Valley of Reckoning

by N A Broadley

  “So, this is where we’re at.” Her hands twisted nervously in front of her. Her face was pinched with an expression of stress, and worry brought a grimace to her mouth.

  “Naomi is sending us about one hundred and fifty fighting men and women to help. We can’t let this Alliance group move further into our territory,” she finished. Brian’s eyes narrowed in anger. He shuddered when thought of more fighting headed their way. He swore softly under his breath and felt Beth’s warm hand slide into his. He looked at her and saw the fear in her eyes.

  “Then we’d better start getting ourselves ready for this.” Rusty chimed in, angrily pushing up from his chair. Others in the group nodded in agreement. Stinky grinned and stood.

  “I’ve got a few more nasty surprises in the works back in the work shed.” Turning to Conner, he motioned for him to follow.

  “I need you to come with me, boy, and give me a hand.” Turning on his heel, he quickly made his way to the work shed. Yes, nasty surprises indeed.

  Once the meeting was over, everyone scattered and began their tasks of shoring up their defenses. The group had decided that rather than four men patrolling the perimeter, they would add four more to each shift. Brian and Spike sat and poured over a hand-drawn map of the compound, paying particular attention to what might be considered weak areas. They also brought the group of guards together to discuss the hourly patrols of the perimeter, upping that to every twenty minutes. Hand signals, a series of whistles, clicks on the walkies established for more effective communication. Brian was satisfied with the outcome. Their perimeter and patrol would be tighter than a noose. It would be almost impossible for anyone to sneak through and attack without someone seeing them.

  Beth watched the compound explode into controlled and organized chaos. Even the children were pitching in and helping. Stinky had them digging deep holes along the perimeter while he and Connor Malcolme stayed busy in the work shed. The man proved to be a proverbial weapons genius. With a cutting torch he carved long, thin rod-shaped bits of metal from old cars and trucks which Roger had kept out behind the barn. He took the rusty, old junks and put them to good use. For some reason, Roger had seen the importance of keeping them. And it was a good thing he did. After Stinky had amassed two dozen or so of these sharp rusted rods, he brought them to the holes the children dug. Placing four into each hole, he pushed them down into the dirt, standing them point side up, creating punji stakes that would rip a man’s leg wide open and puncture up through even the toughest of boot soles. If they didn’t bleed to death by stepping onto one of these rusted barbs, then the infection from the rust would surely kill them later. Beth shook her head, Stinky was right; this would be a very nasty surprise.

  Mary Anne called the women all together and discussed emergency operations with them. They decided that if or when the attack came, they would move all the children into the basement of the main house to protect them. She looked, seeing their scared faces. She also saw the grim determination. There wasn’t a woman at the compound who couldn’t handle a gun, a knife, or a baseball bat—if it came right down to it. After finishing up with the women, she headed over to the infirmary to talk with Doc.

  Mel greeted her at the door and ushered her in. Jill, Leslie, Barbs, and Karen were all there as well.

  “We heard. We’ve already coordinated with a few of the guys to board up the windows, move in sandbags, and make us braces for the doors. We’re putting together trauma kits in case we need them. I’m hoping we won’t.” Doc said. He waved his arm to a dozen canvas satchels lined up on a table. Bottles, bandages, splints all scattered around the table ready to be put into the satchels along with a variety of other supplies.

  “Do we know how long we’ve got to prepare?” Leslie asked.

  Mary Anne shook her head. “No. But Naomi said they are traveling fast,” she replied. How fast was the question of the day? Leslie shook her head. Would the madness ever stop, she wondered? Would they all ever be free of the violence and the constant fear?

  Mary Anne watched the sun sink low over the mountains and breathed a sigh of relief. The hectic day had battered her spirits, and she slid on a pair of sneakers and let herself out of the back door. She walked tiredly up the long grassy hill to where Roger lay. Sitting beside the wooden cross with his named carved into it, she rested her head against it.

  “Damn you, old man,” she sighed softly. “I miss you.”

  Memories floated softly, and she sank into them.

  “I don’t know if I can do this, honey. I don’t think I know how,” Mary Anne cried softly. Tears rolled unchecked down over her cheeks as she listened to the spring peepers singing and the crickets chirping. She watched field mice tunnel through the grass a few feet away and a heard a hawk overhead whistle its lonely cry.

  “I know, I'm being a girl again.” She tried to laugh but a hitch of pain caught in her throat. Roger always scolded her when she turned on the tears. He had always lovingly teased her about being such a girly girl.

  “I am a girl though Rog….and one who’s scared to death!” she scolded back. She tasted the memory. “I’m scared that you are not here to help me, to tell me everything will be okay. I’m scared that I will fail these people!” she murmured. Closing her eyes, she sank into the silence. From her heart, she listened while Roger softly spoke to her. It would be okay. She would be the strong woman he knew her to be. She could only fail if she stopped trying.

  Sighing deeply, she pushed herself up off the ground and walked back down the hill. Tomorrow would bring tomorrow’s problems. She would let today’s problems rest.

  ∞

  Brian crawled into bed beside Beth in the wee hours of dawn. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him. Exhausted, he closed his eyes. The coming days worried him. If the Alliance attacked before Naomi’s men arrived, they would be in big trouble. The compound did not have enough trained fighters to hold them back long. He nuzzled his face into Beth's hair and sighed. He would do what he needed to—to protect her and Sarah. Even if it meant throwing them on horses and sending them running if things went wrong. He would stay until the very end, no matter which way the battle unfolded; but they didn’t have to. He knew Beth would fight him on this decision, but it didn’t matter. He would make her promise him that she would run if it came down to defeat. With a sigh, he drifted off into a restless sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  For the next two days, everyone stayed busy. The daily work still needed to be tended to, along with the extra jobs of increased patrolling and preparing for the Alliance attack. The staff manning the treetop nests switched out every few hours keeping their eyes on the horizon for any movement. Mary Anne stayed in frequent contact with all the group leaders, bringing them things they requested and jotting down notes. Nightly, the community kitchen stayed open, brewing up coffee and making up sandwiches and snacks for the men and women on patrol.

  On the third afternoon, late in the day, little Stephen burst through the doors of the community kitchen, sobbing hysterically. He crawled into a corner and stuck his thumb in his mouth. Mary Anne rushed over and knelt in front of him.

  “Stephen? Honey? What’s wrong?” she murmured. He stared up at her with terrified eyes. She turned and looked at Leslie, who worked at the counter, making sandwiches.

  “Stephen,” Leslie murmured, “Honey, tell us what’s wrong so we can fix it,” she coaxed. Stephen shook his head and stuttered.

  “Pppppecker…Ccccain”

  Mary Anne shook her head in confusion. His little face reddened, and he tried again.

  “Bbbbbri,” he stuttered through his tears.

  Leslie shot out the door and ran toward Beth's house. Knocking hard, she waited. Beth opened the door.

  “I need Brian! Right now!”

  Brian stepped out with a confused look on his face.

  “It’s Stephen. I don’t know what’s wrong, but he’s terrified and hysterical,” she explained. All three took off running f
or the community kitchen. Brian spied Stephen tucked into a corner, sucking on his thumb with tears running from his eyes. In two long strides, he knelt before the boy and pulled him into his arms.

  “Okay, buddy, tell me.” Little Stephen looked into his eyes and sighed.

  “Pppeckerhead…Cccain, bad men!” he sobbed. Brian hugged him tight and felt a coil of fear roll in his stomach. Handing the child to Beth, he ran out the door and saddled up his horse. Cain was on watch on the southern perimeter. Riding like Hell’s demons were after him, he came upon the rooster lying on its side. It was panting heavily, and one wing looked limp and broken. White feathers were scattered everywhere telling Brian the damn bird put up a fight. He pulled the walkie from his belt and clicked the mike.

  “Darian…where the hell are you?” he snapped while his eyes scanned the area. Darian, Jonie, Cain, Lisa, and Mark were the shifts patrol.

  A squawk from the mike brought his attention back at hand.

  “On the north face why?”

  “Where is Cain patrolling?” he asked, ignoring the question.

  “Near the stone wall, on the southern perimeter.”

  Brian swore. He looked directly at the stone wall. At the base of it lay Cain’s rifle and a small pool of blood. “He’s missing. I’m heading out to find him. You alert Rusty that we’ve had an intruder,” he barked into the radio. “And come get this blasted rooster. Bring it to the doc. He’s injured.”

  “Copy that Brian,” Darian replied.

  Brian climbed back into the saddle and jumped over the stone wall. He began tracking whoever took Cain.

  ∞

  Beth felt her heart plummet as Darian informed them of what happened. Someone had breached their defenses and took Cain. Brian took off after them hell-bent on following. Mary Anne growled. She motioned for Leslie to take Stephen from her arms.

  “Shit!” Panic hit her as she ran out the door. She quickly found Rusty with ten other men. They were saddling their horses intent on setting out to follow Brian. Mary Anne stopped them.

  “No. We need to let Brian do this on his own. He knows what he’s doing.” They all looked at her in confusion. It was one of those times that she wished Roger was standing beside her.

  “This is a ploy. Don’t you see it? They took Cain hoping we would send out a group to find him. If we do, you can bet they are watching and waiting. They will attack the moment you all leave.”

  Rusty nodded. He’d been so hell-bent on giving chase that he hadn’t given a thought to the motive behind the attack on Cain. It was an obvious diversion.

  “Guys, grab your guns. I think this shit is gonna get real, very soon. Get everyone ready,” he barked. Shit, he wished the men from Naomi’s compound would get here soon.

  ∞

  Brian found the trail quickly enough, and he followed it for an hour before deciding to turn around. Something nagged at his gut. Whoever took Cain moved fast. Turning his horse around, he headed back to the compound. This stank of a trap.

  ∞

  Beth sat on the porch and stared off into the darkness. She held a 12-gauge shotgun across her lap. Everyone was on high alert, tense and edgy. Brian had made it back and was set off, out on patrol with several others. Her stomach churned with worry over Cain. Who had taken him? Was he still alive? She glanced up when Sarah opened the door and stepped out carrying her rifle.

  “And where do you think you’re going?” Beth asked. Sarah smiled, but Beth could see the shadow of sadness in it.

  “Beth, I’ve got to help. I can’t sit here doing nothing,” Sarah replied softly. “I’m a good marksman. I’ve been training with Rusty for weeks. They are gonna need me out there in this fight.”

  Beth nodded. She knew arguing with the girl would do her no good.

  “You promise me, if the shooting starts, you keep your head down!” Beth hissed.

  Sarah laughed softly and nodded. “I promise.”

  The first shot rang out just before midnight. The attack began, and the community was on its own. Beth grabbed her rifle and ran toward Mary Anne’s house. The children would be brought there for safety.

  “Oh, Brian,” she whispered. A wave of terror washed over her, and she ran for the main house. He and Sarah were out there, in the dark, in the middle of the fighting.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Naomi rode lead with one hundred and fifty men and women behind her. The rise in the road gave her a view of the compound spread out before her. Hearing a barrage of gunfire, she turned in her saddle.

  “Clint, take your group and go at them from the left, Barker, your group to the right!” she yelled. She pulled her rifle from its scabbard. “Remember, boys and girls; we are from New Hampshire, the Live Free or Die State! And we sure as shit don’t take prisoners! Now go!”

  Kicking her horse, Matilda, into a run, she aimed right for the heart of the beast. And her men and women, one hundred and fifty strong, backed her up. She’d be damned if she would let the compound fall to a bunch of city gang bangers! Not on her watch! Not today! Clicking the button on her handheld, she waited.

  “Go!” a voice on the other end yelled.

  Smiling, Naomi shouted to let them know she was coming in fast and hard. “Knocking on the door, boys.”

  “Copy that and welcome to the fight,” the voice replied.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Beth looked into Mary Anne’s eyes. She saw the fear reflecting back at her. Even the thick walls of the cellar couldn’t drown out the cries, the screams, and the sound of gunfire. She worried about Sarah even as the children clung to her legs, terrified and crying. Sarah was out there in all that fighting, and it made her stomach churn with nausea, just thinking about it. Looking down, she laid a soft, gentle hand on little Stephen’s head.

  “It’s okay, son. The noise is scary, I know.”

  Stephen gazed up at her with his thumb buried deep in his mouth. Whimpers of fear shook his body and tears rolled down his chubby cheeks. Beth shot a helpless look at Mary Anne.

  “You’ve got to take him. I’ve got to get to the infirmary. Doc is gonna need all the help he can get,” she murmured. Indecisiveness tore at her. Stay here with Mary Anne, Leslie, and Barbs to protect the children or shoot out across the compound to help with the wounded. Mary Anne looked at her and nodded.

  “You go. We got this.” She bent and pulled Stephen into her arms. Tammi, Pru, and Jamie clung to each other on the overstuffed sofa that sat against the far wall. Ben and Chelsie sat on the floor next to Leslie while Terri and Jaden sat close to Barbs. There was a total of twenty children, hiding in the cellar—children whose names Beth didn’t know. The walls of the basement were thick stone. No bullets would penetrate. And with only one way in, the enemy would have to get past the women first. Each woman held a rifle at the ready.

  “Stay low and in the shadows,” Mary Anne warned Beth. She turned and gave one last glance at the group. Her stomach rolled with anxiety. Was she crazy? Down here, it was safe but up there, out in the open, not so much. Drawing a deep breath to quell her fear, she nodded and bounded up the stairs two by two.

  She shot out into the yard at a fast run, staying to the shadows next to the buildings. Screams erupted in the distance and her heart skipped a beat with the horror of it all. Those were her friends out there. Those were the people of this community fighting and dying to protect it. A sob tore from her throat, and her hip screamed with burning pain.

  A thwack on the building next to her sent her diving for the ground and a bullet slammed into the wood of the building next to her. Crawling on her hands and knees, she felt the sting of pebbles and dirt biting into her skin. She threw herself through the door of the infirmary where her eyes were met with at least a dozen wounded, lying on the floors, sitting on the chairs, and leaning against the walls. Doc and Jill were moving quickly in the chaos preparing those for surgery who needed it, while the medics, Grace, and Eli, were shouting back and forth to each other as they bandaged wounds and prov
ided triage. Max, Tillie, and Evan, the other three medics, were out on the battlefield, dodging bullets as they dragged the wounded back to the infirmary. The odor of blood, of vomit, hit her nostrils in a wave, and she swallowed hard. They were getting massacred.

  “Tell me what you need!” Beth shouted as she waded into the chaos. Grace turned and looked at her, helplessly, with tears in her eyes.

  “Right now? A miracle!” she sobbed. Her face contorted with stress and sorrow as she covered the young boy she’d been working on with a sheet. Nodding to Eli, they hoisted his body and took him to the room that had once been Beth’s. Now it served as the morgue. Beth bent to the nearest man and began to assess his wounds.

  He gazed at her through fevered pain and sighed. “How bad?”

  She smiled at him. “You’ll live.”

  The bullet had entered the man’s thigh, piercing clean through. Grabbing a four by four and padding it with a thick Kotex feminine napkin, she taped it against the wound to stem the flow of blood.

  What’s your name?” she asked. She pulled a syringe from the nearest trauma bag and gave him a shot for pain.

  “Erik Jenson. My wife and I live in the third cottage down behind the barn,” he murmured. There were so many at the compound she still didn’t know.

  “Your wife? Where is she?”

  He nodded his head toward the compound. “Out there. Fighting.” Beth’s heart fell.

  “How bad is it?” she asked.

  Erik sighed. “Bad. We’re getting creamed.”

  Standing up, Beth shook her head. Sarah was out there. Her girl, out there in this madness. Suddenly an explosion rocked just outside the building, and she screamed in fear. She saw Jill cringe as dust blew in through the boarded-up windows.