by Nathan Jones
Mountain War:
Defending Their Home
Book Four of the
Mountain Man series.
by
Nathan Jones
Copyright © 2019 Nathan Jones
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The events depicted in this novel are fictional. The characters in this story are also fictional, and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is entirely unintentional.
by Nathan Jones
POST-APOCALYPTIC
BEST LAID PLANS
Fuel
Shortage
Invasion
Reclamation
Determination
NUCLEAR WINTER
First Winter
First Spring
Chain Breakers
Going Home
Fallen City
MOUNTAIN MAN
Badlands
Homecoming
Homeland
Mountain War
Final Stand (upcoming)
SCIENCE FICTION
STELLAR MERGER
Boralene
Ensom (upcoming)
STAG PRIVATEERS
Last Stand
Caretakers (upcoming)
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Author's Note
Links to books by Nathan Jones
Prologue
Responsibility
There was an outcrop on the northern peak of the bowl valley that Skyler liked to climb up to, something he'd been doing more often in the twelve days since Gerry's Ravine. It was a good place to find some privacy.
Trapper, his adoptive dad, had taken to calling it “Sulk Point”.
The mountain man had a dry sense of humor, and it was certainly true Skyler had probably spent more than a little of his time up there in moody isolation. That didn't mean the teasing name didn't irritate him.
Of course, he was more irritable than usual these days. Hard not to be, when within the span of a few days he'd pretty much singlehandedly riled Sangue up, caused a battle that had gotten one of the volunteers defending the valley killed, and to top it all off had made his best friend's family feel like the place was no longer safe for them, so they'd left.
Best friend? Might as well be honest with himself and admit Lisa Hendrickson was the girl he loved, however anyone might laugh at him for having such strong feelings when he was still only fourteen, although only a month shy of his fifteenth birthday.
Especially since he hadn't even realized he had such strong feelings for his childhood friend, until he watched her ride away.
The one good thing that had come of all this was that what had riled Sangue so badly was Skyler rescuing seven women the enemy had taken prisoner, saving them from a fate worse than death. Although not before they'd spent a night suffering unspeakable horrors, to his deep regret that he couldn't free them sooner.
But they were safe in the valley now, living at the summer retreat sharing one of its two rooms and the newly built cabin that had been meant for the Hendricksons before they up and left. And whatever else anyone might say about the increased danger to Camptown, the new settlement of refugees from Emery a hundred or so yards from the retreat, no one could argue that saving Jenny, Mer, Keri, and the other women hadn't been a good thing. Something for Skyler to be proud of.
And he was. That didn't make him feel any less miserable about everything, hence him spending so much time up at Sulk Point.
Not that he had anything better to do, since his mom refused to so much as let him scout the area around the valley for signs of more Sangue sneaking up on them. Even though he'd promised to avoid a fight and just report on the enemy's movements, and even Trapper had tried to plead his case, she refused to budge.
Although it looked as if his peaceful seclusion was about to end, as movement to the northeast drew his attention. He quickly unslung the AK-47 he'd taken from the first man he'd ever killed, back when he'd saved his mom from bandits outside of Newpost when he was only ten. The weapon was as familiar as his arm after all these years, and he smoothly raised it to look through the scope.
He didn't expect to see Sangue, of course. The volunteer scouts would've spotted any bloodies and sent word long before they got within sight of the valley, even from his lofty perch on the northern peak. And sure enough, the figure he saw rushing back to Camptown was a familiar one: his friend Logan Williamson, who was a few years older than him and worked as a ranch hand for his family.
Logan had been out scouting with his brother-in-law, Brandon Gerry, along arguably the most dangerous route: the north-easternmost far patrol, closest to the Sangue camp at Joes Valley Reservoir where Skyler had rescued the Jenny and the others.
The fact that his friend was returning alone, and at an urgent, almost breakneck pace, was probably a bad sign. Had Sangue come back, and Brandon had stayed behind to keep tabs on them while sending the teenager back for reinforcements?
Skyler hastily slung his rifle on his back again, then scrambled to his feet and made his way carefully along the treacherous outcrop to the trail leading down to the bowl valley. He was conflicted about the idea of going back out to face the bloodies, and doubted his mom would even let him anyway. But that didn't stop him from rushing down to see what news Logan had brought back.
It was a steep, difficult climb down the northern peak, and he cursed the fact that he'd been loafing around up there when an emergency finally happened. Served him right for spending so much time at Sulk Point. Especially since it wasn't like there wasn't plenty of work for him to do anyway, between caring for his family's livestock, making the summer retreat more livable and preparing for winter, and helping the residents of Camptown build homes for everyone.
By the time he reached the valley, he had his confirmation that Logan had brought serious news, in the form of almost forty volunteers gathering at the northeast end near the makeshift shooting range Trapper had built for training. They were scrambling to make sure they had personal gear, as well as saying hasty goodbyes to loved ones.
In the middle of that hubbub Brady Everett, who'd owned a trading post in Emery and now served as the volunteers' quartermaster, had his people scrambling to get together supplies for so many people. Enough for what looked to Skyler like at least a week, as well as making sure everyone had weapons and ammo and distributing what little body armor was available.
At the periphery of all the bustle a crowd of almost a hundred people from Camptown, mostly friends and family of those leaving, had gathered to see the volunteers off.
It looked as if Trapper was taking everyone he could spare, aside from a dozen or so of the less experienced and trained ones to stay behind and patrol the area around the bowl valley, in case more Sangue were sneaking up on them.
As if that wasn't enough of a
hint about how serious the situation was, even Parley Mitchells, former Sheriff of Emery and current informal leader of Camptown, was gearing up to go with the volunteers. From the way he was intently talking to Brady, he was apparently leaving the trader in charge while he was gone.
Skyler hurried to join the group, and was surprised when Trapper immediately broke away from his own frantic preparations to meet him halfway. He had a moment of hope his adoptive dad wanted him to come along, at least for scouting, and by some miracle had convinced his mom to let him go.
He should've known better, although what the man wanted turned out to be a decent consolation prize.
“Logan just brought us word that Sangue's sent out a huge force, as much as three squads, to search south of Highway 29,” the mountain man said urgently.
Skyler felt a sick sinking in his stomach at that. They'd all known Sangue would come looking for the squad the volunteers had wiped out at Gerry's Ravine. It was pretty much inevitable. Still, as the days passed they'd all hoped they might catch a break. It had been almost two weeks since then, after all, and up til now none of the far scouts had caught sight of anything suspicious.
“Are they headed for us here?” he asked.
Trapper shook his head. “No, they were going straight south from Joes Valley Reservoir, in the direction their other squad was chasing Brandon and the women you rescued before we ambushed them.”
Well, that was a relief, if a small one. Joes Valley was a good distance east of Camptown, and there was every chance they'd pass the bowl valley entirely if they kept going south. At the same time, “huge force” was never what you wanted to hear when it came to the bloodies; their squads had twenty soldiers each, so that was sixty people. At least half again the number of volunteers heading out to try to deal with them.
“Brandon's sticking with them to keep an eye on them?” Skyler asked.
Trapper nodded, expression grim. “He's going to break away after they set camp each night, and before they break camp in the morning, to try to find the reinforcements we send so he can point us directly to the enemy.”
He supposed that made sense, although it was hard not to feel gloomy at hearing that sort of planning, considering he wouldn't be involved in it. “I'm not going, am I?”
His adoptive dad shook his head firmly. “Nope. I need you for an equally important task.”
Skyler did his best not to scowl. He could accept that the man couldn't let him go when his mom was adamant, but there was no reason to pour salt on the wounds by trying to pretend that staying to watch the livestock or protect the family was just as critical. Even if he could admit that it was important.
But the mountain man surprised him. “If Sangue's stepping up their interest in this area like this, we're going to need the new recruits we've been training sooner rather than later. And if the unthinkable happens and our volunteers are all killed, the recruits are going to be the last line of defense between the bloodies and Camptown.”
That idea made Skyler's blood run cold. Not that the thirty or so men and women who'd decided to sign up to join the fight after Gerry's Ravine weren't brave and determined, but they were all worryingly unskilled.
Heck, compared to him and Trapper even the volunteers who'd be going out to face Sangue were relatively untrained. If the enemy did beat them it would probably be better for the people of Camptown to flee rather than try to fight.
Assuming there was anywhere for them to flee to.
His adoptive dad noticed his sudden surge of worry and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We'll stop them, one way or another. But while we're gone I want those recruits to keep on training. I'm leaving that up to you.”
Skyler's blood ran cold for a different reason. “Me?” he said, voice coming out in an embarrassing squeak.
Trapper nodded solemnly. “You've got the skills they need for fighting in these mountains, and everyone recognizes that. Pass those skills along to the recruits as best you can.”
At his age, how was he supposed to lead a bunch of people, who ranged from a few years to a few decades older than him, in training? No one would take him seriously; they'd probably laugh their heads off the moment he tried to tell them to do anything.
Before Skyler could voice any of those protests, the mountain man turned back to his frantic preparations to leave. Those didn't seem to include preparing more than a few horses, and those weren't even fitted with packsaddles; they were probably intended for passing messages back to Camptown.
That meant Trapper didn't want the big, highly visible animals giving away the volunteers as they crept up on Sangue and spied on them, or leaving an obvious, hard to hide trail back to the bowl valley. But at the same time, it meant the volunteers would be missing the speed and mobility those horses offered, which his adoptive dad had said more than once during training was an advantage they'd desperately need in the fight against the enemy.
He hoped the man knew what he was doing, leaving that advantage behind.
In a surprisingly short time, the volunteers had their supplies and gear sorted and were ready to head out, only a few last goodbyes left to say. Skyler supposed they'd been preparing for this ever since Gerry's Ravine, so it was to be expected they'd be quick about it. In spite of the important job Trapper had left him to do training the recruits, part of him still wished he could go.
And a bigger part of him was relieved he didn't have to fight again, kill again. Possibly fail his friends and be forced to watch them die, or even die himself.
Amid the hasty farewells, he caught sight of Fiona Gerry, Brandon's wife, hugging Logan tightly while at the same time firmly admonishing her younger brother to come home safely, and bring her husband home safely too. Not far from them, Skyler's mom was awkwardly hugging Trapper around her heavily pregnant belly, while their two-year-old daughter Molly tugged at her daddy's leg demanding her turn. The mountain man pulled her up into his arms and hugged and kissed her and her mommy at the same time, then turned to Skyler.
In spite of his adoptive dad's urgency to ride out and meet this threat, he still took a moment to pull him into a brief hug as well. “Look, I know you wish you were coming with us . . .” he began, before trailing off lamely.
That would be a trick, since I don't even know that myself. Skyler could still remember Derek Lyman's blank eyes staring at nothing, and his wife's horrified cries when they brought back her husband's body.
And he remembered crouching over a passed out Sangue soldier with a knife in his hand, every instinct screaming for him to remove that monster from the world, remove all the monsters in that Joes Valley camp, but too weak to do it. And he remembered puking his guts out after killing the soldier at Gerry's Ravine, horrified at taking a life even though it had been necessary. Then, as if the universe was punishing him for his mistakes, he remembered watching Lisa ride away with her family because they no longer felt safe in the bowl valley.
All of this, even the threat Trapper was going out to face right now, was his fault.
So no, Skyler wasn't sure deep down if he wanted to go to another fight. He didn't want to be a coward either, or fail his family when they needed him most, but part of him was secretly relieved the choice was out of his hands and he was staying.
He straightened his shoulders as best he could and tried to give his adoptive dad a confident smile. “I'll take care of things while you're gone, and make sure the recruits have got in some good days of training in by the time you get back.”
Trapper grinned. “I know. I couldn't leave them in better hands. Speaking of which . . .” he jerked his head towards where the Knudsens were gathered saying goodbye to their friends and family among the volunteers. “I talked to Henry about his family helping out with the livestock. That should free up some of your time for training, looking after the retreat, and giving everyone staying behind whatever help they need.”
He paused significantly, glancing towards his wife and young daughter. “Particularly your mo
m. Do everything you can for her, so she doesn't have to push herself too hard in her condition.”
That was something they could both agree on. Skyler had seen how difficult it had been for his mom to keep up with the hard work required to run a ranch while pregnant with Molly, especially as she got closer to her due date. Now she was under even more strain, exiled to this high mountain valley and struggling to prepare for the winter with the worry of enemy attack looming over their heads, and her husband being gone fighting to defend them.
“She won't have to lift a finger while I'm around,” he promised.
His adoptive dad snorted, not quite in disbelief, and gave him a pointed look. “And try to give her a break about her not letting you fight, huh? Her life's hard enough right now without dealing with a sulky teenager.”
Skyler looked away, quashing a surge of resentment. He'd been having trouble forgiving her for flat out refusing to let him help the volunteers in any way aside from training, and probably taking it out on her unfairly by refusing to talk to her, even avoiding her where he could. But although he knew all that, he wasn't sure he could completely ignore how unfair she was being.
Still, he knew what the mountain man wanted to hear, and angry or not he did want to give her whatever help she needed. “Okay.”
Trapper clapped him on the shoulder and turned away, raising his fingers to his lips and giving his trademark deafening whistle that had people nearby ducking and covering their ears. The volunteers split off from their loved ones and lined up, packs on their backs and expressions grim and resolved. With the mountain man in the lead, they headed northeast down a slope leading to a lower valley with a larger stream, almost a river, running through it.
Skyler stood with the others watching the dozens of men and women march, probably to a fight. It wasn't long before they disappeared on the forested slopes, putting Trapper's training about moving stealthily even when traveling quickly to good use.
