Fire From The Sky | Book 12 | Embers

by Reed, N. C.

  “What do you intend to do, then?” Xavier inquired, shooting two people who tried to dash for the ditch right in front of him.

  “We need to load up in that M-RAP and pull back to a better position. There are two bunkers on this side of the road in front of the Troy House, one across from the Sanders’ homes, and one more on the slope to the Hill. We need to spread out to those bunkers and try to cut away at their numbers with heavy weapons.”

  “An excellent idea,” Xavier approved. “Bossman ordered us to hold if possible and withdraw if not. I concur we cannot hold in the face of such overwhelming numbers. We should detail two men to loading our casualties while the rest of us provide cover.”

  “See to that if you will,” Zach nodded. “I’m going to start shrinking the line down as we do, until we’re concentrated in front of the Cougar.”

  “Excellent idea,” Xavier nodded before turning to the man beside him and issuing orders. Waving at the driver to join them, Xavier pointed to the far end of the ditch and sent the two scrambling that way with orders to stay low and to move beneath the Cougar in order to return to the rear door.

  “We can run a line beneath the vehicle and use it to pull the wounded to the rear using the Cougar as cover,” Xavier noted. “I will get that set up. Don’t get dead,” he grinned, patting Zach’s shoulder.

  “Do my best,” Zach promised with a nod.

  -

  Mitch Nolan had received a ‘cut’, a graze that drew blood, on his right arm at some point. He had tied it off with a handkerchief he carried in his pocket, judging the wound nowhere near bad enough to waste a trauma bandage on it. He also had a stinger on his temple, probably from a ricochet of some kind from somewhere. He had let it bleed so far, but it would need bandaging soon to stop the bleeding.

  Mitch ducked below the lip of the ditch to change his magazine and observed two Guard troopers carrying a bundle that looked familiar. When the two passed by him, Mitch realized the bundle was Stacy Pryor.

  Stunned for a few seconds, Mitch watched the two carrying him to the front of the M-RAP, at which point he stopped watching and returned to the line, his mind racing.

  Edge was dead. He had known Stacey for a long time, Mitch had. Years. Years spent in combat and in some truly spectacular drunken exploits around the seediest bars in Southeast Asia, Africa and the Philippines, not to mention South America.

  That was all done now, Mitch realized. Stacey was going to meet Bear and wait for the rest.

  Pushing that from his mind, Mitch began to target the approaching enemy more carefully. He needed to kill as many as he could. For Edge.

  -

  Greg Holloway began working his way toward the center of the line, firing as he went. A glance down the ditch line was all it took to realize that this engagement had already cost the farm more than most of the others combined.

  Carrie and one of the troopers that had accompanied Xavier, Brigham his name tag said, had crawled beneath the M-RAP to the rear of the vehicle. From there, they began pulling wounded beneath the vehicle the same way, using it for whatever cover it could provide. Jena Waller and Savannah Hale were both loaded first, as they were wounded. The bodies of Stacey Pryor, Eunice Maynard and Freda Fletcher, who had died even as Carrie had worked on her wounds, were next. Bundled together, they were dragged beneath the vehicle by Brigham, Hathoway and Carrie Jarrett as a team.

  Then it was time for the living to go. Mitch and Danica Bennet went first, Danica’s motion almost frantic as she crawled underneath the M-RAP. Once they were at the rear, the two joined Brigham and Hathoway on each side of the vehicle, adding their rifle fire to the machinegun to cover the rest of the line as they withdrew.

  This left Greg, Zach and Xavier still in the ditch. They wasted no time in making their way to the rear door, where the others were already boarding. Vince Hathoway had made his way to the driver’s seat and waited for the last members of the group to be loaded. All the while Brannon Howard continued to sweep the field before them with the BMG, the big rounds killing many and horrifically wounding those ‘lucky’ enough not to be killed outright.

  “That’s it!” Zach called from the rear hatch, having been the last one aboard as ‘commander’ of the patrol. “Let’s move!”

  Hathoway eased the vehicle back and away from the ditch, which gave Howard time to slew the turret around so that he could keep the gun on the target. Xavier, who had taken the passenger seat back, nodded to Hathoway.

  “Let us be away from here,” his cultured voice in no way sounded like a man under fire. Hathoway warned Howard before hitting the gas, the big vehicle moving at once.

  “Operations, this is Gunner,” Xavier heard over his earpiece. “Be advised we are Oscar Mike. Our casualties are such that we are unable to hold this position any longer. With Bossman’s approval, I plan to spread our able bodies among the fixed positions along the south side of the road. Please advise.”

  There was a pause, Zach imagining that Clay was looking at a map and considering what Zach had told him. After a minute, he had his answer.

  “Gunner, Operations. Move is approved. Five-Oh is to report to Sentry Four to reinforce that position. Other dispositions are at your discretion. Have everyone advise when in position along with location.”

  “Gunner acknowledges. Clear.”

  “Operations, standing by.”

  Conferring with Xavier and Mitch for less than a minute, the three had divided their remaining people between the available positions. The M-RAP stopped long enough to let those going to new positions out. Greg Holloway and Vince Hathoway would stay aboard until they reached T2, where they would snag transportation to their new positions, Greg on the Hill and Hathoway in the small bunker fronting the Sanders’ homes, which was empty now.

  “This is very thin,” Mitch noted before he, Danica and Elijah Brigham started for the empty bunker south of Troy House.

  “I’m afraid so,” Xavier agreed. He and Zach were moving to the next position, west of Mitch’s destination and covering the gap between the Troy and Sanders’ farms, enabling them to cover both.

  The M-RAP continued to the clinic with the wounded, Carrie staying with them and Howard at the wheel. He would join Hathoway once he was no longer needed behind the wheel or helping unload wounded.

  -

  Clay agreed with his men’s assessment; things were very thin.

  He studied his map, unconsciously sucking on his teeth as he noted where his troops were. The message from Zach was a sobering one, informing him that several of his people were either dead or wounded. How many of them? Which ones? He had to put that aside. He could only concentrate on the combat power he had lost and how to adjust his forces to fix it.

  “I let the clinic know they have casualties incoming,” Gwen Paige said quietly. Clay nodded his thanks but didn’t turn away from the map. He still didn’t know how many enemy troops there were, or where they were coming from. Such information might not make a difference in the outcome, but knowing those things would be helpful, nevertheless.

  Until he could figure it out, however, he had to continue to defend the farm and the people who called it home.

  “Ask Sergeant Gleason to report to Operations, please,” he told Leon. “And bring four men with him to help carry the wounded.”

  “Got it.”

  -

  The big M-RAP stopped before T2, the door already open as Carrie Jarrett jumped down, setting her bag and rifle aside. Patricia Sanders and Jaylyn Thatcher were both waiting for her and listened intently as the medic ran down the list of injuries and what she had done to treat them. Clay had stepped outside as well, though careful to stay out of the way. When the stretcher bearers returned, the next one out was Stacey Pryor. Clay felt a jolt as he realized that Stacey, the Straight Edge, was gone.

  “Ah, Stace,” he murmured, watching the body be carried inside. “Damn.”

  “Friend?” Gleason asked softly.

  “Brother,” Clay replied, sound
ing lost.

  “Sorry, sir,” the NCO offered.

  Clay didn’t reply but watched as Freda Fletcher and Eunice Maynard were both offloaded. Two of the young women they had trained, at their request, to fight against the people who were trying to take over everything. They had been trained to the best standards and had passed them. But no standards made you bulletproof. The body of Stacey Pryor proved that.

  “War doesn’t discriminate, sir,” Gleason seemed to be reading Clay’s mind. Almost like Big John Barnes had once done.

  “No, Sergeant, it doesn’t,” Clay sighed. “Thanks for your help, by the way,” he added.

  “Sir, you’re in command,” Gleason replied. “You give orders, and I follow them. We all do and will. If I may, Lieutenant, you’re doing just fine. Keep on doing what you’re doing.”

  “Thank you again, Sergeant,” Clay managed to smile. “Remind me after this to tell you about a man named John.” He looked up the road at the sound of an approaching vehicle and saw a Hummer racing their way.

  “Will do, sir,” Gleason promised, using a hand gesture to order his men to stand by.

  The Hummer slid to a stop, Petra Shannon at the wheel. Clay decided she was an excellent driver and promised to use her more in that role, assuming they all lived through the day.

  The rear hatch popped out and Doc bailed out, waving for help. Two of Gleason’s men stepped forward and took Heath Kelly in hand, easing him out on a stretcher and moving at once to the clinic. The next two stepped forward and carefully removed the body of Corey Reynard. Tandi spoke quietly to them and the two nodded before moving inside. Clay felt another stab in his heart as he realized Corey was dead.

  “It was too much,” Tandi reported as he leaned against the Hummer. “The round took him under the arm, around his vest, and went straight through him. Like what happened to Shane a while back, but Shane’s was across the back. Corey’s was through the chest cavity.”

  “Damn these people,” Clay said through gritted teeth. “Damn them to hell and gone. I want them all dead.”

  “Works for me,” Tandi nodded easily. “What next?”

  “We left Gordy and Kurtis at Plum House,” Jose reported as he made it to the rear of the vehicle. “They were not overly happy with that but understood the need. Kevin and I are ready to go anywhere you need us, but you may want to keep Tandi to respond to other wounded. What do you want us to do?”

  “Wait here for the moment,” Clay told him. “I want to let the others settle into their new positions and see what happens. In the meantime, I want you to pull a pair of M240s and another pair of M249s. I want a 240 in each of the center emplacements across the road, and a 249 at the flanks, including on the hill. I sent Greg up there and he knows how to handle one. We’re outnumbered, so we’re going to have to depend on firepower rather than manpower.”

  “We’re on it,” Jose nodded, waving at Kevin Bodee to follow him. The two took off to gather the equipment their boss wanted.

  “Carrie is inside,” Clay told Tandi. “She apparently did very good. Had two wounded and three dead. You may want to check on her.”

  “Got it,” the little medic nodded, heading inside at a trot.

  “You got good people, sir,” Gleason waited until they were alone to speak. “You ain’t so bad yourself,” he added with a chuckle.

  “Thank you, Mister Gleason. I sincerely appreciate that.”

  “What sergeants is for, Lieutenant,” the older man assured him. “What sergeants is for.”

  -

  Patricia Sanders looked down at the bloody face of Corey Reynard, the blood in sharp contrast to the peaceful look on the teen’s face. She had known him since he was born and watched him grow alongside her own son. Grow into a fine young man with a heart bigger than he was. But he wouldn’t be growing anymore.

  “Pat,” Jaylyn Thatcher said gently. “We’ve got people who are still with us, including Heath.”

  “Right,” Patricia nodded, turning to where Heath Kelly was being placed on a table. “I’ll get him.”

  “No,” Jaylyn placed a hand on Patricia’s arm. “He’s too close to you, Pat. You look at Jena. Her wounds are a bit worse than Savannah’s, and Kate is already checking her out. You take Jena and let me handle Heath.”

  “Okay,” Patricia didn’t argue. She knew Jaylyn was right. But that didn’t make it better.

  -

  Leanne Tillman had been trapped into shelter duty at the start of the alert by virtue of being in the right place at the wrong time. School children flowing into the underground shelter with Dixie Jerrolds and Terri Hartwell and no one else. She had remained until Amy Mitchell, breath coming in gasps, had arrived with her rifle and gear, the shelter her assignment when the alert sounded. Leanne waited at the entrance until she was certain things were in order and then started for Operations. Once there, she decided to check on things in the clinic before checking in at Operations. The first thing she saw upon opening the door was the body of Corey Reynard laid out on the floor, hands folded over his chest.

  “Wha-” she tried to speak, but her throat closed on her. As she searched for her Aunt Patricia to ask what had happened to Corey, she saw Heath Kelly lying on a gurney, Jaylyn Thatcher cutting his uniform off him.

  “Heath?” she said aloud, stunned to see her boyfriend lying there. “Heath!”

  “Leanne,” Patricia tried to intercept her, but missed, the smaller Leanne evading her and moving to Heath’s side. Jaylyn was quicker and caught Leanne by the shoulders.

  “Leanne,” the doctor said softly. “Let us-”

  “What happened to him!” Leanne yelled, tears flowing down her face.

  “Leanne, calm down,” Patricia told her sternly. “Heath was shot, more than once. He needs immediate care, and you being here, doing this, is preventing that care. Now, I need you to go back outside, and I’m sure that Clay needs you wherever it is you’re supposed to be.”

  “I’m staying right-” Leanne began, but Patricia cut her off.

  “No, sweetie, you aren’t,” Patricia’s voice was kind, but iron firm. “We are under a major attack and need everyone doing their job! That includes you, Leanne. Now, Heath is getting the best of care we can provide, or was until you barged in. Let Jaylyn and I get back to work, and you do the same! Someone will need you sooner or later, and if you aren’t there then we might see even more people in here. Understand?”

  “Please, Leanne,” Thatcher’s voice was soft, out of character really for the tough Army surgeon. “We’ve lost too much already. Let me take care of him for you. I know how important he is to you, and I swear to you I will give him the best care that I possibly can. Okay? I swear.”

  Looking up at the doctor, Leanne slowly nodded. She reached out and took Heath’s hand, squeezing it once, then turned without another word and departed, leaving the clinic behind.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Sir, Corporal Tanner reports he has a casualty,” Raven Elliot called from within the Cougar. Gillis closed his eyes for a mere moment before snapping them back open.

  “Get going, then,” he ordered Elliot. “I’ll contact Operations and tell them we need an evac, and probably some help. Be careful,” he added as the medic grabbed her gear.

  “You got it, sir,” she flashed him a thumbs up before hitting the ground, running. Gillis picked up his radio. He could hear sounds of firing from his right, now, signaling that his other units were engaged. Only the center, where he sat blocking the road with his M-RAP, had avoided contact so far.

  “Operations, this is Gillis. Be advised we have at least one casualty and are engaged all along the line. Request evac for the wounded and, if possible, an extra fire team as a QRF. The numbers are heavily against us right now.”

  “Operations copies all, LT. Stand by one.”

  “One might be all we got,” Gillis murmured to himself, raising his binoculars to check his front. It was just him and Martin, now.

  -

  “Gillis ca
n’t give any ground,” Clay said aloud, looking once more at the map of the farm. “That line has to hold where it is.”

  “Send Kevin to help, with two of Sergeant Gleason’s men,” Jose suggested. “Doc can take Howard in the Hummer for the evac. And have Kev carry some heavier weapons. Maybe Mark 48s,” he shrugged. “We need more force multipliers.”

  “See to it, Jose,” Clay ordered with only a few seconds consideration. “Sergeant, pick a couple of guys to go with Kevin?” he asked kindly.

  “Of course, Lieutenant,” Gleason nodded at once. “We’re yours to command.” The NCO followed Jose out, leaving Clay staring at the map.

  “Where in the hell are these people coming from?” he wondered. He desperately wanted to know that. Where would there have been so many people as this, all eager to run into gunfire to attack the farm? It was almost unreal.

  The still forms of Corey Reynard and Stacey Pryor reminded him it was very real, indeed.

  -

  Thane Tanner had been under fire before, but never without the support he was trained to work with. He was accustomed to having armor and artillery to call on, and even air assets when the situation was bleak enough. What he had right now was a woman whose only claim to usefulness was good training and some experience as a constable. His teammate, Parnell Plank, was lying on the ground behind them, slowly bleeding out despite the best efforts of Raven Elliot, who Tanner firmly believed to be one of the best medics in his old regiment.

  “Thane, I don’t think he’s gonna make it,” Raven told him quietly during a lull in the shooting. “It’s too much damage. And the round to his helmet penetrated, even if it doesn’t look like it did.”

  “Just do what you can, Raven,” Tanner told her as he seated a new magazine in his rifle. “We’re supposed to have help on the way, including evac. Maybe the docs can help him.” With that he raised his rifle and began firing yet again. Beside him, Talia Gray was firing her Mini-14, picking off the front-line people moving against them. There was no doubt she could shoot, Tanner admitted. But things were about to get more than slightly real, and he had to wonder how she would deal with that.