He wasn’t about to believe the enemy would just roll over and take those kinds of losses without some kind of retaliation.
“Let’s double our sentries,” he suggested. “If they do have something planned I don’t want to be caught by surprise.”
In spite of his caution the afternoon passed towards evening with not much activity from the valley below. Like Tam had said, the blockheads were changing up their emplacements to be less vulnerable to missile attacks: fewer personnel more widely spaced, supplies moved to other locations, and scouts dotting the area.
They were definitely upping their vigilance. They just weren’t doing anything else that he could see.
As the sun sank towards the horizon he made sure the fresh shift all had night vision, and warned them to be even more watchful than the day shift had been. He could imagine the enemy responding to the threat of missile launchers and M2s by staging sneak attacks in the dark. Small hit and runs to whittle the defenders down, without giving them a chance to bring their heavy weapons to bear.
That’s how he’d go about it, at least.
In spite of that worry he forced himself to roll into bed just after sunset to get some sleep, grateful that Jane was back to taking shifts with him. They had the same sleeping schedule now, and he was happy when she followed him into the tent and snuggled up beside him. He always slept a bit easier with her close by.
Although it turned out they both had things other than rest on their mind that evening, so they didn’t go to sleep right away. After enjoying some intimate time together, their first opportunity in what felt like way too long, they spent an hour or so holding each other close, quietly talking about things that had nothing to do with the blockheads or war.
Jane wanted to hear about his time up in the mountains last summer, cutting firewood and turning the hideout into a more sturdy emergency shelter. She’d already said it in so many words, but she was also hinting more and more that she’d rather be up there with him. If they didn’t have their current responsibilities.
Lewis didn’t mind the thought at all. Especially when she almost wistfully mentioned that if it was just the two of them to worry about, they could forego the contraceptives for a while and put serious focus into starting their family.
He had to reluctantly remind her that even if the blockheads left tomorrow, he still had a duty to care for his parents and sister and Trev’s family. The chance for their own future would come, but it wouldn’t be so simple as packing up and heading off to the hideout.
Jane also opened up about her own past. It was one of the rare times she was willing to talk about anything from her life before the Gulf burned, although she still refused to give any details about the time between then and when her group arrived in Aspen Hill. He knew her mother and father had both died during that time, and they’d gone through some pretty terrible trials. He respected that she didn’t want to open those wounds and didn’t pry.
In a way it was almost incredible to hear how ordinary her life had been before everything collapsed. Growing up as an only child, graduating college early with a degree in Accounting and working towards her CPA in Provo so she could stay near her parents. Her time spent in competitive shooting, and hunting or spending time at the range with her dad.
Lewis couldn’t help but wonder how different Jane had been before the Gulf burned, and how much she’d changed since. Would they have even had a chance to meet in normal society?
She eventually fell silent, and from the subtle change in her breathing he was sure she’d drifted off. Lewis had been drifting in an out for a while himself, and with his wife peaceful at his side he allowed himself to sink down into sleep as well.
Trev didn’t so much wake up as miraculously jolt up into a crouch while still inside his sleeping bag, slapping his head against the low ceiling of his tent.
In the few moments it took for his mind to catch up to his body, all he heard was the piercing wail of an honest to goodness air raid siren he hadn’t known the camp even had. Struggling to be heard above the deafening racket were the voices of men shouting in alarm.
He started to reach for his gun first, then thought better of it and snatched up the earbuds to his radio instead. It took two tries to fumble the first one into the wrong ear, but at that point he completely forgot about anything but listening.
“—still coming in fast directly for the canyon!”
“Shoot it down!” That was Davis, his usual no-nonsense bellow.
The Marine reporting in half laughed, sounding a bit wild. “Shoot it? I can barely see it, even with night vision! Only reason I know it’s headed our way is because it’s getting louder fast.”
The air raid siren abruptly cut off, almost immediately replaced by the sergeant’s voice on a bullhorn. “Everybody up! Grab your weapons and packs and anything else you can snatch up in two seconds. The camp’s about to come under attack, and if you dawdle you’re literally dead!”
Trev didn’t waste a moment shrugging out of his sleeping bag. All he grabbed were his boots, slinging them around his neck by the laces, his pack with his night vision goggles zipped in the side pocket, and his flack jacket with the gun belt wrapped around it and his rifle sitting on top of it.
Awkwardly juggling the heavy bundles, he crouched and grabbed the zipper, yanking it up. It snagged halfway to the top and might’ve even torn, but he didn’t care as he dove through the opening and scrambled to his feet dragging his gear behind him.
The main camp was a nightmare confusion in the dark. Only a few electric torches near the Marines’ tents and the coals of a few campfires lit the darting shapes of hundreds of people. The Aspen Hill camp was just as bad, with a few of his people stumbling out of their tents while others bolted off into the darkness.
Rick’s tent near his was jumping around so much it looked like the younger man was seriously getting busy in there. But from the younger man’s frustrated shouts it was obvious that in his panic he wasn’t having any luck with the zipper. Trev bolted over and grabbed the zipper from the outside, yanking it up, and his friend stumbled out towing his own bundle onto the dirt of the campsite.
“Thanks,” he panted.
Trev ignored him, fumbling in his pack’s pocket for the flashlight he kept alongside his goggles and nearly dropping his rifle in the process. He managed to get it out, flipped it on, and began waving it around. “Everyone to me!” he shouted. “We’re out of here in five seconds, even if you have to go in your boxers! Five! Four! Three…”
As he finished slowly counting down bodies surged towards him through the darkness, surprisingly not just from his camp but from the volunteer camps nearby. Trev led the way with his flashlight at a run, heading towards the nearby hillside and leaving the chaos among the tents behind.
There were still people scrambling around shouting in panic back there, and somewhere off ahead of him and to his left he heard Davis shouting evacuation orders through the bullhorn. But all the confused noises and sights faded to the background as Trev finally heard the dreaded sound: the thumping of a helicopter somewhere up above.
He’d gone barely a dozen feet up the slope when twin streaks lit up the sky, heading for the camp. Trev tried to call an order to get down, but it became an incoherent shout as he suited his own words, diving behind the nearest source of cover in a stand of scraggly trees.
The darkness exploded into brilliant white behind him, quickly replaced by the lurid reddish glow of fires. The panicked shouts became screams, some terrified but many pained. Trev lifted his head to peer through the undergrowth.