The Fall (Book 3): War of the Living

by Guess, Joshua

  The huge field Kell's camp rested in was filled with people. It was rare to see them all in one place; even the outdoor theater only held a fraction of the populace. Now they spread out among the train of vans and cars, buses and sport utility vehicles. It was the only place in New Haven with enough empty space not occupied by crops, and the sight was staggering to behold.

  Every few minutes a vehicle would leave from the side gate, trundling down the road splitting the old parts of the settlement from the newer ones. The larger groups of refugees had guards to see them to the fallback areas, though even here the pragmatism which defined New Haven was clear. Smaller groups had no one but themselves for defense, purely a matter of math. There weren't enough free bodies to guard them all, so those who were available protected the largest number possible.

  Kell would have gone himself—wanted to—but once the order to evacuate had been given, there were too many other tasks to be seen to. If New Haven the place was to survive, it was going to take a lot of work and even more luck. Even with all the preparations, there was a high likelihood their home would fall when the enemy showed up at the gates.

  Teary-eyed families hugged as mothers and fathers separated from children. A great many of those families were not forged from blood, but from the fire of shared loss. Not far from where Kell stood, an Indian man kissed his wife as she took their adopted children away. The boy and girl must have been twins, and couldn't be older than six, both with vivid blue eyes and hair so blond it was almost white.

  If his time with Laura and the rest of his people taught Kell anything, it was that family wasn't dependent on genetics.

  Lee stood with him for nearly an hour, silently watching the people of New Haven leave through the gate like blood spurting from an artery. With every load of refugees, the life in the place dimmed a little.

  Laura eventually found them as they stood in the dying light. “Come on,” she said, beckoning them to follow. “Will wants to speak to us.”

  “You're here because each of you has a set of skills more useful than just pulling a trigger,” Will said to the twenty or so people gathered in front of his office door. “Some of you are especially good at moving around unseen. Others know the best ways to disable vehicles and weapons. We've asked your block captains to select people for this job, but it's voluntary. Mostly because it's going to be incredibly dangerous. If you aren't interested, leave now.”

  No one moved.

  “Good,” Will said. “I'm going to split you into teams, then give you your assignments.”

  The numbers weren't evenly split, as one might have expected. Instead, each group was weighed based on talents and skills versus the type of job. Will made no special effort to let the other groups hear what was being said, but neither did he try to keep it secret. Two teams of five were supposed to hit vehicles and weapons, with the sole purpose of sabotage. Another team of four was set to do some kind of recon—Kate was assigned to lead that group.

  Kell couldn't hear what the other group of three was supposed to do, but when Will came to his group—himself, Lee, and Laura—at last, he had some idea of what to expect.

  “I'd like the three of you to be my floaters,” Will said. “I need people to fit in wherever there are holes. I might need you to run between here and the fallback points, cover a retreat, maybe do some scouting. Basically I want the three of you as my personal team.”

  “That's flattering,” Kell said.

  Will smiled tightly. “You're all trustworthy. You can fight, and you won't take stupid risks. I'm having another one of these meetings in a few minutes. Hopefully I'll manage to find another couple people I can say the same about, but I'm not holding my breath.” His tired eyes met Kell's. “What do you say?”

  “Of course,” Kell said. “You've done more for me than I can ever repay.”

  Lee shrugged. “I go where he goes,” he said simply.

  “I'll keep these two out of trouble,” Laura said with a smirk.

  “Good,” Will said, smiling faintly. “I'll want you here early tomorrow. No telling what kinds of problems the evacuation will throw at us.”

  The next group of people began to filter in. Kell motioned Lee and Laura to follow him. As they made their way back to camp, he couldn't help noticing the difference in his adopted home. The essence of the place had always been a strange mixture of disciplined, almost militaristic wariness and a casual acceptance of the world as it was. People didn't find it odd to lean over fences to gossip with assault rifles slung over shoulders.

  That delicate balance was gone. The people were either in their homes, preparing to leave, or already at the evacuation site. The few who remained were either guards running to their places on the walls or workers passing messages. Otherwise, the streets and yards were empty. The vibrant personality of New Haven was, if not dead, paused and something of an endangered species.

  It pissed Kell off.

  “How much of Will's game plan have you seen, Lee?” Kell asked as they ambled into camp. “You seem to think we don't have much of a chance. I'd like to hear why.”

  Lee stepped onto the bench of the picnic table and spun, sitting on the tabletop. “You reconsidering? Thinking about leaving?”

  “No,” Kell said, “but that doesn't mean I don't want your take on what we're up against. You know your business.”

  Lee eyed Laura, whose mouth twitched at one corner. “Don't look at me. I'll give him my opinion on my own time. You're on your own.”

  “It's not so much I think we'll lose,” Lee began. “It just looks like no matter what happens, New Haven isn't walking away without heavy losses. Chances are good we'll be killed if we're in the fight.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, thoughtful. “Though I admit I don't know half of what Will has planned.”

  “Most people don't,” Laura chimed in. “Other than the council and senior defense staff. Oh, and the people who helped craft the attack plan, of course. Those people know what's up.”

  “I don't suppose you know anyone who was consulted on those plans, do you?” Kell asked, though he already knew the answer.

  Laura grinned.

  Though they had to be up early, they talked all night.

  Nineteen

  If Lee wasn't entirely convinced the next morning as they set out to Will's office, he was at least more thoughtful of the facts Laura presented the night before. Kell had known much of what was planned, but hadn't been clear on the scale of the defenses. Which was saying something, considering he had been working on parts of them off and on for months.

  The evacuation point was filled with an endless throng of people, bodies spilling over into yards and campsites as the shuffle toward freedom ground forward. It was just the opposite once they made it through the inner gate and into the central section. The emptiness from the night before was, if anything, more profound in the harsh light of day.

  Will was still wearing the same clothes from the night before, wrinkled and obviously slept in. He looked slightly better, more rested. Nothing about his body language said anything about being tired or unsure as they approached. He was the eye of the storm, people swirling around him chaotically as he calmly answered questions and gave assignments.

  They approached the folding table Will worked from, Laura leading them back and to the side. They waited close enough to be at hand should Will need them for anything, but out of the way.

  It was nearly a quarter hour before the flurry of activity began to slow, and as long again before Will was able to go longer than ten seconds without issuing an order or being given a report to look over.

  His time working with the records had given Kell a broad intellectual understanding of how New Haven was organized, how the pieces and parts of the machine were oiled and fit together. Most of his practical experience was either of the everyday variety or one-on-one, however. It was easy to think he understood how well these people worked together and what their shared purpose could achieve.

  Watching W
ill interact with section leaders—many of them part of the council—made him understand how narrow his understanding had been. He had seen the everyday, certainly, and every argument and act of political maneuvering that came with it. The unifying power of a threat, seen in miniature for short times during zombie attacks, was on full display now. No one argued tiny details. No one raised their voice.

  Every person in New Haven was a survivor, with enough death and destruction behind them to make any ancient conqueror green with envy. That common thread ran through all of them, pulled them together. In the face of losing all they had built together, or worse, the lives of the citizens they served, there was no room for ego.

  The illusion held right until one of the council members slapped a hand down onto the table as he spoke with Will, arguing loudly about needing more people to help pack food. Kell stepped forward without conscious thought, looming over Will's shoulder as his shadow covered both men. It was a reaction born solely from experience, an instinctive response to even the hint of danger.

  The councilor blanched when he looked up at Kell, the wind knocked squarely out of his sails.

  “I'll see what I can do,” Will told the beefy man. “Please keep in mind we're stretched thin, though.”

  The other man nodded curtly, and with another nervous glance at Kell, scuttled away.

  Will smiled wolfishly. “You're handy to have around.”

  Kell's face heated up. “I just reacted. I wasn't going to do anything.” He thought for a second. “Unless he actually hit you. Then I'd have beat the brakes off him.”

  Will laughed, shaking his head. “You've been around here too long. You're picking up all the worst slang.” Straightening papers, he nodded toward the councilor's dwindling form. “It wasn't that he was scared. You just reminded him there are consequences to acting like a child. Especially because the charter gives me absolute authority in times of war.”

  “Do you have anything for us to do?” Kell asked before anyone else could step forward and interrupt.

  Will flipped through several files before pulling out one with a piece of red tape folded neatly over the edge. He handed it to Kell. “I hate to do this to you, especially as your first job, but I need the three of you to go lend a hand to one of our scout patrols.”

  Kell frowned. “What's the problem?”

  Will nodded toward the folder. “The details are in there, and a map with directions. Follow them very carefully, you'll be heading toward the enemy.”

  Kell drove the armored car as Laura read the file out loud and Lee kept watch.

  “It says here we're heading to an observation post,” Laura said. “There are a bunch of bottlenecks between them and us, and this place is the farthest one from home.”

  “What do they need us for?” Lee asked, not taking his eyes from their endless sweep of the road and surrounding woods.

  “Looks like...huh. They're a four-man team. Two to stay at the post while the other pair does a sweep,” Laura said. “The team was supposed to come back last night but didn't show, so this morning one of the two remaining scouts came home to get some help.”

  “Are we supposed to stay out there?” Kell asked with a frown.

  “I don't think so,” she said. “Two of us will man the observation platform, the other will help them search. Says they're only allowed two hours to look once we get there, then we all pull out.”

  “Why?” Kell asked. “Don't we need people there to keep an eye out?”

  “Sure,” Lee said, “but if the enemy is that close, we don't want to risk losing more people when we already know where they are.”

  The observation post was just over halfway between New Haven and where the enemy had come to a halt as they organized their forces. Even so far away, Kell was careful to stick to the winding back roads outlined in their directions, the route cut off from any road the UAS could take from their direction.

  Their destination appeared, an enormous water tower sitting atop a wooded hill. Kell drove to the base of the hill and waited, as the instructions told him to. He had barely settled against the car when a figure in dark clothing appeared, slipping under a partially damaged section of the chain-link fence surrounding the tower's base.

  “Juel,” Kell said as the scout drew close. “I didn't know it was you out here.”

  She gave him a thin smile. “Didn't know you'd be the one coming to give us a hand.” She glanced at Lee and Laura, who were pulling their weapons from the rear of the car. “Those two can shoot, huh? They'll need to stay here, then.”

  “Why?” Kell asked. “I don't care to go with you, but I can watch just as well as they can.”

  Juel brushed a hand through her short hair. “We're not just watching. It's blocked off from this direction so the UAS can't use the road you came in on, but on the other side of the hill is the main road we're funneling them onto. We've been picking off their scouts. That's why we need people here who can shoot well.”

  “Fine,” Kell agreed. “We should go. We're on a tight schedule.”

  They pulled away, Kell on the back of Juel's motorcycle. The other scout peeled off immediately as they moved west, taking the first fork in the road and disappearing from sight. Juel shouted over the bike's roar that her partner would run ahead to make sure no enemies were waiting in ambush.

  They stopped ten miles from the water tower and switched to a car. It was relatively new, probably bought just before The Fall, but worn and weathered by years of exposure. There were several vehicles lined up in the small parking lot Juel took them to, and a collection of fuel cans. Kell couldn't help smiling at how prepared they were.

  The next twenty-five minutes were the most terrifying of Kell's life, including the fall of civilization and the struggle to survive. Juel didn't seem to have a lead foot so much as a foot made of matter from a neutron star; she drove at speeds Burt Reynolds would never have dared on his best day as The Bandit.

  She mostly followed the main road, though the occasional marker left by the other scouts forced her to slow enough to change course. The orange symbols, mostly splashed on tree trunks, always led them back to the central road they used to approach the UAS camp.

  The car slowed suddenly, throwing Kell forward in his seat. They rolled to a stop a few dozen yards from a pair of old oaks covered in orange symbols.

  “What does it say?” Kell asked.

  Juel's mouth was set in a hard line. “Car trouble,” she said. “They must have pushed it off the road and hidden it. That's the protocol. They went ahead to our watch post and will wait for a team to show up. That's also protocol.”

  “Then what's the matter?” Kell asked.

  Juel huffed out a sharp breath. “The reason we don't stay at the watch post is because it's right next to the UAS camp. If they're seen...”

  If they were seen, they would almost certainly be captured. Which would lead to interrogation and give the enemy a heads up about what sort of defenses and resistance they might face.

  “What do you want to do?” Kell asked. He let the question hang between them. He had worked with Juel before. She was smart enough to know what he was asking.

  “We go after them,” she said. “Either they're where they should be, and we bring them home, or they're already caught and there's nothing we can do.”

  Except, Kell thought, maybe get captured ourselves.

  They were less than two miles away from the post, but they crept along slowly. Kell didn't fancy trying to fight men armed with guns who outnumbered them thousands to one, and though neither of them said as much out loud, he was certain Juel would also refuse to be taken alive.

  Though from where he sat, it didn't look like it would come to that.

  The road was mostly flat, if winding, situated against the edge of a long wooded ridge. Juel told him the camp was on the other side of it, spread out and distant enough that the car shouldn't be heard. The trees were sparse, only growing in any density in spaced-out clumps. Ragged sections of e
xposed rock jutted out in irregular intervals, relics of the blasting which made the road possible.

  There was no sign of any enemy soldiers. The absence might only mean they were better at hiding than Kell was at seeing them, but he grasped onto that thread of hope and refused to let it go.

  Kell McDonald, optimist. Who would have guessed?

  Juel rolled to a stop a hundred yards from a tight curve in the road, made necessary by an equally tight curve in the ridge it followed. At the peak sat a copse of trees, branches weaving so close together he would have missed the squat building nestled beneath them had he not been looking for it.

  “Is that it?”

  Juel nodded. “Yeah. It's an old weather station. You can't see it at all from the other side unless you're right in front of it. The angle of the hill and all the brush make the thing almost invisible.”

  They got out of the car and approached the building from the rear, side-stepping up the ridge with extreme caution. Kell used his spear as a walking stick, making sure not to put his weight on anything other than grass. The low hum of the car's engine might fade into the background noise, but knocking a thirty pound rock down a steep incline dotted with more rocks was an invitation to be killed.

  Kell kept low as he approached the tiny building, spear held loosely in both hands. Juel stayed in front and on his right. Their footfalls were silent, but when Juel reached the closed door, she knocked in a pattern to identify herself.

  She glanced back at Kell, frowning. He nodded for her to go forward.

  His fingers tightened on the spear, the rubberized pads of his gloves squeaking faintly against the metal. Pulse racing, Kell prepared himself to move as Juel stepped across the door while turning the handle, putting herself out of his line of attack while still maintaining her own.

  Light flooded the small room, revealing two bodies.

  Two sleeping bodies.