The Road Home

by Robert Boren

  “Okay, we’ll let you guys go,” Gallagher said. “Good luck!”

  “Thank you, sir,” Jason said.

  The call ended, and Clancy went to work unhooking his equipment.

  “All right, everybody, let’s get out of here!” Kelly shouted.

  “I’ll stop and get the dozer and the dynamite,” Clancy said to Jason.

  “Make sure you have another vehicle or two with you, okay?” Jason asked.

  “You got it,” Clancy said.

  “I’ll go with him,” Stanton Hunt said.

  “Me too,” Chance said. “I’ll bring my truck. It’s got a good tow rating.”

  “Want me to tag along too?” Dirk asked.

  “Nah, two vehicles are enough for an escort,” Clancy said. “This is only gonna take about fifteen minutes.”

  Chance nodded, and then his phone dinged. He looked at it. Email message? From the recruiting site?

  “You okay, man?” Dirk asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s get going.”

  The group left the clubhouse.

  Chapter 9 - Stadium

  Alex was behind the wheel of the Tahoe, Kitten sleeping in the passenger seat. They blasted down I-820, closing on North Richland Hills, Doug’s Wrangler Unlimited ahead of them. Kitten’s phone dinged with an email. “Wonder who that could be?” he said to himself. Kitten stirred.

  “Whaaa?” she asked, eyes barely open.

  “Nothing,” Alex said. “We’re just over half-way there.”

  She sat up straight and shook her head, trying to wake up. “Where are we?”

  “Just about to North Richland Hills.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Remember to get off I-820 just past there. It goes south. We need to continue east on that toll road. Highway 183.”

  “I’m watching for it,” he said. “Glad you could sleep a little.”

  She stretched and shook her head again. “Wish you could sleep some.”

  “I took a nap while you were at work. All you had time to do was take a shower, remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember,” she said, picking her phone up from the center console.

  “I heard an email come in,” Alex said, glancing at her for a moment.

  “Really?” she asked, unlocking the screen. Her eyes got wide as she saw the email notification banner.

  “Somebody you know?” Alex asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said, tapping on the notification. The sender wasn’t a name. It was just a code. She tapped it, her heart racing as it opened.

  Kitten. Thank God. Are you okay? Don’t say where you are. This is supposed to be encrypted but I don’t trust it. I’ve missed you so much. We’ll be coming home soon. I want to see you again. Chance.

  She smiled to herself, tears running down her cheeks. Alex noticed.

  “Are you okay, honey?”

  “Yes, dad, I’m fine,” she said, wiping her eyes quickly. “I heard back from Chance.”

  “Oh, so you did send him a message,” Alex said, grinning at her.

  “Don’t tease me,” she said. “Please?”

  “Okay, no problem,” he said, watching the road as they took the interchange to Highway 183. “He’s fine?”

  “Yes, and he said they’re coming home soon.”

  “That’s great news,” Alex said. “I miss those folks. Wish we would’ve followed them into New Mexico.”

  “I know. We’d best focus on the job we have to do. It’s just as dangerous as what they’re doing, you know.”

  Alex was silent for a moment.

  “Dad?”

  “Oh, sorry,” he said. “Yes, it’ll be dangerous, and I don’t want you doing anything stupid, okay?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ll mainly be a medic, remember?”

  “They’re in the line of fire,” Alex said.

  “I know, but I have to do my part, and by the way, don’t you do anything stupid either.”

  They rode silently for a while, both in their own heads, the fear and excitement growing in them as they neared Irving.

  “Do you know what the address is?” Kitten asked.

  “Hasn’t come through yet,” he said. “We should be getting something soon.”

  “What if it doesn’t come before we get to Irving?”

  “We hang out for a while, I guess,” Alex said. “I could use a snack. Maybe even a nap if we’ve got time.”

  “You’ve got another fork in the road coming,” Kitten said. “Stay on Highway 183.”

  “Got it,” Alex said as they rolled through the interchange. “More traffic than I expected, and it’s going the same way we are.”

  “If we’ve really got a couple hundred thousand recruits coming, we’ll see lots of traffic.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “Wonder who’s running the strategy?”

  “It doesn’t say on the recruiting page,” Kitten said.

  “Maybe it’s Don or Sydney,” Alex said.

  “I doubt it. Maybe one of the Texas Leadership team. They were pretty tight with the Fort Stockton group. Especially Jason and Kyle, remember?”

  “Austin PD,” Alex said. “They’re tied in through Chief Ramsey, who’s a close personal friend of Governor Nelson.”

  “That’s what Chance told me. We’re getting close to Irving.”

  “Wonder why Irving?” Alex asked. “Why not just cruise into Dallas?”

  Kitten put the phone to her face, moving her fingertips on the screen. “Judging by the long-range app, Irving has a good corridor to attack the closest large clump of enemy fighters.”

  “What corridor?”

  “The park along the Trinity River,” she said, “which is the southern boundary of a large industrial area. The first group of enemy fighters are camped out in warehouses there. We could enter from the park road. It’s out of the Dallas traffic.”

  “How big is the group of enemy fighters there?”

  “Looks like about fifty thousand at that first location. There’s a larger group further down along the same corridor. That one looks like around a hundred thousand.”

  “Geez,” Alex said. Both their phones dinged with text messages.

  “I’ll look,” she said, glancing at him as she went to her message app. “It’s the location.”

  “Where?”

  “Irving High School,” she said.

  “Which off-ramp?”

  “I’m looking at that now,” Kitten said. “There’s a cloverleaf coming up. Take the ramp onto Highway 356. It’s probably called West Irving Boulevard.”

  “Just saw a sign for that. We’re a few miles away yet.”

  “Good,” Kitten said. “That will dump onto Second Street. Take that, and then we have several routes to Sixth Street. The school complex is at Sixth and Lucille. That might be a good way. Looks pretty wide.”

  “Any enemy fighters around there?”

  “Nope, the closest ones are in that industrial area I was just talking about. As we get further into Dallas they’re spread out more. I’ll bet those industrial areas are staging points.”

  “Wonder if the enemy is still pumping fighters into the city?” Alex asked.

  “The recruitment page says they are, but they might say that to add urgency to the pitch.”

  Alex laughed. “Cynical already?”

  She looked at him and grinned. “You know it’s always good to take everything with a grain of salt. Part of the genius of Don and Sydney is the way they write copy. It’s good advertising.”

  “There’s our interchange,” Alex said, following Doug’s Wrangler. “Guess he figured out where to get off.”

  “I texted him.”

  Alex laughed. “Figures. You can be a take-charge woman when you want to be.”

  She turned and looked behind them. “There’s a large line of vehicles behind us. Wonder if they’re all recruits?”

  Alex glanced at his rearview mirror, eyes getting wide. “Wow. As far back as I can see, coming off the h
ighway.”

  “Slow down, the road gets thinner coming up,” Kitten said, still looking at her phone. “You’ll have the choice to stay on West Irving or take the right-hand fork onto Second. Take Second.”

  “Got it,” Alex said, his eyes darting from the road ahead to the rearview mirror every few seconds. “There’s a lot of people ahead of us now.”

  “Yep,” Kitten said. “Doug just took the fork to Second Street.”

  Alex shot her a grin. “You tell him that too?”

  “Nope, he figured that one out by himself. Must suck to be driving without a passenger to navigate.”

  They got onto Second Street and slowed down, the area residential with homes, parks, stores, and churches lining both sides of the street.

  “Keep your eyes open for Lucille Street,” Kitten said. “With all these trees, the sign might be hard to see. Look for a church on the left. It’s big and it looks like Noah’s Ark.”

  Alex chuckled. “That ought to stick out like a sore thumb.”

  “There it is! See it?”

  Alex smiled, eyes not leaving the road. “Yeah, I see it. Look at all the cars turning there.”

  “Yeah, guess it’s not hard to miss after all.” They watched Doug make the right turn and followed him down the small residential street.

  “Which side is the school on?” Alex asked.

  “Left side. There’s a huge parking lot next to the stadium. Make a left on Sixth Street and go to the third driveway.”

  “Whoa,” Alex said, looking at the stoppage of cars ahead. “That doesn’t look good. Wonder what’s going on?”

  “Traffic jam,” Kitten said.

  “Hopefully this means we’ve gotten more than enough recruits.”

  Kitten looked at him, nodding in agreement, then going back to the phone app again. “No enemy around. It should be safe.”

  “There’s a guy on a bicycle coming,” Alex said. “He’s stopping at each of the cars up there.”

  They watched as he approached, spending a moment or two at each car in line. He finally got to them. Alex shut off his engine and rolled down his window.

  “Recruits?” the young man asked.

  “Yep,” Alex said. “There a problem up there?”

  He smiled. “The kind of problem we want. There’s not enough parking because more people showed than we expected. We’ve filled up all the parking lots and all the grassy areas except for the football stadium.”

  “You going to open that up?”

  “No, it’s a single lane to get in,” the young man said. “Too much of a trap. With as many people as we’ve got here, we’re liable to gain some attention we don’t want.”

  “What should we do?” Kitten asked.

  “Sit tight, and have patience,” he said. “We’ve got somebody directing traffic, and we’re looking for alternate spots to park. If you see an opening on the curb, grab it, but most of those were gone an hour ago.”

  “How many people do we have so far?” Alex asked.

  “Last count, about eighty thousand,” he said. “There’s more coming in, though. A lot more.”

  Alex smiled. “You’re right, it’s a good problem to have.”

  “We’ll be patient,” Kitten said.

  The young man nodded, smiling at her, and rode to the vehicle behind them. It was a dirty old pickup truck, the bed filled with young men.

  “This is insane,” Alex said. “Maybe bad planning. Hope not.”

  “I’ll bet it’s just an under-estimation of how many people wanted to join the fight.”

  Their phones dinged with text messages. They both read, since they were no longer moving.

  “Who’s Major General Gallagher?” Kitten asked.

  Alex looked over at her. “He’s one of the top military advisors on Governor Nelson’s staff.”

  “Oh. I remember now.”

  “Sounds like we’re walking the rest of the way,” Alex said. “It said bring a gun. Let’s go.” He got out, heading for the tailgate. Kitten joined him, and he handed the Mini 14 to her. He took the AK-47 and stuffed some ammo into his pockets. They joined the multitude walking to the school.

  “Can you believe this?” Doug asked as they caught up to him.

  “Insane,” Alex said.

  The school was only two blocks away. There was a young man in a National Guard uniform directing people to the football stadium.

  “So many volunteers,” Kitten said, looking around at the heavily armed people from all walks of life and all age groups, some smiling and laughing, others trudging along with grim determination.

  They made it to the football stadium, climbing onto the bleachers, sitting down about midway from the top.

  “These bleachers will fill up fast,” Doug said.

  “The other side is full already,” Kitten said. “Look at that. People are filling in on the track and the field.”

  “There’s a podium, on that little makeshift stage,” Alex said, “and look at those PA speakers.”

  They sat watching for almost ten minutes, as the stadium filled up, standing room only. Then several armed National Guard troops cleared a path on the field, helping somebody get to the podium. He came into view as he climbed on the stage, a grizzled old military man with an untidy uniform on, a cigar hanging out of his mouth.

  “That’s Gallagher,” Doug said. “I’ve seen his picture before.”

  “He’s got an imposing presence, doesn’t he?” Kitten asked, watching him get closer to the mike, turning to chat with one of his lieutenants.

  “Hope they have good security here,” Alex said. “From what I’ve read, we need this guy.”

  “This thing on?” Gallagher asked, tapping the microphone, the sound filling the stadium.

  “We hear you, sir!” shouted somebody from the bleachers. A cheer roared from the crowd.

  “I guess that’s a yes,” Gallagher said, looking out over the crowd in all directions. “Thank you for coming to help Dallas. You have no idea how important you are.”

  The crowd cheered again.

  He watched, putting his cigar into his mouth for a long puff, then holding it and approaching the microphone again.

  “Most of you know what we’re up against. There are many thousands of invaders hidden in Dallas. We’re gonna hit their first staging point. There’s between forty and fifty thousand enemy troops there. We’re gonna soften up their position with grenade launchers mounted on our off-roaders. We’ll follow that up with mortar teams we’ve brought from the National Guard, and then it’ll be up to all of you to storm the area, occupy it, and get ready to hit the bigger target several blocks to the east.”

  The crowd followed his every word, with barely a murmur.

  “This isn’t our only rendezvous location,” Gallagher continued. “We have another to the north, one to the south, and one to the east of Dallas. We have effectively surrounded the city. We’ll catch the enemy with their pants down on this first attack, but after that, they’ll be ready for us, and will hit us with everything they’ve got. Some of you won’t live through today. Do you all understand?”

  “We understand!” shouted somebody from the field, the crowd rising to cheer again.

  “Let me at ‘em!” shouted somebody a couple rows up from Alex and the others.

  “We’ll meet in the park along the Trinity River, joining those heavily armed off-roaders I mentioned, and the National Guard mortar teams. They’ll go in first, you’ll follow. Those of you who’ve had military experience, show people around you what to do. We need to learn fast, and we’ll have to fight like our lives depend on it, because our lives do depend on it.”

  The crowd cheered again, Gallagher taking another long puff while he waited for it to die down. Then he started again.

  “We don’t need to tell you where the enemy is. You can see them on the apps. It’s the closest batch of RFID hits. We’ll take East Irving Boulevard to get to the park. There’s more than one way to get there. Use your GP
S, but keep moving. As we’re almost across the river bed on the bridge, turn right and take the access road down. The gate has been removed. Park east of North Westmoreland Road. We’ll flood into the industrial area via several large openings, but know that you’ll get shot at, so keep your heads down and be aware of your surroundings at all times. Do you understand?”

  “When are we going to attack?” shouted somebody from the bleachers.

  “Now,” Gallagher said. “It’ll be a traffic mess getting out of here, so be patient. We’ll all get there.” He leaned to one of the other officers, having a hushed conversation.

  “New info?” Doug asked, watching the exchange on stage.

  “We’ll find out, I suspect,” Alex said. Gallagher got back in front of the microphone.

  “The enemy hasn’t budged from where they’ve been for the last twenty-four hours, so we probably still have surprise on our side. As we approach North Westmoreland Road, keep your voices down. If you’ve got loud vehicles, park them further back. Use the whole grassy area; there should be plenty of space. Good luck and Godspeed.”

  He waved as the crowd cheered and disappeared with the detail of National Guard troops.

  “Well, that’s our orders,” Doug said, standing. They headed back to their cars to join the flood of patriots.

  Chapter 10 – Battle Barge

  Brendan drove the truck, Hannah in the passenger seat. They were almost to their new base, taking the big curve down Randolph AFB Road.

  “Slow down, sweetie, there’s a gate,” Hannah said.

  “Wow, a manned gate, no less,” Brendan said as he rolled to a stop next to the guard shack. A man in uniform came to his window.

  “Are you with Captain Richardson’s detail?”

  “Yes sir,” Brendan said. “Same with the two trucks following me.”

  “Okay, follow this road and make a left where it ends. You can park your vehicle at the flat spot between the two sides of Jacobs Creek Park Road. There are wagons there to load your items, and a crew at the waterside to take you to the base.”

  “Thanks,” Brendan said. The guard nodded and pushed a button, raising the arm on the gate. He drove forward, Richardson pulling up behind and having a brief chat with the guard, then driving through the gate, the other trucks following. They met at the parking area.