Survival EMP (Book 3): Solar Dawn

by Lopez, Rob

  “Accessory to murder,” said Connors. “Harboring a fugitive. Desertion in the face of duty. Failure to report-in after a classified operation. Failure to obey a written order. Possession of an automatic weapon. Breaking into and occupying private property. It’s a long list, but these are all speculative charges. I’m sure an interview with your husband can clear them up. I’m not an unreasonable man, Mrs Nolan, and considering the gravity of the charges, I don’t think I’m asking too much. As a sworn officer of the United States Army, I have a duty to ensure our citizens can go about their lawful business in a safe manner.”

  “Not according to the Constitution. That’s a job for the police.”

  “I don’t see the need to quibble over minor details. I’m simply exercising the powers granted to me by the state governor.”

  “No,” said Lauren. “I was in Iraq and I recognize these tactics. You’re acting like an occupying force fighting an insurgency.”

  “That’s just your opinion.”

  “That’s what I see and I don’t trust you. I’m not giving my husband up.”

  Connors stood up and made a show of regret. “I’m trying to save lives here, but if you don’t want to play ball, so be it. It’s on your head.”

  As he turned to go, Lauren called out, “What do you have against my husband? What did he do to you?”

  Connors glanced back. “He didn’t tell you?”

  “No.”

  Connors shook his head. “What kind of man keeps secrets like that from his wife?”

  “What secrets?”

  “What if I told you he tried to obstruct an investigation into the death of a fine, upstanding soldier, and tried to hide his own culpability by making false allegations against others?”

  “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “Wouldn’t he? Seems to me you don’t know your husband as well as you think you do. Still willing to protect him?”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Sure. Go ahead and think that. Meanwhile, your children run the risk of becoming orphans. Stubbornness has a price. Are you willing to reconsider?”

  “You lying, disgusting creep!”

  “I’ll take that as no.”

  Connors left the cell area and shut the door behind him.

  “Shall we give her a few more minutes and work on her again?” asked Fick.

  Connors shook his head. “We’ve wasted enough time already. Let’s finish this.”

  31

  Rick drove like a man possessed, speeding ahead of the other vehicles coming from Round Knob. Within sight of the Black Mountain barricade on the interstate, he skidded to a halt while still out of range and dismounted. He wasn’t prepared to wait for the others to arrive.

  “When the others get here,” he told Scott, “bring them around on a flanking maneuver.”

  “This isn’t a good idea,” said Scott.

  “Just do it,” snapped Rick.

  Climbing the sparsely wooded embankment that separated the interstate from Old Highway 70, Rick advanced swiftly through the trees. The spring growth had only just started, and there was precious little cover that couldn’t be seen through, so when he got to within three hundred yards of the barricade, he attracted a warning shot. Counting no more than seven heads at the barricade, he fired two shots, crouched low and continued his advance. The ground dipped ahead, and he crossed the highway and ascended a slope covered in thicket, looking for a position to overlook the barricade. Incoming fire increased as the defenders probed his position, but Rick kept moving on what was becoming a one-man flanking maneuver. Reaching the top of the crest, he threw himself down, steadied his rifle and began sniping at targets, looking to force their heads down until the rest of his guys arrived. Then he’d assault the barricade.

  Ahead of him, down in a hollow, was the blue roof of a house. An upper window was smashed open, and rifle fire blasted divots out of the ground near his face. Rick hastily pulled back until he was out of sight, but fire from the barricade soon ranged on him. Kissing the dirt, Rick slid back farther.

  The first of his militia arrived, slow-crawling the last few yards to get to his position and flinching nervously as bullets zinged overhead.

  “You three,” said Rick, pointing, “start putting down fire on that barricade. The rest of you, come with me.”

  Striking out right, he led them on a circular route to assault the blue-roofed house from the side. As they advanced through a small stand of trees, a machine gun opened up from a house by an electricity substation. With bullets and bark flying through the air, his squad dropped to the ground and refused to move farther.

  It slowly dawned on Rick that an efficient defense line had been created. Determined to break through, he left his men and made another foray to the right, creeping along the fence of the substation. Reaching the edge of the high ground and looking down into a small valley, he saw two vehicles coming down a road from Black Mountain. He fired some shots at the lead vehicle, which slammed on the brakes. As he continued to fire, the armed occupants of both vehicles dashed out and took cover behind houses nearby. One fell as he was wounded, but managed to crawl out of sight behind a garage. While Rick reloaded, those behind the houses began firing back.

  He could go no farther alone. Far to his left, the gunfire intensified, with substantial bursts coming from the machine gun. Pulling back, he crawled past the substation and found his men still pinned down. Daunted by the vicious coverage of the machine gun, they weren’t even firing back. Over by the highway, the battle continued to rage.

  Scott appeared with the Clement brothers, ducking low as the bullets flew.

  “Two vehicles have arrived in the valley,” said Rick. “Take a squad and keep them pinned down. I’ll get some men and flank them. Once we’ve taken them out, we’ll deal with the machine gun.”

  “We’ve got no more men,” said Scott. “Reinforcements from Camp Grier haven’t arrived yet, but a bunch of vehicles have come down the highway, and we’ve got movement on the other side of the interstate. We’re outnumbered and they’re going to cut us off from our vehicles. We need to pull back.”

  “No!”

  “Rick, we need to deal with the left flank before they surround us.”

  It was a sound strategy, but Rick could only think of Lauren, injured and held against her will. Torn between common sense and desire, he reluctantly conceded Scott’s point. Pulling back the men hiding from the machine gun, he led them to the embankment overlooking the interstate.

  The gravity of the situation became clear. The men at the barricade had been heavily reinforced, and there were vehicles and shooters everywhere. A squad of men with identifying green scarves moved on the other side of the far embankment. The enemy, whoever they were, were organized and better led than Rick anticipated.

  Rick snapped a couple of shots at the moving squad, who immediately ducked down. A few crawled to the top of the embankment and fired back. The firing from the barricade, meanwhile, while sporadic and inaccurate, was intense enough to preclude a counter-attack across the exposed interstate. Scott rallied the three shooters on the crest to place their shots more carefully on the barricade defenders, but Rick’s barely experienced militia were too intimidated by the return fire to be truly effective. For their part, the enemy also seemed to be amateurs, and were easily halted, resulting in a hastily aimed, long range shootout. Rick expended his second magazine, aware that both ammo and morale would soon be an issue. One of his men tried to bandage a bleeding hand, and another took a shot to the face that sent him tumbling down the embankment, screaming out in pain.

  Loading his third magazine, Rick flinched as a shot hit the ground close to his face. It came from the right flank, and he turned to see figures moving toward them from the substation. Held at the front and hit from both flanks, his men were about to be squeezed. Rick reacted according to his training and charged the attackers on the right flank, joined by Scott. Switching their weapons to automatic, the two men braved the bu
llets and advanced in bounds, firing short, accurate bursts. One of the attackers, surprised by the sudden counterattack, was caught in the open and took hits to the chest. Another who tried to back away was hit in the same way and fell to the ground without a sound. The others dropped down into the undergrowth. Rick raked the foliage and waved his men forward, seizing the opportunity to break the line and get things moving again.

  Unfortunately, his men also decided that movement would be a good thing. Just not in the same direction. When Rick turned to look, his entire unit was running away, apart from the man who’d been hit in the face, who was still rolling on the ground.

  Rick yelled at his men to stand their ground, but in the next instant, a heavy caliber round hit the tree by his head and smashed straight through.

  *

  “Did you hit him?” asked Connors, observing from high ground to the rear of the barricade.

  “No,” said Taft, adjusting the scope on his fifty-caliber sniper rifle. “He’s moving too much.”

  “But you’re certain it was him?”

  “Oh yeah. I’d recognize that son of a bitch anywhere.”

  Connors turned his binoculars to the squad he’d sent up the side of the interstate. He could see Parson trying to rally them, but they moved too slowly. It was clear, however, that the enemy were on the run.

  He signaled his mortar crew to commence firing, and waved at his mobile reserve unit to advance.

  *

  Shaken by his close call, Rick pulled wood splinters from his face. Scott moved down onto the highway to help the guy who’d been hit in the face, and Rick slid down the slope to help him. Scott got the guy to stand, and his lower jaw was a mess of blood. With the situation collapsing around them, they had no time to bandage him, and Rick finally decided it was time to retreat. They started to move when they heard the ominous hollow thump of a mortar round being launched. Rick had heard that sound too often on battlefields to mistake it for anything else, and he immediately dropped to the deck, pulling the wounded guy down with him. The round whooshed overhead and exploded on the embankment ahead of them.

  “Who the hell are we up against?” gasped Scott from his prone position.

  Rick didn’t know, but it was clearly time to get the hell out. Together, the trio leaped up and sprinted down the road, hugging the embankment. Ahead, the rest of the militia were running as fast as their legs could propel them. The next mortar shell landed farther on, on the interstate itself, and Rick guessed they were trying to range on their vehicles. Bullets cracked overhead as they crested the embankment and witnessed the mad scramble to get in the cars. The third mortar shell landed amid the group as vehicles backed up and spun around, the flying shrapnel smashing windows. It only spurred them on quicker, and by the time Rick got to the assembly area, the vehicles were speeding away. In the distance however, Packy’s Blazer arrived, leading another two trucks from Camp Grier. The other vehicles zipped by him as he slowed, and Rick and Scott waved wildly to get his attention.

  The two trucks from Camp Grier, seeing the rout, turned around to follow it, but Packy gunned his engine, driving straight for the three stragglers. There was an explosion on the pavement in front of him and the Blazer drove straight through the debris field, the suspension bottoming out as the vehicle dipped into the crater. The rattling, bullet-marked SUV skidded to a halt by Rick. Throwing the wounded man in the back, he and Scott swung on board and Packy floored the accelerator and spun the wheel, his face dotted with blood from the debris that had come through the smashed windshield.

  Rick looked back as they sped away, seeing a distant convoy in pursuit.

  “Who are these people?” he said.

  “I don’t know, man,” said Packy, spitting out a nugget of asphalt, “but they’ve got some serious shit at their disposal.”

  Scott watched the pursuing vehicles. “They ain’t finished with us yet. Do you think we can hold them?”

  Rick wondered the exact same thing. Clouded by his concern for Lauren, his mind was in turmoil as he battled with conflicting priorities. He’d prepared defenses at Round Knob for just such an attack, but he hadn’t anticipated meeting a group with these capabilities.

  Meanwhile, a troubling thought about who might be leading this group nagged at him.

  32

  April waited impatiently at the lodge for news. When she saw the first vehicles coming in and their occupants staggering out and looking like they’d just run a marathon, she knew it would be bad. Ordering Daniel to stay in the lodge, she ran down the steps and across the compound. Faces marked with bloody scratches blurred past her as she searched for Scott. Finally, Packy’s Blazer came bouncing in. Rick leaped out and shouted for Sally to come over with her medical bag. With her heart in her mouth, April dashed to the SUV, fearing the worst. The guy they pulled out of the back had the most hideous facial wound.

  But he wasn’t Scott.

  Sally attended to the man’s wound, and Scott appeared at April’s side, taking her by the arm and leading her away at a brisk pace.

  “What happened?” stammered April.

  “Total shitstorm.”

  “What about Lauren?”

  “Couldn’t get to her. Where’s Lizzy?”

  “In the lodge with Daniel.”

  “Get them out of there. Take them to the trenches behind the cabins and stay there. If it looks like we’re going to be overrun, I want you to take the children into the forest and up the mountain. Don’t look back.”

  “But …”

  “Don’t argue with me. We’ve got tough opposition on its way. Just get away and I’ll find you.”

  April tried to say something but Scott put a finger to her mouth. Taking off his body armor, he forced it over her.

  “Scott, no!”

  Scott put his hand on her belly. “You keep our baby safe,” he said.

  He kissed her once, then turned away.

  *

  The western defense of Round Knob centered on a sharp bend of an elevated road. On one side of the road was a steep forested slope going up to the hill top. The other side dropped away into a snaking valley, leaving the side of the road exposed. A log bunker had been built that covered the road, and trenches dug on either side. Snipers positioned in the lodge behind the defenses looked across at the same level as the road. With the non-combatants sent to the east side of the compound, Rick had anyone else who could fight manning the defenses. Fresh ammunition was brought up, and checks were made on the wide assortment of rifles and shotguns.

  For once, they weren’t short of weapons, but Rick worried about the lack of people to fire them. When Scott arrived at the line, Rick stared at his missing body armor.

  “Don’t say nothing,” said Scott. “What’s the situation so far?”

  Rick looked out over the road. “Not good. I thought they’d rush in, and we’d be able to give them a hard first strike, but they appear to be smarter than that.”

  “That’s been worrying me too. Whoever’s leading these people understands strategy. You think they’ll try to flank us by coming up from Old Fort instead?”

  “No idea. I’ve stationed a couple of guys with Packy to watch the south road, but they’re not going to be able to hold anything. Have you seen Josh at all?”

  “He’s still out with Red.”

  “He’s probably safer there,” muttered Rick softly. “I’ve completely messed this up.”

  “Dude, now’s not the time.”

  Rick glanced back. In the dip between their position and the lodge, Harvey and some other guy were busy digging fresh trenches by the rail line as a second line of defense. They dug frantically, as if they knew their lives depended on it.

  “Heads up. We’ve got contact.”

  Enemy militia could be seen filtering through the trees on the side of the road. Rick waved to alert the snipers back at the lodge, then aimed his rifle. Sighting one creeping figure at just two hundred yards, he fired.

  All hell broke loose.
Outgoing fire peppered the treeline, and from an unseen position on a far slope, the dreaded machine gun began pumping rounds back.

  *

  Josh halted at the sound of distant, staccato cracks. “Do you hear that?”

  Red cocked his ear. “Holy crap, that’s a battle. We need to get back.”

  Together, the two hurried down the mountainside.

  *

  From the east side of the compound, April listened with alarm as the crescendo of fire increased. Gripping her shotgun tight, she looked across at all the children in the trench. Chuck, with another shotgun, held the other end of the trench. A couple of mothers in with them hugged their children, their faces a picture of fear. The news had already passed around that they were facing a bigger force than they’d ever seen before. Lizzy held on to Daniel, who glanced up at his mother with a questioning look. April felt guilty that she was the only one in the trench with body armor.

  She felt even worse at the thought that Scott needed it more.

  *

  The initial onslaught grew fiercer as the enemy militia multiplied in the woods. Although they had numbers on their side, they found it hard going against the entrenched positions, manned by people fighting hard to defend their homes. As soon as the attack faltered, Rick and Scott launched a counterattack.

  Unwilling to rely on a static defense, the two moved from tree to tree, snap-shooting anything that moved. Surprised by the ferocity of the defense, the enemy started to pull back. Unwilling to let up, Rick and Scott charged, swerving between the trees and firing from the hip. The enemy militia, faced with two madmen intent on closing the distance, turned tail. Rick and Scott halted in cover and sniped them on their way. With the maneuver complete, they dashed back to the trenches before the enemy realized there were only two of them.

  The machine gun in the distance focused its fire on the log bunker, blowing chips out of it. Another enemy militia squad tried to advance along the valley-side of the road, but one of the men was hit by sniper fire from the lodge and he went down. The rest of the squad dropped to the dirt and tried to hide in the ferns.