Nathan Jones - Determination

Bringing those people to safety, their ordeal finally over, would’ve been Trev’s high point for the two weeks. It still probably was, although a close second came when Harmon radioed everyone with good news on the afternoon of the last day of July, the eighth day since the attack on the depot.

“I normally prefer to keep the airwaves clear,” the sergeant admitted. “But this is worth an exception. Word has reached us that Canada is in open revolt against their Gold Bloc occupiers.”

For a moment Trev, on patrol along the southern slope, just stared ahead in shock, taking in the news. Then he whooped. The rest of his team quickly followed, and he heard more cheers from the direction of their camp.

Lewis’s voice cut into the silence on the airwaves following that bombshell. “How did it happen?”

“I was getting to that.” Harmon sounded cheerful rather than annoyed. “It started when the Canadians began looking into large numbers of American prisoners being brought across their borders, to the Gold Bloc civilian camps. The blockheads were supposed to be moving people out of those camps, not into them, since that’s where their settlers wait to be relocated to conquered territories.

“It didn’t take long for the Canadians to discover that the prisoners were being used as slave labor. That plus horrific details about how they were being mistreated, including overwork, beatings, starvation, and rape and forced prostitution, were enough to make the Canadians cut off all supplies and military support to the Gold Bloc.”

Trev shuddered, thinking of a prison camp like the one he and his family had escaped from, only without even a trace of compassion or humanity from their blockhead captors. He was glad they’d managed to get away, and equally glad he’d been able to help other prisoners escape that fate.

He was also more than happy to push aside those unpleasant thoughts and listen as Harmon continued. “Losing that support compelled Gold Bloc troops to turn on their hosts, capturing vital Canadian facilities and supply storehouses. Which pretty much incited our northern neighbors from simply withdrawing support to outright revolution. We’ve yet to see how this will affect us down here, but the results can only be good.”

For Trev the ramifications of the news were obvious, and major. Without supplies the Gold Bloc forces surrounding them would quickly run out of gas, literally as well as figuratively. They’d have to withdraw, not just here but possibly from other areas of the US as well. Or at the very least they’d lose most of their mobility and would be reduced to the same sort of low tech, asymmetrical warfare the US remnants relied on.

This could explain why the enemy had stepped up their attacks, not out of retribution but out of desperation. Even more than that, it might be the first step to a real and permanent victory. Even though the blockheads outnumbered them, even with the enemy’s supply lines, somehow the US remnants had managed to outlast them. They just had to hold out a little longer and it might all be over soon.

The blockheads didn’t give them a chance to really appreciate Harmon’s news, staging a series of attacks up and down the range that had them scrambling all day. Still, in spite of that there was a mood of subdued celebration in the camps that persisted for days afterwards.

Two weeks after gaining their freedom, the freed prisoners who’d volunteered to join Davis finished their training. It provided a welcome reprieve for everyone after weeks of tension interrupted by minor attacks, since it meant almost fifty recruits were ready to be rotated in. Those who needed the rest most could finally get it, without needing to weaken their defenses anywhere.

Trev was surprised to discover that the Aspen Hill volunteers were inundated with offers to join from the recruits. He supposed that made sense, considering the role they’d played in freeing the prisoners, but he’d never expected anyone to be fighting for the chance to join his squad.

He didn’t forget his promise to Deb. Once the offers started rolling in he spent some time talking about her performance, along with her temperament, with Abrams and the veteran volunteers who’d helped with the training.

The brown-haired woman hadn’t stood out, either by excelling or by falling behind, but those who’d worked with her said she was determined and had put in a lot of effort. Not the easiest thing to do when recovering from a month of deprivation and mistreatment, but she hadn’t complained.

Her trainers, women who’d volunteered to work with Deb and the other female recruits out of consideration for what they’d suffered, did mention that she might have potential issues recovering from her trauma. But since the same could be said for the majority of the escaped prisoners, both men and women, that was an issue they’d all have to handle as best they could.

So Trev sought Deb out to let her know she was welcome in his squad.

On the way he ran into Grant, the second recruit he’d asked around about, and invited him to join the squad as well. Grant was the man Trev had loaned his 1911 to during the escape, and he’d kindly kept hold of it to return afterwards. From what Trev had heard he’d also done well in training, not just with his drilling and target practice but in following orders and working well with his squad.

The one reservation his trainers had was that he tended to keep to himself when he could, but Trev had plenty of experience with people like that. Such as Jane, who was leading a squad but still did her best to avoid people when off duty, or even Lewis at times.

The gaunt man was only too happy to accept his offer, and agreed to meet him back at their camp once he’d gathered his things. Trev continued on to the women’s section of the recruit camp and, keeping to the fringes, spied Deb eating next to a campfire and called her name. She looked up, wary, but perked up when she recognized him, quickly setting her plate aside to make her way over to him.

The last two weeks had done the brown-haired woman an astonishing amount of good. Most of the haggardness had faded from her features and she looked more like her actual age, if a bit weathered by what she’d been through. Her eyes were also clearer, calmer, unlike the wild swings between blank passivity and uncontrolled emotion he’d seen from her just after she’d been freed.

Trev was glad. He hadn’t had time to think about much but the fighting since freeing her, but he had worried about her welfare, her and the other freed prisoners. They’d been through a lot, and throwing them into combat training to prepare them for fighting didn’t seem like the best therapy.

But maybe her sense of purpose had pulled her through whatever dark places she’d had to navigate, or at least allowed her to focus on something besides her time as a prisoner.

“Am I in?” she asked.

Trev nodded. “If you’re still interested we’d be happy to have you.”

For the second time since finding her in that cage he saw her smile, a slightly painful thing but showing a lot of her former self. “And Davis approved the assignment?”

Trev nodded. “He gave us first pick, since everyone was asking for us. Lewis will give him the names once we’ve filled our squads.”

“Okay.” She turned and hurried to gather up her things, showing the slightly hesitant steps of a recovering patient in spite of her enthusiasm.

Along with the tattered clothes on her back, the sum of her worldly possessions were made up of the weapons and gear she’d been issued after finishing her training, her blanket and some coarse sacks that could be stuffed with grass for padding, and a bright red coat that would make her a target for miles if she had to use it. Which she probably would.