Nathan Jones - Determination

Definitely not an excuse to let his guard down, but Trev had to admit the thought had him breathing easier. From the looks of it the rest of his squad was thinking the same.

After thanking the soldiers and wishing them the best he led his squad on. First things first he had Rick and Tom go on ahead, to take over for the remaining lookouts so they could rejoin their squads. Then he sent the rest of his squad to about the midway point of their assigned area, to begin scoping out the area and setting up their new camp. It was a fairly secure spot the Army squads had recommended, up on the lower slope just above the foothills, and would make a good starting point for their patrols.

Once that was done Trev called for Mason to join him, and together they began scoping out the foothills to plan the ideal patrol route.

It wasn’t easy going, whatever his previous estimation of the terrain compared to the slope Matt’s squad guarded. But there were plenty of choices for easy paths, which was more a potential problem than a convenience; with their superior numbers the blockheads would get better use of alternative routes than Trev’s people would, and he’d have to find a way to defend them all.

They were going to have their work cut out for them over the next little while.

Near the north end of the area Mason pointed him towards a few opportunistic turkey vultures circling a copse at the eastern edge of the foothills, just before where they gave way to the valley below. “Early birds.”

Trev nodded. If they’d spotted a kill from last night’s battle they’d been quick about it. But then again, a lot of people had died and that was bound to draw carrion birds. Or maybe the birds were still circling because whoever it was still had some life in him. “Go find a good spot to watch the valley. I’ll check it out.”

The man nodded and split off to begin making his careful way up a slope dotted with sagebrush and evergreen shrubs. Trev continued on alone, taking it slow and moving carefully. As he went Rick contacted him over the radio to ask what he was doing. His friend was in a position to watch, so Trev quickly explained the situation. It was a bit of a relief to know he had friendly eyes on him.

Finally he reached a spot where he could see inside the copse at what had drawn the vultures’ attention, and he pulled out his binoculars.

It was exactly what he’d expected, but that didn’t make it easier to see. A wounded Gold Bloc soldier had dragged himself into hiding, and somehow managed to avoid the Army scouts who’d scoured this area. He was clearly dead, sitting unnaturally still propped up against a tree trunk. Just a kid, possibly even younger than Pete.

Trev approached a bit quicker, although still cautiously in case the enemy hadn’t been alone. Once he reached the soldier he confirmed he was dead, then with mixed feelings stripped the body of anything useful.

He felt like he should bury the blockhead. It was the decent thing to do. At the same time there were a lot more pragmatic things he had to take care of that were vital to his squad’s survival and defending this area. And if the situations were reversed he doubted the enemy would afford him the same courtesy, other than maybe disposing of his body for hygienic purposes.

But looking at the young, deathly pale face, it was hard to see him as an enemy. What country had he come from, volunteering or drafted to leave his home and attack a country half the world away? He’d probably left behind family and friends, who might not even still be alive after the Retaliation.

Trev called Mason over, and with his squad mate’s help scratched out a shallow grave by the tree that they covered with as many rocks as they could find in a few minutes’ time. He also carved a mark into the trunk above the grave in place of a headstone.

Then, lugging the captured gear, he and Mason continued on their patrol.

Over the next six days, Trev managed to sort out a patrol route and sentry rotation that would defend their mile long stretch as well as possible, while still giving twelve people the opportunity to get the rest they needed.

It meant they didn’t have much in the way of off duty. They patrolled, they manned the sentry posts, or they slept. He’d planned the routes to keep everyone towards the center of the area as much as possible, so if there was trouble everyone could quickly join up and go wherever they needed to defend. Hopefully getting there before the blockheads.

The hunting wasn’t great around here, but he had his people keep their eyes open. He also passed on what Lewis had taught him of how to make snares, and they found a few trails to set them on. They even caught a few jackrabbits and some other critters; nowhere near what they needed, but enough for a bit of fresh meat.

His worries about trouble with Vernon proved unnecessary. The former sheriff and his men kept to themselves in Cedar Creek Canyon, and although Trev’s squad spotted their sentries up on the ridge just north of the canyon that was as close to contact as they got.

Aside from with Trent, who Trev ended up visiting a few times. He explained the entire situation with the theft of his family’s truck in Newtown, and then taking Vernon and his men prisoner in the very canyon he was now guarding. And he learned from his new friend that, while the former sheriff told basically the same tale, he twisted key details to put Trev in a bad light.

He was also putting Trev in a bad light by spreading the story of the fight in Westman’s bar, making it seem like Trev was the one who’d started it by seriously injuring an innocent man. To add to that he was claiming Trev’s family had stolen the truck, which was technically true, but being vague on where they’d stolen it from. According to Trent the unspoken implication was that they’d taken it from a neighboring town. That didn’t justify Vernon’s own theft of the vehicle, but as he put it at least he’d taken it from a thief.

It took most of Trev’s self control not to fly off the hook at that blatant defamation, and Trent always hurriedly changed the subject to something else at that point. That was fine with Trev, since it kept his visits with his new friend more pleasant, and he looked forward to what little time he could spare away from his duties.

As for the enemy, things were quiet there. They caught sight of a few patrols and passing convoys down in the valley and marked them closely, but the enemy didn’t come within five hundred yards of the foothills.

Trev wasn’t about to extend out that far, just to take potshots of the moving targets that his people would probably miss. Not only was it a risk but Davis had ordered them to avoid engaging the enemy, unless the blockheads tried to push up into the mountains or presented a real opportunity to do some damage. Besides, attempting that kind of foray would interfere with his squad’s duty to guard the area.

On the morning of the fifth day after the helicopter attack, Trev was startled to hear the national anthem being played over the radio. He hadn’t been keeping track of the days, so he hadn’t even realized it was the 4 thof July until that point.

To celebrate Davis offered everyone double rations, for one day at least ignoring the fact that supplies were becoming a problem. And he handed out the good food, a proper meal and even some chocolate bars. There were no fireworks, but the sergeant handed out flags and invited squads to fly them atop the tallest ridges and hills, all along the stretch of mountains they were guarding.

Trev wasn’t sure how much was left of the United States of America, or what the country would look like in a year even if they did manage to beat the Gold Bloc and send them packing. But for one day at least it was nice to remember the parades and fireworks of childhood Independence Days, and town picnics and neighborhood block parties and burning his mouth on hot dogs straight off the grill.