Trent Reedy - Divided We Fall

It all came down to what I’d learned from that Fed medic. I didn’t have the luxury of taking stupid, trusting chances. That sergeant’s finger was on the trigger. He could have shot me at any time. It would have taken one second. I’d never know what he meant to do, but waiting around to find out could have gotten me and maybe even all my friends killed.

If I explained it to myself like that, it started to make sense, but then in the next second I was full of more doubts. Worse, even when I could convince myself that my action had been necessary, I couldn’t shake the hollow, cold, desperate feeling that I had done a very terrible thing.

“You know,” said Sweeney after a long time, “a lot of this situation really sucks, but at least I had the chance to meet Nurse Sarah and—”

“Eric, shut up,” Becca said.

“What? What’s so bad about me finding true love?”

“You find it every day,” Becca said.

“Shut up!” JoBell said. I checked my mirror and saw her pointing at two fast-approaching Army Humvees. Red lights flashed on the roofs of the vehicles. “They’ve found us.”

“Everybody hold on. This is going to get rough!” I sped up. With the Feds chasing us, there would be no time to find some forgotten dirt road to get home. I hooked the corner onto the highway that would take me to my Guard company’s position. Humvees were heavy, especially armored Humvees, and heavy meant slow. Of course, the Beast wasn’t exactly lightweight either. I just hoped they were slower than me.

The crack of gunfire echoed from outside.

“Oh, Danny, they’re shooting!” Mom screamed. She was going straight into a panic attack.

I looked in my rearview mirror again. The gunners standing in the turrets at the top of the Humvees were firing the light machine guns on their mounts. I guessed they were M249 SAWs, Squad Automatic Weapons. The Humvees’.50-cal heavy machine guns would have ripped right through us. Their muzzles flashed as they fired again. This time I heard the thump, thump, thump-thump-thump as the rounds hit the Beast.

More shots hit the back window, which spiderwebbed right in front of JoBell and Cal. They would be dead now if Schmidty hadn’t put in the bulletproof glass.

“What are we gonna do?” Sweeney shouted. “They’re shooting at us!”

“We’re going to have to shoot back,” Cal said.

“Cal!” JoBell pushed his barrel down.

“Self-defense!” Cal yelled.

Another barrage pelted the back of the truck. More round divots in the glass. Cal hit the window hard with the butt of his rifle. “Damn. This glass is tough!”

“Cal, those are American soldiers!” JoBell yelled. “We can’t—”

“It’s them or us,” Cal said. “They’ve already made their choice. We’re in this too deep, JoJo.”

JoBell frowned. “I told you before.” She pulled and released the charging handle to chamber a round on her AR15. “Don’t call me JoJo.” She joined him in hitting the glass until it finally gave way. “Danny, your back window is ruined. I’m going to take out their weapons. Hopefully, I won’t hit anyone.” One-two-three, she fired quick. One of the turret gunners crouched behind his machine gun. “It’s hard to hit anything when we’re moving.”

“I’ll keep the Beast steady,” I said. “You keep shooting.”

Cal opened up too, firing wildly.

“Try to aim at something, Cal. You’re wasting bullets.” JoBell fired again. While the one turret gunner ducked down, she shot round after round, sparks jumping off the machine guns as she pelted them. I figured that at least that SAW wasn’t going to be able to shoot again. The.50-cal was a different story. Those things were like tanks themselves.

The second Humvee caught up to us and brought its front bumper up side by side with my door handle. Then it swerved at me and struck. The two-inch pipes welded inside the Beast’s body kept us from being crumpled right there.

The Humvee hit us again. My tires squealed as we were pushed to the side. “Oh, you did not just scratch up my truck!” I shouted. I yanked the wheel to the left, slamming into the Humvee and knocking it back. The turret gunner on top lost his balance and struggled to get himself back under control. He reached to unlock the mount on his SAW so he could move it to fire on us.

I rolled down my window and grabbed my nine mil. I didn’t want to do this, but I couldn’t let him spray us all with 5.56 rounds. I held the steering wheel with my left hand and with my right aimed as best I could across my body at the gunner. Then I squeezed off five rounds, hitting him in the shoulder. He dropped down into the turret.

“Sweeney!” I yelled. “Get on my comm. Call Sergeant Kemp. Tell him we’re coming through the checkpoint on this highway in about five minutes, and we could use some help with the company we’re bringing.”

The Humvee that had been alongside us dropped back a little, but we had worse trouble ahead. Another gun Hummer was coming down the road straight at us, gunner ready. I switched my shooting and driving hands, holding my gun out the window with my left, firing forward wildly and unsupported. “JoBell, we need you up here!”

She scrambled to climb over the backseat, rifle in hand. “Hang on a second.”

But we didn’t have a second. The approaching gunner completely opened up with his SAW, spraying the hood and windshield with bullets. The Beast swayed all over the road as a hot dagger sliced my left hand. I dropped my gun and shouted in pain.

Then I heard a choking, gasping sound. Mom was flailing around in her seat with a gaping, spurting red hole in the upper right part of her chest.

“Mom! Mom! Someone get a bandage on her! Stop the bleeding!” I swerved to the left to dodge the oncoming Humvee, its armor scraping alongside my truck. “Becca! Somebody!”

Becca had her shirt off and held it to Mom’s chest. “You’re okay, Mrs. Wright. I’ll stop this bleeding, no problem.”

“Put more pressure on it!” I shouted. “You gotta put pressure on it!”

“I am!” Becca cried.

We were coming up on the border. I could see our wire obstacle in Idaho and a bunch of soldiers around the new Fed checkpoint on the Washington side. Mom screamed, pressing her blood-soaked hands over Becca’s. JoBell slid up between me and Mom, using the big center console as a seat. “Danny, you have to drive. There’re soldiers ahead.” She knocked out the cracked-up front windshield with her rifle and then opened fire. The Feds scattered for cover. There were dozens of them, though. They’d rip us apart before we ever reached our side of the border.

“Danny,” Mom said with a raspy voice.

“Mom, I’m right here. Stay with me. We’re almost there.”

“Oh, it hurts, Danny.”

“I know, Mom.” I wiped my eyes and blinked so I could still see through the pain in my own hand.

“Maybe we should surrender.” Becca leaned over my mother. Mom’s blood had soaked Becca’s bra and was smeared up her arms. “Maybe they have a doctor.”

She was right. This might be our only chance. And we’d never make it through to Idaho with all those soldiers ready to shoot us up from either side of the road. I let off the gas.

Then two Apache gunship helicopters dove down out of the sky from Idaho. One fired its cannons danger-close to the Humvees. The other tore up the ground right at the edge of the road, providing suppressive fire to keep the Fed soldiers down. Kemp must have come through, probably calling the governor himself to get this air support.

“We’ll go to our doctors,” I said, pressing the accelerator again.

As the Apaches kept firing, keeping the Fed soldiers distracted, I drove ahead. “Hang in there, Mom. We’re almost home. Just like I promised.” I could see the little dirt road that let civilians bypass the roadblocks to leave Idaho. We’d use it to get back in.