by Nathan Jones
Their leader scowled. “So we get the blame because we got hungry?”
“No, you get the blame because you're in the middle of a camp and dozens of people saw what happened.” Davis motioned towards the crowd in front of the mess tent. “I could get the story from them, but I'd say I'm a decent judge of character and I already have a pretty good idea of what happened here.”
The sergeant turned to the Marines watching the three men. “Sit them down somewhere and keep an eye on them.” He turned to Matt and Trev. “You two, head back to your camp. And do a better job about avoiding trouble next time.”
That wasn't exactly fair, but Matt wasn't in the mood to argue. Unfortunately Trev was. “What about them?”
“That's between me and Vernon,” Davis barked. “You worry about your own duties. Speaking of which, I'll need to talk to you later about how things will change with training starting tomorrow. Larson may've already told you, but I'd like to mash over some specifics.”
Trev nodded, and together he and Matt started for their camp. “You okay?” his friend whispered when they were out of earshot of the Marines.
Matt nodded and rubbed at the side of his head. “A bit dazed. Guy got me with a good shot right there at the end.”
“Sorry to drag you into that.” Trev glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. “If it makes you feel better, at least tomorrow you and your squad will be that much farther from Vernon and his thugs.”
“So much better.” Matt clapped his friend on the shoulder and quickened his pace. “Speaking of which, we've got plenty of things to do before now and then.”
Trev hustled to catch up. “Yeah, I should probably start drawing up a list of volunteers who are competent enough to help with the training once you guys leave.”
* * * * *
The Aspen Hill mountain refuge had a different energy than the town, although in many cases the circumstances weren't all that different.
People were still tightly packed together, in whatever crude shelters the town could build for them or they could raise for themselves. Part of that was to escape the elements, but a bigger part was to share warmth in the cooler air of the higher elevations, where the temperature dropped sharply at night.
The biggest difference, though, was how people tended to gather to do chores in a more camping atmosphere. For some things communal chores had been common in the town, like defense, but here people cooked, washed clothes and dishes, gathered firewood, and built shelters in large groups rather than going out on their own.
Although the group from Lewis's shelter had built their camp in with the rest of the refuge, if at the outskirts, in many ways it felt like a smaller camp within a camp. Some of that was the animals, the rabbits and chickens and sheep, which were among the few livestock in camp. They stood out in their cages and in the small fenced-in area where the small herd grazed, in the middle of the group's smaller camp.
More of it was the fact that, aside from the town itself and a few of the better off families, the group was one of the only ones with a stockpile of supplies worth protecting. Near the animals the tarp-covered carts and wagons rested beside a pile of more food and other valuables, sitting on a tarp and covered by another.
There was always at least one person from the group on duty, watching over the animals and belongings. In spite of the sense of community the town had developed during the attack by Turner and his raiders, it would be stupid not to take that precaution.
Lewis only hoped there wouldn't be a problem while four of the group's best shooters were gone for the night. Catherine Tillman, Aspen Hill's Mayor, had promised to look out for everyone during that time, but he still worried.
Over the last few days he, his wife Jane, and everyone they'd convinced to at least consider the possibility of attacking the blockheads occupying the town of Aspen Hill below, had spent hours debating the best way to go about it. The ideas had varied from roaring in on their truck and repeating Lewis's earlier maneuver in the canyon with the M2 Browning, to copying Turner's tactic of hitting the town with missiles from an extreme range, to luring the enemy into an ambush, and everything in between.
Even the most farfetched and risky of the ideas had their merits, if for no other reason than because they helped better cement in people's minds just what the enemy could be capable of, and what precautions they'd need to take. But ultimately Lewis's first suggested target, the one even those unwilling to fully commit to joining the attack themselves agreed on, was a lot closer to home.
Or more specifically, home itself.
Like he'd feared from the beginning, the enemy had eventually discovered the buried shelter. Once they did they must've immediately seen its benefits as a secure staging post, which they could use to coordinate scouting the town along the north and west sides.
To accomplish that task they'd moved several squads into the buried shed, the shipping container, and the two roughly built houses. Those squads had access to eight vehicles, at least two of which were always out on patrol while the others were parked between the two hills ready to roll out at a moment's notice.
Unsurprisingly, even though the shelter-turned-outpost was within the enemy's patrol boundaries it was still heavily guarded, which would make it a challenge. But at the same time Lewis, Jane, and several of the others considering the attack knew that area like the backs of their hands, and had plenty of experience moving unseen through the terrain.
It also helped that the shelter had the secret escape tunnel. Lewis seriously doubted the blockheads knew about it, and it provided an exploitable route past the perimeter. With a bit of guile and a lot of daring, it might let them pull off an attack that would be as good for them as it was bad for the enemy.
He and his wife had carefully observed the routine of the scout patrols and lookouts at the shelter for the last two days, ever since the blockheads set up their outpost. They were confident they had the timing about as good as possible, and luckily the Gold Bloc soldiers seemed to have a reliable way of keeping time and held to a disciplined schedule, which helped.
Knowing the routine, combined with scavenging the few intact uniforms from the scouts he'd taken out in the canyon, provided the beginnings of a plan that he was confident would work. Or, even if something went wrong and it failed, would give those who joined him in the attack multiple ways to escape or evade danger.
Which he assumed was why, when he announced he was going and asked who'd be willing to come with him and Jane, the response was better than it could've been. His dad agreed, and surprisingly so did Uncle George, even though he looked reluctant. Tam and Carl volunteered next, the couple insisting that they were only taking the risk because the plan seemed solid.
Martin Colton and Travis Marsh were also unexpected additions, since the two defenders had mostly seemed interested in listening in on the brainstorming. And even more unexpectedly they talked several of their fellow defenders into coming along. Lewis didn't know any of them too well, since aside from Martin they'd all been defending the town or riding in the trucks during the last attack on the raider camp.
There were also volunteers he had to turn down. Wes and Alvin were too young, and Mary probably was as well, not to mention she just didn't know how to handle a weapon. Lewis also had his doubts about whether his gentle sister was cut out for the task, even if she seemed determined.
Especially considering what the plan demanded of them.
All in all Lewis had accepted thirteen people's offer to come, which made fourteen total including him. For his plan that was enough. More than enough, probably, since each extra person increased the risk of discovery.
He'd spent the previous day filling them in on the details, and making sure they were cut out for sneaking through enemy territory in the dark with night vision gear. A few weren't as stealthy as he would've liked, but he hoped that if they did a good job following the movements of the people ahead of them it would turn out all right.
It would have to b
e, since they'd planned the attack for early the next morning and were out of time.
Lewis was the first one ready in the shelter group's camp that afternoon. Even Jane was still in their tent, making a few final adjustments to her gear to be sure she could move silently. Normally he'd be with her, but she was in one of her moods where she liked to be alone so he was giving her space. He wanted her to be as relaxed as possible before they all put their lives in danger.
Instead he had Alvin for company as he waited by the edge of their camp. The young man was hanging out waiting too, completely failing to hide the fact that he was hoping Lewis would change his mind and invite him along at the last minute. He'd even brought a pack with all his gear.
Not this time, though. If Matt wasn't about to bring kids to defend canyons, which was perfectly reasonable, Lewis was even less likely to bring one on an attack against the blockheads below. Even bringing Wes to attack the scouts in the canyon a few days ago had been a bit much, although the young man's role in it had been a reasonably safe one.
Lewis wasn't in the mood for conversation, and Alvin was obviously keeping quiet so he wouldn't annoy him, so the time passed in tense silence. In that silence the droning of a bee idling its way from flower to flower nearby caught his attention. Lewis watched it, finding the sound oddly relaxing, as it came closer until it landed on a flower right next to Alvin.
His friend stomped on it.
“Hey!” Lewis protested. “That's probably one of ours.” With Aunt Clair's help he'd relocated the new hive to a spot near the wooded slope to the west, a few hundred yards down the meadow from the refuge.
The young man gave him an embarrassed look. “Right, sorry. Nobody likes a buzzkill.”
Lewis bit back a sigh, giving no other response to the bad pun as he looked back towards his tent. Which Jane would hopefully emerge from soon. He wasn't in the mood for banter, and honestly he kind of regretted the fact that he was the first one ready, forced to spend this tense time waiting for the others.
That wasn't helped by worrying about Uncle George, trying to figure out why he'd insisted on coming along. Admittedly Lewis wasn't sure his dad, who'd also volunteered, was any more qualified than his uncle. But George Smith had never struck him as very aggressive, and even if he was dead serious about defending his family and the town Lewis wasn't sure it would be enough.
Then again, volunteers weren't exactly lining up at the door. If nothing else he trusted his uncle completely. He'd do his best.
“Sorry,” Alvin said again, after his joke falling flat had stretched into an awkward silence.
Lewis turned to his friend, catching his miserable expression, and put a hand on his shoulder. “You've got an important job to do here,” he said quietly. “I trust the townspeople, and the defenders will look after our family. Even so, at the moment it's just you, Terry, April, and Ed to really guard our camp. Desperation can sometimes make the best people do bad things, and we have a lot of stuff that would tempt people.”
The young man nodded, straightening slightly. “Don't worry. Nobody's touching our food, and I'll keep everyone safe.” As he spoke his eyes drifted over to one side of the camp.
He might've been looking at the part of camp where Jane's group was starting on the evening's chores, which would make sense since he was a member of that group. But it didn't escape Lewis that the tent where Trev's family slept was also in that direction. The young man had been showing a lot of interest in Linda, although as far as he knew his cousin hadn't returned any of it.
A more easy silence settled between them. Not too long after that Jane emerged backing out the entrance to their tent, wearing her captured blockhead uniform and usual body armor and other gear. She was dragging her pack and rifle, a G3 variant with a similar design to Lewis's own HK G3, in either hand.
As she shrugged her pack onto her shoulders she turned towards them, and he saw she was wearing her familiar focused expression. The look that said she would keep going towards her goal until she reached it, without letting herself be slowed or sidetracked. He trusted her ability and determination without question, and that focus was a major part of it.
She also looked very appealing when she wore that expression, although admittedly as a besotted husband he would've found her cute snoring with her mouth open, drool trickling down her chin, and serious bed head. Still, that look represented some of the things he loved most about the remarkable woman who'd agreed to become his wife, and he always felt a fierce surge of affection when he saw her wearing it.
Lewis clapped Alvin on the shoulder and picked up his gear, making his way over to Jane. She gave him a nod of thanks as he helped her adjust the pack's belts for a more comfortable fit. “How are you feeling about this?” he asked.
That earned him a slightly impatient look. They'd gone over the details time and again by this point. “It's risky, but it's a good plan. We can hit them hard.”
That hadn't quite been what he meant. “What about what we'll be doing to get the job done?”
Jane hesitated, then leaned against him and rested her cheek against his. “I can handle it. It needs to be done.”
Lewis supposed that was that. He wrapped his arms awkwardly around her and all her gear, and together they waited until his dad and uncle came from their respective tents.
Along with the rest of the family, at which point they had to endure a sending off from everyone.
Endure probably wasn't a generous way to put it, when he could tell his family was worried for them. But looking at the faces of his mom, aunt, and Linda he could see they thought this was a mistake.
He returned the hugs and kisses, ruffled Jim's hair and got his promise to mind the animals while they were gone, then turned and led the way to the edge of the refuge camp.
Catherine was waiting with the other volunteers when they arrived, and before they joined the group she came forward to shake all their hands. “I've still got my doubts about this raid,” she said solemnly. “But if you're going to go I wanted to wish you Godspeed. Be careful, and if things look like they're going wrong don't be afraid to call it off and come home.”
Lewis returned her firm grip. “We've prepared as well as we could, so things should turn out okay. But even so we won't take any unnecessary risks.”
She nodded firmly. “Take care of my daughter and her husband,” she said in a low voice, nodding at Tam and Carl. “Bring them home safely.” She went on to shake Jane's hand, and then his dad's and Uncle George's, giving them each their own quiet words of caution and encouragement. Then the Mayor went over to give her daughter and son-in-law one last hug.
Once she stepped back Lewis nodded to her, then turned to his volunteers. “Anyone need anything before we go?” Aside from a few shrugs there was no response. “All right then, let's go.”
He turned to start east with Jane walking next to him, and everyone fell in around them.
They used the same path he and Jane had taken to get down into the valley, reaching the cliff with plenty of time before the sun set behind them. Jane went first, clambering down using the rope and harness they set up and reaching the bottom in no time flat. Once down she tossed the harness up for the next person, and one by one the others rappelled down as she kept watch, while Lewis did the same from up above.
If they were seen the plan was off right then and there, and they probably wouldn't be able to use this path again. They couldn't afford to be spotted.
Uncle George stood beside him, waving off other people's offers for him to go down next. Before too long they were the only people left, and Lewis motioned for him to go. His uncle still hesitated. “I used to rock climb a lot when I was your age,” he said out of the blue. “Pretty gnarly cliffs, too.”
Lewis nodded. He knew all about that since George had talked about it plenty of times at family gatherings, and they'd even gone to indoor rock climbing places when he and Trev were younger so they could try out climbing themselves. “This is a piece of cake.”
His uncle sighed. “Yeah, it should be. I've free climbed cliffs twice this hard before.” He reluctantly began putting on the harness Martin threw up to him. “It sucks getting old, bud.”
It was hard to tell for sure, but Lewis had the feeling the cliff wasn't what George was really having trouble with. “Are you going to be okay doing this?” he asked quietly. “You can always stay behind and cover our backs.”
The older man paused, giving him a serious look. “I'm fine,” he said just as quietly, sounding determined. “I'll admit I don't like the thought of what you're going to have to do to clear the shelter, but it has to be done. And I'm a bit ashamed to say I don't mind being one of the ones waiting in the tunnel until you're done.” He hesitated. “Unless you need me, of course,” he offered reluctantly.
Lewis shook his head. “A few people is probably best.”
“Yeah.” George gave him a concerned look. “It's probably not my place to ask, but will you be able to do it when the time comes?”
This wasn't his favorite topic of conversation, and he could've done without the question. “It's not much different from when I took out the scouts in the canyon. And it helps to know what the enemy's been doing out there. Whatever their grief and rage at their countries being obliterated in the Retaliation, they've lost any moral high ground when they're murdering innocent people in cold blood.”
His uncle nodded dubiously and finished the last few buckles, reaching for the rope to clip the carabiner on. Lewis watched him descend, battling his own doubts about his response. What they'd be doing in the raid tonight wasn't much different in the end result, maybe, but worlds apart in what it would take to get the job done.
He wasn't looking forward to it, and not just because of the risk involved.
