Invasion (Best Laid Plans Book 3)

by Nathan Jones

  “Come on.” Lewis pulled Jane up and vaulted the fence, then helped drag her over so they could drop down on the other side, safe from the fire of the momentarily distracted men in the reinforcement vehicle. Once she was over Jane joined the other defenders firing at the fleeing raiders, while Lewis leaned over the fence and began firing at the truck again.

  Against an unmoving target, especially without the specter of certain death hanging over him, he was able to make better shots at the vehicle. He wasn't sure his shots did any good, and he didn't have a chance to find out because just as he began to fire the driver's side door was pushed open so the driver's body could be shoved out.

  The raider in the middle seat scooted behind the wheel, ducking low against any more fire from Gutierrez's gun, and moments later the vehicle lurched into motion and pulled into a tight U-turn. The vehicle roared off back the way it had come, abandoning the fight entirely.

  “Lewis, Jane!” Matt shouted across the hundred or so yards between them. “Are you okay?”

  “Jane's hit!” Lewis shouted back.

  His friend started forward at a run, talking as he approached. “Can she walk? We need to get out of here before more trucks arrive!”

  Jane determinedly pushed to her feet, hissing slightly in pain. “My vest stopped it. I'll be fine.”

  Considering she'd been puking her guts up five minutes ago Lewis wasn't sure he agreed with just dismissing her injury out of hand, and he was definitely going to make sure Terry checked her out. But for the moment he hurriedly slung his weapon and caught up with her so he could get her arm over his shoulder and support most of her weight.

  Matt met them halfway and got Jane's other side, and together they hobbled towards the rest of the group as quickly as they could. Gutierrez had the defenders arranged in a protective arc, squinting into the darkness for enemies with their ears pricked for the sound of more approaching engines. They kept those positions as they withdrew following the three making for town at the best speed Jane could manage.

  “Anything broken?” Matt asked worriedly. “Bleeding?”

  Jane's ponytail jiggled limply as she shook her head. “Just bruised.”

  “It was a gut shot,” Lewis reported. “She's been throwing up.”

  “Then we'll make the clinic our first stop.” Matt looked around uneasily. “Let's go a bit faster, okay? The sooner we get there the sooner you can rest.”

  * * * * *

  The attack didn't last too much longer after that.

  It wasn't so much that the defenders inflicted any real damage on the raiders, aside from the truck Lewis and Jane had destroyed and the few enemies killed during the confrontation there, but that the trucks never really tried get in and didn't have anything to do outside. After a half hour or so of driving around the outside of town they gave up and left.

  The enemy tried firing missiles at three of the smaller roadblocks hoping to clear the way, but while the explosions opened a path big enough for a truck at two of them the raiders didn't try to drive into town. Possibly because beyond the roadblocks all the crude tack strips, cars across the roads, people hiding in nearby buildings with Molotovs, and other defenses they'd set up in case the raiders got into town continued to block the streets.

  More of a problem was the four houses destroyed by missiles, one of which had been sheltering two defenders firing at the circling trucks and another of which had collapsed on the family living inside, who hadn't managed to flee in time. Their rescue efforts managed to save the father and one of the children, while the two defenders and the mother and other child died before they could be dug out.

  On the enemy side there were three confirmed killed and one possible wounded, but their real loss was the destroyed truck. Once the defenders were sure the raiders were gone for the moment Gutierrez led a small team back out to gather what they could from the vehicle. Unfortunately the raiders had already been and gone, taking anything of value then firing a missile into the wreck as a parting gesture. The defenders were left with nothing but a gutted hulk.

  Even so everyone in town was celebrating the night's confrontation as a victory, and morale had dramatically increased. A few were even talking like the raiders had lost and the siege was over, and after this Turner would give up and leave.

  Lewis supposed that was a possibility, but somehow he doubted it. The truck and the raiders who died there had been pure luck on their part, and aside from that they hadn't done any real damage to the enemy at all. There was also the fact that to him this felt more like the raiders were testing their defenses and response times rather than committing to an actual attack.

  For all they knew the raiders would bust a way in and drive around on a shooting spree in an hour or a day or whenever, or take what they'd learned tonight to plan for a more effective attack in the future. Nothing had really changed, and pretending like tonight's fight had been more than it was seemed dangerously shortsighted, the boost in morale notwithstanding.

  Terry had looked Jane over, and to Lewis's immense relief informed them that he didn't see any sign of internal damage. While worrisome, throwing up after abdominal trauma did happen, and as long as she rested and took it easy for a while she should be fine. He'd know more after he'd had time to observe her for 48 or so hours after eating and drinking, but aside from some serious bruising her prognosis was positive.

  He'd offered to let her stay as long as she needed in the clinic, and she'd seemed happy to take him up on the offer with the completely earnest observation that the cot was more comfortable than her bed at home and the quiet of the clinic would be a nice change. Lewis agreed with both those assessments, and was half tempted to ask if he could bum a cot at the clinic too for the night.

  She'd fallen asleep and was resting easy, so when Matt came to see how she and the other wounded were doing Lewis was happy to take him aside where their conversation wouldn't disturb her. They were joined by Terry and a few others in the clinic wanting to hear the rundown on the aftermath of the attack. As he listened to his friend Lewis planned what he was going to say, and once the conversation lagged he invited Matt to come outside with him.

  First things first, he took his friend by the shoulder. “Thank you,” he said quietly but sincerely. “I don't know how you managed to beat raider trucks to get to us first, but you saved our lives.”

  Matt shifted slightly, looking embarrassed but pleased. “I'm just glad we did. Things were looking pretty bad when we showed up.” A somewhat awkward silence settled, and to escape it Lewis made his way over to lean back against the wall.

  His friend settled down against the wall beside him, in spite of himself glancing to the corner where he'd fought for his life just days ago. “Crazy night.”

  Lewis nodded. “How are Sam and the rest of the family doing?”

  “Safe at our house the entire time, aside from Terry and April who were safe at the clinic.”

  “Good to hear.” Lewis hesitated, then bit the bullet. “We need to attack the camps.”

  His friend gave him a surprised look. “Still? We just proved the raiders can't do anything to us.”

  “We didn't prove that at all. The raiders weren't trying to get into town. Besides, if we hadn't gotten lucky with the truck we wouldn't have done anything to them tonight either.”

  Matt slowly shook his head. “You've explained your reasoning for attacking the camps, but after tonight I think you're going to need to make a much better argument for it.”

  Lewis did his best to hide his frustration. “How about the fact that we're still trapped in town? Our hunting parties can't get out and aside from a bit of game bagged around the gardens we haven't had any fresh meat in days! Our foragers have picked the town clean and can't get out into the countryside to search for any more edibles out there. Nothing changed with tonight's attack and we're still in the same bad situation.” His friend looked away stubbornly and Lewis took a step closer. “Matt, we have to hit back!”

  “Don't lo
se your cool, man. I know that was a close one and Jane almost died, but-”

  “This isn't about that!” Lewis cut in, doing his best to keep calm so his argument would be viewed rationally. “It's been seven days since the raiders showed up, eight if it's past midnight by now. The raiders have attacked us twice in that time. Twice, and yet every hour of every day all of us in town are on edge expecting to be hit at any moment, going without sleep and running ourselves ragged just in case. Meanwhile the raiders are sitting in their camps rested and relaxed, because they're the ones making the attacks so they know exactly when they need to be prepared for action.”

  His friend hesitated, looking uncertain. “I'm sure it's not all parties and sleeping in at those camps. This conflict has to be taking its toll on the raiders too.”

  “Why would it?” Lewis demanded. “We haven't done anything for them to worry about. They're putting constant pressure on us while we put zero pressure on them. They can do whatever they want while we huddle waiting for the next blow to come. They're completely controlling this fight and it's wearing us down and destroying our morale. Even if it's dangerous, even if we lose the engagements, we have to start attacking them.”

  “What do you mean, even if we lose the engagements?” Matt demanded incredulously. “How is that a good outcome?”

  “Because at least they know we're out there, that we might strike at them at any time the way we constantly have to be prepared for them to hit us! Think of how long it took them to pull themselves together and start attacking us again after I shot Ferris and Turner. I bet they weren't resting easy that first night.”

  Matt shook his head, but he looked thoughtful. “What did you have in mind?”

  Lewis took a deep breath. “Two attacks when they least expect it, tomorrow morning or as soon as possible. First we do a quick hit at the south camp with a small group just before dawn, to draw the trucks away to reinforce there, then retreat to safety before the trucks arrive. At which point we hit the north camp with a larger group, do as much damage as possible, and retreat to town before the trucks can come back.”

  “Are you sure you're thinking clearly? They're the ones with the night vision. All we have is your goggles and the scope. If we attacked before dawn they'd be able to see us much better than we could see them.”

  “That's why me and Jane will take the goggles and scope and attack the south camp, if she's up for it. Or Gutierrez if she isn't. Then you'll lead the second attack with a dozen other people, taking along Molotov cocktails and our .50 caliber rifle in case any trucks arrive before you can safely withdraw. That should still give you a chance to break away clean if the attack doesn't go so well. And since we haven't shown the slightest inclination to attack them they shouldn't be expecting us, which will hopefully give us a better chance for success.”

  Matt still looked undecided. “Maybe we should wait on this.” Lewis opened his mouth to loudly protest, but his friend continued firmly. “I agree with you, and I'll do what I can to see we try your plan. But there's no reason tomorrow won't work just as well as today for it, since they won't be any more likely to expect an attack then. We'll also have time to prepare for it better and pound out a solid plan, and it'll let me talk this over with Mayor Tillman and the others.”

  Lewis nodded, biting back a sigh. His instincts were telling him the next morning was the time, but he couldn't force the rest of the town to go from 0 to 60 when they weren't ready for it. And Matt was right that there were good reasons to wait. Assuming Turner didn't attack again tomorrow or even again tonight, or word of their plans didn't somehow leak out to him by a captured townsperson or a traitor in their midst.

  “Convince them,” he told his friend. “We can't wait for an opportunity, we have to make one. Otherwise we keep losing people and Turner continues to control this war.”

  Matt gave him a rueful smile. “You need to learn the used car salesman's talent of knowing when you've already sold your pitch and it's time to stop pushing.”

  Lewis smiled wanly, but he wasn't in the mood for humor. He'd nearly lost the woman he cared about deeply tonight, and he just wanted a chance to be alone with her and make sure she was really okay. So he patted his friend on the shoulder and headed back inside.

  Jane was awake when he got back to her cot, which was secluded by curtains at the back of the clinic's side room stage left. To his surprise she almost looked relieved to see him.

  “Hey,” he said, smiling as he came and sat down beside her.

  “Hey. Was that Matt I heard?”

  Lewis nodded and quickly filled her in on Matt's rundown of the night's fight. Then he went on to talk about his suggestion to attack the camps and their friend's promise to think it over. “I volunteered you to attack the south camp with me. Hope that's okay.”

  “How else am I going to keep you alive out there?” she asked. He couldn't tell if she was joking or not.

  He decided to be serious too. “I know. You have no idea how scared I was after you got shot. I thought I'd lost you.”

  She looked surprised, and with a flush of embarrassment Lewis realized he might have said too much there. An awkward silence fell, and after a while Jane's eyes drooped shut. He was certain she'd fallen asleep again when she abruptly spoke. “How come you never tried to hit on me? Trev did right from the start.”

  Lewis stiffened in shock. Was this conversation going where he thought it was? He tried for a casual laugh. “I saw how you shot him down and learned my lesson from it.” She didn't answer and after another uncomfortable silence he cleared his throat. “Did you want me to?”

  Jane answered in a hesitant voice, eyes still closed. “Yeah, I think I did.”

  Lewis felt a sudden surge of mixed emotions, elation high up on the list. For her part Jane was biting her lower lip as she waited for his response. “Since when?” he demanded.

  It was her turn to laugh, and it sounded genuine if a bit embarrassed. “Since Trev handed me my dad's gun up in the mountains and told me you'd tightened the stock and smoothed out the bolt mechanism.”

  “Well I could see how that would set a girl's heart to fluttering,” he said wryly.

  Jane's light blue eyes flew open and she turned to glare at him. “It's not just that-” she started, sounding indignant, then abruptly cut off. She stared into his eyes, expression intense. “I care for you. I really care for you. I want . . . a lot more than we have right now. I've been hoping you feel the same way, but I could never tell since I'm terrible at figuring stuff like this out.”

  “I do feel the same,” he said hurriedly, “more and more strongly the more we're together. It's just that I was afraid if I tried anything you wouldn't want to be around me anymore. You know most people have a hard time getting close to you, but by some miracle I was able to. I didn't want to lose what we had.”

  Her eyes softened, and he caught a hint of color on her pale cheeks. “Me either.”

  Another silence fell, but it was their familiar companionable silence. Lewis tentatively reached out and took her hand, and she held it tightly. “I guess it takes a brush with death to get dummies like us to spill our guts.”

  Jane made a face. “Ugh, did you have to put it like that? I'm trying to forget the last few hours.” Her eyes started to droop again, and Lewis had a feeling she was about at the end of her strength.

  “Why don't we talk about this more later?” he said, squeezing her hand.

  “Yeah,” she mumbled. Then her eyes flew open. “You'll stay, won't you?”

  Lewis grinned. “The most amazing woman I've ever met just told me she liked me. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere.”

  Chapter Seven

  Newtown

  The Great Plains weren't doing so great.

  Trev had driven through this part of the country more than once on trips back east, although usually up on I-80 itself rather than on a smaller highway running parallel to it 15 or so miles to the south.

  The breadbasket of America, it was
called. Where enough grain was grown to feed the entire country and then some. As a kid he'd watched out the window as endless fields of mostly corn and wheat flashed past in a comfortingly regular pattern of rows of plants growing dense and tall. Even though it got boring fast when the view stayed unchanged for hundreds of miles, there was always a sort of beauty to it.

  Only now those same fields were in complete disrepair. By the looks of it many of those he pedaled past hadn't been harvested at all, their crops flattened by the winter snows and a few scraggly weeds desperately trying to push up through the densely matted thatch of dead vegetation.

  Even the fields that had been harvested hadn't been planted again, so the weeds grew in chaotic tangles covering everything, including starting their work on the large industrial farming machines scattered here and there. By the looks of it they'd been left wherever they ran out of gas, free to fall to ruin as if nobody expected them to be used any time soon.

  It was an ugly sight, not just due to how it looked but because of what it meant.

  Before the Gulf refineries attack the majority of the farming in the Great Plains had been done by a few large companies that owned miles and miles of fields and did their best to mass produce crops using large equipment and standardized practices that smaller farmers just couldn't compete with. With the collapse of the government and the economy those companies didn't exist anymore, which meant no one was around to tend these fields.

  Smaller farms run by determined families might have weathered the winter and made some effort to plant crops, even without fuel to run their machinery, but whatever employees had maintained these fields either weren't around anymore or just didn't have the resources. Maybe some were on land farther off the roads growing crops as best they could, but on this smaller highway Trev considered himself pretty well out in the boonies and he didn't see a single planted field.