Outlaws of the Midwest | Book 3 | Havoc Endures

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Outlaws of the Midwest | Book 3 | Havoc Endures Page 12

by Hunt, Jack


  “Yeah, maybe you should leave out the bullet part and the AR-15 but the rest sounds grand.” Miles stifled a laugh as he brought the binos back up. “Time?”

  “Should have been here five minutes ago.”

  There was no new activity on the bridge. All was quiet. PLA soldiers held their position, a few walked back and forth. If it all went to plan and both the bridge and the train collapsed into the river, they would return to Camdenton.

  He lowered the binos and sighed, running a wet hand over his face.

  “Do you have family, Jensen?”

  “I do. A wife, three kids. Girls.”

  “They’re all alive?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s a novelty. What do they make of your big plans?”

  “Ah my wife would have me go back to my old job but after this, I don’t see it happening.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Military. A pilot. Nine years working for Uncle Sam.”

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “Wouldn’t have stayed in nine years if I didn’t.” He chuckled as he kept a firm grip on the remote detonator. His thumb rubbed it.

  “And siblings?”

  “Two brothers. You?”

  “Well if you had asked me a few days ago I would have told you none but it appears I have gained a half-brother.”

  “That’s gotta be exciting.”

  “Yeah, even more so when you find out he works for the PLA.”

  Jensen seemed to grasp the gravity of it as he set the detonator down and gave him his full attention. “Does he know?”

  Miles shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

  “You met him?”

  He took a deep breath and let it out. “He was my closest friend growing up.”

  “That’s got to hurt. So you’re not on speaking terms.”

  “Not exactly.”

  He laughed. “Let me take a wild stab, a woman was involved.”

  “Bingo.”

  “Always is. Those damn ladies. Why do we let it happen?”

  “Beats me. Though I’m sure it has something to do with long legs and curves.”

  “I know, right.” He put out a fist and Miles tapped it with his own.

  There was a long moment when he didn’t say anything and they just stared out at the fast-flowing river. A crescent moon reflected off the choppy surface. He hadn’t given much thought to what he would do if he saw August again. Even if they had a chance to talk, he wasn’t sure he could convince him of what his father had told him. He was having a hard time believing it himself.

  Then, of course, there was a false accusation. August believed he’d killed Demar. That part he could handle. Before killing Morgan, he’d recorded into a handheld recorder his final words, his confession, the confession that he thought would save his life. Whether August would believe it was another thing entirely.

  “You on good terms with your brothers?” Miles asked.

  “Is anyone? I mean, we bumped heads growing up and things have improved but put us in a room for long enough and I’m sure a fight would break out. But that’s brothers for you.”

  “So you care about them.”

  He snorted and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t exactly use those words but, yeah, I guess so. I would go to bat for them if push came to shove.” He paused. “I know what you’re asking, Miles, but there is a difference. My brothers are against the PLA.”

  “And if they weren’t?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  As he scanned the bridge again looking for potential threats, anyone who might have seen them, Miles noticed new activity. A slew of armored vehicles made their way onto the bridge and stopped halfway. He adjusted the focus and squinted at the faces masked by a green hue. Was this the next crew taking over from those on the bridge? Reinforcements just in case of an attack? As he watched soldiers stream out, he caught sight of a familiar face. His eyes widened.

  It was Zhang Li

  “No, no, no.”

  “What is it?” Jensen asked.

  “Give me the radio.”

  “What?”

  “The radio!” Miles barked. Jensen handed it over and he got in contact with Snow. “Zhang Li is on the bridge. Repeat. Gunnar’s daughter is on the bridge.”

  Static followed.

  In an instant, Gunnar got on the radio.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “And the train?”

  “No sign of it yet. But she doesn’t look as if she’s in a hurry.”

  “Shit!”

  There was a beat. He knew Gunnar’s mind must have been going twenty to the dozen. A moment passed and then Miles got back on. “Gunnar?”

  When he replied, Miles heard the rumble of an engine. “I’m heading onto the bridge.”

  “What? No.”

  “Look, if the train comes, blow the bridge.”

  “With you on it? Not happening.”

  “Listen to me, kid. That train cannot make it to Chicago. If you see it. Blow it. That’s an order. Everything we have worked towards has led up to this moment. If you don’t do it, America will suffer. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I think we are past that point, Gunnar.”

  “Do it! You hear me.”

  He didn’t answer Miles’ repeated attempts to discuss it. Miles lowered the radio and stood to his feet, raising the binoculars to get a better look at the bridge. He scanned the tree line, waiting for the train to show.

  “What’s happening?” Alexander, one of those on the other side of the river, asked. Miles brought them up to speed and told them to wait. Even if the train was coming they were to hold.

  Gunnar had unloaded everyone from the back of the truck and left them with Snow. Clinging to the wheel, he barreled his way onto Great River Road which would take him onto the bridge, his thoughts on his daughter. Arianna had shared with him the discussion she’d had and the sense that Zhang Li was unsure about her allegiance to the PLA. Working off this faint strand of hope, he took a risk that he knew could mean being arrested or worse — getting shot — but after all that had happened, he couldn’t risk having her go down with the bridge.

  A cloud of diesel fumes enveloped the truck as it went over a bumpy area where the road connected to the bridge. Huge girders of steel spanned over the truck like a spider’s web, the dark winding river far below as he made his way out to the center. He hadn’t made it even a quarter of the way when his vehicle was stopped at a checkpoint. Flagged down by soldiers, he considered just blasting through the flimsy barriers that stopped his way but that wouldn’t have given him a chance to speak to her. They would have peppered that truck and brought it to a standstill before he could even blink.

  The suspension hissed as he eased off the gas and brought it to a rolling stop. As soon as he brought the window down, they were requesting ID but he had no time for rules and procedure. “I must speak with Zhang Li,” he said pointing ahead. “It is of the utmost importance.”

  “What is the issue?”

  “I can only speak with her.”

  The soldier climbed up, his face appearing in the driver’s side window as he clung to a handle on the outside of the truck. “Where is your load?”

  “That’s what this is about. Please. I need to speak with her.”

  “Get out.”

  The soldier hopped off the truck and muttered something in Chinese to the others and as Gunnar climbed down, he was quickly thrown on his face. Soldiers aimed their weapons at him, sensing trouble, while four went along the vehicle with mirrors to check the underside, and another two climbed into the driver’s and passenger side to search the truck. On the ground, and with soldiers yelling, he’d finally caught the attention of Zhang. She looked over and he called out to her only to have his voice cut short by a boot to the top of his head, forcing his face down. Whether he was a legitimate collaborator or not, the PLA had zero patience for anyone they perceived as a
threat.

  Fortunately, Zhang caught sight of him and made her way over.

  She bellowed in Chinese for them to back off. To which they did, reluctantly.

  Gunnar climbed to his feet. Not wasting a second to brush off grime and dirt. He asked to speak with her in private. It had been years since they’d looked at each other in the eye. She narrowed her eyes. “A collaborator? Last I heard you were in the hands of the Death Dealers.”

  “Yeah, well that was a small disagreement.”

  Her lip turned up.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Anything you need to say has already been said.”

  “Zhang. Please.”

  “What you need to say can be said here,” she replied.

  “Not this.” His gaze bounced between her and the soldiers. He wanted to blurt it out but he couldn’t. His heart was drumming in his chest. The longer they remained locked in a disagreement of words, the higher the chance they would still be on the bridge when that train came rumbling along.

  Zhang narrowed her eyes and for a second he thought she would walk away. Instead, she instructed the soldiers to give them privacy. They stared back in disbelief and she bellowed it in Chinese. Hesitant but not wishing to butt heads with Yong’s right-hand woman, they strolled off, out of earshot.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s it?”

  “No. No, you need to get off this bridge right now.” He looked past her, his eyes darting back and forth between the bridge and the railway line that snaked away into the distance. He could have sworn he saw lights.

  Zhang studied him. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

  “Miles?”

  She nodded.

  “Listen, Zhang. I know we have had our problems. I have said the wrong things, I’ve done the wrong things but at no point did I blame you for your brother’s death. If you want to blame me. Fine. I will shoulder the blame. But I’m not losing you both.”

  “Lose me? You lost me a long time ago.”

  “And Arianna?”

  She snorted and gazed back at the soldiers. “Where are the resistance?” she asked, shifting her focus back to him. “I mean, that’s why you are here, isn’t it? That’s why you want me off this bridge.”

  Light cut through the darkness and filtered through tree branches. The train was coming. Gunnar took a hold of Zhang by the arm. “We need to go now.”

  “Get your hand off me!” she said in an authoritative voice.

  He let her go and shook his head. “You want me to admit guilt. I admit it. I made the wrong call that day. It’s my fault he’s dead. You want to die here then so be it. I’m staying with you.”

  “What?” His reply caught her off guard.

  “Minutes from now this bridge will be no more, neither will that train, and neither will you or I. So if you want to die. Then fine. I’ll stay here with you.”

  She stared back at him as he peered out into the night.

  Miles could see everything playing out but couldn’t hear a damn word. What the hell is he waiting for? “Get off the bridge,” he muttered under his breath. Over the radio, Alexander told them the train was coming.

  “Don’t detonate,” Miles said.

  “What?”

  “Wait. Gunnar is on the bridge.”

  “What the hell is he doing up there? He has less than three minutes to get off there or I’m bringing it down.”

  Miles brought the radio up close to his mouth. “Stand down!”

  “You’re not in charge.”

  He brought the binoculars up to his eyes. Through a hue of green, he could see what looked like a heated conversation between Zhang Li and Gunnar. Miles’ pulse sped up, sweat beading on his forehead.

  Jensen grasped his arm. “Miles. Alexander is right. We have to blow that bridge.”

  They were right.

  He nodded slowly, hoping for a different outcome.

  “Miles!”

  “I know,” he replied, cutting him a stern glance. Come on, Gunnar. Come on.

  Standing on the bridge Gunnar could see the train in full view. Minutes from now it would barrel its way beneath them on the lower level and as soon as it was fully over the river the whole bridge was coming down.

  He glanced at Zhang Li.

  “Listen to me, Zhang. We need to get off this bridge.”

  “I don’t know if you’re telling the truth. You have a habit of lying.”

  “Do you want to die? Huh? Is that it? Do you want both of us to go down? Because I’m ready. I’ve been ready for a long time.”

  She pursed her lips and sneered. “You act as if you care.”

  “I do. You weren’t the only one that lost someone back then. We all did, Zhang. But you want to know the worst of it…?”

  She glanced at him with curious eyes.

  “It was losing you.” He breathed in deeply, dipped his chin, and placed his hands against the girders, looking at the huge banner of the Chinese flag draped over the bridge. He could feel the vibrations of the train as it got closer, its lights now spreading wide, flooding the track ahead with its bright white glow. “Ah fuck it. This war has eaten us up. I don’t want it anymore. None of it,” he said. “You want to go. Then we are going together.”

  She turned toward the soldiers and bellowed in Chinese for them to escort him off the tracks. Gunnar looked at her. “Zhang.”

  She looked back at him, her eyes welled with tears. “You act as if you know pain but you don’t know the first thing about it.” She nodded. “But you will.” He knew she was planning on remaining on that bridge and that if it went down, she was going down with it. But she wanted him off so that he would live with the memory of having been a part of something that destroyed her.

  His fate was sealed. Far below the bridge, Miles watched, every nerve in his body screaming. He wanted to shout, alert him but they couldn’t. This was what they’d come for. Every single American was relying on this working. Miles was almost in a trancelike state as he observed Gunnar talking to Zhang and gripping the steel girders.

  “Ready to go!” Alexander said over the radio.

  “Miles!” Jensen called out.

  His eyes darted to the train as it filled the lower half.

  “Miles!” Jensen said again, his thumb on the detonator.

  Miles closed his eyes and dipped his chin. “Do it.”

  18

  The mission was a success but Miles felt nothing but crushing pain. Making their way back to the grain plant, the others were jovial, in high spirits, patting each other on the back while he dragged his feet behind them. “Miles, it was out of your control. He made the choice. He knew the risk,” Jensen said.

  “Doesn’t make it any easier.”

  Miles had turned the NV goggles away moments before it happened, unable to watch his demise. Now as they made their way through the dense woodland, Arianna could be heard on the radio.

  “Miles. Did he make it?”

  The others looked at him, none willing to answer.

  He took the radio and paused for a second, preparing to deliver the devastating news.

  “He’s gone,” he replied.

  All that came back was static.

  He handed back the radio to Jensen and walked ahead of the group as he knew Arianna wouldn’t respond any further. His mind was in turmoil as they made it out of the woodland and looked up the road. In the distance he could just make out a few PLA trucks in town near the bridge, soldiers looking on, helpless to do anything. He wondered what they were thinking. Was the invasion worth it? How many friends had they lost in the pursuit of control? He shook his head and trudged with the others toward the waiting group. Several around him jogged ahead, eager to share the news, eager to celebrate a massive victory. For that’s what it was. A huge turning point in the war, an attack that surpassed anything they had achieved before. As others came out to meet them, hugs were exchanged, and a few fists pumped the air. Arianna wasn’
t among them. She was still holding the handheld radio but was slumped down, back against the grain plant, nearby Snow looked to be consoling her.

  They glanced over and Miles stopped walking.

  Snow patted Arianna on the shoulder and then jogged toward him.

  “I’m sorry, man.”

  Miles nodded. “We need to get out of here and fast. This place will be swarming with soldiers soon.”

  “And how do we do that without a truck?” Snow asked.

  “We find another. What do you think?” He let his frustration spillover. He wanted to go to Arianna and do what most might and offer his condolences but his words would have only been wasted. Nothing took the sting out of loss and all of them had experienced it in varying degrees. Some more than others.

  “Where now?” Snow asked.

  Miles turned. “Figure it out.”

  “But you were placed in charge.”

  “Now you are. I’m done.” He strolled off into the bushes to peel out of his wet suit and get his clothes on, his mind turning to the only remaining family he had left, his father and August.

  19

  Gunnar

  A series of crippling explosions blurred together, ballooning outward and sending a wave of air full of debris and steel crashing down into the river. Smoke rose high above, a swirling inferno of searing heat and destruction as the bridge was jackknifed, then obliterated.

  The noise was deafening.

  Seconds before it all happened — before death rained down on the PLA and every soldier onboard that train — Gunnar’s mind was going through his options, the risk factor, and the odds of survival.

  As the vibrations of the train grew louder and harder, and the diesel beast reached the bridge and clattered onto it causing it to shudder, he made the decision. Seconds. He didn’t know how many were left but it wasn’t many. There was no time to get in the truck and reverse, hell, they wouldn’t have even been able to sprint to the far end. Without hesitation, as the noise of the train drowned out Zhang’s commands, and with her back turned, Gunnar grabbed her by the back of her collar and shoved her and himself over the waist-high metal barrier.

 

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