Sue whispered in my ear. “That is probably over a thousand people, right there.”
I hadn’t realized she had slipped up behind me. Another radio operator said there were at least, two other convoys forming, and all would arrive by morning. Sue gave me a jab in my ribs. When I didn’t say anything in response, she raised her voice and said loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, “Captain Bill should have told you how much he appreciates what you’ve done.”
“I-I do,” I stuttered.
The radios we used were CBs and the like. All with a limited range, often measured in single-digit miles. However, there were others out there with radios that reached another five or ten miles, and a few short-wave radios that reached thousands of miles were reporting in. The word was spreading rapidly. Instead of fighting to survive a faceless disease, we began to understand that the blight that had rotted the bodies of our families and friends had been introduced. That knowledge created deep anger in us in a way I’d never seen before nor even begin to comprehend.
My working premise of the events made sense. The flu had been released and had spread the blight nationwide within a few short days. It was preprogramed to last a week before it died off. The blight had a built-in factor that limited the life of the infection or the biological agent that spread it. No new cases. That should have been the clue all along.
Once the blight had killed off eighty or ninety percent of us, and the country descended into chaos, our unknown enemy would simply arrive on our shores and take over our lands, buildings, roads, water, natural resources, and industries. Done correctly, they would probably have powerplants up and running in days. In a year, they would control the entire country and everything in it. The survivors would become slaves for the invaders.
After the ships brought troops, they would bring the immigrants, the new owners of the land, buildings, and roads. Farms were ready for them to harvest, orchards ready to pick, and cattle ready for slaughter.
The outrageous audacity contrasted sharply with the ease of the plan. Right now, we were the only ones holding things up, unless there were more landings up and down the coast. I chastised myself. Of course, there were. Troopships were probably landing at dozens of west coast ports.
I turned to the radio operators and said, “Are any of you in contact with short-wave operators?”
“I am,” one said.
As I explained my thoughts, his face tinged red with anger and he ground his teeth. He said, “I will get the word out. In hours, I’ll have pickups loaded with red-necks and their guns heading for everywhere on the west coast. The radio operators in the ports where the enemy has landed will direct our people where to go.”
Sue said, “They might have ten thousand men at each port. And the east coast and Texas.”
The operator spat, then said, “When I’m done here, there’ll be a hundred thousand of us to push them back into the sea anywhere they land.”
“Do it,” I said as I placed my hand on his shoulder and stood.
The eyes of the men and women began following me wherever I went, like a Rockstar walking a crowded street. Sue and Steve had to order them to stay back several times, so I could move ahead. Each wanted to talk, some to thank me, and others to simply touch my shoulder or my bare arm.
They didn’t understand I was nobody, an accidental hero who happened to be in the center of an emerging action. If I walked down to the shore and walked on the water, they wouldn’t have been surprised. For me, I waited for a real leader to appear so I could avoid the attention.
I also feared what would happen when they discovered I was a sham, a pretender like my cousin and his over-sized bike. The more I’d tried to evade leadership, the more it had been thrust on me. I turned and saw Truant’s mast in the distance. I longed to be back aboard with my two friends. Maybe that could still happen.
Steve touched my arm and when I paused in my idle walking, he leaned closer and whispered, “It’s almost midnight. Time to make a decision about withdrawing.”
At midnight, I was supposed to send everyone away to prevent them from being slaughtered in the morning. So far, we’d held our own with the minimal number of troops that had landed on either side of us, but I suspected the enemy was not supposed to attack in force until dawn when more boats had shuttled additional troops to shore under the cover of darkness. When that happened, they had their foothold.
With the heavy cloud cover, and the gunboats were operating without lights, they were going back and forth, ship to shore, each of them ferrying twenty or thirty soldiers with each trip. If my guess was right, at dawn they would attack our position from both sides of the pier and in an hour or two, they would control it. Then they would pull the first ships in and unload their men and equipment.
At that time, we would be lost. Ship after ship would unload at the pier, two or three at a time, and there might be many more on the way. If that happened, the ensuing war would be long and difficult to win.
I said reluctantly, “I know I said we’d send everyone away at midnight, but if we do, then what? Tomorrow? The day after? When those ships unload and set up here, the majority of us may live a week or maybe a month, if we withdraw. But in the end, they will win and all of us will die.”
Sue said, “If you ask them to, everyone will agree to stay. No matter what the outcome will be. Just tell them the truth.”
Steve said, “If you try to send them away, they won’t go. I’ve overheard them talking. They may not know all the details yet, but they understand and are spreading the word. This is our last stand.”
I sat on the fender of a trashed Ford with four flat tires. Sue tried to get me to sit inside the tents where I was not such an easy target if one of the invading soldiers managed to get within rifle range. I didn’t want to be inside. I wanted to fight. Without forethought, I said, “Steve, can you get me a rifle?”
He didn’t question the request out loud. He simply slipped into the dark and returned a short while later, an automatic rifle in his left hand, and two more carried on straps over his right shoulder. He wordlessly handed one to Sue and then one to me. He ejected his magazine and when satisfied, he shoved it back in and slapped it home with the heel of his palm.
I saw the time on his watch on his wrist. A quarter of an hour after twelve. Sue sat in the fender to my right, and Steve stood to my left. We held our weapons balanced across our knees. At daylight, we’d be fighting for our lives.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I kept an eye on Steve’s watch. It was almost twelve-thirty when the first explosion erupted on a ship. The flash of orange was blinding because we were looking almost directly at it. Then another explosion sounded. After that, it was like one of those fireworks displays that have firecrackers linked together.
There were so many almost simultaneous explosions we couldn’t count them. Far more than seventeen, enough to account for the seventeen ships. More than twice that many, maybe three times. The kayakers the SEAL must have planted fifty or more charges on the hulls, two or three on each ship. Maybe more. All set to go off at the same time.
The entire port was alight with the fires on the burning ships. In that flickering light, some were already listing to one side or rapidly sinking. Isolated cheers broke out near us. Most watched in stunned horror and wonder, a strange contrast in attitudes. Here and there were more explosions on the ships as ammunition, bombs, fuel, or whatever they stored exploded.
Ten thousand troops, plus the mechanics, cooks, navigators, officers, and crews of the ships were fighting for their lives—those still alive. I felt more like puking than cheering. How many of those deaths were directly attributable to me? There was no way to know.