Autumn (Four Seasons Book 1)

by Robert Sullivan

Greg nodded and quickened his gait somewhat. Within a few minutes, they had emerged out of the trees and could see the town of Carmel clearly ablaze to the east of them. The bridge ahead of them was blocked by a Black Hand truck, with soldiers on the far side of the truck using it as cover.

  Zach groaned loudly. “They’ve choked off that entry point,” he said, pulling Greg back into the tree line so they would not be spotted. “If we engage them, they’ll alert the rest of their forces that we are here and they’ll all move this way.”

  “What do we do?” Greg asked. “We don’t really have a clear path forward here.”

  “We can leave a squad here to engage this truck, but we need to move our troops back through the wood and go around the edge of the lake there,” Zach said, pointing to the small body of water to their left. “We can sweep into the town from the north in a direction they won’t expect.”

  “How will the squad we’re leaving know when to engage them?” Greg asked.

  “I’ll tell them to wait half an hour. That should get us enough time to go around the lake,” Zach said. “You don’t have to give the order this time,” he added, turning to one of the nearby squads.

  “Thanks,” Greg said wryly.

  Once Zach had explained to the squad he picked what they were going to do, he motioned Greg over and said, “Let’s go.”

  “Okay, everyone,” Greg said quietly. “We’re going to backtrack a bit and sneak up behind them.”

  The Continentals nodded, keeping quiet as well and followed Greg and Zach back into the woods. After going about a hundred yards into the trees, they began to angle to their right so they could see the lake that they were trying to go around. It was a mildly arduous trip, as the undergrowth constantly got in the way. Greg kept looking at his watch to see how much of their half hour they had left, worried that they would be too late to get into the town.

  At long last, they reached the northern tip of the lake and found there was a small creek feeding into it. “Do we just cross here?” Greg asked.

  “Fuck it,” Zach said, plowing right into the water and crossing quickly.

  Greg quickly followed and soon the whole contingent of Continental soldiers was across. They picked up their pace as they turned south towards the burning town. Greg glanced back towards the bridge they had passed up on and saw that there was no movement from what he could tell. He glanced at his watch and noticed they were two minutes early.

  “Zach, we need to take cover,” he said.

  “What, why?” Zach asked.

  Greg held up his watch. “We’re too early. If we engage now, everyone will come in our direction, instead of the other way like we want.”

  Zach nodded. “Good catch. Everyone halt!”

  The company halted and waited for signs of a fight springing up from the bridge. Greg stared at his watch, his heart pounding, waiting for his moment. The sound of gunfire suddenly rang out suddenly on the bridge and Greg could see the Continental squad had remained in the trees for cover while raining bullets down on the Black Hand.

  “Wait a minute,” Greg said. “Wait until we see the Black Hand going after the diversion.”

  Several tense moments passed before the Continentals saw movement towards the bridge from the town. It was taking longer than normal because of the large number of fires that were ongoing in Carmel. Greg could not be sure how many were moving, but there was no waiting anymore. Greg leapt forward and said, “Let’s wipe them out!”

  The Continentals charged forward into the town. At the northern outskirts of town, they were still only a half mile from the center. Greg did not know if there was a congregation of Black Hand soldiers there, but he hoped that they would at least be unable to see them coming through the smoke.

  They covered the half mile in a few minutes and there was no sign of any soldiers nearby. Greg turned right and turned the Continentals towards the bridge, albeit at a slower pace. There was a narrow strip of land separating the two lakes on the west side of town and Greg figured that the Black Hand had moved in that direction towards the bridge. They crossed the narrow strip of land and saw their opponents gathering at the end of the bridge, ready to move towards the woods.

  Zach and Greg waved their troops forward and bade them take cover before they got to the bridge. They would be able to trap the Black Hand soldiers on the bridge, trapped between hundreds of Continental soldiers and their own truck barricading the far end of the bridge. Once their company was in position, Zach opened fire on the end of the bridge.

  The effect was immediate. The Black Hand soldiers turned and fired wildly, leading the Continentals to engage them more actively. Several of the hostile soldiers fell and the other packed themselves in tighter and tighter on the bridge. Seeing no way out, several jumped into the water and tried to swim for it.

  Greg noticed that the Black Hand was wavering and that the other Continental squad on the other side of the bridge was beginning to advance on the bridge in the confusion. “Do we move forward too?” he asked Zach.

  Zach appraised the situation and said, “Let’s try to make them surrender.”

  The Continentals started to advance slowly from their cover and approached the bridge. The remaining Black Hand soldiers, much like their comrades in the forest, had lost their desire to fight and began to give up in great numbers. Within moments, all of them were holding their weapons over their heads in surrender.

  Zach and Greg rushed onto the bridge, guns still raised and shouted, “Place your weapons on the ground and get down on your knees with your hands in the air!”

  The Black Hand soldiers did as they were told and the Continentals swept forward to confiscate their weapons and get a head count of the captured. Greg decided to leave that task to Zach and turned back to the smoldering town.

  “Where are you going?” Zach asked.

  “I’m going to see to the townspeople,” Greg said. He pointed at a random platoon and said, “You, come with me,”

  “Yes sir,” the lieutenant of the platoon said, following Greg. They rushed back towards the center of town and tried to help the residents of the city as best they could.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Competing for Attention

  In the middle of September, a brief heat wave pulsed through the Eastern United States as a last vestige of summertime warmth. For the people who were at this point more than ready for the cooler Autumn temperatures, this was an added annoyance, much like the never ending Presidential campaign.

  Rebecca did not mind the heat so much. She had spent most of the Summer in her room with the window wide open, so she was quite acclimated to it by now. She was in her room again, letting the last of the heat waft into her bedroom as she worked on her algebra homework that Ed had set out for her. Despite her earlier struggles with the subject at the opening of the school year, Rebecca was advancing sufficiently in the subject.

  With her recovery in academics well underway, Rebecca was beginning to think about what she might do with herself after she got her GED. College, a remote prospect in the last few years, suddenly appeared realistic and she wondered where she would go and what she would do. Johnson County Community College was an attractive prospect to get her lesser credits out of the way and give her ideas as to what she wanted to study.

  It was lucky for her that school was beginning to distract her as Spencer’s time was being consumed by a sudden increase in Continental activity. On Labor Day evening, Spencer had called her, excited beyond belief that the main Continental force in New York had ambushed a force of Black Hand soldiers and captured or killed almost all of them. As much as Rebecca tried, she could not really get as excited as he was about it. She had completely lost all interest in that fight.

  As a result of the resounding Continental victory and the knowledge that there was somebody fighting the Black Hand, Spencer’s time was suddenly consumed with a rapidly expanding movement. Through social media, news of the Continentals spread like wildfire and Spencer was a
ble to set up a network in Kansas City and the surrounding area. As would be expected, the sudden increase in activity was consuming his time, despite his best efforts to set up a leadership team to handle the increased workload.

  As September went on, Rebecca had been able to see less and less of Spencer. In the past, it may have caused her no small amount of consternation, but with therapy sessions continuing, now only once every two weeks, she was becoming a whole person on her own, without needing to rely so much on other people. She still wanted to spend time with Spencer, but it was not causing her undue grief that he wasn’t around as much as she would like.

  Rebecca finished her assignment and tipped her chair backwards to look out the window. The sky was clear as it had been for much of the Summer, which was a surprising turnaround from the series of the storms that had occurred earlier in the year. If it had stormed, it had mostly done it at night, such as the time when she had first kissed Spencer.

  Thinking about Spencer rankled her a little bit, so she got up to find something to read to distract herself. She picked up a book on the history of Nazi Germany, an excessively long read, and settled in to read in her chair on the balcony. As she was reading, she recognized something from the book that rankled her. The book described the SS, the Nazi secret police force that terrorized the streets and carried out arrests on behalf of the state.

  It sounded familiar, disturbingly so even. It sounded similar to the Black Hand. Rebecca put down her book and began to think about what the Black Hand was doing. They were terrorizing the streets, but to what end? Rebecca wondered if they were just doing it for themselves or if there was something going on behind the scenes. Her suspicions continued to rise and she decided to call Spencer to voice her opinion.

  Spencer answered the phone quickly. “Hi, Bec,” he said gently. “How are you?”

  “I’m good,” Rebecca said. “What do you know about the Black Hand?”

  “Huh?” Spencer asked, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, do you know why they are doing what they are doing?” Rebecca asked.

  “Well, I guess I haven’t really given any thought about it,” Spencer said. “I was just trying to stop them and damn the reasons.”

  “I think they are like the Nazi SS,” Rebecca said.

  “Bec, this isn’t 1930s Germany,” Spencer said. “We live in the United States and I know we’re pretty far gone, but the Fed isn’t using the Black Hand.”

  “Maybe it isn’t the Fed,” Rebecca said desperately.

  “Who else would the Black Hand be working for if not the Fed?” Spencer asked skeptically.

  “Someone trying to take power?” Rebecca suggested.

  “Like one of the Presidential campaigns?” Spencer asked. “I doubt it Rebecca.”

  “Just look into it for me please,” Rebecca said.

  “I’ll try,” Spencer said. “So, uh, are you available on Friday?”

  Rebecca perked up a little. “Yeah. What are you thinking?”

  “My high school is hosting a football game,” Spencer said. “I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?”

  Rebecca bit her lip. She had once used her old high school’s football games as an escape, without actually paying attention the game. It would be an interesting turn for her to go there for the game itself. “I like that idea,” Rebecca said. “Can you pick me up though?”

  “Sure,” Spencer said. “I’ll be there at five so we can get some food before we go to the game. I’ll see you next week, Bec.”

  “Okay,” Rebecca said. “I can’t wait.”

  The line went dead and Rebecca stared out into the distance. She hoped that nothing would come up that would interfere with her date.

  Friday night arrived without any incident. Spencer came to pick her up at five when he said he would and they went out to grab some dinner before the game. Despite the troubles of the last few weeks, Rebecca was glad that she was able to spend time with him for once.

  Spencer, for his part, seemed to at least be happy to be with her as well. “You know, I really should make more time for us,” he said as they were driving to the game after dinner.

  “What do you mean?” Rebecca asked.

  “This whole Continental thing,” Spencer said. “It’s been getting out of hand lately. I mean don’t get me wrong, I was thrilled when we beat the Black Hand at Carmel, but I didn’t realize how much work it would end up being.”

  Rebecca remained silent. She knew that Spencer needed to let out his frustration, even if she did not like the subject matter. “I’m glad that I’ve got a day off from it,” he finished.

  Rebecca rubbed his shoulder and said, “I’m glad too. I’ve missed you.”

  Spencer smiled weakly and said, “I’ve missed you too. Thinking about you has gotten me through all of this.”

  “Is Georgia still around the Continentals?” Rebecca asked. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”

  “Yeah,” Spencer said. “She’s doing an undercover investigation of the Black Hand. I got the idea from the main Continental group in New York. They have a huge spy ring in the Black Hand there in the city and I decided to do the same. Georgia volunteered to lead the ring.”

  “I guess you couldn’t tell me anything else?” Rebecca asked.

  “Like about what information she found?” Spencer asked. “No, I couldn’t.”

  “I should try to be closer to her,” Rebecca said. “I mean, Anne was a lot closer to her than I was and she might be hurting from that like I was.”

  “I haven’t asked her about it,” Spencer said.

  “I will. The next time I see her,” Rebecca said.

  “You seem to be getting back to the way you were before the tornado,” Spencer said. “Have you been getting help or something?”

  Rebecca paused. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Of course, Bec,” Spencer said reassuringly.

  “I’ve been in therapy for the last few months,” Rebecca said.

  “Don’t be ashamed of that,” Spencer said. “People need someone to talk to sometimes. You suffered a terrible loss, one that I hope to never suffer myself.”

  “Didn’t you feel that way about Peter?” Rebecca asked.

  “Peter was a colleague,” Spencer said. “I wasn’t close to him at all, he was just my boss. And I couldn’t mourn him because I’m still pissed that he got a lot of people killed.”

  Rebecca understood. As much as she missed Anne, she did not feel the same about Peter, having blamed him occasionally for Anne’s death. “I understand,” Rebecca said. “I blame him for getting Anne killed.”

  “His stupidity hampered us for four months,” Spencer said bitterly. “I could not get anyone involved because they thought we would just get them all killed. I mean, it was all over the news that most of the people who died in the tornado did so in a gang fight. I had to be honest about what we were doing there.”

  “But that changed a couple of weeks ago because of that ambush?” Rebecca asked.

  “I guess once people saw that somebody was willing to take on the Black Hand, then they were a bit more forgiving,” Spencer said grimly. “It helps that Peter isn’t around anymore.”

  They did not talk for a few minutes as they drew nearer to Spencer’s high school. “How good is your football team?” Rebecca asked suddenly.

  “They’re decent,” Spencer said. “They’ll make the playoffs at least.”

  “Doesn’t every team go to the playoffs?” Rebecca asked.

  Spencer froze, feigning being caught in wrongdoing. “I’ve been figured out.”

  Rebecca laughed and said, “Okay, will they win a playoff game?”

  Spencer laughed as well and said, “Probably. They also probably won’t win five in a row and win the state title.”

  “You never know,” Rebecca said.

  “I suppose not,” Spencer admitted. “That would be nice though, go to the state championship game together right after Thanksgiving.�
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  “Let’s hope for it then?” Rebecca suggested.

  “Don’t get them too high though,” Spencer cautioned.

  An hour later, Spencer and Rebecca were into the stadium and waiting for the game to start. Spencer would normally sit with his classmates, but since he was with Rebecca, he decided to sit separately with her so he could pay attention to her and not a dozen other people at once. Rebecca appreciated the gesture; she was uncomfortable around a lot of new people and wanted to be gradually introduced to them.

  The game started and Spencer’s high school immediately took the ball the other way on their opening drive and scored. Rebecca, though having gone to many games in her time in Topeka, did not understand the rules so much, which prompted her to ask, “How come nobody kicked it off?”

  “They don’t do that in high school anymore,” Spencer said. “Kickoffs were always the most violent plays and caused the most concussions. People decided that was an unnecessary risk to minors playing the sport.”

  “Hmm,” Rebecca said. “I guess I never paid attention to that. But your team appears to be good.”

  “They’re good on offense,” Spencer said dismissively. “Everyone is. Defense is a dead art.”

  Rebecca watched the game to see what he was talking about. It turned out to be true; there were many points scored in the game. She was fascinated by the exchange; it was clear that whichever offense made the least mistakes would win. As the game went on, Spencer’s team was the team that made the least mistakes and walked away with a two-touchdown win.

  “That was intense,” Rebecca said as they were walking out.

  “I wish there was more defense,” Spencer said.

  “That would slow the game down though,” Rebecca said.

  “Not necessarily,” Spencer said. “But I’m just living in the wrong time for that kind of thing.”

  Spencer’s phone rang. He picked it up and said, “Himmat, what’s up?”

  Rebecca glanced over at him, frowning. Spencer looked irritated and said, “Where are they?”

  Rebecca realized what was going on and sighed. “Okay, keep an eye on them and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”