Steven Konkoly - Event Horizon

Where the fuck is McCulver?

Flames leapt from the charred frame of a two-door sedan, superheating each breath of air he greedily sucked into his suffering lungs. He was at his breaking point and needed something to go right. Searching through the dense black smoke, he spotted the extraction vehicles crossing Old Middle Road. Finally. He took a knee and triggered his radio.

“Liberty Three, this is Actual. We are at the secondary extraction point. What is your location, over?”

A calm, composed voice responded, “Switch to the emergency frequency. Over.”

Eli fumbled with the buttons, his fingers slipping from the sweat that poured from his hands. “Brown, I need you at the extraction point immediately. If the tactical vehicles catch up with us, we’re done.”

“You’re good for now, Eli. No marines in pursuit. One of the Matvees is behind the house. The other is in front. Looks like they’re loading up the casualties.”

“Brown, why are you still there? You were supposed to head north and pick up the thirty-cal.”

“Northern egress wasn’t an option. I’m sticking. I want to know why I lost an entire squad to some guy wearing a Daniel Boone cap.”

“What? Never mind. What’s your E and E plan?”

“I’ll head north in a few hours, tracing Route 5. Radio checks at the top of the hour on channel 18, code 93. How copy, over.”

“Solid copy. Don’t get caught. Actual, out.”

Kevin McCulver’s black, matte-finished Bronco sped past the burning wreckage and skidded to a halt in front of them. A mud-spackled red SUV followed, pulling up several feet to the left. He turned to the survivors and signaled for them to get in the SUV. McCulver leaned across the seat and pushed the door open for Eli, who heaved himself into the seat and slammed the door.

“What the fuck took you so long?”

“What about Brown?” said McCulver, eyeing the road to the compound.

“He’ll be fine,” said Eli.

“Did you see him on the way back?”

“What is it with the twenty goddamn questions? Back up and get us out of here!”

“All right,” said McCulver.

“How about a yes, sir, once in a blue moon?” he said, pounding his right fist into the dashboard.

Without saying a word, his second in command navigated the truck onto Old Middle Road and sped west, with the rest of the convoy falling in behind.

“Are all of the drivers on your radio net?” asked Eli, lifting the handheld radio from the drink holder.

“Yes, sir,” he muttered.

“Don’t be a smart ass, Kevin.”

“Liberty Mobile, this is Liberty Actual. It is imperative that the last vehicle in this convoy watches the road behind them. Report any and all vehicles spotted. I want the last car to respond, over.”

“Liberty Actual, this is Jim Huxitt in the last car. I’m scanning the road with binoculars, over.”

“Roger. Out,” said Eli, leaning into his seat and closing his eyes.

McCulver looked over at Eli briefly. “Is this really all that made it out? Where’s the thirty-cal?”

Eli breathed deeply and exhaled, feeling his heart pound at his chest. “Don’t remind me. Brown’s staying behind to gather intelligence. We’ll pick him up tomorrow, when this settles.”

“Is it going to settle that quickly?”

“What do you mean?” Eli barked.

“We just attacked a high-value military target. No doubt about that now. If any one of our guys were captured, the feds will be at the Parsonsfield site pretty quickly.”

Eli buried his face in his filthy black hands. With a thirty-caliber machine gun and nearly forty heavily armed militiamen assaulting the house, he hadn’t considered the possibility of failure, let alone that some of his men might be captured and tortured for information. Kevin was right.

“When we reach headquarters, have the men pack up everything and hit the road. I want the place evacuated in less than an hour. If those two tactical vehicles show up before we’re gone, they’ll put an end to this show before it starts. I’ll head up 160 with Bertelson’s men and find a suitable location in the Brownfield or Denmark area. Made some deliveries up that way in the past. There are some real isolated places near the New Hampshire border. I’ll pick a spot north of Porter for a temporary rally point. School, campground, whatever. I’ll come get everyone once the new site is secure.”

“I should make a second trip to my house,” said McCulver. “I have some bomb-making gear—old cell phones, wiring, detonators—some pipe bombs in the shed. It’ll save us from scrounging around while we need to keep our heads low.”

“As soon as I return to guide our boys to the new HQ, I’ll cut you loose on that mission. You’ll need to approach your house carefully, and you’ll have to wait at the rally point for someone to contact you via radio, in case the feds follow you back.”

“I don’t think anyone back there knows where I live.”

“Probably not, but they know your name, and I God-guaran-damn-tee Homeland Security has a functioning database that could spit out your last five known addresses in a heartbeat,” said Eli.

“Maybe I should forget about it.”

“No. They’ll hit the Parsonsfield HQ first, then my house in Waterboro, working their way down the list. The biggest risk is running into them on the road. You can’t take the Bronco.”

“What about splitting off from you guys when we hit Cramm Road?”

“Negative. I need you organizing the pack up and withdrawal from Parsonsfield,” said Eli.

“We have enough competent people to pull that off, Eli.”

“I thought we had enough competent people to shoot a thirty-caliber machine gun, but apparently that wasn’t the case! No. I need you personally in charge of this. I can’t be there, and one of us has to be with the troops at all times until we get things back on track. They need leadership right now. Without leadership, they’ll drift away to the four winds.

“I’ll put the guys left over from Bertelson’s squad directly under your charge, along with the guys that were part of Jimmy’s crew. Spread them out and use them to keep the troops in line. I don’t want one of the SUVs to slip out of the convoy with rations and ammunition. Reporting to the rally point isn’t optional.”

“Got it. I still think it’s risky sending me south later in the day.”

“The payoff is worth the risk. This’ll be your last trip to the house for a long time. Make sure your wife knows that,” said Eli.

“She knows. I’m more worried about the kids.”

“You tell them this is like a regular military deployment and that their dad is gonna be a hero, with his name all over the county.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

“Now I do. After what I saw at that house, there’s no doubt in my mind that York County is about to be invaded.”

EVENT +75:52

Limerick, Maine

Alex helped the marines load the portable stretcher carrying Ed into the back of the Matvee. Samantha held his hand until she had to let go.

“I should go. I can leave the kids with—”

“I’ll be fine, Sam,” Ed groaned, partially smiling.

“You don’t sound or look like you’ll be fine. Why are you smiling?”

“Morphine,” said one of the marines from the front seat.

“Why didn’t I get any morphine?” Charlie griped from the passenger seat.

“Because one of us needs to stay coherent,” grumbled Linda from the seat next to him.

Corporal Lianez raised his eyebrows and whispered, “You put two Thorntons in the same vehicle with me, sir?”