by Nathan Jones
“-FROM THE NORTH!” he heard Pete Childress screaming. There were other voices also screaming similar warnings, and Matt shouting over everyone for quiet on the radio and more orderly reports.
Jane abruptly gasped and dove for him, forcing them both to the ground as the flash of automatic weapons fire came from the approaching truck. Lewis landed awkwardly and did his best to help drag Jane towards the nearest cover, a section of low, crumbling stone fence, as bullets whined by overhead and all around them. He was grateful for the body armor they both wore, but only their torsos were protected so they had to get out of sight fast.
Once they'd managed to get behind the fence and Jane was once again firing on the passing truck, more cautiously now, Lewis lifted the radio and shouted over the din. “Halsson here along the western border. One truck headed for town with at least three gunmen and the driver inside.”
Chapter Six
Fire
Once he'd given his warning Lewis lifted his rifle to join Jane in shooting at the truck.
He quickly got a bead on one of the muzzle flashes, although following a moving target as it made almost straight for him was tricky. But before could get a shot off Jane abruptly made a strangled noise and slumped to the ground, her head hitting his hip heavily as she fell.
Lewis felt his heart stop for a moment as he heard the noise she was making, a horrible gurgle like she was choking on liquid and moaning at the same time. He dropped his weapon with a shout of grief and started to crouch over her, but then her arm shot up holding the goggles.
“Stop the truck,” she rasped, then began making the noise again. With a start he realized she wasn't choking, she was vomiting.
A gut shot? If that was true then the vest should've saved her from any real harm, although the force of impact would be like a solid kick to the stomach. Lewis didn't like the thought of her suffering, but that slight reassurance was enough for him to fumble on the goggles and focus on the approaching enemy.
He didn't go for his gun, though. Instead he reached into his backpack for the tarp-wrapped Molotov cocktail and removed the firebomb, grabbing the lighter stowed below the bundle as well.
The approaching truck had made it past their position and was continuing on towards town, swiftly growing farther away. Even more alarming, beyond the truck he saw a sudden plume of fire from inside the town and heard the roar of an explosion. Too big for a Molotov, and not the telltale fireball of igniting gasoline. A missile?
Lewis refused to let it distract him, although he did spend a long moment preparing the throw.
As a kid he'd never been much of a pitcher and his throwing distance and aim had both been terrible, but that was just because he'd never really spent much time doing it. Throwing was a skill just like any other. So when he'd realized the town would depend on Molotov cocktails for defense he'd spent long hours practicing throwing similarly weighted items to improve his range and accuracy.
Now he'd see if his efforts had paid off. He lit the gas-soaked cloth, flinching slightly from the light as much as the heat as it whumped into flame not far from his face, and took two steps to hurl it with all his strength.
The firebomb lobbed through the air, burning cloth making a fiery tail behind it, and smashed into the top of the olive green tarp tightly stretched across the truck's back to protect any soldiers inside from the elements and obscure them from view. Lewis didn't know if there were soldiers back there now, but if they were they were about to be very uncomfortable.
The jar exploded in the familiar fireball, spraying burning gasoline across the tarp roof and the hood of the truck, then sending fiery lines of liquid trickling down the front and sides as the vehicle caught fire. He heard screams of surprise and saw the truck veer to the right as the driver panicked.
That veer turned into a flip as Jane, on her knees and all pale face and gritted teeth, helped it along by shooting out the front left tire just as the driver swerved. Lewis heard the skidding noise of a heavy vehicle on dirt as the truck turned sideways, then a deafening crash as it flopped over onto its side, teetered for just a moment, then kept on rolling over onto its roof.
Everything went still after that aside from the slight pings and pops of cooling metal and the truck settling in its new position. Half exultant and half disbelieving, Lewis crouched down to pick up his gun and take aim on the driver's side door.
In just that brief amount of time a handful of raiders began pulling themselves out of the truck from all sides like rats fleeing a ship, coughing at the smoke and staggering around as they struggled to get their bearings. With their vehicle gone they might have decided to call off the attack and slunk away, but after the vicious thugs shot Jane Lewis wasn't about to let them vanish into the night to come back some other time.
He awkwardly sighted down his scope with the night vision goggles, aiming for the best target. Two shots brought the man down, although in the haze of smoke Lewis couldn't be sure he'd hit anything besides body armor.
The rest of the raiders snapped out of their daze pretty quick at the sound of gunfire and seeing one of their people drop. Unfortunately instead of running they scrambled for cover behind their upside down truck, and when they popped into sight again it was to aim for where Lewis and Jane were hiding and open fire.
Lewis cursed the situation as he dropped down, pushing on Jane's shoulder to make sure she was down below the lip of the wall as well. Of course the raiders knew exactly where they were from the earlier gunfire; he should've got Jane to different cover when they had the chance. Only he wasn't sure his hurt companion was in any condition to move.
Either way this had become a firefight, and like it or not they were trapped behind this short stretch of crumbling wall until something changed.
From the direction of town he heard a high pitched, unearthly wail. In lieu of the radios Catherine had dragged out the old air raid siren, and now it was shrieking its warning that the town was under attack.
* * * * *
“-going to cut off your fingers one by one and shove them down your thr-”
“-two trucks along the northern border driving parallel to our fortifications!”
“We're getting hit by missiles on the eastern border! They're blowing up hou-”
“Matt! Jane and I managed to bring down the truck outside town to the west, but they've got us pinned down not far north from where Center heads to Aspen Hill Canyon! We nee-”
The chaos over the radio continued, frantic defenders trying to shout over each other and the ugly verbal abuse Turner was heaping on them over the channel. The efforts to communicate were practically worthless, with any useful meaning hard to glean from the cacophony and only a few words here and there getting through.
Matt stumbled into the storehouse, mind still foggy with sleep and thankful again that his house was only a block away. “All right everyone, grab your weapons and Molotov cocktails!” he shouted. “This is what we've been expecting, a full attack with trucks. We need to get you all organized into groups and sent where you're needed!”
He was relieved to see that most of the defenders were already geared up and clumping together in the beginnings of groups. He kept talking anyway, hoping an authoritative voice would calm some of the tension in the air, most of it caused by the harsh wail of the air raid siren and the knowledge that the raiders looked to be throwing everything at the town.
“Remember, we've got all the roads blocked and the perimeter fortified so they won't have any easy way into town with vehicles. They'll either destroy their trucks trying to get in or they'll circle uselessly outside firing at the outlying buildings, which is what it looks like is happening on the northern border.”
He got to work getting the gathering groups set up under leaders and began ushering them out the door to reinforce different areas along the border. As they went he called out some final advice. “Remember, they've got night vision and missile launchers. Don't clump together, stay out of sight, take shots of opportun
ity, and don't set up anywhere you can be trapped if things go wrong.”
Gutierrez, who'd recently come in, added his own bit of advice as he led the group Matt had assigned him towards the door. “Also pick your targets carefully to save ammo and do the most damage! Hit the tires, hit the tarp over the back in case they're carrying troops, and try to shoot through any open windows. Throw Molotovs if you think you can hit anything. They probably won't call off the attack if we kill one or two of them, but if it looks like we're about to take out a truck those people at least are going to back off.”
To Matt's surprise the former soldier didn't lead his people out but instead intercepted Matt as he was getting his own group organized to head south. “Matt, did you hear Lewis's message?”
He nodded, and for the first time that night felt the beginnings of a genuine smile. “It looks like they managed to take out a truck.” He'd expected nothing less from his two friends.
Gutierrez didn't smile back. “Lewis said they're pinned down outside the fortifications engaged in a firefight with the raiders from the truck.”
He'd heard that too. “Right. I'm sending Chauncey and a team out to help them.”
The former soldier caught his arm. “They're outside, Matt. Where the other trucks can easily reach them. The raiders will be sending help to their side too.”
Matt felt his face pale as realization dawned. From the way Lewis had described it he'd assumed both sides were in a stalemate and nothing was going to change any time soon, giving them plenty of time to respond. But of course the enemy trucks didn't have to stay on the sides they were currently attacking, and any of them could easily break off and drive to that position in no time flat. If that happened the raiders would have no trouble getting behind Lewis and Jane's position.
His friends would be helpless.
“Change of plans,” he said, shaking free of Gutierrez's arm. “You, me, and your group are going after them. Tam, you've got lead of my group headed south to reinforce the gardens.”
As the auburn-haired woman nodded Matt bolted out of the storehouse with Gutierrez and a dozen other men hard on his heels. The other groups were running to get where they were needed, but Matt led his group in a flat out sprint west towards Aspen Hill Canyon.
He only hoped he got there in time.
* * * * *
“You okay?” Lewis asked Jane as he snapped off a quick shot around the side of the fence.
He didn't have time to aim since he was immediately forced to duck away from a storm of return fire, but he had to do something to keep the raiders pinned behind the truck. It had flipped over in a fairly open area, which meant they were just as trapped as he and Jane were.
For the moment.
The redheaded woman was doing her best to return fire as well, but she kept on hunching down around her stomach in pain, and even dry heaved a few more times. “Well I'm puking out everything I've eaten for the last three days and feeling like a horse just stepped on my stomach,” she mumbled through gritted teeth, giving up to slump for a moment against the low wall. “So no, not doing fantastic.”
Lewis crawled around her to a position farther down the wall, resting a hand on her shoulder as he passed. “Hang in there. Help will be here soon.”
She nodded, not quite doubtfully, and with some effort pulled herself over to the end of the wall where he'd just fired from, lining up her own quick shot without even looking. Thankfully the truck's tarp was still burning in a few places, giving her enough light to see the enemy even without the goggles. It evened things up since the raiders had their night vision.
And who knew, maybe he and Jane would get lucky and the truck would blow up and take the raiders with it, solving all their problems. They'd need that sort of luck, because in spite of his assurances he was well aware that the enemy had a much closer source of help. One that was also capable of getting to them a lot faster. Jane had to know it too, which explained the almost hopeless look on her face.
He risked a quick glance over the wall at the ruined truck, then in the quick moment bought by Jane's shot he lined up his own at an exposed knee poking out from beneath the fender that the raider probably didn't even realize was showing. Lewis had learned a painful lesson from a similar mistake last Halloween, and from the shout of pain and cursing that came after he snapped off his shot and ducked back down his target had just learned the same lesson.
In the lull that followed Jane leaned out from a new spot in cover and fired, then ducked down and glanced over at him, shaking her head. The raiders were all hunkering down for the moment.
Unless they were all idiots that was a very bad sign. Completely retreating behind cover gave him and Jane an opportunity to post up and be ready to shoot at the first enemy that showed himself. That was why he'd been so desperate to return fire even when he knew he wasn't hitting the broad side of a barn, to keep the pinned down raiders from all just leaning out and waiting for the perfect shot the next time one of them risked a look.
If the enemies were giving that advantage to him and Jane, it could only mean they knew there was no longer any need to risk themselves continuing the shootout because help was on the way. Lewis still leaned out for a good firing position in case of a shot of opportunity, but he also kept his ears pricked for the inevitable noise of an approaching engine.
It came less than thirty seconds later, from behind them to the north.
“I'll cover the flipped truck,” Jane said through gritted teeth, “go ahead and see what's coming our way.”
Lewis felt a surge of affection for the redheaded woman. That noise signaled the end for them, but she was still keeping a cool head and not giving up. He could only do the same, so he scooted to turn around below the cover of the fence and peered north through his scope.
As he'd feared, with his goggles he could see another raider truck coming fast on a dirt road that ran parallel to the town's fortifications about a hundred yards out. He could faintly see three men riding in the cab, as well as a couple more leaning out from the tarp in the back. All were well armed, and from the way the vehicle was making more or less directly for his and Jane's position the driver had to have been informed of exactly where they were taking cover.
His determination gave way to resigned despair as he watched the raider reinforcements get closer. There was no cover from the approaching truck behind the fence, and if they tried to run the raiders behind the flipped truck would start shooting at them the moment they popped into view.
They were pinned down with death only seconds away. There was nothing to do but shoot at the vehicle and hope they managed to get lucky. If nothing else they might deprive Turner of another of his trucks and make the town that much safer before they died.
Jane must've come to the same conclusion because she abandoned her shot over the wall, awkwardly shifting around to crouch beside him facing north. She began shooting low to the ground, trying to get a lucky shot off on the tires, which would've taken a miracle without night vision. Meanwhile Lewis focused on the windshield on the left side, hoping to weaken it enough that a shot would get through and hit the driver.
As he emptied his magazine he saw cracks appearing on the reinforced glass, as well as sparks on the hood and roof. Those were just the shots that hit anything, unfortunately; crouched low behind the fence and shooting at a moving target he was doing well connecting with every third shot. It wasn't going to be enough, but he kept shooting anyway.
Then agonizingly bright light flooded over him.
For almost a full second he went blind, his mind completely blank as he tried to cope with the sudden pain, while at his side Jane yelped. The raiders had turned on the truck's headlights, which thanks to the light amplification from the goggles made it even more intense for Lewis. Even the filters the night vision had been equipped with, to minimize bright lights so they'd still function in just this kind of situation, weren't enough to compensate.
Lewis hastily tore them off and squinted, trying
to make out the dark shape of the approaching truck beyond the headlights.
He heard the vehicle slow, and although he couldn't see anything beyond the headlights he was sure raiders were taking aim at them. He groped out blindly and found Jane's arm, gripping it tight as he prepared for death. It was a selfish comfort to have her there with him since she couldn't be somewhere safe, and he desperately wished he'd never let her start patrolling with him in the first place.
If he'd told her to go back that first night then she'd be somewhere else staying alive right now, and he'd be about to die here alone. That was something he could've lived with.
Gunfire broke out, making him flinch in spite of himself. But instead of feeling the pain of being hit the light in his eyes abruptly vanished, accompanied by the sharp sound of shattering glass. Lewis shoved his goggles back down to look at the truck, feeling almost lightheaded with relief at another moment to live.
The raiders in the cab were all hunkered behind the bulletproof glass, one hastily rolling up the window he'd had down ready to lean out and shoot at them. The reason for that, aside from the headlights being shot out, was the large hole in the windshield directly in front of the steering wheel. Behind it the driver was slumped over, a smear of blood across the backrest.
It would've taken a serious bullet to punch through that reinforced glass. Like from the town's only .50 caliber rifle.
With a surge of elation Lewis glanced towards town, catching sight of a dozen or so defenders making their way cautiously towards the still-burning truck using the cover of sage bushes and anything else they could hide behind. Matt and Gutierrez were in the lead, the former soldier carrying the heavy gun.
Their own reinforcements had arrived, and faster than he ever could've hoped.
Matt signaled, and all together the group began firing on the men hiding behind the flipped truck. The shoe was on the other foot now, as the raiders got to enjoy being pinned with enemies at their back. Four of them broke and fled to the southwest, away from Matt's group and Lewis and Jane's position both, as gunfire filled the air all around them. One stumbled and fell and didn't get back up.
