, stared at it for a moment, and handed it to Will whose eyes grew wide. “Wasn’t he Kim Yang’s handler?”
“Who’s Kim Yang?” Corey asked as she approached them.
“She was a Chinese spy we met in Houston,” Isabella said.
Corey held both hands up, palms out, and took a step back. “Wait a minute. What’s going on here?”
Will shook his head. “I have no idea.” None of it made sense to him. How this shooter was related to Kim Yang and the men she worked with, Will didn’t know, but his presence there sent up about a million red fl
ags. “We need to alert someone.”
“The military convoy should be through here in a few hours. Maybe you should tell them.”
“Maybe they were his target,” Isabella said.
“Then why the hell did they shoot at me? I don’t look like a soldier,” Corey said.
“Probably just passing the time with a little target practice,” Tank said, picking up the rifle and inspecting it for himself.
When the military convoy rolled through on its way south toward the front lines, the lieutenant that Will spoke to didn’t seem to understand the significance of finding the business card of a Chinese spy in the pocket of the dead shooter.
“I’ll pass this information on to my command,” was the extent of the man’s reply. He looked bone-weary. The fighting and the pressure to hold the enemy back from the interior of the country must have been an enormous weight on all the soldiers.
“I have to get back. My dad will want to know what happened here today,” Corey said, throwing a leg back over her quad and starting the machine. “We’ll send word if they cross the highway.”
Will was determined to be ready to leave whether that occurred or not. He’d just have to convince the others that it was the wisest course of action.
Two
Will
In the days since Corey had brought news that the fighting was nearing Highway 108, Will was always on edge, waiting for the day the war spilled over into their world. Will had been even more vigilant pulling more and more watch shifts. He yawned as he slid his foot into his boot, pulled the laces tight, grabbed his pack and rifle, and walked toward the door. He glanced back at his sister, who was at the kitchen sink still in her bathrobe. The sun had just peeked over the horizon, but the farm was already alive with activity.
Isabella tilted her head to one side and placed a hand on her hip. “I thought all the guard shifts were already covered.”
They were. But even though weeks had passed since the visit from Corey and they’d heard nothing more about the battle along the coast. It had been a little over two months since the world went dark, and Will was yet to feel any more settled into his new life at the homestead in Calcasieu Parish, Louisiana.
It seemed that the number of occupants kept growing as nearby residents either ran out of resources or fell victim to raiders. At some point in the last few weeks, Will had lost count of how many people had banded together on his sister’s farm. They’d had to extend their borders to the Bertrands’ property to accommodate all the RVs and hastily thrown-together shacks that the refugees now called home. The Bertrands were happy to return to their farmhouse and open their doors to them.
“I just need to go check on everyone—make sure they have all the ammo and supplies they need,” Will said before shutting the door behind him.
He didn’t wait for another lecture from Isabella or Savanah about him pushing himself too hard. They just didn’t understand. The stakes were too high to trust all the details to strangers. Not when the safety of his family was at risk; he worried that they relied on old-world thinking, unaware of the magnitude of the dangers outside their community.
As he walked up the drive toward Sugar Cove Road, he passed Jason and Blake coming in after their shifts had ended. They gave one another curt nods and continued on their way. Will pulled up his T-shirt and wiped the sweat from his brow. It was turning out to be rather warm for mid-November, and Will already felt drained from the heat.
The day-to-day struggle to keep everyone fed and safe had taken its toll on them all. Nerves were frayed, and with everyone living in such close quarters, tensions were running high among the survivors of Sugar Cove Road. He and Jason had different ideas on how to go about ensuring that the residents of Sugar Hill were no longer a threat and remained behind their gates, Will being convinced that Jason’s interest was in protecting his family members who may or may not be residing there. Will had wanted them all gone. They’d compromised by placing a checkpoint just outside the community's gate.
Will stepped through the gate and headed west.
“Dad?” Cayden called from the gate at the end of Savanah’s driveway.
“Yeah, Cayden?”
“I can take a shift, and you could get some rest.”
Will stopped in the middle of the road and looked back at his thirteen-year-old son. He seemed to have aged years since the day of the EMP, yet it was still difficult for Will to let go and stop treating him like a little boy. He had promised Melanie that he’d protect him, and he was doing everything he could to keep that promise.
“I’m good, son. I just need to check on things since Pete and Rob went to town.”
They’d gone to speak with Will’s cousins, Tank, Troy, and Gabby, to see what they’d learned from their visit to Fort Polk. He was anxious for news about the war with the Chinese that had so far managed to remain south of the Intercoastal Waterway.
“Can I just come with you to the roadblock? There’s nothing else for me to do. Karson and I have already cleaned out the barn and fixed the hog’s pen for today.”
Will studied Cayden as he stood with his arms draped over the gate and a rifle slung over his back. Everyone went armed whenever they were outside of their homes. It was the rule. They’d had some skirmishes with the residents of Sugar Hill in the early days, and they weren’t taking any chance of getting caught off guard.
The corners of Will’s mouth curled up slightly. “Run and tell Isabella where you are going so she doesn’t send out a search party.”
“Wait right there,” Cayden called over his shoulder as he ran back toward the old farmhouse.
Will knew Isabella would be pleased that they would be spending time together. She’d chastised Will several times about making it a priority, even though there was so much to do. He and Isabella were growing closer every day. She loved Cayden, and he adored her. It seemed wrong somehow to be falling in love when the whole world was going to shit around them, but Will couldn’t help himself. Isabella was amazing and filled his life with hope in the midst of the darkness.
It seemed that the event had brought his sister love as well. Will had strongly objected to her relationship with Jason Blanchard. The Jason he’d known was as bad as the rest of his family, but from what Will had witnessed since he’d arrived in Calcasieu Parish, Jason seemed to genuinely love Savanah and the kids, though Will wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t also loyal to his family.
The smile on Cayden’s face as he ran back toward Will melted away the negative thoughts swirling in his brain about Jason and the rest of the Blanchards. It was so good to see Cayden happy for a change. They’d spent the prior two years in such a dark place after Cayden’s mother had died, and although they’d faced unprecedented hardship since the EMP took out the power grid and sent the nation back to the Stone Age, Will’s relationship with his son had never been better. In many ways, he believed he had Isabella to thank for that.
“What’s that?” Will asked, pointing to the bundle in Cayden’s right hand.
Cayden’s smile spread from ear to ear. “Cookies.”
“Oatmeal or peanut butter?”
“Oatmeal,” Cayden replied. “With raisins. Savanah said you forgot to eat breakfast—again.”
Finding enough food to feed everyone was getting harder and harder every day. Will knew that soon, they’d be heading into winter with nothing. He couldn’t enjoy his bacon and eggs, knowing so many people were literally starving to death.
Cayden stuffed the cookies into a pouch on the side of his backpack and opened the gate. His grandfather’s old tractor had been moved back to the barn after the threat of someone plowing through the gate on a motorized vehicle had been eliminated by the roadblocks at both ends of Sugar Cove Road and the booby traps along the drive had been removed to make it safe for all the newcomers and their children. Will looked back at the field where his grandfather used to have his horses. It was now filled with campers and tents.
“Let’s get going and make
our rounds,” Will said as he shut the gate behind Cayden.
As they walked toward the Sugar Hill roadblock, Cayden asked, “When do you think Pete and Rob will get back and let us know what they’re saying at the army base?”
It was all that had been on everyone’s minds since Corey had described the fighting potentially crossing the Intercoastal Waterway. So far, the military from Fort Polk, along with National Guard units, had held their own against the invading Chinese army but the word was that they were running low on supplies, and moving more to the front lines was difficult due to the lack of transportation.
In addition to running low on munitions, they’d put a call out for all able-bodied residents to join the fight. That was when Will had known just how dire the situation was. He struggled with his decision to stay and protect his family over joining the battle and saving the nation. He struggled with it every day. His gaze fell upon his son. He’d promised Melanie he’d protect and care for him. They had been their last words to one another and he couldn’t break that promise. If he died, who would protect his family?
As Will and Cayden approached the line of cars, trucks, and tractors that blocked the intersection near Sugar Hill’s gated community, he spotted Jane and Luca standing close together whispering. Jane glanced up and then quickly looked away. Whatever they were discussing was obviously personal and private. He wouldn’t pry by asking.
“What’s wrong?” Cayden asked as they approached the couple.
“Wrong?” Luca said, avoiding their gaze. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s been very quiet in there for our entire shift.”
Cayden looked up at Will with a questioning look. Will shook his head slightly, indicating that Cayden shouldn’t push the matter.
“You have everything you need? Do you have enough water? You’re keeping hydrated, right?” Will asked, turning to the reason for their visit to the roadblock.
“Yep,” Jane said, slinging her rifle around to the front and returning to her lawn chair near the edge of the roadway.
