by Nathan Jones
Trev brought his scope up to his eye. He didn't see anyone yet. Beside him Matt lifted his radio. “Is it Lewis?”
“Not unless Halsson turned into a Hispanic dressed in combat fatigues and body armor and carrying an M16 on his back.” Tom paused for a second. “He's not carrying a white flag or anything, but he's just jogging towards the roadblock and he doesn't look like much of a threat.”
“I see him,” Trev said, peering through his scope. “I don't recognize him but he's probably one of Ferris's people.”
“All right,” Matt said into the radio. “Stand down but be ready to shoot if he reaches for his rifle. Let's see what he wants.”
As the raider approached Lewis finally appeared from around the side of the building to the right of the roadblock, panting like a bellows. His arrival precipitated a sudden hush from the roadblock's defenders, and as he stumbled over to join Trev and their friend several people murmured appreciative words or even stepped forward to shake his hand.
Lewis reached them in time to endure Trev's crushing hug and Matt gripping him around the shoulders. “Are you all right?” their friend asked.
“They were too surprised to even shoot back at me before I was gone,” Lewis said between panting breaths. Then his cousin abruptly continued, tone businesslike. “Has the guy coming up the road reached us yet?”
That turned everyone's attention back to the approaching raider, who was now almost within shouting distance of the roadblock. Matt clambered onto the lefthand car and yelled for the soldier to stop where he was. The man immediately complied, lifting his head from an intense inspection of the road so his helmet no longer hid his face.
Trev didn't recognize him, but from the way Matt stiffened his friend obviously did. “Private Gutierrez?” he called, surprised.
The man flinched slightly. “Please don't use my rank,” he called back. “I don't consider myself worthy to be addressed as a member of the US Army. Just call me Raul.”
Trev did his best to keep his expression neutral. He could certainly agree with that. “Why are you here?” he yelled, climbing up beside his friend. Lewis, more pragmatic, had joined other defenders in lining up a shot with their rifles in case Gutierrez tried anything.
The man looked away for a moment then met their eyes, one after another. “I'm done with Ferris's group. I've come to join your side, if you'll let me.”
“I've got some questions first,” Matt said cautiously. “Kick away your rifle and get to your knees, hands on your head.” The former soldier complied, although rather than mishandling a weapon he obviously had great respect for he set it down carefully and moved away a safe distance. Matt had Trev run forward to pat him down and bind his hands behind his back with zip ties, then retrieve his rifle and lead him to the roadblock.
“What do you mean, you want to join us?” Matt asked as he helped the restrained man over the car.
“Just what I said,” Gutierrez replied, still having trouble meeting his eyes. Trev watched him suspiciously from behind and to the side. Guilt, or deception? “Being part of Ferris's group isn't who I am. Who I want to be.”
“That's who you were, though,” Lewis argued, finally slinging his G3 on his back. “Who you've been all this time. Why the sudden change?”
Matt gave him an annoyed look. “Let me handle this.”
“It's okay, he's right,” the former soldier said. “I won't pretend I was just an observer to things when I was with Ferris, or try to excuse my actions. I've done stuff I'm not proud of, obeyed orders I knew were wrong, and kept doing so long after I knew it was my duty to refuse those orders. I watched innocent people get hurt and did nothing to stop it.”
“So why come to us?” Trev demanded, trying to sound stern rather than harsh.
“Because I can only lie to myself so much. Ferris took a lot of things from a lot of people, but most of the time he didn't have to do more than push around a few upstarts who balked. He kept insisting he was doing his best not to hurt anyone, and I was able to fool myself into thinking that he meant it. But I always knew it was a lie when I watched him order Turner to execute any prisoners we'd captured, those who tried to defend themselves after he'd given them his ultimatum about surrendering. Sometimes he'd even execute them himself.”
Gutierrez shuddered. “I never hurt anyone, I just helped take their stuff. I tried to tell myself if I wasn't hurting them I wasn't hurting them, you know? But deep down I knew what it meant to leave them in the cold with nothing. It's eaten at me all winter, especially as Ferris got more and more brutal with anyone who resisted, but I was afraid that if I left the group I'd be in the same situation as everyone else and I'd end up starving to death too.”
The would-be defector raised his eyes from Matt's chin to meet his gaze. “What your town just did woke me up. Everyone else in the convoy is pissed off and ready to rip this place apart, but I was actually cheering you guys on for being the first group that not only had the courage to resist but also the ability to maybe fight us off. Before I left to join you guys I tried to argue with the others that maybe we should just leave your town alone, but nobody would listen to me. They're out for your blood.”
He shuddered. “I never thought I was with good people, but I at least thought they had some morals. Now I know better. You don't want to know the things they were talking about doing to you after your sniper killed Ferris and Turner.”
There were murmurs from the other defenders, and Matt shared a grim look with the cousins. “Is the convoy going to attack?”
“I don't know,” Gutierrez admitted, sounding eager to answer and a bit crestfallen that he couldn't. “I'm guessing that with Ferris and his second in command gone leadership will probably fall to a guy named Joaquin, leader of a small group of raiders Ferris took in rather than fighting them. Him or maybe Berthold.”
Matt nodded. “Berthold commanded the FETF detachment under Ferris last fall, right?”
The soldier nodded. “Although he hasn't had nearly as much influence since Turner knocked him down a peg and sort of took control of the, uh, former US soldiers working for Ferris. Berthold's not quite as brutal as Turner or Ferris were, and with them gone he might take over. If so that's good for you because there might not be a fight at all.”
“How many people are in the convoy and what weapons do you have?” Lewis asked.
Gutierrez was eager to answer, and thorough in his descriptions. It turned out that there were 46 people left in the convoy now that Ferris and Turner were dead, possibly soon to be 45 if the missile launcher handler Lewis had shot in the shoulder didn't make it.
They were fairly well equipped, too, because the FETF camp at Antelope Island that had been taken over by refugees had been well supplied with weapons as well as food. It had resulted in a lot of bloodshed in the next few weeks, but also an opportunity for Ferris to make a big score.
After leading his group north the former administrator was able to take control of a weapons cache from the gang that held it, getting enough fuel to begin raiding nearby areas as well as capturing the trucks the convoy was using at the moment. He also got his hands on military grade weaponry like dozens of M1As, three missile launchers and nearly a hundred missiles, crates and crates of grenades of all varieties, and two .50 caliber heavy machine guns, one already attached to a vehicle and the other on a sturdy tripod so it could be quickly moved and mounted. There were also plenty of gas masks, hazmat suits, and riot gear and body armor.
Once he described the convoy's equipment Gutierrez went on to cover their brutal history raiding through the winter, including all the towns and populated areas of the bigger cities they'd hit. He even offered to testify to the crimes he'd seen his fellow raiders commit, assuming they could be captured and a formal court convened.
The raider defector talked for a long time, almost a half hour, with no news of any activity from the convoy. Trev was just thinking they should probably send people back out to see what was going on when Gutierrez finally se
emed to wind down.
“I can't really think of anything else right now, but I'd be happy to tell you anything else you want to know about what our group was up to before we came here,” Gutierrez assured them. He hesitated. “Although I did have one question. Is, um, Mandy . . .”
Trev felt his expression sour at the mention of the blond woman. He'd heard a bit about her hooking up with a FETF soldier from the gossip circles, but he hadn't connected the dots between that and Gutierrez. Maybe it was petty of him, but it was another reason not to like the man.
Beside him Matt shook his head. “She was exiled for trying to steal food not long after you left.”
“Not too surprising.” The former soldier sighed. “Probably a good thing. Definitely a good thing. Nothing good came from being with her. A lot of bad, actually.”
. . . Or maybe it was a reason to like the man.
After looking at him thoughtfully for a minute or so Matt motioned to a couple of people manning the roadblock. “Get him to Chauncey and have him learn what he can about Ferris's group, then make sure he's comfortable and well guarded in a secure place.”
As Gutierrez was led away, hands still bound behind his back, Matt caught his shoulder and looked into his eyes. “I owe you for saving me and Sam from Razor last fall,” he said quietly. “And from what I remember you seemed like a good guy back then. But a lot has changed over the winter.”
Gutierrez nodded. “I get it.”
Once the man was gone Trev sidled up to his friend. “I didn't know he saved you and Sam. Actually I didn't know much about him at all until just now.”
Lewis gave him an impatient look. “Now's not the time to get on Matt's case for failing to fill us in properly.” He turned to their friend. “I take it you trust him, at least a little?”
“Yeah. A very little.” Matt lifted his radio. “Tom, how do you feel about abandoning your sniper's post to try to get an eye on the convoy?”
There was a reluctant pause before the older man answered. “Like I'd really rather not.”
“Will you anyway?” Trev gave a start as his friend turned to him and his cousin, still pressing the radio's transmit button so Tom could hear. “Trev, Lewis, will you go with him?”
Trev glanced at his cousin, who sighed. “I should've just changed positions and kept observing them,” he muttered. “Maybe I panicked.”
Matt shook his head. “I don't think you did. They'll be more careful about securing their perimeter from now on. Stay far back, far enough that you can barely see the vehicles and they can't see you, and just let us know if they move and in which direction.”
Lewis nodded thoughtfully. “Fine with me.” With that his cousin turned and started for the lefthand building, pulling out his night vision goggles to hang around his neck until it got dark enough to use them.
Trev hurried to follow as they made their way around the roadblock and started circling towards where the convoy was parked.
* * * * *
Terry had got the wounded stabilized and found volunteers to help carry them on stretchers back to the clinic before Tom and the cousins reported in that the convoy had pulled their trucks into a tight defensive formation and now appeared to be arguing.
About a half hour later Trev radioed in that the raiders were driving away, back towards Highway 6. At that news the people behind the roadblock cheered, and more cheers came through the radio.
Matt wasn't about to start celebrating, though. “Can you guys follow them and make sure they're gone?” he asked over the hubbub.
“Sure, although we might just find empty road when we get there,” Trev answered.
The mood around Matt was much lighter with the wounded gone to receive whatever help Terry could give and the news that the raiders were gone. Matt had a bad feeling that things were too easy, even with Lewis's skill at sniping.
He almost wasn't surprised when Trev and Lewis reported back after a half hour or so to say that three of the six trucks had taken a defensible position across the highway at the turnoff and were settling in, while the cousins running ahead of Tom to reach the highway had arrived just in time to see the taillights of the other three trucks heading south.
The mood at the roadblock immediately sank into gloom again, although a few optimists pointed out that at least the trucks were farther from town now.
Not long after that even the optimists shut up when Pete Childress and Rick Watson, two of the snipers watching the garden plots and the south border of town, reported sighting trucks driving without headlights following the small roads outside of town, never getting too close. Only minutes later Jane reported a truck passing by the mouth of Aspen Hill Canyon headed north, scouting the area.
With each new enemy sighting Matt felt his nerves fraying, even though nobody reported any confrontations and he'd ordered his people to only attack if fired on. The hours passed like days and he wished he dared risk a light, just so he could see something. But with the enemy out there, almost definitely with night vision considering the trucks without headlights, they couldn't take any risk.
Finally Matt called the cousins back to town while Tom kept an eye on the convoy, although he didn't give the order because he needed their help. An hour later when they finally approached the roadblock in the dark, radioing ahead so they wouldn't get shot at, he pulled them aside from everyone to talk.
“You should probably put the defenders on shifts so they can start getting rest,” Lewis advised, his own yawn nearly interrupting the suggestion. “This looks like it might drag out and we want as many sharp eyes and minds as possible.”
Matt nodded. “That's probably a good idea.” He changed the subject, coming right out with it. “You should go.”
“Okay,” Trev said, also yawning. “We'll be able to take over the morning shift that way.”
“No, I don't mean to bed,” Matt corrected, a bit impatiently. “If these raiders decide on a siege they'll surround the town and you'll be trapped in here. You guys need to get to Trev's family before the Gold Bloc invades, right?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I can still hardly believe that. We're looking at a foreign invasion and Ferris is going around attacking Americans.”
“Was,” Trev corrected. He looked a bit insulted. “You think I'm leaving the town right now the way things are going? We already had this discussion.”
“I have to agree,” Lewis said reluctantly. “I didn't think going was a good idea in the first place, and anyway I feel like I need to stay here. I'm the one who took out the raiders' leaders, and whether the consequences for that are good or bad I need to see it through.”
Trev shook his head. “Well I hope we're still going once we get things sorted out here, even if we're delayed a bit.”
Matt sighed. He was glad the cousins would be staying to help the town, but at the same time he felt a built guilty about the clear worry on Trev's face. And after his friend had helped Matt get April's family he felt like he owed him something, some help, even if he couldn't go with him.
But if their minds were made up the town needed everyone they could get. “All right, then. Go get some rest you two. I'll want you fresh in the morning.”
Before too long the cousins had disappeared in the direction of the shelter, and Matt settled in at the roadblock and began calling for reports on the radio to make sure nobody in vital positions was falling asleep. He wouldn't have minded falling asleep himself, but he forced himself to stay active. He also began organizing shifts and relieving most of the people who weren't out watching the approaches to the town to get some sleep.
It was going to be a long night.
Epilogue
Calm Before the Storm
Three days passed, and although raider trucks were frequently sighted in spots all around the town they never tried to attack.
Trev almost wished they would. This delay suggested a plan, and he didn't like plans where dozens of heavily armed and likely well trained soldiers were concerned. But more import
antly each day that passed brought him closer to the deadline and the Gold Bloc invading from the north. He felt the pressure to go after his family almost like a weight in his chest, threatening panic whenever he thought of what might be happening to them.
George and Clair Smith were sensible people, far more sensible than their son, and Trev trusted that if they were in danger they'd figure out the right thing to do. If there was a right thing. That was the problem, when this chaotic world following the Gulf refineries attack often didn't have a good solution and no amount of planning or preparation was enough.
His parents might not be able to handle whatever was coming, and Trev couldn't bear the thought of them being hurt. Of his siblings being hurt. His sister Linda, only a year younger than Alice and, like Alice, always trying to act older than she was. But still a kid at heart when it came to tickle fights with her brothers. And Jim, who always acted exactly his age of twelve, wanting to be included in activities for younger kids as well as for adults, and always disappointed when told he was too young or too old to do anything.
They needed their big brother. His parents needed their son. And he needed to find them. But he couldn't, not while Aspen Hill was threatened.
At the moment he and Lewis were patrolling southeast of town, trying to get beyond where the trucks usually drove past so they could see if raiders were being dropped off and digging in at strategic positions, or even worse trying to sneak their way closer to town to pick off defenders.
They'd gone silently, doing their best to stay out of sight, but at the moment they'd determined that there were no enemies nearby and had paused inside a small copse of trees to rest and eat a bit.
As he gnawed on some tough venison jerky, which Lewis and Jane had made to preserve the meat they'd brought in as the days grew warmer, Trev glanced uncomfortably at his cousin. He'd danced around asking the pressing question for days now, which was made easier since Lewis had kept to himself most of the time.
“Are you okay?”