Minus America (Book 3): Rebel Cause

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “I always know where I’m going,” he bragged. “Thataway!” He pointed out the front window, making her laugh.

  He couldn’t spare anyone to stay back at the prison to guard it. If someone came to take it, one or two men wouldn’t matter. Brent needed those extra guns out on the road. He planned on taking a tour of Amarillo to see if any of the invaders from the radio broadcast were already there. If not, maybe they could set up some booby-traps, like his days overseas. Even if there were only seven of them, he wasn’t going to give up Amarillo without a fight.

  “Last night, you said we were starting a rebellion,” she stated. “Do you think we have a chance of defending this land with what few people we have?”

  They were inside the city limits of Amarillo, away from the corn fields and prairie around the prison complex. It gave him a new perspective on how empty the world had become. “Only a small percentage of colonists took arms against the British government. It doesn’t take much to win a war if one side wants it a lot more than the other. We learned that in Vietnam back in my day, and in Afghanistan more recently.”

  “Yeah, well, I—”

  Brent caught sight of motion out the front window. “There!” he interrupted. “A plane.”

  It was a big military transport. Essentially the same beast that carried him around while he did his time in the service fifty years ago. He’d recognize the configuration anywhere.

  “It’s coming down,” Trish added, seeing it herself.

  Brent waved for the other vehicles to follow, and he led them on a winding route eastward across the city. Most roads were wide and flat, leaving plenty of room for the abandoned cars to roll and stop, which kept the routes clear in the aftermath. He used that luck to get them close enough to the airport to see more planes landing. They parked out of sight and had to walk a short way along a tree-lined road before he found the perfect vantage point.

  Trish kept close to him. “Those aren’t our boys, are they?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” He wished he’d gone to Walmart as he’d suggested the day before. He desperately needed a set of binoculars for reconnaissance. “That guy on the radio said they were taking over; I think we’re seeing the first wave.”

  “There has to be at least a thousand soldiers over there,” she whispered.

  “More than that,” he deadpanned. Even with his bad eyes, he observed lots of movement from groups of soldiers in dark uniforms. Each of those transports could carry about three hundred soldiers, and there had to be more than twenty planes on the ground with a few in the air. Assuming they were bringing men, rather than equipment, the number of invaders could be in the thousands. And they might have made multiple trips.

  “Are you positive they ain’t ours?” another man asked.

  If those were friendly forces, led by American service members, they’d have patrols roaming the city, helicopters on overwatch, and a protective cordon set up around the airfield itself. The force arriving as he watched showed absolutely no fear about being attacked from outside the airport. Why should they? Everyone in Amarillo was supposed to be dead, and they were the ones who caused it.

  “Boss, what do you want us to do?” one of the men called out from some trees a hundred feet down the roadway.

  Brent scanned the area, sure there had to be a way to fight back against them. Those four-engine jets weren’t cheap. Taking out even one might severely wreck their timetable. However, his decision didn’t come easy. He was about to get them into a war at much worse odds than those colonials ever faced. Whatever the number of colonists who went off to fight, it was more than seven people.

  On the flipside, those early Americans had nothing comparable to the weapons of modern day. As long as there were no fighter jets, one tank could wipe out that entire airfield without getting a scratch on it. Not that he knew where to get a tank.

  However, there were other ways to fight.

  “Retreat, for now. We’re going to come back with the right tools.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Montauk Lighthouse, NY

  Ted and Emily watched out the windows of the lighthouse visitor’s center at the base of the tall spire, but he kept looking over his shoulder due to the creepy vibe inside. The place was filled with the fallen clothing of twenty or thirty tourists who happened to be in there when America was attacked. It made him think back to a similar situation on day one: Andrews Air Force Base had been filled with the same bundles of clothing. He shuddered before looking out at the beach again.

  “You think she’ll bring a helicopter back for us? After getting dirty in the ocean water, it sure would be nice to get a shower on an aircraft carrier.” Emily stood at a nearby window, checking out a different stretch of beach. Because the lighthouse stood at the end of a peninsula, they had a great view of the shoreline in three directions.

  “Yeah, that’s my guess. If she’s coming, it will be the helo.” He patted his AR-15 out of habit.

  “Do you think she’ll show?” she asked.

  As Kyla’s uncle, and the brother responsible for promising her safety, he thought about whether it was right to bring Kyla to shore, even using code words. She was safe where she was, or at least safer than being on the mainland. However, he had to balance her safety with the need to get Emily in the opposite direction. If he got her to the aircraft carrier, it might free him up to concentrate on protecting his niece going forward. Assuming, of course, Emily didn’t tap him for a bigger job now that the nation was at war.

  While he’d been chewing on an answer, a small dot appeared on the horizon to the south. “I think I see something.” He stared, afraid to lose track of it. After half a minute, he was positive what it was. “It’s a transport helicopter, and it’s heading this way.”

  Emily spoke with grave seriousness. “So, do you think she’ll show?”

  He cracked up right away, letting out a deep gulp of tension he’d been saving. “Yeah, that’s probably her. However, I’m not sure I want it to be. The more I think about it, the more I believe it is dangerous to be around us. I should have had them send an empty helicopter to pick us up.” He cocked his head toward her and spoke with dry wit. “Why did you let me agree to this meeting, Madame President?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Stop second-guessing everything. Your instincts are good. Yeah, it’s risky for Kyla, but based on what I saw of her hanging onto that helicopter as it hauled ass out of New York, your niece can take care of herself.”

  He still could hardly believe that was his sister’s daughter. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It looks like the helo is going to touch down about a mile away on the beach.”

  Emily came to his window to get the most direct view. “Yep, they must be worried about an ambush, same as us. Still, it looks like we’ll be getting out of here pretty soon.”

  The dull gray helicopter hovered over a flat expanse of beach, and then descended into a swirling tornado of sand kicked up by the rotor wash. He observed figures climbing from the aircraft and then running into the woods at the edge of the beach. He counted at least six people, maybe up to ten. “Damn, it’s like they planned it that way. I couldn’t see the crew unload, so I don’t know how many we’re dealing with.”

  “What’s that?” she asked as she tapped his shoulder and pointed into the air.

  “Shit, a drone!” he snapped.

  There wasn’t anything he could do but watch out the window. The pilot of the helicopter never stopped spinning the blades, so he was quick to dust off as soon as his people were out. Ted assumed the pilot knew he’d been spotted when he banked hard to the right and flew a few yards above the water. The Predator drone veered off its predetermined course to pursue.

  “Go!” Ted shouted.

  The pilot went out to sea for a short time before he banked and headed for shore. As Ted watched the two aircraft close distance with each other, he lost sight of the helicopter behind some trees. The drone swooped in and descended below the tree line after it. For the n
ext few seconds, he watched with the expectation there’d be an explosion.

  After half a minute of not seeing anything, he realized Emily’s hand was still on his shoulder. Her fingernails dug into his skin as they watched. However, he didn’t want to ask her to remove it; the human contact reassured him he wasn’t alone against the entire world.

  Eventually, she seemed to notice what she’d done. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know my own strength.” She slapped him on the shoulder, laughing gently.

  “It’s okay. I didn’t see if there was an explosion. Did you see anything?” She was standing a foot away, so he didn’t expect her to see anything different.

  “They both went out of sight, but I didn’t see any smoke or fire. You think he made it out?”

  “Dunno. However, we’ve lost sight of the incoming men. I think we should abandon this location and get somewhere we can re-establish visual contact. I want to see how many there are, where they’re going, and if Kyla is with them. If we stay here, they can walk right through those woods without us knowing a thing about them when they get here.”

  “I won’t argue tactics with my general,” she joked.

  “Major, ma’am,” he said in a formal tone. “My rank is major.”

  “You bumped me up to president,” she said sarcastically, “So I’m bumping you up to general.”

  He hastened toward the door but halted as if to think it over. “General MacInnis. I like it, but that’s one hell of a battlefield frocking. I don’t even think regulations will let me skip lieutenant colonel and full-bird colonel.”

  She strode past him and opened the door. “I can’t have an army without a general. As long as you keep calling me president, I’m going to call you general. We can argue pay grades and deal with HR when we’re on that carrier.”

  All he wanted was to get Kyla safe. Battlefield ranks meant squat when there were no men to lead. Even the pay bonus didn’t mean a thing when the entire economy of the United States was gone. Still, playing her game was a worthy distraction to balance out the hopelessness of being the only two people in the US military chain of command in America.

  “I do as you order, Madame president,” he said as he followed her outside.

  Chicago, IL

  Tabby was filled with fear as she walked the dark tunnels looking for a way out. A great deal of it had to do with seeing Donovan get shot. The replay ran over and over in her memory and wouldn’t turn off. Could she have anticipated it? Should she have insisted on staying in front of the kids? Was she to blame for the result?

  The water up to her knees didn’t help.

  Peter spoke to Audrey, who was shivering again. “Hey, babe, I would never complain about how you dress, but you somehow seem to always end up cold, despite it being summer outside. If we get out of here, maybe we should find you some long pants?”

  The teen girl forced herself to laugh. “I’ll be fine.” It sounded hollow to Tabby, though her guilt-ridden brain immediately attributed it to how much the girl probably blamed her for allowing Donovan to die. It also could have been because the girl wore super-short jean shorts and a spaghetti-strap top, leaving her long legs exposed to the cold water. Audrey finally added, “Tabby will get us out of here, just like she did down in those mines.”

  Tabby perked up, glad to hear some words of encouragement. She stopped and turned around, keeping the light pointed down. “I’m so sorry about Donovan. I can’t even imagine how you two must feel.”

  Peter and Audrey held hands, as they did almost all the time. They shared a look before Peter replied. “Don’t worry about it. There’s no way you could have done anything back there. Right now, all that matters is getting out of these tunnels.”

  Audrey jumped in. “And when we get out of here, we’ll honor Donny like he deserves. He wouldn’t want us to endanger ourselves with a memorial until we’re all safe.”

  Tabby wanted to break down in tears on the spot, but she bit her tongue to stop the waterworks. It was tough enough leading the kids away from danger, but it would be impossible if she let herself turn into an emotional dumpster fire. She bowed her head for a second, then spun in the water to walk some more. “This way.”

  A few minutes later, she saw some light beaming from a grate above them. When they walked underneath, she found a ladder going up. “I’m going to check it out. You two stay here.”

  She climbed up the gritty metal bars about ten feet to reach the crisscrossed metal lid. Tabby watched through the slats for a few seconds, but all she saw were clouds and smoke from the fires. After taking a deep breath, she slid her fingers through the slats, intending to lift the lid and peek out. However, as she got it about an inch off its ledge, a shape up top slammed it back down.

  “Crackers!” she blurted, channeling her conversation with Audrey the day before about a never-to-be-uttered C-word.

  A metal foot pressed on the grate, then stepped off.

  Tabby froze as the mechanical horse trotted by; her only movement was to pull her fingers back down. However, she heard its gears whir as it turned around.

  It found us, she thought, instantly thinking how she could escape.

  There was nowhere to go. If she climbed down, she wouldn’t have time to make it. If she tried to get out, she would probably be chopped in half by a gun. The only thing she could do was freeze. As the machine arrived, she turned her face down, so at least it wouldn’t identify her.

  The mechanical leg hit the grate, then tapped it a few times. She sensed it was inches from her face—a fact she could have seen for herself if she’d looked up.

  Go away.

  The horse-robot must have stood there for a full minute. Tabby’s arms burned from holding herself still on the ladder, but she was willing to die rather than relieve the pressure. The motors revved on the robot and it backed away from the grating. She sensed the light level increase as it cleared out.

  “It’s gone,” Peter whispered from below. “Get out of there.”

  She opened her eyes, checked above to ensure it was really gone, then scurried down the ladder. As soon as she touched the water, she got away from the access point, so if it came back again, it would have nothing to see down in the sewer. “Follow me.”

  She walked for at least an hour. It was hard to say what direction they were going, but she did her best to go one way, rather than wandering in loops. She went straight at every intersection, hoping she was going anywhere but east. That would cause her to hit Lake Michigan.

  When Tabby was satisfied they’d gone far enough, she found another grate and climbed to open it. She was almost positive there wouldn’t be anyone up above unless they guarded every entrance to the sewer system for miles around, which seemed impossible. When she lifted this grate, no one stepped on it.

  “It’s a park,” she said quietly. “And I see bicycles. We’re taking them.”

  Tabby climbed out next to a basketball court in a municipal park. A few aging apartment buildings flanked the woodland property, as well as some large trees, but there were no drones. “Come on up, guys. We’re getting out of the city.”

  Audrey had climbed up after her, but as she reached to help her out, Peter screamed in pain below them.

  “Not again!” she shouted.

  CHAPTER 6

  Montauk Lighthouse, NY

  Kyla’s stomach played the part of a spinning roulette ball as the helicopter swooped down and reached the beach. “I’m going to be sick,” she said to herself.

  For a short time, the lighthouse was visible about a mile away, but then a curtain of sand surrounded the aircraft as it touched down. Her tummy finally found its proper pocket when she jumped onto firm ground.

  “I’m starting to hate helicopters,” she yelled to Meechum, who ran next to her as they both headed for the trees beyond the sand. The other woman didn’t acknowledge her, likely because it was far too loud to hear anything.

  The helicopter powered up and lifted off while she was still on the run. More sa
nd blew at her backside, but it quickly went away as the rotors gained altitude. Once she was in a safe spot, she looked back to watch the big military machine fly away. However, men began to yell at her to get down, which she did instantly.

  The helicopter flew low to the water, but another aircraft was circling it a couple hundred feet above.

  “It’s a Predator!” one of the Navy guys shouted.

  Van Nuys stood closest to the beach, unafraid to be seen. It appeared as if he wanted to see what was going to happen to his pilot. “The bastard has two Hellfires with the Seahawk’s name on it.”

  A couple of seconds later, the drone launched one of its missiles. It came down at a steep angle due to the relative altitudes, but the pilot of the helicopter countered by swooping up and sideways. The missile flew in the ocean but didn’t send up a giant plume of water like she expected.

  The helicopter sped off to the west around the curvature of the land, and the drone dropped in behind, but it was impossible to see what happened after that.

  “Dammit all,” Van Nuys snapped. “If I had just one spare pilot, I could have a Super Hornet chewing up these Predators like a wolf through the sheep herd.”

  “Why don’t you, sir?” Kyla asked with a voice far too timid for her liking. He was in charge of a super carrier, plus the other Marine ship, and he’d already sent planes into New York City, so why weren’t they overhead at that moment?

  The captain turned to her with sad eyes. “The enemy has more than those drones. They’re landing all kinds of tech back in Newark. The few planes we have operational have to guard both the Iwo and the JFK.” He walked past her toward the forest. “Come on, let’s find your uncle.”

  She peered out over the water, hoping the pilot made it to safety. She’d never been on a helicopter before yesterday, and already she’d taken three rides. She couldn’t imagine being a pilot, like Uncle Ted, and having to deal with the stress of flight every time they went up, much less avoiding missiles and whatever else was coming for them.