Lee Harden Series | Book 5 | Unbowed

by Molles, D. J.

As Griffin piled into the front passenger seat and Mr. Smith went around to sit behind the driver, he could hear Paige disseminating the orders.

  All down the line, the idling vehicles shifted into drive and started rolling north.

  It was time to see where Vici’s loyalties lay.

  ***

  It was just after nine o’clock when Lee and the massive convoy behind him rolled into La Junta.

  Lee stared out the open back doors of the MATV, his jaw slack with shock.

  The road into La Junta was unguarded and open, but all along the streets, people had gathered to see the newcomers. As they caught sight of the giant snake of vehicles that stretched into the dusty horizon, Lee watched the faces of the people on the street come alive.

  A handful of them started to clap. To holler. They caught sight of Lee looking at them and raised fists into the air, shouting things at him that he couldn’t hear, but could only interpret by the fierce joy on their faces.

  “These people think we’re fucking liberators,” Lee griped, only able to frown back at the crowds. His expression didn’t seem to deter them. They simply turned their attention to the next vehicle in line—a Humvee that was following just behind the MATV—and started to wave to the bewildered Marines inside.

  The one in the turret raised a hand to them and gave a demur little wave, like he wasn’t quite sure whether to be friendly or hardassed.

  “Aren’t we?” Brinly asked, sitting beside Lee at the last set of jump seats next to the open doors.

  Lee shot the old Marine a look. “We’re not anything until we take Greeley.”

  Brinly smiled at him, despite Lee’s sour disposition. “Just enjoy it, Lee. Might be the last time you get a pleasant reception from anyone.”

  Lee grunted irritably. “They can clap and cheer all they want. We’ll see how many of them actually follow through on their promise to fight.”

  The MATV and the convoy behind it threaded their way through the city streets, towards where Abe had instructed them to set up camp. Unbridled by the constraints of a perimeter of high-voltage wires, La Junta seemed a massive sprawl for a settlement. They had numbers on their side, and used that as their defense against the small packs of primals that roamed the countryside.

  All through the city—yes, this was still a city, shocking enough—pockets of civilians stood on street corners to watch them and to yell encouragement that Lee ignored. It was a symptom of excitement, nothing more. Excitement did not equate to readiness for battle.

  But he supposed Brinly had a point—it was better than a cold, cautious reception.

  There was a pattern to the locations where large amounts of people could be held. Back east, where fences were needed to protect against larger hordes of primals, airfields were an obvious choice. Inside the boundaries of a city, schools were the best option. Not too different from Butler, La Junta had chosen to host the influx of newcomers at the local high school.

  Abe, along with a tall, bald-headed black man, stood waiting for them at the side of the sports fields, like a pair of coaches surveying new arrivals for tryouts. All around the high school, a massive open expanse of pale dirt and scrub brush occupied an area that must have been several city blocks.

  While Lee’s MATV and a handful of military vehicles parked themselves at the sports field, the rest of the cars, vans, SUVs, and pickup trucks packed full of armed people, weaved their way into the dusty acreage beside the school.

  Lee climbed carefully out of the back of the MATV, eyes going over to the impressive dust cloud created by hundreds of vehicles winding their way through the open landscape, white headlights and red taillights flashing in the sandstorm they’d created.

  “Looks like you brought the party with you,” a voice sounded behind him.

  He turned and looked at the man with Abe, as they stopped by Lee. The man extended one large hand, smiling.

  Lee took it. “You must be Jonathan Reeves.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. I keep this little burg running.” Jonathan’s dark eyes hit Lee’s ruined one—he’d forgotten to put his eyepatch on. “And, judging by the fact that you look like an old, battered tomcat, I’m guessing you’re Lee Harden.”

  Lee smiled. “I guess my legendary good looks precede me.”

  Abe stepped in. “Yeah, I told him you were a one-eyed gimp.” Abe grabbed Lee and threw him into a brief embrace. When they separated he looked behind Lee and nodded respectfully. “Madame President. Major Brinly.”

  Angela and Brinly exited the MATV, Angela with Abby orbiting her and watching Jonathan Reeves with interest.

  Lee stepped back and let Abe do the introductions. His own attention was caught by Abby again. She didn’t stand in one spot, he noted. She kind of circled around the edge of the gathering, as though trying to take it in from as many angles as possible.

  Finally, she came and stood next to Lee, as he was the farthest from the center where Jonathan and Abe were speaking intensely with Angela and Brinly. For a moment, the focus of those four people was so intense, it was like Lee and Abby had been forgotten.

  “You trust him?” Abby asked, looking at Jonathan.

  Lee watched her until she finally turned her gaze on him. Then he shrugged. “Trust doesn’t have anything to do with it. In a way, Abby, at the same time that I don’t trust anyone, I trust everyone.”

  She frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  Lee shook his head. “I trust everyone to act like people. Which means they’re largely self-centered and opportunistic. This gentlemen?” He bobbed his head discreetly towards Jonathan, keeping his voice down. “I don’t need to trust him as an individual. I trust that he’s going to act in his own best interests. And right now, that means we’re allies.”

  Abby nodded, as though in the midst of some burgeoning realization.

  Lee sighed. Squared himself to the young girl. “Abby, you’d do better not to take life advice from someone like me.”

  He was surprised when she looked up at him as though she’d expected this. She even had a small smile on her lips. “If I want to live to be an adult, I’d do better to take advice from someone who’s kept everyone alive.”

  Lee grimaced. Felt a strange sensation that he wasn’t talking to a kid anymore. “You’re forgetting all the people I’ve lost.”

  “You’re still here,” Abby noted, then looked back at her mother. “She’s still here. I’m still here.”

  Angela looked over and seemed momentarily surprised to see Abby and Lee huddled together. Her brow creased for just a flash, but then she put on a smile and motioned him back into the circle.

  Lee stepped forward again, and the circle parted to make room.

  Jonathan, now acquainted with everyone, turned back to Lee. “Should I get some food prepared for your people? Water?”

  Lee shook his head. “No, we’ve got our own supplies. You should use yours for your own people. Particularly in getting them mobilized. Which leads me to the next item of business: Time is short. We need to be on the move towards Greeley tomorrow. And there’s a lot to plan between now and then.”

  Jonathan cast a doleful glance at Abe. “Well, it’s a good thing your boy woke me up and made me pull an all-nighter.” He rubbed his eyes. “What’s another all-nighter? I can sleep on the road.”

  Lee allowed it with a smile. “We’re going to need a place to meet. Just the command elements. You and two or three people who are going to be your second and third in command.”

  Jonathan gestured in the direction of the high school building. “The faculty’s office, then. I’ll gather my folks and meet you in there in, say one hour?”

  Lee nodded. “That works. We’ll be there.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  ─▬▬▬─

  RISK AND REWARD

  Sam stood in the darkness of the burned-out building, waiting. He had to resist the urge to pace. To fidget. To get some of this manic energy out of his system. But he needed to remain still and quiet. Th
e building was abandoned, and the area was not frequented by the populace or the patrols, but even so, Sam feared being spotted.

  It was almost full dark now. It had to be past nine. And still, not a single squad leader had shown up. Every single minute that ticked by sent Sam’s mind into the same loop of anxiety, followed by rationalization and mentally talking himself down.

  He heard Marie take a long breath in the darkness. He could just make out the form of her, standing near a support pillar, watching the entrance to the building.

  “Should we head back?” Sam whispered.

  Marie turned towards him. The ambient light from the outside barely cresting the side of her face. “Let’s give them a few more minutes.”

  “What if something happened? What if one of them outed us?”

  A long pause.

  “Just give them a few more minutes,” Marie repeated. “If no one shows in another fifteen, we’ll call it.”

  “Why wouldn’t they be here when we said to be here?” Sam hissed.

  “Could be a good sign,” Marie offered. “Maybe they’re being cautious with their approach. Making sure no one is following them.”

  Sam hadn’t considered that. His mind had naturally gone to the worst case scenario.

  He was about to continue his worrying when a shadow flitted across the front entrance.

  Sam and Marie both whipped around, staring at the silhouette of someone, edging their way into the darkness.

  “Hello?” a man whispered.

  “Yes,” Sam said, stepping forward.

  The silhouette jerked as it caught sight of him. “Shit. You scared me. Is that you? Sam Balawi?”

  Sam peered at the figure, trying to catch sight of the features. “Who’s asking?”

  “Christ! You told me to fucking come here!”

  Sam approached with caution, stopped a few paces from the man. He could just barely make out the face, but it was one of the squad leaders. “Yeah, it’s me—Sam. There’s a back room we can move to where we’ll use some light, but we need to wait for the others.”

  “They’re here,” the man said. “Hang on.”

  He turned and stepped just outside of the entrance, then waved a hand over his head in two, big, obvious sweeps. Then lowered it. Stood there, looking out at the dark streets.

  More figures emerged from the abandoned block of buildings, converging on the entrance. Sam counted them as he spotted them hustling across the street. Three. Four. Six.

  The first man drew back into the building and the others followed him in, clustered worriedly around each other.

  “Is this it?” Sam said, somehow both disappointed that not all of them had shown up, and thrilled that these seven had.

  “Yeah,” the first man said. “I didn’t hear from the others. We’re the only ones that are coming. That I know of.”

  “Do you trust the other ones not to say shit?” Sam asked, a bit sharply.

  “Hell, I barely even know them, man. I barely even know you.”

  Sam nodded. “Fair enough. Follow me.”

  “What about your friend Nolan?”

  Sam glanced at the man. “I wouldn’t call us friends.”

  “Oh.” It was difficult to tell in the darkness, but Sam thought he saw an odd expression pass over the man’s face.

  Sam frowned. “What?”

  “Nothing. I thought you guys were friends. You seemed to know each other.”

  Sam kept watching, sensing that the man had more to say.

  The man shuffled a bit. “Well, I saw him.”

  “Did you say anything?” Sam demanded.

  “Well…I…uh…”

  “Dammit,” Sam spat. “You said something to him, didn’t you?”

  “I thought he was your friend!”

  “Well, he’s not! What did you say?”

  “I didn’t say much. Nothing really. Just asked him if he was going to see you later. You know? To see if he’d received the same invite that we’d received? I didn’t tell him anything about the meeting or this place or anything. I swear.”

  Sam ground his teeth together. “And what did Nolan say when you asked him?”

  “I dunno. He just kind of gave me a weird look. Like I was an idiot. And then he said ‘no.’ That’s it.”

  “He didn’t say anything else?”

  “No. Nothing else. I swear.”

  Sam didn’t particularly care for how much the man was “swearing.” But at the end of the day, he hadn’t outed Sam or this meeting to Nolan. He’d asked a relatively innocent question, and Nolan apparently hadn’t pursued it.

  “Alright,” Sam growled. “No harm, no foul. Next time, let’s not assume I’m friends with anyone, or that I trust them.”

  “Okay. That’s fine. Sorry.”

  Sam turned again and continued on. Marie joined him as they picked their way through the darkness to a back room—some sort of receptionist’s or security office. They moved carefully so as not to trip over the detritus all around the burned out frame of the building. Collapsed ceiling tiles gone mushy with water and rot. Wires and conduits hanging down, or protruding out of walls that had collapsed.

  They felt their way into the back office, swung the door open and waited for the other seven to maneuver their way inside the cramped, dank confines that smelled only dimly now of ash. When they were all inside, Sam closed the door and Marie switched on a small, solar-powered light.

  In the thick gloom, the low light was plenty to illuminate the gathering.

  Seven worried faces watched Sam and Marie carefully.

  “Was anyone followed?” Sam asked.

  Glances were exchanged, followed by a round of shaking heads.

  “Good.” Sam fiddled nervously with his fingers. “I’m going to get right down to it. All of you have expressed a desire to do something about Greeley. I’m here to offer you a chance to put your money where your mouth is. Something is coming down the pipe—something big. It’s an opportunity that we can take advantage of, and I fully intend to do that.”

  “What?” a woman asked. “What’s happening?”

  “I’ll get to that in a minute,” Sam said. “First thing’s first. How serious are all of you about actually standing up for yourself and fighting back?”

  He didn’t get a very hearty response from that, but he wasn’t sure whether they were hesitant out of caution and mistrust, or if they were hesitant about fighting.

  The first man spoke again: “What do you mean by fighting?”

  Sam looked at him sharply. “I mean fucking fighting. I mean picking up weapons and using them against Cornerstone in an effort to liberate this city.”

  “Liberate?” another man scoffed. “There’s fucking seven of us. Eight with you. Even with all of our squads, that’s only fortyish people. That’s not enough to liberate a city.”

  “No, it’s not,” Sam conceded. “But what if you were a part of a much larger liberating force?”

  “Who are you talking about? Are there others that are willing to fight? Others on the inside?”

  Sam shook his head. “On the inside? No, it’s just us on the inside. I’m talking about an outside force. I’m talking about…” he hesitated. Then: “An invasion.”

  Silence.

  Followed by a quiet murmur from the woman: “Shit.”

  “Are you willing to fight or not?” Sam pressed. “If you’re not willing to fight, then we leave right now, we keep our mouths fucking shut, and we never speak about this again. But if you’re willing to fight, then we can keep talking.”

  “How big of an invasion force are you talking about?” another man asked.

  “Big enough.”

  More silence as they digested that. But in the glow of the pale light, Sam could see some of the worry in their faces turn to hope. That was good. That was what he needed to see.

  “I’ll fight,” the first man finally said. “I don’t have a problem with fighting and killing. But I’m not gonna risk my life or the
life of my squad for a lost cause. So I need you to skip over the bullshit right now and tell us straight up what we’re talking about. Who is coming and is this a winnable fight?”

  Rather than answer him, Sam looked to the others. “Do the rest of you feel the same way?”

  More nervous glances. And then they all nodded.

  It was time for another leap of faith. It was time for Sam to do what Lee could not—he had to trust these people. It was the only way to move forward. It was a big risk, but without that risk there would be no reward.

  “I’m going to tell you guys,” Sam said, his voice going low. Getting dangerous in its intensity. “But I will make this promise to you right now: If any of you fuck me over, I will find you and kill you. I can’t put it any simpler than that. We’re dealing with real shit right now. Life and death. I’m putting my trust in you guys. Do not fucking betray me.”

  “At this point?” the woman said. “We can’t betray you. That would require us to explain why we were even here in the first place. And you all know how that’ll turn out.” Her face grew stern and sharp. “Those Cornerstone motherfuckers will kill us all just for having had this conversation. The risk of letting us go outweighs the value we have to them. We’re nothing to them. We’re just human trash being put to use.”

  “Alright then,” the first man said after a few grunts of affirmation from the others. “We’re in it. No matter what happens, none of us speak a word of this, if for no other reason than self-preservation.” He looked at Sam. “Tell us.”

  Sam looked at each of their faces, hoping that they could see that he meant what he’d said, that he was not the one to screw over. “Lee Harden is coming.”

  At first, blankness, as they waited for something else. Then, confusion, as the name registered with them. And finally, shock.

  Three of them began speaking at once.

  “Wait. Here?”

  “He’s coming here?”

  “That’s impossible—he’s dead.”

  Sam looked at the last one that had spoken. “He’s not dead. I was face-to-face with him last week.” He left out the part where he had spoken to him on the satphone recently. He only wanted to mete out the details that were absolutely necessary.