“Don’t know,” Art said still staring at the radio.
“Art, this is tower, are you there?”
“Yeah,” Art replied as Vince looked at the tree line with his scope.
“Cutter is heading to you,” tower said.
Trying not to shiver, Art raised the radio to his mouth, “I’ll be waiting.”
“Fuck me, I hate that motherfucker,” Vince said, not even trying to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. Cutter was more or less the head of the four leaders. Not because he was the smartest, but because he was the most ruthless. Of everyone in the camp, everyone feared Cutter.
He got his name because he loved using a knife on people. On people that displeased him, it was a dull knife.
Turning the radio off, Art looked down at Vince. “You need to stand up and act brave. If Cutter sees you’re scared, you know what he’ll do.”
Jumping to his feet, Vince took several deep breaths. “I’m good.”
As they waited, the sound grew louder and after ten more minutes, Vince looked at Art. “Yeah, those are engines.”
“They are coming through the woods,” Art said.
There was only one road, which was a loose description, that led to the camp. Even though there was a road, there was no gate on the wall. Vince looked to the north where the road was, then back at the forest. “Bro, they would be in some serious rides to come through the woods,” Vince said in a low voice.
“I’m thinking tanks,” Art said and could feel a slight tremble in the wall through his boots. “Hear that loud popping? That’s trees being knocked down.”
The noise grew louder, slowly rolling toward them and Vince kept his eye on his scope. “Art, I’m seeing trees falling,” he said, raising his voice over the noise.
Suddenly in front of them, trees fell into the field of barbed wire and a M1 Abrams stopped. It had a large metal rack hanging over it, but neither man really noticed it. Art and Vince just saw the massive barrel, aimed at them.
All along the tree line, trees were knocked over as more tanks stopped at the edge of the barbed wire field. Then, other tank-like vehicles knocked over trees then stopped. “What are those?” Art asked.
“Bradleys,” Vince said, then pointed as vehicles pulled up beside the tanks and Bradleys. “Those are Strykers and MRAPs.”
Thunder roared overhead as thirty jets flying in a V flew over them. Both dropped down on the wall, covering their ears. “Oh shit! It’s Omega!” Vince shouted, lifting his head and seeing more vehicles pulling to the edge of the barbed wire field.
Lifting his binoculars, Art looked across the field and saw lines of vehicles, just sitting in columns behind the tanks with large racks over them. “There are lines of armored vehicles just sitting in the woods,” he said getting up. He glanced over to see Vince about to raise his rifle. “Don’t raise your rifle, dumbass, or they will shoot us!”
“Oh yeah,” Vince said and slung his rifle as he got to his feet.
A loud roar sounded and Art watched as rockets shot from the six tanks that had racks. The rockets seemed to be pulling a thick rope. “I don’t like this,” Art mumbled as the thick ropes landed across the field of barbed wire.
‘Boom’ shook the ground as the six thick ropes exploded, making both men drop back to the wall. When they looked up, they saw a cleared path blown through the barbed wire field close to a hundred yards long. Then, the tanks with racks slowly pulled down the cleared lanes, stopping when they reached the barbed wire.
“What the fuck do we do?” Vince asked in a quivering voice.
“What the hell was that?” Art shouted back.
“MICLIC charge,” a voice said behind them and they turned to see a small man climb up on the wall, followed by four others.
“A what?” Art asked.
“Mine Clearing Line Charge,” the man said looking over the field. “It’s used to clear mine fields but as you can see, it is very good clearing barbed wire.”
“Cutter,” Art said getting up. “Do we attack?”
Cutter looked at Art as a new sound was heard and everyone turned to see a flock of helicopters flying towards them. The line of choppers stopped, hovering over the tree line and then turned and flew off. “That was over a hundred helicopters,” Vince droned.
“Fuck!” Cutter shouted as all the engines cut off, filling the area with an eerie silence.
“Hello,” a voice said over a loud speaker. “We just stopped by to say hi.”
“I know that voice,” Vince said.
Cutter nodded, “Yeah, we all do. That’s Bruce.”
Art looked at Cutter and for the first time, saw that the evil man was truly scared. “Cutter, we either attack or you need to tell the boys not to engage until Omega fires. They haven’t attacked, so they might want to make an offer like they did to the army,” Art said and didn’t care if Cutter shanked him or not.
Grabbing his radio, “Tower, tell all members not to fire until I order,” Cutter said then lowered the radio. A bell sounded in the distance as everyone turned on their radios to get their orders.
Cutter turned to Art as Bruce spoke over the loudspeaker. “As you can see, we can roll over you with ease or just bomb your ass, but I’m on a tight schedule. So, I’m going to offer you a choice. Free your captives now and I’ll give you fifteen days to leave for South America. We have killed another ten million blues, so you won’t face masses of blues until you reach the west. Or you can just sit there and we will kill everyone.”
“Cutter,” Art said, looking at Cutter.
“We can’t let them go. Who will do the work?” Cutter shouted.
“Cutter, if nothing else, we can head north to Pennsylvania and join the army. They have the equipment to fight Omega, we don’t. It won’t matter if we are dead,” Art said somewhat calmly. “We know Omega will attack.”
Looking at Art, Cutter shook his head. “We can use the drones as shields.”
“Cutter, there are more drones than fighters. We would be fighting Omega coming in and the drones inside. Hell, you’ve heard the radio and TV, Omega knows how to capture. You really want to risk some of the troops turning?” Art asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Okay, I’m getting bored and my butt is itching,” Bruce said over the loudspeaker and everyone looked out over the field, expecting the hounds of hell to start charging. “You have sixty seconds or we attack. If you accept letting the hostages go and leaving, I want to see a white cloth waved at me.”
“Live or die, Cutter,” Art said.
Lifting the radio to his mouth, Cutter shouted, “Wave something white!”
Vince put his rifle down and dropped his pants, yanking a knife out. Cutting his underwear off, he waved it in the air over his head. All along the wall, anything white was waved in the air.
“Well, I have to say, you are smarter than most,” Bruce said and they heard a young girl’s voice but not the words. “Damn it, Buffy, they surrendered. No, you can’t let Herman cut on them!” Bruce shouted and the loud speaker shut off with a loud feedback squelch.
“Cutter, you need to tell everyone not to even aim at them. We don’t want any excuse for them to attack,” Art said.
“How do you know he will keep his word?” Cutter said then spoke in the radio.
When Cutter finished, Art shrugged. “I don’t but think about it. They can’t kill us all and Omega is very much bound by a sense of honor. We would tell others and nobody else would surrender.”
Cutter looked at Art in surprise. “From now on, you’re one of my advisors,” Cutter said. “That is sound reasoning.”
A loud feedback squelch filled the air. “Buffy, I will ground your ass. Now sit down!” Bruce bellowed over the loudspeaker. “To those on the wall, my center tank will be clearing a path to you. I’m sure you can hear my troops killing blues around us, so I suggest you have something ready to fill in the gap when the hostages are loaded up.”
Turning around, Cutter looked at one of
the men who’d followed him. “Get the trucks and load up the barbed wire we have left to fill in the gap,” he barked and the man took off running.
On a hunch, Art lifted his radio, pressing the button. “Omega, do we have your word that you won’t attack when the hostages are gone?”
“Whoever this is, you are talking to Bruce and you have my word. None of my troops will shoot you unless threatened, but you must be gone in fifteen days,” Bruce answered over the radio.
“Fuck,” Cutter said, looking at the radio in Art’s hand.
“Bruce, you have our word we will leave, but we will need twenty days,” Art said, grinning at Cutter. “We were already planning on leaving, but were gathering supplies. Can we please have the twenty days?”
“Are you insane?” Vince said in a low voice.
“Hold, please,” Bruce said.
Cutter looked at Art, “Why did you ask that?”
“We need to get word to the army and they can help us move our shit up there to them if we have twenty days,” Art said.
The radio squawked and everyone jumped. “To whom am I speaking?” Bruce asked.
Art looked at Cutter, “May I say I’m your advisor?”
“Fuck yeah, but don’t give him my name,” Cutter snapped, wiping sweat off his face.
“Bruce, my name is Art and I’m an advisor to one of the leaders here,” Art called back over the radio.
“Art, you may have your twenty days but if we see you again, I don’t have to tell you what will happen,” Bruce called back.
“Sir,” Art shouted into the radio and everyone cringed. “We will be passing by your outpost heading to South America.”
“No Art, if you are leaving and don’t harm anyone on your way, my promise stands, none of my troops will shoot at you. But if you attack any survivors, my promise is revoked,” Bruce said and Art looked at Cutter.
“Tell him we will gather the drones,” Cutter said.
Nodding, Art raised the radio, “We are gathering the people now,” he said then let the radio go. “We can’t refer to them as drones.”
“Dude, they will find out if they don’t know already,” Vince snapped.
“God damn it, Matt! Control your wife!” Bruce shouted over the radio and Art swore he heard the voice from the tree line. “No, Danny, I gave my word and you will not make them eat their own balls as you laugh!”
“Whoever Danny is, we should run from them,” Vince said, covering his groin and noticed everyone else doing the same.
“Sorry, some of my troops are pissed, but they will follow my orders,” Bruce called over the radio. “My tank will start clearing and will only clear one lane, starting in thirty seconds.”
“Art, you stay with me,” Cutter said. “Art, tell the members to bring up the drones.”
After Art gave the instructions, a ‘whoosh’ sounded and everyone turned to see another rocket shooting out and dragging a long rope. Nobody waited for it to land as they dove down. When it exploded, Bruce’s voice came over the radio. “Art, you need to make sure none of your gang tries to sneak in with the hostages because it will be very bad for them,” Bruce said as a young girl screamed in the background.
“Herman needs to cut someone!”
“I understand, Bruce,” Art said, getting up as the tank rolled down the cleared path. “Bruce, we had lookouts. Can you tell us what happened to them?”
“Well, they didn’t surrender when we asked, so one of my officers cut their nuts off and fed them to each one,” Bruce said. “Art, you have men on the wall where my tank is approaching and you need to tell them to leave. If they are hurt, it’s on them, not me.”
Cutter looked around, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
The group ran to the ladder and slid down as another rocket launched. “Want me to ask how many outposts he got?” Art asked, running for Cutter’s truck.
“No,” Cutter said. “None answered and I don’t want to make them think they got all of them.”
Over the wall, they heard gunfire as Omega killed the blues attracted by the noise. “You realize Omega will kill most of the blues around us. We can send a team to the army camp a day after Omega leaves,” Art said, climbing in the truck.
“I’m sure they will have spy planes over us,” Cutter said.
“Yeah, and all they will see is us getting ready to leave,” Art said as the truck sped to Cutter’s building. “When we leave, small groups can break off heading north till we just disappear.”
Cutter turned to him with a smile, “Were you in the military?”
“No, played paintball and video games, but I also read a lot of books,” Art said.
“You think that army group can take Omega with us joining them?” Cutter asked.
“No, but I think we will be too much trouble to fight. Omega is fighting to clear out the blues, they can’t take a protracted war,” Art said. “As they do that, we need to learn how to fight in a battle and those army guys can teach us that.”
With a cold smile, Cutter nodded. “Art, you are now my second in command.”
“Thank you, sir, but I have a lot of engines to work on for us,” Art said.
“No, your job is much more important now,” Cutter said as another explosion shook the earth. “How long you think it will take to get the drones out?”
“Tonight at the earliest,” Art said.
“Call Bruce and tell him that none of our members will be engaging the blues, so we don’t endanger his troops. That way, his troops are tied up clearing the area for us and we can start gathering our gear and not wasting any of our ammo,” Cutter said.
“Very good, Cutter,” Art laughed, raising the radio.
Chapter 37
Putting his cellphone away, Bruce stood on top of his rig, watching the survivors walking down through the blown path of barbwire. He had to admit, the field of barbed wire was rather ingenious to hold off the blues. They had found the pipes the gang had used to pump fuel into the field and Bruce really didn’t like the ingenuity this group showed.
“They look like hell,” Buffy said beside him, looking at the procession of hostages.
It reminded Bruce of the old World War II reels of holocaust survivors marching. “Yeah, they have a long way to go to get better,” he sighed.
When the hostages reached the tree line, they were loaded up in trucks and driven out to a staging area five miles away. They were then moved to semi-trailers and fed basic, simple meals as the five-ton trucks headed back to pick up more.
As darkness fell, all the rigs extended the booms that held work lights, bathing the area in light. Bruce just stood and watched the people. Most had faint smiles, while others just moved with the crowd.
“It’s going to take a lot of effort on us and them to get them productive,” Carl said, climbing out on the roof.
“What are the morons inside doing?” Bruce asked.
“Getting stuff together like they are leaving,” Carl said. “You know they are heading north, right?”
“Well, duh,” Bruce huffed. “I wasn’t in the mood to launch an attack. They were either giving them up or getting wiped out.”
“Boss,” Carl said, moving closer and lowering his voice. “I’m glad we rescued these people, but letting six thousand fighters join up with that military group is dangerous.”
“I gave my word,” Bruce shrugged. “We’ll deal with them in time.”
“You’re keeping your word to murderers and rapists?” Carl groaned.
“What’s our best estimates on hostages?” Bruce asked.
“Around eleven thousand,” Carl answered and Bruce looked at him.
“You sound rather confident.”
“Oh, it’s close, Ted has a group on the wall and counted what’s left,” Carl said.
“Oh, so he can waltz over there when he’s supposed to be up my ass, but I can’t?” Bruce barked.
“Yep,” Carl nodded. “I was up your ass when you went samurai, so he can do
this.”
Around them, the sound of gunfire rang out as Omega engaged blues and helicopters zoomed overhead doing the same. “Are the blues mounting any formidable resistance that I need to know about?” Bruce asked.
“Not that I’ve heard about,” Carl said. “Willie has half his regiment sleeping and we do, too.”
“You think we will be out of here by morning?” Bruce asked.
“Yeah, I figure around three and we will have them loaded up,” Carl said.
“When they are loaded, Omega is heading home,” Bruce said as another loaded truck pulled away and an empty one pulled up.
Watching troops helping the people into the massive six-by-six, Carl shook his head. “Boss, can I please beg of you to let me take this group out?”
“No, I gave my word,” Bruce said.
Buffy let out a groan beside Bruce. “Can I at least go over to Danny’s battalion and shoot some blues?” she whined.
“No, you will stay here and teach Bonnie,” Bruce said.
“Let me take her over to Danny’s,” Buffy said, throwing up her hands.
“Buffy, not in the mood,” Bruce said and Buffy gave a sigh as she turned around and climbed into the back of the rig.
“How is Danny holding up?” Carl asked in a low voice.
Not looking away from the hostages being loaded, Bruce slowly nodded his head. “She’s holding up. The first are always the hardest, but she understands.”
“You told her it wasn’t her fault, right?” Carl asked.
Whipping his gaze to Carl, “No Carl, I blamed her,” Bruce snapped. “Of course, I told her that, but you know it doesn’t do any good. We all try to figure out what we did wrong and the thing is, most of the time, there is nothing that could’ve been done.”
“Could she have done anything different?”
“Hindsight is 20/20, Carl,” Bruce said, turning back as the truck drove off and another pulled up to be loaded. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I could’ve had our front more condensed and we wouldn’t have been so spread out.”
“Has anyone figured out where they all came from?” Carl asked, hearing a tone he didn’t like from Bruce.
Blue Plague (Book 7): Hope Page 48
