Autumn (Four Seasons Book 1)

by Robert Sullivan

  Ashley nodded. “There has been a lot of talk online about that. They want us to prove ourselves in a very public fashion, not just Zach tagging along with an Army mission. They want to see if we can do something by ourselves.”

  “We’ll give them something. We just need to prove ourselves,” Greg said, lying back and looking up at the ceiling of the tent.

  “Greg, can I ask you something?” Ashley queried.

  “What would you like to know?” Greg asked.

  “What do you think of…well, us?”

  Greg turned to face Ashley. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I mean we’ve kind of been going out for a few months now…and we’ve kind of been living together for the past few weeks…I was just thinking…are we in a relationship?” Ashley ventured.

  Greg looked her straight in the eye. “You know, I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean, I’ve gotten used to you being there for me, but I never thought about thinking of you as my girlfriend. I don’t mean that in a bad way,” he added quickly. “I mean, I didn’t think about it because I guess subconsciously I had thought of you that way for a while.”

  “Since when?” Ashley asked.

  “The night we kissed,” Greg said.

  Ashley leaned over, drawing close to his face. “I’ve thought of you as my boyfriend since then too.”

  “So…we’re in a relationship then?” Greg asked.

  “I think that we are,” Ashley said, smiling. She leaned over all the way and kissed him.

  Greg deeply enjoyed the kiss. When she drew away, Greg looked into her green eyes and said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t clear with you before. I…I love you, Ashley,” he said.

  Ashley looked surprised, but smiled wide and said, “I love you too, Greg.”

  Greg dug his arm out of the sleeping bag and grabbed Ashley’s hand. For the first time in years, he felt the peace of knowing he had someone to love and the idea brought him peace, even with the idea of the war games and very slight feelings for Veronica hanging in the back of his mind. In that moment, Greg did not feel afraid of anything, not even the Black Hand.

  The next morning, Greg was woken suddenly by the sound of an air horn blaring through the trees. He sat up and blearily said, “What the fuck?” as the noise continued.

  Ashley did not open her eyes, but rolled over and pulled her pillow over her head. Greg got up and peered out of his tent, looking for the source of the disturbance. It did not take him long to find; Zach was walking through the camp with two air horns in his hands, blaring them as loudly as he could. “Rise and shine!” he shouted.

  Greg wanted to make a biting comment, but resisted the urge and got dressed. He was soon out of his tent in the warm morning air as the others began to stumble out of their tents as well. Like many of the others there, Greg was not used to being up that early and the muggy warm air was not helping either. He walked over to Zach and said, “Was this really necessary?”

  “Well, just shouting didn’t work,” Zach said. “I started this process ten minutes ago. Does nobody here know the concept of getting up early?”

  “I don’t think so,” Greg said, looking at the others and noticing that most of them were yawning widely. “When’s breakfast?”

  “In a minute, I just want to tell everyone what we’re doing today,” Zach said.

  “Alright everyone, listen up. I’m going to feed you here in a minute, but before that, you’re going to know what’s coming up after that. Up that trail about two miles, my men have set up a fighting field. In this field, you will break into teams of four and grab a paintball gun. Two teams will go into the field at a time and work to eliminate the other team,” Zach barked.

  “I thought we were going to practice with real guns today,” someone said.

  Zach glared at him and said, “You can’t have just one day of holding a gun and think you’re ready to fire a real one. Fortunately, paintball guns are a good substation for an actual firearm so you can at least have practice firing something before we use the real rifles tomorrow.”

  “Now eat up. I want to be on the trail in one hour!” Zach finished, pointing in the direction of where the food was.

  Following the hearty breakfast, Zach led his troops and the trainees down the trail. It was a difficult hike, as the trail was overgrown in several areas and the heat of the day was already beginning to build. Much to Zach’s annoyance, it took a good forty-five minutes to get to the fighting grounds.

  Greg could not help but be impressed at the setup. There was netting surrounding a clearing that was the size of a football field. Within the netting, a number of artificial obstacles had been set up to provide cover for the fighting. Before Greg could really appreciate it, however, Zach shouted, “Get in your teams!”

  Greg looked around wildly and saw Eric coming over with two other men who looked of college age. “Greg, this is Aaron and Kent. They used to go with school with me and kind of fell into my spy ring when I, um, asked strongly.”

  “You mean blackmailed us,” Kent said, annoyed. “I mean it wouldn’t have been hard to convince me to fall in, but you were not nice about it.”

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Eric said with a twisted smile. “Greg do you know how to shoot?”

  “Not really,” Greg said.

  “That’s fine, the three of us have had some practice,” Eric said. “Really for us this was about getting practice working as a unit. Let’s line up.”

  The trainees had formed the teams and the first two were being given their paintball guns. They entered the netting and went to opposite sides of the field to wait for Zach’s signal.

  “What if they don’t know how to fight?” Greg asked him.

  “This is a learning experience for them,” Zach said. “And for us too. I’ve got cameras all over this place so we can see who the natural leaders are for NCO positions in our militia.”

  Greg looked around the field and could indeed see cameras in the area. “I can’t believe you thought of all of this in ten days.”

  “I come prepared,” Zach said. He pulled a whistle up to his mouth and blew into it, indicating the start of the match.

  Zach had wanted to set up a tournament of sorts with the teams that were formed. Teams that advanced further would be considered for higher ranking positions in the Conspiracy Battalion, even as far as Captain if they really proved themselves. The first two teams in the fight were clearly unorganized and did not communicate well, drawing out the fight.

  Zach was yelling at them the entire time as he prowled around the edge of the field. He extolled the teams to work together and communicate. By luck, one of the teams managed to eliminate the other, but Zach was furious because one person had taken it upon himself to win singlehandedly.

  “You were supposed to work as a team!” Zach roared. “This isn’t a time to be showboating by yourself, because that kind of bullshit will get you killed in a real firefight! Fuck off to the end of the line!”

  Greg watched as other teams partook in the fight. One in particular worked as a cohesive unit, soundly winning a match. As they were exiting the field, Zach pointed at them and shouted, “Those four are going to end up being officers one day! They actually seem to know what the fuck they are actually doing! Greg, Eric, get the fuck in there!”

  Greg was taken aback that he had been called out, but obliged to Zach’s demand and followed the other three in. He went to the far side of the field and gathered his team around him. “What’s our plan?” Greg asked.

  Eric glowered at him and said, “You’re the leader of the whole fucking Conspiracy. You tell us what the fuck to do.”

  “I’ve never been in a fight like this,” Greg shot back.

  The whistle suddenly blew and the four of them ducked behind cover as a hail of paintballs flew by them. “Greg! Don’t hide like a coward! LEAD!” Zach shouted.

  “Fuck off, Zach,” Greg muttered under his breath. He peered around an obstacle and observed the
fighting field ahead of them. He could not see their assailants, but even peeking his head out drew a hail of paintballs. Greg quickly withdrew before he could get hit.

  “Goddamn it, Greg!” Eric shouted.

  “What the fuck do you want me to do?!” Greg demanded.

  “QUIT ARGUING AND FIGHT BACK!!” Zach roared in disgust.

  Greg took a steadying breath and said, “Okay, who can sneak the best?”

  “Kent,” Eric and Aaron said in unison.

  “Okay, here’s the plan,” Greg said, thinking quickly. “We lay down some paint to distract them while Kent sneaks around on that far side to get around their side. Who’s the best shot?”

  “I am,” Aaron said.

  “Good, can you see if you can keep them pinned to help Kent,” Greg said. “Eric, I want you to be a spotter to locate the other team and relay the information to the others.”

  “Got it,” Eric said. He rolled out from behind his rock, kept his body to the ground, and looked ahead, saying, “I’ve got two hostiles together behind those two trees up there.”

  “Go ahead, Aaron,” Greg said, firing in that general direction to draw the paint away.

  Aaron took a deep breath and raised his paintball gun. He located the two opponents that Eric had spotted and fired on them while Kent snuck away on the left side of the field. Aaron hit one of them, forcing her to raise her arm in surrender before trudging off the field.

  Greg looked around to see where the other two opponents were, as the third had retreated to better cover after her friend went out. He fell in behind his rock, turned to Eric, and said, “Have you seen the other two at all?”

  “No, but Kent might have a location on them soon enough,” Eric said, lifting his paintball gun over his head and firing wildly over the rock.

  “Hopefully he can just take them out,” Greg said, looking over at Aaron, who had stopped firing since his target had disappeared.

  “Do you want to advance a little bit?” Eric asked.

  “Yeah, give me some covering fire. Call out any targets if you see one,” Greg said.

  Eric nodded and laid down a barrage in the direction of the opponents. Greg rolled out from behind his rock and crouched, moving up to the next obstacle to hide behind. He made it safely, without drawing any paint. He peered around the obstacle to get his new bearings and spotted one of the opponents’ legs sticking out.

  Greg did not want to blow his new position and simply fired on the person himself. It took several paintballs, but he landed a hit and forced the opponent to retreat out of the field. Eric saw what happened and shouted, “Good shot! Didn’t see that one!”

  “Thanks,” Greg said. He looked ahead to see if there was anyone else. No one was there though, including Kent. “Why don’t we continue to advance cautiously. There’s only two of them left at this point so we can overpower them.”

  “Good call,” Eric said. “Aaron, let’s go!”

  The three of them advanced slowly, looking around carefully to see if they could see either of their two remaining opponents or Kent. There was no sign of any of them, nor was there any paint being fired from what they could hear. Zach was no longer shouting at them, perhaps trying to keep the battle between the six of them and not give away their position.

  Greg suddenly hear paint being fired from the back-left corner of the field. He ducked down instinctively, but the paint was not aimed at him. He looked up and noticed that Kent had reappeared and had fired on one of the remaining two opponents. He knocked him out, leaving only one left.

  Kent suddenly raised his hand in surrender; he had been shot with paint. Greg looked around wildly, looking in the direction of where the paint had come from. More paint flew out, striking Eric and forcing him out of the match. Greg and Aaron, took cover on opposite sides of the field, looking for their assailant.

  Aaron suddenly fired in the direction of where the paint had been coming from. He did not hit their target though and he was forced out when their opponent managed to hit him back. Greg did not panic, however, he had seen their assailant come out of her hiding spot to shoot at Aaron. He snuck around behind her and shot at point blank range, forcing her to surrender.

  There was some mild clapping around the outside of the field. “Yeah, great job Greg,” Zach said, clearly being sarcastic. “You managed to eliminate the enemy at a 75% casualty rate to your side. DO IT AGAIN!”

  Zach made Greg fight five more times until he finally avoided taking any casualties in winning. Greg was thoroughly annoyed by the whole experience and retreated back up towards the camp first before anyone else. It was late in the afternoon at this point and Greg was very hungry, irritable, and sore from the paintball welts.

  Greg noticed that Zach’s soldiers were preparing dinner for the trainees upon their return. He was not in the mood to talk to them, however, and made his way to his tent and fell in. Ashley was in there, sitting on her cot and reading a book. She had stripped down to her undergarments as the heat had built up strongly in the tent.

  Ashley noticed that Greg walked in and quickly put a shirt on to cover herself up. Despite Greg’s baser instincts, he did not say anything about it as Ashley asked, “How did it go?”

  “Zach made me do a paintball fight six times in a row,” Greg said grumpily. “He wanted me to get it right so he made me do it again and again.”

  “He just wants you to be the best because you are the leader of the whole Conspiracy,” Ashley said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “You are responsible for everyone in our network.”

  Greg had not thought of that. He had been thrilled when the leaders of the Conspiracy had revolted against Bob and given him command, but he did not realize that it would be this complicated, or that he would have to shoulder so much responsibility. He had not realized that he would be responsible for keeping other people alive.

  “Am I cut out for this?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?” Ashley asked.

  “Do you think that I’m meant to be the leader of the Conspiracy?” Greg asked. “I mean, this has gotten so big and I never thought that it would go this far with me in charge. It’s just…I don’t know if I can keep this up.”

  Ashley pulled his face towards her. “You are meant for this, Greg. You’ll be able to win this, I just know it.”

  Greg looked at her intently and said, “Thank you Ashley. I’m so glad that I have you to rely on.”

  “I’m always going to be here for you,” Ashley said confidently. “Now why don’t we go see if we can find some food.”

  Later at dinner, Greg was sitting with the leaders of the Conspiracy towards the far side of the camp. Despite his annoyance at Zach, Greg had not said anything about putting him through the gauntlet earlier that afternoon. For his part, Zach had not said anything about it either, apparently content to have criticized Greg during the event and not after.

  “How soon do you think we will be able to move against the Black Hand?” Greg asked to anyone in general.

  “Tough to say,” Zach said. “We need to review the tapes, select the officers, and set up the command structure of this second company.”

  “We?” Greg asked.

  “Yes, we,” Zach said. “You are the leader of the Conspiracy, so you need to be involved.”

  Greg nodded in understanding. “Will we still do the weapons training tomorrow?”

  “Yes,” Zach said. “We’re going to use blanks, but I want everyone to get a feel for the M4s. We’ll do that in the morning and head back to the city in the afternoon.”

  “You know, you said that we have enough people for a battalion,” Greg said.

  “Yes, we do,” Zach said. “What’s your point.”

  “And that you said that a battalion is led by a lieutenant colonel?” Greg continued.

  “Yeah, but we don’t have one, so I’ll just make do,” Zach said, staring at his food.

  “Well, since we are reorganizing the Conspiracy, I think we should change that,” Greg
said.

  “What do you mean?” Charles asked.

  “This is a militia now,” Greg said. “It may not have started that way, but this is who we are now. We are soldiers training for a war.”

  “What’s your point?” Zach said, intrigued.

  “As a militia, we need to have a command structure that coincides with the military,” Greg said. “Since we are at battalion strength, we need a lieutenant colonel to be at the head of our forces. Zach, if you accept it, I name you lieutenant colonel.”

  There was a stunned silence at this announcement. After Zach recovered, he said, “Alright, I’ll be your lieutenant colonel. But on one condition. I don’t like the name ‘Conspiracy’. We need to change it.”

  “To what?” Christine asked.

  “There’s only one name I’ll accept: The Continental Army,” Zach said.

  Greg looked perplexed. “Isn’t that the name of the army that fought in the Revolutionary War?”

  “Yes,” Zach said. “They were ordinary men fighting against tyranny. We’re doing the same, just against a different kind of enemy.”

  Greg looked thoughtful, but then nodded and said, “What does everyone think?”

  Christine said, “The Conspiracy was Bob’s idea. This isn’t the Conspiracy anymore. I think we should move on from that altogether as the Continental Army.”

  Charles nodded in agreement. “We need to move on from the Conspiracy. If we’re going to fight the Black Hand on their own terms, we need something people would recognize, not some vague group hiding in the shadows.”

  Ashley looked at Greg and said, “This isn’t what Bob started. It’s time we realized that, Greg.”

  Greg nodded. “I think we are in agreement here. Ashley, get out the word. We’re the Continental Army.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Therapy

  “I don’t know why I’m here,” Rebecca said to herself. She was sitting in the parking lot of the office suite where the therapy office she had found was located. She had not told anyone that she was going to do this; she still was not communicating well with others since Anne’s death nearly three months before. She sighed and got out of the car into the broiling late July heat. With no little amount of trepidation, she walked into the office complex and went to find where the therapy office was located.