Nathan Jones - Determination

She wouldn’t be the first childbirth since the Gulf burned, but of the handful of other women who’d given birth there had been some saddening results: even with Terry’s best efforts one mother had died shortly afterwards due to complications, and another had lost the child. They’d been severely malnourished, which hopefully was something Sam no longer had to worry about, but even so the danger was real.

He rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’ll be home before then,” he promised. “Or if not all of us then you at least.” Matt nodded but didn’t answer, still looking north. After an awkward silence Trev dropped his hand. “I’m not feeling much like heading back to the celebration. You?”

“No.” Matt turned his way. “I was thinking of getting our squads together for some nighttime training. Lewis’s raid proves that night combat is probably going to happen at some time. If not because we go out seeking a fight in the dark, then because there’s nothing stopping the blockheads from trying their hand at it.”

Trev nodded. “Well everyone’s conveniently here. Let’s get started.”

Matt moved carefully along the game trail, leading four of his squad mates.

Even with scoped rifles, the most important part of hunting was not spooking the prey. From five feet or five hundred the slightest noise, the slightest motion, could send the target bounding away while he was still lining up the shot.

And given what they faced, they didn’t have any shots to waste. Lack of caution could lose them a bullet and meat on the hoof both.

Slow and careful, the way Lewis and Jane had taught him that spring. Then he’d gone out with grim determination every hunt, knowing he had a starving family that needed him to bring home meat. A starving wife with a baby on the way.

A camp full of fighters that needed feeding didn’t tug on the heartstrings quite as much. But if they didn’t eat they couldn’t fight, and if they couldn’t fight they couldn’t stop the blockheads. His loved ones would be right in the enemy’s path if Davis and his people fell, with no one left to protect them. And that did tug at the heartstrings.

So he’d bag every bit of game in these woods, just like he’d been trying to do for the last five days since the sergeant assigned him to the southern slope.

His squad had produced better results than he’d expected at the start. Matt wasn’t sure if the nuclear winter effect had slowed the spring migration of deer and elk back up into the mountains, which had been well underway long before the Retaliation happened, or if the influx of so many humans into the valley had scared the game into less crowded and noisy locations.

Either way he wasn’t complaining, because it meant they were bringing in meat every day and improving the situation in the camp. Even better, while they’d seen a few squads of Gold Bloc soldiers nosing around along the roads in the valley below, none of them had made any attempts to push up the slopes. His squad hadn’t been forced to fight yet.

Of course he should’ve known good fortune was the exception and not the rule, the way the world was now. Because while he was creeping along that trail, only a few hours into the morning shift, the warning from his lookouts that he’d been dreading finally arrived.

“Matt,” Pete hissed. “We’ve got blockheads headed our way, at least a dozen. They just disappeared into the scrub oak around the hills below the slope.”

Those hills were near the southern edge of the area Davis had given them to protect, where everywhere else the slope gave way straight to the valley below. The cover made them a good place to approach from.

Matt toggled his radio. “Got it. Hear that, everyone? Head for the southern emplacement.” Gutierrez, leading the other team, responded that he was on his way, and Matt continued. “All but you, Ben. I want you to stick around in case they send more people through your area, so you can call ahead to Davis for reinforcements.”

“Got it,” Ben replied. At the moment they had two lookout positions going, Pete to the south and Ben to the north, the same ones the sergeant’s lookouts had used before he’d made this forested slope Matt’s responsibility. But even with the lookouts everyone was expected to keep an eye on their surroundings and the valley below, just in case.

Matt waved the rest of his team forward. They’d split into two teams for hunting, starting north roughly a hundred yards apart and sweeping south side by side. At the moment they were in roughly the middle of the zone Davis had assigned them to guard, which meant they had half a mile through tightly packed forest densely blanketed with deadfall to cover.

Or would, if they hadn’t spent the previous weeks clearing trails for faster travel.

Scott nodded and led their team south at a run while Matt hung back to call in the news to Davis. They’d reach the southern emplacement in less than five minutes, which he hoped was fast enough.

It only took a a few seconds to relay the pertinent details. “Do you need help?” the sergeant immediately asked when he was done.

Matt hesitated. “I’m not sure.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. I’m sending Abrams with a mixed squad of Marines and volunteers your way. I want you to call in immediately if things start going bad out there, and don’t be afraid to fall back if you have to.” Davis paused. “In fact, if you want to keep up a running update on the action right from the start that might be best.”

“Got it. I’ll let Abrams know if he needs to change direction or if there’s anything else he needs to know.” Matt thumbed off the transmitter’s toggle, breaking into a run down the trail after Scott and the others. He pushed hard and caught up to them in under a minute, and together they continued on.

The southern emplacement was one of a dozen they’d set up to along the mile long area, covering the routes an enemy was most likely to approach along. Since this one was at the southern end of their zone, Matt had them spend a bit of extra time improving it. Just in case anyone making forays farther south got into deep water.

He would’ve been just as happy if the blockheads had stayed in the valley. But if they were going to make their way into the mountains, that emplacement was one of the more ideal locations to deal with them.

As they hustled to reach the spot in time, Pete kept up a running report on the progress the blockheads were making. The enemy wasn’t in any hurry, it sounded like, since they were doing their best not to be noticed. Matt was glad Pete had spotted them before they began creeping through the woods, or they might’ve posed a much bigger threat. One his squad might not have been able to handle.

It turned out that they got to the emplacement with plenty of time to spare setting up their ambush. The dug out fortification overlooked one of the few areas of the hillside that wasn’t quite so steep, and rather than dense evergreens the slope was dominated by aspen. The widely spaced, airy maze of straight white trunks were mostly clear of deadfall and undergrowth, and that visibility would make anyone passing through the location more vulnerable.

While setting up the emplacement Matt had accepted that a cautious enemy would likely go around the aspen grove, rather than through it. So he’d worked under the assumption that the enemy would stick to the steeper evergreen-clad slopes to either side. It meant the blockheads would have more cover to work with, but hopefully knowing exactly where they were would be enough to balance that out.

Since the Gold Bloc soldiers could choose multiple approaches, that made it all the more important that Pete keep an eye on which way they were going. At the moment the young man reported that the enemy was moving up the slope a bit north of the aspens, so Matt had his people set up on the northern end of the emplacement. That was good, since that spot was a bit more open and had a better view between the trees below.