by J. B. Craig
There were shouts of “No!” and “You can’t do this!”
“I can, and I will,” Hardy said. “America is not dead. We have our leadership in a secure location. This is a legal order, and failure to adhere can be considered treason. Now, please get out your IDs and hand them over to me, one by one. You first,” he said, pointing at Jonah, who, after looking at his father, handed it over.
“Marines, once again we have some people slinking away,” Hardy said. “Please go grab them and bring their ID’s to me. You all should know that we have been instructed to keep you here with force, if necessary. Okay, son,” he said to Jonah. “You’re only seventeen, please move to back with the civilians.”
Three of the young men from the barricade defense team were of age. The men who had been trying to escape weren’t on the defense team, but they were on at least one work team and knew how to use a weapon. The recruits were brought in front of Chief. “Is this all of them?” he asked.
Maria’s heart was in her throat. Neither Reid nor Bannon had their ID, and both looked young enough that the DHS didn’t seem to bother fighting them on it. She didn’t see Pete around - she hoped against hope that he’d stayed in the boat, or somehow escaped the notice of the Marines. Though he wasn’t from the community, she didn’t think Hardy would hesitate to round him up.
“No sir, this is my whole group,” Chief said. “You know how it goes. A lot of our kids went to college out of town or even out of state, or they were working in the cities. Some even are out of the country. You know, study abroad programs, Peace Corps, all that crap.” The Chief shrugged. “We’re working with what we’ve got.”
“Thank you, soldier,” Hardy said. “Now, I am instructed to issue one ounce of gold to each individual’s family who is being drafted. Gunny here will do that. They will get full military pay in gold, which we can give to your soldier to transport home when possible, or you can pick it up. These cards entitle you to enter any military base and determine the status of your son’s pay. With that, enjoy the MREs, guns and ammunition. We’re okay for supplies - we just need the men. Looks like we got a nice haul for one small community, Gunny!”
The Gunny was obviously irritated by his impersonal demeanor, but he ordered his Marines and the new recruits onto the boat. The DHS captain followed them and motioned for Gunny to hurry the process up.
Gunny walked over and shook the hand of every family member, placing a gold American Eagle in their hands. “Your country thanks you for your families’ service,” he said to each. After giving each family time to say their goodbyes, he shook the Chief’s hand. “Keep this peninsula safe, and you’ll all have done your part.”
As the Gunny was boarding the ramp, Reid ran over. “Gunny!” he shouted. “You say that you’re going to clear out Baltimore with these troops?”
“Yes, son, we are,” he agreed.
“Then sign me up,” Reid said. “I turned eighteen a few days ago, and - well, it’s not like they’ll be sending me my form any time soon. I want to go take back our city.”
Uncle Timmy yelled “No, son!” as Gunny came back out with Reid. “Sir, if your son is eighteen, we can use him. He looks like a strong fighter. I’ll give you a moment to say your goodbyes.”
“Dad, you know I can help keep these guys on the boat alive, and you know I’m going to Baltimore sooner or later,” Reid said. “Having a squad of our brothers at my back will be much better. You knew I was always going to enlist after high school, and - you know that staying here without Mom is killing me.”
Timmy heaved a defeated sigh. He held his son at arm’s length for a moment, and then pulled him in for a crushingly tight hug. “You find Mom, and bring her back to me ASAP. We’ll try to stay in touch on the HAM Radio. If you get a chance - you know our broadcast station and times. Now say goodbye to your brother and cousin.”
Bannon had tears in his eyes and couldn’t do anything but hug his brother and nod. Maria hugged him and told him she was proud. After a last round of goodbye’s, Reid headed to the boat and began to walk up the ramp. He looked over his shoulder to see Jonah being restrained by his father. He waved at he was ushered to a place in the back of the boat and Jonah screamed “Fucking Bullshit”.
Gunny walked over and gave two gold coins to Uncle Timmy. “For his honesty.” Uncle Timmy cringed at the painful irony that each of them had lied, one son to go and another to stay. “I’ll keep an eye on him and try to keep the team together as a squad. Shouldn’t be a problem, especially with some strong Dragon leadership.”
With that, Gunny spun on his heel, the ramp slowly beginning to close as he stepped onto it. The boat backed out, spun once past the channel, and headed out, presumably to the next community.
Maria put her face in her hands. Pete and Bannon were safe, but she’d lost her youngest cousin. “If only we hadn’t gone sailing today!” she cried.
“Not true, Maria!” scolded the Chief. “They were always going to come here. The Dragons’ fame means they knew they’d find lots of prospects here. It’s a good thing you did sail and warned us, or they might have come up to the defenses and taken more of our boys.” Jonah shook free of his dad’s bear hug and stomped off to the gate, taking an M16 from one of the younger boys. “Mine. I’ve got seniority, Joey. Dad will hook you up with something else.”
The dejected community members carried the goods to the firehouse, where they found Pete, who was ordered to the firehouse by the Chief as soon as they landed. Others who’d been out defending the perimeter were surprised by the loss of their friends. There would need to be some big shoes to fill on night shift, as one of the fiercest dragons had just flown away with a squad of fellow dragons.
Bannon walked into the woods to start his shift early. Maria knew he’d be in pain after losing both his mother and his brother to the conflict - for many months, if not for good. She’d have to check on him later.
Uncle Timmy, after a few words with the Chief, took the night off. He spent the rest of the day and all of the night in his room. With limited people to fill the night shift back out, Maria took up her station in the woods with a brand-new M16. Her dad had one, so when she showed proficiency quickly, she was told it was hers.
18. The New Normal
After her day shift and dinner, Maria went back to Reid’s bunk to crash. Though, with Reid’s enlistment, she guessed it was her bed for now. No more ‘hot-cot’ for her.
Having a gun under her bunk and hot-cotting it made her think of one of her dad’s old Army stories. She laughed out loud, and the sound must have carried - Pete poked his head into her room. “What’s so funny?”
I was just thinking about a story my Dad told me once about a wild boar walking into his tent while he was zipped in a sleeping bag, with his gun under the bunk. I can’t tell it like he does, but he barely was able to not shit himself as he looked down on the tusks of a boar eating his breakfast.
Pete burst out laughing. Suddenly, Uncle Timmy poked his head into the room. “Maria, you telling him the boar story?”
“Yep. Just the high-level part. I want dad to tell it to him the right way.” Maria gave him a tentative smile - she hadn’t meant to interrupt his solitude, but it was good to see him up and around. “Was missing my hot-cotting buddy,” she admitted.
Timmy gave her a rueful smile, coming to sit on the bunk next to her. “Your Dad is the kind of person who doesn’t believe in letting the truth get in the way of a good story,” he began, “But I’ve heard him tell that story so many times, so consistently, that I eventually believed that it happened.”
Maria reached over to give him a hug. “Sorry if we were too loud,” she said.
Timmy immediately waved a hand. “No, no. We all need to laugh and smile as much as we can. Reid was confident that he made the right choice to go.” With a heavy sigh, he said, “I miss my son, but I’m proud of him. I wasn’t going to get in his way. Bannon and I will just have to hold the fort here until Reid can bring his mother home to us.
”
With a groan, Timmy stood, popping stiff joints. “Alright, kids. I’m off to my shift. You have a good night and a good sleep.” With that, he walked out the front door, rifle in hand.
As soon as he left, Maria’s shoulders sagged, her face falling. “You okay?” Pete said.
“Exhausted,” she said, wiping a hand over her face. “Depressed. Tired of losing people.”
Pete nodded sympathetically. “If you want to talk,” he said gently, “I’ve been told I’m a decent listener. But we should probably sit out on the porch. These walls are pretty thin.”
Maria shook her head. “Not tonight, but it’s sweet of you to offer. Sorry for whining at you,” she said with a lopsided smile. “I’ll feel a little better after I get some sleep, I hope.”
“Well, I’m feeling a little blue myself,” Pete admitted. “I’m going to grab my sneakers and try to run it off. If you wanna come with, I’ll race you!”
Maria thought about it - she was tired, but Pete was right. She wasn’t physically tired, just emotionally exhausted, and sometimes it was tough for her to sleep restfully if she had one without the other. “You’ll probably kick my ass,” she warned. “I’m in okay shape, but I’m not much of a runner, and you have longer legs.”
Pete beamed at her as she slid on her tennis shoes. “Practice makes perfect,” he said. “C’mon. Lots of flat roads around here. We can do a little circuit.”
That night was the first of many nightly runs for Maria and Pete. They liked to jog around the corners and sprint the straightaways - Maria would laugh as Pete would exaggeratedly stretch at the end, as if he’d been waiting for her for minutes instead of just a few seconds. By the end of about ten days they were both beginning to build lean muscle, and they slept well every night.
Others slowly began to join them in their routine. Though Maria was still eager to get home, she felt that her uncle and cousin needed her more, and she was enjoying the conditioning. By the end of the month, everyone in the community had their own running, walking and jogging groups, based on their age and levels of conditioning. Before long, the gentle May had given way to hot June days and cool nights.
19. Dragons Under Fire
The first week in June brought a new crisis. While Maria was on-shift, Pete was working in the community garden - some of their neighbors had been active gardeners, and eagerly took to growing food to help keep their supplies up. When he heard the noise of the old-fashioned hand-cranked siren calling all able-bodied citizens to the firehouse, he leapt up from the tomato beds, grabbed his 9mm, and ran to the station. Pete had been briefed on the procedure, but they’d never been beset by enough attackers to warrant a real ‘call-to-arms’ before today.
As the community members began to stream in, the Chief’s lieutenants were sending people into the woods on both sides, joining the on-duty Dragons. “Watch for friendly fire!” Uncle Timmy and some of the others were yelling to those headed into the woods.
“Pete,” the Chief bellowed. “I need you on station. Stay right inside wood line, behind that big hardwood tree. Keep your scorpion and grab your med bag. I’ve got your best trainee on the left, but it looks like most are coming down station-side.”
From his vantage point, Pete could just see Maria. She was lying flat on the roof of the bus that they used as their ‘gate,’ since it was light enough to be pushed aside when necessary. The windshield had been reinforced with steel plate, with crude shooting slots hammered into them after the metal was heated. The lieutenants had stationed the less stealthy residents who were still a decent shot behind the plates on the bus.
“Chief, they’re pushing a fuel truck down the road,” Maria yelled. “Evacuate the bus! I’ll try to take out the driver!”
As Pete watched, Maria took aim and sent several rounds into the driver’s side of the fuel truck. Her shot was true - the driver slumped and jerked the wheel, momentarily derailing the crew pushing the truck. A man from the ‘push crew’ ran around to the driver’s door, trying to get them on track, and was quickly filled with lead. As he went down, the truck’s back wheels rolled over him, slowing the push even more. Finally, the truck rolled into a wood line and struck a tree.
“Fall back, station side!” Pete shouted. He watched in horror as time slowed to a crawl - as the Dragons were running back, the attackers pulled whatever fuse they had rigged, and the truck exploded in a wave of flame.
Screams of agony echoed throughout the forest as attackers and Dragons alike were engulfed in flame. Maria was still shooting from the top of the truck, but her back and hair had caught flame, like maybe a stray splash of fuel had hit her and she hadn’t realized.
She heard Pete scream, “Maria!” over the roar of the flames. That’s when the pain hit. It was like something out of his worst nightmares. Maria screamed and rolled onto her back. Though she’d smothered the flames, but she was in excruciating pain. She went completely limp atop the hot metal roof of the bus.
She looked left, and saw that Pete was holding a compress to a wounded Dragon, but looking at her wide eyed. He met Jonah’s eyes, who was carrying one of the burned Dragons over his back as he ran out of the woods. At Pete’s wide-eyed yells and points, he looked up to the bus roof, quickly laid the injured Dragon down near Pete, and then hauled himself up the ladder to reach Maria. Jonah put her over his shoulder, taking the rungs down two at a time and running full-tilt to the aid station.
Pete looked like he wanted desperately to run to her, but her injuries were localized while the man Jonah had rescued was in more dire straits, second- and third-degree burns all over his body, so he forced himself to wait. “I’ll be with you soon, sweetness. You’ll be OK.” His trainees in the aid station were attending to her until he could get there himself.
She watched Pete suffer as more wounded came in. It looked like Pete knew the man he was treating likely wouldn’t make it. He gave him morphine to ease his pain and stayed with him. As the man’s eyes were closing, Jonah came running back out from the aid station, rifle on his back. “These fuckers are gonna pay!” Jonah roared, charging back into the woods.
Pete went to rescue as many Dragons as he could reach. Attackers began to stream through the woods in droves - though they didn’t appear to be well-armed or well-trained, they had strength in numbers, coming until Pete was struggling to keep track of friend or foe.
The bus held back the flames, so the snipers were sent back to their shooting slots to pick the runners off one by one. Though they kept coming, they had no chance of surviving the concentrated fire from the bunker-like barrier.
And then, as soon as it had begun, the battle was over and the fire fighting began. Luckily, it had rained recently, so the moist soil helped to tamp down the blaze as they put out the fires and gathered up the dropped weapons and ammunition.
Once the immediate danger had passed, Pete helped to field-catalog their dead and wounded - they had killed over one hundred attackers, while only five of their own had fallen. There was no real rhyme or reason to the group beyond desperation - most were too thin, with two months of hunger having taken a heavy toll.
Fourteen Dragons, including Maria, had various types of wounds, but none were in critical condition. They would have to be watched carefully for risk of infection, especially the burn victims, but most had only superficial arm wounds where they’d been grazed as they shot from behind the trees. Pete responded to each according to his training, but there was no denying that he had been the most afraid for Maria, as he stopped at her cot more than any other, briefing her on what was going on.
Later, Pete met Bannon in the tent soon after the battle, as he had come to check on Maria. As they sat by her bed, Bannon told Pete that he’d taken a page out of Reid’s playbook. He’d hid in a tree until he was sure that all of the attackers had passed him, and then surprised them with a rear attack. “How many did you down?” Pete asked.
“I don’t know,” Bannon said. His fists were clenched in his lap as he looked
at Maria’s relaxing form. “I mean - I really don’t know,” he continued. “Was it twenty? Thirty?” He laughed humorlessly, looking at Pete with haunted eyes. “And for me - I think that’s the worst part.”
20. Recovery
As soon as Maria was well enough, she begged Pete to move her back to the house. Pete conceded that she’d do better in a familiar environment, where Timmy and Bannon could both keep an eye on her as well. None of them slept much - despite the pain medication Pete administered, Maria frequently woke screaming from night terrors, a lingering reminder of her harrowing experience.
When she was able to be up and around, Maria examined herself in the mirror. She was fortunate to have escaped without many physical reminders. Her back had some scarring, but it wasn’t horribly unsightly and was easy to cover. The loss of her hair was a shame, but one of the women on the salvage team had previously been a hairdresser and helped her to rescue what was left of it, cutting it into a cute, neat bob. As the days passed, she actually came to like it a lot - it was easier maintenance than her long, tangled locks. It might’ve even been a style she’d chosen at school. It was odd how much a simple haircut helped her regain a sense of control, but she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Afterwards, she would frequently pull her fingers through it when she was stressed or worried.
