Lewis didn’t mind that, though. In fact, he’d even planned for it; there was no downside to the enemy not coming into the canyon, and if they thought they were safe on that hill they had a nasty surprise coming. Although that was an opportunity for another day; right now he was just happy with how things had gone on this raid.
Besides, he had to make sure to make the most of those sorts of opportunities, which meant careful planning.
Even with his most optimistic predictions, Lewis expected the blockheads to react quicker to any attacks than the Aspen Hill defenders had. As professional soldiers they’d probably be better trained to deal with them, and more quick to find a way to do so. That meant he needed to make every attack count, but he also couldn’t afford to get too daring since at any moment he could get outmaneuvered or outthought.
Not to mention the blockheads had at least one helicopter, the one that had attacked Davis’s group down along Highway 31. That chopper had wreaked havoc with little to no risk to itself, killing several fighters and destroying Aspen Hill’s second Browning M2, donated to the sergeant by Matt’s volunteers.
If Lewis’s raids were too effective in attacking the blockheads entrenched in their town, there was every possibility the enemy might send the helicopter over. If they did it could blow them up from the sky, with nowhere to run or hide.
Lewis could admit that the possibility genuinely terrified him. It was the difference between when the town had fought Turner’s few dozen raiders, even though they were well equipped, and fighting the armed forces of another country.
He had no idea how to even begin trying to deal with an attack helicopter, and Matt’s account of Gutierrez scaring it off with missiles wasn’t reassuring. It had been relatively close and hovering fairly stable when the former soldier missed. It would’ve learned from that close call, too, and next time would stay farther back and use its weapons from a safe distance.
Turner, with his trucks shooting missiles from a mile away, had nothing on a helicopter that could do the same thing from even farther up in the sky. If a chopper did come after them there was no preparing, no clever tricks that would save them. Their best bet would be to hunker down someplace relatively protected and hope the bird missed with whatever it threw at them, then went away.
That solution didn’t satisfy him at all, but he honestly couldn’t think of an alternative.
During the scare with the trucks following them Jane had settled down across from him, seemingly in her own world wiping her hands over and over on her uniform pant legs. She was wearing an expression of distaste.
She wasn’t the only one. As they got farther and farther into the safety of the canyon his dad scooted down the bench to sit beside him. He started to put a hand on Lewis’s shoulder, then looked at the hand and hesitated.
“We need to get washed up,” he said. He sounded more tired than distasteful.
Lewis nodded. “You did good.” He raised his voice for the others. “All of you did.”
Uncle George, sitting up near the cab, paused in rubbing wearily at his eyes underneath the night vision goggles, then took them off completely. Their imprint gave him an owlish look, and his expression was hard to read. “Yeah, we did good,” he said. “If it had to be done, we did good.”
There were a few murmurs of agreement from the others, then everyone seemed to fall into their own thoughts. Jane came over and leaned against him, switching places with her father-in-law, and Lewis put an arm around his wife and continued staring out the back.
Before too long they drove high enough up the steep switchbacking road to meet the first rays of the morning sun peeking over the horizon to the east. Down below he could see blockhead vehicles converging on the burning buildings around the shelter, the few that had already arrived disgorging soldiers to scour the area. There’d be no good news for them.
At the top of the canyon Catherine Tillman was waiting with a group of defenders, just in case, and his dad had entrusted her with the detonator during the raid. She and those with her looked delighted to see they’d all returned and had brought so much with them, and there was a bit of a celebration as they stopped the trucks and piled out. A mostly one-sided celebration, admittedly, with the volunteers still subdued by the night’s events.
“This went better than I could’ve ever hoped,” the Mayor admitted, stepping away from embracing her daughter to rap the hood of the nearest truck with her knuckles. “I was half afraid I wouldn’t see any of you again.”
“What we managed to bring back should help the town,” Lewis offered.
Catherine nodded, although her eyes strayed to the fires visible below. “We’ll just have to see if it’s worth whatever the enemy response will be.” She shrugged and turned back to him a bit apologetically. “Sorry, don’t mean to rain on your parade. How about you and your volunteers head back to the refuge and get some rest? We’ll stay here and keep watch on the blockheads, just in case they get any ideas of hitting back.”
Lewis had no arguments. He was exhausted, and nothing sounded better than washing up and crashing until sometime that afternoon. He motioned to his people, who returned to their new vehicles while he hopped in the back of the one they’d come up in with Jane and the others.
To his surprise Uncle George waved for them to go on without him, insisting he wasn’t tired and preferred to stay behind for a while. It was his decision to make. Maybe he had the same problems sleeping Lewis did, or maybe he was afraid he’d have problems sleeping for another reason.
Either way Lewis wasn’t about to go looking for anything that kept him from getting some much needed rest. He’d probably have to assign some defenders to guard the vehicles and the stuff in them once they got to the refuge, but hopefully that would be the full extent of his duties and then he could crash.
Although to be fair, he supposed these days there was never a reason to complain about having supplies, weapons, and vehicles worth defending. Even if guarding them ended up being a hassle.
The raid couldn’t have gone better, and he intended to make sure the next one went just as well.
Chapter Two
Visitors
Visiting trucks weren’t common, but they came around the camp every now and again. Which was why the arrival of three heading southeast down Highway 31 caused a commotion rather than an uproar.
Then again, none of the other visiting trucks had been obviously Gold Bloc. With the exception of the one Vernon had brought, which was currently parked near the command tent with Davis’s other vehicles. So the approach of three potentially enemy trucks coming from the wrong direction did come close to an uproar.
At least enough of one that Trev paused in instructing an older volunteer on how to properly reassemble her M16, turning to watch as the vehicles pulled into camp. The fact that none of the Marines were freaking out at the sudden arrival suggested that the visitors had called in their approach, so there was no reason for him to freak out either.
Or so he thought, until he saw Lewis hop down from the driver’s side of the lead vehicle.
“Rick, you’re in charge!” Trev yelled, bolting for the main camp and leaving the training grounds behind without a second look. His cousin saw him coming, and barely paused to shake the hands of the Marines who came to greet his group before trotting over to meet him halfway. He left behind Jane, Ed Larson, and Uncle Lucas all still getting out of the blockhead vehicles.