#
Devon turned the headlights off and sped along the road running parallel to the highway before they connected. Vehicle after vehicle moved along the main road as the Land Rover slipped invisibly by. They said nothing to each other. There was nothing to say. Most of the vehicles were trucks, including some eighteen-wheelers, and they were almost certainly carrying troops. The Sons of Solomon had come in overwhelming force.
The victory in April had been their Helm's Deep and now they faced the full might of Mordor. But there was no team of hobbits on a secret mission to destroy their leaders. Nothing would come between the Sons of Solomon and complete victory.
They darted onto the highway half a mile or so ahead of the convoy. The Land Rover's engine thrashed away as Devon floored the gas pedal.
"When we get to the barricade, let me out," Gert said over the deafening roar.
"What?"
"I'll slow them up. You go find Jessie and get yourself and her away. And Jade."
"No way! That's a suicide mission."
Gert looked across at him. "My friend, I have nothing to fight for. I'm tired of it all. If I can hold them up, even for a little while, it'll give you time to raise the alarm and get away. Let me do this, please. I will make them pay for Libby's death."
"You really loved her, didn't you?"
Gert nodded. "I fell fast and deep. Now I'm running on empty. But we can't expect the guards at the barricade to fight if we don't. And you've got Jessie, Jade and Dorothy to think of."
They didn't say another word until they reached the roadblock. Devon was pleased to see a figure move behind the central barrier, then come out to greet them supported by another guard.
Gert got out, hands raised, and declared himself.
Moments later, he was at the driver's window shaking Devon's hand. "Now be quick, my friend. I won't ask these men to give their lives away. We will resist for a while, but then they will head south too. They could easily be in Hope within an hour."
Devon shook the Dutchman's hand but found no words to say.
Jade poked her head through from the back, kissed him on the cheek and disappeared again.
"Goodbye, Gert. Thank you," Devon said before driving through the gap as, behind him, the highway filled with lights.
#
Rusty Kaminski almost fell off the couch when his police radio spluttered into life.
"Who the hell is this?" he snapped.
"Sheriff, this is Gert Bekmann. They are coming, the Sons."
Hickman leaped up and grabbed the handset from Kaminski. "What are you talking about? Crawford's got no vehicles."
"They're coming from the north. From Salt Lake City, I guess. Hundreds of them. I'm at the north barricade. We won't be able to hold them off for long. You got less than an hour. Pity we moved the machine gun. Could've taken more with me. Good luck and Godspeed. Over and out."
Hick dropped the handset into Rusty's lap and glanced over at Remik who sat smirking at them. "Mary, would you leave us, please?" he said.
The farmer's wife looked from her husband to Hick and went upstairs.
Hick took his knife and cut through Remik's bonds then pressed the gun into the back of his head. "Walk."
"What you going to do?" the young man said, glancing at the others with terror in his eyes, but seeing no comfort there.
"Walk!"
Hick took the sobbing man outside, forced him to kneel and shot him like a pig.
He came back in to find Cassie in her mother's arms.
"I suggest you take your family to Springs, Elwood. Rusty, I can't tell you what to do, but I'm goin' south."
"Jesus, Paul. You can't just shoot a man like that!" Kaminski roared.
Hick jabbed a finger at the sheriff. "What are ya gonna do? Arrest me? That scum betrayed us and now they're rollin' in. What d'you think would have happened to the Millers if he was alive when they did? What d'you reckon his deal was with the Sons?"
"That may be, but you murdered him!"
"I executed him. Judge, jury and firing squad. It was him or them," Hick said, swing his hand round to point at the Millers, who were huddled together on the couch. Even Elwood had been freaked out by Hick's action.
Kaminski shook his head as if to reset himself. "Aren't we gonna fight them?"
"You heard Gert. Hundreds of vehicles means thousands of fighters. It's over, Rusty, and we all got to look to ourselves. You might be able to help in Hope, but I reckon it wouldn't be long before you'd find yourself hangin' from a rope. If you want my advice, I'd hightail it to Springs and enjoy a few days or weeks of freedom before they come there, too."
"And what are you gonna do?"
"I'm gonna kill Crawford. Hope may have gone, but there's still revenge."
Chapter 11: Evac
"Thank God you're okay!" Jessie threw her arms around Devon and buried her head in his shoulder. He'd gambled on her still being at his apartment and it had paid off. "Who's this?"
Devon pulled away. "This is Jade. She was with me in Ezra."
"Hey," Jade said, raising a hand. "Devon's talked about you a lot. Mainly in his sleep."
Jessie's eye narrowed as she shot a glance at him.
"We all shared a safe house," he said with a sigh. "But we haven't got time for this. The Sons are coming, and you have to get away."
"What? I haven't heard any gunfire."
"You will do. They're coming from the north, from Salt Lake City. Thousands of them. Too many. We've got maybe an hour."
Jessie put her hands on her hips. "And you're staying here?"
"Yes. I've seen how they resisted in Ezra and I intend to do the same here."
"Then I'm staying too. And before you play the pregnancy card, or mention Dorothy's name, I don't reckon it'll be any safer sending us away. We'd have to take the south road and for all we know the Sons are coming up that way from Ezra."
"I doubt it. We blew up most of their vehicles."
Jessie shook her head. "If you're staying, I'm staying. What do you say, kid?"
"I'm sticking with Dev," Jade said. "And I'm twenty."
"Really? But you're …"
"I think the word you're looking for is 'petite'," Devon said.
Jessie looked from one to the other, reluctant to give up her suspicion. "Sorry, Jade."
"S'okay. I am a big kid, really. Devon's looked after me. I trust him, yeah? Knew it first time I met him. Know what I mean?"
Jessie smiled. "Yeah. He has that effect on people. And you're right. He's a pig-headed sexist with anger issues, but you can trust him. Now, I suggest we prepare for the occupation."
"How do we do that?" Jade asked.
"By making ourselves invisible."
Devon slumped into the couch, totally ignored by the two women.
Ten minutes later, a fist thumped against the front door. Devon leaped to his feet and grabbed the Glock before looking through the peephole.
"It's Rusty," he said to Jessie. "The sheriff," he added to Jade.
Rusty Kaminski almost fell inside in his haste. "Oh, thank God you're here. I thought you might've hightailed it out of Hope already. Are you packed?"
"We're not going," Jessie said. "We'll take our chances here."
The sheriff took one look at her expression and nodded. "Well, good luck to you. But will you help us get as many away as we can? Some of the old folks ain't gonna want to be here when those devils roll in."
"Sure," Jessie said and, before Devon could stop her, she pushed past him and out into the stairwell.
He turned to Jade, who was shrinking away from the door. "Will you wait here for us? Watch the baby?"
She nodded, then disappeared as the door swung shut.
"We had one piece of luck," Rusty said as they ran down the apartment block staircase. "All three of the convoy trucks are here and fueled up. I reckon we can take a hundred people if we squeeze them in."
As they reached ground level, his radio squawked. "Sheriff here."
"This is Bekmann. Over."
"What's your sitrep?"
"They have taken position a hundred yards in advance of the barricade. So far, no hostile action. I don't understand why they haven't yet attacked. It is possible they're coordinating with forces from Ezra, though I doubt it."
Kaminski nodded. "Well, we gotta go south, whether they're comin' that way or not. How long d'you reckon we got?"
"We won't be able to hold them for long. The mines we planted might delay them, but don't count on more than an hour before they're in the city center. We'll do our best, but I won't sacrifice the lives of the people here unnecessarily."
"And that goes for you too, Gert."
"Godspeed, Sheriff. Over and out."
They climbed into the squad car and Rusty drove them the half a mile to the school.
"Here, you'd best have the radio now, so you can keep in touch with him. You know, I thought Bekmann was the worst of the worst when I met him," Kaminski said as they got out and strode toward the school. "Turns out he's the best of the best.
The school was a scene of chaos as people emerged from the darkness clutching bags of clothes and each other. A larger and larger crowd was gathering around the trucks which were guarded by soldiers.
"Who's in charge?" Devon asked as they went inside the school building.
Rusty snorted. "Apparently, I am."
"Rusty!" Joe Bowie emerged from the throng and ran toward the sheriff.
"What is it, Joe?"
Bowie gripped Rusty's arms, his eyes wide with panic. "It's Martha. She won't leave."
Kaminski cursed under his breath. "Can't say I'm surprised, but does she know what'll likely happen to the sick and the old when those devils get here?"
"She says she ain't old and she won't be sick for long. But if they know what happened here when she … she killed that terrorist …"
"Trouble is, short of draggin' her out of the house kickin' and screamin', there's not a whole heap I can do."
"Will you just come and talk with her? Hick's tried and even he can't get her to see sense."
Kaminski shook his head. "I ain't got time to go on a fool's errand, even for Martha Bowie. I suggest you get her upstairs out of the way and hope for the best. Sorry, Joe."
And he was off to try to find order in the chaos of far too many people needing far too few spaces.
Devon watched as the trucks pulled away. He had his arm around Jessie and the amber light of a late summer evening lent a surreal quality to the scene. Hundreds of people were left, held back by guards who, at the last minute, shouldered weapons and ran for their places on the overcrowded vehicles. Families had been splintered as only the old and sick were allowed, and not nearly all of those. Angry cries rose into the sky as the walkie-talkie crackled.
Devon pulled it out of his pocket, but he hadn't even gotten it to his ear before Bekmann's voice cried out, "They're coming!" He could hear a cacophony of bangs, cracks and shouts in the background and then the channel went dead.
"What do we do?" A woman had grabbed Jessie by the arms. She was sweating in the warm summer evening. "He said they're coming. Where can we go?"
Jessie shook the woman off. "I'm sorry. You'd best go home. You're in a lot more danger if they find you on the streets when they arrive."
"But I haven't got anyone. My mom went off in the truck."
Jessie shot a look at Devon that managed to communicate the fact that if he added yet another sheep to his flock, then he'd have to find a new Bo Peep.
He stepped forward and took the woman's hand. "This isn't the end. If we can stick together, we can beat them. Or, at least, survive."
From the north came the crack of gunfire followed by the deeper rumble of explosives.
The woman pulled her hand away, looked from one to the other of them as if they were insane and ran off into the crowd.
"Jessie?" Devon turned a three-sixty looking for her.
There she was, standing on a chair, her belly just obvious beneath a T-shirt with a sunflower design. "Hey, listen up! Hey!!"
To a person, the crowd froze, and every head turned to her.
"Now, we're under attack, and I know who's coming. I've seen them up close and been with folks who were forced to live under their rule. Make no mistake, they are the worst. They are the scum behind the attack in February, so they don't care much about life. So, my advice is to keep your heads down and do what you need to do to survive.
"But listen to me now, every one of you. I say do what you need to, but if we are to survive, we have to stay together as a community. So, work for them when they demand it, follow their orders and stay out of the line of fire."
Dozens of frightened faces gazed up at her as the sun set over Hope, making a silhouette of Gil Summers's daughter.
"Do what you have to, but don't collaborate. Don't inform on your neighbors, don't volunteer, don't steal from other Hopers. Because there's a special place in hell for anyone who does those things and I will personally open the door to Satan's pits and push them through.
"Go back to your homes and hunker down. They will be here soon, but always remember that Hope is ours, and it always will be. They are not welcome here and, one day, they will be gone. Keep hope. Keep Hope!"
The chant began quietly as Jessie repeated the words. Devon watched like a man enchanted as the crowd took it up until it became a roar of defiance to drown out the distant gunfire. Then Jessie lifted her arms, cried out "Go!" and they turned and filed silently away.
He helped her down from the chair and pulled her into an embrace. "That was amazing," he said.
Then they walked home to await the invasion.
Devon spent the forty minutes between getting home and the sound of trucks revving along the road outside hiding everything he wouldn't want the Sons to find. There was only so much he could do against a determined search, but he chose a nook behind the oven for his handgun and knives that would take a complete dismantling of his apartment to uncover.
The couch had been pushed up against the window so they could all three kneel on it and look over the back to watch the conquerors arrive in town. It was almost entirely dark, so they could only see by the headlights of the trucks and cars that drove slowly down the highway from the north. They could see the indistinct forms of marching figures and Devon was reminded of black-and-white footage he'd seen of German troops arriving in Paris, intimidating the people with their might and discipline.
Dread fell on Devon like a blanket as he watched them. Even in the darkness, these soldiers were obviously in a different class from those he'd seen in Ezra. There, a small core of trained fighters was supplemented by what appeared to be civilians who'd been given weapons. Here, the occupiers marched in lockstep like an elite Panzer support regiment invading the Low Countries. If it was designed to intimidate, then it was certainly working.
"Good God," Jessie whispered, reaching out to take Devon's hand.
"Maybe I should've stayed in Ezra," Jade said, letting out a nervous laugh.
Devon shook his head in disbelief. "So many. There must be hundreds."
"I don't get it," Jessie said. "Why send an army to take over a tiny place like Hope?"
"It's all about the look of it. It's a statement. I guess this is the one city that survived intact, and now it belongs to them. Resistance is futile."
And so they watched as an army marched into Hope.
#
"It's Gordon. Dammit, I told the old fool not to use his lights! Pull over, Rusty."
It was dark as Paul Hickman climbed down from the cab of the lead truck. He stood and waited as he was bathed in the light of Gordon Smith's motorbike until it finally roared to a halt beside him.
The man groaned as climbed off the bike and strode over. "Sorry, Mr. Hickman, but I had to get back as quick as I could. There's a roadblock ahead. I saw lights and soldiers."
"How many?"
Gordon wiped the sweat from his face and glanced down the road as i
f he could see the barricade from there. "I'm not sure. Plenty to stop us, though."
"Where is it exactly?"
"Maybe four miles south of here."
Hick banged on the side of the truck. They were so close. The barricade had obviously been built to guard the intersection where the road to Ezra met the one running northwest to Springs. That was the one they were heading for. And they couldn't get to it.
By now, Rusty and the drivers of the other two trucks had gotten out of their cabs and converged on Hick and Jordan.
"We're gonna have to go across country," Hick said. "Tell your passengers to grab on to something. The ride's gonna get bumpy."
"You can't be serious. We got the old and the sick in the backs of these trucks, and a long line of others in cars. We can't go bouncin' them around. And besides, we'd probably end up in a ditch—we can't use our headlights."
Hick swung on the sheriff. "If you've got a better suggestion, I'm all ears. You heard what Gordon said. We can't go south or we'll run into a roadblock, so unless you think it's a good idea to turn tail and head back to Hope, then I don't see what options we've got."
Rusty Kaminski looked around at the others, as if hoping that one of them would have a solution. No one spoke. "It just seems crazy."
"I know, but we'll send folk out on foot in front of the trucks to find a way. It'll take forever, but I reckon we can make it, and there ain't no choice as far as I can see. Now, let's get on with it before they send anyone scouting up the road."
It took fifteen minutes to get everyone prepared. Those who were fittest were chosen to lead the convoy across the triangular slice of land that was formed by the two roads. Hick tried not to think about the hazards that this group of geriatric boy scouts and girl scouts might stumble upon in the dark. All they'd need would be for someone to step on a sidewinder.
They drove south for another mile, getting as close to the barricade as they could so that the drive along the hypotenuse would be as short as possible, before turning off the road and into the dark scrubland.
Last Freedom: Book 4 in the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (The Last City - Book 4) Page 9