by Steven Bird
Taking a sharp left turn, Ed jumped across another fence, tripping, and falling on a child’s backyard toys upon landing. The soldiers gained ground on him as he struggled to regain his forward momentum. Ed heard other small-arms fire behind him and looked back to see several of the soldiers turning to return fire behind them. Must be the guys, he thought as he resumed his sprint through the backyard, jumping yet another fence.
As Ed made a sharp turn to the right, running in between two other houses, he heard the pursuing soldier’s footsteps gaining on him from behind as the soldier began shouting at him in Russian. Ed wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, but he knew the soldier was not simply trying to get him to stop running. He was out for vengeance and sought to get it tonight at Ed’s expense.
Unable to outrun the soldier, Ed reached for his zipper, hoping to be able to get to his revolver as he felt the hands of the soldier grab him from behind, tackling him to the ground. Sliding to a stop on his face in the tall uncut grass of the mostly abandoned neighborhood, Ed felt the soldier take him by the hair and begin to slam his face repeatedly into the ground.
Unable to get his hand into his jumpsuit to retrieve his weapon due to the overwhelming weight of the soldier who was now sitting on his back, Ed felt he had only moments to survive. Thoughts of Nate and his potential struggle home to Tennessee, alone, with no prosthetic or even a suitable crutch flashed through his mind as he felt his face become soaked with blood from both his nose and mouth as the soldier relentlessly pounded him into the ground.
The soldier then placed his hand on Ed’s shoulder, rolling him violently over onto his back. Ed could see the rage in the man’s eyes as he pulled his knife from the sheath on his belt, placing his free hand on Ed’s throat as he began to raise the blade high above his head.
Feeling himself losing consciousness from the tight grip the soldier had on his throat, Ed used his last ounce of energy to continue the fight. He reached into his jumpsuit, pulled the old Colt revolver from its holster, and while still inside his suit, he cocked the hammer and sent the 250-grain lead bullet crashing into the soldier's abdomen.
Feeling the soldier’s grip around his neck begin to loosen, Ed could see the look in the soldier’s eyes change from unrelenting rage to fear as he felt the man’s warm blood spill from his gut. As Ed watched the man’s life seemingly leave his eyes, the soldier fell onto his back, freeing Ed from his hold.
Ed immediately rolled away from the soldier, got on his knees and drew the Colt clear of his jumpsuit, aiming it at the man. He watched as he convulsed and shook violently, and then nothing. What one moment was uncontrollable rage and violence, had now become calm and silence.
Getting back to his feet, Ed turned his attention back to the direction from which his attackers came. He heard the sounds of footsteps rapidly moving toward him. He raised the old Colt and aimed it at the corner of the house, preparing to fire the remaining five shots at his pursuers as they rounded the corner.
As his target came into view, Ed immediately recognized Henry as he slid to a stop and shouted, “Whoa! Whoa, Ed. It’s just us. We took the others out from behind.” Looking over at the dead soldier, knife still in hand, Henry said, “The old Colt saved another life, I see.”
“Yes... yes, sir. It did,” Ed said as he de-cocked the pistol and slid it back into its holster.
“Take a cartridge out of your belt and top that cylinder off,” Henry said, pointing at the gun. “You never know when you’ll need all six.”
Chapter Twenty-Six: Link in the Chain
Walking into the kitchen for breakfast, Evan yawned and said, “That smells so good.” He walked up behind Molly, wrapped his arms around her from behind, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Good morning, love,” she said, smiling and thankful to have him home. “How did you sleep?”
“Great.” He poured himself a cup of the ladies’ homemade herbal tea. “I’m feeling a lot better. I think it’s high time I drop the light-duty routine and start helping out around here again.”
Molly looked gave him a disapproving look. “In my professional opinion as a former nurse, I think it’s too soon... but I guess I have to be thankful you took it easy this long. Okay, you have my permission.”
Evan chuckled and gave her another kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Good morning, Sarah,” he said, taking a sip of tea as she walked into the room.
“Good morning,” she replied.
“Did Jason get off to an early start with his hunting trip this morning?” Evan asked.
“Yes, he did, and you don’t need to use code speak, Evan. I know what he’s really doing. I’m not happy about him being out there right now, but I understand it’s necessary.”
“I’m just sorry I’m not with him,” Evan replied.
“By the way,” she added. “Mildred and the others at the Thomas farm sent you a get-well-soon radio message this morning. They said they hope to see you soon.”
“Oh, how nice. Thank you. I would love to get over that way when conditions permit. I kind of feel like I owe Judith a personal explanation of why we came back without Nate,” he said, looking out the window and losing himself for a moment in his own thoughts. “God, I hope they make it home soon. I feel... ah, never mind.”
Understanding the internal conflicts Evan and Jason both felt about the situation, Sarah patted Evan on the back and got on with the business of helping Molly with breakfast.
“Where are the kids?” he asked.
“They are studying their school work with Peggy. She’s really stepped up with the homeschooling. It helps Zack associate with the other children that way, too. He’s starting to make progress toward coming out of his shell.”
“Does he still have nightmares?” Evan asked, taking another sip.
“Yes, but not like before. He wakes up crying for Peggy, but he’s not in a total panic like before. He asks about Nate a lot, too,” Sarah said. “He doesn’t understand the extent of Nate’s relationship with his mother. I think he just feels that Nate is filling a void in his life.”
Feeling the guilt of returning without Nate build in his heart, Evan quickly changed the subject. “I’m gonna go check on some things,” he said and quickly left the room.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sarah said to Molly. “I didn’t mean to...”
“It’s okay,” Molly replied. “I know.”
~~~~
Sitting quietly on top of a ridge, providing overwatch for Charlie down below as he positioned and enabled the encrypted radio repeater, Jason scanned the skies around them, looking for signs of prying eyes from above. He brought with him an AR-10 in .308 Winchester from the Homefront’s arsenal, as his beloved Remington was no longer in his possession.
Once Charlie gave Jason the thumbs up, Jason returned the signal to let him know the coast was clear. Slipping off the ridge, Jason met back up with Charlie further down the trail, in the direction of home. “Is it online?” he asked.
“So far as I can tell,” Charlie replied. “There’s only one way to know though. How do you want to test it?”
“I’m not a communications expert, but from what I gathered from Q, when we transmit from one of the handheld units, the repeaters bounce the signal around in the network, making it difficult to DF the sender’s location. I imagine it’s possible, though, if someone is actively engaging in electronic intelligence and is close enough to pick up the signal directly from the handset.”
“But wouldn’t the relay from the repeaters throw it off?”
“Probably. Like I said, I’m no expert, but that makes sense. Unless, of course, the timing of the signals could be locked down in order to track the initial transmission, while ignoring the relays. I dunno,” Jason said, shrugging his shoulders. “There’s only one way to find out if it works, though, and that’s to give it a shot.”
Using the call sign given to him by Q that identified the Homefront to the Blue Ridge Militia radio operators
, Jason switched on the handset, pressed the talk key, and said, “Fox Three Two,” and released the key.
Waiting a moment, Jason began to press the talk key again to transmit a second time when he heard, “Fox One Two, bravo.” Looking at Charlie with a smile on his face, Jason then said, “Kilo India Lima Lima Echo Romeo.”
“Killer?” Charlie asked with curiosity.
Jason shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t make up the verification codes; they did.”
A reply came over the radio saying, “Copy Fox Three Two. Fox Three sends regards.”
“Sweet,” Jason said to Charlie with excitement.
“What?” Charlie asked, not being privy to the lingo.
“Quentin must have made it out of the cave that day!” Jason said in an elated voice. “He is Fox Three.”
“You need to share this info with me and the others. What if you got—you know—if something happened to you? How would the rest of us use the radios?”
“You’re right, Charlie. I’ll brief you up on the walk home.”
“Excellent,” Jason replied over the radio. “Updates?”
“Light activity.”
“Copy. Fox Three Two out.”
Receiving a double click of carrier only, with no voice, Jason understood their reply and switched off his radio to conserve the battery.
“That was the shortest conversation I’ve ever heard,” said Charlie.
“That’s the idea. Short and sweet. The longer you key up, the more time they have to DF your location and smoke you from above.”
“Oh, yeah. I see that now. So you... or we, are Fox Three Two?”
“Yeah, each group gets a mutual call sign. It would be too complicated to try to assign each individual their own. Quentin, or Q as he likes to be called, is Fox Three because he is the area field commander for Area Three of the militia’s areas of operation. Fox is the term for those out in the field or away from any type of HQ position that the militia can consider an asset or an ally.”
“What exactly is his role as a field commander?” asked Charlie.
“The Blue Ridge Militia are big on keeping themselves separate from a governmental force in any sense. Being firm believers in the concept of individuals standing together, rather than a group simply following orders, they don’t use traditional rank structures.
“Also, they don’t have permanent ranks. For example, in their field components, they have team members, team leaders, strike leaders, and field commanders. A team member is just that, a member of the team. He or she is not subservient to the person above them in position; they are simply there as a voluntary member of the team.
“A team leader is the person assigned to call the shots and to be the point of contact for a specific movement or operation of a team. It’s not a permanent rank or appointment. You only carry the title while carrying out the movement.
“A strike leader is the same thing, but they are in charge of, or rather represent, more than one team working in coordination for the accomplishment of a common goal. Again, it’s not a permanent position; you only wear the title while fulfilling the role. A specific operation can last a long period of time; however, so you may be in that position for the duration, but you aren’t seen as a superior to any individual like you would be in a traditional military sense.
“The field commander is responsible for the ongoing operations of an area. That position is held for more than one movement or operation for the sake of continuity. Again, there is no superiority of one man over another man; it’s simply a role that’s being filled. No permanent rank appointments and no social hierarchy.
“The only position above the local field commander is the militia commander, which is an elected position chosen by all of the militia members. Every man or woman is just another link in the chain. Their organizational structure basically looks like a circle, where all links in the chain form the unbroken circle, unlike the straight-line structure of the governmental military units.”
“Are we militia members, then, since we have a call sign?” Charlie asked, confused about the depth of the situation.
“I think Evan and I pretty much are. We’ve pledged to help hold down the fort here on this end of Area Three as well as be the eyes and ears out this way. They know you guys are all a part of us, though—that we all stand together as one out here.”
“Damn straight about that,” Charlie replied. “Based on their organizational structure, I like the way those guys think. Everyone on the same team, voluntarily, with no man having power over the other. Leading by mutual interest alone and not based on a superiority established by law.”
“Yeah, that’s how Evan and I felt when they explained it all to us back at the cave where Carl took us to meet up with Q.”
“As much as I like to think of us being up here in our own little world—as self-reliant as we are—it sure is nice to know we aren’t alone in the grand scheme of things.”
Jason nodded in agreement. “Yep. As long as people band together to do wrong, other people will have to band together to do right. Even if it’s just in a time of emergency or extreme hardship. In a perfect world, we wouldn’t need to. But this world, as well as any society the world has ever known, has been far from perfect.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven: New Beginnings
As the night passed, Nate feared for the safety of his dear friend, Ed. “So, how long do these runs usually take?” he asked Meredith.
“Henry is usually not in any sort of hurry. He always says rushing gets you killed. He prefers to take things slow. I try not to sit up and worry while waiting for him, but it never gets any easier knowing he’s out there alone. I do feel better knowing your friend is out there with him tonight, though,” she said, placing her hand on Nate’s shoulder with a smile.
“Yes, ma’am. Ed’s made it through a lot. He’s got me through a lot. I’m sure the two of them will be just fine. If something happened to Ed, I would be all alone again. I had quite the solo trip in the not-too-distant past, trying to make my way to Tennessee, and that was hard enough with both legs.”
“You lost your leg after the collapse?” she asked with a confused look.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, how on Earth did you manage to survive that? I mean... without our healthcare system being intact? Lots of people have died from much less lately.”
“I was blessed to be with the right people,” he said. “My brother was a medical student and the first stop on my journey was to find him. He was dating a doctor and working with an outstanding group of patriots back in Texas. He was—” Nate stopped as they both heard the back door to the house above them open.
“That’s not them,” she whispered.
“What? How... how do you know that?” Nate asked in a soft voice.
“I just do. I’ve sat down here many a night, analyzing every little sound while Henry has been away on his runs. I know every move that man makes, and I know how he makes them.”
“Do you have any other guns down here with us?” Nate asked, trying to get himself prepared for a fight.
Shaking her head no, she whispered, “No. They took the only two. I usually have the pistol, but Henry wanted Ed to be armed. All we have is an old Civil War replica sword he found while on a run one night, and a bat.” She then slipped behind the curtain and returned with both items.
The footsteps grew louder as the intruders were now directly above them in the bedroom. She and Nate stopped to listen. Nate reached out, took the sword, and said, “They must be looking around for stuff to steal.”
“Everybody around here knows there isn’t anything left in these houses. I don’t know who they hell they are, but I don’t have a good feeling about this,” she said, visibly shaking from fear.
“Go. Hide behind the curtain with the bat. I’ll hack their damn feet off if they try to get down here,” Nate said as he got down on his hands and knee to quietly work his way to the stairs, hiding alongside the wall. He then mot
ioned for her to turn out the light and go.
Doing as he asked, she extinguished the candle and disappeared into the total darkness of the room.
Nate waited silently as he strained to hear every footstep and sound from the room above. Clutching the sword, he tried to imagine exactly what he would do with it if such a thing came to pass. When the footsteps moved into the closet, Nate’s pulse raced as he prepared for what now seemed to be an inevitability; then he heard the boxes that Henry placed over the door being dragged out of the way. Damn it to hell, he thought. Why... why... why did they have to leave?
Hearing some faint mumbling above, unable to make out what they were saying, Nate could tell that they had found something of interest in the closet. Just then, the trap door was pulled from above, being stopped by the sliding bolt Henry had installed for Meredith to lock when he was away. The sound of Nate’s pounding heartbeat, which was nearly drowning out the faint sounds from above, was interrupted by an explosion of wood debris as fully automatic fire erupted, nearly disintegrating the old wooden trapdoor. Ricocheting bullets and bits of wood and brick bounced all over the room as the gunfire from above deflected off the old brick wall at the base of the steps.
Nearly as soon as the gunfire began, it ended with the sounds of two bodies falling to the floor like sacks of potatoes. After a moment of silence, Nate heard the terrified screams from Henry as he called out, “Meredith! Meredith! Are you okay?” followed by the sound of footsteps racing down to the basement below.
“Yes. Yes. Oh, my God, yes,” she shouted with tears in her eyes, running to his open arms as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “What the hell is going on? What happened?” she asked him through the tears and panic in her voice.
“No time to explain. Get your bug-out bag,” he said as he began tossing the remaining canned food into a sack.