by Josh Hilden
“Alright, Captain,” Clay had been passing out rank since the beginning, and it had finally stuck on everyone. “It’s your show, I’m just here to look tough and not smile.”
Kyle laughed and the two men approached figures that’d broken away from the group around the Bradleys. This was the moment where everything could go wrong, or where all the pieces could line up the right way, and maybe the universe would give them a break for a change.
Kyle could smell it in the air, big things were about to happen, the only question was whether or not they were things that he wanted to happen or not.
3
On the Mackinaw Bridge
Upper Michigan
November 22, 2012 AD (Day Thirty Five)
7:30am EST
The winds whipping off the lake far below were damn near killing cold in their intensity. It was already been a cold fall, and the winter fast closing on them looked as if it would be even more brutal than normal. Lt. Colonel Lisa Sutton and one of the White Harbor Militia troops approached the two figures that’d begun the walk from the southern end of the bridge.
She watched as the smaller of the two stumbled in the snow, and then the larger man stopped him from falling. A few seconds later they were both laughing. Lisa’s people had been monitoring their scrambled communications, and a visual inspection showed the group on the far side of the bridge was large and extremely well-armed.
But they were approaching with a white flag waving, and so she’d decided they needed to risk it. Sam was irate, and demanded he be the one to be exposed to the danger. But Lisa overrode him. Now he was waiting for either the all clear signal or the signal to attack. That signal would most likely involve her death and they both knew it.
“Follow my lead,” she said to the young kid accompanying her. His name was Riley Skeels, and he’d been on the White Harbor Varsity Baseball team before the Rising of the Dead. When she selected people to come south and try to seal off the bridge, and gather intelligence about the goings on in the glove, his name was near the top. During the initial outbreak, he’d fought off more than 50 of the Dead while he carried his paraplegic mother the 10 miles from their farmhouse to the town.
Everyone said the kid was tough.
“Yes, Colonel,” he said, and shifted the M-1 Carbine he’d been issued as part of the Militia from his shoulder to his arms.
They cleared the rest of the distance in silence. When they were 20 feet from the two men from the South, they stopped, as did the others. Both pairs of people madness eyed each other up and down. Lisa expected the larger and older man to speak first. And was surprised when the young, but definitely hardened and authoritative, man stepped forward.
“My name is Kyle Carson and I am the senior Captain of the I-75 Rangers. This is Command Sergeant Major Clay Sanford.” The larger man nodded respectfully, never allowing his rifle to twitch.
“I am Lt. Colonel Lisa Sutton of the United States Army. I am the commanding officer of the 1st Michigan Emergency Response Unit and the White Harbor Militia.” She gestured to her companion, “and this is Corporal Riley Skeels of the White Harbor Militia.” When she finished, she noticed the two men were staring at her. For a second she wondered if she had something between her teeth. Then Kyle spoke.
“You came from White Harbor?” He asked her, and she was a little offended that he sounded as if he didn’t believe her.
“Yes,” she said but revealed nothing else to them. They seemed like they weren’t bandits, but in this day and age you did not run around giving out vital information to strangers. “Why do you ask?”
“We are heading for the White River Military Base.” He said and gave her a quizzical look.
“I’m acquainted with White River. Some of my people are there right now.” She was a little startled by this.
“Ma’am, I think that you need to talk to somebody else.” He said, and without being asked Sgt. Sanford began speaking into a radio.
4
8:10am EST
Liam Harrison exited the Humvee and walked toward the woman standing with Kyle and Clay. She stared at him as he advanced, with his cane rapidly marking his progress. He had the unnerving feeling she knew exactly who he was. Liam definitely did not like being on the short end of the information stick. When he finally cleared the distance, and was within the conversation sphere, he realized the woman in the field jacket was not the only one looking at him oddly. Clay and Kyle were doing the same thing. And was he crazy, or was Kyle badly suppressing a grin?
He looked right at Kyle, “Well, what the hell is so important, Captain, that I need to drag my ass out here in the cold?” It was the same tone he used in Vietnam. He was shocked sometimes when things like that popped out unbidden.
“Are you Liam Harrison?” The woman asked before Kyle could respond, and in a tone and voice which definitely resonated with Liam.
“And if I am, what business is it of yours?” He snapped back.
Instead of getting upset, she smiled at him, and that completely threw him off his game. “Well if you are Liam Harrison, then your Daughter and your Grandson say Hi.” And then she laughed out loud as his jaw nearly hit the ground.
5
9:05am EST
The bus that the Wolverines used as their command vehicle was more comfortable than Liam imagined when he saw the white and brown monstrosity. He and Clay accompanied Lisa Sutton to the other end, while Kyle went back to the South end to get the Rangers ready to move at his signal. The cabin was warm, and they had hot coffee ready for them when they entered.
Lisa and Sam sat on one side of the space, and Liam and Clay occupied the other. There was still tension in the air, but it was less than it’d been when they met on the bridge. When all of the other people on the bus vacated, the four people stared at each other until finally Liam asked.
“Are my Daughter and Grandson alright, Colonel?” he asked Lisa.
“They are fine, General. They are both back at White Harbor helping with preparations to defend the town.” She was looking at him and gauging what to say next. Nancy told her that while Liam was less than pleased when she told him that she was a lesbian, he’d not disowned her or tried to convince her that it was just a phase. Both were things her own mother had done on numerous occasions. Still, how would the tough old man react to the reality of the situation?
“In fact they are more than fine General.” She let that hang for a second to see how he would proceed. She could not have predicted his reaction.
He sighed and then asked, “Are the two of you together?” bluntly. She’d thought he would get mad, or at the least ignore the hook she put out there for him.
“Yes we are, General, is that going to be a problem?” She wanted to be on good terms with this battered warrior, if for no other reason than Nancy loved him. But she was an honest woman, and she needed to know what he thought.
“Do you love her…do you love Charlie?” he asked and now he was very quiet.
“Yes, with all my heart.” She felt something significant pass between them, and then he rose and offered her his calloused hand.
“My name is Liam, but I guess you could call me Dad.” He said. And instead of taking his hand she got up and hugged him.
6
5:45pm EST
The commanders of the groups decided to meet on the north end of the bridge to discuss the situation. As they were gathering, Lisa saw someone she was sure she’d met before. She did a double take. The last time she’d seen the young man was back in Hession. He’d been fresh faced and full of hope, now he looked older than his years.
“Ken?” She asked the young man hesitantly.
He turned from Sgt. Sanford and looked directly at Lisa. “Hello Doctor Sutton. I’m relieved to see that you and your people made it here ahead of the Army of the Dead.” There was little if any emotion in Ken Michener’s voice or his eyes.
“We heard that Hession had fallen.” She began, and then asked the question that had been bo
uncing around in her head since the first of the Hession refugees had crossed the bridge. “What happened to Estelle?” She asked.
“Mrs. Landry died buying time for most of us to get away. I’m in charge now.” He said flatly.
“How many of you made it out of Hession?” She asked.
“Almost 1,000 of us survived the assault, 300 of us have gathered here, and I am sending them onward. I have less than 50 fighters with me.” He didn’t ask permission to send his people over, his tone said it all. They were crossing the bridge one way or another.
There was a signal from an old gas station being used for a rally point. The meeting was beginning. Lisa and Ken headed toward the building. Everyone knew their future might be decided here.
When they were gathered, Lisa stepped into the middle of the circle of leaders and started talking. “I’m Lt. Colonel Lisa Sutton. I represent the residents in White Harbor, Michigan.”
Liam stepped up next, “I am Liam Harrison, former Deputy Director of the National Security Agency and co-commander of the I-75 Rangers.”
Ken stood up without being asked and spoke. ”I am Lt. Ken Michener of the Hession Spotters. I am in charge of the survivors of the Hession Compound.”
Kyle was the last to stand, and the 30 plus people in the room were staring at him. He felt nervous and his stomach was boiling but he continued onward. “My name is Kyle Carson and I am the Field Commander of the Rangers.”
When the introductions were out of the way, they began discussing the situation. The people from White Harbor wanted to barricade the bridge, and leave a blocking force to hold off the Army of the Dead, and concentrate on moving to Isle Royale. The people from Hession wanted revenge, they were advocating a full on assault on the Army. Ken kept his opinions to himself as his people spoke. And finally the Rangers spoke up, and what they had to say silenced the room.
Jennifer Millette stood up and walked to the front of the room. “I’m Jennifer Millette and I am one of the officers in the Rangers.” She riffled through some papers and then continued speaking. “We had not planned on finding allies here at the bridge, and we have devised a plan for dealing with this backdoor into the Peninsula. While we were rooting through a construction yard outside of Toledo, Ohio, we came across a pallet of Symtex. For those of you who are not familiar with the product, it is new and more explosive version of C-4 plastic explosive. It is heavily used in demolition, and the packing slip said that it was destined for Chicago. What we propose is fighting a holding action on the bridge, slowly falling back to allow the Army of the Dead and their human leaders to spread out along the span.” She looked every one of them in the eye before she delivered the kick to the groin. “And then, my friends, we blow it to hell!”
The room erupted in yells of anger and disbelief. The discussion went on for three more hours, and then it was settled. All of the Hession and Ranger non-combatants, along with a portion of the fighting force, would be sent back to White Harbor to assist with the evacuation, while the rest of them would remain here to try and stop, or at least delay, the Army.
7
11:45pm EST
“Why the fuck do you need to stay here and I have to go to the town? I want to fight!” Jennifer hissed at her husband as they worked side by side reloading the vehicles that would be heading back to White Harbor. She was mad and he knew it.
“Kelly needs me here to help her pull this off. I understand the structure of the bridge, and I know where to plant the explosives. I would feel a hell of a lot better if you and the baby were far away from here when things went down.” He played the baby card, and there was very little she could say to refute that. It made her even madder.
“You can’t shoot for shit and you are barely competent with the Pike. I swear to Christ, Benjamin, sometimes I think you are going to take your fucking foot off with the thing!” Now she was screaming, and the people in the vicinity did their best to pretend that they couldn’t hear the fight.
Ben was normally passive, and had learned it was best to let Jennifer run through her emotions before he tried to talk to her. This time they didn’t have the luxury of allowing that routine to play out. He rounded on her, and in a tight but angered voice he replied to her. “Think about somebody other than yourself for a fucking change! If I die only I die, but if you die, Tina dies with you!” And this time he was jabbing his finger at her.
For the first time in a long time, Jennifer Millette the warrior chieftainess in the making, who used to be Jennifer Carson the semi-spoiled suburban girl, surrendered. “Alright,” she whispered with her eyes cast down, but when she turned them back on her husband tears were flowing down her cheeks. “But if you don’t come back, I will hunt you down and kill you!” Then she grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce embrace.
“I love you babe,” he said and stroked her hair.
“I love you too,” she whispered back.
8
The Foot of the Mackinaw Bridge
Lower Michigan
November 23, 2012 AD (Day Thirty Six)
5:00am EST
He sat in the tree with a pair of binoculars and was aware of the ironic symmetry of his current situation. Lt. Ken Michener volunteered his people to watch the southern end of the bridge for the approach of the Army of the Dead. Less than half of the people who made it out of the Hession Compound made the rendezvous here at the bridge. The bulk of the survivors, Ken’s group included, hooked up with the Rangers before reaching the bridge. In an abstract way, he hoped the remainder of the people had made it to a safe place, but right now he couldn’t dwell on it. Right now he had a job to do.
“Eagle One this is Raven, over.” Candace Troutman’s voice called in his earpiece. They’d become lovers during the journey North, and he’d wanted to send her with the noncombatants to White Harbor, but she was the best shot he’d ever known.
“Raven, this is Eagle One go ahead, over.” He replied.
“Ken, I can see what looks like the lead elements of the enemy. I count 32 unfrozen Dead approaching, over.”
The Dead in the thrall of the dark priest and his minions did not freeze in the cold. This made him more afraid then the Dead walking in the first place. But he shook it off. They had a very important responsibility. A dozen of the Spotters and a mixed force of Militia fighters were to put up a convincing fight at the foot of the bridge. Then when the bulk of the army was visible, they were to retreat to the bridge’s head.
They absolutely had to hold as long as they could.
“Eagle Squad, this is Eagle One, the enemy is in sight. Prepare for combat.” He paused and remembered the face of Estelle Landry, brave and defiant till the very end. “Good luck and God speed people, over.”
9
The Head of the Mackinaw Bridge
Upper Michigan
November 23, 2012 AD (Day Thirty Six)
5:20am EST
The word came from the foot of the bridge, the enemy was in sight. It was controlled chaos at the head as everyone rushed to dig in and prepare for the fight that would follow. The charges were set inside of the towers holding the span up across the five miles of the Mackinaw Straits.
Under Kelly’s direction, Benny led the teams into the dark holes used to service the interior superstructure of the bridge. Like the fabled “Tunnel Rats” who’d chased the Viet Cong into their warrens and networks of tunnels all over Southeast Asia, they’d been forced to clear the bolt holes of Dead people who’d thought they would be safe down there.
“The charges are set, Old Man.” Benny said to Liam Harrison. He’d just brought his sappers back to the fortifications once used by the Michigan National Guard in their attempts to keep the Dead from crossing the bridge.