Youngblood

by H. Peter Alesso

  He sat at the AI console, its viewscreen blinking an eerily familiar glow.

  Having the computer spit out calculations and information to any problem he posed did not satisfy his hunger for greater assess. Taciturn, but determined, he persisted in undermining the well-established security protocols until the words on the screen changed, displaying an important difference in his security status.

  Youngblood remained impassive, but Kira’s shrill voice broke his calm: “You’ve done it!”

  He read the words, only half believing them.

  ACCESS GRANTED.

  SECURITY LEVEL 3.

  He smiled. “Let’s open the magazine of weapons.”

  The magazine revealed a vast array of weapons including drones, rifles, handguns, mines, and mortars. There were also tents, camouflage gear, night vision goggles, and communication devices.

  He asked, “Should we take some of everything or just the items we can learn to use properly?”

  Kira shrugged.

  They loaded their wagon until it was overflowing with weapons and equipment and took it to Jamestown.

  ◆◆◆

  When they got there, Youngblood was surprised when William and Mack came to him and said, “We want you to take Ben’s place as commander of the militia.”

  “Me?!”

  William said, “You’re the natural choice. It was you who started refurbishing the technology with Ben and Pyro. It was you who gave Murdock a knuckle sandwich. It was you who discovered the Yosemite mountain bunker and the enslavement of our people. And it was you who brought us these new weapons.”

  “But I have no experience commanding others.”

  “Neither does anyone else. You were a captain in the last battle and you’ll learn what else is needed. What’s important is that the people believe in you.”

  “Does anyone have any military knowledge?”

  William said, “My great-grandfather was in the Marines.”

  That was all there was. It would have to do.

  “I accept.”

  Youngblood created a makeshift command center near Jamestown. It was not much more than a large tent where he could recruit men into the militia and issue arms and equipment.

  “William, can I talk to you?” asked Youngblood.

  William stepped forward. As they walked outside the tent, Youngblood asked, “How bad were the Jamestown causalities?”

  William shook his head, “Scores killed, more wounded, along with some of our best leaders. Our medical equipment is inadequate for treating all of them.”

  “I don’t know if there’ll be more attacks, but I can’t rule it out. Today, we can start issuing the weapons and supplies I’ve brought.”

  William asked, “That’s a beginning. Do you know who is leading the attacks against us?”

  Youngblood said, “Jarod, Fox, and Blackheart are the leaders, though it’s anyone’s guess who is on top just now. I’ve imposing security monitoring and sent out spies, but whoever is leading Yosemite, he’s using advanced technology.”

  “Are they sending saboteurs?”

  “I’ve considered the possibility, but I don’t think so. We would’ve seen signs if they had infiltrated the area.”

  “Where did they get their weapons and technology?”

  Youngblood said, “Fox might have the leadership skill, but Columbia doesn’t have the technology. In any case, he would have a tough time concealing his involvement. I think we’re left with the primary and only real suspect—Blackheart. He’s the leader who is directing Jarod and Fox,” said Youngblood.

  “I don’t understand how or why an underground survivalist group, supposedly destroyed a century ago, would be attacking us today,” said William.

  “They want what we have, but I have a way to undermine him, only it’s going to take some guile and lucky timing,” said Youngblood.

  Chapter 26

  Command

  Just after dawn, Youngblood walked out in front of the militia gathered in the field outside of Jamestown to formally take command.

  “I accept command of the Valley Militia and I am prepared to carry out the responsibilities and challenges to safeguard the families and homes of the people of Yosemite Valley against all enemies.”

  The militia was an untrained and undisciplined lot, consisting of farmers, ranchers, and townsfolk. They knew little about military discipline and their expectations were based on rumor as much as fact. The soldiers lived in tents and other makeshift shelters. Supplies came in sporadically, but there never had enough guns, ammunition, clothes, or food.

  By introducing various punishments to establish discipline, Youngblood put a halt to the random comings and goings of officers and men to tend their own property. He demonstrated both the strategic instincts and leadership skills that would sustain him and keep him from going astray. The first problem he encountered was the logistical challenges of the war. They collected food and supplies throughout the month and fortified their position while he formed a plan for training.

  He contemplated the strengths and weakness of individuals he would have to work under his command. They were all starting from scratch, but some had more ability than others, and it was up to him to identify who would best serve.

  He wondered if he had taken on too much. He was uncomfortably aware that every eye was focused on him as he walked around. It was a pleasant surprise when their sober faces met his, as if they agreed that he should be in command, instead of broad grins of tolerant amusement that one as young as he could have stepped into such a weighty position, let alone replacing Ben, who’d been a highly regarded member of the community.

  While he lacked the requisite experience and knowledge for handling large groups of men, he did have the character and natural abilities of a leader. Conscious of his own defects, he was always willing to profit by experience. He had the qualities of determination and steadfastness rooted in an unshakable conviction of the righteousness of their cause, a scrupulous sense of honor and duty, and a dignity that inspired respect and confidence in those around him.

  Youngblood was excited and passionate even while his calculating mind told him he had to assert his authority and show his abilities, or the others would lose faith in him. He found himself in many novel and unexpected circumstance.

  During the morning hours, he rarely spoke as felt the cool morning breeze on his face. He liked to keep his mind focused on the plan for the day. He took inventory of his resources in men and equipment and began his inspection tour of the training ground for the militia newly upgraded with its weapons and supplies.

  He watched as the recruits stirred from their tents, dressed, and prepared their breakfast. He congratulated himself on seeing the nearly full compliance. Discipline had not yet been fully asserted, but the men and women were eager to serve. His mind ran through the day’s schedule of training drills with weapons and deployment.

  His mathematical mind had plenty of experience with computers and machines, but he had few people skills. He relied on Kira and Pyro to add that dimension to his command. He decided they would be his staff officers.

  Yet there were some minutes of grace left to him as he directed the distribution of the weapons and organized the men into companies. He assigned captains who were as ignorant in military affairs as he was, but they were just as eager to learn. Together, they set about developing a training regimen to turn farmers and ranchers into an organized military force.

  Who would make a reliable leader capable of being entrusted with the lives of others and clearheaded enough to make rational decisions during a crisis? William and Mack had already shown themselves to be levelheaded in battle. They would be his senior captains. Who else could lead farmers and ranchers? He would have to trust the suggestions of others in this matter. He read the military field manual on his table and set his analytical mind to assessing how best to put those ideas into practice under these conditions.

  Professionally, he would have to leave much
to the judgment of the older more experienced men and women, but he knew the responsibility was on his shoulders. He could not let the magnitude of the undertaking dwarf the chances of success because of his ignorance.

  Youngblood set the men to work building an army. The days passed in a whirlwind. He divided his time between the army and hacking the computer system to gain intelligence on the enemy. He wanted to acquire access to the security codes for Yosemite.

  Several weeks passed as a standoff developed between the valley people and Jarod’s forces. Youngblood needed the time to get organized while Jarod was concerned about gathering the newly collected surtax and delivering it to Yosemite.

  Despite his inexperience and his poorly trained army of civilian soldiers, Youngblood intended to fight the enemy and was eager to adopt a bold course of action.

  It’s time.

  Chapter 27

  Father and Son

  Yosemite was an elaborate complex that supported a luxurious lifestyle for the mountain dwellers. The interior architectural design was more of a boutique hotel with thousands of rooms than a bunker designed for military deterrence. It had the intimate ambiance of a private home despite numerous communal living spaces strategically positioned for easy access. All the amenities were upscale, offering a choice of chic and elegant, sleek and contemporary, or quaint and homey, not to mention an artistic amalgamation with fastidious décor. Some of the apartments were completely enclosed within the superstructure, while others had ventilation windows and private verandas.

  Traditionally, the restaurants organized meal services designed to maximize comfort and choice for the thousands of inhabitants. Many entertainment options were available, including shows and movies. There was always something to keep everyone amused. As an extension of the unique personality of each property, people’s heritages were reflected through color and art. Many inhabitants preferred to live entirely underground rather than face any of the outdoor hazards that the post-apocalyptic world presented.

  As might be expected, Blackheart lived in the most prestigious luxury suite in the deepest depths of the complex under constant guard by his strong security service.

  He was beyond startled when his son waltzed into his living room unannounced.

  He said, “Hello, son.”

  Jarod replied with an exaggerated calm, “Hello, Father, how are you?”

  “I’m surprised to see you.”

  “I have no doubt that you are. You probably thought I was confined by the security forces that you dispatched to arrest me.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “You think that because you want to think it, not because it makes the most sense.”

  “I don’t know, but I find your concerns troubling.” Blackheart frowned. “Where did you get such wild notion as that?”

  Jarod smiled mischievously. “I’ve got a recording.”

  “What recording?”

  Jarod threw a flash drive on the table before them.

  “It’s a discussion between you and Fox planning to arrest me. Shall I play it?”

  The flash drive loomed between the two men, an indictment of their failed union.

  Blackheart stared at Jarod with an unusual mix of emotions. The young man stood there, tall and gangly with hollow cheeks and melancholy eyes. His clothes looked as if they had been put on in the dark and not rearranged since. His piercing brown eyes and curled lips formed a distorted smile, as if to say, ‘Who’s powerful now?’ While this attitude might have been unconscious to Jarod, he nonetheless presented his usual exterior as the disgruntled son—fear struggling with pride, ambition, and a hopeless desire for approval, all mixing and boiling over into a cocktail ready to explode. The odd result was that Blackheart was now afraid: afraid of his own son.

  “Where . . . ?” asked Blackheart, leaning over the table and picking up the drive as if it were a box of poisoned pills.

  “I don’t know, exactly, but I suspect some mutual enemy has taken an opportunity to sow dissent.”

  An ominous current surged through Blackheart’s spine. The duplicity and playacting of his past statements were now evident. He shrugged. “It’s hard to keep up the pretense.”

  Jarod nodded.

  “I did send men to arrest you,” confessed Blackheart, straightening up and gathering his strength. “It was a mistake.”

  In a cold harsh tone, Jarod said, “The trouble with such a mistake is that it’s indelible.”

  Blackheart thought, this preposterous upstart—this incorrigible little bully—thinks he can replace me.

  He asked, “Who will be coming through that door next?”

  Jarod leaned forward, his jaw jutting out and his hands folded behind him. He whispered, “Let’s wait and see.”

  Blackheart took a deep breath and asked, “Did you ever know a famous man before he became famous?”

  Jarod shook his head.

  “The most irritating thing about them is that they seemed quite ordinary before the event that skyrockets them to prominence. Afterward, you’re shocked that you didn’t recognize their significance all along.”

  He savored the puzzled look that spread over Jarod’s face.

  Time passed on a glacial scale, but soon men in flak jackets carrying rifles burst through the apartment door.

  Blackheart straightened his sleeves, nonplussed. He was calm as he spoke, “It was not too long ago that I thought I was the master of my fate. I see now that I was mistaken.”

  “The world has moved past you,” said Jarod, raising his hand to halt his men.

  “Like most of your generation, you ignore unpalatable facts that don’t conform to your wishes. My actions were dictated by the needs of the space colony and their orders. You don’t appreciate the constraints they had on me and this complex. You have always been too focused on the valley and you haven’t understood the power and might of the space colony. They have been a boon to our standard of living, but they could also wipe us out, like snuffing out a bug, anytime they choose.”

  “A choice they can’t afford to make without losing their source of food and raw materials.”

  “They have others who also provide them with essentials.”

  “I didn’t know that. Still, I imagine they would have difficulty replacing the amount of supplies we provide.”

  “Yes. They would have problems, but I wouldn’t like to test that.”

  Blackheart stood up and walked casually to the bookcase in the back of the room. He pressed an ornamented figure, and the bookcase and the immediate floor around it spun around. Before anyone had time to react, Blackheart disappeared into the secret panel and his captors stood facing a blank wall.

  ◆◆◆

  Jarod was disappointed, frustrated, and worried about Blackheart’s escape.

  Men scrabbled about the wall trying to open the secret passage.

  “I need to know where he’s going, not where he’s been. There’s too much space with too few men to cover it,” Jarod ranted.

  But over the next few hours, they found no trace of Blackheart. For that matter, there was no one willing to talk about him. That did not mean Jarod would stop pursuing every lead.

  “He’ll make a mistake,” he said to himself, trying to muster his patience, “and I’ll be ready.”

  Jarod concentrated on what he knew—the towns were of questionable loyalty. Even the mountain people were uncertain. They waited to see if Blackheart would return.

  Jarod raged. “Blackheart thinks he’s untouchable.”

  Some wrathful statement was justified, but he was already thinking past that, to what his next step must be. All things considered, Jarod thought he could anticipate Blackheart next move. He made a list of possibilities and crossed them off as he received information. After a few hours, he had eliminated quite a few locations and realized there was only one place Blackheart would go.

  “He’s fled into the tunnels to make his way to the SP bunker.”

  Jarod
needed time to reorganize his hold on the bunker population and was slow to send men to chase Blackheart.

  Jarod went topside and stood on the mountain ridge when he saw a flash of an explosion a few miles away. There was a streak of flame and smoke rising into the sky.

  Is that a spaceship taking off?

  Jarod cursed.

  So close!

  Chapter 28

  Charge

  The Morgan ranch sprawled over several hundred acres of Cutler’s Creek, a hillside twenty miles northeast of Jamestown and several miles west of the Yosemite bunker. The ranch house, bunk house, barn, and numerous tents served as shelters for the militia while their horses were kept in an expanded corral. Youngblood chose this site for the militia’s encampment in preparation for the coming battle with Jarod’s gang.

  The new militia company captains, William, Mack, Lew, Henry, and Morgan, each led about 100 men. The companies were positioned around the encampment in a defensive posture while Pyro and Kira served as staff officers.

  Over the recent weeks, Youngblood had implemented all that he had learned about military tactics from his computer library. The men drilled with small arms and practiced coordinating cover fire. They set up crossfires, coordinated attacks, and other tactics. How much farmers and ranchers could absorb of military training in so short a time, he could only imagine, but they were eager and willing to learn. They wanted their chance at freedom. And after the devastation of Jamestown, they wanted to fight.

  Late one night, as the darkness closed around him, Youngblood walked with Kira along the perimeter of the encampment.

  He wanted time to weigh his options and decide on a strategic battle plan. It was reckless to hope that luck would save the people without a major engagement. But if he led them into combat, would he be the people’s savior, or would they come to curse his name? Would he lead them into what might be a massacre? Could he afford to take such a jeopardy? Should he avoid battle and negotiate a peace treaty? Would Jarod honor a treaty he signed? Were his personal concerns clouding his judgment? Could he even make a difference?