The Line of Departure: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series Book 4) (31 page)

“We just might be able to use this old chopper if the timing presents itself.”

“That negotiation is on you. Leave me out of it,” Gunny snarled, holding his hands up.

“Did Top say where they were headed?”

“He didn’t, but when I saw him, I fully expected to see the colonel. Needless to say it was a risk on my part, but the roads between here and Seattle are not safe. We barely escaped an ambush from some bandits.”

“I’m not going to second-guess you. You made it, so that’s all that matters.”

Both men discussed Barone’s demise and how so much had changed. The bond they shared was deep and out of everyone there, Gunny was one of Gordon’s oldest friends, besides Nelson. To have the privilege and blessing of people close to him he could trust was priceless and, in this world, a rarity. Gordon recognized how lucky he was, even given the bad things that had happened to him. For the most part, he and what remained of his family were fortunate. However, he needed to protect these blessings, and that didn’t happen by chance but by deliberate actions.

“I came, I saw, I conquered.”

—Julius Caesar

Horseshoe Bend, Idaho

B
urn it down! Burn down every building, home, barn, shack that displays this!” Schmidt ordered his men, clutching a Doug flag.

Without question, his men executed his orders. The first building to go up in flames was the small city hall. His platoon commanders were breaking away and going into the residential areas looking for any open display in support of Cascadia.

As the hot flames began to engulf the city hall building he jumped off his tank and approached a line of half a dozen people who had been taken prisoner. He walked by each one and looked at them; all but the last man had their heads bowed down in fear.

“It was an easy request but you chose not to follow it. Now you see what you’ve brought upon yourselves?” he chastised them.

The fearless man at the end of the line spat at him.

“Stand him up!” Schmidt ordered.

Two of his soldiers rushed over and picked up the man, whose arms were tied behind his back.

“You spit on me, but this isn’t a shocker. You spat on the United States when you embraced your silly idea of independence. Our country suffers an attack and before the ashes settle, you people rush to abandon it. You pack of traitors; you lack any sense of loyalty. While the president fights every day to get the country back on its feet, you selfishly work to destroy those efforts.”

“Where were you when we were starving? Where were you when gangs came through here, threatening us?” the man scolded.

“Right there is a selfish comment. Just because we didn’t come and wipe your ass right away, you blame your government and seek to destroy it.”

“We don’t seek to destroy anything; we just choose to live how we want.”

“Again another selfish comment; it’s about what
you
want, not what
you
can do for your country!”

Screams, cries, and occasional gunfire could be heard in the distance as his men made their way through the small town, going house to house.

Horseshoe Bend was the first town they encountered where they had seen open displays of Cascadian support and would also be the first to feel his wrath. The tiny city hall sat upon the main highway so as his convoy was passing, Schmidt saw the Doug flag flying out front. He immediately ordered his troops to halt as he investigated. That is where things turned very bad for the townspeople of Horseshoe Bend. The local mayor admitted to being the first elected Cascadian in the town, and his council was also proud Cascadians. Within mere moments, Schmidt acted, ordering the people to be arrested and the town sacked. Taking lessons from the past, he knew the only way to end these groups was to crush them and all those who supported them.

“You won’t get away with this!” the man screamed.

“Get away with it? Do you know how stupid that sounds? Is someone going to arrest me? I’m not breaking the law, Cascadian, I
am
the law!” His face was reddened, dark energy coursing through his veins. “In accordance with the powers vested in me by the President of the United States, I declare you enemies of the United States. Your punishment for treason is death; this sentence is to be carried out immediately!” Schmidt barked.

Cries, moans, and begging spewed from the six captives.

“Lieutenant, carry out the sentence!” Schmidt ordered a man standing behind him.

“Yes, sir!”

Schmidt turned away and walked back to his tank. He pulled a small pad of paper out of his pocket and began to take notes. As he wrote he blocked out the intense scene that was unfolding behind him as his men lined up the six town leaders against a small hillside.

“Ready, aim, fire!” the lieutenant ordered. A short burst of gunfire followed, ending the cries and whimpers.

On his pad of paper Schmidt wrote July 10, then stopped. “What’s this little shit town called?”

“Horseshoe Bend!” one of his men called out.

“Thank you,” he answered as he wrote the name next to the date and closed his pad. Turning around, he shouted, “Let’s clean up this place. I want to be in McCall by tomorrow afternoon at the latest!”

McCall, Idaho

With the full support of every person and resource in McCall, Elle’s vaccine was distributed widely within twenty-four hours of her arrival. The sickest were treated first but eventually every person in town was given a shot. All were praying it would work, as there were no guarantees on its effectiveness. Miraculously, some of the sickest were showing signs of improvement.

Haley was one of the first to receive the vaccine. With Nelson’s help, she was given the shot, and by the late morning her fever was gone. However, she was not completely out of the woods, and Nelson worked immediately to address her kidney issues.

With Haley and the town on the mend, Gordon pivoted to tackle the other issues. He was a man who usually had a plan, but he couldn’t come up with one for Sebastian’s situation specifically. He knew how he could stop Schmidt, but not at the risk of his brother. Situated in a large conference room in the police station, or what Rainey now called “the command post,” Gordon pinpointed locations for an ambush on a map in front of Rainey, Michael, Charles, and Gunny.

“Gunny, you’ll be here at this location.” Gordon pointed to a small road that broke off from the main highway and crossed over a small bridge south of the much larger Rainbow Bridge.

“Got it,” Gunny answered.

“Set up ambush points here, here, and here,” Gordon said, pointing to several locations on the road. Based upon the topographical map, the area he had pointed to was where the road narrowed and heavy forestation would provide cover for his men.

“We’ll be up here at the Rainbow Bridge. I only have enough C-4 to blow this bridge, not the one to the south . . .” Gordon commented.

“Blow the bridge?” Rainey gasped.

“Only if we have to; it’s a backup plan in case our ambushes fail,” Gordon answered him.

“That would cut the one main route we have to Boise. We can’t do that,” Rainey asserted.

“We can still go there via New Meadows, but if we fail here they will cross over, and then there’s not much in between them and us,” Gordon stressed.

“He’s right,” Gunny said.

“Okay, I have trust in your plan, but it makes me feel uneasy.”

“I don’t want to do it either, but we can’t allow them to cross over it. To the south, we’ll have several points of ambush just in case they come up that way. The advantage we have is that the bridge to the south is very small and the road even narrower than the highway. They can get pinched there. If Schmidt is a smart man, he won’t commit all of his forces there, because there are a lot of choke points.”

Hollering reverberated through the door, disturbing the men.

Rainey looked up at the others and said, “What the hell is going on? I’ll be right back.” He walked away and opened the door, allowing the commotion’s sound to envelop the room.

One of Rainey’s police officers ran down the hall and stopped in front of him. “Chief, we just got a report from the southern checkpoint.”

“What is it?”

“A man just showed up and reported that he survived an attack to the south.”

“What kind of attack? Come on, man, spit it out.”

“I didn’t ask, sir.”

“Where is he?”

“They’re bringing him here directly.”

“We need to activate the teams, we need to get people into the field now!” Gordon barked.

“I agree, we need to mobilize immediately, just in case this is Schmidt,” Gunny agreed.

Rainey just looked at Gordon and said, “You’re in charge of these types of operations; the ball is in your court.”

Gordon nodded and turned to Gunny. “You missed my training but you obviously don’t need it. Here is a list of the men in your rifle company,” he finished as he handed Gunny a list of one hundred and twenty names.

Gunny snatched the list and looked it over. “These men have their own arms and vehicles?”

“Yes, addresses are next to their name, the asterisks indicate your platoon commanders, and the double asterisks are your squad leaders. I did the best I could with what limited time I had to locate these men and organize them. I’ve given you a Hummer with an M240 machine gun and you have all the Javelins. I’ll keep the TOW up north of the bridge.”

Gunny smiled and looked up. “Roger that, Van Zandt. Ambushes are easy, and if all fails we’ll adapt and overcome, right?”

“Right,” Gordon answered.

Michael was looking over Gunny’s shoulder like a curious child. “What can I do?”

“You’ll stay with me at the bridge.”

Rainey then spoke up. “Me?”

“Chief, you need to stay in town, organize fortified road blocks at all the choke points north of Donnelly along the 55, West Mountain Road, and Farm to Market Road. You’re in charge of the town defenses,” Gordon said.

“I’m on it,” Rainey responded.

“Gunny, go gather your men and rally in Donnelly. From there we’ll go to the Rainbow Bridge, set the charges, and place the ambush sites.”

“Roger that, I’ll see you in Donnelly.”

“Correct. Say, in ninety minutes? And we’re on channel one—use the radio protocol I have listed on the second page.”

“Roger that, I’m out.” Gunny marched out of the room and disappeared.

Gordon turned to Michael and said, “Here is the list for the other company of men. Help me rally them. Let’s meet at the Lake Fork Merc in an hour fifteen.” Gordon tore off the bottom half of the list and handed it to Michael.

“And me?” Charles asked.

Gordon looked at Charles. He didn’t know the man, didn’t know his talents or skills, but didn’t want to turn him away, given his new title as defense minister within the party. “It’s best you stay with me and watch. You know how to handle a gun?”

“Yes,” Charles quickly answered.

“Good, we’ll get you set up. Michael, see to that,” Gordon ordered. He clapped his hands. “Everyone has their jobs, so let’s do it,” he barked.

 • • • 

A car raced down the street and swung into the parking lot of the police station. A panicked man jumped out, running inside.

“We need help, please!” the man begged.

“Sir, please calm down!” a young police officer requested.

“They killed everyone, they just killed everyone!” the man screamed hysterically.

Rainey was still at the station working with some of his officers and making arrangements to fortify their checkpoints. Upon hearing the man he rushed out to talk to him.

“Who killed everyone?” Rainey asked.

The man swung around and said, “The military, the military!”

“Sir, calm down!” the police officer again asked.

“I won’t calm down, do something! They killed everyone and are coming here!” the man bellowed, his skin flush with fear.

“The military? What do you mean ‘the military’?” Rainey asked, stepping in front of the man. He held him steady by grabbing his shoulders and looking at him in the eyes. “What did you mean by ‘military’?” Rainey asked again slowly. He needed to know without a doubt that this was Schmidt’s forces.

“The United States military! They were Americans!”

The answer confirmed it for Rainey. His heart started pumping with the news. “Where did this happen?”

“Horseshoe Bend.”

“When?”

“This morning.”

Rainey turned to one of his officers and ordered, “Contact Van Zandt and Gunny Smith, tell them Schmidt hit Horseshoe Bend this morning.”

Rainey then focused back on the man. “Tell me everything. Give me details so we can prepare.”

“They were soldiers; they killed everyone who had anything to do with Cascadia. They killed them all, no question. If you were flying a flag or said you supported Cascadia, they killed you. I barely made it out,” the man said. His breathing was rapid as he spat out his answers.

“Did you warn the sheriff in Cascade?” Rainey asked. Cascade was the country seat of Valley County, thirty miles south of McCall.

“I did, I did stop by, but no one was there. I knocked but they weren’t there. I raced up here instead. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Sir, thank you, you’re safe here, so please sit down and rest. We’ll find a place for you to go in a bit.”

“What are you going to do to stop them?” the man blurted out.

“We’re working on that now.”

“How? How are you going to stop them? They have tanks, trucks, machine guns, and thousands of soldiers. How are you going to stop them?” the man yelled.

“Please calm down,” Rainey pleaded.

“Leave, everyone needs to leave before they get here. You have to warn everyone!”

“Enough, sit down!” Rainey yelled.

The man looked at Rainey. His panic had turned into uncontrollable hysteria.

“I’m going to tell everyone!” the man bellowed.

“No, you’re not. We don’t need others panicking. Take him into custody. Don’t let him go until it’s over,” Rainey ordered his officers, who jumped on the man instantly and subdued him.

“No, no, let me go, I don’t want to die!” the man screamed from underneath a pile of police officers.

Rainey stepped around him and walked outside the station to see if his commotion had drawn unwanted attention. The streets were empty, which gave him a moment of relief. With no more time to waste, he walked back inside and barked, “Let’s go, men, we have checkpoints to man. Let’s do this!”

 • • • 

The plan was set, and all sided with Gordon that the Rainbow Bridge needed to be rigged with explosives as a backup. If it came down to it, getting rid of the bridge was a sacrifice, but one that would stop Schmidt’s advance. If the plan went right, Schmidt’s forces would be trapped on the narrow highway with nowhere to go. They’d be sitting ducks pinned between a rocky cliff and the Payette River. Once they were trapped, Gordon would bring the brunt of his small but lethal force against them. It seemed like a solid plan, but Gordon’s experience told him two things: timing was everything, and to always, always expect something to go wrong.

Banks, Idaho

Schmidt couldn’t believe the hour. He looked at his watch again and then asked his driver the time. “Is it really nineteen thirty?”