by Lee West
~ ~ ~
Sam held Jane’s hand as they listened to the gunshots over the radio. Doris’s home had turned into a war zone. Knowing the team had sustained casualties bolstered Sam’s desire to help. He needed to get to Doris’s house and provide medical assistance to the injured officers.
“Eagle’s Nest, this is Blue Jay. All clear. Repeat, all clear. No casualties. We caught a group advancing in the dark.”
“Let them know a team will reinforce them tomorrow,” said the chief to the radioman.
The chief turned to Charlie. “I need you to assemble a team equipped with medical supplies and ammunition. Get down there ASAP. They need reinforcements. Looks like the New Order is hell-bent on taking that place.”
“Will do, Chief. Once I drop off the reinforcement team, I plan to get back into town. The veterans will need the weapons and ammunition I hid behind my house. I’ll join them for the push into Porter,” said Charlie.
Sam knew Charlie was desperate to be with Gayle. Standing up, Sam interjected, “I’ll go too. I was a Fleet Marine Force corpsman. I can help with the injured.”
“Sam! We need to talk about this. You can’t just go. Didn’t you hear? They were under attack,” said Jane.
“All the more reason for me to go. I have experience rendering the kind of battlefield medical care they need. I have to do this. You and Lea can stay here. I’ll be fine.”
“Jane, we could sure use Sam’s help,” said the chief.
“Then I’ll go too. We need to stay together.”
“I need you here, with Lea. She needs your protection more than I do. I’ll get things stabilized at Doris’s house then come back, no problem.”
“I need you on watch rotation up here, Jane. Sorry to be selfish, but we’re stretched pretty thin. Most of the team went to Doris’s house. Making a big push into Porter leaves us a little exposed up here,” said the chief.
“Alright. I’ll stay.”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll move out before daybreak,” said Charlie.
Sam and Jane walked silently toward their cabin. Holding her hand, Sam stopped and said, “Let’s not go back yet. I want to be alone with you for just a little while.”
He pulled her close and kissed her passionately and longingly. Running his hands over her body, he felt her smooth curves.
“I love you, you know,” he said.
“I know. I just wish you weren’t so damned useful. If you didn’t know how to patch people up, I would be able to keep you for myself.”
Laughing, Sam stroked her hair. “Yeah. But if I wasn’t so useful, you might not have kept me around for so long.”
“Good point.” Jane swatted Sam’s backside and said, “Let’s get you inside so you can rest up for tomorrow. You’re going to need all the energy you can get to keep up with Charlie. He seemed pretty eager to reunite with Gayle.”
“I can’t blame him,” said Sam, kissing Jane one more time.
They walked into the cabin, where Lea peacefully slept.
Chapter Twenty
Charlie kept the team’s pace brisk as they moved their way back down the trail to Doris’s house. He had been up and down the trail so many times, it was becoming second nature to him. Thoughts of Gayle swirled in his head as he tried to stay focused on the path and getting to the safe house in one piece.
“We’re roughly thirty minutes out, give or take,” said Charlie to the men.
“Do we know the severity of the casualties?” asked Sam.
“Not yet. I only know that two men need critical care and about six others need the basics. It could’ve been a lot worse.”
“The sooner we rid our towns of the New Order, the better. Things are going to be tough enough moving forward,” said Sam.
Sam was right. The New Order was only one part of a long line of problems they all faced. They still had no idea what had killed the cars and the electricity, or how long the grid would remain down. He guessed it would be a very long time, which meant they had a lot of work ahead of them. Work they couldn’t accomplish with a bunch of convicts running around the surrounding towns.
As the team made their way along the trail, Charlie caught partial glimpses of Doris’s white house in the distance. He could not believe he was once again heading into Porter. At this point, he assumed he would have been reunited with Gayle at HQ, planning the attack on Porter.
“Hold up. I need to radio our arrival to Overlook One,” said Ray Ross, an Evansville police officer.
Stopping, Charlie realized how distracted he had become. Thoughts of Gayle blocked out his operational sharpness. He needed to stay sharp, or he would never see her again.
Ross pulled out his radio and gave the agreed-upon signal, turning to Charlie a few seconds later.
“All clear. Ready when you are to move out.”
Charlie, Sam and the other five men walked out into the open field toward Doris’s house. The driveway was littered with shell casings; several dark brown stains marked where someone had fallen. This must have been the scene of the attack last night. Now more than ever he needed to be alert and ready for anything. His life and future with Gayle depended on it.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Boss paced the front porch of his house. He could hardly believe that the cops had bested him again. He needed to do something, fast. He didn’t tell the men, but he was pretty sure the cops were building up an attack force at that house on the trail, getting ready to come back into Porter. Why else would they defend the place? That was what he would do. He was sort of surprised that none of his men had figured it out. It seemed obvious to him.
Then again, this wasn’t the brightest group out there. He’d keep his thoughts on the matter to himself for now. Many of them would flee if they knew a storm was brewing. There was little loyalty among them. Food, booze and cigarettes were the motivators that kept this changed world running, but once the supplies ran out, the Boss couldn’t count on any of them. They’d slip away one by one until he was left with his dick in his hand and nothing else.
By his last estimation, he had roughly fifty to sixty men still with him. Properly using them would be key to keeping the town. Earlier in the day, he’d walked around town with that idiot radioman Brown. They’d set lookouts in strategic locations throughout the downtown. Tall buildings, the church steeple—all designed to give him early warning when the cops arrived. If they spotted the pigs far enough out, he could plan a deadly trap.
More importantly, he prepared for his own possible escape. If things got too far out of control, he planned to leave. There was no way he would allow himself to be captured or killed by the pigs. He was done with prison.
The Boss picked up his dumbbells and started pumping. Working his biceps always calmed his nerves—except that one time. He had been curling some serious iron in the prison yard when one of the Mexicans would not shut the fuck up. On and on the man went, chattering away in Spanish or whatever the fuck they were talking in. The eighty-pound dumbbell crushed the man’s skull, finally silencing the yard once and for all, and killing any chance he had of convincing a parole board he was reformed. Small price to pay.
“Hey, Boss!”
Trasher’s voice interrupted the fond memory. He’d wanted to crush a few more skulls over the past day or two, but with his numbers dwindling, he resisted the urge.
“Everyone is where you want them to be. We pulled all the ammo and guns from the station and distributed them to the men. Everything except the guns you wanted,” said Trasher.
“Bring everything around back!”
Putting down the dumbbell, he knew he needed to be careful about what he told the men regarding the weapons he had saved. If the shit hit the fan and he needed to run, he planned to leave with a carload of firepower. By his estimation, the weapons and ammunition would be more valuable than food. He could start over and build an army from scratch. Real soldiers. Not these prison rejects.
“Put everything in the back of the black
SUV!” he shouted to Trasher and Linc.
“Damn, this shit is hot. I could use one of these semis,” said Linc, appraising one of the semiautomatic rifles.
“Hands off! All of that shit goes in the SUV!”
The two loaded the SUV until the back end of the vehicle sagged from the weight.
“What’re you planning on doing with all this?” asked Trasher.
“It’s strategy. We need to be ready for a second fight in a fallback location. These are the weapons we’ll use to rearm the troops,” said the Boss, trying to appear like a master strategist.
“Shit cool!” said Trasher, hitting Linc’s shoulder. “See, I told you the Boss knows what he’s doing! Shit cool, man. Shit cool!”
Satisfied that he had everything he needed to get out of town, all he needed to do now was wait. Picking up the dumbbells, he watched his arms as his numerous tattoos moved in pace with each pump.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Brown moved quickly through town. The whole morning had been spent with the Boss, looking for “sniper nests,” as the Boss put it. The Boss acted like he was some sort of military mastermind instead of a gangbanger like the rest of them. Having to pretend to support the Boss was getting old.
After the cops had easily defeated two attacks on that house on the trail, the Boss became convinced that it was only a matter of time before the cops moved on the town. Brown figured he was right. He also needed to be sure the cops won. Telling them where the snipers had been positioned would give the cops the advantage they needed.
Brown picked his way through the backyards. He carefully chose his path to stay out of the view of the New Order men. The last thing he needed was one of them catching him with Marta. Knocking on Marta’s back door, he waited for her to let him in. They had begun meeting almost every day. Being with Marta made Brown feel like a regular person again, not just an escaped convict.
“Brown! Hurry up before they see you,” said Marta when she opened the door.
“I brought you a couple of candy bars and half a bottle of water. It was all I could grab without looking suspicious.”
Taking the water first, Marta swallowed the bottle’s contents in nearly one gulp.
“Thank you!” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “What’s going on out there? The New Order guys have been moving around a lot.”
Sitting down at her kitchen table, he said, “They’re planning to stop an attack by the cops. Last night didn’t go well for them. Again. Only a handful of them returned from their little raid,” said Brown.
“Damn right! The cops are pushing back. Finally. I feel like we’ve been waiting forever. Last night I listened to the cops calling HQ. I couldn’t hear HQ, but I could hear Doris’s radio loud and clear.”
“You need to tell them the locations of the New Order men. The Boss has them hidden all over, waiting for them to push into town. They need to be warned, or they’ll get cut down before they ever make it inside the town.”
“Shit! Okay. I’ll do it tonight. I haven’t been saying anything on the radio, just listening. After the latest scare, I don’t want to be found out.”
“You won’t. I disabled the radio at the station. They aren’t hearing shit.”
“How did you manage that?”
“Just yanked out a few wires. They’re all too stupid to figure it out,” said Brown with a chuckle.
“Alright, I’ll radio Doris’s house tonight.”
“Here, I drew out a rough map of where the guys are hidden. Make sure they know.”
“Will do.”
Marta opened the wrapper of one of the candy bars and munched on it. Neither moved from the table or said anything. Brown knew he should leave; being gone for too long raised suspicions. However, he couldn’t seem to pull away. Being in Marta’s house evoked images of happy family meals, movies, bowls of popcorn and love. All things he’d given up when he started running with the wrong crowd. Regret over his past and hope for the future combined to form a potent sense of duty to protect Marta and the cops who would be fighting for their lives.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sam scrubbed his hands in the washbasin placed on top of Doris’s living room bureau. Looking around the room, he could hardly believe this was the same pleasant, cheery home he’d visited only a few days ago. Officers from Porter and Evansville came and went in a near constant buzz of activity. The injured and wounded lay on the couches or floor, waiting for assistance.
Two of the men were seriously injured. Sam had managed to remove a bullet from Deputy Sinclair’s shoulder. With a few days’ rest, the proper antibiotics and a generous amount of painkillers, Sinclair should be able to make a near full recovery. However, their current situation afforded none of those luxuries. Sinclair would be lucky if his wound did not get seriously infected.
“Can I get you more water?” asked Sam, changing the cool cloth on Sinclair’s forehead.
“No. I’m good.”
“You need to stay hydrated. How about just a little?”
Sam held the glass to the injured man and watched as he weakly sipped.
Turning to Jordan Avery, Sam said, “How’re you holding up?”
“I feel like a piece of Swiss cheese.”
“Here, these should help.” Sam held a glass of water for the man while he washed down the four aspirin he had offered.
Sam knew that aspirin was hardly enough to cut the pain, but it was all he had. Avery’s injuries were more substantial than he could handle with the limited resources at his disposal.
“Close your eyes. Try to get some rest,” he told the man, covering him with a blanket.
Avery was shivering in the stifling heat. Sam knew he needed to get the man to a hospital, or they would soon bury another Porter police officer. Voices from the kitchen drew Sam’s attention away from the men. Charlie, Dale Spencer and Mark were all sitting at the kitchen table, discussing the plans to push into Porter.
“My house is here. I hid my entire collection of weapons and ammo in a shallow cave right on my property,” said Charlie, pointing to a map. “I need to grab everything and then meet up with the veterans.”
“How long will it take you to get to your house on foot?” asked Spencer.
“At a good clip, not more than five to six hours. The tricky part will be carrying everything to their location. I have several heavy bags loaded with the weapons and ammo. I can barely carry one bag myself, let alone the rest of them.”
Sam sat next to Mark at the kitchen table, surveying the map. “Where are the veterans?”
Pointing to the map, Spencer said, “They’re at a hunting lodge approximately here.”
“Looks like a full day hike to get from your house to the hunting lodge,” said Sam, turning to Charlie. “Maybe longer carrying one of those bags.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. I’ll have to spread the walk over two days.”
“You’ll need to avoid these areas,” said Sam, pointing to the map. “I recommend you make a wide arc around the town. It’ll add distance, but you should mostly avoid the New Order.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Mark, causing all of them to turn in his direction.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. I’m a veteran too. I need to be with those guys.”
“Thanks. I could sure use your help. We’ll leave before sunrise.”
Charlie and Mark left the table, heading outside with the others.
“Gotta sec?” Sam asked Spencer.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“We need to get Avery and Sinclair to a hospital. I managed to get the bullet and most of the fragments out of Sinclair’s shoulder, but Avery’s injuries are beyond my abilities. Both require immediate assistance.”
“How long do you think they can wait?”
“Avery needs to be seen now. Sinclair can likely wait until tomorrow. Possibly longer. But I would rather not chance it. If an infection sets in, he’s in serious trouble. W
hat’s the status of the Chase Memorial Hospital?”
“Last I heard, Memorial was being held by its security officers and a few cops. Apparently, the New Order tried to hit it right away, but they were held off and haven’t been back yet. The cops were able to secure the building fairly quickly. I think a family member of a Porter officer happened to be recovering at the hospital when the shit hit the fan. The first thing he did was hightail it to the hospital, lock it down and wait for the New Order. Without his efforts, the hospital would have been gutted. I think one or two other officers from Porter followed him, but I’m not sure.”
“We need to use a vehicle to get Avery and Sinclair to the hospital.”
“Okay, let me see what I can do. We have three cars, courtesy of the New Order. We might be able to drive them to the hospital and get back without being spotted. Last thing we want is more attention drawn to this location.”
“I’ll do what I can to prepare them for transport. It won’t be an easy ride for either of them,” said Sam, getting up from the table.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Marta paced the rooms of her dark house. The nights were the worst for her. She rationed her limited candles and batteries, allowing only the slightest light at night. Being alone in the dark with the New Order men roaming the streets terrified Marta. Bad things always seemed to happen at night. The guys would get drunk and rip people from their homes. Often the nights were filled with the screams of sorrow from her neighbors.
She had once loved her home. The lovingly restored old Victorian had been her home for more than twenty years. Lately, her home had become a prison. Venturing outside was not an option. She needed to stay hidden from the men. During the day, she chanced opening a few windows, but at night she shut the place tight, hoping to remain off their radar.
Walking the steps to the third floor, Marta wondered how much longer the radio’s battery would last. Turning the dials, the radio powered again. One of these days it wouldn’t. Relieved, Marta called out into the night.