Fire From The Sky | Book 11 | Ashes

by Reed, N. C.

  Clay and Greg trooped to his office after making sure Corey and Kurtis were okay. Corey was sad but determined while Kurtis just shrugged and said, ‘they made their choice’. Clay nodded in agreement and told the two to get some rest.

  “I thought, for some reason, that it wouldn’t start right away,” Greg admitted. “That it would take a day or two, at least. Instead, first day out the gate and here we are.”

  “Here we are,” Clay nodded. “I don’t want you out on the line during all this,” Clay told him.

  “What? Why?” Greg was stunned.

  “Because you’re the Sheriff, now,” Clay replied. “Last thing you need is to be accused of having been part of any ‘massacre’ or ‘slaughter’. So, you’ll stand a regular watch here, and not work the line.”

  “Clay, that ain’t fair to everyone else,” Greg pointed out.

  “Nothing about any of this is fair,” Clay snorted. “I’m asking teenagers to kill potentially unarmed people who try to access this place. Yes, I have a legitimate reason, and even orders to do so, but that doesn’t make it better. We need you where you are, Greg. I know you don’t like it, and I know this is just another reason for you to hate it, but this is how it is. We need you to be the Sheriff, and not just because you’re the best man for the job. We’re on the edge, here. Having the High Sheriff on our side will help. So, we need you clean and clear of any of this and in your position of Sheriff once this is over.”

  “I get it,” Greg said slowly, then snorted with laughter. “Old Man would be cackling like a hen to hear you talk like that.”

  “Wouldn’t he though?” Clay grinned sadly. “I admit I thought of him when I made the decision.”

  “You’re moving toward replacing him, man,” Greg told his friend.

  “I’ve thought of that myself,” Clay’s grin fell at that.

  “It ain’t a bad thing, Clay,” Greg told him. “Really it’s not. Someone has to do it, and Leon wanted it to be you. Most of the rest of us want it that way as well.”

  “Most?” Clay raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, I was against it, your lordship, but just on principal, you understand,” Greg fought to keep a straight face. “My vote was for Leon the Lesser, but he already had a job-,”

  “Get out,” Clay ordered, pointing at the door.

  Greg was still laughing as he walked away. Behind him, Clay waited until he was sure that Greg couldn’t hear him before laughing himself. Imagining ‘Leon the Lesser’ running things just made him laugh harder.

  -

  Marcy George was sitting at one of the many rough outdoor tables that had been constructed since the Storm. Each table had from two up to six chairs, depending on how large it was. This one had two. She was staring out at the fields behind the Square.

  “Hey, Marcy,” Titus Terry said softly as he walked up behind her. He was geared up for his shift on the Line, a name that had stuck when Clay used it and was now considered a proper noun by most.

  “Hey,” she replied softly, reaching up to grasp his hand when he placed it on her shoulder.

  “You okay?” he asked gently.

  “That’s a stupid question, Titus,” she answered sadly.

  “Well, you tell me how you want me to check on you, Miss Emancipated Teenager, and I’ll use that next time,” he shot back, squeezing her shoulder gently. “I care more about how okay you are than how smart I might sound.”

  She snorted a laugh at that and pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it softly before clutching it to her chest.

  “I have no idea what I’d do without you,” she told him, her voice so soft that he had to strain to hear her speak. “Without you, I’d be all alone.”

  “You’re surrounded by people who care about you, Marcy,” Titus scoffed at the idea. “Just cause none of them are as pretty as I am don’t mean they don’t care about you,” he joked. She laughed outright this time, hugging his arm to her.

  “You’re a mess, boy,” she shook her head. “And no, I’m not alright. I wish my brother and sister were here with me where I could keep them safe. My parents can fend for themselves, but with the state their mind was in when they left, I don’t trust them to take good care of Malcom and Bernetta. But I can’t do anything for them except pray right now.”

  “That ain’t no small thing, girl,” Titus turned serious for a minute.

  “I know,” she sighed, turning to look at him for the first time. “You’re on your way out to the line?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “Got maybe ten minutes or so.”

  “Please be safe,” she all but whispered. “Don’t make me cry over you, too. Not again.”

  “I will do my dead level best,” he promised seriously. “Promise.”

  She stood on her toes and kissed him quickly before fleeing to her house, afraid to watch him go. Titus waited for a minute before shouldering his rifle and heading for his post.

  -

  Heath Kelly had moved from the tower behind the Sanders’ home to the rear cupola of Building Two. From there he could watch the back approaches to the ranch proper. The post was comfortable, and heated, with a telescope and a pair of night vision binoculars for use by the night shift. He had relieved Nate Caudell a few minutes before, and knew that Kurtis Montana was relieving Jody Thompson by now, if he hadn’t already. The two of them would be on watch through the night.

  Heath knew that Zach had shot and killed four men earlier in the day who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Heath hoped he would not be put in that position but felt that to be a forlorn hope at best. No one had said it openly yet, but everyone knew that today was just the start. He checked his rifles before settling in behind the scope, using it until the light was gone for the day.

  He had been there less than ten minutes when he heard someone on the steps beneath him and shook his head, smiling gently. He opened the trapdoor to reveal Leanne Tillman standing on the landing below, fist cocked back to knock on the door.

  “How do you do that?” she demanded. “You always know when I’m around.”

  “I always will, too,” he promised, standing aside to allow her entrance before closing the door again, this time throwing the bolt to secure it. “Not that I’m unhappy about it, but why are you up here?” he asked when he turned to look at her.

  “Leon and I are splitting the duty in Operations,” she told him. “I drew the night shift for the first week. Lucky me,” she added sourly. “Anyway, Gwen and JJ have another hour to go before Janice and I relieve them. So, here I am,” she smiled brightly.

  “Here you am,” Heath chuckled. “Have a seat,” he told her, dimming the light in the cupola so he could see.

  “Trying to get me in the dark, Mister Kelly?” Leanne teased as he began to slowly move the scope across his horizon.

  “Always, Miss Tillman,” he replied airily, knowing it had made her blush even though he couldn’t see it. “Having you alone and in the dark is like a dream come true.”

  He smiled as he heard her behind him, spluttering and calling him stupid, her answer for anything he said that even came close to embarrassing her.

  “Is it true about Za-,” she began, but he cut her off gently.

  “Yes, it’s true,” he told her. “Four of them, trying to force their way through the roadblock. Refused to stop even when faced with one man already down.”

  “I just don’t understand,” Leanne sighed. “No, that’s not true. I do understand, at least in a way. But why throw your life away when there is actual help just a few miles in the other direction?”

  “All I’ve got is a guess,” Heath admitted. “They thought since this was a restricted area, that must mean there was something worth having down here somewhere. Technically, they’re right of course. But in this case, this place has been sealed off until further notice, and that was done at Captain Adcock’s command. It’s not up to us anymore.”

  “I know,” Leanne agreed. “It’s really not even about just us, anymore. This place and
a few others like it are all that remains in this area of the things we need to pick ourselves up and start over. We must preserve it. Protect the farm, the herd and everything else until we can start producing more food, more medicine and maybe rebuilding some technology.”

  “That is true,” Heath nodded, sitting back from the scope for a minute. “You’re really very smart for someone so vertically challenged,” he teased, darting into her personal space to quickly kiss her lips before she could explode.

  “I am smart regardless of my…my vertical challengedness,” she stammered, her face blooming red after he had kissed her.

  “That’s true,” he nodded. “You really are incredibly smart for someone so pretty,” he winked at her, sending her into a further fit of blushing as she once more murmured ‘you’re so stupid’ at him. It seemed to be her only defense.

  Laughing very softly, Heath began to scan the horizon one more time with the scope as the light began to fade away completely.

  -

  “Think we’ll get through the night without being challenged again?” Greg asked Jose Juarez. Jose was the night shift commander for now while Clay commanded during the day.

  “I have no way to answer that,” Jose admitted. “We don’t have any eyes on the interstate directly, so we can’t estimate how many are passing, or what shape they’re in. Other than a few drone passes in the light, we’re just sitting here, pretending to be a big old knot on a log.”

  “You know, one thing that’s not helping is that there’s no signage with that trailer we’re using for a roadblock,” Greg mused.

  “What do you mean?” Jose frowned. “We need a big ‘restricted area’ sign or something?”

  “No, I was thinking more of a ‘bridge out, road closed,’ sign, honestly,” Greg shook his head. “Something like that. Tells them why the road is closed off. It might deter some of them from even heading down this way.”

  “You mean those who aren’t discouraged by the four dead bodies at the interchange?” Jose asked dryly.

  “I would estimate it as very likely that those bodies will be gone in the morning,” Greg’s tone darkened. “There are scavengers of all kinds roaming this area anymore.”

  “I hadn’t considered that,” Jose grunted. “Some of that bunch on the interstate just might see that as a free lunch, disgusting as that may be.”

  “It may be all they’ve had for a while,” Greg shrugged. “I…I can’t bring myself to judge too harshly until I know the circumstances. It’s easy for me to say I won’t do something. I have no wife, no children, no aging parents. Nothing to worry about but myself. And I’m completely capable of living off the land, even in winter. I have a feeling that most of the people we’re seeing right now are not so capable.”

  “I would not disagree,” Jose nodded slowly. “Those four today were very well dressed for refugees from what I’ve heard. Their clothing was dirty, and damaged, but was obviously high quality. That speaks to me of someone living the city life and being used to getting whatever he or she needed or wanted on the way home with just a swipe of a debit card. Clearly that isn’t working anymore.”

  “Clearly,” Greg nodded. “I can under-,” He stopped suddenly as gunfire shattered the quiet for a second time that day.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Gordy Sanders had relieved Zach in the turret of the small Cougar blocking the road into the farm. He knew that other vehicles were arrayed to his right and left, but his responsibility was here. He was currently huddled up against the cold, the hood of his jacket pulled up to keep the snow off him. While not falling as hard or as fast as it had been that morning, the snow was still going, and it was a cold and wet snow. That, plus a slight but steady wind that had come up near dark combined with cold temperatures and taunt nerves to create a miserable atmosphere to be stuck in.

  Stacey Pryor was commanding the vehicle now, having relieved Shane Golden when Gordy had relieved Zach. Jenna Waller was in the passenger compartment monitoring their flanks while Janessa Haynes sat behind the wheel.

  Gordy had almost committed the cardinal sin of drifting off to sleep when he noticed a slight motion through his goggles.

  “Arrow,” he whispered into his throat mike, trying to limit his movement.

  “I see it,” Stacey replied at once. “Good eye, kid.” Seconds later Gordy heard Stacey calling the others spread across the defensive line.

  “All units be on your guard. Thug Life has movement front. Movement has not resolved itself sufficiently for identification. Stand by for updates.”

  “What can you make out, Chip?” Stacey asked softly, back on the vehicle communications. Gordy studied the movement carefully before answering.

  “I can make out at least five individuals, even from here,” Gordy informed him. “They know they aren’t supposed to be here, judging from their movement. They’re trying to be stealthy, but in the dark, and with the snow, it’s difficult for them to move quietly.”

  “Right. Stand by, then. I’m going to challenge them,” Stacey told him. “I’m not going to use the light just yet, but if I do, I’ll call ‘lights, lights, lights’, just like that, before I hit them, to give you enough warning to slip your gear to standby. Copy?”

  “Got it,” Gordy assured him. “Standing by.”

  “ATTENTION! SNEAKY PETES TRYING TO GET THROUGH THE ROADBLOCK! WE CAN SEE YOU CLEARLY AND KNOW YOU’RE THERE! THIS IS A RESTRICTED AREA AND OFF LIMITS TO ANY TRAFFIC FOR ANY REASON. REPEAT, THIS AREA IS QUARATINED FOR THE TIME BEING AND IS OFF LIMITS! NO TRAFFIC IS ALLOWED IN OR OUT! IF YOU REQUIRE ASSISTANCE, PLEASE MOVE EAST DOWN THIS ROAD TO THE TOWN OF JORDAN! THE NATIONAL GUARD HAS PEOPLE IN JORDAN WHO ARE SET UP TO RENDER AID!”

  There was no response, but Gordy caught the sudden movement he had missed before.

  “Arrow, be advised there are at least five more zombies on the south side of the road!” Gordy hissed urgently. “They started to move in the open after your warning. They weren’t visible until then.”

  “Roger that. Try to keep track of them,” Stacey warned. “We’ll try to help from here.” Seconds later he was on the radio again.

  “All units, all units, this is Thug Life. Be aware that we now have a minimum of ten, repeat ten tangoes moving on our front, refusing to heed warnings. They were using the dark to hide their movements until we broadcast our warning. You may well see individuals moving on your front, so take care!”

  As soon as he finished that radio call, Stacey was back on the P.A.

  “ATTENTION! ATTENTION! WE CAN SEE YOU CLEARLY ATTEMPTING TO ACCESS THE ROADBLOCK. PLEASE CEASE YOUR ACTIVITY AND LEAVE THIS AREA! THIS ENTIRE AREA IS OFF LIMITS TO ALL TRAFFIC UNTIL FUTHER NOTICE! REPEAT, THIS AREA IS BEING HELD IN ISOLATION UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MARTIAL LAW DECLARATION AND IS CLOSED TO ANY TRAFFIC, IN OR OUT! IF YOU CONTINUE TO MOVE THIS WAY, YOU CAN AND MAY BE FIRED UPON WITHOUT FURTHER WARNING! REPEAT, WE WILL OPEN FIRE IF YOU CONTINUE TO TRY AND ACCESS THIS AREA!”

  “Rush ‘em fellas!” a voice called from the dark. “They can’t see us all! Once we’re inside, we’re golden! He already said no one in or out!”

  “Gordy, you’re cleared to fire as soon as they hit the roadblock,” Stacey said at once, having heard the intruder’s call to his compatriots.

  “Copy that,” Gordy’s voice was flat. Dull. He had hoped not to have to do this. With so many targets moving toward him, he opted for the machine gun mounted on the turret rather than his rifle. He watched the trailer in front of him without blinking, counting each man who began to try to scramble over it in the dark. When the number hit five, Gordy took a deep breath and slowly squeezed the trigger.

  The M240 was loaded with a tracer for every fifth round. The glowing points of light formed a chain across the distance between him and the roadblock, showing the rounds from the machine gun tearing into the trailer and the men trying to cross it. He couldn’t hear the men crying out in alarm at the machine gun firing. They had been so sure that the guards would not fire on the
m that they had apparently decided it was a fact rather than a guess.

  Gordy reminded them it was more than just a possibility.

  The view from his goggles showed four men down from his first round of fire. He waited for a slow count of three before turning the gun on the remainder when they didn’t flee. Two more down, then three, then four. He stopped again, waiting. Eight of at least ten were now down hard, not moving. Surely that was enough.

  ‘Damn you!” a voice full on anguish yelled from the dark, though thanks to his goggles Gordy could see the figure shaking a fist at the vehicle. “Damn you for this! We were just looking for help! You just murdered innocent men!” The speaker had to stop then as he descended into fit of coughing, a sound that made Gordy’s skin crawl and sent a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

  “YOU WERE WARNED NOT TO CONTINUE TO ADVANCE! THIS REMAINS A RESTRICTED AREA, CLOSED TO ALL TRAFFIC IN OR OUT! YOU FORCED THIS ON US, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND! PLEASE, MOVE BACK AND TURN BACK TOWARD THE EAST AND THE TOWN OF JORDAN! THERE IS NO HELP AVAILABLE FOR YOU HERE AT PRESENT!”

  “That’s a damn lie!” the same man coughed his way through the accusation. “We know damn well there’s food down there, and a doctor! We need both!”

  “I REPEAT, THERE IS NO ASSISTANCE AVAILABLE FOR YOU HERE! PLEASE MOVE EAST, DOWN THE ROAD BEHIND YOU, TO THE TOWN OF JORDAN! THEY ARE ALREADY SET UP TO RENDER ASSISTANCE TO ALL REFUGEES THAT STOP HERE! WE LACK THE RESOURCES OR MANPOWER TO ASSIST YOU AT THIS TIME! PLEASE, I AM BEGGING YOU, DON’T MAKE US FIRE ON YOU AGAIN!”

  “You might as well!” came another cough laced reply. “You’ve killed all but two of us, and we’re dying without help you won’t give us! You mangy bastards! I hope you burn in hell!”

  Gordy noted that the sole remaining figure was checking those on the ground to see if they still lived. Apparently, they didn’t, as he moved back to the speaker after checking the last one. Still screaming threats and curses, the two began moving toward Jordan, leaving their dead friends where they had fallen.