I shake myself, but the sting of Sophia’s betrayal is still there.
After everything that’s happened in the last week, this is the icing on the cake. I can’t deal with it. I don’t have the time or energy. So I take my damaged emotions, put them in a box, and throw the box out the figurative window.
It’s game time, and nothing will defeat me.
I twist around in my seat, keeping an eye on the convoy. The staging area by the rest stop is slowly emptying of all of its vehicles. The Blackhawk helicopters in the parking lot growl to life, slicing the air with their incredible blades. They rise into the sky, hulking masses that will defend the convoy from the air.
“I almost wish we were going back to Sector 20,” Uriah sighs. “At least we’d have some time to recover from all of this.”
I keep my mouth shut.
I would love to return to Sector 20, but that’s not an option. Not right now.
It takes a long time for the last of the convoy to finally fade into the distance. We are four vehicles idling on the side of the road. Two transport trucks and two Humvees. Our rescue unit — the unit that’s going to take on the entire Omega contingent.
“Okay, boys,” I say into my radio, “Let’s roll.”
Uriah steps on the gas, steers the Humvee into a tight U-turn, and just like that, we are heading south.
“Will Rivera come after us when they realize we’re gone?” Uriah asks.
“No,” I say. “It’s not worth it to him.”
I reach up and touch the gold shield necklace on my chest. A gift from Chris. It seems like he gave it to me such a long time ago, but in actuality, it hasn’t even been one year yet.
Things change so quickly.
We drive south on the interstate until we hit the cratered remains of the road destroyed during the fighting. The Battle of the Grapevine is what the men are calling it. Landmines and rockets ripped apart most of the concrete, and what the bombs didn’t get, Omega’s Air Force nailed on their strafing runs.
“There are still some landmines planted out here,” I warn Uriah. “This is where we’ll be taking the old roads.”
“How old, exactly?”
“Don’t worry, I know where I’m going.” I unfold a map from my bag. It’s a military map, full of exact coordinates, latitudes and longitudes. But what we will be using are the back roads, those that will take us to Highway 138. I know from intelligence reports that Omega rarely uses anything but the major interstates like I-5 or Highway 99. Highway 138 will be a safe way to get us where we are going: Lancaster, California.
“I’ll already be there before your trucks have made a U-turn,” Manny joked earlier.
“You’d better be,” I replied. “Because I don’t know who these people are.”
“Relax, my girl. Manny’s got it all under control. They’re old friends of mine.”
“How old? And exactly what do you mean by friends?”
Manny wiggled his eyebrows, then.
“I mean they’re not my enemies, and for the moment that’s good enough for me.” He paused. “Are you doing all right, though?”
I shrugged.
“Chris is gone, Jeff is dead, Alexander is MIA,” I said, “And now I’m the Commander of a suicide mission going to Los Angeles. Everything’s great.”
Manny tapped my cheek with one of his long, bony fingers.
“You can do it,” he told me cheerfully.
I’m not sure what he meant by that, but thinking back on the conversation gives me some peace of mind. Manny believes in me — and even if he is slightly eccentric, he’s proven himself to be a good soldier and an even better friend.
I trust him.
Sophia, on the other hand…
“This is it,” I say, pointing to an off ramp. The mountains rise high into the air, the peaks dusted with snow. Mud and puddles mar the road. Tire tracks zigzag along the potholed highway, an indication of Omega’s recent presence.
And on the side of the hills, there is nothing but charred, ashy soot from the battle fires.
“It’ll grow back,” I whisper.
Uriah gives me a weird look. I ignore it.
It was my idea to start a fire to push Omega back. This is the consequence.
I have always loved the beauty of these mountains, and seeing so much of it burned is painful.
Everywhere I go, Omega has caused destruction.
The Tehachapi Mountains are unique. They stretch for about forty miles in the southern quarter of California. There are few pine trees or cedars here. It is mostly grassy hills and land best used for grazing cattle. The terrain is steep. In a few places, trees and shrubbery are thick.
I keep my eye on the three vehicles behind us.
It’s an hour drive from the bottom of the Grapevine to the rendezvous point, but it will take us longer because we are traveling slower. We have to keep an eye out for Omega scouts or rogue militia forces. The dangers of traveling without the rest of our convoy are immense. We are on our own.
We are deserters.
For the time being, at least.
Thinking about what we’ve done brings a sour taste to my mouth. I feel guilty for leaving the National Guard behind, but in my heart I know that this is the right thing to do. It’s not just Chris we’ll be rescuing if we’re successful, anyway. It will be other militia officers that have been captured, too.
“Hey, are you seeing this?” Uriah asks.
I look up from my map.
“Wow.”
The sun is hitting the snow-lined peaks just right, creating a prism of light. It’s almost heavenly. I admire it for a long time before saying,
“Not everything can be destroyed by Omega.”
Uriah nods.
We’re on a little known back road that winds through the mountains. We’re out in the open, exposed. It makes me nervous. The mountains rise up on each side of us as we roll into a small grazing valley. Broken cattle fences line the side of the road. Two ranch houses stand in the distance. It’s hard to tell, but it looks like they’ve been burned from the inside out.
An accident? Probably not.
“I don’t know Manny as well as you do,” Uriah says quietly. “I hope you trust him enough to believe in his friends.”
“Manny is a good soldier,” I reply simply. “He knows what he’s doing.”
Most of the time.
Uriah doesn’t look too sure. It doesn’t make me any more confident about my decision.
Why did they have to vote me Commander? I think angrily. I don’t want to be in charge. I just want to rescue Chris.
I’m not a leader. I’m not.
After forty-five minutes of driving, the mountains loom closer, crowding the road. The trees are thicker here.
“We’re almost there,” I say. I look at the map. “There should be some kind of a basin coming up. It looks like a lake.”
“You mean that?” Uriah tips his head.
I stare at a huge hole in the ground. There is no water left. Only mud and sludge, an aftereffect of the heavy rain.
“Yeah, that,” I reply.
I scan the landscape. The road begins to climb upward, winding around the base of a huge mountain. We grind onto a gravel access road for a good half hour. I keep my eyes trained on the road, trying to avoid thoughts of ambush.
The pain of being separated from Chris is physical. Like a knife in the chest.
Please, God, I pray. Let him be alive.