Fire From The Sky | Book 8 | Hell Fire

by Reed, N. C.

  “There's a damaged MRAP sitting at the interchange, by the way,” Kevin said. “Saw it when we hit the freeway.”

  “Probably one that Jordan's militia damaged in their battle,” Clay replied. “Let them have it. If they haven't collected it in a couple days we'll get it. It would be good for parts if nothing else.”

  “Well, go and get some-,” Clay started, but was interrupted by a voice from the door.

  “Can we talk to you?” a woman's voice asked. Clay turned to see Talia Gray standing in the doorway with two other young women he didn't recognize. Their ragged appearance identified them as former captives.

  “Sure,” he waved them inside. “You guys go get some breakfast. And for the love of God, sin no more? Please?” That was met with chuckles from all four men as they turned to go.

  “Can you stay?”

  It took Zach a minute to realize he was being spoken to. A hand on his arm made him move to grab the hand, but he caught himself as the hand was pulled back. He looked up to see Kim Powers studying him carefully.

  “What?” was all Zach could think to say.

  “Can you stay? Here with us I mean? For a minute or two?” she asked. Zach looked at Clay who nodded and motioned for Zach to return to his side. Zach did so, standing loosely. He was running on fumes and adrenaline by now and it showed.

  “What can we do for you this morning, Miss Gray?” Clay asked politely. That six hours of sleep really had worked wonders for him.

  “You want fighters,” Gray said without preamble. “I know you've got women fighting on your team, and Holloway asked me to do it. Do you still want fighters?”

  “We're always interested in people who will stand and fight, Miss Gray,” Clay answered carefully.

  “I told you if you would go after these girls, I would do it,” she reminded him.

  “That isn't necessary,” he assured her. “But thank you.”

  “It's not just her,” Powers said.

  “I'm sorry, who are you?” Clay asked.

  “Sorry, Boss,” Zach seemed to pop out of a daze. “Clayton Sanders, Kimmy Powers. Kim, Clayton Sanders. He is the Bossman.”

  “Oh?” the young woman raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh,” Zach nodded firmly. “The man in charge of everything, actually.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Powers, though I wish it were under better circumstances.” Clay was polite and even a bit formal. Damn, that sleep thing really was a good idea.

  “Anyway, it's not just her that's interested,” Powers repeated. “We were talking to her because some of us knew her before, from school. She was a runner. Anyway, she mentioned what you were doing. Several of us are athletes, or were, and others are farm girls, born and raised. None of us are weak. I was a cheerleader, and while I know that most people think that's nothing, it's harder than it looks.”

  “I am well aware of how difficult it could be,” Clay agreed. “Lifting and jumping and holding someone else above your head all require good fitness. Where is this going, Miss Powers? Not to be rude, I promise, I just have a lot to do this morning. A lot of new people here,” he tried to smile and sound friendly.

  “If you're willing to train us, to take us on, then we'll fight,” Powers said flatly. “None of us want to be caught like this again. Ever. Most of us don't want to go home. Some of us may not have a home left, or at least not much of one. We don't really know. Maybe we can go and get clothes and things, if you can spare a working vehicle for that,” she shrugged. “But we'll make clothes if we have to.”

  “Well, three trained people added to our group would-,” Clay began.

  “Not three,” Powers shook her head. Suddenly she raised her hand to her mouth and whistled sharply. Women began filing into the building, one after another, until fourteen young, ragged looking but physically fit women stood in a line behind Powers, Gray and whoever the other girl was.

  All of them looked strong. Made well, his father would say. More like Abby and Sam than a socialite in town before the Storm. Young women used to working for a living and accustomed to hard and difficult training. He studied them for several minutes before looking at Zach.

  “Your opinion?” he surprised the kid.

  “If they're anything like Abby, Vee or Copper, then... can't hurt,” he replied carefully. “Right?”

  Clay pursed his lips, thinking of what all of them had said. All of them were determined. He remembered Vicki Tully coming to him after she had been rescued from the same building, what seemed like a lifetime ago. She was determined.

  Of course, she was already a trained soldier. Not just trained but experienced, with three trips to the Middle East under her belt.

  Then there was Samantha. Captivity had changed her as well. Hardened her. And Sienna was as tough as they came and someone he would gladly fight alongside again.

  Standing before him were seventeen women, including Gray, who could possibly be the same quality. They looked it, and they seemed determined. The only question was could they last. And there was only one way to find out.

  “We'll give it a try.”

  -

  The three remaining women had no interest in becoming soldiers or any facsimile thereof. Neither were they at all interested in staying on the farm in a working capacity.

  “I need you to take me home,” an older woman more or less ordered. Clay estimated her to be around thirty-five. She was attractive, but extremely overbearing.

  “Where is home, exactly?” Clay asked her politely.

  “Lewiston,” she replied. “You have to take me to Lewiston.”

  “Sorry ma'am, but we haven't been to Lewiston and aren't intending to go,” Clay informed her politely. “We can take you as far as-”

  “I said you have to take me to Lewiston!” she interrupted.

  “And I said we aren't going,” Clay shrugged. “I was going to offer you a ride as far as the county line, but with your attitude, I've decided we aren't going there, either. We can take you to the interstate and maybe you can get a ride from there.”

  “I want to go to Jordan,” said a woman with three children around her... no, four children counting the one hiding behind her, Clay saw. “I have family there.”

  “Okay,” Clay nodded. “That we can do. We'll need to carry Miss Gray to get her things, anyway, so you can make the trip then. Probably later today. Just make yourself comfortable until then.”

  “I'd rather go to Jordan as well,” the final woman said. The three remaining children were hugging her legs. Clay suspected she was their mother, or perhaps their aunt. Either way, the children clearly knew her.

  “Okay,” Clay repeated. “Again, just have a seat and be comfortable. We should be going there later today. If we can't today then it will certainly be tomorrow, but you can bunk here for tonight if necessary. We'll make sure you're as comfortable as possible.”

  “And you're carrying me to Lewiston,” the first woman interjected again.

  “No, I'm not,” Clay shook his head. “You're welcome to go to Jordan, though I can't promise any of you they'll take you in. That's up to them. I have to believe if you have family there that they will, but I don't know that for a fact. That's between you and them,” he warned the other two, who nodded.

  “And what about me?” the demanding woman placed herself between Clay and the other two.

  “What about you, lady?” Clay asked in return. “I told you we'd carry you to Jordan. That's all you get after that attitude. And we aren't going to Lewiston at all. It's too far for us to travel. We've not been there since all this started and we're not going now. We'll take you to Jordan and then you can demand they take you to Lewiston. You can wait here with them until we're ready to go.”

  She was still yammering about Lewiston when Clay left.

  -

  “Hello, Zach.”

  Zach fought not to groan when he heard Vicki's voice behind him.

  “Hey, Vee,” he managed to sound pleased to see her as he turned. �
��How's it going?”

  “I heard you slipped away again last night,” she smiled at him. “Getting to be a habit isn't it?”

  “Something like that,” he was instantly wary. She seemed... nicer. It had to be a trap.

  “I'm glad you're okay,” she told him. “And I am so sorry about Kade,” her voice softened. Zach looked at her for a few seconds and suddenly everything came crashing down on him once more. He slowly sat down, remembering that his friend had died yesterday.

  “I'm sorry if I upset you, Zach,” she said carefully. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am.”

  “Thanks,” he said absently. Inside, he was wondering what kind of friend he was that he had forgotten about Kade dying not even a full day ago.

  “Are you okay?” Vicki asked, concerned.

  “I'm very tired,” he admitted. “More tired than I've been in a long time.” He sounded so very old to her ears all of a sudden. Something she'd never heard from him before.

  “You need to rest, Zach,” she urged. “You'll get hurt if you're not able to concentrate and be on top of your game. Sleep whenever you can, you know?”

  “I know,” his voice was distant. “Thanks.”

  “Zach, do you need anything?” she asked softly. “Can I help you in any way? Whatever I can do, I will. Surely you know that, I hope.”

  “I don't know what it would be,” he said honestly. “I don't think there's anything that would help.” He looked at her and smiled slightly. “But thank you for asking.”

  The smile that bloomed on her face was brighter than any he could ever remember seeing when they had been together.

  “You're welcome,” she told him. “If you think of anything at all, you come find me, okay?”

  “I will,” he promised, and meant it. For the first time since the two had gone their separate ways, he meant it.

  -

  “You have to keep the sling on to keep from pulling the stitches, Gordy,” Sam fussed as Gordy fought to set the sling in a comfortable spot.

  “Yeah, I know,” he told her, trying to be civil and not sound irritated. “I'm good.”

  “You don't want to open the wound back up,” she didn't seem to hear him. “Those stitches are just holding things together, you know. They don't actually heal anything. You have to-,”

  “Sam, I know,” he said gently. “I'm okay.”

  “You're not okay!” she startled him by almost yelling. “You were shot! That's not okay! You could have... I mean... Kaden... that could have been you!” she nearly wailed as the tears started falling.

  “Sam, it could have been any of us, including you,” he reminded her. “We didn't go looking for trouble, you know. It came looking for us. I'm fine.”

  “You are not fine!”

  “Sam, I'm shot, yes, but I'm not laying in the hospital like Corey or Stacy or Sienna or Shane, now am I?” he told her. “I may be hurt, but I'm not nearly as hurt as some of the others. Shane almost bled to death, Corey nearly had his head taken off, Sienna was an inch from either being blinded or bleeding to death, and Stacy... well, he's fine,” he waved a hand as if brushing off Stacy's wound. Sam laughed in spite of herself and Gordy smiled at her.

  “That's a little better,” he hugged her with his good arm. “I know what you're thinking. Most of us are. This was the first time we've faced someone that really had a clue what they were doing and had the gear to back it up. We knew that day might come, and we knew if it did, we would get hurt. Maybe not this bad, but... we knew it could happen. Things have just been so easy that we... we forgot. Yesterday made sure to remind us.”

  “Are you saying we could have avoided it?” she asked.

  “No, we didn't do this,” Gordy shook his head. “This wasn't our fault. And Kade... Kade died defending his friends. People he cared for. He was selfless like that, Sam. He always was. God, I'm going to miss him,” he closed his eyes and leaned back into the sofa. Sam molded herself to his good side and laid her head against his good shoulder, tears still streaming.

  They had won, but it had cost them so much.

  Gordy sat there for a few minutes before digging into the seat beside him, causing Sam to stir.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, sitting up once again.

  “I got you something,” Gordy smiled, holding out a brown paper wrapped bundle. Sam took it, looking at him quizzically as she untied the cotton cord holding the bundle together. She gasped softly as she saw the contents.

  “Gordy... it's gorgeous!” she gushed, holding the beautifully crafted Copperhead gunbelt. Seth Webb had delivered big time for Gordy on this one. It would never have made a belt for Gordy, but easily made one that would fit around Sam's narrow waistline. She stood up to try it on, smiling brightly even as her eyes were still wet with tears. She had forgotten, if just for a few minutes. He'd take it.

  Mission accomplished.

  -

  “Are you alright?”

  Titus looked up to see Marcy George looking down at him as he sat behind the cabins, looking out over the vast fields behind them.

  “No, I ain't,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Kade is gone, and... Corey damn near bought it too, Gordy got shot... and I'm just sitting here wondering why it was them and not someone else.”

  “Not you, you mean?” she sat down beside him, placing an arm around his waist and hugging him tightly. He returned it with an arm around her shoulders.

  “Maybe,” he shrugged lightly. “I guess.”

  “It wasn't your time, Titus,” she said simply.

  “Wasn't Kade's either,” he shrugged. “He's still gone.”

  “Then it was his time,” she said with a certainty that belied her age. “Bible says our days are numbered, just like the hairs on our head. God knows what He's about, Titus, and you have to remember that. Somewhere down the line, what happened to Kaden, to Corey and the others, it will change something that needed changing. Might be something big, might just be somebody's mind it changes. We don't always get to know, or get to see it.”

  “That sounds good, I guess,” Titus sighed. “But I don't believe it was his time, just cause he happened to die yesterday. I was up here with Bodee, but I could have just as easily been down there. I could have drawn the same job Kade did. Then would it still have been his time?”

  “I don't have an answer for that, Ty,” she admitted to him. “But I have to keep my faith cause it's almost all I got left, anymore. Just that, and you,” she hugged him tighter. “And I still got you even after yesterday. I have to give thanks for that and be grateful. I don't think I could stand to lose you, boy.” She kissed his cheek suddenly and he smiled at her.

  “Well, I'll try and stick around, just ‘cause you asked so nice,” he promised. “And cause you're kinda cute,” he added teasingly.

  “Only kinda?”

  -

  Heath Kelly was sitting on the tower, going through the motions, when he heard what would probably be Leanne Tillman climbing the ladder. He went to the trap door and pulled it open just as she was about to knock.

  “You have to tell me how you do that,” she told him as he lifted her up into the tower and then closed the door back.

  “There's a peephole in the door,” he told her as he sat back down.

  “There is?” she went to look and he had to stifle his laughter as he watched her looking for it. Finally, she whirled to see him smiling at her.

  “There is not!”

  “No, there's not,” he admitted. “I can hear you coming, that's all.” He sat back in his chair and took another look around. She sat down beside him in silence, waiting.

  “I'm sorry about Kaden, Heath,” she said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. He nodded slowly without looking at her.

  “Me too,” he told her. “You know, he and I were friends since pre-school,” he gave a tiny huff of air that might have been a laugh or a sob, depending on where you were standing. “Been together every year of school since. And it ends here becau
se of greed and... whatever motivates people like them,” he waved toward the world outside the farm in general.

  Leanne stood again and closed the two feet that separated them, embracing him for the first time since they had started... whatever it was they were doing. His arm encircled her waist and drew her to him tighter, clinging to her as if his life depended on it. Without a thought to her actions she put her lips to the top of his head and kissed him, her tears falling into his hair. The two stayed that way for a full minute before she moved around in front of him and sat down on his lap, her legs outside his as she cradled him to her. She had no true idea what she was accomplishing, but it seemed like the thing to do.

  For his part, Heath was shocked at her boldness, considering how shy she had been to this point. Yet he couldn't deny the comfort that her presence brought him, more so as he grieved for his oldest friend. She hugged him tightly and whispered softly to him, trying to comfort him any way she could.

  “Thank you,” he whispered back to her, almost too softly for her to hear as his arms closed tightly around her middle.

  “Always,” she said simply. “Always.”

  -

  Corey Reynard woke up feeling much worse than he had when he had gone to sleep the night before while still under the influence of morphine. He would like very much to have stayed asleep, but his bladder was screaming at him for relief. He tried to sit up only to find himself still connected to... something.

  “Whoa, there, Tiger,” Kaitlin Caudell came over to him. “Where do you think you're going?”

  “I, uh... um... I really need to...”

  “Need to pee?” she laughed gently. “It's okay, kiddo, you can say it. I'm a nurse. I've heard worse. Hold on and let me get a urinal.”

  “A what now?”

  “This?” Kaitlin held up a urinal as she returned to the bed he was in. “Let me just-” she went to move the sheet off of him only to have him grab it and pull it back.

  “Hey, hey, hey now!” he grabbed the sheet with both hands, wincing with the effort but determined to hang on to them. “Personal boundaries, here!”

  Kaitlin tried not to laugh at him, she really did, but seeing him so sincerely determined to prevent her from pulling his sheet back tickled her.