by Nathan Jones
More importantly, as soon as the road was clear enough for his bike he could coast most of the way down and rest his seriously overworked muscles.
The thought of that gave Trev enough of a boost to get him past the worst of the snowdrifts by noon, and from there he did indeed spend the next little while coasting on his bike at borderline unsafe speeds. The specter of the time he'd wasted climbing over the last couple days spurred him on, and he slowed down only when the road was slick due to ice, snow, or meltwater. Thanks to that he made it the rest of the way down the mountain in about two hours, shedding his winter gear as he went.
Not into the city, though. He didn't need Lewis's warning that Denver probably still had people in it, and these days he could expect that those people would at best be fiercely territorial and at worst would try to rob him. Instead he turned off where Highway 6 once again split off from 70 and followed it to where Highway 93 ran north skirting the edge of the city all the way to Boulder.
From there he'd take 36 up to where it joined 66 north of Longmont, and follow that highway east to where it met up with 85, which ran northeast up to Greeley. There he'd skirt the edge of the town following smaller roads to 392 and follow that up to 14, which ran east a fair ways until it met up with I-76 which ran northeast to join I-80.
Trev wouldn't be going that way, though. The point of following the dizzying assortment of smaller roads and highways was that they'd eventually take him back to Highway 6, which ran along I-76 after it split from I-70, until he reached Highway 23 which ran perpendicular to I-80 for a long ways until it reached Highway 34, aka good old Highway 6 once again running along with another highway.
The two highways split off and went their own ways a few times, but the thrust of it was that from that point he'd either be following 34 or 6 almost all the way to Chicago, a major portion of the distance he had to travel. So he'd have plenty of opportunity to enjoy everything those scenic routes had to offer.
Which was getting a bit ahead of himself. For today his goal was to make it as close to Highway 14 as possible, or even reach it and follow it long enough to get away from the population centers that hugged the eastern edge of the mountains. At least 100 miles for the day if he could manage it.
Tomorrow was the deadline for the US's ultimatum for Gold Bloc forces to pull out of Canada, and possibly when those forces would instead begin their invasion of the northern states. With that specter looming over him Trev felt the pressure to go faster to make up for lost time.
Once he got to the relatively flat region of the Great Plains he felt sure that he'd be able to manage a faster pace on his bike, especially now that his muscles had gotten used to the new way they were being used. He couldn't afford to be too ambitious and push himself too far, but depending on how things went he hoped he could up his goal from 150 miles per day to 160 or 170. Maybe even 180 if he could keep on getting good rest and eating well. Part of the purpose of this complex route avoiding larger roads and population centers was so that he wouldn't have to spend quite as much time being cautious.
So he pedaled hard for the rest of the day, keeping his eyes out for danger but doing his best not to let caution slow him down any more than necessary. By sunset he'd reached Briggsdale on 14, and in the growing dark he kept on pushing down the highway until there wasn't a building to be seen.
Only then did he walk his bike well off the road to a secluded spot, spread his tarp, and wriggle into his sleeping bag to sleep under the open sky. It was a bit chilly, but compared to up in the mountains Trev barely noticed.
* * * * *
The raiders hadn't attacked again since the day after Trev left, but in spite of that the tense strain of a place besieged hung over Aspen Hill.
A lot of that was due to the knowledge that the mountains were no longer a possibility for escape and the town was completely surrounded. That impression was reinforced by the raiders making constant drive-bys of the town from all directions, often shooting at any people they saw or even just taking potshots at the windows of outlying buildings. They hadn't hit anyone yet, shooting from a moving vehicle at extreme range, but the sound of frequent gunfire was enough to keep the defenders rattled and the townspeople in a near panic.
There was also the fact that Turner or one of his people could be heard blasting obscenities over the radio whenever anyone turned one on, along with mashing the call button repeatedly to make obnoxious noises. He made sure everyone listening knew without a shadow of a doubt that the raiders were out there and they wanted everyone in Aspen Hill dead.
Mayor Tillman had tried a few times to negotiate with him, but since getting shot in the head Turner was in a vindictive mood. The demands he offered were impossible to the point of being outright infuriating, asking for everything of value in the town, including food, precious metals, and weapons and ammo. He also demanded that anyone who'd played a part in defending the town be turned over for mass execution, including the Mayor herself.
The first demand was out of the question, but the moment Turner even brought up the second demand Catherine immediately broke off negotiations. If they followed those terms hundreds of people would be killed without a fight and the town would be completely defenseless against further predation if Turner didn't keep his word, which he almost certainly wouldn't.
That was pretty much that, and with no help coming from outside that left the people of Aspen Hill with no choice but to wait with dread for the other shoe to drop.
It was the evening of the third day since the attack, seven days since the raiders first arrived, and Lewis and Jane were on their way to the west end of town to begin their usual patrol. One much closer to the town's borders since the night they found the Mercer family. Every now and again she'd brush shoulders with him in a companionable way, but neither spoke as they walked.
Lewis still thought they could be doing more good for the town if Jane was on her own shift, but although he felt a bit selfish for being glad she was with him he had no intention of changing anything. It was a relief to have her at his side, where he could not only enjoy her company but also be sure she was safe. And, to be honest, he didn't know if he would've been able to stay out here like this day after day if she didn't take her shifts with him.
A lot of people had burned out from exhaustion and strain, even knowing how desperately the town needed them, and that put an even greater burden on those that remained. Matt had even assigned noncombatant volunteers as spotters alongside skilled riflemen to lighten the load, but when he offered Lewis and Jane those spotters they'd both refused.
Apparently she preferred their shifts together as much as he did.
He knew it was a pointless line of thought, but he couldn't help but think about how nice her shoulder against his felt. It was almost maddening to have to constantly remind himself that the contact was at best camaraderie, and the spark that would make it more than friendship wasn't there.
“You think they're as tired as we are?” she murmured as they put the last house behind them. As the redheaded woman spoke she straightened with a sigh to pan the area with her binoculars. Tonight they had Lewis's night vision goggles instead of the scope, which made looking through the binoculars a bit awkward. But in spite of that awkwardness and her obvious weariness she was thorough in her inspection.
Lewis made his own inspection of the area in the fading light, reminding himself that just because there hadn't been an attack for days and they were right next to town didn't mean that there weren't enemies out there to be found. Turner's raiders had taken out the sentries and patrols east of town easily enough a few days ago, which was a warning to everyone that the enemy was competent.
It took him a second to realize that by “them”, she meant the raiders. “No. They're a relatively small number of mobile people in temporary encampments, and more importantly they're the only ones putting any pressure on their enemies. They get to rest most of the time and attack at their leisure. We're the ones who have to be on constant
alert committing large numbers of defenders to covering the entire town.”
Jane was quiet for a few moments, long enough to finish her sweep and let the binoculars drop to dangle from their cord around her neck as she continued forward. “So you're saying if we wanted to ease the pressure we should start attacking their camps and giving them sleepless nights?”
Lewis nodded, then realized she wasn't looking at him. “Right.”
“So why aren't we?”
“Because it would be risky, especially without private communications. With their vehicles they could easily chase down anyone who struck at their camp then tried to run away, which means we'd have to coordinate something way more sophisticated than simple a hit and run. Then there's also the fact that if we struck hard enough we might goad them into a full scale attack we're not ready for. At least those are the Mayor's arguments, and Matt agrees with her.”
“You already brought it up with them?” Jane asked. If she was annoyed that he hadn't mentioned any of this to her before now her tone didn't show it.
“Indirectly. I don't really want to suggest an attack until I can think of a way to actually make it work.”
“So that's what's kept you so quiet these past few nights,” she mused. In spite of himself Lewis smiled at her slightly ironic observation, since for both of them “quiet” was pretty much the norm. He thought there was a smile in her voice as well as she continued. “So what have you been thinking?”
Lewis shrugged. “That in medieval sieges numbers favored the defenders, but these days numbers favor the attackers. We've got hundreds of people willing to defend the town and we're having all we can do to protect our borders from under 50 enemies with vehicles and superior weapons. Meanwhile if we sent people out to attack their camps the same sort of comparatively smaller force would be enough to have them scrambling. We might be able to do it with as few as a dozen of our best people.”
“If they didn't have trucks and could chase us down after we hit the camps and tried to run.”
“Right,” Lewis agreed glumly. “That's the problem. But I half think we should do it anyway, even if the attacks don't turn out as good as we hope. We can't afford to let them keep sleeping easy, completely in control of the fight while we're running ourselves ragged trying to defend the town. It's like in sports, where a team that doesn't have to focus on defense will be even more effective on offense.”
“Makes sense to me,” Jane said, turning to glance at him. “What if they move the camps, or completely scatter and dig into foxholes and other ambush points to deal with us the next time we try an attack?”
Lewis hesitated. “Then we find those new camps or emplacements and attack them, too. They're limited by the situation just as much as we are, since they have to stay close enough to town to keep up the siege. If they camped farther out they'd be using much more fuel for their drive-bys, and whatever they brought with them isn't limitless.”
He paused, sorting through his thoughts, then continued. “Same goes for every time they have to move a camp. Eventually they run out of gas and they're in the same boat we are. That limited fuel also puts a time limit on how long they can put off their next attack, which means if we don't hit them they're definitely going to hit us. Also we're already starving and this siege is going to make a bad food situation worse fast, so the faster we end it the better off we are.”
Jane was quiet for a long time, almost until they'd reached the north end of their patrol route where they'd turn and head south again. “You say you've brought all this up indirectly. How much of it have you discussed with Matt?”
Lewis sighed. “Most of it, without going so far as actually suggesting an attack. He doesn't agree with my reasoning.”
She turned to look at him again. “Why not?”
“Because to attack their camps our people would have to be better at sneaking and concealment, better at shooting, and better at coordinating than the raiders. Otherwise the moment we attacked them they'd just single us out and snipe us down. Matt isn't confident our people are better than Turner's.”
“Has he forgotten you caught them by surprise and sniped three men all by yourself?”
Her tone sounded almost annoyed. Lewis appreciated the show of confidence, but he wasn't all that confident he was a match for any of Turner's men. After all, they'd managed to stay out of sight while he was combing the area west of town. “No, he knows I caught them way off guard with that attack. He just doesn't think we'd be able to surprise them again.”
His redheaded companion turned to frown at him. “Why wouldn't we be able to catch them by surprise? This entire time we haven't tried to attack their camps once, which has to have lulled them into a sense of complacency. I don't see how we couldn't catch them off guard at least a little.”
Lewis couldn't help but laugh quietly. “Which is what I said, but he wasn't hearing it. I think he's afraid to take the risk.”
“Things are going to get way worse if we don't.” Jane abruptly tore off the night vision goggles and handed them over, and with a start Lewis realized it was time for his turn. “I'm not sure how long I can keep going like this.”
He accepted the goggles and put them on, then lifted his binoculars and made a careful sweep of the area. That also gave him time to consider his response; Jane didn't display vulnerability often so he wasn't sure how she'd respond to reassurances. “You're not alone. I'm in the same boat, and so are most of the other defenders. A counterattack would take as much pressure off us as it put on them.”
She nodded, and now that he had the goggles he could see her expression clearly. She wore a determined look. “Then let's talk to him after this shift is over. And until then we can try to think of a way to deal with the enemy's advantage of having half a dozen trucks.”
“Not to mention three missile launchers, grenades, noise suppressors for their guns, and night vision gear,” Lewis added a bit glumly. He'd been thinking a lot about what the enemy had and how much of an advantage it gave them, and the conclusions he reached were always discouraging.
They continued on in silence for a while, trading off goggles and carefully inspecting the area around them. When Lewis caught sight of the hill off to the west, well out of the way of their new patrol route now, he couldn't help but think of the Mercer family and the sad, poorly attended funeral the town had held for them the next morning.
That led him to thoughts of his own family, his parents and sister in Norway, hopefully safe, and Trev's family in Michigan where things could already be going bad. Which led him to thoughts of Trev, and he couldn't help the spike of worry he felt for his cousin.
The weather had been clear, but Trev would've reached the Rockies by now. Hopefully he'd made his way past them already, but if the snows were bad he might be stuck barely managing twenty miles a day and could be there for much too long. Or he could get caught in an avalanche or surprised by bitter cold and-
“The deadline for the Gold Bloc pulling out of Canada is tomorrow,” he abruptly said to take his mind off those unpleasant thoughts. “Think we'll be seeing nukes on the horizon when we wake up for our next shift?”
Jane shrugged, and with the goggles on he could see she looked bored and was probably thinking of something else. “Whoever's running things now didn't stick to their guns when it came to their last ultimatum. I doubt they'll do any better this time.”
Lewis couldn't quite blame them for that, when the alternative was nuclear war. Although whoever it was should've probably avoided making the ultimatum in the first place. “What if the Gold Bloc invades?”
The redheaded woman shrugged again. “I don't know. More threats?” She abruptly shifted the topic back to attacking the raiders. “Listen, what if we could somehow disable the trucks before we attacked the camps? Maybe sneak in and pour sugar in their fuel tanks?”
“If we could do that we probably wouldn't need to attack the camps in the first place,” Lewis pointed out. “Those trucks are their main advantage,
the reason they've been able to keep up this siege and wear us down.”
“So maybe we should be thinking of taking out the trucks, not attacking the camps.”
He shook his head. “Guarding their vehicles is their top priority. To take them out we'd have to make a full scale attack on the camps anyway, and with the equipment they've got we probably wouldn't succeed. That's why I'm leaning towards guerrilla tactics.”
“For guerrilla tactics don't you usually have to be more mobile than your enemy? That just brings us right back to our original problem. We need to attack the camps since fighting defensively isn't working, and we can't attack the camps when they have their trucks, and we can't take out their trucks without attacking the camps, and it all just goes around in a circle.”
Lewis suddenly froze, ears straining, and sure enough after a moment heard the slowly building rumble that had been at the edge of his hearing. Speak of the devil.
Jane heard it too. “A patrol?” she hissed, blindly peering into the darkness in the direction of the engine they heard.
He shook his head grimly. With a raider patrol the noise would be getting closer from the north or south, moving fast. This was coming from the west and making directly for them, and the quietness of the engine suggested that the enemy was moving slowly to keep the noise to a minimum.
Now Lewis was faced with a dilemma. He needed to radio the town to give advance warning of the approaching truck, but if he radioed he'd clue the raiders in that they'd been discovered.
While he was pondering it the engine noise abruptly became a roar, and along a dirt road heading west not far from them he saw the dark shape of the vehicle quickly approaching, headlights off with the driver using night vision gear to see.
Lewis ripped his goggles from his head and shoved them at Jane, who fumbled them on and raised her rifle to open fire. As she did he snatched up his radio and turned it on.