It wasn’t easy to prepare over eight hundred people for a sudden evacuation and we were forced to concentrate on big ticket items like transport, food, and weapons. We had to trust individuals would be able select the few belongings they would be able to carry carefully. Not that anyone had a lot anyway. Compared to the ‘before days’, nearly all of us lived in poverty — that’s if you were talking in materialistic terms. Personally, I thought we were better off than a lot of people before the invasion.
As the sun began to set that evening, everything was in place.
“Man, I didn’t think we’d get there, but I think we’re actually good to go,” said Luke as we stood on the verandah drinking a blackberry tea Brooke had brewed for us. It was bitter but palatable.
“Yeah, everyone pulled together really well. I think we should double the guard on the wall tonight. Just in case.”
“Agreed. By the way, I had a couple of people working on something. I didn’t run it by you because I thought you’d be okay with it.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I’ve booby-trapped the old bus we blocked the breach with.”
“Booby-trapped how, Luke?”
“Well, I kinda made it into a bomb.”
“What? Is it safe? We have to go through that gate tomorrow.”
“Yes, it’s safe,” he laughed. “I haven’t armed it. I won’t do that until everyone else is through the gate. It will be on a hair trigger though; a nice surprise for those assholes when they come back.”
“What the hell did you make a bomb out of?”
“Lots of stuff,” he shrugged. “Stuff we won’t be taking anyway. Fertilizer, chlorine, spare car batteries, that kind of stuff.”
“How did you — wait. Do I want to know?”
“Ingenuity, dude, and a good memory for stuff I looked up as a bored kid. Damn, I miss Google!”
“You looked up bomb-making on Google? You’re lucky Homeland Security didn’t tap your ass!”
He shrugged. “Maybe they did?”
“You didn’t build one, did you?”
“Are you asking if I was planning a terrorist attack or something?” he smiled.
“No, of course not,” I said, raising my eyebrows.
“I was just curious and into science, dude. It’s pretty basic stuff though. Lucky most suicide bombers weren’t exactly geniuses.”
“Suicide bombers?” asked Brooke as she came outside to tell us dinner was ready. “What are you two talking about?”
“Nothing, my sexy, British babe,” said Luke, turning Brooke around and encircling her and her belly with his long arms.
“Better be nothing dangerous,” she said, turning her head and pecking him on the cheek. “I want this baby to have a daddy, no matter how silly he is.”
He winked at me as we started into the house, still hugging.
“Brookster, when have you ever known me to do anything dangerous?”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll keep an eye on him for you.”
Luke released Brooke just before they went through the door.
“Oh wait! I had something else to show you, Isaac. Babe, we’ll just be a few seconds.”
“Fine. Hurry up, though. It’ll get cold!”
“Cool,” he said and put his arm over my shoulders, directing me back down the stairs. “I’ve had some of the kids working on something.”
He led me down the stairs and around the side of the house to a stack of something I couldn’t quite make out in the dim light until we were closer. They were cutouts. Life-size cutouts in the shape of crouching and standing forms. They were even painted so it looked like they were clothed.
“What do you think? We had to scrape and scrounge for materials, but we got eight finished.”
“What are they for?”
“Decoys! Before we head out, we’ll position them so they are within sight of the road. They might not be ultra-convincing in full daylight, but hopefully they will make them think we’re still here. If they come in the dark, there is a good chance it will fool them. I want them coming through that gate with all guns blazing.”
I shook my head in wonder. “Where the hell do you get these ideas from?”
“Oh, this idea? It’s nothing,” he said. “I got it from the Ghost Army.”
I waited but, of course, he was in ‘wise one’ mode and expected me to ask first.
“Okay, I give up. What is the Ghost Army?”
“Dude, I thought you’d never ask,” he laughed. “It was a tactical deception unit the U.S. army had during WW2. They would do things to trick the enemy, like use inflatable tanks and planes to fool the Germans into believing there was a large force in a particular area, when it was really just a few guys with air compressors and dummies.”
I looked at him and nodded, a small smile on my face.
“What?” he asked.
“You know how I’ve been writing the story of how all of this has happened to us? Well, I think you should start writing a history book of all the weird shit you remember that wasn’t even in the history books.”
He laughed.
“Dude, it was in the history books; you just weren’t reading the right ones. What do you think though?” he asked, gesturing at the cutouts.
“I think it’s an awesome idea. Come on, let’s go eat. We need to feed that big brain of yours.”
We ate a light meal that night as the bulk of the food had been packed into the vehicles. There was quiet talk, but the mood was mostly subdued given that it was our final night in the home we had made for ourselves five years before. We had finished eating and seemed to all be waiting for someone to make the first move to retire for the evening when Ben jumped from the table and told us all to wait right there.
He returned carrying a cardboard box and wearing a big smile. We all craned our necks to see what was inside.
“Nuh uh, no peeking,” he said, putting his arm over the top protectively. He looked at Brooke and smiled. “Now, I was saving this for the birth of my nephew ... or niece, but I figure because this is our ‘last supper’ in the Valley, we ought to celebrate.”
He produced a dusty bottle and with a flourish showed us the label. I knew the name, Dom Perignon. I knew it was a fancy champagne, but most of the others just looked blankly at him. I guess they knew it was alcohol of some kind, but perhaps not its significance in the before days.
We had an unwritten rule that alcohol wasn’t allowed anywhere in the Valley. Less than six months before, we had banished a boy for fighting after he had gotten drunk on a six pack of beer he had brought back from a scouting mission.
“It’s champagne, people!”
Allie and Ava both wore scandalized looks when they realized it was alcohol.
“You’re supposed to look happy, not worried. Don’t panic, you won’t get more than a mouthful each anyway.”
Despite his reassurance, both girls looked to Indigo, who nodded.
“It’s okay.”
Ben proceeded to pull out a variety of mugs and cups of all shapes and sizes and poured all of us a small portion each.
“Sorry, Sis. In your condition, you can’t have any. I’ll have your share.”
Allie raised a chipped coffee cup to her lips.
“Don’t drink it yet!” he yelled.
Allie jumped, almost spilling the precious liquid. Brooke rolled her eyes at her brother as the chastened girl lowered her mug.
“Don’t be so bossy, Ben.”
“Sorry Allie ... anyway, charge your glasses!” he said, raising his tumbler.
I watched Brooke raise her glass of water and we all followed suit.
“Here’s to our five glorious years in the Valley. May our next home be as wonderful to us. Cheers!”
“Cheers!” we all replied.
“Yuck!” said Ava, making a face after a tentative sip.
“I agree,” said Allie, laughing after spitting her mouthful back into the cup.
“Savag
es!” Ben mocked.
We all laughed. I didn’t mind the taste. It was kind of bitter, but it had been a long time since I drank something with bubbles in it.
The mood got a little more upbeat after that. Allie and Ava both finished their cups after some encouragement and seemed to get tipsy on the tiny nip they were given. For that matter, so did Luke. He ended up having Brooke’s portion and also Danny’s. The smaller boy couldn’t be swayed to drink his after his first face-crumpling sip.
“My turn to unveil a surprise,” said Luke, disappearing upstairs before anyone could ask. When he came back down, he almost tripped on the last step and both Allie and Ava fell into hysterics as he caught himself.
“What have you got there?” asked Brooke, smiling.
“You’ll see,” he said, mysteriously.
I could see it was a red plastic box about the size of a briefcase. He went to the small coffee table in the corner and sat it down, opening the lid. It was an old portable turntable. A record player.
“What is it?” asked Ava, walking over to him.
“This is what they used to play music on. Think of it as an old-fashioned iPod.”
“Really?”
“No,” he laughed. “It’s better than any iPod ever invented.”
He flicked a switch on the side. I heard the built-in speakers crackle to life as he lifted the arm and moved the needle over and onto the black disc spinning on the platen.
There were a few crackles and pops and then a repetitive electronic beat began pumping through the tinny sounding speakers. Luke stepped backwards in time with the music, nodding his head in small jerky movements as the beat grew louder.
Ava squealed, laughing when he grabbed her by the hand and swung her to face him, and then he was off, dancing in a hilarious dad fashion as a voice began to sing, “she was born to be ... alive, she was born to be ... alive ... ”.
We laughed at Luke and screamed encouragement to Ava as she began to try and emulate his moves.
“Come on!” Luke called to us over the music, and suddenly Indigo was dragging me into the center of the room, holding little Maxie in the crook of her arm.
Pretty soon we were all up there, the very pregnant Brooke included, laughing, screaming, and dancing by candlelight to that dorky but infectious disco beat, forgetting for a time where we were and where we were heading.
Luke must have played that damn song five times in a row (it was the only record he had managed to find) before, thankfully, the batteries began to die, and the artist’s voice slowed to an unbearable, horror movie-like drawl.
After the old record player died, we sat around and reminisced for about an hour. We recalled the happy moments rather than the more recent problems and when Indigo and I went to back to our bedroom with Max, I was feeling excited and optimistic about our immediate future. There was also worry, of course, but it had been pushed into the background by the fun that evening.
Indigo had already packed, so after she put Max to bed, there was little to do except go to sleep.
“Good night. I love you, Isaac Race,” Indigo whispered, kissing me goodnight.
“I love you, too,” I said. We held each other as we went to sleep. It was our last night in the farmhouse; who knew when we would next sleep in a bed?
24
I awoke to the insistent honking of a horn. I sat up, my head sleep-addled. It was coming from the direction of the gate. An engine was approaching the house at speed and I jumped out of bed, snatching my pistol from the bedside table and running out of the room and down the stairs two at a time, barefoot and in my shorts and t-shirt.
“What’s going on?” Luke yelled, thundering down the stairs behind me.
“I don’t know!” I said, over my shoulder, as headlights lit up the front windows.
With my heart beating furiously, I pulled the door open and ran down the steps as the Jeep from the gate pulled to a stop in a spray of gravel. An excited Brock jumped out and ran over to me.
“We’ve got trouble! Headlights coming from the direction of Plymouth! Three of them. I think its Joe and the others. But you know what that means.”
He didn’t need to spell it out. If they were returning at this early hour, the Marauders were on the move. Luke arrived at my side. He was naked from the waist up, the harness and his hook missing for his night’s sleep.
“Fuck!” he said under his breath. “We only needed a few more hours.”
“We might still have time, but we need to move now. Brock, drive that Jeep around the Valley and make as much noise as you can. I want everyone up and in the staging area, ready to leave within twenty minutes.”
“Yes, sir!”
He ran back to the Jeep and took off, planting his hand on the horn as soon as it was in motion. A sleep tousled Paul and Ben arrived as we turned to head back inside.
“Change of plans,” I said before they could ask. “We have to leave now; the Marauders are on the way. I need both of you dressed and out there rounding everyone up. We’re leaving in half an hour.”
They didn’t linger; they knew the gravity of the situation.
“Come on, we need to get the girls and everyone else ready to go. Can you send Beau to bring one of the buses down here?”
“Yep, let’s roll.”
Joe and the patrol arrived about five minutes after the alarm was raised by Brock. From their vantage near Ashland, Joe, who had been taking the night watch, had seen unusual movement in the Marauders’ camp just past midnight.
“I mean, we watched for a while, but it was pretty clear they were gearing up to move, and it was pretty obvious it was for an attack of some sort.”
“How many?” I asked.
“To be honest, I didn’t stay to find out, but to me it looked like the whole camp was being mobilized. I should have stayed, I mean ... ”
“No, you did the right thing. We need time more than intel.”
I patted him on the back and sent him to help load the buses down by the barn.
Ten minutes later, we were loading mothers and younger children onto a bus in front of the farmhouse. That included Indigo, Max, Ava, and Peace. Brooke, in her condition, would also ride with them, with Jamal driving. Both Indigo and Brooke were armed with Chinese pistols. Allie was on the bus too. She would ride up front with Jamal and was also armed.
“Take care of my boy,” I said, as I hugged Indigo.
“Of course, you take care of you.”
I kissed Max on the top of his head and ushered them onto the bus with a lump in my throat. I waited for Luke as he embraced Brooke in a ridiculously long hug. He finally let her go and patted her on the butt with his hook as she walked carefully up the steps. She turned, one hand on her belly, and wagged her finger at him.
“Keep your hook to yourself.”
She blew him a kiss before turning and heading into the bus.
We both stood there a moment as the bus engine rumbled to life and headed up to the clearing we had designated as the staging area.
The whole Valley was a hive of activity, roughly illuminated by the occasional torch and the lights of our vehicles. The two buses by the barn were filling rapidly and up in the staging area I could see the contingent that would be on foot, milling about and ready to move out. For just a second, I nearly freaked out. There were just over seven hundred that would be walking. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that if we did strike trouble, we would lose a lot of them.
“Come on,” I said to Luke, gathering myself. “I want to get moving now.”
We walked up the hill and Luke took the bull horn from Allie.
“Open the gates,” he called ahead.
One of the guards on the hill jumped in the old school bus and the others went to the front and slowly pushed it backwards, unblocking the opening. The last two buses rumbled up the hill and Ben and Beau marshalled the pedestrians to allow room for the other buses to join the ones carrying the girls.
“Line up five across!” cal
led Ben, as he and Beau walked the line ushering the pedestrians into a marching formation. When they were done, the line curled back down the hill about 150 feet. The rearguard of two Hummers pulled in behind them. We had decided to drain the SUVs for fuel and leave them behind.
“Okay, only one thing left to do,” said Luke, and he walked to the lead Hummer and came back holding a rocket launcher.
“Do you want to do the honors?” he asked.
I shook my head. We had only decided to destroy the house a few minutes before and I didn’t think I could pull the trigger.
“Okay.”
Luke walked twenty feet or so back towards the farmhouse and checked there was plenty of clear space behind him before putting it to his shoulder. The buzzing of the crowd fell silent until all I could hear was the slight breeze rustling the leaves on the trees to our left.
WHUUUMMMP!
The grenade smashed through the front window and exploded, blowing the rest of the windows out in a bright flash. We all watched as our home began to burn, the kerosene Luke had poured throughout the ground floor doing its job as an accelerant efficiently.
Luke tossed the rocket launcher to the ground and turned around after making sure the flames had taken hold.
I nodded and took the bull horn from Ben as we reached the lead Hummer. Ben climbed into the driver’s seat as Luke went to the rear of the old bus we had used to block the gate. Together, with the guards, he would push it back into place and then arm the bomb before they all climbed the walls and we moved out.
I put the bull horn to my mouth. “Attention, everyone, we’re heading out. If anyone wants to stay behind, now is the time to say so.” I paused a few seconds, no one came forward. “Good luck and a safe journey to us all.”
There was some whistling and clapping as the engines of the Hummers roared to life. I climbed into the lead one and Ben tapped the accelerator as I pulled the door closed. I couldn’t resist one last look back over my shoulder at the burning farmhouse as we drove through the gate.
Rude Shock (America Falls Book 4) Page 12