by C A Bird
Two of the guards came up the road from the dock and turned around just past the barrels. “… the morning?”
“They brought the new recruits from the training base up north. It’ll be a piece of cake. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”
“What’s the deal with the Navy guys?”
“I’m not sure. We’ll…”
They continued back down the road to the dock, but Matthew now knew he was right about the attack on the town. With the recruits, they probably had over three hundred, well-armed soldiers. The military offensive would soon begin.
The sun had set, and Matthew was starting to crawl out of his hiding place, when the sound of a motorboat drifted in from the west. It grew louder and then cut out, as the boat drifted to the dock. Watching the dock, he noticed a group of airmen coming toward the barrels. It was too late to escape out the back, toward the dunes on the south, so he squeezed back in amongst the center barrels.
Sounds of a commotion reached him while he was pinned down by the airmen who were filling a can from one of the barrels. He was frozen in place, almost holding his breath as the yelling grew closer.
“Please, you can’t do this. Your commander’s crazy. You guys can’t seriously support what they’re doing.”
“Shut up Teller. We do what we’re told. We’re on the side of might, my friend. You should have kept your mouth shut.”
“How can anyone keep quiet about this massacre. You can’t destroy whole regions of this country. They’re Americans, for Christ’s sake.”
“I just know I’m on the winning side.”
Matthew peeked between some of the barrels and caught a glimpse of Mark, surrounded by Air Force personnel. Mark suddenly made a break, shoving two men aside as he tried to run up the incline. One of the soldiers swung the stock of his rifle, catching Mark in the side and knocking him to the ground. Matthew almost gave away his position but discipline kept him rooted in place. Being greatly outnumbered, trying to rescue Mark at this time would have been suicide. By the time the men finished filling the Jerry Can, Mark had been driven away in the jeep.
Disappointed, he slipped out of the barrels, jogged south and then turned east to run the two miles to his vantage point above the compound. He had no idea where they were holding him. All he could do was keep watching and hope for a clue.
***
Pacing back and forth in the cramped room, Mark felt like a caged panther. The one tiny window in the back wall was too small to wriggle through. He tried the door a dozen times and kicked at the wallboard on all sides of his prison.
He was trapped.
Blood had run down his face and soaked his light blue shirt, leaving dark stains down his chest. It was now dry and crusted, making the shirt stiff. He was wearing a collarless T-shirt, due to the weather, and it emphasized the biceps and triceps he’d built up by performing hard, physical labor for the past two years. He’d wiped his arm across his face, smearing the blood through his stubble. He looked like a wild man, ready to tear apart anyone who dared to enter the room.
Only five hours left to prevent a catastrophe. His friends and loved ones would all be annihilated in the blink of an eye. He paced. He pounded at the door, but his efforts were unrewarded. He patted his pockets, hoping for something he could use to escape. They had searched him and taken his knife, but left him with his magnesium fire starter. I’ll burn the place down if I have to, he thought. He hit the striker on the bar of magnesium several times in frustration and stuck it back in his pocket.
A tiny noise behind him brought him abruptly around, but darkness was complete and he couldn’t see a thing. There was a cracking and a tinkling of glass from the window. “Mark,” a voice whispered.
He leapt to the window and tried to see who was out in the darkness. One of the four panes had been shattered, glass cascading to the floor. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Matthew.”
“Jesus, Matthew. How did you find me? Can you get me outta here?”
“I saw flashes from your fire starter. The window’s too small for you to fit through. I’ll need to try something else.”
“You have to do something. They’re going to nuke New Mexico! The president is crazy, and sees conspiracies in people just trying to survive and make their own way.”
“The President of the U.S.?”
“Yes. Rissman. He wants a dictatorship and the Commander of Vandenberg is his lackey. You need to try and get to Richard Dombrowski, the captain of a nuclear sub, anchored off an oil rig seven miles at sea. He’s the one with the nukes. He needs to be convinced not to fire those missiles. Rissman wants him to hit Atlanta and Idaho as well. He’s crazy, Matthew. We have to stop him.”
Nukes? “How do I get to the rig?”
“There’s a powerboat at the docks.”
“If I can get you out of here, we can make the attempt together. Derek is a hundred yards away from here. We’ll think of something.”
“Listen, Matthew. You have to get to Lori. Take her and the kids to the aircraft hangar and hide them in back. Tell her if you can get me out of here we’ll meet her there. Bring Jimbo, and all our people, even Sheri and her family, if they’ll come. Packer and his troops are going to invade the town in the morning. Derek knows how to fly. He told me one day. If I don’t get there, have him fly Lori and the kids to safety. Please, Matthew, do this for me.”
“I’m going to get you out of here, and you can fly them away.”
“First, we have to get to Dombrowski, to stop the nuke attack. Get back to town and get Lori, then come back and we’ll make the attempt to get to the sub.” Mark completely filled him in on the rest of the situation, including the planned attack on the town.
“Please, you need to let them know.”
“I’ll return, my friend.”
***
Lori woke the children and hastily helped them to dress. Matthew had knocked on her door and her heart had leaped into her throat, as the only reason she could think of for a visit in the middle of the night, was that something had happened to Mark.
The household was awake, Carla putting on coffee and Doug going out into the night to alert his neighbors and the Council. Voices awoke Jimbo and he rolled off the couch onto the floor.
“What’s goin’ on?” he murmured.
“The military is planning to attack the town at dawn,” Matthew informed them, when all were present. “Mark has been taken captive, but Derek and I are going back to try and spring him.”
Lori gasped, “What happened? What did he do?”
“There’s apparently a nuclear sub moored off of an oil rig out in the ocean. It still has nuclear missiles.”
“You gotta be kidding me.”
“Are you serious?”
“Mark knows the captain of the sub. They and the Air Force commander have been in contact with Jeremy Rissman.”
“The president?”
“You gotta be kidding me.”
“No, Jimbo, I’m not kidding.”
“Apparently, Rissman has declared Martial Law. He’s trying to get the country back together. Only problem is, he’s using the military to round up people, and putting them in FEMA camps, making them work to rebuild. He’s separating families.”
“What happened to Mark?”
“I think he pissed off the president. He refused to go to West Virginia to join Rissman’s Administration. He said he thought what Rissman was doing was wrong.”
“That sucks. What are we gonna do?”
“It gets worse. He’s appointed the Vandenberg Commander to be the supreme leader of the west. That’s why he’s attacking Lompoc, to bring the civilians under military control. There are some areas of the country that don’t want to join with him. He’s ordered the sub commander to nuke them.”
“What? That’s impossible.”
“You gotta be kidding me.”
“Where are they going to hit?” Lori asked.
“Three targets. Idaho and Atlanta, and�
��” He looked her in the eye, and she knew the answer. Mark had antagonized the president and he was going to make him pay.
“It’s New Mexico, isn’t it?”
Matthew nodded.
The room erupted. “We need to warn them!”
“What can we do?”
“When?”
“We’re going to get Mark out of there and try to reason with the sub captain, if we can get to him. Otherwise, Mark wants Lori and the kids to get to the hangar with the old biplane. If he can get there, he’ll fly them out, and the rest of us will get back across country. We’ll go to Farmington. Rissman doesn’t know about it. Maybe we can get them to prepare to fight back.”
“What if he can’t get to the hangar?”
“Derek knows how to fly a small plane. He will fly you out.”
“Well, I won’t go.”
“Lori, be reasonable. Mark has asked us to do this. We all need to respect his wishes. This town is being hit at dawn.”
“We can help them fight.”
“I’m not sure they want to resist. We need to get back and alert Farmington. Skillet, get the wagon and take Lori and the kids to the airport. Mike and Jimbo, go with them for protection. Sheri, we’d like you to go back with us, and of course your aunt and uncle, as well. Otherwise you may end up as slaves.”
“Thank you Matthew,” Carla told him, “but I’m sure that Doug will agree. This is our home and community, and it is our fight, and we will see it through. But Sheri should go with you.”
“I’m staying.”
“Lori, please get ready to go. Mark will go to the airport and if you aren’t there, what’s going to happen?” We need to get back to the base. Good luck to all of you.” He whirled and ran out front. He and Derek rode away as the others stood immobile in shock.
Lori was the first to react. “Come on everyone. Let’s get moving.”
***
The next two hours were the longest of Mark’s life. In stygian darkness he waited for Matthew to return. He paced, and thought of all the friends he had in Willsburg. He thought of Chris and tears ran down his cheeks. He imagined her incinerated by a nuclear bomb, after being miraculously spared the first time around.
Suddenly gunfire erupted in the distance. “What the hell?” Mark ran over and put his ear against the door.
The door burst inward, almost knocking him down. “Mr. Teller. Follow me.”
Mark jumped into the hallway and, from the feeble light of the oil lamp, saw an ensign and two seamen standing with their backs to the wall. They turned to the right and started to head down the hallway when airmen came around the corner at the far end behind them. A loud crack of a rifle, deafening in the long hallway, blew away the entire lantern, throwing burning oil down the wall and onto the tile. The fire crept up the wall. Mark threw himself back against the wall alongside the door.
“Come on, man. We need to get out of here.” The ensign grabbed his arm and pulled him toward a door at the back end of the corridor, away from the airmen with the rifle. Muzzle flashes lit up the end of the corridor beyond the spreading fire and the two airman stepped into the middle of the hallway and fired in their direction. One of the men shouted and dropped to the floor, as bullets tore into his chest.
“Who are you guys?”
“I’m Cross. The captain sent us to free you. Come on!”
“Wait!” Mark swept up the rifle and swung around to follow the ensign out the back.
“Ensign Carter, come on!” Cross yelled.
More rounds flew all around them, tearing chips of wood and drywall from the walls. Smoke was beginning to fill the corridor and visibility was becoming limited. Just as they reached the door, it was flung open.
“Hold it. You’re not going anywhere Teller.”
It was Lieutenant Colonel Whittinghall, and three others, all with weapons pointed in through the doorway. The colonel raise his assault rifle and shot Cross in the face, knocking him off his feet and sending gore backwards over Ensign Carter, who was still firing back down the hallway. Whittinghall raised his weapon toward Mark’s face and smiled. Then the smile disappeared as the colonel, shock upon his face, looked down at an iron arrow protruding from his chest.
Mark fired twice and two of the others went down. The third fell as shots came from the rear of the building, and Mark turned to grab Carter, pulling him out of the barracks and around the corner. Matthew and Derek ran up to them, Mark having to shove the young man’s rifle up, to prevent him from shooting either of his friends.
“They’re on our side, kid. Listen. We need to get to Captain Dombrowski and tell him you guys freed me and stop him from firing those missiles at American Communities. How did you get here?”
“We stole their jeep. There’s two more guys guarding it. The captain could only spare the five of us. Come on, we can go around the back.” There was a crashing sound and flames blasted out of the door, bathing the surrounding area, and the men, in orange light, as Mark and the others threw their arms up to protect their faces from the searing heat.
They ran around the back of the building and sprinted the length of the barracks, rounding the other corner to see a fire fight going on in the parking lot. The only light was from the headlights of the jeep and the raging fire that had fully engulfed the building. Mark could hear the screams of men that had been quartered in the barracks and now had no avenue of escape from the inferno.
The two Navy men, crouching alongside the jeep, went down in a barrage of fire. A figure came out of the darkness, jumped over a body, and leaped into the jeep.
“No... stop him!” Mark shouted. But the jeep was speeding across the parade field toward the Command Center.
“Shit! Come on. We need to get to the boat. Mark heard hoof beats and turned to see Matthew and Derek bearing down on them, riding Chief and Jasper. He hadn’t even noticed them leaving, as he and Carter had run behind the barracks.
Matthew stuck out his hand and Mark swung up behind him. Only Chief was strong enough to take that kind of maneuver. Derek reined Jasper in and the seaman put his foot in the stirrup as Derek pulled him up behind him. He kicked the horse and Jasper galloped off after Chief who was rapidly drawing away toward the west.
Bullets, fired randomly in the dark, flew around them as they quickly outdistanced the enemy. It was pitch black now and they had to slow to a walk to ensure the horses didn’t trip or step in a hole. Mark chaffed as their time was running out.
Moving through the darkness as fast as possible, they reached Coast Road in twenty minutes. Mark never realized how important the moon was for getting around at night. They dismounted and left Jasper tied to a bush, while Chief’s reins were left to dangle if needed for a quick get-away.
They snuck over to the south dune, and then using the barrels for cover, made it most of the way to the dock.
“There’s no light,” Seamen Carter whispered. “The dock is always lit.”
The four men, weapons ready, crossed the concrete walkway that lay perpendicular to the wooden dock. They moved out onto the wooden dock, straining to see.
“Where are the guards?” Carter asked. It was minimally lighter down by the water as the ocean gave off its phosphorescent glow, and they could see the moorings.
The boats were gone.
***
“Come on Mark, there’s nothing more we can do.” Matthew tugged at Mark’s arm.
“There must be another way to get out there.”
Seaman Carter cleared his throat. “Mr. Teller. The captain said to get you out but that he didn’t think we’d be able to get back to the rig. He told me ‘good luck and have a nice life’.”
Mark was devastated. “What are we going to do?”
Matthew actually raised his voice, which got Mark’s attention. “We need to get to the airport and get you guys out of here. The rest of us will follow by land. Get to Farmington and warn Hunt and the others. Mark, there’s a storm coming and we need to be ready.”
Ma
rk nodded numbly and turned toward the horses with the others.
“I recommend we head south and then east. That keeps us away from the base.” Matthew gave a soft whistle and Chief came out of the darkness. Jasper whinnied softly, unhappy at being alone. They mounted up and followed Matthew’s lead.
Mist rose up from the bog and fog rolled in off the ocean. Visibility was poor and they hoped they were going in the right direction.
As they rode through the wetlands along the south edge of the base, they suddenly heard the roar of engines and three vehicles flew over the ridge a mile to the north, their headlights penetrating the fog.
“How did they find us?” Mark said in Matthew’s ear.
“I don’t think they know we’re here. I think they’re heading for Lompoc.”
Mark didn’t realize that the night had fled, but soon saw a rosy glow in the east. The lighting improved by the minute as they rode through the muck. One of the vehicles bogged down and had to return to the fence line to find higher ground.
Figures came out of the mist, hundreds of them.
The war was on!
They were now clearly visible to the invaders. An old, troop carrier changed its heading to try and cut them off and behind the carrier, a jeep sped directly toward them. With the improving light, they increased their speed and turned more to the south, but it was still a few miles to the town and the airport. Carrying double, the horses were tiring, and Mark knew it was only a matter of time before the jeep caught them. He swung up his rifle, ready to fire when the jeep got closer.
He heard an engine and an Indian war whoop off to their right. Jimbo’s motorcycle flew by, a hundred yards in front of them, with Jimbo firing rapidly at the troop carrier. He was aiming at the tires and Mark saw mud flung up as bullets hit the ground all around them. Finally, Jimbo pulled up on the bike, slammed home a second magazine, took careful aim, and fired off ten rounds. The front right tire blew, and the vehicle almost turned over as the flattened tire sunk in the mud.
