Alea Jacta Est: A Novel of the Fall of America (Future History of America Book 1) (79 page)

Rob nodded
and looked at the road block again.  “The rest of my men are about a mile
behind me.  We’re headed to the other side of Tombstone.  Trying to regroup.”

“Is it true
the Red Chinese are invading?” asked the man with the pistols.  Rob was
relieved to see he had lowered his weapons, though they were clearly
not
safed.

“Yeah,” Rob
sighed.  “That’s why we’re on the road.  Mexicans are being supplied by the
Chinese now.  Saw a damn tank a few days back and ‘spect there’s a lot more
where that came from.  A Chinese tank!  In Arizona!”  He shook his head in
disgust.

“Sweet
Jesus,” muttered Brady.

“I don’t
believe it,” whispered his companion.

“Believe
it, boys.  They’re coming.  You can’t fight them on your own.  We all got to
pitch in on this one…but I think we all got to survive the first wave first. 
Best high tail it east or north or hell, even west.”

The two men
looked at each other.  Brady seemed to consider Rob’s advice.

Rob pressed
on.  “Just get out of their way first.  I hear there’s an army of vets forming
up near Denver.  They’re making it the new national capital, you know.  Maybe
that’s where we all ought to go.  At least someone wants to fight back.”

“We heard
that too,” said Brady.  “But to leave everything…”

“Screw this
place…I ain’t dying for this desert.  I’m taking Martha and we’re getting’ the
hell out of here, man,” said Brady’s companion.  He turned to Rob.  “Can we
come with you, mister?  My wife and me got guns and we’ll bring our own
supplies—“

Rob held
his hand up.  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think so…”  Rob saw the man’s face fall. 
Before anger could take hold, Rob continued.  “At least not yet.  We’re all
headed for Tombstone, once we swing around the north side of Tucson.  Figure
the ChiCom’s will want Tucson and head west and north for Phoenix.  We aim to
take ‘em in the ass.”

Brady
smiled.  “Harassment.  Nice.”

Rob paused—maybe
this Brady was sharper than he appeared.   “Anyway, my men and I need to push
on through.  I uh…I don’t suppose we could gas up here and be on our way?”

Brady’s
companion’s face turned dark.  “You won’t take us but you’ll take our gas—“

Brady put a
hand on the man’s chest and pushed him back to quiet him.  “Don’t see why not,”
he said over his shoulder to Rob.  “Take what you need from the abandoned cars
on the interstate, I guess.  Most folks left a month or so back.  Gave us a lot
of cars but no one to use ‘em.”

Rob touched
the brim of his hat, “Much obliged.”  He picked up the radio off the dash and
said, “All right boys, coast is clear.  Come on in.  We have permission to take
gas from abandoned cars.  Keep it to the interstate and keep it respectful.”

“Copy that
One, Overlord out,”
was Lance’s immediate reply.  The others chimed
in as well.

Rob chatted
with Brady until the convoy arrived, telling of the events of the past few
weeks down on the border.  The raids into Nogales; the kidnappings.  A few
brief skirmishes by the Regulators; the arrival of the Chinese.  Brady soaked
it all up and asked detailed questions.  When Rob asked of events in the north,
he was more than willing to repay the kindness of news and explained of the
mass exodus from Tucson.  The gangs had run wild, how MS-13 had taken over the
downtown and was only now starting to encroach on the suburbs.  It was anarchy
a few miles north, he said.

Finally the
convoy arrived and passed with Lance in the lead.  As the Regulators slowly
navigated the roadblock, Rob began to follow.  “You military?” he asked Brady,
walking along the truck as Rob rolled ahead at idle.

“Two stints
with the Army.  Desert Storm.”

Rob nodded
in respect and thanked him again.  “I’m serious, Brady.  What’s coming is bad. 
Real bad.  You need to get your people out of here.”

Brady paused,
back at his position in the roadblock and surveyed the dry, southern Arizona
landscape leading up to Tucson to the north.  Smoke from the dying inner city
drifted lazily in the still desert air.  He sighed.  “I don’t know.  I just
don’t know.  Where’ll we go?  We got things pretty well sorted out here…even
the gangs don’t mess with us now.”

“You got a
HAM?” asked Rob.

“Yeah.”

Rob gave
him the Regulator call sign and the frequency they monitored.  “When the power
went, most relay stations went offline—“

“There’s
plenty of solar-powered ones though,” said Brady. 

“You really
gonna stay?” Rob asked one more time.  The town was larger than Nogales, but
even if everyone was armed, there was an
army
coming.

“Local law
enforcement in the county got together a few weeks back…like a network.  We’re
planning things for ‘em.  Just didn’t have confirmation they were coming till
you and your men showed up,” Brady said, grinning.

Rob saw the
same look on his Regulators a while back before the shooting had started.  Now
they all looked grim, not excited.  Tired, not amped.  “Well, take care of
yourself, soldier.  Call us—we’ll help if we’re able.  We owe you one for the
gas.”

“You
already have helped.  You delayed them down south at the border for us.  That
gave us time.  Now you gave us intel.  I’ll get on the horn and spread the word
county-wide.  We’ll have a welcome mat ready for the yellow bastards.”

They shook
hands and Rob pulled away to catch up with his convoy.  As he drove through the
suburban streets south of Tucson, he saw signs on every street that the
residents—or
someone
—was preparing for a real fight.  Blockades, kill
zones, reinforcement of buildings and some groups of men and women training. 
He shook his head sadly.

“
They
don’t get it, do they?
” asked Lance’s voice over the radio, as if reading
Rob’s mind.  The convoy, still up ahead, was slowing along the main interstate,
men pulling over to siphon gas from abandoned cars.

“They got
balls, standin’ up like this,” admired Rob sadly.  “Maybe they’ll see they
don’t got no tanks to fight back and bug out like us.  We could use the help. 
These folk got religion.”

“
Think
so?
”

Rob drove
past city hall and saw with pride the US flag flying above the famous yellow
Gadsden Rattlesnake, the motto “Don’t Tread On Me” flying proudly in the new
Revolution.  The Arizona flag flew on a separate pole but was there,
nonetheless.

“They can
fight with us anytime,” Rob said.

“
Lot of
AR-15s…think they raided a National Guard armory or something.  I swear I just
saw some dude with an anti-tank rocket…
”

Rob saw an
armored personnel carrier rumbled down a side street with three camo-clad
soldiers in full kit.  “Something like that,” he grinned.  Rob pulled over by
an abandoned car when he caught up with the convoy.  He picked up the radio and
called out, “All right Regulators…top off and we move out.  We got a lot of
miles to cover before Tombstone.”   He grinned to himself.  Everyone he’d met
thinks the Regulators were bound for Tombstone, but once north of Tucson they would
head northeast, not east.  Up in the Apache, they could hunt and fish and raid
down on the Chinese at will.

Besides
, he told
himself,
we gotta stay near Tucson when the shit hits the fan.  Gotta be
ready to help out Brady and his men.  They could be useful allies.

Rob’s grin
faded when he thought of the coming fighting.  It would no longer be border
skirmishes and defense of private property.  Their personal conflict was
growing.

The
Regulators were going to war.

TED LOOKED AT the
doctor in disbelief.  “Excuse me?” he asked.

“I said
your wife is a very lucky woman.  If she hadn’t gotten here when she did…” he
wiped the sweat off his balding brow with a gloved hand.  “If the bullet had
gone just a fraction of an inch to the right—“

“She’s
going to make it?” gasped Ted.  The pain and grief that had become his armor
over the last 24 hours began to drop away.  Instead, the faintest glimmer of
hope registered across his sweat and grime covered face.

The doctor,
a Colonel, Erik saw, smiled the smile of a grandfather explaining something to
a young grandson for the umpteenth time.  Eternally patient.  “Yes, son, she’s
going to be fine.  She’ll be sore, more sore than she’s ever been in her life,
but she’ll live.”

Ted fairly
tackled the Colonel with a whoop of joy that echoed through the cavernous
gymnasium that was their makeshift hospital.  Others who were waiting for word
of loved ones looked up, some with anger at being disturbed, others taking
heart at the expression of hope.

Erik had to
pull the Marine off, thanking the man over and over again.  Eventually, the
doctor begged leave and moved off to check on his other patients and Ted and
Erik were alone in their little corner of the crowded building.

Ted looked
at his friend and smiled.  It was an exhausted, but heartfelt smile of relief. 
“She’s going to make it…”

“That’s
what the man said,” Erik replied with a grin.  “Come on, let’s get some fresh
air.”  All of the moans and cries of the wounded gave him a cold chill down his
spine.  He never could tolerate being in a hospital.

Just then,
Brin walked up carrying supplies for the operating room.  When they had arrived
in the National Guard convey after their rescue from the Freehold, she had
immediately volunteered to help.  “I take it you got some good news!” she said,
her face hopefully watching Ted.

Ted was all
smiles and hugged her so forcefully she nearly dropped the towels and sterile
gloves she carried.   He stepped back, eyes moist.  “It’s true—she’s going to
make it.”  He choked back a tear, voice hoarse with relief.  “I can’t hardly
believe it—she lost so much blood…”

“When can
you see her?”

Ted looked
at Brin and blinked.  “I…I don’t know.  I don’t think he said and I forgot to
ask…”  He turned towards the back of the gym, where the makeshift walls had
been erected to give the doctors and patients privacy.

Before Ted
could march off to find out, a young soldier came in the main door and spotted
the three survivors from the Freehold.  They were the newest people to hitch up
with the National Guard in the area and Erik was unmistakable with his shock of
red, unruly hair and large frame.

“Jenson? 
Larsson?” the soldier asked in a clipped, professional tone.

Ted looked
the man up and down before answering.  “Yeah.  What can I do for you, Private?”

The soldier
straightened his shoulders and delivered his message.  “Captain Williams sends
his compliments, sirs, and requests your presence in the HQ tent.”

The three
civilians shared a look.  “What for?” asked Brin, suspicion in her voice.

The soldier
looked at her and nodded the tip of his helmet.  “Begging pardon ma’am, but he
didn’t tell me.  I was sent to fetch ‘em, that’s all.  Got a vehicle out
front.  Gentlemen?” he asked and held the door open, palm gesturing outside.

“It’ll be alright,”
said Erik.  He leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek.  “We’ll be right
back.”

“Lead on,
MacDuff,” quipped Ted with a smile.

As it
turned out, Captain Williams did
not
want to speak with the two
civilians at length.  He was just the middleman.  He congratulated Ted on his
wife’s prognosis and thanked Erik and Ted again for rescuing his men from the
Marina.

“Gentlemen,
I asked you here at the request of my new commanding officer, Colonel West.” 
He waved a hand to another man who had just entered the room.

Erik
watched as Colonel West walked to Ted and shook his hand.  The two men, one
older and shorter, one younger and taller, sized each other up in that way that
men who deal in death often do.   Then the Colonel moved over to Erik with
clipped, efficient movement and extended a hand.

Erik was
surprised by the strength in the older man’s grip.  His high and tight gray
hair and the lines on his weathered face said he was old, but the grip could
have bent steel.  Erik tried to not wince.

Colonel
West stared in to Erik’s eyes with a blue-gray gaze that took the measure of
the younger man in a split second.  He stepped back and put his hands behind
his back, just below the web belt that kept his BDUs in perfect order.  “My
name is Colonel Nathaniel West.  I’m the new CO in this area of operation and
I’ve got new orders.”

Erik and
Ted looked at each other then glanced at Captain Williams.  He was watching the
Colonel from under hooded eyes. 
He has no idea either,
thought Erik
warily.  “Sir,” asked Erik cautiously.  “What exactly does that have to do with
us?”

The Colonel
frowned and looked at Erik with eyes that held no emotion whatsoever. 
Whatever
it is, he doesn’t like it…

“In light
of your service to the soldiers at the Marina,
my
commanding officer,
General Thompson, has directed me to thank you on his behalf.”  The Colonel
ground his teeth and paused.  Clearly, he did not like thanking civilians for
something he had no part in commanding or planning.

“Well,”
said Ted, totally unfazed by the Colonel’s demeanor.  He grinned.  “Just tell
the General he’s welcome.  We’re glad we could help out.”

The Colonel
grimaced but continued.  “That’s not all.  I am to offer you a choice.  The
General…”

“Colonel
West?” asked a voice in the adjacent room.

“Here,” he
barked without taking his eyes off Erik and Ted.  Another soldier came in and
after begging pardon for interrupting, handed the Colonel a sheet of paper and
saluted. 

“Damn.  I
knew this was going to happen,” the Colonel muttered.  He glanced at the two
civilians in front of him, then looked at Captain Williams.  “You handle this
foolishness, Williams.  I don’t have time for pleasantries anymore.  I want you
to find me when you’re done.  Make it quick.”  The Colonel handed Captain
Williams a slip of paper from his pocket and the message he had just received.

Captain
Williams saluted.  “Yes, sir.”

Colonel
West looked at Erik and Ted one more time, grunted his disgust at the situation
and stormed out of the room.  The tension in the room vanished almost
instantly.  Erik exhaled.  Ted was still grinning like a kid on Christmas Day.

Captain
Williams read the papers in his hands and looked up, his face pale.  “Well,
boys, I got good news and bad news.”

Ted’s face
darkened instantly.  “Bad news.”

The Captain
looked at the paper again.  “We’re pulling out.  This is from the new area
commander ,General Thompson.”

“Area
commander?” asked Erik.

“New?”
asked Ted.

“Yeah…this
is a notice to all Florida National Guard units that can receive the
transmission.  General Thompson has assumed command of all state forces.”

“It’s that
bad?” asked Ted quietly.

“Looks like
it,” replied Captain Williams.  He tugged at the collar on his uniform and
looked very uncomfortable.  “Says here, the chain of command has collapsed.  No
word from the Governor and no word from central command in Washington.”  He
looked up at the two civilians.  “When that happens, the highest ranking area
commander is to assume command of the statewide forces to regain control of the
situation.”  He glanced back down at the paper in disbelief.   “I’d never
thought to implement this in anything other than a hurricane.”

Erik’s mind
raced.  “So, let me get this straight…the President suspended the Constitution
and put the whole country under martial law.  Now the military can’t
communicate with itself
or
the President, so the highest ranking state
commanders are now in total control?  And all this while Europe is invading our
country.”

“’Bout sums
it up, yup.”

“Great,”
said Ted with a frown.    

Erik
ignored his friend’s sarcasm.  “So, this General Thompson, for all intents and
purposes is just a
dictator
now?  He’s judge, jury and executioner all
in one.”

“I don’t
write the rules, Mr. Larsson.”  Captain Williams glanced back down at the
paper.  “Says here that he’s ordered a general retreat and regrouping.  All
units are to proceed north to the Orlando-Tampa Line.”

“Wait,
we’re just giving up all of south Florida?” asked Ted, shocked.

“Looks like
it.  Russian and Cuban forces have already taken Miami and are expected to
spread out soon.  They’re getting resupplied from Cuba on a regular basis.  We
can’t stop it alone so we got to pull back and get ready.”

“But…”
started Erik.

“No ‘buts’,
Mr. Larsson.  We got 12 hours to be on the road north.  It says bring all
civilians possible, but leave everyone sick or wounded behind if it means
disrupting unit cohesion.”

“He can’t
do that!” said Erik.  “There are thousands of people who live here—how…”

“Susan.” 

Erik
stopped and looked at his friend.  Ted looked at the floor, his face dark with
despair.  “You can’t take her with you…” he muttered.  “She’ll slow you down.”

“You didn’t
let me give you the good news,” said Captain Williams.  He waited for Erik and
Ted to look at him before he continued.   “The reason Colonel West asked for
you
is this,” he held up the other paper.  “This is an order from General Thompson
to offer you a choice in return for your actions at the Marina.”

“A choice?”
asked Erik.

“A choice. 
Mr. Jenson, the General is willing to accept your reenlistment and give you a
brevet rank of Major in the Florida National Guard.  Mr. Larsson, the General
is willing to accept your enlistment at the brevet rank of Second Lieutenant. 
Both of you will be assigned to my staff.”

“What?”
asked Erik.  “I never said I’d join up!”

“I know—“
began Captain Williams, hand up.

“With all
due respect, I’m a Marine and I’ll die a Marine, sir,” replied Ted with ice in
his voice.  He appeared to be insulted at the very thought of joining the Army.

“I thought
you might say that.  This says that should you both decide to join us, your
families will be brought to safety on our side of the Line.  If you decline,
you’ll be behind enemy lines once we pull out.”

“You’ll
take Susan?  She’ll stay with the docs?” asked Ted, hopeful again.

“According
to this, yes.”

Ted looked
at Erik.   “Seems a small price to pay…” he said.

Erik wasn’t
convinced.  “And if we refuse?”

“Well,”
Captain Williams read some more.  “I see why the Colonel was mad.”  He
chuckled.  “Says here that you’re to be given food, weapons, ammunition and supplies
to last a week.  For you, your families
and
a vehicle.  You can make
your own way to wherever you want to go — be it north, south or whatever.”

Erik
immediately latched on to that idea.  “So if we want to go north…say,
way
north…”

“This
letter will be your safe passage.  Says so right there at the bottom,” replied
Captain Williams.   “Seems one of the boys you pulled out of the Marina was the
grandson of General Thompson and he’s feeling generous.”  Captain Williams
looked from one man to the other.  “I’ll give you two a few minutes to work it
out, but you heard the Colonel.  We gotta move on this.”

After the
Captain had stepped out of the room, Ted looked at Erik with pleading eyes.  “I
gotta go with them, man.  Susan…”

“I know,”
Erik said, wiping the sweat from his face.  “She’s got to go with the
doctors.”  He scratched red unruly beard on his chin and thought about the
winters of his youth, up north.  What he wouldn’t give for some snow.  “I
just…I’m not convinced we shouldn’t take the loot and strike out on our own.”

“If Susan
hadn’t gotten shot…” started Ted.

“But she
did.  And you can’t leave her.  You can’t leave your kids, man.”

“Well, it’s
not like I haven’t done it before.  They’re military kids.  They’ll
understand.  But…with Susan it’s different.  I
can’t
leave her.  Not
like this.  Not here.”  Ted stepped over to the window watched the activity
outside.  Soldiers rushed here and there, trucks rumbled past.   In the
distance, the first of the tents began to collapse.  “I’m sorry,” he
whispered.  “I can’t go with you.  I want nothing more than to get my family
out of harm’s way and head for the hills…but…”

“I never
said I was leaving,” said Erik, equally as quiet.  “Brin’s not likely to want
head off into the wilderness.  You saw how fast she took to helping out at the
hospital tent.  It’s what she was born to do—help people.”  Erik sighed, a
deep, soulful gust of air.  His shoulders drooped.   He walked over to stand
next to Ted and peered out the window.