“He’s just a big teddy bear,” she said.
“Grizzly bear you mean.”
“Teddy. Just don’t get on his wrong side.”
“I don’t plan to,” he said, rolling up the blanket and taking it to the trunk.
Twenty minutes later he pulled up in front of Becky’s little home.
“Did you want to come in for a coffee?”
Luke was more than just interested in Becky, but years of old James Stewart movies and his dad’s lessons about how to act like a gentleman meant there was no way he would…
“Just for coffee Luke,” she said, grinning at his conflicted face.
“Okay, yeah sure. I’d love to.”
Two hours, three coffees, lots of chat and more than a few kisses later, Luke finally yawned.
“I really should get going.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” she teased. “But you should stay the night. On the sofa.”
“No, it’s alright. It’s not far to drive,” he said, standing up.
She grasped his arm.
“Please, it would make me feel better, otherwise I’ll be worried all night. I’ll let you go first thing, I promise.”
“I suppose so, but aren’t you worried about what people will think?”
“People will think what they want to think anyway. At least you and I know that I didn’t let you have your wicked way with me.”
She stood on tiptoes to kiss him lingeringly.
“You talked me into it.”
“Good,” she said, suddenly all business. “I’ll get you a pillow and some sheets.”
Ten minutes later, Luke was lying on the sofa staring at the darkened ceiling, exceedingly happy but wide awake. His mind roiled with the possibilities of new love. It took him a long time to get to sleep.
Part Four: The Battle of Concord
17
Luke’s eyes snapped open. He awoke to the smell of cooking eggs and the sound of a wailing siren. Becky rushed into the room, her eyes wild. She was already dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She held a spatula in one hand.
“That’s the general alarm! We have to go to City Hall.”
“Okay.”
Luke sat up and pulled on his boots as she turned and scurried back into the kitchen. She was back a few seconds later holding a sandwich and his car keys.
“Here you eat this,” she said, pushing a bacon sandwich into his hand. “I’ll drive.”
Becky didn’t really give him a choice, so he went with the flow, hoping that she knew what she was doing. He followed her through the front door and out to the car. The Mustang’s V8 roared to life as he circled around to his door. He had barely sat down and closed it before she took off with a squeal of rubber.
He had to hold on to the dash with his good hand as she took the few turns at speed and then hammered it down Green street before pulling up hard in front of the city hall building.
Luke was a little shaky as she turned off the car and handed him the keys.
“You’ve done this before?”
She smiled and nodded.
“My grandparents had an old bomb we were allowed to drive around their farm… yours goes better,” she said grinning, before jumping out.
A sizeable crowd had already gathered. Becky got lots of whistles and claps as she led him up the steps and into the City Hall building. The lobby was abuzz with motion as people ran this way and that.
“Goose!” said Becky, grabbing a skinny kid with glasses as he rushed by. “What’s going on?”
“There’s an army coming,” he said, before shaking her off and heading off on his previously charted course.
“Come on,” she said. “Bowman must be back.”
Luke had to rush to keep up with her as she took the steps up to Randall’s floor two at a time. His door was open and crowded with uniformed men. Bowman was front and center with Colonel Randall. The older man acknowledged Becky and Luke with a nod as Bowman continued.
“Their army is three thousand strong and led by three tanks. I think they’ll come in by the most direct route,” he said, running his finger along the 90 to Albany and then northeast along the 202 to Concord. “They’re big enough that they won’t bother trying to sneak in via small roads.”
Randall’s lowered brows almost covered his eyes as he looked down on the map.
“If I may sir?” asked Bowman.
Randall waved him on.
“They’re too big to fight sir. I think you should make a treaty with them, or we should find a place that we’ll be able to defend better.”
Randall turned his gaze on the soldier.
“I appreciate your candor son. But neither of those options are on the table. This is our home. We made it, and we’ll defend it. As for making a treaty with them? Submit or die is not a way to a treaty with anyone. Nor is sending tanks and an army of three thousand odd a serious attempt at diplomacy. No, we have only one course of action, and all I would ask is that you have faith.”
He looked around at the rest of the people in the room. Bowman nodded as did a few others.
“Are you with me?” Randall asked in a gravelly voice.
A chorus of yes sir went around the room.
“Good, let’s get started planning then. First off, this is where we’ll attack them.”
Randall jabbed his thick finger onto the map near a little town called Hillsboro.
There is a forest on either side of this corridor. This Fox State Forest is perfect for an ambush. It’s close to the road and is bound to be even closer after all these years of unhindered growth. I want to situate a small team here. Bowman, you’ll lead. No more than thirty men with automatic weapons and rocket launchers. The aim will be to take out the tanks, besides sheer numbers, that’s their main advantage over us. I want those tanks blown off their treads as soon as possible. There’ll be blowback, but you should be able to suppress their response with automatic fire long enough. Don’t engage too long before you retreat.
“The second team of five will be here,” he said, jabbing a finger at the map on the 202 in front of the Penelope and John Dawson Memorial Forest. “I want a flammable barrier set up across the road. The forests on either side will have grown thick and close enough to the road by now that we’ll light up a thousand acres of woodland on both sides from that one point. As soon as you’re safely through, light it up.”
He looked around at them, his eyes shining like a school kid showing off a Christmas present.
“It won’t stop them, but it will slow them down and keep them on the 202 - they won’t risk trying to skirt the fires, it would only leave them open for more ambushes. Once the fire is well ablaze, fall back to this spot. On the map, he pointed to a river. That’s the Contoocook river, and the 202 goes right over it. A two-lane bridge. On this side,” he said, pointing to the eastern side. “We’ll set another barricade, and we’ll position the bulk of our army on the road with more in the trees to hopefully to thin out their ranks some more.”
“So, the idea,” said Luke. “Is to thin their ranks, so it’s a fairer fight when they get to Concord?”
“No, the ambush should sap their resolve some. I want to stop them before they get anywhere near Concord. Right now, I think he has some grand plan about rolling into town and throwing down his ultimatum, which of course he thinks we would accept, given his overwhelming force. He won’t be expecting a punch, let alone a fight. We’ll give him a whole flurry of punches and put him on the canvas before he even reaches the outer suburbs of Concord.”
“Sounds like a great plan,” said Becky.
There were nods of agreement around the table. Even Bowman looked convinced.
“Don’t get me wrong,” said Randall. “This will be tough, and lots of people will die. Ours and theirs. But with a bit of luck, we might just manage to pull through with our city and our freedom intact.”
Randall then took a few minutes to give his senior soldiers their directions. Within minutes the room ha
d cleared.
“Now, we have a bit of housekeeping to attend to,” said the colonel. “We need to send your friends in the robes a request for back up. It should be an easy sell because if we fall, they fall too… eventually. Do you have anyone in Manchester you can send?”
“I have just the person. I’m not sure the Brotherhood will come, but I guess it’s worth a shot.”
“Hmm. On second thought I might send someone too. A uniform and they can take a Hummer. Perhaps that will add some weight to the request.”
“Sounds good.”
“Good, you organize that when you get back, we need to move quickly on this. I’ll send my person to you by 1200 hours. Now, what about these marauder characters? Isaac told me he has some sort of connection with them, is it worth reaching out to them? I have a use for them.”
“Sure, I’ll get on that too.”
“Right. Now I’m pretty sure they’ll be concentrating their efforts on Concord, but there is a possibility they’ll split their attention between us and you in Manchester. If Manchester falls they have a way to come at us from the rear, so I want you to keep all your people and the team I stationed down there. Protect that bridge at all costs, that’s where I think they’ll come at you.”
Luke nodded seriously. The nervous excitement of the news Bowman had brought was wearing off. Fear began to creep into his belly. Fear, not for him, but for Erin and the rest of his people. Surely the life they were just beginning to rebuild wasn’t to be snatched away so quickly?
“I should go,” he said.
“Okay, son.”
Luke walked out of the room, and Becky followed him. They paused outside the door of the office and a little to the left, out of sight of the people in the room. Luke faced Becky and took her by the hand.
“Sorry I have to go so abruptly. I had a really great time last night,” he said. “I hope we can do it again sometime when this is over…”
“Me too. I had an awesome time, and I’ll hold you to it.”
They looked at each other awkwardly for a second then Luke took the plunge and leaned down, kissing her on the lips. She kissed him back, a lingering kiss that only ended when Bowman emerged from the room.
“Oops, sorry,” he said as he went downstairs to the lobby.
“It’s okay,” said Luke, interested that for once it was Becky blushing and not him. He knew what the answer to his next question would be, but thought he’d ask anyway. “Did you want to come back to Manchester with me? It might be safer.”
She shook her head.
“No, my place is here. For now, anyway. Sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry. I understand. Well, I’m outta here, I’ll come and see you as soon as it’s over.”
***
Luke really put the Mustang through its paces on the way home. Time was of the essence, and he wasn’t shy about pushing her to give everything she had.
After a quick debrief with Isaac and the rest of the council, they nominated Paul to be the emissary to the Brotherhood in Portland. Isaac thought there would be more weight to a written missive and quickly went to work drafting something on behalf of both cities.
Isaac also sent Jamal to let Randall’s Concord contingent know the situation and pass on his order to guard the bridge at all costs.
Randall’s nominated emissary to the Brotherhood arrived in a Hummer just before midday. They recognized the soldier from Drake Mountain but didn’t know his name. He looked only a few years younger than Colonel Randall himself and walked with limp.
“I’m John Lockwood,” he said shaking Luke and Isaac’s hands.
Isaac was impressed with Randall’s strategic thinking. Except for Simon and the other prisoners who had been released, Lockwood would be older than anyone the Brothers had seen in a long time. His presence would lend an even greater air of authority to the situation.
“This is Paul,” said Isaac as Paul came rushing down the steps looking a little flustered.
“Hi,” said Paul shaking the older man’s hand.
“You have the letter?” Isaac asked.
Paul reached into his jacket and pulled the folded paper out a little for the others to see. Luke spent a few minutes giving them a briefing on what they might expect from the brothers before they said their goodbyes.
Isaac and Luke watched the hummer go.
“How long do you think it will take them?” asked Isaac.
“Driving? A little over three hours is my guess, depending on the condition of the roads. I reckon it was probably an hour and a half drive back in the old days.”
“Oh good. I thought it would be longer. Do you think they’ll help?”
“I honestly don’t know,” said Luke. “But I have a feeling we’re going to need everyone we can get. Speaking of… do you fancy a ride to Ashland?”
“I think one of us needs to be here,” said Isaac. “Too much to do. What if I go? I’m the one who made a deal with them after the last encounter. I can take Ben with me while you continue organizing things around here.”
“Do you want to take the Mustang?” Luke asked.
“If it’s okay with you.”
Luke looked doubtful, but Isaac couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
“Do I need to remind you that it was me that drove the truck that saved our asses all those years ago when you wouldn’t?”
Luke grinned.
“No dude, you don’t need to remind me. But I also remember the state of that truck by the time we dumped it.” They both laughed, and Luke pulled the keys out of his pocket and dropped them into Isaac’s open hand. “Just don’t scratch it, okay?”
***
“You sure you have to go?” asked Indigo, back in their room. “Can’t you send Ben on his own or with one of the others?”
Isaac shook his head and put his hand on her arm.
“Sorry Indy, I think I need to do this, and the sooner I go, the sooner I’ll be back.”
She looked like she might argue some more but finally nodded.
“Okay, but please be careful,” she said pulling him into a tender hug.
***
Two hours later Isaac and Ben were cruising past a little town called Tilton on the 93 on their way to Ashland, the base of the Marauders. They were both lost in their individual thoughts. Isaac was thinking about worst case scenarios and their best course of action if Concord was to fall. Stay and fight to their almost certain death? Or once again flee?
Ben was thinking about more personal things. The love bug had bitten him hard, and he barely gave the impending attack a second’s thought. He was head over heels in love with Diana and, as the countryside whizzed by, was imagining getting down on bended knee and asking her to marry him.
They were both jerked abruptly from their thoughts when without warning, Ben’s window exploded…
18
Paul was quiet on the run to Portland, Maine. Truth be told, he was a little intimidated by both the big lieutenant and their mission.
For his part, Lieutenant Lockwood tried a few times to make small talk, but clearly, the kid wasn’t in the mood for speaking. He let him be and concentrated on his driving. He was unarmed except for his sidearm but wore a Kevlar vest under his fatigues.
The briefing from Luke before they left was short and sweet. He hadn’t used the exact words, but the main messages he had taken from it were: religious nut bags, unpredictable and possibly sporting a deadly grudge.
Great.
His passenger fell asleep about fifteen miles out of their destination, and Lockwood let him sleep right up till they were crossing the Fore river and heading into the city proper.
“Hey kid,” he said, nudging him with an elbow. It took a second nudge before Paul finally stirred and looked around groggily.
“We’re just entering Portland City. Look alive.”
“Okay,” said Paul, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them with his jacket.
They saw the first buildings of Portland a sh
ort time after, and their first robed brother a few minutes later. The man was an odd sight in a brown monks’ habit and walking a big black Labrador. He looked at them, his mouth dropping open when he saw the gray hair of the uniform clad soldier driving the army vehicle.
They watched the man run into a big building. Lockwood slowed the Hummer down to 15mph. He wanted to give the inhabitants plenty of time to get used to the idea they had some visitors before they reached the city center.
Not long after, they heard bells begin to ring and Paul spied men running this way and that between buildings. Lockwood slowed the Hummer even more as they turned onto Congress street and pulled to a complete stop when faced with a road block fifty yards further on. In the distance, they could see the big building the Brothers had made their headquarters.
“Oh, geez,” whispered Paul.
Behind the barrier, a large group had gathered. The majority were robed in brown with a spattering of black robes amongst them. To a man, they were armed to the teeth and several long guns, both shotguns, and rifles were trained on them.
“Don’t sweat it, kid. Reach under your seat and pull me out that white flag, will you?”
Without taking his eyes off the danger ahead, Paul reached under his seat and felt around blindly until his fingers found a smooth length of wood. He pulled it out and handed it to Lockwood.
Randall’s man held up a hand and slowly began stepping out of the vehicle. As an afterthought, he looked back into the Hummer and smiled at Paul. The kid was as white as a sheet and had a sheen of perspiration on his forehead.
“Relax kid; you look as nervous as a cat shitting a razorblade…”
The rata-ta-tat of automatic gunfire buffeted the door like an invisible giant’s hand. Paul screamed and ducked. Glass sprayed, and Lockwood grimaced in pain as bullets struck his back. The handle of the makeshift white flag slipped from the soldier’s unconscious fingers onto the driver’s seat as he fell to the roadway…
Paul heard shouting, and a cry of pain as the gunfire ceased as abruptly as it had begun. His breath came in small panicked pants as an ominous silence fell over the street.
Fight Like Hell [America Falls Series | Books 1-6] Page 94