Uprising

by Chris Harris

  Could he and his men do something to extract revenge? He was pulled back from his thoughts by Harris. “What were you going to do with us when you got us out of the camps?” he asked out of genuine curiosity.

  “The plan was to help you get north of here. There are plenty of towns that are free of the Chinese. Messengers have been sent to request these people take in refugees. Once there, we are going to start building the resistance movement. Plenty of folks will have military experience, we just need to get them organized and formed into effective groups. If we are going to kick the fucking Chinese out of our country, then we will need everyone who can hold a gun on our side.”

  “Count me in, sir. I guess there ain’t going to be much need for security guards for a while, so I may as well reenlist.”

  “Where did you serve?”

  Harris pulled himself straighter. “Marines, sir. I was with One-Eight. Two tours of Afghanistan. Started off in Sangin and it got a whole lot shittier from there. Got out after my second tour and have been doing security ever since.”

  “Well we could sure use you. We put the call out and our base in West Virginia is getting new arrivals every day. There are plenty out there looking for some payback.”

  Toby was being tended to by a soldier. He had come around and was sipping from a canteen and eating a high-energy bar the soldier had given him. The water and food was already helping him; he looked slightly better and was able to sit up unaided.

  “What about Marissa? She must be in a camp near here. We must try to get to her if we can,” Toby said.

  Troy looked at Harris. “Marissa?”

  “She was with us from the beginning; it’s why Toby got a beating when we got captured. He took offence at how the Chinese were handling her.” Harris then told Troy a brief version of their story from him allowing them into his bunker and their escape from Cleveland to their capture.

  Toby staggered up to Troy. “Come on Harris, let’s go and get Marissa. Her camp cannot be far away.”

  He walked unsteadily through the soldiers and headed toward the open gate. Harris turned to Troy, shrugged, and started to follow him. Harris caught up to Toby in a few steps. They had reached the gate when a shout from Troy stopped them.

  He walked up to them. “Look,” he said bluntly, “like it or not I feel like you’re my responsibility now. Hold on for a while and we will accompany you to find the women’s camp. Do you know where it is?”

  Toby looked at Harris and shook his head. “Not really. There were rumors from others in the camp that the women are being held in another prison close by.”

  Troy knew from studying the maps and intel that the town’s second prison was further out of town not far from where they were currently. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a map and studied it, refreshing himself on the layout of the area.

  He called his sergeants around him and they spent a few minutes discussing strategies. Harris and Toby stood watching. Toby was feeling stronger with every minute that passed, the energy bars he had eaten having an immediate effect and the liters of water he had drunk had rehydrated his parched body.

  Troy approached them. “I’m sending a few guys back to the overwatch position we had on the town to report on any Chinese movements. Once they give the all clear we will approach the prison.” He looked at Toby. “You feel strong enough to come?”

  Toby nodded. “I was heading there when you stopped us, wasn’t I? A marathon may be out of the question for a while but yes, if we are looking for Marissa then I’ll make it.”

  “Captain, do not worry about him, I’ll carry him if I have to. Let’s just get on with it.”

  Troy looked at them both and smiled. “I’m sure you will, buddy,” he said with a smile, “I’m sure you will.”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Three

  Swall, CA

  Sergeant Eddie Edmunds drove fast. His passenger held on as he negotiated the tight turns leading away from the main highway that ran the length of the San Joaquin Valley on the road to the town of Swall. Satisfied that the defenses he and the town had been busy building to protect themselves from any further Chinese encroachments were as good as the limited time and materials available allowed, he had decided to investigate the local area.

  The geography of the area helped. The single road that led to the pretty town cut through a steep-sided wooded valley. Using construction equipment and local farmers’ tractors and excavators they had blocked the road and created a system of earthen berms, foxholes, and bunkers. With the addition of the heavy machine guns and other arms gathered from the Chinese soldiers they had poisoned, they should, if not attacked by heavy armor, effectively protect the town.

  His worry was the people he had available to man these and the other defenses they had built. Most people with military experience had been rounded up and imprisoned in the first stages of the invasion. Along with the sick and elderly, they had been murdered in their tens of thousands by the Chinese in their inhuman policy of ridding themselves of any who may pose a threat to their plans.

  Subsequently he was left with civilians who had little experience of firearms manning bunkers and guard posts armed with modern military weapons. Showing them how to operate these weapons had been the easy task, but how they would act when under fire was unknown.

  Soldiers train for years under simulated battle conditions, so fire discipline, how to deal with a jammed or inoperable weapon, and any of the other myriad fast-changing situations that happen under the stress of battlefield conditions were a taught skill.

  He’d only had days to impart his years of knowledge and skill on the willing but untried locals and was under no illusion that as soon as the bullets started coming downrange, their defenses, no matter how well built and strong, could easily be overrun.

  He just hoped that the knowledge they were defending their homes, family, and country would give them the courage and steel to remain fighting when everyone’s natural instinct would be to run and hide.

  Eddie, along with and old farmer called Wayne, who had fought in the Vietnam war, left the valley and ventured further afield. Wearing civilian clothes and with their guns well hidden, armed with a travel permit stamped and signed by one of the townspeople who had been entrusted to work in the local commander’s office, they drove a pickup truck loaded with local produce. They hoped that if stopped the cover story that they were transporting foodstuffs to another location would be deemed genuine enough to allow them to pass scrutiny.

  Happily surprised that they had had no contact from any other Chinese forces investigating why their little area of control had gone quiet, they needed more intelligence about what was going on in the wider world. The only assumption he could make was that the administration of linking and coordinating the huge array of men and materiel they already had in country had not yet caught up with the speed they had assumed control.

  Choosing not to take the main highway, they had driven north using roads that ran parallel. The first checkpoint they came across was fifteen miles from their town in a small village. The bored sentries accepted their cover story and barely glanced at the pass Eddie handed over, waving them through with barely a pause.

  Wayne told him to stop at the small store in the village that sold trinkets to tourists and basic supplies to locals to save them the longer journey to the larger shops in the next town. He knew Bobby the owner and wanted to check in on him, telling Eddie he had known him for years and he could be trusted. Eddie parked the truck outside and, trying to look as casual as they could, they walked into the store.

  The proprietor, leaning on the long counter that ran along one side of the store, looked up as they entered, the small bell on the door unnecessarily announcing their arrival.

  He smiled as he recognized his old friend. “Wayne, my friend,” he called out. “What brings you to these parts? I haven’t seen many from Swall since our unwelcome guests arrived.”

  Wayne and Eddie nervously glanced around, a fe
w people were in the store picking goods off the shelves. Noticing their reaction, he waved his arm toward them. “Don’t worry, you are among friends here.”

  Eddie, conscious of maintaining their cover story, spoke loudly enough for the others to hear as he shook his hand. “We have been ordered to deliver produce to stores in the area. Do you have need for anything?”

  Bobby noticed the look on Wayne’s face and lifted the hatch on the counter, keeping up the conversation. “We could always use more, why don’t you come through to my office so we can discuss this further.”

  As they followed him through the door he called to his young assistant who was sweeping the floor to mind the counter whilst he conducted some business. Ten minutes later Wayne and Eddie had fully updated him on the events in Swall. His elation that something was being done gave Eddie the reassurance that the man could be trusted. Bobby then told them all he knew about their situation. The Chinese only had a small detachment in the village who reported to the larger garrison in the next town, ten miles further up the road.

  Since the rounding-up of locals in the first few days of the invasion the villagers had quietly gone about their business trying not to get in the way. The villagers had met and discussed what they could do, but most of the fighting-age men had been detained and hadn’t been seen since they had been herded into trucks and driven away, so their capability to do anything had been reduced. They chose to carry on with their daily lives but be uncooperative and subtly hinder the Chinese in any way they could. Bobby expressed shame at how little they had done compared to the citizens of Swall.

  Twenty minutes later they were back in the truck, a few boxes of vegetables lighter, but with an agreement that Bobby would start to rally the locals to prepare in any way they could to begin to fight back when the time was right.

  Avoiding the main road, they visited a few more villages that lay between Swall and the highway, and if their instincts told them they could trust the locals they told the news of their rebellion in the hope that it would spread. Eventually with the back of the truck empty they decided they had learned enough, and it was time to head back.

  The numerous cups of coffee they had accepted caused them to both need to answer the call of nature and so they pulled over to the side of the road. Standing, directing his stream, Eddie looked across from their elevated position down over the flat valley to the distant highway.

  The distance was too great to see any detail, but he could make out a lot of movement on the road. He turned and picked up the binoculars from the dash of the truck. To his dismay he could see the highway stretching into the distance was full of military trucks and yellow school buses all heading up the valley. At every junction some vehicles peeled off from the convoy and headed along roads that led toward other towns and villages along the valley.

  Still looking at the magnified view he called to Wayne, “It looks as if they are reinforcing the garrisons along the whole valley. If each of those buses and trucks are carrying soldiers there must be thousands of them.”

  In silence they watched the progress of the convoy that distance made look agonizingly slow.

  “Shit! Fifteen, no twenty vehicles have turned off at the Swall junction. We need to get back now! They can only be heading our way.”

  They both turned and ran back to the truck. Its tires screeched and with its engine revving Eddie put his foot to the floor and the pickup truck shot up the road toward their hometown.

  Racing along the road Eddie thought about their situation. He had seen no armor in the convoy for which he was thankful. They had a large quantity of shoulder-launched anti-tank rocket launchers which were similar to the ones he had been trained on. Needing to be operated by troops in a battlefield situation their operation was not hard to understand and with his knowledge of Chinese he understood the operating instructions stamped on them.

  The option not to fight did not exist. If the invaders discovered what they had done their lives would be forfeit anyway. Their only course of action was to defeat them or die trying. Their truck screeched to stop by the barricade and Eddie was pleased to see the locals manning it were alert due to the many guns pointing toward him. He was even more pleased no one pulled their trigger.

  Not wanting to waste the time opening the barrier to let the vehicle through, he and Wayne, after grabbing the weapons they had hidden in the car, scrambled up the ladder he had shouted to be lowered. All eyes were on him as he stood in the center of the defenses they had constructed.

  He raised his voice so all could hear him. “Twenty or so trucks and buses are heading this way. I can only guess it’s reinforcements or replacements for the garrison here. We cannot let them through.”

  He let the statement to sink in for a moment; soon they would be fighting the enemy.

  “It’s going to get real in a few minutes. We have the advantage of surprise and we must make the most of it. Do not hold back. We must keep the pressure on them and not allow them to get organized. If they do, then their training will take over and it will be all over for us.

  “We are fighting to protect our families and friends. Once you open fire do not stop until there is no one left to shoot at. Those with rocket launchers, you know how to use them, take your time and aim straight. The signal to fire will be when I open fire. Everyone check your ammo and call out targets. Hold your fire and wait for my signal.”

  He turned to the group of men and women who were the designated reserve force, ready to replace their fallen friends or go where ever the battle dictated. “You guys hold here. When we need you though, do not hesitate—go to where you are told and fight hard no matter what you see.”

  He could not add any more. The training he had given was not sufficient and would not prepare them for the coming battle. He had to trust that their courage would last and give them the strength to fight. Faces grim with determination, the townsfolk looked at each other. Handshakes were exchanged, some hugged as longer friendships were acknowledged but they all hefted their weapons and, carrying extra ammunition or rocket launchers, headed to their allocated positions on the defenses, or waited to be called.

  The few people who had military experience, whose age or good fortune had spared them from the Chinese purge, had become the captains in Sergeant Eddie Edmunds’ militia. They spent their time walking between the firing positions, passing on a few last words of wisdom or encouragement before settling in to their own spot. Silence descended.

  Eventually the revving of engines could be heard as the approaching vehicles negotiated the final few bends leading to their town. Eddie had laid out the road block with careful consideration. Bunkers and trenches lined the road leading up to the barricade, so fire could be brought to bear, not just on the lead element of anything that approached, but the flanks as well. Fields of fire had been cleared along the sides of the road to reduce available cover for an attacking force to shelter behind.

  Standing in a firing position in the center of the line Eddie had to cast all doubts aside. He had done his best; he had to trust that everyone would do their duty to the best of their abilities.

  Crouching down he watched as a lorry appeared around the corner and slowed as its driver realized the way ahead was blocked. He waited, the tube of the launcher in his hand, primed and ready to fire—it would only be a matter of a few seconds for him to raise it to his shoulder and fire. He could see the driver on his radio, seeking instructions from a superior. The roadblock had caught him by surprise and he was clearly unsure what to do next.

  The driver put the bus into gear and moved forward again, getting closer with every second that passed. Eddie still waited; he needed to get as many of the vehicles into the kill zone as possible. Every meter mattered. Luckily for them the time of day worked in their favor. The sun was behind them, low in the sky, shining straight through the front windscreen of the truck making it harder for the driver to see clearly ahead. As it got closer the driver honked the horn as if to indicate he wanted the g
ate to open. Judging they had pushed their luck as far as they could, he knew the time to spring the trap was now.

  Quickly checking the rocket launcher was still ‘live’ he stood up and took aim. It only took him a second to aim at the cab and fire. The rocket leapt from the launch tube and sped faster than the eye could follow to pierce the window of the truck and explode in a deadly fireball. Picking up another launcher, he aimed this time at the rear of the truck. In a matter of seconds it was a burning mangled wreck. Bodies, blown from the rear by the force of the explosion, lay unmoving on the road.

  Seconds later more rockets flew toward other vehicles further along the convoy as people recovered from the shock of the first explosion and fired. Gunfire began to tear into the trucks and buses as everyone else opened up, belt-fed machine guns and assault rifles firing on fully automatic, smashing windows and puncturing the thin sides of the trucks and buses. The inexperience of the defenders showed as a lot of the rockets missed and exploded harmlessly away from the targets. Eddie just hoped that they had not inadvertently hit other defenders, but he knew that the explosions would still be adding to the mayhem and confusion their surprise attack had created.

  Soldiers spilled from the trucks and return fire began zipping overhead or hitting their positions. The air became filled with falling leaves and splinters of bark as bullets shredded the trees around them. The battle now hung in the balance as the untrained, untested defenders fired wildly at the hundreds of trained battle-hardened veterans who, now recovering from the shock of being attacked unexpectedly, began to get organized and fight back. Outgoing fire began to dwindle as the defenders found themselves pinned down by returning fire.