Praying for War: The Collin War Chronicles

by W. C. Hoffman

  The torches began an odd and fast pattern. It took a few moments to realize what was happening. The Vipers were not running, they were mounted.

  “Cavalry,” Collin said to himself. “They have a damn cavalry.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Doctor Julie Horner stood at the bottom of the stairs when Collin yelled for Koby. She knew what was happening.

  Some sort of attack was happening, which is why the soldier came looking for Collin. For her, the timing worked out perfectly. She was the only council member in the basement. Collin was busy at the bridge and Koby was upstairs, making for the church bell to alert the town.

  Julie ran in place for a moment, and then bolted into the hallway.

  “Get up there, now!” she shouted at the two guards. Julie raised her hands above her head to catch her breath. “Come on, go! We’re under attack.”

  The guards exchanged glances. They shifted a little, but didn’t move.

  “Ma’am-”

  “Don’t ma’am me. I work for a living.”

  “Um, right. Dr. Horner, we’re on orders from General War to guard the prisoner and make sure he doesn’t escape,” the shorter one said.

  For a second, Julie couldn’t remember his name. Then it came to her in a flash. She put on her “mom face” and called them out by name.

  “Richard Allen Cruz, Paul Oliver Edwards, I have known you both since you were six years old. Do you really think I would free this man? Don’t be foolish. Goshen needs you. General War needs you. Go help your fellow Eagles,” she said, the urgency in her voice seemed to stir them both. But they hadn’t quite decided to move yet. She needed them to leave.

  “General War asked me to come down here and tell you his orders. He wants you up there to help him.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulders and scowled at them. “He’s probably waiting for you at the bridge, right now. Move your ass!”

  “Okay. Are you sure?” the short one called Richard asked. They both still seemed reluctant.

  “Look, I’m not the one doing any fighting. And I’m not your direct commander, but he asked me to relay the order to you,” she said with a shrug. “Goshen needs your help. Don’t let us down. Hurry.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

  “He’s in a cell. I’m out here. No one is going to come to the church because you guys will be out there fighting off the enemy,” she said, sliding over an empty chair. “I’ll just sit here and wait for you two to come back.”

  The taller one looked at his partner and nodded. “Let’s go. Be careful, Dr. Horner.”

  “Eagles strike.”

  “Vipers die,” the two Eagles said with smiles. They dashed down the hallway and jogged up the stairs.

  Julie turned to face the cell door. She hadn’t seen the pastor for some time now. This would be the first time since finding out that he was the one who murdered her baby.

  She took a deep breath and pulled out the bunch of keys from her pocket that she’d lifted from Collin when they hugged outside. Julie felt a rush of excitement at her ruse. She felt like a rebellious teenager again. Except she wasn’t. This was life: real, hard, and unforgiving.

  Julie unlocked the door and pulled it open. She put the keys back in her pocket and palmed a small object.

  Pastor Pendell was kneeling on the ground, praying. His back was to her.

  “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” he said.

  It was the last thing she heard him say before three small bangs cracked in the air. She lowered her small .22 caliber pistol and stepped inside the cell.

  Julie shot Pastor Pendell in the back, three times. She was happy that all of her shots hit him. She stole a look down the hallway, worried that someone may have entered the basement. But it was all clear.

  Blood welled up from the holes and he toppled onto his side. He groaned in pain, clutching his chest and curled into a ball. Underneath him, blood pooled up and spread out on the smooth concrete.

  Julie walked up to him and looked down at her handiwork. He turned his head and looked at her. His face contorted in pain and a ribbon of blood leaked out of the side of his mouth. She noticed he didn’t have exit wounds and smiled.

  “Good,” she said softly. “The bullets stayed inside. You know .22 caliber rounds just tumble around inside, ripping through tissue and organs. Just the kind of suffering you deserve.”

  Pendell’s mouth opened slowly. A blood bubble filled his mouth, but no words came out. When his mouth started to close, the bubble popped and left a splatter of blood on his lips. Their eyes met, his filled with pain, hers filled with a mother’s fury. Julie felt no compassion for him or regret for her actions.

  “I’m...I’m...s-” he sputtered and specks of blood covered his face and neck.

  “Don’t even say it,” she said, with a wave of her hand. “I have no patience for your lies anymore.”

  She pulled a syringe from another pocket. Instead of the red serum that she’d shown to Collin, this one was the green serum that Pendell had ordered her to give to Doris. The treatment that had caused her so much pain and torment in her final moments in this world.

  Pendell saw what it was. When realization dawned on his face, he tried to pull himself away from her, but he was too weak.

  Julie held up the syringe and slowly uncapped it.

  “Do you remember her screams? The way her body convulsed?” she asked, rage dripped from her words like venom.

  “I’m...sorry...” he gasped. His eyes were wide, panicked.

  “Not as sorry as you’ll be when you’re burning in hell,” Julie said. With that, she stuck him in the shoulder with the needle and emptied the contents into his body.

  She dropped the syringe and crouched on the ground to watch him suffer. Her observation was very clinical. As a doctor, she was familiar with pain, suffering, and death. Especially since the fever outbreak all those years ago, she became almost numb to death.

  Doris had cracked her armor and the death of Anna had disintegrated it. The pain she felt now ached in the marrow of her bones. It was a visceral pain, emanating from the center of her soul and burning through every cell of her body.

  Pendell arched his back and began to shake in far less time than it took Doris. Julie wondered if it had to do with the loss of blood. If there was less blood volume to deal with, did that mean the effects hit faster? She wasn’t sure.

  His spasms grew in strength, forcing Julie to stand up and move back. She walked backward to the door. Her eyes never left Pendell’s body; she didn’t want to miss a single moment of his suffering. For her, his actions would cause a lifetime of pain. It felt unfair that his suffering would be over so quick.

  Pendell groaned and spasmed, twitching on the floor. Even through the battle raging inside him, Pendell spotted Julie and crawled toward her as best as he could. Amazingly, he made it to one knee, which made Julie think she may have to shoot him again. Convulsions struck and he vomited blood onto the floor.

  He tipped over sideways, slow motion almost. When he hit the floor, he was gone.

  Pastor Pendell was no more.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Personnel ran in every direction as Collin issued orders for the defense of Goshen.

  One of the sergeants was rallying the civilians and putting them into some semblance of a formation so he could address them. Collin had seriously underestimated the firepower that the civilians had in their personal arsenals. As a group, they were nearly as well armed as the Eagles and some of them were better equipped.

  God bless the Second Amendment, he thought.

  The Vipers halted their advance out in the fields. They were presumably setting up some kind of fighting positions. Collin dispatched the remaining sniper teams and told them to watch for his signal, but that if they saw any kind of armored contraptions like last time, they were free to fire as they saw fit. All of the Eagle’s Nests were full; a team lay atop the wall that crossed over the bridge. They didn’t have any cove
r but lying down they made a small target and the two Eagles had asked to be stationed there. Collin reluctantly agreed. He already had three sniper teams on the dam. That was more than enough.

  Hunters and the outdoorsmen augmented the Eagles on the front lines. There were two large sandbagged fighting positions on the far side of the bridge. They also had sandbagged and fortified fighting positions in town, just in case the wall or the bridge was breached.

  His plan called for half of the civilians to be split into groups to secure choke points in town and slow any Viper advance. The other half would wait in the woods, to be called down in a flanking maneuver if things got real tough. Collin hoped, and almost prayed, that it wouldn’t come to that.

  The church bell stopped ringing anew although its echoes could be heard rebounding through the valley.

  “Sir, all of the fixed fighting positions are manned and ready,” SGT O’Bannon said. He was a short, serious man with a sharp nose and a quick wit.

  “Thank you, Sergeant. Carry on.”

  What the Eagles of Goshen lacked in manpower, they more than made up for in firepower, training, and defenses. If the Vipers had suddenly upgraded to firearms instead of attacking with bows and arrows, Goshen wouldn’t stand a chance. As things stood, Collin was confident of their ability to defend themselves and in fact, crush the Vipers. It was as close to a fair fight as they could hope for.

  Collin stood in front of the bridge, on the town side of the river. He watched the Vipers and tried to decode their movements. He didn’t want to be overly focused on this display in case it was a diversion. So, he’d ordered hunters to take up watch along the flanks. He sent a pair of woodsmen to the dam to watch the mountainsides in case the Vipers had morphed into mountain goats. He gave the woodsmen instructions to also keep an eye on the lake behind the dam for anyone crossing.

  Koby appeared beside Collin, pulling him from his thoughts.

  “This looks bad,” Koby said, obviously impressed by the display before them.

  “Honestly, it’s shit tactics. Why would you announce your presence so far in advance of an attack?” Collin said, crossing his arms. “It makes me wonder what they’re really up to. They seem smart enough, but this is not smart.” He pointed at the hundreds of torches lighting up the forest.

  He sighed.

  “Is it rigged?” he asked, waving at the bridge.

  “You know it. I placed the C4 myself,” Koby said with a grin. He pulled out a radio and held it out before him, admiring it. “It’s all wired up. All you have to do when you’re ready is turn to channel sixty-nine, press call button and boom shakalaka.”

  Collin shot his friend a look. “Shaka- what?”

  “Boom. It goes boom,” Koby said, shaking his head in exasperation. “Channel 69, press the button, and boom. Has no one in this town ever watched basketball?”

  Collin chuckled and accepted the radio. He slid it into a pouch on his MOLLE vest, which he retrieved from his house, along with his personal rifle.

  “It had to be channel sixty-nine, didn’t it?” Collin smiled.

  “You know it,” Koby said again.

  The Vipers began to chant. It started low, nearly inaudible like the murmur of a peaceful stream. Their chant began to build up in volume, slowly, steadily like a storm.

  “That sounds ominous,” Collin said, frowning. He put a hand on Koby’s elbow and led him over to the fighting position near the right-hand corner of the bridge. They stood behind it and slightly to the side, still in the street that led to the bridge, but at least they weren’t smack dab in the middle of the bridge. No sense in making themselves easy targets if this was the launch of the attack.

  “You’re right,” Koby said. “But at least they don’t have drums.”

  Collin wasn’t entirely sure that drums would make it worse, but he couldn’t say for sure. Instead he continued watching the Vipers’ movement.

  The chant rose in volume and then peaked. It sounded like they said, “Make way” but it was hard to hear clearly. Whether it was or not, was irrelevant, because the torches parted neatly. Each side parted and widened, a seam ran through the crowd, until a dark, torch free path cut straight through their formation.

  “A rider,” Koby said.

  “I see it.” Collin brought his rifle up to the ready position and flicked the off the safety.

  Everyone waited to see what Collin would do. He hadn’t given the order to attack yet and it was clear that many of the Eagles wanted to strike hard at the enemy before they had a chance to hit first. It was tempting to unleash them on the Vipers, but he was concerned about the boy that looked so much like his son and what role he played in all this.

  Collin looked up at the Eagle’s Nest above the bridge. A soldier looked back at him, apparently waiting to see what he was going to do.

  “Three flares with an even spread,” he said.

  The soldier nodded and turned away. Mere seconds later, flares hissed through the air and popped open high above the farmland. Suddenly blanketed with light, the formation of Vipers looked slightly less disturbing. But it also brought into focus just how many Vipers there were.

  Atop a fine looking horse, sat a young man in his late twenties or early thirties. He had a beard, long curly hair and a white flag clenched in his hand, which he waved every few steps.

  He seemed to be looking directly at Collin. It was unnerving because Collin had never seen this man before so the stranger shouldn’t be able to pick him out of a crowd.

  “I think he’s here for you,” Koby said, nudging his arm.

  Collin moved his arm. “I can see that.” He stepped away from the fighting position.

  “Wait! Don’t go out there,” Koby said quickly. “I wasn’t suggesting that.”

  “I have to,” he said.

  “We’ve got you covered, sir,” said one of the Eagles.

  “I know you do. Thanks.” Collin took a deep breath and walked toward the bridge.

  He made his way to the center, and stood with his rifle at the ready, watching the horse rider approach. As the man neared, Collin noticed that he had a bow slung over his arm, a quiver of arrows over his shoulder, another quiver on the side of his saddle, and a sword, of all things, swaying with the movement of the horse.

  “Like Goddamned, Robin Hood over here. What’re we in the seventeenth century?” he muttered to himself. It was as if medieval times made a comeback. He shook his head in disbelief.

  Collin decided to move up to at least level with the other two fighting positions. Power projection was key here and he didn’t want to make Goshen look weak by staying back away from the action. He would face the horse rider on his own terms.

  When he reached the other side of the bridge, he checked out the two fighting positions and nodded at the men. They returned the gesture and looked back at the approaching rider.

  “We got your back, sir,” one of them said.

  “And I have yours, soldier.” He felt another surge of pride as he walked out to meet the rider. He was a little nervous, not for his safety but for the well-being of the town and the only friends he had left in this world.

  Keeping his rifle ready, Collin walked as casually as he could for another twenty yards into the field. The rider was maybe fifty yards from him. Shadows traversed his face under the shifting light of the flares floating toward the ground. It was inadequate light but it was all they had. He took in the sight of the man before him.

  “Halt right there,” Collin said, shouting to ensure the man heard him above the growl of the bonfires that still burned in the background. “Dismount and approach on foot.”

  The man on the horse pulled back on the reins and slid off the saddle. He thumped onto the ground and Collin half expected him to be wearing pieces of armor, but he wore a normal battle dress uniform, like the Army. He stood by his horse for a long moment. His eyes were darting over the scene behind Collin.

  He looked wild to Collin. If they sailed the open seas and came upon
an uncharted island and this guy emerged from the jungle, it would be less surprising than it was now. He didn’t appear to be carrying anything other than the bow and sword. Neither weapon was especially quick to draw and use. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and placed his hands over his belt buckle, close enough to his pistol to draw it at a moment’s notice.

  “Impressive defenses that you’ve built here,” the man said. His voice was low but still sounded young.

  Collin just stared at him.

  The man stepped forward, closing the distance between them. He didn’t look scared but like any smart predator, he was weary of a new adversary. They were both vulnerable, alone, and facing dozens of weapons aimed at them. The young man walked toward Collin with confidence.

  Collin didn’t move. He’d already made his move.

  The man was only ten yards away. Collin figured he would stop but the man kept walking, slowly. He narrowed his eyes at the man, but allowed him to continue.

  Five yards. Three yards. One yard.

  The man stopped just beyond arms reach.

  They watched each other for several long moments. Neither man moved or spoke.

  Collin searched the eyes of the man across from him for clues about his intentions, but they revealed nothing sinister. In fact, his eyes seemed to twinkle with curiosity, understanding and...joy? It didn’t fit. None of the pieces matched up at that moment.

  Out of his peripheral vision, Collin saw the torches the Vipers held. Behind him were the Eagles and citizens of Goshen. Yet before him stood a man that conflicted with the setting.

  “My name is General Collin War,” he said, his gaze never wavering. It felt funny to use the new title, one that the town had apparently bestowed upon him. “You are trespassing on the lands of Goshen. Turn back, leave this area, and never come back.”

  A wide grin spread underneath his beard and the man chuckled.

  “You are outgunned and as you said, our defenses are impressive.”

  “You mistake my laughter...General War,” said the man, wiping the corner of his eye. “There is no need to introduce yourself. I know you better than you could ever imagine.”