by Nathan Jones
Where was Sam? He knew there were people he should be more immediately concerned about, especially his people stationed east of town who'd failed to report in, and he also knew that he couldn't afford to be distracted at the moment. Even so, his frantic thoughts had settled immediately on his wife the moment he heard shots fired.
Were she and their child okay? He was sure she'd be at home, hopefully with the rest of his family, or at worst with Terry in the clinic at town hall. Both locations were near the center of town, about as safe as his loved ones could be, and that knowledge and his duty to the town were all that kept him from rushing straight to Sam to protect her and leaving everyone else to their own devices.
Although from the sound of gunfire what seemed only a few streets away he had strong doubts that even the center of town would be safe. It looked as if the raiders had abandoned their trucks to sneak in past Aspen Hill's defenses, but how had they managed to get so far without being spotted?
“Everyone at Roadblock 2 is dying!” a woman's voice said frantically over the radio. Was that Alice Thornton? She'd been on duty at the roadblock this morning. “They snuck in close and they've got a big gun on a tripod with them!”
That would be the raiders' .50 caliber machine gun that wasn't mounted on the truck. Blast, he should've seen this coming; drawing defenders to one location and then attacking at another was the oldest trick in the book. “I need anyone with a gun who isn't doing anything to head to the east side of town!” he snapped into the radio. “Gutierrez, where's your group?”
The soldier was leading twenty of their standby defenders to the gardens, exactly where they didn't need to be right now. “We're all the way over at the south end of town,” Gutierrez replied, punctuating the answer with a heartfelt curse in Spanish. “We'll make our way to the roadblock along 300 East.”
The screams weren't all coming from one location, and Matt drew the obvious conclusion. “Is there anyone east of town who has the slightest idea what's going on?” he asked. “It sounds like the raiders have managed to sneak past our sentries!”
Almost immediately a voice answered. “No idea what's going on, Matt,” Ben, unofficial leader of the town's refugee population, replied. “But I'm holed up in a house with a group of women who'd been heading south to wash clothes downstream from the gardens. Raiders opened fire on us without warning, killing three of us and wounding several more. Once we were safely in the house they left one person to pin us in and sent the rest on into town.” The refugee leader went on to give the address of the house he was trapped inside.
Matt felt physically sick at the news. The location was way on the southeast end of town, not far from Roadblock 3. Which meant that raiders were attacking all along the east side of town from Roadblock 2 south. Maybe even north of the roadblock and nobody had managed to report in about groups attacking up there yet.
“Gutierrez, can you get there to help Ben's people and reinforce Roadblock 3?” Matt asked. “I'm heading to Roadblock 2.”
“Gotcha. That's only a few streets over. We'll head down 500 South instead.”
Matt skidded to a halt at the corner of Center and Main. Center led to Highway 6, and four blocks from where Matt stood Roadblock 2 had been set up. In the distance he could see unmoving bodies at the roadblock and two men setting up a heavy gun on a tripod atop one of the cars pulled across the street.
More importantly, four men in uniforms and body armor were making their way up Center directly towards the heart of town, checking houses and side streets as they went. As Matt watched one of the raiders lifted his gun and fired towards a house, the shot quickly followed by a scream.
Gritting his teeth, Matt ducked back around the corner of town hall and lifted his radio, hoping he hadn't been seen. “I see four raiders coming up Center and two mounting a .50 cal on top of Roadblock 2 to fire into town.”
As he was talking the front doors of town hall burst open behind him and half a dozen men scrambled down the stairs, led by Mayor Tillman. The woman looked exhausted and grief-stricken, and the reason why was fairly clear. With her was Pete Childress, and if Matt had to guess Catherine had just finished telling the young man that his father was dead.
Matt hurried over to them. “Sam?” he demanded.
The Mayor shook her head. “It's just Terry and April in there prepping for incoming wounded.” In spite of the urgency of the situation her expression softened. “I'm sure she's safe at home.”
He desperately hoped so, but he didn't have time to dwell on it now. “You heard my call in about the raiders coming up Center?” The Mayor and most of the men with her nodded. “Okay. Get back inside and set up a firing line along the windows overlooking Center. I'll shoot at them around the corner and get them coming our way.”
“Matt, Roadblock 1 is under attack!” he heard Rob Jonas shout desperately over the radio.
Before he could answer Catherine caught his eye. “I'll sort things out with our defenses,” she told him. “You focus on the raiders headed right for us.” Matt nodded, waving for Pete and the others to head back inside. They hurried to comply, and as they went Matt ducked down to grab one of the dozen Molotov cocktails from the box outside the door, then returned to his spot at the corner of the building.
He could only hope the Mayor and her defenders were quick finding good windows to shoot from. Otherwise he was going to be in a lot of trouble.
He gave them as much time as he could for them to get in place, listening at the corner of the building as orders barked by the approaching raiders and sporadic bursts of automatic fire came down the street. When he was certain they couldn't be more than two blocks away he dropped into a crouch and leaned around the corner, lifting his AR-15 and sighting down the scope at the nearest man.
They saw him almost immediately, and Matt had to control his panic as four weapons swung his way while he lined up a shot just above his target's crotch. The raiders all had their heads down as they aimed along their M16s or M1As, the plexiglass visors of their helmets covering their exposed throats. That meant his best hope for a hit was on the shoulder or arm, the hip or leg, or along the lower abdomen below their flak jackets. Of those the shot that would do the most potential damage was the lower abdomen.
He fired first and immediately jerked back behind cover, not even waiting to see if he'd hit anything. A fraction of a second later gunfire in controlled bursts broke out around the corner and ricochets and chips sprayed past him as the brick there was hit by numerous bullets.
At almost the same time more shots rang out from slightly above as Catherine's defenders opened fire from town hall's windows, prompting shouts of pain and alarm from the raiders. Matt took that as his cue to light the Molotov cocktail, and without even looking chucked it sidearm around the corner in the direction he'd last seen the raiders.
He heard the crash of glass breaking, followed almost immediately by the whoosh of the gas inside igniting into a fireball. Even in broad daylight the area was brightened by flickering flames and a wash of heat lapped around the corner at him, and the alarmed shouts became screams. Moments later Matt jumped in surprise as his Molotov explosion was joined by others as the defenders inside town hall threw their own.
Moments later the gunfire ceased and he heard Catherine shout the all clear. Matt cautiously peeked around the corner to see three puddles of flame from the remaining burning gas, as well as two burning bodies sprawled across the road while two other scorched and possibly wounded raiders bolted for the safety of their people at Roadblock 2. In spite of their full retreat they were still careful to make use of any cover available to stay out of sight of the defenders behind them.
As he watched them run, unable to find a shot, a stray breeze carried the smell of burning synthetic fibers and flesh to his nostrils and Matt had to physically fight the urge to gag. Just for good measure he fired a few rounds in the direction of the fleeing raiders to keep them running.
Up the street at the roadblock he saw a flash of mo
tion, and guided almost purely by instinct he threw himself back behind cover. Moments later the staccato roar of the .50 cal mounted atop the car started up, covering the escape of the fleeing raiders.
He saw a line of holes appear in the front of the small store across the street from town hall marching in his direction, the windows in its path shattering almost as soon as the first bullets touched them. Soon afterwards sparks flew from the brick and mortar not inches from his face.
Matt fell backwards, feeling a sick knot of horror in his gut. If he'd been too slow that line of bullets could've sliced him in half as he gaped at the carnage of his ambush. Even though the sturdy old building between him and the large machine gun was more than thick enough to protect him, he still found himself pushing himself backwards on his hands and feet. He kept going until he reached the front steps to town hall, looking around dazedly at an abandoned street with nobody to be seen.
Where was everyone? The town had hundreds of defenders that should've been ready in a situation like this. Of course of those people dozens would be out on patrols or in sentry positions, and dozens more who'd been up in the night defending the town would be asleep. The rest would be in their houses on standby, ready to rush where they were needed as soon as a warning came.
Only there'd been no warning. The patrols on the eastern border hadn't reported in and neither had the sentries, and the raiders had been attacking in the streets and along the roadblocks before anyone even guessed they were there.
As if in answer to his thoughts a flicker of motion caught his eye, and Matt felt a surge of relief as he looked down Main and saw Chauncey coming from the direction of the abandoned town storehouse leading twenty or so men. The retired teacher saw him at the same time and waved, lifting his radio to cut off the stream of chatter from half a dozen voices speaking at once from all over the town. “Center's a shooting gallery, huh?”
Matt was raising his own radio to answer when the storm of bullets finally cut off as the raiders there realized there were no targets to shoot at. Matt wasn't stupid enough to poke his head out to see what they were up to, though. He finished bringing the radio to his mouth. “I don't know if you heard in the chaos. Up to four men at the roadblock with their portable .50 cal and tripod.”
“I'll handle it.” Chauncey paused and began calling orders to his men. Soon after half joined him heading up a side street in the direction of the occupied roadblock, while the others kept going until they were across the intersection from Matt, huddled behind the building there just out of sight of the roadblock.
Matt was glad the older man had thought to send some people his way, because Roadblock 2 wasn't the only fire they had to put out. He motioned to Rick at the front of the remaining group and raised his voice. “I'm headed for Roadblock 1! Find a safe way around Center and catch up with me!”
The younger man nodded and the group turned and started back up the street at a trot towards 100 South, which they hopefully wouldn't have to follow too far west before finding a way across Center that was out of line of sight of that deadly emplacement. Matt wished them the best as he turned and broke into a run back the way he'd come.
He was halfway there when Gutierrez reported in. “Matt, the raiders ambushed us! I've lost two men and we're pinned down.”
Matt slowed to a stop, feeling his face paling. Gutierrez's standby defenders made up a large bulk of the town's forces, and they needed those people in the fight. “How?”
“No idea. Thanks to Ben we knew exactly where they were and they should've had no idea we were even coming, but they shot at us from hiding as we came around a blind corner. There was no way they could've set that up.” The soldier muttered a hasty staccato of words in Spanish that was probably more cursing. “It's like one of the nightmare urban invasion scenarios my drill instructor put us through in training. The one where everything's deliberately stacked against us.”
Rick and his people abruptly burst around the corner ahead, having made surprisingly good time while Matt stood standing in the middle of the street like an idiot. He hurried to catch up to them, noticing that the younger man and a few others were raising rifle scopes or binoculars to look ahead at Roadblock 1.
Matt mimicked their example, lifting his own rifle mid run to peer through the scope and get a better look at the hellish scene. As he'd feared, the raiders had caught the defenders at Roadblock 1 by surprise and were attacking from all sides. The desperate townspeople, with no other options, had found crude shelter between the cars and the piles of debris Matt had stacked there the first day in case Ferris tried to simply smash through the roadblock with one of his heavy trucks.
It wasn't good cover and they could barely poke their heads out, which meant their only means of defense without exposing themselves was to lob Molotov cocktails at the places where the enemy was shooting at them. But although the firebombs were doing their job and keeping most of the attackers at bay for short periods of time, the panicked defenders didn't have either the coordination or the courage to use that opening to counterattack or try to flee to better cover.
Matt sighted on the back of a raider who was leaning around the corner of a building ahead and to his right, an ideal target since all the heavily armed and armored man's attention was on the roadblock. He was too far away to be confident of his aim, but he still paused in his running to line up the shot. Following his example a few of his men also raised their weapons. Most of them would have an even worse chance than him of hitting anything at this range, since only a couple had rifles with scopes.
“On my mark,” he said to coordinate a volley, so no one would shoot early and spook the raiders the others were shooting at. Once he was confident he had his shot he waited a few more moments, as the raider leaned farther out, then slowly let out his breath. “Fire.”
Five other men fired with him, at the raider Matt was aiming at and a couple others in view. His went down and the others fled back behind cover, and Matt took the opportunity to bolt down the street again, calling for a few men to circle around to the streets on either side and surround the raiders.
He was nearly to the alley the downed raider had been hiding in when Lewis abruptly spoke over the radio. “All right, Matt, I think you've held them there long enough. My people are in place to attack the camps on your order.”
Matt froze, staring down at his radio in shock. What? Aspen Hill's defenders didn't have any people in place to attack the raider camps. Caught by surprise like this they were barely managing to muster enough people to protect the town! Was Lewis insane?
Or was he once again thinking rationally while Matt ran around like a chicken with his head cut off, same as when his friend had suggested Matt get a report from all the sentries and patrols? Matt lifted his radio. “Yeah, we've got most of them busy here so you should have an easy time. Take them out.”
He had some idea of what Lewis was thinking, and the ramifications were unpleasant, but for the moment he focused on getting his people in place to break the attack on the roadblock.
After his first volley had caught them by surprise the raiders hadn't reappeared, which was probably smart because it would be impossible to target Matt's group without putting their backs to the defenders at the roadblock, and they couldn't go back to shooting at those people without getting shot in the back by Matt's defenders again.
Matt paused near the raider he'd shot to peer cautiously down the alley. There was no sight of the man's friends. A moment later he heard a low whistle, then the men he'd sent around the buildings to the left reported in that the raiders were gone. Not too long after that the group to the right reported the same.
Over the next five minutes he got word from Gutierrez, Ben, Chauncey, and a few other scattered defenders that the raiders who'd been attacking them had all vanished as well. Matt sent teams out to secure the eastern border and check on the missing patrols and sentry posts, while making sure that everyone guarding the other borders of the town were still in place and aler
t.
Once that was done he addressed the most pressing issue. “Good catch, Lewis,” he said over the radio. “We've been talking openly on these channels since Ferris and his convoy got here.”
Gutierrez swore in response, in English this time. “I can't believe I didn't think of that. The raiders have radio equipment with them, fancy stuff that can not only pick up frequencies in use nearby but even do basic encrypting and decrypting. No wonder my group got ambushed. I told them exactly what route we were taking.”
That was a huge problem. It meant the raiders could not only overhear every word the defenders said over the radio, but they could also talk to each other freely without being overheard. If they had encryption that meant they could even shift things up if one of their radios got captured, so the defenders wouldn't be able to spy on them.
Total control over all radio communications. As if the raiders didn't have enough going for them.
Mayor Tillman abruptly came on the air. “I'll second Matt. Good catch, Lewis, and well done bluffing the raiders with that ruse about attacking their camps.” Her voice abruptly became sharp. “Listen up, people. From this point on we go to complete radio silence except in emergencies. I'll have Chauncey and a few other people get to work on a list of code phrases we can use. We've been way too careless up to this point and the enemy's taken advantage of it.”
Matt stared at the buildings around him that had been scorched by Molotovs, one of which was still burning as a few men worked to put it out, and at the body of the defender his group had taken out.
The raiders had set up a one-two punch here, and he'd walked right into it by sending Gutierrez's group rushing to the gardens. It was hard to say how many people had died in this attack, but without Lewis they might have lost the entire town to it.
Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. Matt might as well have gone right to the raiders' camp and personally told them all the town's plans. By using the radios to talk about everything they were doing he'd let the enemy set up this attack on their own time and plan their strategies, knowing exactly how the town's defenders would respond at any point.
