Glimmer of Hope (Book 1 of the Land of Tomorrow Post-Apocalyptic Series)

by Ryan King

  *******

  Brazen quickly organized the regimental companies. He still couldn’t help but call them gangs in his own mind. They evacuated the people from the center of Paducah. Brazen figured that was where the WTR troops would land, so he sent the civilians to the outlying regions of Reidland, Heath, and Lone Oak. The gangs were brutally efficient as Brazen expected. He couldn’t be worrying about saving some individual while trying to fight an invader. Many went into the crowded stuffy buses against their wills.

  Defending the entire city was out of the question. If the old man’s story was to be believed, there must be close to three hundred or more soldiers on the way and they probably had heavy machine guns, grenades, and mortars. Brazen’s regiment was taking in new recruits, but they were mostly untrained, and his forces chiefly consisted of the gangs. They were fanatical in their own way, but would never be able to stand up to such troops in the open, at least not yet.

  His leaders argued for opposing the WTR landing at the river flood walls.

  Brazen disagreed, "If they get resistance before they have landed their troops, they might simply move on downriver, could attack where the civilians are. The battle has to be in the city."

  "Won't they just be able to do more damage there? Best to meet them straight on," said a state trooper, one of the few JP officials who had come to hear the plan and try to help instead of fleeing south and east.

  Brazen grimaced at the trooper, "We have to believe these are WTR soldiers. Our men won't be able to stand up against them in normal battle, plus we'll likely be outgunned."

  "What then? Just let them walk into the city?" asked Jinks, one of his leaders.

  Brazen nodded, "That's exactly what we do."

  They looked at him like he had lost his senses before protesting in louder and louder voices. He held up his hand to cut off their protests.

  "Anyone know about the Battle of Stalingrad?" there were some faces that showed semblances of recognition, but most were blank. "During World War Two the Germans tried to take the industrial city, but the Russians simply fought building to building, nullifying the German’s superior mobility and fire power. Maybe we can do something similar here in Paducah on a smaller scale. Unless of course, someone has any better ideas?"

  No one did.

  They established a hasty perimeter around the downtown area, mainly using additional men or teenage boys who volunteered to help instead of evacuate. Brazen divided the city up into sections and assigned each of the five gangs their area to defend. He told them it wasn’t about bravery, but about killing as many of the enemy as they could without being killed or getting captured. They understood.

  It was the next morning when they spotted the invasion force. They counted three small barges carrying men and equipment and a dozen smaller support craft. The barges lumbered close to the flood walls until their metal bottoms scraped with a shrill protest on the sloped concrete embankments. Ladders and ramps were lifted over the side and the men were able to come ashore with no more than their lower half wet.

  The WTR forces seemed surprised at the ease of the landing and the fact that the city appeared to be abandoned. The enemy squads worked their way slowly away from the river and into the center of the city.

  When they were spread apart, and too far from their boats to retreat easily, Brazen gave the signal.

  His men started taking pot shots from inside the tall buildings. The WTR troops responded with overwhelming firepower, putting machine gun rounds and grenades into any window or position that fired on them. Many of Brazen’s men died, but they harassed the invaders’ advance, and by sunset had slowed them to a crawl.

  Too far from the river to return in the dark, the invaders set up a defensive perimeter using several buildings to wait out the night. That was when the gangs went to work.

  In the pitch black confined streets, Brazen’s men were able to sneak up close to the perimeter guards and pick them off one by one. The enemy was forced to tighten its perimeter as they took casualties. Psychologically, the men became even more afraid of the night.

  Before sunrise they were forced to make a slow and painful withdrawal back to their boats, carrying their dead and wounded on makeshift litters. The WTR troops firebombed every building they passed on their way, but Brazen’s men kept up their harassment at a terrible cost to both sides. Soon WTR dead and wounded were being left behind, first as individuals, then in droves.

  Brazen even thought they might actually be able to trap and destroy the entire force. He led a flanking attack on the boats, but they were too heavily defended. The WTR army had left a strong guard force, definitely wanting to secure their way home. Brazen abandoned the plan after a brief probe and settled with just driving the invaders out of the city. They would have to be content with killing as many of the enemy as they could.

  The WTR force continued to make a hasty withdrawal, loading the barges while sustaining heavy casualties. By dawn's light Brazen's men saw the boats already in the middle of the Mississippi steaming back south. Many of Brazen’s men came down to the river to cheer and heckle the fleeing men, but machine gun fire from one of the boats scattered them and wounded one man. The enemy might be defeated, but they were definitely still dangerous.

  Brazen cut their cheering short with a piercing whistle. "Listen up! You men have done great things, but we still have work to do. We need to tend to the wounded, get those fires out and most importantly warn people down the river."

  "Won't they already know?" asked Jinks, a dirty bandage around his right forearm. "They saw them come up."

  "Yes," answered Brazen, "but the invading force only wanted to attack us. They'll go back dragging their tails and be more likely to take it out on some poor unsuspecting farmers and such.

  They dispatched warning riders south on bikes. He also sent riders with reports to President Philips in Murray and General Anderson at Fulton. Brazen finally sent a rider to locate the County Exec who he thought was on his way back from visiting the dam and seeing the destruction there.

  Brazen was now left to clean up the mess. Many of his men were dead; but it could have been much worse. Only a few of the civilians, who had refusing to evacuate, had been killed in the fighting. The buses were now bringing people back to downtown to help try to put out the fires as best they could. A number didn’t want to help and just wished to go home, but Brazen made it clear there was no choice. They were a community after all, and true communities helped their neighbors…whether they wanted to or not.

  Brazen and his men walked through the smoldering, charred remains of downtown. Much of the city was still burning; but they just didn’t have the firefighting equipment, especially without electricity to power the water pumps, so they had to watch as the old buildings burned and collapsed.

  When the electricity had gone off, no one thought to shut down the water feed from the city’s water towers and these drained almost dry within the first day as water consumption continued at a normal rate. All the water lines were now bone dry.

  Groups of civilians and carefully watched WTR prisoners had been organized into bucket lines from the river to help as many houses as possible, but most of downtown was too large to save. Brazen thought it was ironic that only a few weeks ago he had actually threatened to do this very deed. Good thing it smells of rain, he thought.

  Brazen noticed that Lancourt was nearby. The man was tireless in organizing the evacuation, taking care of setting up first-aid stations and shelter at numerous locations, and getting them back here efficiently. He also organized the fire parties, food and water distribution, and gathering clothing and found homes for those who were burned out. Even Brazen's gang members did what Pastor Lancourt asked of them. His greatest value though, was probably his ability to keep everyone calm.

  When word spread that a West Tennessee army was preparing to land in their city, far to the north where they had thought they were safe, waves of panic and impending doom spread. Lancourt was able to exud
e calm, peace, and hope wherever he went.

  Brazen was amazed when he visited one of the food centers to see that Lancourt had established a sort of day care center for the children so their parents could help put out the fires. He witnessed Lancourt telling the rapt children story after story and several who had dried tears on their faces, who were now totally absorbed in the yarns he was spinning.

  “Heck of a mess, isn’t it?” Brazen asked him during a slow moment.

  “Actually, no,” said Lancourt. “The city itself is in shambles, but the people are fine and better than fine. This has caused them to draw together and see themselves as one unified community. Where once there was suspicion and infighting, now they are together helping each other.”

  “Some against their will,” said Brazen.

  “Just as well,” said Lancourt with a wave of his hand. “Action and habit precede changes in attitude. This is good for their souls, even if done under duress. A year from now, they’ll be proudly telling of the eager work they did. They’ll convince themselves. Everyone wants to be better than they are; sometimes they just need a little encouragement. It's good for their souls.”

  “Their souls?” Brazen mused. “You think all this death and destruction is good for anyone.”

  “Yes.” Lancourt turned to face him. “It is. Death is a certainty to all, it is what we do until then that defines our character. Adversity brings out the best in us…or the worst. We also frequently only seek God’s will and support when we are without hope or are facing destruction. I’m not saying this is God’s will, but He does work in ways we cannot comprehend. Let’s take you for example,” Lancourt poked him with a finger. “Do you really think for a minute that you’re ready for the power that is coming your way?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Brazen.

  “I’ve told you before, God has a plan for you, and He’s calling you back to Him,” Lancourt put his hand on Brazen’s shoulder. “You are the lost sheep and God is fanatical and relentless in pursuing those who are His. You can run as hard and as long as you want, but in the end, you will just be caught tired and with regrets about what could have been.”

  Brazen was silent for a moment and then said, “No, I’m not ready. Heck I’m not ready for this,” indicating all the destruction around him.

  Lancourt smiled and turned back to him. “That is the beginning of wisdom and understanding. None of us is able alone to handle the magnificent plans God has for our lives. Without Him, we are lost, petty, selfish, and broken. With Him, we are royalty, capable of literally anything. You can accept that and move on with your life, or keep half-stepping like you have been. I suggest you quit playing around and fooling yourself before you get a bunch of people killed. This is no time for self-delusion.”

  Lancourt said the last with a stern stare and then walked back toward the food line leaving Brazen to his thoughts in the smoldering ruins of his city.

  I never liked this city anyway, he thought.