by Nathan Jones
Then, just as he opened fire and the first spray of enemy bullets peppered the ground around him, a miracle happened.
At least as far as he was concerned. Between one moment and the next the blockheads in the back of the truck suddenly went flying, many of them gruesomely shredded. Raul had no idea what had happened there but didn't hesitate to take advantage of it, unloading lead at the downed enemy soldiers and then at the cab of the truck.
The driver started to peel away, then screeched to a halt for some reason; maybe contemplating trying to recover some of the wounded. Before he could make up his mind Lewis, who'd come around the other side of their truck, sent a spray of .308 bullets through the window, downing the man at the wheel as well as a possible passenger.
A moment later a smaller figure in body armor threw herself down beside Raul. “Injuries?” Carrie asked tersely. Before he could answer she began giving him a quick pat down, checking for bullet wounds. It was a bizarre turnabout of what had happened just minutes earlier after the explosion.
Raul could only gape at her. “Was that you?” he asked, jerking his head towards the scattered bodies around the truck.
The scarred veteran nodded. “Grenade. Souvenir I took with me when I was discharged.”
So she had a bit of a klepto streak. Also she hadn't let the town know she had a frag available, when it could've helped them once or twice. Considering how she'd just used it he wasn't about to complain. “Nice throw.”
Carrie paused in checking around their cover long enough to give him a crooked smile. “Girls softball pitcher for three years. Out of the female recruits the military picked up from my town, I was one of the only ones who could throw a grenade far enough to qualify to carry them.”
Shouts from the other side of the sandbags seemed to indicate the blockheads there were withdrawing, probably at the knowledge their intended victims had grenades. Raul cautiously popped out to make sure and fire a few potshots at their retreating forms, although with them darting from cover to cover he didn't score any hits.
With the current threats dealt with he was planning on getting a better view of their surroundings so he could take stock of their situation. But before he could a horn blast from their truck, still somehow running after everything, whipped him and Carrie both around.
Lewis leaned out the passenger door. “Come on!” he shouted. “The military's got the way ahead clear, it's now or never!”
Raul didn't need to be told twice. After a quick check to make sure no immediate threats were in sight he bolted from cover behind the sandbags, scrambling for the truck. Carrie waited just long enough to be sure he didn't come under attack and need cover fire before following.
Lewis had the big truck moving even before Raul jumped in, and he leaned down to help haul Carrie up as they lurched forward. She fell into his lap and scrambled over him to the middle seat, nearly kneeing him in the crotch as they went over a vicious bump.
Their friend drove them along the shoulder of the road, weaving around obstacles like half-turned trucks and out onto the rough dirt terrain beside it where necessary. They hadn't gone far before he glanced over at them, expression grim under his helmet. “Get down in the foot space,” he snapped. “Only one of us needs to be exposed if we come under fire.”
That made sense, especially with the windows shattered. Speaking of which . . . Raul fumbled behind the seat for his pack and pulled out the eye protection he'd brought along, just in case he was going to do some shooting. They wouldn't make a perfect airtight seal, but were better than sunglasses with wind blasting at them through the windshield at any sort of speed. He handed the goggles to Lewis, who drove one-handed as he tugged them on.
“Thanks.”
Raul didn't bother to reply, focused on turning up the heat in the truck to compensate for the chilly early morning air blasting them from outside. Then he slithered down into the foot space that Carrie already occupied. There wasn't nearly enough room for both of them, and he found himself half on top of her, feeling her panting breath hot on his neck. Which would've been more enjoyable under different circumstances.
Her thoughts seemed to have gone down similar paths. “Some first date, huh?” the young woman asked, her shaking voice not quite managing the amused tone she was going for. “Went right from feeling each other up to finding a secluded spot to make out.”
At that moment a hard bump slammed them up and then down against each other, which it turned out wasn't at all enjoyable as various limbs hit various vulnerable spots. “If we tried that right now we'd end up shattering each other's teeth,” he quipped back, wincing around bruised ribs.
With some effort and wiggling around he was able to scoot back against the passenger door, giving them both more space. They sat there like that, staring at each other wide-eyed and occasionally reaching out to support each other through a hard bump or jostle.
Up in the driver's seat Lewis kept up a running commentary on what was happening as they drove. From his description a surprising number of vehicles were undamaged and were joining the line roaring to safety. He guessed anywhere from three-quarters to four-fifths.
From another perspective, losing twenty-five vehicles in this attack was a disaster. But Raul and his friends had all managed to make it through, and so had their vehicle, so he wasn't complaining. Besides, the blockheads had to have lost a lot too, so that was something.
The CB was also filled with chatter, mostly military barking directions at specific civilian vehicles or keeping everyone informed on what was happening. The rearguard was taking a battering but holding on until as many vehicles in the convoy as possible had escaped. The advance guard couldn't get in touch with the scouts they'd sent out last night or this morning, so they were sending more vehicles ahead to scout that the way forward was safe. Meanwhile they had soldiers out hunting down the last of the blockheads who'd ambushed them in front, and also trucks coming back along the line to deal with any further attacks from the sides.
Lewis was wisely crouched down as far as possible, to the point where he could barely see where they were going. But as they passed the sight of the ambush he crouched even lower, in spite of the military's assurances it was more or less safe. They had to weave their way around destroyed vehicles or torn up patches of road to keep going, which meant slowing down, and Raul felt Carrie's breath against his face stop as she held it in tense silence.
On the other hand Lewis seemed to need to talk to break the tension. “It's a good thing we had this truck,” he said as he twisted and turned the wheel around obstacles. “That machine gun fire would've totaled the engine of a normal vehicle.”
Raul felt like he should respond, even though his fight or flight instincts were screaming at him to be small and silent. “We're lucky they didn't take out any of the tires. Especially on the trailer.”
His friend nodded tersely. “Yeah, hopefully we're all good to keep going. Although I'm guessing that once we're in the clear the military will insist on stopping to regroup, deal with the wounded, and repair critical damage to the vehicles while their scouts check the way ahead and keep an eye on the ambushers behind us.”
“You really think we're going to stop with enemies so close?” Carrie asked. Not belligerently, but almost in disbelief.
She couldn't see his shrug. “It's that or limp along all spread out, losing vehicles by the mile and with people dying to wounds that could've been treated with battlefield triage, while the blockheads sniffing at our tail sense weakness and close in to harass us.”
The young woman didn't argue further. Either she accepted his points or she couldn't muster the will to press the issue. Raul noticed she was shaking, teeth chattering loudly enough even he could hear them through his slowly healing eardrums. He wasn't in great shape himself, and the confined space wasn't helping.
Although having her there with him was definitely comforting. “You okay?” he said quietly, leaning forward to put a hand on her shoulder. They seemed to be past
the worst of the wreckage and onto straight, even road again.
“What?” she asked loudly. Obviously her hearing was still recovering. But she seemed to figure out what he'd asked through context and responded. “Okay, I guess. Although I feel like I just bounced my way down a rocky slope.”
Yeah, once the adrenaline wore off Raul was definitely going to be feeling his own scrapes and bruises. And they'd have to keep an eye out for shock.
“How are you doing, Lewis?” he called.
“Surviving. I was under the truck when the explosion went off, trying to find a spot to shoot from behind the front wheel. I think it protected me, although I got slammed up into the undercarriage by the blast. Other than that no bullet holes I'm aware of.”
Raul carefully poked his head up to look out a window. They seemed past the ambush point, and the entire convoy was speeding up. Squinting against the blast of air coming through the broken windshield he pushed up onto the seat and began checking his friend over.
“It's possible to miss wounds during the shock and adrenaline of combat,” he said to Lewis's questioning glance. “Even serious ones.” He leaned back from his brief inspection, satisfied for the moment. No sign of blood flowing that he could see.
Since he was up Carrie wiggled her way up to join him too, brushing away some of the chunks of safety glass to sit more comfortably. Together they squinted against the blast of wind coming through the broken windshield and windows, watching the surrounding countryside warily as they continued on and listening to further developments on the CB as they went.
A few minutes later the officer's voice came through, announcing that they'd be stopping to regroup at a scenic turnoff up ahead.
Chapter Twenty
Aftermath
What Lewis had predicted would be a short stop turned into a long one.
It couldn't be helped. More than a dozen vehicles had taken serious damage that needed to be repaired before they could reasonably continue, and there were a lot of seriously wounded who'd just been dragged into a vehicle with their injuries untreated as the convoy fled.
On the plus side their luck seemed to have improved. The scouts going ahead reported that the help they'd requested days ago from the military in Utah was finally coming, only a couple hours away. The reinforcements had also checked the rest of the way to Manti and confirmed it was clear.
The other good news was that it looked like the blockheads were content with the damage they'd done, or maybe they'd been given a good enough beating that they couldn't keep up the attack. Either way they seemed to have fled with their stolen trucks and supplies, and none of the scouts combing the area in all directions caught even a hint of their presence.
Lewis didn't mind. It gave him and his friends a chance to break out his first aid kit and treat their minor injuries, as well as going over the vehicle more thoroughly. Miraculously the engine seemed undamaged, even though a few of the bullets had punched through the reinforced side and hood plates. The trailer was also intact, although one of its tires was flat and needed to be replaced. Luckily it had double tires, so while the flat would be a serious problem if left alone for long enough it hadn't been an immediate disaster.
It did mean they had to unload a lot of the stuff in the trailer before the jack could manage to lift it high enough to pop on the spare. Luckily they had plenty of time for the lengthy task. They found a few bags pierced by bullet holes, leaking grain, but other than that their precious cargo seemed intact.
After that the next priority was the windshield and windows. They found a clear plastic covering they'd used to wrap their electronics in case of rain, which made a flimsy but tolerable substitute. Just to be safe Lewis cut out a panel out of the plastic just in front of the driver's seat, afraid that even that thin barrier would obscure the driver's vision more than was safe; it looked like the goggles would get more use.
Once those tasks were done they headed off into the convoy to offer what help they could. There was plenty to do, between moving cargo from trucks that had to be abandoned into other already overloaded trucks, to assisting the military's medics with helping patients, to helping with vehicle repairs, to simply passing out food and water to stunned survivors.
After a couple hours the military escort sent from Utah arrived, including more medical personnel, mechanics, and medical supplies and spare parts. With their help the convoy was ready to leave in another hour.
Given how exciting the morning had been, the rest of the day was blessedly uneventful. Thanks to delays caused by the attack and subsequent regrouping, the trip that should've been finished in the early afternoon stretched on until by the time they reached Manti the sun was about to set.
Once there Lewis and his friends had a bit of an argument about what to do. The military offered the convoy its protection for anyone who wanted to stay for the night, which was tempting. And much as Lewis wanted to push on through the darkness alone he knew it wouldn't be safe, even in supposedly protected US territory. There were always bandits or opportunistic locals to fear, and the drive back to new Aspen Hill from Manti was circuitous and had its share of rough spots.
And even though they seemed close to home as the crow flew, it wasn't a short drive. They couldn't take the canyon the way his dad and the others had on the mule last fall, since there was no way the large truck hauling a trailer could handle that road, so they'd have to circle up and around through Fairview to Highway 31 and then back down, which would add a couple more hours to their trip.
Besides, Lewis wanted to touch base with a few of the friends and contacts he'd made in the convoy, make sure they were okay and discuss future trade agreements with the town.
His friends were torn about the decision. After the traumatic day they'd had, and before that all the nights on watch disrupting proper sleep, a chance to just crash was tempting. But at the same time they were beaten up and traumatized and wanted to be home sleeping in their own beds. Eventually they accepted his reasoning, if reluctantly, but only at the promise that they'd be allowed to sleep in longer in the morning.
Lewis was just fine with that. He left them to set up camp while he headed out into the fading light to do some final business before heading home.
* * * * *
Raul's legs dragged as he finished the few tasks necessary for setting up camp. Faraday had come around with firewood, which was nice, and while Carrie moved even more sluggishly finishing her own tasks he got to work starting a fire.
By the time he finished the young woman had got out a camp chair and was slumped down in it staring at the flickering flames. Raul grabbed the other chair and went to join her, and since he had the option of setting it up to her left or right he picked her right.
Maybe it was selfish of him, but if you twisted his arm he'd admit he couldn't pass up any chance to see the unscarred side of her face in profile. The sight always took his breath away, and even more so now that her beauty was softened by firelight and she'd just saved his life.
It wasn't that her scars repelled him, although it was hard not to remember the sight of her empty socket the few times when looking at her eyepatch reminded him of it. But that didn't really bother him either; he respected how she'd got her injuries and the courage with which she dealt with having them. In a way the scars were even starting to grow on him.
It was just, well, with more arm twisting he'd have to admit that the sight of them made him sad. He remembered the way Carrie had looked at him after he'd seen her missing eye, the shame and mortification. The scars represented a source of pain for someone he was coming to care deeply about, which hurt him as well.
Knowing she'd have to deal with that for the rest of her life felt so unfair: the snide comments from people who'd try to hurt her just because they could, the involuntary flinching away, something Raul himself had been guilty of when he first met her, and the cruel things kids would say that adults only thought. Even the mingled respect and pity of people who knew how she'd gotten the sca
rs, who couldn't see how their attempts to be nice only cut deeper.
She deserved better than that.
He jumped when Carrie abruptly turned to face him, smiling that lopsided grin of hers. “Okay, dude, you've been staring at me for the last minute. I'm not sure whether to be flattered or creeped out.”
Raul hurriedly tore his eyes away and stared into the flames, embarrassed at his thoughts. “Sorry.”
The young woman wasn't about to let him off the hook. “Like what you see?” she teased, probably referring to what he'd said to her back in Moab when he caught her admiring his chest.
He wasn't about to say he'd seen better. He wasn't sure he had. “Yes,” he admitted.
It was her turn to look embarrassed, and her face flushed as she turned back to the fire.
An awkward silence fell. Raul wanted to find a way to bring up the fighting earlier. What it meant that she'd saved his life, how scared he'd been for her safety. But he couldn't think of a way to do it without sounding stupid.
Somewhere in the military camp a truck engine rumbled to life, and Carrie abruptly shivered. “Well I didn't miss that noise. A small silver lining to the collapse of the modern world.”
“Truck engines?” Raul asked dubiously, although he was grateful to be talking about anything at that point.
“Sure. I mean I've only noticed how much vehicle noises stand out since we joined the convoy, but it reminds me of hearing them at night growing up.” Raul just stared at her blankly, and Carrie laughed. “Come on. As a kid didn't you ever think the squealing of tires and the rumble of engines sounded like banshee wails and monster growls?”
“I guess,” he said slowly. “Easy to forget about the nonsense you're scared of as a kid, when you grow up and realize there are real things out there to be afraid of.”
“Yeah.” She looked back towards the fire, but he noticed she also scooted her chair slightly, as if adjusting its position. Which happened to bring her closer to him.
