“From what I heard Darrel was his first shot,” Ben said slowly. “Darby was dodging when the second shot hit him.”
Chase frowned. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah,” Nick shook his head. “It happened fast, but they're pretty sure it was in that order.”
“But this was during the town meeting Darby was leading, right?” the young man pressed. “When the Mayor was standing by the hole in the barricade and completely exposed? Did Darrel see the danger and jump in front of him or something?”
Nick shook his head again, although he had an idea where this was going. “No, it took everyone completely by surprise.”
Chet snorted grimly. “So Jay, or whoever the sniper was, had the goal to shoot Mayor Darby in the middle of the meeting, but hated Darrel so much he decided to shoot him first?”
Nick exchanged glances with the other scavengers. “Can you blame him?” Ben finally asked. “He'd be my first target too, if I was the sort of cowardly murderer who'd shoot an unsuspecting person from hundreds of yards away.”
It seemed like the team wasn't nearly as disturbed by the attack as the people in town talking over the radio had been. Nick wondered if it was because of their status as borderline outsiders. “Darrel may have been a jerk,” he said sternly, “but his only crime was doing his best to protect his town.”
There was a somewhat abashed silence. Then Val cleared her throat. “If you think about it, though, since he was in charge of turning people away at the borders, he was basically the face of the town. So when he antagonized everyone he met he gave Stanberry a bad reputation.” She shook her head. “Not to mention the way he talked to Jay and the Wensbrook survivors.”
Charlie nodded. “He really was the worst person for the job, although it stands to reason the only way he got it was nepotism, being the Mayor's cousin and all. I still wouldn't say he had it coming, since Nick's right that he didn't do anything to deserve it, but he definitely gave the guys who hate us plenty of incentive to shoot him.”
Nick shook his head. “The big thing is that Jay's gone way beyond burning down abandoned houses now. He killed people today, and hurt way more.”
A grim silence settled over his group for a minute or so. “We're going to have to do more than just tighten security and send out more patrols,” Chet finally declared. “That's obviously not working.”
“Yeah.” Nick stared into the distance, absently adjusting his grip on his rifle. He didn't want to see his friends hurt in a fight, but what choice did they have when Jay was using bombs and sniping from hundreds of yards away? “The question is, what do we do?”
✽✽✽
Larry jumped to his feet and stormed towards Jay's truck as it pulled into the makeshift parking lot by their camp.
Jay hopped out of the driver's side, but before Larry could start laying into him Chuck Northam, a squirrelly little guy who'd sometimes gone hunting with him and Jay and their friends, darted around from the passenger's side and stepped into his path.
“Got something to say?” Chuck growled.
“Not to you,” Larry snapped back.
Chuck reddened, but didn't get out of his way. The guy had been weaseling his way closer to Jay ever since Larry had convinced everyone to abandon the fight, just before half their town burned. Since then Larry had kept his distance from their leader, too defeated to keep trying to convince him or their friends to stop this madness.
With him out of the picture Chuck had been all too happy to step into that space, becoming Jay's good little crony. He was the one who'd helped Jay design the bombs they'd used for their attack, although Larry didn't want to know why the guy had been walking around with that sort of knowledge.
Chuck fancied himself second in command of the group, but nobody respected him enough to take him seriously; they mostly ignored his attempts to lord it over them, unless his orders came directly from Jay.
Although with this successful attack that might change.
Larry was more than happy to keep showing the little weasel the contempt he deserved, especially after what Jay had just done. So he stepped around him, shouldering him aside when Chuck tried to stop him, and kept right on going to get in Jay's face.
“What the blazes was that?” he shouted, loud enough for everyone in both camps to hear.
His friend feigned confusion, although his face was flushed and his eyes gleamed with triumph. “You're going to have to be more specific.”
“Don't give me that BS!” Larry snarled. “Since when was assassinating Stanberry's leaders part of the plan?”
Jay grinned in a way that was almost disturbing at that, ducking around him to saunter towards the camp. He pretended not to see everyone's eyes on him, but his words were louder than necessary. “It was always part of the plan. I just told you the part you needed to know.”
Larry grit his teeth and chased after him. “You think we didn't need to know that you were going to use the trucks as a distraction to straight up murder two people? I couldn't even get behind driving bombs towards their barricades, even though you told us the sentries would be able to get to cover in time and nobody would be hurt. Which didn't happen, judging by the screams I heard.”
He paused, looking around the camp at all their friends. “But this, Jay? This is so far over the line I don't think you can even see it anymore.”
“How is it over the line to end the war by killing their leaders, the people responsible for all this, instead of a lot of innocent people in the fighting?” Jay snapped, whirling to face him. “It's the entire cutting the head off the snake thing. The smart way to do things.”
“This is crazy,” Larry said quietly. “I'm starting to think you're crazy.”
His friend's eyes flashed, but he turned away towards the watching crowd and raised his voice. “How about you guys? Any of you have a problem with me putting a bullet into that POS Darrel, or that weaselly thief Darby? Doing what it takes to end this war. Anyone?”
Larry turned to look at their friends, and felt a leaden sense of defeat when they all just stared at the ground and fidgeted. Aside from those like Chuck who either smirked at Larry or glared murder at him.
Jay shook his head sadly and clapped Larry on the shoulder. “I don't like the bloodshed any more than you do, man, but we're doing what we need to do. If we keep this up, before long Stanberry will give up and give us what we want.”
What do we even want? Larry thought hopelessly. It had been a while since Jay had even mentioned getting back what Stanberry stole from them, or any other sort of reparations. Not since the beginning, actually.
Because their leader didn't care about any of that. He wanted vengeance, and it almost seemed like he enjoyed making the people he viewed as his enemies suffer. It scared the heck out of Larry.
Maybe that was why he gave up there and let Jay and Chuck continue on to settle down around the fire, while he stormed over to his tent. He half expected Liza, who'd been watching the confrontation from nearby, to come and get on his case, demand he keep trying to talk sense into someone who refused to see it. Or she'd want to complain about the state of things with him, with both of them seeming powerless to do anything about it.
But the young woman didn't make any move to follow him; maybe it was the forbidding scowl on his face.
As he unzipped the door of his tent he snuck a glance behind him, wanting to see if anyone was even sympathetic enough to his argument to be staring after him. But it looked as if they were all either intent on their own thing or listening to Jay, who was regaling everyone around the fire with the grisly details of how he'd snuck up and murdered two men, then successfully escaped.
Larry watched it all with a sense of crushing weariness, tired down to the depths of his soul. He knew he should be doing something, stopping Jay or convincing anyone who'd listen to leave or something, but it just felt like he'd lost his chance. Lost it back when Stanberry burned down their houses and Jay spurred everyone back into this war.
&
nbsp; Why bother, now? People wanted to do it Jay's way, no matter how insane the man got.
Larry had thought better of his lifelong friends and neighbors. But then, he'd thought better of himself, too.
And here he was, huddling in his tent like a coward as his friends became . . . whatever they were becoming.
Nothing good.
✽✽✽
Nick had noticed that Jay had a tendency to do something big, then sit back for a while and let them stew.
You could never be sure with that nutjob, but he had a feeling the Wensbrook thugs wouldn't do anything else today. He didn't let down his guard, of course, but he wasn't too surprised that there'd been no further trouble by the time he finished his shift and headed back to the camp.
On the way he visited Ellie and Hal. Their honeymoon, such as it was, had been disrupted by Jay's attack, so they'd spent the afternoon shoring up the defenses in their small camp. They'd also put in a good hour practicing shooting at their little range alongside the two bigger ranges.
“How you holding up?” Nick asked his ex-wife and son.
“Feeling vulnerable in our location,” she admitted, hugging Ricky a bit tighter.
Ricky nodded, frowning. “I really wish they'd let us into town.”
Nick started to suggest they might try asking again, since Darby and Darrel had been the main ones opposing people who'd been through their quarantine period being let into town, then decided that even if it was true, it would be in bad taste.
Besides, the Mayor was still hanging in there, thankfully.
“I'll be out here looking out for you,” he promised his son.
Ricky shifted uncomfortably. “Can't you go out and stop them? Even though you try really hard, Jay always wins with his attacks.”
Ouch. What was even worse was that Nick knew Ricky was right. “Well, we know where their camp is,” he said. “I'm going to go talk to Denny right now . . . maybe we can think of something to do.”
“Good,” Ellie said fiercely, surprising him. “I know I've been on the side of deescalating the conflict, but Jay's out of control and needs to be stopped. Did you know Mrs. Gerson got a concussion from the explosion, and Gen was only twenty or so feet from Mayor Darby and Darrel, on the wall, when they were shot?”
Nick felt his heart clench at that. No, he hadn't known. “Is she okay?”
“She is. She was afraid you'd worry so she wrote you a note.” Ellie held up a wrinkled paper wrapped around a rock, hefting it in his direction.
He quickly ducked to pick it up, unwrapping the note and reading eagerly. It was short, just a few lines:
“Nick,
Just wanted to make sure you knew I'm safe, with all the craziness at the barricades. I'm praying for you . . . wish you could be here with me. Just promise you'll be careful out there, okay?
Love you,
Gen.”
I promise, he thought, gently folding the note and tucking it into his pocket beside the others. But what he couldn't promise was that he wouldn't take any risks. Because Jay's attack had put her in danger, and it was obvious the man was only going to do worse from here.
He needed to be stopped.
“Thanks,” Nick said, flashing Ellie and Ricky a reassuring smile. “Hang in there . . . I'll let you know what we decide to do.”
He made his way into the survivors' camp, stopping by the scavengers' section to put away his gear and hug Tallie close for a few minutes. It was obvious she'd missed him, especially with all the frightening events of the attack, and she clung to him tight the entire time.
He wanted to bring her with him when he went in search of Denny, but he had a feeling their topic of conversation wasn't going to be appropriate for a five-year-old.
So he reluctantly kissed her on the cheek and handed her back to Aimee. “Thanks for being so great about watching her,” he said.
“Of course,” the young woman said, cuddling the sulking girl and trying to distract her with a candy bar. Which worked pretty well; soon Tallie was munching happily.
Nick gave his daughter a last wave goodbye, then strode through camp towards the impromptu command tent where Denny organized patrols and sentry shifts.
He found the man there, slumped in a chair staring up at the cloth roof. Although the moment Denny realized it was Nick who'd just walked in he immediately leapt to his feet, some of his energy restored. “There you are.”
Nick blinked. “Did you need me? I was just on my shift.”
Denny waved that away. “You and your group clapped eyes on Jay's camp. Starr wanted to get a description of its layout, as detailed as you can manage. Come on.”
The man ducked out of the tent, and Nick followed him towards the border between the survivors' camp and the main camp. Once there they had to wait a minute or two while someone ran and grabbed the old veteran.
“So we're thinking about hitting the camp?” Nick asked.
Denny snorted. “Hitting it? We're thinking about dealing with it for good.”
Nick hoped the man wasn't talking about anything too drastic, but before he could press for details Starr strode up, flanked by a handful of his team leaders. “All right, Statton,” he said briskly. “Tell me all about Jay's camp . . . approaches, terrain, layout, defenses, everything you can remember.”
That took longer than expected, mostly because Starr had specific questions to ask. Details that Nick hadn't paid much attention to at the time, so he had to strain to remember.
Finally, though, he must've painted a picture of the camp that satisfied the older man, because Starr grunted and settled back on his heels. “That'll do, assuming you remembered correctly.”
Nick certainly hoped he had. “What exactly is our plan here?”
“To hit that camp and send Jay and his maniacs packing,” Starr growled. “Then make sure they stay gone, if we can. Enough is enough.”
Nick certainly agreed with the sentiment, although it wasn't exactly that simple. “It's going to be just the survivors in this attack, right? Do we have the numbers or the training to hit a group like that?”
“In a straight up firefight?” The old veteran shrugged. “Even if we caught them by surprise, it'd be dicey. And even if we won handily, it would probably involve a lot of deaths. Luckily we have another option.”
He motioned to one of the team leaders with him, who was lugging a duffel bag. The man dropped into a crouch to open it and withdrew a long length of thick elastic cord, attached to a bucket in the center. It was pretty easy to identify.
Nick raised an eyebrow. “That's what I think it is, right?”
“One of a dozen giant slingshots,” Starr agreed grimly. He pulled a section of cord tight, then released it with a deep-sounding thrum. “Pretty much the same tactic Jay used against us with his Zolos attack, but we spent a bit more time on these. They should shoot twice as far.” He slapped the bucket that would form the pocket of the giant slingshot. “And this should be fireproof, with a rope for us to hold while we pull it back to launch so we can stay far from the flames.”
“Flames?” Nick asked uneasily.
The old veteran nodded. “Balls of rags soaked in gasoline and wrapped around rocks to help increase their range. Should do the job of burning up all Jay's tents, vehicles, and supplies.”
That was all well and good, but tents, vehicles, and supplies wouldn't be the only things in that camp. “What about the people in there?” Nick protested. “I thought you wanted to make them leave without a lot of deaths . . . being burned alive is one of the worst ways to go.”
“We'll do our best to scare everyone away before we really begin bombarding the camp,” Starr replied. “But I won't lie, some people will probably get burned.” He narrowed his eyes at Nick, as if expecting him to protest, and continued firmly. “Those maniacs sent trucks full of explosives at a town full of innocent people. Several were hurt and one might die of his injuries. Then they murdered Darrel and nearly killed Mayor Darby. I never considered this
fun and games, like some did, but now people are being killed.”
He paused, looking between Denny and Nick with features set in iron resolve. “Like it or not, Jay's dragged us into a war. People have already been killed, and at this point we're not going to be able to fight back without more people getting hurt. We want to do whatever we can to prevent that, but as it stands if we don't take the fight to Jay he's going to keep hanging around, sniping us until he's racked up a pile of bodies and we're all huddled in foxholes waiting for our turn.”
Nick felt a heaviness settle in his gut. Gen's note had stressed that she was fine, but that didn't change the fact that she'd been close to where shots were being fired. And she'd been caught in the explosions, too.
She might be hurt in Jay's next attack. Or the madman might hit the camp and hurt Tallie or Ricky or Ellie. He'd gone beyond threats and water balloons to outright murder, and it had to stop.
Like Starr had said, enough was enough.
“Okay,” Nick said grimly. “Let's plan this attack.”
Chapter Nine
Eviction
Dawn was just a pale sliver of red on the horizon when Nick led Denny and the other slingshot team leaders up to the top of the hill overlooking Jay's camp.
Chet, Ben, Charlie's son Micah, and several other of their fighters with the best vision and ability to creep around at night had already scoured the area for any hidden sentries. In spite of a few last lingering traces of weakness from his bout with Zolos, Micah had impressed everyone by managing to sneak up on the single man patrolling the hill, and clubbing him in the back of the head with his rifle. It had brought the sentry down without a sound, after which Micah had made sure he was securely bound and gagged.
Denny crawled up beside Nick and spent a few long seconds squinting down at the camp below. Then he grunted. “Hard to be sure, but I think you've got the distances right . . . we should be able to hit everything in both camps and also their vehicles from here.”
Isolation | Book 4 | Holding On Page 13