by Roger Hayden
“Damn it, I missed,” Joel said. He and Pat Freeman were on the roof, both of them holding rifles. “I was going for Hodder but hit one of his men instead,”
“We better get ready for an onslaught,” Pat said.
“Everyone take cover!” Joel shouted.
***
Running down the sloped tunnel, Greg, Veronica, and five of the others had made it to the second bunker under the navigation of a burly man named Shane. As Greg’s group approached the door into the bunker, they could hear gunshots from afar.
“Holy shit,” Shane said with heavy breaths. “Did they get them?” He looked at Greg. “You think they got the other team?”
Greg listened carefully as another faint pop went off.
“No, that’s coming from the public square. The hangar is on the opposite side of the base.”
“What do we do now?” a woman said in a quivering voice.
“Everyone just calm down,” Greg said. “We proceed with the plan. This bunker is too important to abandon. It’s our only hope of fighting back. Now everyone stay away from the door in case one of the guards comes rushing out.”
The group backed away as Greg kept the pistol aimed at the door. Veronica leaned against the wall close to him and spoke into his ear.
“What do we do once we get in? We only have four rounds left.”
Greg looked at her and handed her the pistol. “You fire as soon as I breach the door.”
Veronica took the pistol and felt the weight of it in her hand and the weight on her shoulders.
Greg looked at her and nodded. She could tell he was intensely focused on the mission at hand. They heard footsteps above and then saw silhouettes of a group running down the tunnel.
“They’re shooting out there,” Ernie said, running toward them with a tool bag swinging in his hand.
“I know, but it seems unrelated to us,” Greg answered.
“Maybe the resistance has already started,” Carol, the red-haired woman, interjected.
Ernie handed Greg the bag. “Here, I got most of what you asked for. Flathead, Philips head, wire cutters, splicers…um… needle nose pliers, and a flashlight.”
“Perfect,” Greg said. “Great work.”
Ernie shrugged as Greg pulled the flashlight from the bag and handed it to him. “I hope it helps.”
They walked to the keypad as everyone stood aside. Veronica kept a steady aim at the center of the bunker entrance door, knowing that armed guards would be waiting on the other side. Greg immediately went to work on the security panel next to the door. He used a small screwdriver to remove the panel and then pulled out the keypad and began splicing and reconnecting the wires. For Ernie, it was like watching a master at work. After a few tense moments, a beep was heard over the keypad.
“Get ready,” Greg said.
They could hear the lock click as Greg pulled the door open. Inside, two armed guards were playing cards at a table only a few feet away. They were taken completely by surprise as the door swung open. Their rifles were slung around their shoulders, and they tossed their cards away and jumped up.
“Drop your weapons!” Greg shouted.
Before Greg could continue, Brian stormed the room with his rifle and sprayed it with bullets, blasting both men away. They hit the ground, their bodies riddled with bullet wounds. Both Greg and Veronica were stunned by Brian’s actions. He turned to them with a satisfied grin but could clearly see that they weren’t happy.
“What?” he said defensively. “We’re alive, aren’t we? Who gives a shit?”
“Right…” Greg said. “The thing is, Brian, we need to be on the same page at every call. Those guards could have information we need about getting into the vault.”
“Come on, Greg. You said you could get in there, no problem.”
“Listen. Out there in the open, it’s kill or be killed, but in tight spaces, especially secure rooms like this, we have to use tact.”
Brian said no more.
“Just please be more careful. Acting like a gung-ho maniac will get you or someone else killed.” Greg looked to the group still standing outside the entrance door. “Let’s go, everyone. We have a vault to breach.”
***
The firefight continued from the rooftop as Joel and Pat took random shots at Hodder’s men whenever they got the chance. Joel knew he had started something the minute he took his shot, but it was the last chance he thought he would have to take Hodder out. He then realized that it had been a bad move.
Jordan, their three children, and Dolores hid behind a large air vent in the center of the roof. Despite the extensive searches through the base, Hodder’s men had never thought to look on the roofs of the buildings, and it was exactly what Joel had been counting on. Now he had unleashed their fury.
“We’re on our own,” he said to Pat as bullets whizzed by their heads. “Conserve your ammunition. Pretty soon they’ll figure out how we got up here.”
Pat nodded while keeping his rifle close. The public square had since been evacuated, and they could only see glimpses of Hodder’s men hiding wherever they could and taking shots at them. Joel figured that Hodder’s men planned to wait until Joel and Pat ran out of ammo. For that reason, he told Pat to fire only when he had to.
Though Hodder and his men were dumbfounded trying to figure out how Joel and his crew had gotten on the roof of the building, it was rather simple. They had used ratchet straps, smuggled from the hangar, and linked them together to make a makeshift grappling system. Normally used to tie down and secure cargo loads, the ratchet straps made a perfect climbing tool. Joel climbed up first, dropped the line, pulled up his children, dropped the line again, and so on. Their survival, however, depended on a zero-sum game.
***
Greg’s team quickly moved to the vault door—a single iron door in a small hallway—and Greg got to work on the digital combination lock. Like most vaults, he knew that the alarm system module was inside. If armed, he’d have very little time to disable it. It would go off immediately, alerting Hodder to a breach, but if he could shut it off in time, Hodder might be more distracted by the shooting outside than by the alarm briefly triggering. Sweat poured down his forehead as everyone gathered around, waiting anxiously.
Greg disassembled the front of the lock and turned the knob carefully, looking for the right pattern.
“How much longer?” Brian asked, pacing nervously.
“Brian, please,” said Ernie. “Let the man work.”
After a few moments, Greg broke the combination. He looked at Veronica, nodded, and then lifted up on the large metal handle. He heard a metallic click and told the group to be ready. He pulled the door open and an ear-piercing alarm triggered immediately. They only had moments to try to save their lives and fight back.
“Grab any weapons you see!” Greg shouted, rushing in. There were weapons racks containing up to thirty M4 carbine rifles, untouched. Boxes of ammunition and empty magazines sat on the floor atop a pallet. The group moved in fast and grabbed the rifles. Veronica found some 9mm ammo and magazines and loaded them while the group zeroed in on a pallet of 5.56mm rounds and loaded the magazines as fast as they could.
Greg found the alarm system box and pried it open. He then moved systematically to disarm it by splicing the wires and removing circuit boards. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he moved carefully to remove just the right components.
***
Hodder was squatting behind the stage for protection, watching the roof of the building, when he heard the alarm go off over all the loud speakers.
“What the hell was that?” he shouted to Alex, who was standing next to him.
“I don’t know. Sounds like the arms room alarm went off. Johnson must have set it off or something. Dumbass.”
Alex’s attention was focused on the shooter on the roof. Several of the men had advanced closer to the building.
“Get on your radio and ask Johnson why he tripped the alarm,” Hodder said.
To Alex, he was beginning to sound like some nagging parent. He looked at Hodder with a blank stare.
“Do it already! We could have armory breach! This shit could all be orchestrated.”
Another shot fired from the roof, causing Alex and Hodder to duck.
“Son of a bitch!” Hodder said. “Kill those bastards!”
***
Greg’s group was armed and ready. So far, everything was going to plan. The hardest part, however, was now upon them. Regular men and women—they would all have to fight. Hodder’s men were experienced shooters and killers while some of Greg’s group had never fired a weapon before in their life. Their numbers were such that everyone had to fight. It was the only way. As they gathered in the outside tunnel, Greg briefly went over some fundamentals to the novices.
“You align the rear sight and front sight and aim at the center of your target. Control your breathing and keep the weapon as steady as possible. As you exhale, gently squeeze the trigger once your target is in sight. Hodder’s men will most likely be using concealment, so we need to use the element of surprise to our advantage.”
The group listened attentively as Greg pointed to Brian.
“You and I will take out the two guards in each tower. Ernie, you lead the rest of the group directly to the public square and take out as many of Hodder’s men as possible. And if anyone finds Hodder, keep him alive, because he’s mine.”
Shots continued to ring out from outside. Nervousness and anxiety began to spread through the group as the time to move came closer.
“Is everyone ready?” Greg asked.
“Yes,” they answered in unison.
Veronica stepped forward and Greg grabbed her arm.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m following Ernie.”
“With a pistol? You should have grabbed a long-range weapon.”
“This is what I know. I’ll be fine, Greg, really.”
Greg knew better than to challenge Veronica, especially with all eyes on them. He released her arm and gave her an understanding look. “Just please be careful,” he said.
With that, everyone was ready to go.
***
They charged up the tunnel with Greg and Brian in the lead. The minute they emerged, sunlight nearly blinded them. Greg and Brian split off and ran to the guard towers on their left as the rest of the group moved toward the public square. There were ten or so of Hodder’s men crouched down at different points around Joel and Pat’s building, blissfully unaware of the advancing militia.
Frustrated, Hodder ran off the stage and toward the bunkers to investigate. Upon Hodder’s departure, the citizen’s militia followed Ernie and Veronica to the center of the public square where Hodder’s men were open and exposed with their backs to them. From the top of the roof, Joel took a peek and couldn’t believe his eyes. There were people fighting back. He fired his rifle into the air just to distract Hodder’s men further.
“Take positions,” Ernie said. The group dispersed to different spots from behind and around the platform stage. They crept up behind Alex and Tom, two of Hodder’s men, who were taken completely by surprise.
“What the fuck?” Alex said.
Veronica was quick to react and fired bullets into each of the men, both head shots. They dropped like rocks to the ground as Hodder’s other men, only ten feet away, remained focused on the shooter on the roof. Specialist Santos, however, turned around and saw something strange: fresh blood all over the stage. He then noticed some people in dirty blue and orange jumpsuits.
“Behind you, we got company!” he shouted.
Hodder’s men turned around, confused.
“Fire!” Veronica shouted.
The citizen’s militia fired their rifles, hitting three of Hodder’s men right away. Santos jumped behind the other side of the crate he was using for concealment. There was a pause in the assault. One of the men in Greg’s group had a weapon’s malfunction. A woman forgot to pull her charging handle back. Their first assault was sloppy, but they still managed to take out five of Hodder’s clueless men in the process.
“They’re behind the stage!” Santos yelled.
“Get down!” Veronica yelled to her people.
Bullets flew over them. The man with the weapon’s jam was torn to pieces just as another man on Greg’s team took one in the head. Ernie and Veronica both urged the group to fire back, and bullets began to fly in both directions. The chaotic gunfight intensified once Joel and Pat got back into the mix. From above, Joel noticed that the majority of Hodder’s men were pinned down. He scanned the square. There were five dead men on the pavement and seven more firing into the stage. Suddenly he saw his target and aimed at Specialist Santos. It was one shot he was confident that he wasn’t going to miss.
***
Greg and Brian ran in a crisscross pattern toward the guard towers. The guards, feeling threatened by the gunfire in the public square, had radioed for more men, asking for help. The distraction gave Greg and Brian a chance to find concealed positions below each tower. Greg gave the go-ahead and they took their shots. Both guards were struck through the head without knowing what hit them. They fell over the tower railing, plummeting forty-feet below and splitting their heads open on the concrete below. Brian looked to Greg, and Greg looked back with a signal to join the fight in the public square. It felt like they were winning.
***
Hodder knew something was terribly wrong. The amount of gunfire was perplexing. It no longer involved a lone shooter on the roof. He pulled his Colt .45 from its holster and backed against the nearest building. He called his men on the radio, demanding a status report, but no one answered.
Could this really be it? Could the resistance actually be winning? he thought.
For a split second, the irony of the situation hit him; he was now on the losing side of a mutiny much like his own. But he wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Base 42 was his, and he’d do whatever was left in his power to hold onto it. He crouched down against the building behind an oil drum to strategize. Suddenly he saw two men running past the building. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say one of the men looked just like Greg.
How? he thought. How is it possible?
He raised his revolver and fired at the closest man. A deafening blast erupted from his gun. The shot hit Brian’s leg and brought him to the ground. Greg stopped as Brian’s rifle slid across the concrete. He was as taken by surprise as Brian, and he quickly jumped behind another oil drum, similar to the one Hodder was hiding behind.
Brian lay on the ground struggling. Just as he reached for Greg, another shot rang out, splitting his head open. Greg jumped back behind the oil drum and held his rifle close to his chest. Hodder examined the carnage with satisfaction.
“Greg!” he yelled out. “This isn’t over yet. You think your rag-tag group of misfits can take over my base? You’re dead wrong, my friend. Dead wrong!”
Greg looked out from behind the oil drum toward the direction of Hodder’s voice.
“It’s over, Hodder!” Greg shouted. “You lost. Your men are dead. There may be two or so running around, but we neutralized this base. Best for you to surrender if you want to stay alive.”
Hodder laughed. “You really expect me to believe that? You’re the kind of man who would kill someone just out of spite. You wanna know how I know that? Because we’re the same, Greg! Two sides of the same coin.”
He stopped and looked all around just to see if anyone was sneaking up on him. After taking a deep breath, he continued.
“You may act noble, but you’re no different. We’ve both killed, but you justify your killing while condemning mine. In the end, it’s all the same.”
“Very poetic,” Greg said. “This is your last chance, Hodder.”
He turned around facing in Hodder’s direction and balanced the barrel of his rifle on top of the oil drum. He was looking for a clean shot, any shot, but Hodder was completely conc
ealed. He then fired two shots into Hodder’s oil drum. All that followed was laughter.
“Gonna take a lot more than that to put a hole through these drums.”
***
The firefight continued in the public square. Only two of Hodder’s men remained, though they were pinned down. Ernie had a plan. He had his group provide cover fire as he ran around the public square to get Hodder’s men from the other side. He was in the process of running around the very same building Joel was positioned atop of. Once in position, he saw both Hodder’s men hiding, crouched down with their backs against wood crates and cinderblocks. Both their weapons were on the ground and it was clear they were out of ammo.
Their dirty faces were stricken with fear. Ernie studied them for a moment and then came to a decision. Something Greg had said earlier stuck out for him. It was something about humanity.
He approached the men and told them to put their hands in the air. Wide-eyed, the men jumped up and held their hands out, begging him not to shoot.
“I’m not going to kill you. That is, as long as you do what I say. Whether you die or not today, that’s entirely on you.”
***
The group rallied around the stage platform after their sweeping victory against Hodder’s men. Ernie signaled to Joel and Pat, still stationed at the top of the building, that the area was clear. Joel’s heart leaped and he hugged Pat, taking the old man completely off guard. The only remaining problem they had was getting off the building.
Veronica met up with Ernie and they assessed their numbers. They had lost some men: Keagan, Josh, two young men in their thirties, and Terry, a gruff man nearing fifty-five. Outside the base, they undoubtedly had family somewhere. Family who would have to know how hard they fought and how their efforts had made a difference in saving everyone else.