Summer Lane - State of Rebellion

“California National Guard,” he says. Gravelly voice.

Chris and Dad move cautiously to the center of the blockade, coming forward to meet the man. I wait near the blockade, my fingers wrapped around my rifle. My crosshairs resting on the man’s chest. Just in case.

“Colonel Richard Rivera, National Guard,” he states.

“What brings you up here, Colonel?” Dad asks.

The Colonel looks Dad and Chris up and down.

“Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” he says.

Dad and Chris share a glance before Chris says, “I’m Chris. This is Frank.”

I guess they’re canning the codenames for now.

“We’ve been looking for you,” Colonel Rivera replies. “And we’ve been looking for help. I’m here on a recruiting mission. We need red-blooded, able bodied men and women to join us in the fight to save the United States of America.”

Oh my gosh . Dramatic much?

“Where are you based?” Chris asks.

“Right outside of Fresno.”

“How did you find us?”

“It’s no secret that there are militia groups in the high mountains.” He lowers the white flag. “We were bound to find you eventually.”

“What exactly do you want, Colonel?” Dad says.

“We’re here to ask you to help us fight.”

Chris glances back at me. I nod and signal to Uriah to have one of the guards bring one of our jeeps from behind the blockade.

“We’ll talk,” Chris says, “but not here. You can come with us.”

“Sounds good.”

Colonel Rivera rolls up the flags and hands them to his sergeant, following Chris and Dad to the jeep. I get in the backseat as the rest of the militia leaders get in. Colonel Rivera sits in the front between Dad and Chris. Chris slides behind the wheel, gives a couple of orders to Alexander and the others, and then we’re off. We drive onto a hidden, overgrown logging road. After about five minutes of driving over washouts and debris, we stop in the woods, at a cabin. The roof has partially caved. The siding is covered in moss and vines as nature slowly reclaims what belongs to it.

This is the secret meeting place.

We get out of the jeep, Angela leading our group inside the cabin. Chris follows, and I in turn follow Chris. Wherever he goes, I go.

We walk inside the cabin. Broken furniture has been shoved to one side, and it looks like someone used the cabin as a living space. Commander Jones and Commander Buckley stand to one side, Dad stands by the door, and Chris and Angela are in front of the Colonel.

“Let’s hear it, Colonel,” Angela says. “You’re here to recruit soldiers. What’s in it for us?”

“Plenty,” Colonel Rivera replies. “I’ve got a National Guard base in Fresno equipped with weapons, ammunition and food and supplies. Medicine, a safe place to stay. The situation is like this: we’ve got more guns than we’ve got men, and I need every available man or woman who’s willing to fight to do just that.”

“What’s happening with Omega?”

“Something big.”

“You’re gearing up for the second wave of the invasion,” Dad states.

“You’ve heard about that.”

“Yes.”

“Is it true that New York was nuked?” I ask.

“What does the east coast look like?” Commander Jones presses.

“We have radio communication with other friendlies across the country,” Colonel Rivera answers. “Some of the satellites are still working. The east coast was hit hard during the first wave of the invasion. Washington D.C. and New York are little more than a heap of smoking rubble.”

“So it was nuclear?” I say, my heart sinking to my stomach.

“Whatever it was, it was big,” he continues. “There is an enemy naval fleet sitting right outside of Long Beach. They’ve been there for a couple of weeks, sending recon teams ahead. We anticipate the main body of the invasion will be arriving shortly. The National Guard is still in the fight, although our forces are depleted. The invasion force is coming from China. Ships have been spotted off the coast of San Francisco and Los Angeles, two cities that have been destroyed with a chemical weapon. From there they’ll swarm the state. We’re all that’s left to protect the Central Valley.”

“So Washington D.C. is completely gone,” I say, my mouth dry.

“The government is essentially nonexistent,” Colonel Rivera confirms, tapping his cigar on his knee. Placing it between his teeth again, continuing, “Or if it does exist in some form, it’s ineffective. Each state is doing what it can to protect itself. We’re on our own.”

“What about the Navy?” Chris asks, arms folded across his broad chest. “And the Air Force? If the National Guard survived, where’s the rest of the military?”

“They’re fighting,” Colonel Rivera says. “Their forces are concentrated on the east coast. They’re trying to stop the knife in the gut, so to speak, that Omega’s pushing towards the west. The west coast is ours to defend, and we need your help.”

I lick my lips, my worst fears confirmed.

The east coast is gone. Omega is coming.

“You want us to come to Fresno,” I say.

“Yes. We need you.”

I look at Chris. What do we do? Haven’t we been waiting — no, praying — for help from the United States military? I didn’t expect them to be asking us for help.

Silence. No one says a word. Angela appears to be thinking very hard about the Colonel’s words. Dad and Colonel Buckley look at each other. I try to gauge Chris’s expression, but he’s impossible to read. And then there’s me. What do I want to do?

What do I need to do?

“I’m in,” Chris says solemnly.

“So am I,” Angela adds.

“I’m not ,” Commander Buckley interjects. “Our first priority is to keep the mountains secure, not to mention protect the mountain community.”

“I agree with Buckley,” Commander Jones says. “Frank?”

Dad stares at the floor for a long minute.

“I can offer some of my men, but I’ll stay,” he says at last. “My duty is to protect these people, and to protect the mountains. That’s why I started the Rangers .”

“We will all contribute,” Angela clarifies, turning to Colonel Rivera. “But not all of us. Chris and I will join you. Jones, Buckley and Hart will remain here.”

I shift from foot to foot. Nobody asked me, did they?

“I’ll go,” I say.

Dad looks up sharply.

I bite my lip. Was that impulsive? No. The National Guard needs our help. The country needs our help. And that’s what I’m going to do.

I look at Dad. His face is grim. He looks down and away.

And then it dawns me.

If I leave, I’ll be separated from my father.

Again.

Tonight I sneak out of my cabin, Bear Paw . The air is sharp and cold, so I pull my jacket tighter.

Leave Camp Freedom? Leave your father behind? Didn’t you just findhim?

My mind is racing. I told Colonel Rivera that I would join the militiamen and women who were going to Fresno to the National Guard base. Did I say that because Chris did? Because I’m terrified of the idea of losing him?

Because if he left and I stayed behind…

I push the thought away. I can’t imagine a life without him. We’ve been through too much together. And then there’s my father, who I searched and searched for, finally finding him…why? So I can leave?

Guilty, I walk across the meadow. The perimeter of Camp Freedom is heavily patrolled. Some civilians are still awake in Staff Housing, a small collection of houses where families with small children are living. Chris’s parents are living there, taking care of orphaned children like Isabel.