Nathan Jones - Determination

The first of the freed prisoners reached the bottom of the slope and began crawling up it, picking their way over deadfall and undergrowth. The squad mates Trev and Jane had left taking their shifts on the southern slope were there to greet them, as was every single medic under Harmon’s command. Together they helped the exhausted and wounded people continue to safety.

Lewis got his wounded man to the nearest medic and lowered him as gently as he could, then collapsed a few feet away. A moment later Jane collapsed behind him, pressing her back against his to keep them both upright.

“How many did we save?” he mumbled.

The question was directed at no one and everyone. Alice, helping the medics, hesitated. “At least a hundred, I think.”

A hundred. The prisoners had flipped a coin on whether they’d live or die when Trev let them out of those cages. Lewis knew they’d accepted the risk, and had expressed a willingness to die rather than remain prisoners. Even so… had they known beforehand how it would turn out, would so many have taken the chance anyway? And what about their rescuers? Could they even call this a success?

Either way what was done was done. They’d all made their choice, and there was no taking back the consequences. Lewis sighed. “What about us? Did we lose anyone?”

It was Trent, standing nearby with Trev and Rick, who answered. “Mason,” he said reluctantly, “and Ted, I think. A few others are wounded.”

So Mason hadn’t made it through this time. That was going to hit Trev hard. Lewis shut his eyes and tried to focus on the positive. “We did a lot of damage to the blockheads tonight.”

“And Davis and Faraday will have done more,” Jane agreed. “Not bad, considering we ripped our carefully crafted plan to shreds and took a flamethrower to the—”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Trev abruptly shouted, and they both stumbled to their feet in surprise. “Deb, put the gun down!”

Trev breathed an inward sigh of relief as he managed to get himself between the muzzle of Rick’s 1911 and Fred Vernon.

Of course, that meant he was staring up the iron sights into the eyes of an obviously unstable person.

For a moment Deb’s expression went slack, as if she hadn’t quite grasped what had just happened. Then her eyes grew even wilder. “You’re with him?” she demanded. “You, of all people?” Her arms holding the gun began shaking slightly, not a good sign.

“We’re all on the same side,” he answered, doing his best to keep his voice calm. He slowly raised his hand towards the pistol as he continued. “Whatever he did in the past, it’s the blockheads who’re our enemies. Put it down.”

Deb wavered, starting to look calmer. And Vernon chose that moment to open his mouth. “Trevor’s right, woman. I’m not your enemy, I just saved you.”

“Saved me?” Deb said, voice cracking. Her arms began shaking even more, and Trev saw her finger twitch on the trigger as she tried to sidestep around him. At this range he wasn’t sure how much his body armor would do to stop a .45 ACP round. “Because of you I was their prisoner in the first place! Because of you they starved me and beat me and worked me to the bone for over a month! Because of you they—” she cut off, shuddering.

Trev’s hand had frozen when she came close to pulling the trigger, but now he continued to lift it until just his index finger rested on the top and side of the barrel. “I don’t think you really want to kill him. Do you? And I’m pretty sure you don’t want to kill me.” He ever so carefully began lowering it to point towards the ground.

She was wavering, her eyes calming down. “You know what he did to us, Trev,” she whispered, voice pleading. “You know what he left us to. You could’ve been in the same situation. Your family.”

The gun was pointing at the ground now. Trev breathed another inward sigh of relief as he moved his hand up to the back of the barrel and put the safety on. “He stole from us,” he agreed. “He abandoned us. But there are people guilty of far worse. Let’s focus on justice for them.”

Deb’s shaking had grown so bad he was afraid she’d drop the 1911 on her own. Trev gently closed his hand over hers and started to take the gun from her. “I borrowed this from my friend,” he continued. “May I return it to him, please?”

After one final moment of tension Deb nodded and let go of the weapon. As Trev turned to hand it to Rick she dropped to the ground and began to sob. Alice came over and knelt to put her arms comfortingly around the older woman’s shoulders, and Deb leaned into her and sobbed even harder.

Trev turned to look at Vernon, noticing that many of the man’s fighters held their weapons ready. “You handled that well,” the former sheriff said grudgingly, “but I think I’m tempting fate staying here. Too many old grudges. We’ll go ahead and get going.”

“That’s not the worst idea.” Trev glanced at Rick, who hadn’t put away his pistol, before looking back at Vernon. “Thank you again.”

The former sheriff motioned, and his people fell in and started up the slope towards the path that led over the ridge to the main camp. But Vernon hesitated after only a few steps and looked back at Deb. “I am sorry, Ms. Rutledge. Whatever I did, I never meant for it to cause anyone this sort of pain.”

He continued on, and Trev finally let out his pent up sigh of relief. He turned back to where the medics were working, ready to get back to seeing what he could do to help.

When he saw Davis standing there with everyone else he jumped slightly in surprise. “How long have you been there?”

The sergeant snorted. “Long enough to see I didn’t need to step in. Nice save, Smith. I think this is your first run-in with Vernon’s people in a while that hasn’t ended with you punching someone.”

Trev found himself grinning instead of getting annoyed. He stepped forward to offer Davis his hand. “Nice save yourself. It was turning ugly with those trucks.” The sergeant returned his strong grip. “How did it go to the south?”

“It went. We got their trucks, at least, and one or two emplacements. The blockheads scattered like roaches at that point, and Sergeant Harmon and the others pursued them in a cautious but exuberant manner. In the meantime Abrams and I brought the remaining missiles and launchers, for which there was little use against the currently dispersed enemy targets, to haul your collective bacons off the fire. I figured I’d lost enough good people today.” Davis’s eyes tightened. “The dogs killed Peterson and Anders before running.”

They’d all known it was coming, but a heavy feeling still settled over Trev. “I’m sorry, Sarge.”

The Marine sighed, shoulders sagging. “I don’t know, maybe a quick death was a mercy.” Abruptly straightening, he turned and looked over the ragged prisoners gathered in an uncertain mob around the medics, just inside the treeline.

For once Davis tried to inject a bit of warmth into his voice. “You escaped,” he said loudly but with feeling. “And I’m glad for that. Now that you’re in the mountains you’ll have the protection of the United States Armed Forces, and as long as we can hold off the enemy no harm will come to you.”

There were a few grateful murmurs, but the majority of the newly freed men and women just listened silently. For his part Trev tensed slightly. Was this a recruitment speech? These poor people had already suffered so much.

He was half right. The sergeant continued. “As you might be aware, the people who rescued you tonight are volunteers. Civilians, like yourselves, who picked up a gun to fight the blockheads. While escaping tonight, many of you also picked up a gun and fought. If you want to continue to do so, to fight to make sure you’ll never suffer the Gold Bloc’s tender mercies again, you’re more than welcome. If not I’ll send a few people along with you to the nearest civilian camp, deeper in the mountains where you’ll be safe.”