by Hunt, Jack
“Why didn’t they just meet us in Irondale?” Lucius asked. “That’s where they’re from, right?”
Arianna threw up a hand. “I’m just following instructions. Let’s go,” she said, dropping the tailgate on the back of the truck and letting them out. Hughes Mountain rose up 380 feet above the floodplain of the Big River. Arianna gave them the rundown on the history of the area as they double-timed it up the trail using the log markers to make their way to the top. All around them was thick woodland with little undergrowth. There were glades to the eastern and southern slopes full of grass and wildflowers. Miles scanned the terrain, looking up toward the peak of exposed rock. It was a short hike but steep, passing by multiple boulders to reach the highest point on Hughes Mountain. The rhyolite formation known as the Devil’s Honeycomb was covered with moss and lichens. It was unlike anything he’d seen. The columnar jointing made it look as if a giant boulder had been shattered and spread across the top.
“This is unusual,” Scarlett said as they hopped from one boulder to the next.
“It was formed by lava flow 1.4 billion years ago,” Arianna said without looking at the rest of the group. She forged on leading the way.
9
As they got closer to the top, Miles could see the silhouette of a group of armed men spread out across the ridge. There had to be close to thirty. Some were crouched, peering through binoculars focused on the surrounding woodland, while the rest waited for their arrival. If it wasn’t for the light coming from a crescent moon revealing their silhouettes, they wouldn’t have been able to see them as Arianna had been told not to use flashlights.
Precautions. Everyone was on edge with the recent retaliation by the PLA.
Wearing only black uniforms, their attire was typical: tactical pants, ankle military boots, flak jackets loaded with magazines, gloves, helmets, face masks, and goggles to conceal their identities. They almost looked like riot police.
Each of them was rocking a Colt M4 Carbine.
As they got closer, Miles noticed they were sporting shoulder patches with the symbol of a red cross. One of them stepped forward, hand out. Arianna shook it.
“Arlo.”
“Arianna. Where’s the rest of you?” he asked looking past her.
“This is it,” she replied.
His gaze washed over them. “You promised an army, and you send me a few soldiers?” His tone became cold.
“Under the circumstances, this is all we can give you.”
Give? Miles’ trigger finger touched the metal, unsure of what she meant. So much of the way she led was shrouded by mystery. Had she told them the whole truth or was she withholding because she figured no one would follow her if she was upfront with what she wanted?
Arlo continued. “Under the circumstances? Did you not say you rescued over a hundred people from that airport? Did you not say you had over two hundred in your camp?”
“Yes I did but they are not soldiers, Arlo. They are ordinary people.”
“So are my men.”
“You know what I mean.”
“They can shoot a rifle, can’t they?” he asked.
“You assume they can.”
“Then why have you not trained them?”
“We can train and we are, but training them to control fear, training them to risk their lives, that is another thing entirely,” she said. “Understand, many of these people have had their children slaughtered in front of them. They are in no condition to head into battle.”
He snorted as if finding her reply amusing.
His eyes fell upon Miles. “Is this him?”
Arianna cast a glance and nodded.
He scoffed as he looked him up and down. “Definitely not what I imagined.” Miles thought he would go into some spiel and pepper him with questions like others had but instead, he turned back to Arianna and continued, “This has got to be a joke.”
“You wanted assistance in return for assistance, this is what I can offer.”
He looked at them all. “No, the deal is off!” He turned as did the rest of his men but Arianna wasn’t about to accept that.
“Leave if you want but there will come a time you will need our help and don’t think I won’t remember this.”
He turned in an instant. “Lady, let’s make something clear. All the help we need comes from the good Lord.”
“If that was so, you wouldn’t be asking for an army, now would you?”
“Remember, we are doing you a favor, not the other way around. It was you who sought us out. It was you who begged Darius for help.”
She chuckled. “Beg? You are deluded.”
He adjusted his grip on the rifle and looked as if he was about to raise it at her when Miles lifted his. Immediately, rifles were pointed and there was a tense moment as they stared each other down. “Hunter. You might have convinced the PLA that you are a ghost but trust me, squeeze that trigger and I will make it a reality.”
Arianna lifted a hand and Miles lowered his rifle.
There were a few more tense seconds.
“All right,” Arlo said, nodding slowly. “We received intel that Darius is alive.”
“Alive?” Arianna turned to the others to explain. “Darius Rigby is the leader of the Watchmen. He was one of the twelve that went to Springfield. Assumed dead.” She looked back at him.
Arlo was quick to correct her. “He wasn’t just one of the twelve, he was the one that brought them together. The only visionary that can see a way out of this hell. Without him, the resistance may fall apart.”
“He’s just a man,” Miles said.
“As are you, Hunter,” Arlo replied. “And I hear a valuable one at that.”
Miles frowned then thought about what Owen, who’d strung him up, had said. How much was this bounty on his head? And who else might be inclined to collect on it?
“How can you be sure Darius is alive?” Arianna asked.
“We have a reliable source.”
“And where does your source say he is?”
“We don’t have an exact location. He was last seen near Branson.”
She looked confused. “Militia met in Springfield. What was he doing that far south?”
“I can’t discuss that.”
She nodded and smiled. “You know, Arlo. All this mystery surrounding Darius and this meeting tonight is another reason why there aren’t more of us. I’m lucky these folks agreed to go with me. Now I’ve been very forthright in what we can offer but if you’re going to hold back I can’t help you.”
He took a step forward, closing the gap between him and her.
“Until we can be sure you can be trusted, neither can we.” He glanced at them all, then back at his men. “There were only a few people who knew about the Springfield meeting, even fewer who knew the location. Someone among us has been leaking intel to the PLA. There is no other way they could have known.”
“And you think that’s me?”
Arlo shrugged. “You, your friends, someone else, I don’t know but until I find out, you will receive information on a need to know basis, and right now, all you need to know is that Darius is alive and to ensure that we win this war, we need to extract him from the hot zone.”
“And if he’s not there?”
“Then may God help us!”
Arianna gave him an incredulous look. She looked strangely comfortable as she rolled her head around her shoulders and adjusted her grip on her rifle. Miles glanced at Gunnar. Had he been wrong about her? Sure, her leadership methods were up for debate but where she lacked in trust she made up for it in confidence.
“And this source of yours?” Arianna asked.
“A collaborator out of Branson. Goes by the name Lorenzo.”
“You trust him?”
“I don’t trust anyone but Lorenzo and our militia have history. He’s not failed us yet.”
She nodded, glancing out across the dark horizon. “Well, you can be assured if he’s out there, we’ll find him.” Sh
e turned to Gunnar, Miles, and the others. “Arlo’s men will see to it that you get there safely. I’m heading back to camp.”
She went to walk by, but Gunnar grabbed her by the arm. “A word with you.”
Arlo and his men strolled off, giving them some privacy.
“I thought we were in this together?” he asked.
“We are, but I have people who rely on me back at camp.”
“As do we. Why didn’t you tell us what he wanted?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I only found out tonight.” She looked over at Arlo who was now facing away from them. “Listen, I’ve been working with local militia for the better part of two years, trying to work out the kinks and get them to trust one another and work together toward the same cause. Sometimes I have to go out on a limb. This is one of those times.”
“And yet it’s not you who’s out on that limb. We are,” Gunnar said. “No. If you’re heading back to the camp. So am I.”
Arianna gave him a steely gaze then looked at Miles. “I know you don’t trust me, Gunnar, and I don’t blame you but if you think watching me twenty-four seven is going to help — you are very mistaken. I am not the enemy and I’m not working with them. Now if you want to come back, by all means, but that means there will be one less of you out there.”
“Then that’s the way it must be.” He turned back to Miles. “Are you comfortable with this?”
“No, but then, have I ever been?” Miles replied.
“True.” Gunnar nodded. “Look, if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Lucius chimed in as he strolled over full of swagger. “Of course, you could sit this one out, Miles, and let the big boys play.” Lucius stepped up to the plate with a grin. “I filled your shoes one time; I think I can do it again.”
Miles shook his head. “Dear God, do you not have an off switch?”
“Yeah, it’s right here,” he said grabbing his crotch.
Scarlett threw in her two cents. “Go with Arianna, we’ll be fine.”
Gunnar looked hesitant but Miles knew that letting go of the lone wolf demeanor was hard for him. They’d already spoken about leaving the group as Gunnar still believed that it was premature to align themselves with local militia.
“Are we good?” Arianna asked as if waiting to see if anyone else planned on leaving. Scarlett hadn’t seen any of the action yet and Miles could tell she was hoping no one would hold her back. Each of them gave a nod. “Okay. Arlo. Whenever you’re ready. They’ll go with you.”
Arlo made his way over. He addressed Miles. “Good. Just remember, Hunter, don’t kill this collaborator before we get the chance to find out where Darius is.”
“What?”
“Well, I heard what you did to Demar.”
Miles’ brow furrowed. “Demar killed himself.”
“I heard you made it look that way,” he said, shaking his head before whistling to one of his guys who was peering out through a pair of binoculars. “Snow. Introduce these folks to Tex and load them up.”
A crouched man turned and strolled over. He was unusual looking, different from the rest. His skin was paler. He had albinism, a lack of pigmentation in the eyes, skin, and hair. “Follow me.”
Gunnar squeezed Miles’ shoulder. “Stay safe out there.”
“See you soon.”
He watched them stroll off into the night, just the two of them, while the rest followed Snow. Miles hurried to catch up.
“Don’t mind Arlo. He tends to be a little high strung. You’ll get used to him,” Snow said.
“I don’t plan on being around him long enough,” Miles replied. “Look, uh, what’s your name?”
“Snow.”
“No, I know they’ve given you that name because…” He almost didn’t want to say it as if he might offend him.
“My skin? Oh, it’s fine. I’ve heard far worse.”
“Still, I’d prefer to call you by your name.”
“All right then. It’s Imanifeechikalifabankole.”
The name rolled off his tongue with ease but caused Miles to get tongue-tied.
Miles nodded. “Snow it is.”
Snow laughed as he led him over the ridge and down to a flat expanse where three UH-60 Black Hawks were waiting.
“So that’s why they wanted us all the way up here. How did you manage to lay your hands on these?”
“The same way the Chinese have — stealing.” He tapped Miles on the shoulder. “Let me introduce you to Tex. Be warned, he’s a bit of a handful, and whatever you do, don’t say anything about his right eye.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
They came around the front end of one of the helicopters to find a huge guy up on the side examining the rotor blades with a small flashlight in his mouth and a tool in hand.
“Hey Tex, I’ve got your passengers.”
He dropped the tool, it clattered and bounced off the side of the metal.
Tex cursed loudly.
Snow chuckled. “You okay there?”
He stepped down, his face illuminated by the light from a stubby cigar. His right eye looked absolutely fine. What was Snow talking about?
“Well I’m madder than a wet hen but what’s new?” Tex squinted. “Who you got there?’
That’s when Miles got a better look at him. Unlike the others who wore military gear, he looked out of place wearing cowboy boots, a cowboy hat, a blue bandanna around his neck, and a double shoulder holster that held two guns.
He stepped forward and looked them over. Miles noticed his one eye moved but the right eye didn’t. Ah, it was false.
“Hey kid, you stare any longer you might as well take a picture!”
“Sorry,” Miles muttered before extending a hand. “I’m…”
“Miles Arrington,” Tex said interrupting him. “I know who you are.”
That was the second time a stranger had addressed him by that name. His name must have been doing the rounds. “Heard the PLA put quite the price tag on your head,” he said getting close. “To be honest, I considered collecting it myself.” He blew smoke in his face and Miles coughed. Then he burst out laughing. “I’m just jerking your chain, kid. Glad to have you. And who is this beauty!?” he asked, looking at Scarlett then taking her hand and kissing the top. She flashed her pearly whites and darted a look at Miles before introducing herself.
“Scarlett,” Tex replied. “You are quite the doll. If I was twenty years younger I would chase you all over this mountain.” He dropped his cigar and crushed it under his boot, and with that, he was back to yelling orders. “All right, folks. Hop in. We don’t have all night.”
“We’re going up in those?”
“How else do you expect to get to Branson? Walk?” He laughed.
Scarlett went to get in and was instructed to go to the next helicopter, as was Lucius. Only one of the militia from Arianna’s group joined Miles in the first helicopter. His pilot was Tex. Tex began clapping his hands. “C’mon, people, we got a lot of ground to cover and I’m getting hungry. Y’all know what happens when I get hungry.”
“You get pissy,” Snow replied as they got inside. There were four seats facing each other. Snow sat across from him while the other seats were filled by Arlo’s men.
“Thank you, Snow,” Tex said. He hopped in, looked above him, and flicked a few switches. The engine roared to life, a high-pitched whine. Tex began doing a couple of last checks before the rotors kicked in, whipping up dirt around them.
“You been flying long?” Miles yelled over his shoulder.
“Since I was a sperm in my father’s sack,” he replied. “That’s why I’m alive!”
The thump of the rotors got louder before the helicopter lifted and broke away from the mountain. Miles looked out but all he could see was a blanket of darkness smothering the landscape. A nervous twinge formed in the pit of his stomach, questions, uncertainty. Trusting people was hard and even more so
when he was thousands of feet in the air.
10
Morgan Jefferies
Camdenton
The FLIR technology was mounted on the bottom of the helicopter and had provided back crystal-clear visual and thermal activity. It was proof that not only were they on track but that he was more than capable of the job bestowed upon him by the General.
Morgan’s shoulders relaxed, feeling a sense of achievement and relief. It had been a hellish month of pounding the streets for answers but finally, he could see a light at the end of the tunnel. Yong had been riding him for results since the raid on the airport and he was about to deliver a manifesto of brilliance to him.
He could already hear the praise now.
Glasses full of bubbly clinking.
A line of coke waiting for him to snort.
And an endless line of curvy women ready to tend to his needs. It was glorious, and a well-deserved reward for all his hard work.
Instead of sending troops or Santiago’s men to Jacob’s Cave, they’d opted to use technology. The police used it. Search crews used it, and so did the military, and yet at no point had anyone else since the war done so.
The resistance was used to a helicopter or two leaving the airport and flying over the region. Seeing another would only garner the same attention as before, except this bird was different.
It had been Santiago’s idea to strap a thermal camera to the bottom. Why the PLA hadn’t done this sooner was beyond him but Santiago said it was a matter of resources, they had their hands full, that’s why he’d netted himself a tidy profit handling tasks like this. He did the dirty work that others didn’t have the time for.
Still, small group or not, it had been this rabble that had inflicted the most damage, at least in Camden County. He also knew that left unattended they would grow in size, confidence, and eventually overthrow Camdenton. That couldn’t happen. There was more at stake than American lives. There was no way on God’s green earth he wanted to fall under the rule of the resistance. No, that strike on the nation had been both a blessing and a curse.
