Steven Konkoly - Event Horizon

“You have a chance to make something big of this, and I’ll do whatever it takes to help. I just think we need to evaluate the possibility that this operation may not be a walk in the park. They might have left some men behind, especially if the guy in the Jeep is a high-value local.”

“Kevin, I feel like I’ve learned more about you in the last three days than the past twenty years. I made the right call bringing you on board after Campbell gave you the boot.”

“Harry doesn’t like explosives,” said McCulver.

“But I do, and I think we’ll need one of your special projects for tomorrow. Just in case we run into more than we bargained for,” Eli said. “I’m thinking the fifty pounder ought to do the job.”

“That’ll definitely do the job.”

EVENT +66:19

Limerick, Maine

Alex collapsed onto the couch next to Kate, fighting to keep his eyes open. A warm shower and change of clothes had sapped him of any remaining energy. The soft glow of candles combined with the warm evening air threatened to knock him unconscious. All he wanted to do was close his eyes for a few hours, but the day wasn’t finished. His mother held up a coffee mug from the kitchen.

“Alex? Anyone?”

“No, thanks, Mom,” he said, reaching a sore arm out to grab a glass of water. He stopped halfway, not wanting to put the effort into leaning forward.

“Still that bad?” asked Ed, holding Samantha on the love seat across from them.

“I think I pulled my back out at some point, and my body just figured it out,” said Alex.

“You want to borrow my back brace?” Charlie offered.

“Thanks, but I popped a thousand milligrams of ibuprofen. I should be set through tomorrow,” said Alex. “I might need a kidney transplant, but that’s the least of my problems. Why don’t we get this rolling so we can get a few hours of sleep.”

“You guys can sleep in as late as you want. We can handle the security watch,” said Linda.

“I’ll pitch in for that,” said Charlie. “All I did was sleep next to the Jeep while they were getting shot up in Boston.”

“Don’t listen to SEAL Team Six over there. We wouldn’t have made it out of Maine without him,” Ed remarked.

“Exactly, which is why I wanted to have a talk before we shut down for the night,” Alex said. “We might have a more serious problem on our hands than any of us can imagine. I was only aware of one organized militia group based out of southern Maine, the York County Readiness Brigade. There’s a group out of Augusta that has members throughout the state, but they’re mostly focused in central Maine. We ran into something highly organized and heavily armed at Milton Mills. Called themselves the Maine Liberty Militia. I’ve never heard of it, and my contact at the York County group never mentioned it either.”

“What were they doing at the bridge?” Alex’s dad asked from his recliner.

“Blocking traffic, both ways, unless you were willing to pay a toll. Sound familiar?”

The women shook their heads slowly, looks of disgust flashing around the room.

“Not the same kind of toll, though I wouldn’t be surprised if that was involved too. The group guarding the bridge let you across if you gave up your car. We found a church a few miles back from the border. The parking lot contained at least a dozen out-of-state vehicles, mostly SUVs and minivans, which is why I suspect they are connected to the two that stopped you in Waterboro. A luxury SUV with Massachusetts plates?”

“Who in their right mind would give up a working car?” said Samantha.

“It’s nearly impossible to get into Maine unless you can prove that you’re a resident. They promised these people a ride to Sanford, where they could hopefully continue their journey unhampered by law enforcement. Apparently, the prospect of getting into Maine appeals to a lot of people. Based on what we saw spreading north from Boston, I can’t say I blame them.”

“It doesn’t sound like a fair trade, but it’s their choice,” Amy, Alex’s mom said. “How is this a problem for us?”

His parents were the only two that hadn’t received some kind of a debriefing from one of them. Most of their time after arriving had been spent hosting, gleaning a few details here and there from mostly private conversations.

“They didn’t drive anyone to Sanford. They executed the people in the forest behind the church,” said Charlie.

“That’s what we think,” Ed said.

Not this again.

“We found piles of gear in the church. Footwear, camping gear, jackets, electronics. They stripped the people clean and walked them into the forest. We found several child-sized backpacks in one of the piles.”

“I’m just saying,” Ed cut in, “until someone verifies the bodies, we don’t have proof. They might have shaken the people down for the rest of their stuff and sent them walking. Still a shitty deal…”

“You know that’s not what was going on.”

“I agree with Alex,” said Charlie.

Ed sighed. “All I’m trying to say is that we’ve all jumped to conclusions, some more than others, and it has the potential to put us all in danger.”

“Why are you saying this now?” said Alex, finding himself wide awake.

“Because I can finally think! I’m out of the pressure cooker. At least I thought I was. Now I have angry militia stalking the forests around me. What if they weren’t executing women and children in the forest? What if we killed the guys at the bridge for no reason, and now we’re at the top of their shit list?”

“I didn’t kill the guys at the bridge because they were executing civilians. I killed them because they chose to stand in the way of rescuing my son and your daughter,” he said, glaring at Ed.

Ed looked away for several moments while the words hung in the room.

“It was the right thing to do,” admitted Ed, running his hands through his hair. “I’m just exhausted. I didn’t think I’d come back to living in the Alamo. Sorry to get riled up like that. What do we need to do?”

“We’ll all feel a little less punchy after some sleep. Unfortunately, it’s not going to be as much as we all probably expected. I think we need to have at least half of the house up by 4:30 AM. Firing positions manned to cover 360 degrees, minimal lighting, all guns ready. We’ll need to stay like that until at least eight. If they attack, it’ll most likely come between those hours. If they make a move against us, they’ll probably use the early morning darkness to move into position, then spring the attack when the sun comes up.”

“What about the rest of the day?” Ed asked.

Alex knew his words might not go over very well with Ed, but he didn’t want to sugarcoat the truth. If Ed was going to have a problem living at the compound, he needed to know sooner than later, so they could adjust the plan. He hated to think like this, but the threat they faced was organized, lethal and depraved. A bad combination in Alex’s experience. They couldn’t afford to make any assumptions about the commitment level of anyone in the group. He’d never ask his friend to leave, but if Ed’s heart wasn’t in the fight, Alex would craft the plan around him. Nothing personal. Purely pragmatic.

“We’ll have to be extremely cautious. If we want to work outside, we’ll have to carry weapons and post pickets in the tree line, just in case they avoid the sensors. I say we stay close to the house, so we can get inside if the sensors pick up a threat or one of the pickets spots something. We have to work the garden. That’s non-negotiable. We’re in peak harvest time.”

“Sounds like prison. How long will we have to live like this?”