Nathan Jones - Determination

Lewis and Jane had taken up a spot far north of Aspen Hill Canyon, almost to where Colonel Grimes’s soldiers patrolled in their own defense against major enemy attacks along Highway 6. It was the remotest of the ten concealed positions he and his volunteers had set up, splitting into pairs to swap eight hour shifts.

It wasn’t exactly fun duty, but at least it didn’t require anything but sitting around watching for the enemy snipers to make a move. That kind of vigilance certainly took its toll, but after days of hiking or crawling to and from different sniper positions, in tense anticipation of the enemy finally getting the drop on them and putting a bullet through their heads, it was almost restful.

He was even thinking of having the sentries farther up the slopes start spelling his volunteers, since there was no reason for them to be taking shifts when someone else was already guarding the area below. But that thinking felt a bit sloppy, when it was possible an enemy might somehow sneak past them and the redundancy of double sentries could save lives.

Although it would free up his people to start planning and executing attacks again.

Lewis had the night’s ten to six shift while Jane slept within arm’s reach. He was huddled up in a blanket against the chill, although he tried to tell himself that was a result of being at a high elevation, not the increasingly dire signs of nuclear winter on the horizon.

As usual he spent his shifts planning, inspecting every nook and cranny of the slopes below and the valley beyond them with his scope and binoculars. Wild plans, practical plans, cautious plans, elaborate plans. Everything from having all the defenders sneak in and begin sniping from all sides, slowly tightening the noose around the enemy occupying their town, to going in alone and trying to take out officers in Aspen Hill itself where they thought they were safe.

Hopeless plans, even stupid plans. He should stick with his idea of circling his volunteers far around to snipe blockheads in other places. More risky, since they wouldn’t know the terrain as well, but there were plenty of enemies to go around.

It was almost a relief to be distracted by the voice squawking through his radio headset. At least until he realized what it was.

“This is Brenton Tanner, patrolling along the northwestern-most route.” The older man sounded out of breath. Exertion, or panic? Both? “We’ve got enemies coming here. Lots of them.”

Lewis did his best to push down his surge of fear. Brenton wasn’t one of their best, which was why he was on that route. It was pretty much directly north of the refuge, close to due west of where he and Jane kept watch. Not to mention there was a defender sentry position and patrol between here and there, too. Nobody should be in Brenton’s area, certainly not enemies. “Are you sure it’s blockheads? It could be some of Grimes’s soldiers.”

If anything Brenton sounded even more anxious. “I tried radioing on the channels the military gave us. I’m not getting any replies!”

“Chauncey?” Lewis asked. “You hearing this?”

There was a long delay, but it was Wes Watson’s youthful voice, not his father’s, that blared in Lewis’s eardrums, slightly distorted by range and static. “I’m on it.”

“While you’re at it I need you to relay orders.” Lewis leaned over to shake Jane awake, although his wife had already started to sit up. “Get word to the Mayor to gather as many defenders as she can, even if she has to strip the refuge’s defenses. Brenton, I need you to carefully talk me through where you are and the terrain around you. I don’t know that area very well. And try to get a count on the enemy while you’re at it.”

“O-okay,” the older man stammered nervously.

Jane came up beside him, breath tickling his ear as she whispered. “Bad?”

“I don’t know.” Lewis snagged his pack, thumbing his headset’s mic so he could talk to his wife and the defenders both. “I’m close by, Brenton. I’m heading your way.”

“I’ve got this,” Jane said, settling into his spot as he vacated it and reaching for her rifle with its night vision scope. He nodded gratefully and gave her a quick kiss, made awkward by the goggles he wore, then began carefully picking his way up the slope away from their position.

He hurried as fast as he safely could, considering the possibility of snipers below, and as he moved he talked. With his careful guiding of the chatter over the radio, the chaos of the situation gradually resolved into a clear picture. Wes had gotten word back from Grimes’s people that they didn’t have anyone in the area, and Brenton had made a tentative count.

At least forty blockheads were circling far around northwest of them, trying to get in behind where the Aspen Hill defenders patrolled to come at them from the rear. Lewis was certain they hadn’t gotten past him, and the sentry and patrol just above his and Jane’s position were equally emphatic. That likely meant the enemy soldiers had come from farther north, somehow sneaking around Grimes’s soldiers.

The blockheads knew what they were doing, from the way Brenton described them. They were moving fast but with surprising stealth, in spite of the fact that only a couple of them had night vision gear.

A few hundred yards up the slope Lewis broke into a run, judging he was far enough away from any enemy below to be safe, especially as a moving target. He had a few miles to go and the enemy wasn’t too far away, so he angled his run southwest, to a spot where he’d meet up with the defenders Catherine was leading north from the refuge.

The Mayor had agreed to bring fully sixty people, although that forced her to leave the refuge dangerously unguarded. Lewis considered it worth it, since with any luck they’d be in position to fight the approaching blockheads far away from the defenseless townspeople. And once they managed to get the truck with the heavy machine gun in place, with everyone in good ambush spots covering the enemy’s approach, they’d make sure no one got through.

Although this was looking to be a hairy night.

Lewis had ordered Brenton to withdraw as soon as he’d gotten the enemy’s numbers and the direction they were approaching from. Hopefully the blockheads wouldn’t decide to veer off another way while they were temporarily out of sight, but the risk couldn’t be helped. Brenton wasn’t up to staying out of sight while he kept tabs on an enemy at in the dark, and also kept pace ahead of them.

Lewis didn’t want to see the older man discovered and shot for no good reason. Not only that, but if Brenton was discovered the enemy would know they’d been spotted and would become more cautious, fearing a potential ambush. That could lead to far more deaths than just one man’s.

In case the blockheads did change direction or send out scouts, he had the Mayor send a screen of defenders out to either side of the rendezvous point to watch and, equally important in the dark, listen. It was a bit frustrating to have to coordinate things over the radio while he bolted through rough terrain with the dubious aid of night vision. He wanted to be there, looking over the ambush spot and getting his people in position.

Instead Lewis had to trust that Catherine and her defenders would do a good job. Which he did… he just wanted to be there.

The Mayor reached the rendezvous much sooner than he did, even though it was about the same distance for both of them. She had a clear road most of the way, over more or less level ground, while he was forced to alternate jogging and walking uphill most of the way. By the time he got there he wasn’t much use to anyone, since he had to lean against a tree panting for several minutes. While he caught his breath the defenders around him quietly deployed, calling to each other as they got in position.