Determination

by Nathan Jones

  If they reached it then taking them out would be much, much harder.

  His squad mates were also peeking over the makeshift cover. “I got this,” Tom said. He'd already pulled out a Molotov and had a lighter in his other hand.

  A small flame flared to life, down low out of sight of the enemy below. As the older man began to move the lighter towards the firebomb's makeshift fuse, a gas-soaked cloth stuffed into the lid of the glass jar full of gasoline, Trev caught his hand. “You realize if you pop up holding a burning Molotov every single blockhead in range is going to shoot you, right?”

  Tom snorted. “That's why I checked my target beforehand and am planning on tossing it from behind cover.” He tugged his hand free. “As long as you don't delay me so much they've moved by the time I throw.”

  Trev relented. Outside of family there weren't many people he trusted more than the older man. “Best of luck with it, then.”

  With another snort Tom lit the rag, which flared to life with almost painful intensity in Trev's night vision. The older man raised in a half crouch, still behind cover, and with a look of concentration tensed up and hurled the firebomb with all his strength. From below voices raised in sudden alarm, speaking in an unfamiliar language. Then, with a whumph that undercut the distant sound of gunfire, the valley below lit up with the fireball.

  Trev popped up from cover to see that Tom's aim had been pretty good. He hadn't hit the blockheads directly, but the firebomb had exploded just in front of them, spreading flames through the nearest trees in the scrub oak thicket. The enemy soldiers were backing away from the cover they'd been making for, completely exposed as Trev's squad mates and Graham popped up as well and lined up their targets.

  Blinded, surprised, and some on fire, the blockheads quickly fell to precise shots from only a couple hundred yards away. Most didn't even have time to locate the muzzle flashes of the people shooting them, and the single soldier who did point his gun their way was immediately hit by three different shots by Trev, Mason, and Graham.

  The Marine was laughing as they dropped back down to move to another position. “You know how much the explosives I work with cost? And just look at the fun you can have with a quart of gasoline. I love it when guests bring their own drinks to the party.”

  After that first bit of excitement there wasn't much more. Graham hadn't been lying about them being back behind the action. They watched the slopes to either side, and tried helping the Marines farther along the ridges by shooting at targets at extreme ranges, even though they had barely a hope of hitting anything. At least until Graham told them they should probably stop wasting ammo.

  Mostly Trev listened to reports on the fighting over the radio. There were a few spots where the blockheads threatened to break through, like on the forested slope south of the main canyon, where Matt's squad patrolled during the day. Trev didn't know who was over there now, a few squads of volunteers, but they were having some trouble. The main canyon itself was also having trouble, mostly because it was where the largest number of blockheads were trying to push through.

  He also had to listen to casualty reports and calls for medics. The blockheads were definitely getting the worst of this attack, but it wasn't all one-sided. Especially with the volunteer squads that didn't have night vision. They might've been behind cover in emplacements for the most part, but they still had way more guns pointed at them than they could point at the enemies. And since both sides were essentially shooting blind, the casualty rate would overwhelmingly favor the side with superior numbers.

  And the enemy got lucky even with the Marines. Williams called in a few casualties, and at one point Davis radioed main camp to let them know to expect wounded from him. And to Trev's dismay Matt radioed in to frantically report that Tony, one of the Russo brothers, had taken a bullet to the head and was unresponsive.

  Much as he wanted to be hope for the best, the rational side of him couldn't help but think that unresponsive was his friend's way of being hopeful, and really meant dead. Especially when Davis specifically asked if he needed to send a medic out, and Matt reluctantly replied in the negative. Trev bowed his head for a moment in grief, then passed on the grim news to Tom and Mason.

  It was well after the promised half hour before the sergeant finally had good news for them. “Sit tight, everyone, reinforcements are here. Two hundred of our friends from the Army. In a few minutes they'll have their assignments, then they'll move out to relieve our people at every position. They've also kindly offered to stay the night so we can sort out the damage to our camp, see to our wounded, get everyone moved to a more safe location, and get some proper sleep. That last is important, because we're expected to resume our duties in the morning.”

  Trev felt like cheering, and Graham actually did.

  The blockhead attack had been winding down for a while now. They'd fully committed to it, and had taken heavy losses testing defenses that were obviously stouter than they'd expected. Furthermore the helicopter, their most dangerous weapon, hadn't returned to cause any more trouble. Maybe they feared risking it once the enemy was alerted, after how many near misses it had endured.

  It took about twenty minutes for the Army troops to get people up to the ridge 2nd Squad was on. During that time they'd listened as the gunfire petered out, with reports of enemy troops doing their best to safely disengage all along the line. Davis and his fighters didn't make it easy for them, and they lost more troops on the retreat, but eventually the enemy was gone.

  The two squads of soldiers who replaced them didn't have much in the way of night vision, but they were disciplined and obviously knew how to move and fight in the dark. Trev watched them pick their way down the same slope his team had come down, while Graham went to greet them and guide them through the trees.

  In the meantime Williams was gathering his people to get them ready to move out, obviously relieved at the shift change. Trev's team held their position, even though they hadn't fired a shot in over a half hour, until half a dozen stony-faced soldiers came to take over the emplacement.

  He overheard a bit of banter between the Marines and the Army reinforcements, mostly the Army guys grousing about being sent out in the middle of the night to cover their butts. But from the sounds of it a nighttime shift, especially one covering the tail end of an attack, was actually a change of pace for them. They'd seen fighting at their own location just about every day since the blockheads rolled in.

  After a bit of orientation so the soldiers knew what to expect Williams led his squad back up the ridge, and Trev's team fell in line at the back. The attack was over, and he was more than ready to get back to his tent and crash.

  At least until he remembered that Davis wanted to move the camp into better cover in case of another aerial attack, and there still might be some stuff they needed to do to help out with the wounded. Which meant sleep would have to wait a bit longer.

  In spite of the stink of fires long since put out, and the few charred patches where the major tents had been, there wasn't much sign of the devastating helicopter attack that had started the chaos. At least until Trev saw the area where the victims of the attack had been dragged.

  Fourteen people, and that was just the bodies. Possibly not even all of them, if the other units hadn't had a chance to bring back those killed in the ground attack. From the sound of it Davis's medics were dealing with at least twice that many wounded. Objectively it was a crushing victory against the blockheads, but every loss counted when they were so seriously outnumbered.

  And personally a lot of good people had died tonight, including Tony Russo. A lot of friends and family left grieving loved ones. Trev didn't envy Matt the task of radioing the loss back to the refuge, assuming Tony's brother John didn't want to personally call it in to their family.

  Speaking of which, the two Aspen Hill squads had already returned to camp. They were gathered with dozens of other volunteers, all standing in front of four school buses incongruously parked on the road just nor
thwest of the closest tents. The vehicles the two hundred Army soldiers who'd come to help them had brought, he assumed.

  Trev barely had time to rejoin his squad and reassure himself that they were all okay before Davis trotted up, leading a couple of his Marines. “All right, everyone!” he bellowed. The conversation died, and the volunteers near Trev hurried over to gather around the sergeant.

  Davis was wearing night vision gear, and he used it to look over the crowd carefully as he spoke. “I can honestly say this is one of the hairier situations I've been through. The enemy hit us hard tonight to see how we'd take it, and I'm proud to say you all handled it as well as could be expected. Night attacks can be as risky for the attacker as for their target, and I'm fairly confident that after this they'll think twice about trying another one.”

  A ragged cheer burst out at that, until the sergeant lifted his arms for quiet. It took longer than it should have, with the darkness making him no more than a silhouette to many in the crowd. “But this is just a small skirmish in the war, and our job isn't close to over! If you're injured seek the medics for treatment, but otherwise I want you to do your part moving your camp and then get what sleep you can. The civilians have already agreed to help with the wounded and cleanup, so those trained and equipped to fight will be free to rest and resume patrols and sentry duty tomorrow.”

  “What about our dead?” Matt asked quietly.

  The mood of the crowd immediately sobered. “We'll bury them at dawn,” Davis replied quietly, “with full honor for their brave sacrifice. I wish we could give them more than hasty graves and our respect, but it'll have to do. Personally my Marines plan to do better for our own the next time we're off duty, and I'm sure many of you will want the same. Until then we have a job to do.” He abruptly raised his voice to a bark. “Get to work!”

  Trev jumped slightly and immediately began gathering his squad. The rest of the crowd split off into their own squads with commendable speed, then began making for the camp. They hadn't gone far before Davis caught up.

  “Smith, over here,” the sergeant said, motioning curtly.

  Trev nodded for his people to keep going and followed him off to the side a little. “What's up?”

  “What's up is that the recruits you're training just graduated. All of them. Congratulations. Which is great news for us, because it turns out we need more people out there guarding the canyons and other approaches.”

  “I'm not sure they're all ready,” Trev said, frowning slightly.

  Davis's mouth tightened in annoyance. “Then form the squads so the greenest recruits are paired with people who can carry their weight.” He turned and pointed north. “Were you following anything that went on tonight over the radio? The blockheads actually broke through and swarmed up onto the slopes a mile or so north of Cedar Creek Canyon. If the reinforcements hadn't rushed there first we would've been getting hit from the sides and from behind. We probably would've lost this area entirely, which means the enemy would've had foothold in the mountains.”

  “So ask your superiors to keep the Army guys here until things-”

  “They can't spare two hundred men!” the sergeant snapped. “They're desperately needed elsewhere, and we desperately need more bodies holding rifles out there on the slopes. Which means your remedial class just graduated. If their contributions to the fighting tonight weren't enough of a trial by fire, then they'll have plenty of chances to jump in with both feet in the next fight.”

  Trev wanted to argue, but unfortunately he'd be arguing against reality, not Davis. “I'll make sure they're ready to start in the morning.”

  “Good.” Davis gave him a curt nod. “Speaking of which, tomorrow your squad starts patrolling a route. Similar deal to how Larson's squad is watching the slope to the south of here, except you'll find a safe spot to camp closer to your route. Everyone will, actually; to reduce the risk of another attack we're going to be having sentries sleeping near or even in emplacements, and patrol squads as close as possible the midpoint of their route. Your people are going to be covering the area north of Cedar Creek Canyon.”

  In spite of himself Trev winced. “You just said the blockheads broke through that area! You want just us there?”

  Davis waved impatiently. “We didn't have anyone there at the time. Just a couple lookouts. Your squad should be able to handle it with the same conditions everyone else operates under. If it's a small threat you take it out, like Larson's squad did south of here. For a bigger threat you call for backup and watch their approach until we arrive, so we know where they're at, and slow them down if you can. Spend some time preparing defenses and you'll be fine.”

  Trev had his doubts about that, since the approach north of Cedar Creek was a lot easier than to the south. But he just nodded his acknowledgement of the orders. Then another thought struck him and he grimaced. “That also means you're stationing us right next to Vernon's people.”

  “For the love of . . . you're still on about that?” the Marine demanded. “Listen, it can't be helped. You know that area better than anyone, so it's where you'll do the most good.”

  “With all due respect, Sarge, the last time I ran into some of the Sheriff's thugs it ended in a fight.”

  Davis waved that away too. “I'll give Fred a good talking to, make sure he keeps his guys in line.” His tone hardened. “And I'll expect your people to do the same. Unless you don't think you can manage that.”

  Trev sighed. The sergeant seemed determined to toss him and Vernon at each other. Was he hoping they'd resolve their differences? Maybe it really was simply the necessary decision each time, and the results just seemed deliberate. “We'll be ready to head out after the funeral service.”

  * * * * *

  It didn't take as long as he'd expected to move their camp.

  Taking down the tents was a bit awkward in the dark, even with night vision, but for the most part the Aspen Hill volunteers had been packed up to move if needed anyway. As for their supplies, those had gone to Davis right when they arrived, and the sergeant would have the civilians moving them.

  As for finding a safer spot to move to, that was more a matter of discomfort than time. Davis wanted everyone spread out in case of another missile attack, and also under cover in case that offered some protection. So they just had to hike up the hill into the trees and scrub brush until they found a spot large enough to put down twelve sleeping bags.

  Putting up tents in that tangle would be a nightmare, and since they'd be setting up a new camp along their route north of Cedar Creek tomorrow anyway there was no reason to put too much effort into tonight's arrangements. Trev just wanted his people comfortable and asleep as soon as possible.

  The night vision gear came with solar rechargers that fairly reliably filled the batteries to capacity during the day for another night's use. Even so Trev had everyone put theirs away and work at clearing their own little sleeping space by the light of a single electric lantern. No guessing how things would go settling into their patrol route tomorrow, and they might not get a chance to get a full day's charging. He doubted a half hour or so of extra use on the batteries would make much difference, but you never knew.

  As they worked he filled them in on their new task. He also discussed the terrain and ideas for how best to patrol the route. His squad listened attentively, but aside from a few halfhearted responses nobody really got into it with him. They were tired and shellshocked, more than ready to leave all of that for the morning. After a few minutes Trev gave up and let them settle down in peace while he did the same.

  He was just about to take off his boots and crawl into his sleeping bag when Alice showed up with Pete from the direction of the main camp. She'd obviously gone to check on her friend rather than moving her stuff and getting ready for bed as ordered, but at least the two were lugging her things. They set it all down a short distance away, then to his surprise sought him out.

  “Hey Trev, got a second?” Alice asked, Pete hovering a few steps behin
d her.

  Here we go. Trev bit back a sigh and walked a short distance away from the impromptu campsite, the other two following. Then he turned to them and waited.

  The blond young woman gave him an uncertain look in the dim light. “Listen. I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

  Trev glanced past her at Pete, who was fidgeting nervously. It was obvious what Alice's favor was, and just as obvious their friend wasn't thrilled she was asking it on his behalf. “I'm listening.”

  If she was daunted by his noncommittal answer she didn't show it. “Matt had Pete assigned to permanent duty in camp. He's going to be cleaning weapons, scrubbing pots, cooking, that sort of thing. But he'd be way more useful in our squad, right?”

  “That's your favor?” he asked. Alice nodded. “All right, then. Go get some sleep.” He motioned to Pete. “Let's talk this over.”

  From the slightly brittle silence he had a feeling she didn't appreciate being effectively told to get lost. But even if she was Pete's friend this still wasn't really her business. He didn't want her there protesting when he gave Pete the bad news. And it was, unfortunately, going to have to be bad news.

  After a borderline rebellious pause Alice finally left, giving Pete a reassuring hug as she went. That left him and his friend and the elephant in the metaphorical room.

  Trev had to be honest, he didn't really see the problem with Pete wanting to shoot blockheads. That's what they were here to do, and you couldn't argue the Gold Bloc soldiers had certainly earned it. Still, Matt was closer to the situation than he was, and he trusted his friend's judgment.

  Even accepting that, it was hard to force the words out. “Sorry, Pete. Matt says you're better off in camp, so I'll follow his lead.”

  His friend swore. “What do you think about it, man? You know me. I'm a good shot, I don't freeze up in a fight, and I'd walk through fire to help a squad mate. If Matt's too squeamish to let me stay in his squad that's on him, but I can do more good out there fighting blockheads.”