Nathan Jones - Determination

Either way the eight goats (five does, a buck, and twin doe and buck kids) were a welcome surprise. At least they were after they’d led the dozen men a merry chase for hours trying to catch them. Even better news came when the breed turned out to be excellent milkers, with the mother producing nearly three quarts of goat milk a day.

There was a lot of anticipation for when the rest of the does would kid and start producing. And although a lot of the valley refuge’s construction tended to be hasty, the construction on the goat pen was very careful. Just in case the little jailbreakers wanted another taste of freedom.

The last windfall came from the military, although not in the form of food or clothes. In spite of having lost all their trucks the town still had a decent supply of diesel, while the military was running critically low on fuel and had a surplus of vehicles. Thanks to that Chauncey and Faraday collaborated to get a backhoe loader brought in, a “loan” that the lieutenant confessed would probably never be collected on.

Frankly, after everything else the military had taken Matt was a bit surprised they’d been allowed to keep their fuel. But the backhoe proved immensely helpful for construction, allowing them to save hours of backbreaking work digging in the stony mountain soil. They could also use it to knock down smaller trees, saving effort with logging as well.

Operating the tractor was something Chauncey could do even with his amputated leg, and the retired teacher quickly staked a claim to the vehicle for any job that required it. Thanks to his proficiency they were able to use less fuel to get tasks done, and the logging and construction work progressed immensely.

All in all, in the three weeks since moving to the valley refuge the town had made a lot of progress. Water from the stream was plentiful and relatively clean, food wasn’t a complete emergency, and just about everyone had some sort of permanent structure to live in.

Matt just hoped they got to keep their new home, and whatever was happening in the outside world would pass them by.

Grant and Deb settled into Trev’s squad fairly well over the next four days. They got along with everyone, although Grant kept his tendency to keep to himself and Deb usually tried to stick close to either Trev or Alice.

Trev had his worries about how the brown-haired woman would do in combat, but in the two situations where they had to fight off blockhead probes Deb stayed calm. He couldn’t be sure of her accuracy, but she was there with the rest of the squad firing at enemy targets. She had more reason to hate the blockheads than most, and it showed in her determination bordering on ferocity.

He also found that having her following him around wasn’t as awkward as it could’ve been. She was gradually starting to come out of her shell, and he saw more and more hints of the woman he’d known in Newtown. She even participated in card games and other group activities, and he saw her smile more than once.

Understandably, at times what she’d suffered came crashing back, and she’d break down. Thankfully only when she was off duty, and so far he’d seen no sign of that vulnerability on patrol. Equally thankfully she’d found a real friend in Alice, and the blond young woman was usually there to comfort her through it.

It did make him wonder how the other recruits were doing. Ideally they might have fared better if their training squads had remained intact, working beside familiar faces who’d all experienced the same things and knew what they were going through. But most squads along the line needed at least one or two replacement members, and Davis couldn’t really afford to throw an entire green squad out there against the enemy.

Besides, Deb and Grant were faring well and seemed content, as did the recruits who’d joined the other Aspen Hill squads. He could hope the others were equally fortunate.

Unfortunately the recruits didn’t have long to get used to fighting: on August 10 th, only the fourth day after they were assigned, the blockheads finally showed the plan behind their constant probes.

For two and a half weeks the enemy had used their superior numbers to relentlessly grind away at the US forces from all sides, exhausting them in body and spirit. Not to mention exhausting their supplies and ammunition. Everyone was on edge, worn out, and the attacks kept coming.

Early on during the probing attacks Lewis had predicted that the Gold Bloc’s end goal was a final sweeping rush once they’d ground the fighters down enough. It wouldn’t be completely out of character, considering their near suicidal rush on General Erikson’s defenses along the Wasatch Front.

His cousin had begun seriously working the Aspen Hill volunteers to be ready, not just to drive off the probes but also to respond to that serious attack when it finally came. An attack that might last days, where they were heavily outnumbered and might run out of ammunition, but still needed to find a way to slow or stop the enemy.

And now his prediction had come true in a huge way.

Lewis had never had trouble waking up without grogginess. Just the opposite sometimes, when some noise or sudden light would make him start upright clear-eyed and alert. Getting back to sleep was the problem after that.

Which was why he sat up immediately the moment Jane began shaking him, even though a quick look at the outline of the rising sun visible through the tent wall showed him he’d only been asleep for an hour or so. He and Jane had taken over night shifts almost immediately after their respective arrivals, since they had no problem working at night and even preferred it, so these days he was going to bed at dawn.

“What is it?” he asked as he grabbed his gear.

His wife was already completely kitted out, shoulder length red hair pulled back in its usual tight ponytail and tucked inside the collar of her uniform shirt. “Word just came from Harmon, passed on from the lookouts. The blockheads are massing for an attack. Along every front, as far as we can see.”

He sucked in an alarmed breath. An early morning attack was bad news: it suggested the enemy wanted to have the entire day to keep fighting, possibly even longer. Which meant this was probably the big push he’d been dreading. If he wasn’t already wide awake, that realization would’ve done it.

“Are all our people up and mobilizing?” he asked, pulling on his combat vest and checking to make sure the spare magazines were loaded.

“They’re getting started,” Jane gave him a tight smile. “I figured waking the leadership first off would probably be a good idea.”

“I’d better get my squad up, then. See you out there.” He hastily kissed his wife, and she gave him a last worried look as she ducked out of their tent to get her own squad up and organized. After she was gone he finished cinching his belt, pulled on his boots, grabbed his rifle, and ducked out in the slight morning chill.

The camp around him was devolving into chaos, as news spread and people prepared for what was coming while on the verge of panic. That panic wasn’t helped by the racket coming over the radio.

Lewis had to fight down his own trepidation, fears for his wife and cousin clawing at the back of his thoughts. And the rest of his family, too, if Faraday couldn’t hold up north and the blockheads pushed all the way through to the valley refuge. The enemy had already made it more than clear they weren’t kind to civilians.

But he couldn’t afford to think about that now. His duty was this slope, right here, and making sure no enemy reached the top. There were civilian camps west of here, too, that depended on him not failing.