Fire From The Sky | Book 12 | Embers

by Reed, N. C.

  “We’re thin there,” Clay admitted. “Covered and reinforced foxholes here, here and here,” Clay indicated. “Each has two people in them at present. They were meant for three, but we’re spread thin right this minute.”

  “Would you like us to reinforce that area?” Gleason asked, looking up from the map. Clay was shaking his head before the question was finished.

  “Negative. We need your men standing by as a reaction force. Between what’s in the field and what we have on defensive positions around the farm, your squad is all that’s left. I’ve got Jose and two others in a Hummer trying to get around the back way and see what the hell is going on. They should be getting close by now. Hopefully it will be good news.”

  -

  “Well, that can’t be good news,” Kevin Bodee said softly from the back seat as the Hummer carrying him, Jose, Tandi and Petra Shannon crested a small to find a ragged collection of ragged vehicles, horse drawn wagons and saddle horses on pickets. It hinted at a large number of people.

  “Damn,” Jose sighed. “Stop here,” he ordered Petra. She nodded and eased the big vehicle slightly off the road, partly concealing it.

  “Doc, on the gun,” Jose ordered after a minute of planning. “Arrow, you’re on me. We’ll move up enough to see if there’s anyone still around. If you guys come under attack, bug out and head back to the barn. We’ll make our own way home. Copy?”

  “Got it,” Tandi was already scrambling into the turret.

  “Keep a lookout for the kids, and for Gordy and his crew,” Jose reminded them. “This is near where they were set out, isn’t it?” As if to punctuate Jose’s statement, the sound of two rifle shots cut the cold, still air.

  “About a mile further along, yeah,” Kevin nodded, his head tilted as he tried to decide where the shots had come from. “They’re surely long gone by now,” he added, frowning.

  “Still out there, somewhere,” Jose shrugged. “Let’s go.”

  “Want us to try and raise Gordy on the radio from here?” Tandi asked. Jose had told them about the inability to contact Gordy earlier.

  “Not yet,” Jose shook his head. “We’ll stay quiet until we know the lay of the land, or until we hear them calling for help.” With a jerk of his head, he motioned Kevin to follow and eased into the woods, heading for the gaggle of vehicles and horses. He removed a suppressor from a pouch on his belt and attached it to his rifle. Kevin did the same, but then readied his bow.

  It was much quieter and just as deadly at short ranges in his expert hands. They’d be quiet for as long as possible.

  They had made it perhaps fifty yards when the sound of an M4 rattling off three-round bursts joined the two heavier rifles in the distance.

  -

  “Well, this is just getting better all the time, ain’t it?” Corey muttered as he changed magazines. Cold hands made it more difficult than usual. Now taking fire from three squad sized groups, they were effectively pinned in place.

  “How many of these guys are there, man?” Kurtis grumbled as he changed his own magazine.

  “Definitely more of them than there are of us,” Heath replied before taking another shot. “How are you guys fixed for ammo?” he asked after shooting.

  “I’ve got fifty rounds, counting the mag in the rifle,” Kurtis reported at once. It was nearly automatic for him to count his rounds as he fired.

  “I got a hundred and twenty-five rounds in five magazines, counting this one,” Corey tapped the newly inserted magazine in his M4. “I got three mags for my pistol, too.”

  “Yeah, I got that too,” Kurtis nodded. “Forgot about that. Ain’t used to having one,” he actually chuckled a bit.

  “Well, I’ve got forty-two rounds left, and that counts the mag I’m using, too,” Heath told them. “I’ve also got five total mags for my pistol, so there’s another forty, but I hate to let them get that close.”

  “I don’t think we’re ‘letting’ them do a damned thing,” Kurtis observed. “I wonder if Gordy managed to get us some help?”

  “Yeah, that’s a great question,” Corey agreed.

  “I’m sure Gordy’s doing all he can, knowing him,” Heath told them, just before taking another shot at an exposed attacker.

  “Forty-one rounds,” he added following the shot.

  -

  “Pancho reports multiple vehicles and horses along Baxter Road, south of us and slightly east of where the training mission started,” Leon told his uncle. “He can also hear what sounds like an M4 added to the heavier rifles, now.”

  “I heard it as well,” he told his nephew. “Sounds like problems are increasing. Get me Pancho on the horn, okay?”

  “Right here,” Leon held a mike up and Clay took it.

  “Pancho, this is Bossman. Any estimate on numbers based on what you see?”

  “Could be anywhere from fifty on up,” Pancho replied at once. “Got eight trucks, including one box truck and two pickups pulling trailers. Probably two dozen saddle horses, and at least five horse-drawn wagons that I can see. I can see at least one car, as well, and a tractor pulling a four-wheel trailer. There is no way to know how many people rode here in those rigs, Boss.”

  Too many for four people and a Hummer, Clay decided. And they weren’t all, he reminded himself.

  “Copy all, Pancho. Be advised the training group is safe at Plum outpost. Abandon your scout and see if you can find our wayward chicks. Take a deceptive course and leave them at the Plum outpost to bolster their numbers. Then get back here. Note we also have a threat along the interstate.”

  “Roger that,” Pancho sounded as if he were running while responding.

  “Bossman, clear,” Clay returned the mike to his nephew, then scrubbed his face with his hands.

  “Hell of a morning, ain’t it, Boss?” Leon said quietly, with none of the mirth he would normally have used.

  “Ain’t it just?” his uncle gave a single, short chuckle at that. “Ain’t it just.”

  -

  “Who the hell are these people?” Kevin Bodee wanted to know as he and Jose clambered back into the Hummer.

  “Good question,” Jose nodded once. “I think that box truck is the one Jordan got when that bunch down south attacked us. The other vehicles I don’t recognize, but none of them really stand out. I can’t even begin to identify the horses.”

  “Must be the whole town attacking us, then,” Kevin muttered.

  “Or else someone already kicked their ass and took that truck,” Jose replied. “Got no way to know any of that. Petra, we’re going to look for Gordy’s crew. Kevin will take you to where they let the kids out and we’ll start looking there. You up for this?” he asked the young woman who had never really been under fire like this.

  “Eat it with a spoon,” she replied at once. “Seriously, I got this,” she added when Pancho didn’t immediately say anything.

  “Good deal then. Let’s get it on.”

  -

  “Sir,” Faron Gillis heard from below. He looked down at Raven Elliot, once more standing at the step to the turret.

  “What’cha got, Raven?” he asked her. It was terribly unprofessional, but they were probably going to be in combat soon anyway.

  “Corporal Tanner reports armed men and women emerging from the tree line across from his position. Sir, he is north of the interchange,” she added, for information. Gillis knew where everyone he was commanding this morning was, but held his tongue, anyway.

  “Very well,” he nodded. “Nothing on the south side?”

  “Not as yet, sir,” she shook her head.

  “Radio,” he ordered, holding his hand out to her. She immediately placed the microphone in his hand.

  “Tanner, you copy?” Again, it was sloppy, but he didn’t have time to do it ‘Army’, considering the mess he was sitting in.

  “Yes, sir,” Tanner replied immediately.

  “Let them get on to the highway and then light ‘em up,” Gillis ordered without even a twinge of conscience.
These people were attacking the only place he had to lay his head or feed his hunger. The only home he and the people under his command had left.

  “Roger that, sir.” Tanner didn’t seem to have any problems with it, either.

  “All line units, be advised we’re about to be engaged on our northern flank and front,” Gillis announced to the others. “Be prepared in case more come rushing at us, and we are weapons free at this point onward. All units acknowledge.” He handed the radio back to Elliot, trusting that she would ensure that everyone checked in.

  He was certain now that they were about to be engaged. The question was, how many enemies there would be, and how well armed and trained were they? He knew he and his people would find that out soon enough.

  The hard way.

  CHAPTER SIX

  It was bound to happen. There was too much lead flying in the air and too few targets for it. Corey was the first.

  “New line coming from behi-,” his warning was cut off by a heavy grunt as the teen soldier fell forward, suddenly gasping for air.

  “Corey?” Heath looked around to see his friend looking right at him, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

  “Corey!” Heath shouted, moving to check on his friend.

  “Th-third t-t-time cha-arm, huh?” Corey gave him a bloody toothed smile before losing consciousness. Heath frantically grabbed his friend’s trauma bandage even as he looked for the wound.

  “Heath don’t profile yourself-” Kurtis warned, but no sooner had he got the words out than Heath slumped away from Corey and onto the ground. A dark scoring had appeared on his helmet and blood was flowing from his left arm.

  “Damn it!” Kurtis exclaimed, crawling along the ground to Corey’s rifle, dropped from hands that had stopped responding to their owner. He grabbed the M4 and dialed the selector to ‘auto’. Holding the trigger down, he allowed the weapon to spray the closest group to his position before fumbling a new magazine from Corey’s bloody gear. Letting the bolt slam on a new round, he took the time to key his small radio in hopes someone was listening.

  “This is Cowboy! Ray and Whisper are down! Repeat, Ray and Whisper are down! We’re on a small ridge roughly three miles due east of the Plum House with hostiles on three sides in unknown numbers!”

  His one Hail Mary thrown, he pulled his own rifle closer before turning Corey’s M4 on the next group, giving them a reason to keep their heads down.

  -

  Gordy tried to push his fear for Corey and Heath down to a manageable level as he ran. He had to use some caution running in the icy, unfamiliar woods, but he tossed as much of it to the wind as he could risk.

  As he ran, his subconscious cursed and flailed at all the things that were going wrong, starting with their radio problems. That made him remember that he had taken a new radio from the Plum House, which he now grabbed.

  “This is Chip. I’m on my way back from the Plum House. Cowboy says that Ray and Whisper are both down. Our position was about one mile from White Oak Pond in Pasture Eleven, on a small ridge overlooking the hay field there. We need medical and transport ASAP. Be advised their position is still under attack. Anyone read me?”

  “Chip, this is Pancho. We’re cutting across the fields trying to get to your position. Your location intel helps. We’re moving as fast as we can. Doc is with us. Copy?”

  “Copy,” was Gordy’s one word reply. He relief at hearing Pancho’s voice was palpable. Hearing that Doc was along was even better news. Knowing that his friends had help coming, Gordy returned his attention to trying to reach them as quickly as possible.

  -

  “Where the hell is White Oak Pond?” Petra Shannon demanded, her foot easing off the accelerator as she looked around her.

  “Turn left, toward that clump of trees,” Kevin Bodee pointed over her shoulder. “Pasture Eleven is that way, maybe a mile-and-a-half. Should be able to see it from there.” With that he clambered into the turret and began to ready the M240 machine gun atop their ride.

  “We need to get there as quick as we can,” Doc said as he inspected his bag. Pancho thought that was a needless observation but knew that his friend was already considering what he might find and how to deal with it, so let it pass.

  “Fast as you can, Petra,” he urged his driver instead. She nodded, flooring the big vehicle now that she knew at least roughly where she was going.

  -

  “Uh, Clay?” Leon said softly once the radio had gone silent again.

  “Yeah?”

  “I know we’re all busy and stuff, but…maybe somebody needs to tell Leanne what’s happening? I mean, before she hears it some other way?”

  Clay froze at that. He was already concerned at the news that two of his young men were wounded, but the jolting reminder that one was his niece’s boyfriend ratcheted that up to a new level.

  “We should wait until we know something other than he’s down,” Clay finally replied, his voice soft. “Until then, we don’t know anything good or bad.”

  “Okay,” Leon acquiesced at once, though his tone told Clay all he needed to know about his nephew’s opinion of his decision.

  It wasn’t that Clay didn’t agree, because he mostly did. But what if they warned her Heath was hurt and his injury was minor? Worse, what if they assured her that he was fine, but he wasn’t? No, this was better. Not preferable, maybe, but better.

  Meantime, he had to put it out of his mind and work the problem in front of him. Gordy was on his way back and Pancho would be there soon with help, including Doc. That would have to do.

  “Operations, this is Gunner,” Clay heard in the background and closed his eyes for just a few seconds, praying his decision was the best one.

  -

  “I heard Gordy for just a second,” Greg mentioned as Zach moved down their small line.

  “Me, too,” Zach nodded. “Sounds like Corey and Heath are in trouble, maybe.”

  “You hear Pancho?” Greg asked, getting a nod in return. “Well, Doc is with him, and they’re in a Hummer. They’ll be there soon.”

  “Yeah,” Zach nodded slowly, looking at the woods before them. “Where did all these people come from, I wonder?”

  “No idea,” Greg shrugged. “Sounds too organized for Jordan, doesn’t it?”

  “Not if the surviving soldiers are on their side, it doesn’t,” Zach caught Greg by surprise.

  “I honestly hadn’t thought of that,” Greg admitted. “That might just swing things in their favor, sure enough.”

  “Makes me wonder what kind of gear they’ll be carrying,” Zach speculated. “They could have-,” He stopped abruptly, lowering his head. Greg followed his gaze and saw immediately what had gotten his attention.

  “Damn,” Greg muttered even as he started counting. Zach was counting too, and when he reached thirty, he stopped, reaching for his radio.

  “Operations, this is Gunner.”

  “Operations, go,” Leon’s tone was clipped.

  “Be advised we’re looking at thirty, that is three-zero hostiles emerging from the woods to our front. Count is now three-three and rising. Estimated range roughly one hundred fifty meters.”

  “Roger that, Gunner,” Clay’s voice came back this time. “Be advised I’m spinning up some help for you. Engage at your discretion. Further, know that we’re looking at a similar attack along the interstate, and dealing with the initial contact back to the west.”

  “Trying to spread us out,” Zach nodded as he replied. “Roger that. Gunner clear.”

  “Operations clear. Standing by.”

  -

  “Red, I need you at Operations, on the double,” Clay spoke into his own radio as he stepped outside.

  “On my way,” Xavier’s cultured voice replied. Clay looked to where Gleason was standing, listening to the battle.

  “Sarge, I need three of your men to go with X,” he told the NCO. “I want them to take the M-RAP six-wheel in T3 and reinforce our southern position where Mitch and Greg ar
e.”

  “Roger that, sir,” Gleason nodded at once. “Howard! Brigham! Hathoway! Building Three, right now! Ready the Cougar there for action! Mister Adair will be in command!”

  The trio replied at once, moving at a jog toward their destination before Gleason was done speaking. Before they could make it all the way, Xavier was standing beside Clay.

  “You heard?” Clay asked.

  “Indeed,” Xavier nodded calmly. “Orders?”

  “Reinforce the position and hold it, if possible,” Clay said simply. “If not, get everyone aboard and back to a defensible position and try again. I doubt we can send anyone else without leaving us weak elsewhere.”

  “Then we shall just have to be sufficient,” Xavier acknowledged, already on his way. Clay wished he could go himself, but then he’d want to go check on Gordy, and then he’d want to see the interstate, and then there’s be something else he’d feel the need to check. He had to trust the people he’d placed in charge. They were trained, experienced, and knew their business.

  He didn’t like it, but there were a great many things he didn’t like, and there were few of them he could change.

  -

  Gordy’s breathing was slightly labored as he approached the last known position of his friends. Gunfire was popping in the distance, usually three-round bursts or full-auto fire, punctuated on occasion by the booming of a heavy rifle. He hoped that one of those was Kurtis, or maybe even Heath.

  Topping the small rise, Gordy observed at least a dozen people moving against the small ridge, none of them even bothering to look his way. Going to ground, Gordy brought his rifle up and sent a three-round burst at the nearest figure. Seeing that one fall, he automatically moved to the next, and then the next.

  Behind him, he could vaguely hear an approaching vehicle bouncing across the fields and hoped it was Pancho and the others. If it wasn’t, then this was going to be a short fight.

  -

  The Hummer was bouncing alright, literally lifting off the ground every few feet as Petra Shannon kept the big vehicle hammering flat out, attempting to get to the others before they were beyond help.