by Trent Reedy
He paused, thinking about it. “It’ll never work. The war’s too big, man.”
“Maybe, but I’m doing this. I don’t have any choice. At the very least, I got to get us more food and bullets. Hopefully, I can get Montaine to do something about the Brotherhood.”
Sweeney was quiet, thinking again. The ash on the end of his cigarette was really long. “How do I keep letting you talk me into these stupid —”
“I wasn’t asking you to come with me.”
He stood up. “Oh, come on. I ought to knock you on your ass. What part of ‘with you all the way’ don’t you understand? But I … Are you sure about this?”
“This is as sure as I’ve felt about anything in a long time,” I said. “I have to try.”
—• Those of us inside the United States are fortunate. Even though more US citizens are being called upon to fight, most of us still enjoy many of the freedoms we had before the war. The United States invites those of you listening in rebel states to return to America. If you and your family can reach United States territory, you will be welcomed home with open arms. You’re listening to the Unity Radio Network. Hope for a united America. •—
—• Welcome back to the Civil War Situation Room here on the Atlantica News Network. I’m Al Hudson. We’re joined today by a senior official from the Atlantica War Department, Colonel Bradley Yates. Colonel, as you know, one of the many things our leader, General Vogel, has done extremely well is to keep a digital communications grid operating in our country. This allows us to hear from patriots all over our nation, and tonight we’ve been in touch with people in Spartanburg, Greenville, and other northern cities, who are concerned about the fighting going on so close to their homes. Colonel, what should those patriots understand?”
“Thank you, Al. That’s a great question, but before I answer it, I just want to say that I’ve spoken directly with General Vogel himself, and he has expressed a great deal of appreciation for everything you and your fellow journalists at ANN are doing. It’s great to see that patriotism for the great nation of Atlantica can march side by side with the kind of excellent fair, free, and independent journalism you people are delivering every day. To answer your question. I will not lie to you. It’s a difficult battle. We’re fighting a war along old state lines that were arbitrarily drawn up hundreds of years ago. When you’re out there on the border, you can’t see that line. There is no line. That’s a meaningless, archaic marker. We can all see the wisdom in the Vogel Doctrine, which dictates we will seize territory anywhere if it promotes the peace and safety of Atlantica. So Charlotte, Fayetteville, Wilmington — the whole state of North Carolina! Those are all areas that will soon either be under Atlantican control or be destroyed. The fight is difficult now, and clearly we should be on guard against our many enemies, but what is also clear is that General Jonathan Vogel is leading this nation to an amazingly bright future. •—
—• The conclusion we’ve been able to draw so far is that the greatest losses are in border cities. Appalachia continues to hold Cincinnati and the southern territory of what used to be Ohio, but Liberum’s continued attempts to take back that territory have left much of that city in ruins.
Here’s an image from our NBC drone cam — we apologize for the poor quality. There you see the broken arch in what is left of Saint Louis. Fighting there between US and Liberum forces has intensified in the last few days as US Marines are securing their position on the east bank of the Mississippi •—
—• German armored and mobile air defense artillery suffered another setback today as Soviet cruise missiles pounded German positions around the Polish city of Poznan. To the southeast in Prague, the British and French clashed with Soviet infantry units, a setback after Turkish forces were compelled to answer attacks on their homeland from Iraq and Iran.
While the United States has been too preoccupied with the North American war to assist its allies against the Free Federation of Nations, today several United States submarines contributed to the sinking of the Soviet flagship missile cruiser Admiral Kuznetsov. The ship is believed to have been destroyed with most of its over seventeen hundred crew members aboard. •—
—• Keep it tuned to WGN Chicago, Liberum’s superstation. With fourteen different countries across the Pan American area, each of them doing their best to appear invincible, getting accurate casualty figures is exceedingly difficult. However, many people now believe that not counting the nuclear attacks on New York and Washington, DC, Pan American casualties have likely topped two and a half million. This staggering death toll has risen thanks to continued brutal fighting, starvation, a terribly hot summer and desperately cold winter, and now, a new horrible killer — the improvised explosive drone. These bombs can be rigged on old, inexpensive, commercially available drones, allowing opposing armies or violent militias to easily inflict massive casualties from a distance. Several trucks out of Oklahoma crossed the border into Missouri within drone range of the city of Joplin. In a little over an hour, an estimated two hundred drones, each carrying at least a full pound of a high-explosive compound wrapped in metal shrapnel, flew into the city and attacked United States positions. Remote drone pilots were able to maneuver the tiny aircraft wherever people tried to take shelter. Over a thousand were killed. •—
—• That red light means this is on, yeah? We’re not professional broadcasters. All right. Please, everyone watching the Atlantica News Network. General Jonathan Vogel is dead. We have killed him ourselves. Several of his top officers are dead as well. We represent a large group of Atlantican citizen-soldiers who refuse to suffer under Vogel’s brutal police-state tactics and who want an end to the war. At this time, all Atlantican forces are withdrawing to the original boundaries of South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida. Citizens of Atlantica should stand by for further announcements regarding reforms. For now, please join us in celebrating the end of the tyrannical military dictatorship led by General Vogel. •—
—• Greetings, fellow patriots! Welcome back to the Buzz Ellison Show. It’s another great day of freedom here in the Northwest Alliance. Those of you who were listening before that last update from the War Department heard my conversation with a very interesting caller. She was a Northwest Alliance citizen who was asking if the war — our struggle for freedom, dignity, and conservatism — was worth the enormous cost. She was even thinking about joining that ridiculous Pan American Peace Movement. She was calling on a comm that was just about out of charge, and she had it plugged in, but then her city suffered a power outage and we lost the call. I assure you, I did not hang up on her. The Buzzmaster does not shy away from the tough issues.
Over the many, many years I’ve been broadcasting my genius, I’ve become quite skilled at reading people. Some people have a rare gift for listening and understanding, and I happen to be one of those people. And I sensed some worry in that last caller. I think she’s worried that we are getting closer to losing this war.
Fellow patriots, let me assure you: It’s the other way around. The United States is losing this war! They’re fighting on how many fronts now? Yes, US forces have retaken most of the state of Washington, but they had to destroy it to do it! They had to bomb the hell out of Washington to get it back! And even then, they couldn’t retake Spokane and Fairchild Air Force Base there. The US lost so many soldiers, so much ammunition and valuable equipment and … and aircraft, folks, in their failed attempt to destroy or dominate Spokane. They are on the losing side of this war. Our job is to hold our ground and inflict as many casualties on the United States as we can. And if we keep our faith, if we maintain the strong foundation of our conservative principles, then victory is right around the corner. •—
—• I am Vice President General Charles Jacobsen, making this address on multiple television, radio, and Internet channels and frequencies at the behest of the United States Congress and President Laura Griffith. Leadership and people living in rebel states, listen carefully. Every possible effort has been made to lim
it the number of civilian casualties in the process of ending your rebellions. The United States has been generous in welcoming, with open arms, refugees from your impoverished and suffering states. But our patience is nearing an end. You will stand down your forces and surrender, or the United States will have no mercy on your people. We will, if necessary, completely destroy your cities, using any and all methods available to us, including nuclear weapons. You have one week to comply. Surrender now, or you will die. •—
I’m not gonna lie. It was not easy to convince the council to authorize the mission to Boise. A lot of people pointed out the terrible cost of freeing the slave camp. But I responded that this wasn’t an assault operation, and Sergeant Kemp helped me out, reminding them of our troubling tactical situation. “Even if Danny just brings back a few cans of ammo,” he said, “it would make a huge difference.” In the end, the vote was tied and went to Mrs. Pierce. She stared at me in silence for a long time, and somehow I got the idea that we had an understanding, veteran to veteran.
“I wish you success,” she said quietly, “for the sake of us all.”
The next three days were full of frantic but quiet planning. It didn’t take long until my whole group — Sweeney, Cal, Becca, TJ, and Jaclyn — had volunteered for the mission. Then, after we explained to Lieutenant Griffith our hope for how he might help us convince the Northwest Alliance and the United States to agree to a cease-fire, he volunteered to come with us.
Chris Stone approached me one night when I was checking over Pale Horse’s engine. She hadn’t run in a while, and I wanted to make sure she was ready. Cal was busy loading some extra five-gallon fuel cans onto the vehicle. Sweeney and Becca were stowing away some rations for the trip. I could tell something was on Stone’s mind, but I waited for him to speak.
“Listen, Wright,” he said. “I want to thank you again, thank all of you, for coming to get us out of that Brotherhood camp. I owe you big.”
“No.” I smiled at him. “You really don’t.”
“It’s just, you know, the Brotherhood snatched me off the street. Then I was in that camp. Then I’ve been here. What I really want to do is go back to working with the Cliffhanger.”
“What?” Sweeney teased. “You don’t like us?”
Stone grinned. “It’s not that. You all are great. But besides this mission to Boise, there’s no realistic way for me to get out of here. It’s like I have no choice. I’m safe, but not exactly free.”
“Same goes for everyone here,” Becca said.
“Everybody who was working with the Cliffhanger knows a certain radio code he uses.” Stone looked down for a moment. “When the Cliffhanger was broadcasting in the area, I risked sending a coded signal, asking him to stay around. He was heading out to Seattle, but sent a message saying he’d be back in about a month. I’ve been able to confirm he’s back in Boise, and I’d like to rejoin him.”
I pretended to think about it for a moment. “Well, the food will be lousy and Cal snores when he sleeps,” I said.
“I do not!” Cal yelled.
“But sure,” I said. “We can take you as far as Boise.”
We told everyone that we’d be rolling out after breakfast Sunday morning. Our real plan was to leave a lot earlier, to avoid a big crowd gathering to say goodbye. Sergeant Kemp was the only one who saw through our lie. He joined us in the parking lot just before dawn. “You sure you don’t want me to come along?”
“We want you to come along,” I said. “But you’re needed here to run the defense of this place.“
“Plus,” said Sweeney, “this trip will be dangerous, and we wouldn’t want you to lose your other eye.”
“Thanks.” Kemp laughed a little. “You know this is crazy, right?”
“More than anything else we’ve done?” I asked. “You know I’m right. This is our best — our only — chance to get some help before the Brotherhood finds us. I know me and the president didn’t get along so good last time we talked, but Montaine’s always protected me. Maybe he’ll do it again.”
Kemp shrugged. “Good luck, then. I’ll pass your apologies to the council for leaving earlier than planned.”
Becca hugged him. “Goodbye, Tom. Take care of yourself.”
“You too, Wells,” he said.
I looked him in the eye as I shook his hand. “Sit this one out,” I said. “Good luck holding down the fort. And good luck with Angeline.”
Everybody started mounting up in Pale Horse. Kemp wasn’t an officer, but he was one of the best soldiers I’d ever served with, one of the few from the 476th Combat Engineer Company who had survived, and protocol could go to hell.
I snapped to attention and saluted him. He smiled and saluted right back.
* * *
I think I’d been missing out on a lot by being the driver on so many missions. Up in the gun turret, with the sun shining on me, the fresh air in my face, and beautiful mountain and river views all around, I felt like a cowboy. I stood with my ass against the back of the turret hatch and my top half in the open air, leaning back like I was riding a horse.
We took a different road southwest out of Hindman, almost like a trail that wound its way along the banks of different little rapids-filled creeks and rivers. I could hardly figure out why this road was here in the first place. There were only a few houses and trailers along the fifty-some miles of dirt. A couple people at these properties watched us drive by, showing us they were armed. I made sure they saw my rifle in turn, and we passed on in peace.
We drove along slow and careful. In a couple places, the road was too jacked up to go very fast, so it took us the better part of a day to get near Highway 55 and the town of Cascade. We stopped before we reached the town and parked back off the road in the dark shadows under some trees. We set up the litters in the back of Pale Horse as well as a guard rotation for the night. TJ stood in the turret and Lieutenant Griffith sat on the roof to cover the first guard shift, while Cal and Stone slept in the seats up front in case we had to roll out in a hurry. The rest of us hit the rack. I was in the top litter on the driver’s side. Jaclyn had the lower rack below mine. Becca was across from me, and Sweeney had the litter under hers. The quiet night settled around us.
“This will sound stupid,” I said after a few minutes. “But here we are, out on the road again. Anything could happen. Any psychos could be out in the woods.”
“Thanks for bringing that up, Danny,” Jaclyn said. “Real nice.”
We all got a chuckle out of that.
“I’m not gonna lie,” I said. “I feel safer out here with you all than just about anywhere else.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Cal said from the front seat.
“Go to hell, Cal,” I answered.
More laughter. But Becca reached across the gap between our racks and squeezed my hand. It wasn’t weird or anything. It meant she understood what I was trying to say. It meant she felt the same.
The next day, our plan for getting through Cascade was to move fast and shoot any trouble before it turned into more trouble. As we drove south through town, an old pickup suddenly rolled across the road in front of us, and about six gunmen came out from some falling-down houses. Cal had to swerve off the road, and my shot went wide from the bumping around. Then we had a crazy run through town, trying to find an intact route to get back up on the highway. Four guys in an ancient Ford Focus with the roof cut off chased us for a while, but I dropped one of them, and then Jaclyn fired round after round from the rear gun port, taking out their windshield and radiator. Steam and smoke poured from the Ford’s engine, and we left them behind.
By late afternoon, we’d reached the outskirts of Boise. We passed areas that used to be nicer housing developments. A lot of the houses looked blown out. Some of them had plywood over the windows. A fire had swept through at some point a while back. Many of the trees were burned down to scorched bones.
“Damn,” said Lieutenant Griffith. “This is terrible.”
“Yeah, yo
u can thank your mom for that,” Cal said.
“Chill, dude,” Sweeney said. “There’s enough war going on. We don’t need any more here in Pale Horse.”
“So what do we do?” Stone asked. “I assume the Idaho Army isn’t going to just let us drive into their secret base.”
“They might, if you turned me over as a prisoner,” Griffith said.
“Not going to happen, Doug,” said Becca.
“If Montaine doesn’t seem like he’s going to play ball, I won’t even tell him you’re with us,” I said. “We didn’t bust our asses getting you out of that camp just so you could be an Idaho Army prisoner.” I looked ahead. “Hey, Cal,” I said, “check out this burned-out old Gas & Sip.” Only three of the four walls of the gas station and the charred sign out front remained. “Can we pull over and take cover there for a minute? I want to try something.”
Cal drove right into the center of the old building, crunching over the ashes of Ding Dongs and beef jerky. If anything useful had survived the fire, it had long since been taken. My friends got out, stretched their legs, and set up a security perimeter around Pale Horse. I stayed in the turret and took out my comm, which I had charged on our solar generator before we left the school. It had a lot better signal here in Boise. Some tech must still be running.
“Hank, you stupid piece of shit, let’s see if you can still do anything. Get me a video call with President Montaine.”
“Well, golly! My stars! I do declare it’s been a month of Sundays since we last talked, partner! I’ll put that rootin’-tootin’ call through faster … than a drunken jackrabbit in the moonshine still. Meantime, here’s a little taste of my new song, ‘Troubled Times’ by Hank McGrew —”
“No, Hank, don’t play a —”
What’s this war even for?
Too many folks are dyin’
