by Nathan Jones
As he finished slowly counting down bodies surged towards him through the darkness, surprisingly not just from his camp but from the volunteer camps nearby. Trev led the way with his flashlight at a run, heading towards the nearby hillside and leaving the chaos among the tents behind.
There were still people scrambling around shouting in panic back there, and somewhere off ahead of him and to his left he heard Davis shouting evacuation orders through the bullhorn. But all the confused noises and sights faded to the background as Trev finally heard the dreaded sound: the thumping of a helicopter somewhere up above.
He'd gone barely a dozen feet up the slope when twin streaks lit up the sky, heading for the camp. Trev tried to call an order to get down, but it became an incoherent shout as he suited his own words, diving behind the nearest source of cover in a stand of scraggly trees.
The darkness exploded into brilliant white behind him, quickly replaced by the lurid reddish glow of fires. The panicked shouts became screams, some terrified but many pained. Trev lifted his head to peer through the undergrowth.
The command tent, mess tent, and the Marines' sleeping tent were all burning bright, highlighting the dark silhouettes of people bolting in every direction towards the closest edges of the camp. Some made it before the approaching helicopter opened up with its heavy machine gun.
A hail of bullets peppered with tracers arced down, cutting a swath through the civilian camp before moving on to where the new volunteers had set up their tents. The line sheared through tents like wet paper and cut through several fleeing figures, adding to the screams of pain.
Davis was shouting through his bullhorn again, struggling to be heard over the din. “Take it down! Somebody take it down!”
Either in response to the order or due to good timing, a streak of fire abruptly lanced up at the sky from just outside the Aspen Hill camp. Gutierrez? The missile intersected the line of bullets piercing down towards camp and exploded brilliantly, briefly illuminating the dark shape of the helicopter as it broke off its attack and banked away, heading north.
It might've been backing away for another missile attack, but even if it really was leaving for good it had caused enough devastation already. All in under a minute.
Trev pushed himself shakily to his feet, looking around with the flashlight. Dozens of pale, frightened faces looked back at him from the darkness. He didn't see all of his squad mates, but from the looks of it Matt's squad was gathered a bit closer to their camp, near where Gutierrez had fired the missile. Maybe they were with him.
Time to sort out the confusion as best he could. “Everyone to me!” he shouted. “Gather in squads and report anyone who's missing. Once we're sure the chopper isn't coming back we're returning to camp to find our people. Then we'll help out however we're needed.”
* * * * *
Lewis jolted awake to shouted warnings from the camp outside.
Jane woke up at about the same time, and for a frantic few moments they wrestled to extricate themselves from their zipped together sleeping bags. Once free his wife went for her clothes, while he grabbed his night vision gear and crawled outside in just his boxers.
All those nights sleeping in his combat fatigues captured from the raiders, sometimes even in the body armor as well if he expected trouble. And always with his other gear neatly set aside so he could throw it on fast. Why did he choose tonight as the one to be caught with his pants down?
The camp was a confusion of defenders running around, a few shouting into their radios. “What's going on?” he demanded. He wasn't the only one shouting that.
Ten feet away Carl briefly lowered his radio to look at him. “We got a warning from the military. A helicopter's headed our way fast from the south.”
Lewis felt his blood run cold. “Then why are we all still in this camp?” He raised his voice. “Everyone out! Make for the nearest cover!”
Ignoring his own advice, he ran for where they'd stowed the missile launchers after yesterday's attack. Getting away from camp was a priority, but if the blockheads were sending an attack helicopter his way he wanted to be able to defend himself.
Tam seemed to have had the same idea. She already had a missile loaded in one of the launchers, and was struggling to lift the nearly 70lbs of weight to sling on her back.
“Here,” Lewis said, taking it from her and slinging it on his own back. The metal was cold against his bare skin, and there was an uncomfortable sharp edge he hadn't noticed when carrying the thing with his clothes and body armor on.
Carl had followed him, and with his wife's help the man got the other launcher loaded and slung. Jane joined them too, in her shoes without socks and her uniform shirt unbuttoned, but with effort carrying their radios, both their rifles, and their combat vests in her arms or slung on her back. “I didn't think to bring your clothes,” she said apologetically.
“I can stand to lose those,” he said, taking his gear from her. Then with a curt gesture to follow he turned and bolted from camp, shouting again. “Everyone into the trees, now!”
He could hear the thudding rumble of the approaching chopper as they ran out from between the tents, bolting towards the cover along the canyon stream. Rocks underfoot cut and bruised his bare feet, but he didn't let that slow him down.
He seriously hoped the helicopter didn't have some sort of heat sensing gear. Just in case it did, he had everyone that was gathering to him in the trees spread out at least ten feet apart. Especially Carl with the other missile launcher. At the same time he verified that everyone who'd been in camp had made it out, including his dad and uncle.
Jane refused to leave his side, even ten feet. “We'll both get blown up either way,” she pointed out. Lewis wanted to argue that that was a good reason to spread out even more. But honestly whether they were in huge trouble or not depended on what the enemy had, not on how well they hid.
As the aircraft continued to approach he set the missile launcher down long enough to put on his combat vest and radio headset, then lifted the heavy tube to his shoulder. Jane had a night vision scope and was already peering into the sky to the south. “Give me a target,” he whispered. She nodded.
But there was was no target for her to give. As best he could tell the helicopter flew by miles to the west of them. He saw two bright streaks of missiles arcing down from the sky, heard the distant thunderclap of explosions, and felt his gut clench wondering what they were shooting at. His family, huddled in the relocated refuge? Better if the enemy had come for his camp instead.
After that one volley the enemy aircraft kept on going north out of sight.
As the thudding noise of its rotors faded his radio crackled. “Refuge to defender camp,” Chauncey said, sounding on the verge of panic. “Are you guys okay?”
Lewis lowered the missile launcher to the ground and thumbed his mic. “We're fine. They flew right past us.”
“Wish I could say the same. They lit us up.”
He felt his blood run cold. He'd been afraid of that ever since he saw those missiles shooting down. “I thought we'd finished breaking camp and moving everyone into the trees.”
“Not the trucks. Can't really hide those on a forested slope, so we had them parked on the canyon road close by. The blockheads demolished them.”
Although it was a huge relief to hear that no one had been hurt, this was terrible news. They depended on those trucks if things went wrong and they had to move people fast. “What did we lose?”
There was a short pause. “Well the good news is that our Mayor responded quickly. When the warning came she managed to get some people to the truck with the mounted M2 and drove it to safety. Unfortunately that meant there were half a dozen townspeople around the other trucks when the missile strike came. Three were killed instantly, and Terry's seeing to the others. It's not looking good, though. As for the trucks, we'll be lucky if we can cobble one together from the spare parts of all the wreckages. If not we're down to one vehicle, although thankfully we were s
toring the fuel separately.”
Lewis grit his teeth. This attack was probably a direct retaliation for his raid on the shelter and yesterday's missile attack. Those lives were on his head. “The helicopter came from the south, not the east. Any news from Davis or the other military units?”
“Just jumbled confusion. I can confirm there was an attack along Highway 31, and from the sounds of things it might still be going on. There's some talk of ground troops gathering at the mouth of the canyon down there.”
So it wasn't just the townspeople he had to worry about. If the chopper had swooped in and hit Davis's camp like it hit the town's trucks then Trev, Matt, and the others might've been caught in the middle of it. And a ground attack meant they might be fighting for their lives right now in nighttime conditions.
Unfortunately he didn't have time to worry about that. “Do you have everything covered at the refuge?” he asked. “I want to get my defenders out patrolling in case we see a ground attack up here, too.”
“Probably a good idea. We'll drive the remaining truck over to you so you've got the M2 in case you need it. Although it would be nice if you could find a hiding spot for it in case the chopper comes back.”
The only good hiding spot was in the canyon itself, but that was probably okay. “Thanks, Chauncey.” He paused briefly before continuing in a brisk tone. “All night sentries, what do you see? Are the blockheads down below doing anything?”
His people hiding in the trees had begun to gather around him now that they couldn't hear the noise of the chopper anymore. With the danger past Lewis felt a brief moment of embarrassment about being in just his boxers and a combat vest. He probably looked ridiculous.
There was a crackle and Martin Colton responded. “It all looks quiet down there, although it's a bit hard to tell for sure even with night vision.”
“Do your best.” Lewis turned to his people. “Ten minutes to get dressed and sorted out,” he said, crouching to pick up his rifle and the missile launcher. Once he had them he started limping back through the trees in the direction of camp. “Then we're all out there on the slopes watching.”
Nobody so much as uttered a single word of complaint as they followed.
Chapter Five
Blind Man's Buff
“I can't believe I missed again,” Gutierrez grumbled for what seemed like the tenth time.
Matt ignored the former soldier and kept shouting orders. His first priority was to get all his people gathered together and make sure everyone was accounted for. Once they'd done that they could focus on putting out fires and finding and tending to wounded. Whatever they were able to do.
From the looks of it Trev had managed to get quite a few people out just before the attack. His friend had wisely decided to bolt immediately with anyone willing to follow, rather than gather as many people as possible only ten or so feet from their camp, then try to organize things there like Matt had done. Matt sent Scott out to get that group and bring them back.
In the meantime he wanted everyone to get their night vision gear. The flickering light of the burning tents was already starting to die, and once it was gone they'd be fumbling around in the dark without the gear. It was also a good opportunity for those who'd run out in their underwear, or even in the altogether, to put on some clothes and more importantly shoes so they didn't injure their feet.
The confusion ratcheted up a notch as Trev and the people he'd been leading arrived. Matt nodded at his friend as he came over to stand beside him. “The chopper went north,” Trev said quietly.
“I know.”
Before Matt could say more Davis trotted up to them, rifle slung over one shoulder and bullhorn tucked under one arm. “Good, you're getting your people together,” he barked. “The sooner the better. You're one of the few groups not running around like chickens with their heads cut off, and I'm going to need your help sorting out this mess.” His eyes narrowed as he looked over the group. “Anyone hurt here?”
“No,” Matt replied. He saw that the sergeant was wearing his radio's earbuds. Matt's own were tucked in a pocket; he knew he should probably be wearing them, but the chaos was overwhelming enough without the jumble of voices clogging the airwaves. He'd taken them off a few minutes ago just so he could hear himself think.
Still, Davis was probably on top of that mess. “The chopper was headed north, towards our people,” Matt said, half a question.
The sergeant nodded, a bit impatiently. “One of the first things I did once it left, even before it left, was radio out to everyone in the area. If any of your friend Halsson's people were awake they got the warning.”
That was one weight off his shoulders, although he wouldn't be perfectly at ease until he heard directly from Chauncey that Sam and the rest of his family were safe. “What about our supplies?”
“Most were in the trucks,” Davis replied, spitting off to the side. Matt felt his heart momentarily stop, since the chopper would've definitely targeted the vehicles first, until the sergeant continued. “The moment I got warning of the attack I sent the night sentries hauling butt up Highway 31 in them. The chopper missed them when it headed north and they're completely intact.”
His shoulders loosened. “That's a relief. So if most people managed to evacuate the camp in time, that means we just lost the tents?”
“They still had plenty of stuff in them, and you saw what the machine gun did to people too slow to get out in time.” Davis glared at the smoldering tents as if they were a personal insult. “What a mess. Our antitank missiles just aren't cutting it. I should've asked for some Stingers after this chopper buzzed us the first time.”
Matt blinked. “Stingers?”
“SAMs.” At his blank look the sergeant made an impatient noise. “Surface-to-air missiles. MANPADS that use heat sensors. Our current two launchers shoot antitank missiles using a wire-guided system. Did you seriously not know what kind of missiles you brought with you?”
“I knew they were TOWs,” Matt said, hunching his shoulders in slight embarrassment.
Davis sighed. “Well that's something. Anyway Command thought we'd get more use out of what they gave us, since the blockheads don't have many aircraft. You saw the tanks rolling into Huntington, and I'm guessing our missiles are the only reason they're not shelling us day and night. But it looks like this chopper's got our number, and no offense to your man Gutierrez but he needs to stop wasting missiles if he can't hit the broad side of a barn.” The Marine shook his head and swore. “Either way we're going to have to move our camp into cover, under the trees or in cave systems if any are handy.”
“I don't know of any caves nearby,” Trev said.
The sergeant curtly waved for him to be quiet, cocking his head as if listening. To his radio, Matt realized. The Marine abruptly stiffened and speared them with an urgent glare. “Forget the chopper for now, and even helping out in camp. You've got your people organized so you need to get them to the emplacements guarding the canyon.”
Matt felt his blood run cold. “Are you saying-”
Davis nodded. “The helicopter was just the first strike. The blockheads have been gathering up hundreds of soldiers in the valley nearby, and they just started coming our way. They'll be here within minutes . . . not only up the canyon but up the surrounding slopes too.”
“We're on our way.” Matt turned to the gathered crowd, not just the two Aspen Hill squads but dozens of volunteers. “Everyone who doesn't have your weapons, go get them! We're about to come under attack. You've got one minute and then we're moving!”
A dozen or so people bolted away. Matt turned to Trev. “Get your squad and half these volunteers to the emplacements on the canyon's northern slope. I'll get the southern slope.”
His friend nodded. “What about Davis's Marines and the rest of the volunteers?”
The sergeant answered for Matt. “Dividing this group like that should work well. I'll radio in and let the sentries already in the emplacements know you're coming, and to
be ready for more reinforcements coming behind. Mostly volunteers, I'd say; I want to have my Marines on the slopes picking off any blockheads trying to sneak up and flank us.”
“All right.” Trev turned and shouted out a couple names. “You two squad leaders, get your people together and follow me. Move, move, move!” He broke into a trot towards the northern slope, his squad following close behind. After a bit of confusion and shouting a couple dozen volunteers ran to catch up.
Davis ran off as well, going back to calling orders through his bullhorn. One of which was to Matt, through the loudspeaker. “. . . and use your radio so I don't have to run up and shout in your ear next time!”
Matt hastily put in his earbuds, then turned to Gutierrez, who was scowling after the sergeant. “Can't hit the broad side of a barn, huh?” the former soldier muttered resentfully.
He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “You heard what Davis said. Trying to hit a helicopter with that thing isn't easy even for a pro. Besides, you're still our best shot with it. Keep it close, we'll probably be using it soon.”
Gutierrez nodded and motioned to Stuart, who Matt had assigned to carry a few spare missiles along with his other gear. It was a manageable burden for him, since he was easily the strongest man on the squad. He also spotted for the former soldier when it came time to shoot some of those missiles, although he hadn't really had a chance to perform that role yet.
It only took a couple minutes for the volunteers to return with their weapons. During that time Matt made sure his people grabbed all the extra ammunition and magazines they could carry, since it was good odds the new recruits would forget.
A few people still hadn't returned when Matt decided they'd waited too long. He called the order and started at a trot towards the southern slope, listening to the sounds of everyone falling in behind him.