State of Rebellion (Collapse Series) (16 page)

“What?” He stirs, drawing me closer.

“Hear that?”

He opens his eyes, foggy with sleep.

“Oh,
great
,” he murmurs.

“Don’t be such a killjoy.” I wiggle out of his embrace and run through the restaurant, jogging outside. The sound is louder now.
Yes
. I head to the stretch of southbound freeway outside the restaurant.

“We’ve got air support coming in,” I say to a patrol at the road.

“Finally,” he replies.

I stand on the sidewalk, grinning. The silhouette of a biplane flits across the moon for an instant, circling a couple of times before coming in for a landing. It coasts into a tottering U-turn, comes to a slow halt and finally the engine cuts out. I approach the plane with a wide smile on my face.

“Manny, you idiot,” I laugh. “I thought something happened to you!”

“You thought wrong, my dear.” Manny stands up in the cockpit, goggles glinting with moonlight, flight cap sticking up like a dunce hat. “But I take it as a compliment coming from you. You must have been worried.”

“I wasn’t
worried
. I knew you’d make it here sooner or later.” I fold my arms across my chest as he climbs down, his boots hitting the ground with a
thud
. “But it’s nice to see you here either way.”

“I agree,” he says, pushing the goggles around his neck. His pupils are dilated with adrenaline. “You know how long it took me to find your bloody National Guard unit? Two days. I showed up at Sector 20 and the people there
told me that you’d
deployed
to the Chokepoint. What’s the big idea?”

“The idea is that we’re going to stop Omega’s advance into the valley,” I reply. “Why did it take you so long to get to Sector 20? You were supposed to be there a long time ago.”

“Said who?” Manny gives me a look. “I’m a volunteer. I’ll come when I’m ready to come.” He grins. “Now where’s the head fat cat around this place? I need to check in with him.”

“Chris is in the
Taco House
.”

“How fitting. What about Rivera?”

“He’s talking to the patrols.”

“Here we are in the middle of the war and he’s
talking
. Show me the way.”

“To Chris or Rivera?”

“Chris.”

I choke on a laugh, leading Manny across the concrete, through the single parking lot, and back to the
Taco House
.

“How was the flight in?” I ask.

“How
wasn’t
it, you mean.” Manny stomps through the front door of the restaurant, sizing up Chris, his boots propped up on the booth across from him, studying a map. “Greetings, Commander. Nice to see you’re still kicking.”

Chris replies, “What took you so long?”

“I was busy.” Manny stuffs his goggles and flight cap into the pocket of his leather duster. “And I hear we’re about to get a whole lot busier.”

“We’ve got a five thousand man army headed our way in twenty-four hours,” Chris answers. “And air support isn’t even here yet.”

“Don’t insult me, kid,” Manny sniffs. “
I’m
here, aren’t I?”

“No offense, Manny, but we need more than a biplane for this one.” Chris stands up, tossing a map to the ground. “You didn’t see any Omega troop movements from the air, did you?”

“Quiet as a tomb everywhere I looked,” Manny shrugs. “The militias in California have done a good job of reducing the concentration and labor camps.”

“True.” Chris’s gaze narrows. “That could change.”

“We’re going to be okay,” I say. A lie? Not quite. I’m reaching for positive here.

“So what’s the plan?” Manny asks, plopping down on a chair. Kicking his boots up on a tabletop. “We’ve got – what? – a thousand
men here? Five thousand coming our way. I’d say this is going to be interesting.”

“This is going to be
tight
,” Chris corrects. “If the Air Force can bring in their support for us on time, we stand a good chance. If not…. then we’ll just have to improvise. Use what we have here.”

“What’s Rivera’s plan?” Manny asks.

“We’re working together.”

“So you’re the big dog these days, then? Making all the decisions?”

“No.” Chris gives Manny a warning look. “Rivera and I share command. He’s got the guard forces and I’ve got the civilian militias.”

“Ah. By the way,” Manny says, digging in his pocket. “Your father wanted me to give this to you.”

He pulls a crumpled note out of his pocket and tosses it to me. I catch it neatly in the palm of my hand, unfolding it on the bar counter. I flick on the flashlight strapped to my belt. It’s an old piece of college ruled notebook paper. Dad’s handwriting is neat and clean, written in pencil.

I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you. But you’re not a little girl anymore, and you can make your own decisions. If this is what you feel is right, then I want you to know that I support you. I love you. You’ll always be
my
little girl. We will see each other again. I promise.


Love, Dad


I swallow thickly, overcome.

I read it over again. My Dad is a very non-emotional person. He doesn’t pour his heart out to people. This note is rare coming from him. It
means a lot. I hand it to Chris without a word, not trusting my voice to be steady.

“Don’t get all teary-eyed,” Manny mumbles. “I’m just a messenger.”

I roll my eyes.

“Enough,” Chris commands, handing the note back to me. He touches me on the cheek – a gesture meant to instill comfort. “We’ve got work to do.”

I nod. I leave Manny with Chris, excusing myself. I need some fresh air. Talking about what’s about to happen isn’t doing anything for my nerves, and I often find that taking a quick walk eases my anxiety.

As I leave the
Taco House
again, I notice the humidity in the air. The high temperature. I’m pretty sure we’ve got some major weather
headed our way. It
is
October, after all. A storm or two wouldn’t be unusual.

The other end of the encampment is the east side of the parking lot. It takes a long time to walk all the way over here. A tiny old convenience store behind a gas station is where the Colonel is. I check in with the guards and step inside. Dull lanterns illuminate the back of the building. Rivera is leaning against the counter, and Angela and Vera are there with him.

“Colonel,” I say.

He looks up, barely blinking.

“I’m busy at the moment.”

“I’m just checking in, sir.”

I take a peek at the maps they’re studying. They’ve circled different locations with sharpie pens, connecting dots with lines and scribbling around the edges.

“May I ask what you’re mapping out, sir?” I say.

“Strategy, Hart,” Colonel Rivera replies, straightening up from the counter. “Just reviewing what we already know. I’ve got a group of men scouting the surrounding area right now. They should be bringing back some valuable information by the time morning rolls around.”

“We agreed to keep our scouts within the Chokepoint,” I say, “because we don’t know how many enemy scouts Omega is sending out.”

We don’t want to lose men before the battle even starts.

“The National Guard is making sure the area is secure,” he states, emotionless. “Your Commander would agree with me.”

Would he? Was this something they discussed? I’m a Lieutenant. If there is
any
change to
any
plan, I know about it. Period. If Rivera is making independent decisions like this…

Colonel Rivera checks a couple of things before he heads out the door, leaving Vera and Angela and myself alone. “Manny arrived, I see,” Angela says. “Is he well?”

“He’s Manny,” I answer.

That’s an answer in itself.

“When Alexander’s platoon comes back, will we move our forces farther into the mountains?” Vera asks her mother. “Or will we wait for word from air support?”

“Whoa,” I interject. “Did you say
Alexander’s
platoon? Rivera sent Alexander out on a scouting mission to the Chokepoint?”

“That’s what he just said,” she states. “Were you not listening, Hart?”

“I was listening. He just failed to mention who he sent.”

“Alexander is under his command.”

“Alexander is under
Chris’s
command. If Rivera sent him out without consulting Chris…” I bite my lip. “Excuse me, Angela.”

I make a point of ignoring Vera in my goodbye.

Angela must notice the tension between us, but she has never asked why. Personally, I think that’s a great question. I wouldn’t hate Vera if she were actually kind to me and wasn’t always angling to steal my boyfriend.

I think I’m being pretty reasonable about the situation.

By the time I reach the
Taco House
again, Colonel Rivera has beaten me there. He’s discussing something with Chris, and judging by the raised voices, I’m guessing Chris just found out that the Colonel sent Alexander on a scouting mission without consulting Chris about it.

Frankly, it’s not
that
big of a deal. But Chris and Alexander are friends. Chris is probably angry that Rivera commanded
his
men and hurt that Alexander took the order without talking with Chris. Technically, we’re all volunteers and Alexander can do whatever he wants. If he wanted to go on a scouting mission, there was nothing stopping him.

But that doesn’t change the facts. Rivera shouldn’t have done this.

And we really didn’t need this kind of tension right before we move out tomorrow.

Don’t do this right now. We’ve got enough problems without crap like this.

“Cassidy,” Manny says, calling me from across the lot.

I clench my fists, following the sound of his voice. Spotting his lean figure near a streetlamp. “Don’t be so loud,” I hiss. “We’re trying to keep a low profile.”

“You’re going to want to see this,” he replies, his tone flat.

“See
what
?”

He nods toward the east side of the boulevard, at the mouth of the freeway onramp. A group of soldiers are gathering there, and there’s a hushed murmur breaking out. Curious, I join the group.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Nobody answers. A few militiamen are limping up the freeway onramp, bloody and bruised.

“Oh, my god,” I say, turning to the men. “Go get the field medics. Hurry.”

I gasp, recognizing Derek’s tall form walking up the ramp. A thick smear of blood mars his chest. “Derek, you went on the scouting mission?” I offer him my shoulders for support. He takes it, his breathing heavy. “What happened?”

“Ambush. Omega’s forward scouts,” he pants.

“Where’s Alexander?”

“He…fell behind.”

“
What
?”

Derek grits his teeth.

“I don’t know what happened to him. But he’s not here.”

A cold fist closes around my heart.

“Who else from our militia went on this scouting mission with you?” I ask.

“Just me.” Derek kneels on the asphalt, fighting to maintain steady breathing. “I gotta say, those Omega troops can pack a punch.”

“Where are you hurt?”

“Shoulder. It’s not too bad, it just hurts like hell.”

I get down on my knees beside him, my heart hammering against my ribcage. Alexander fell behind.

Alexander fell behind.

This is going to break Sophia’s heart.

Chapter Twelve

Air support has arrived.

But I’m not as excited as I should be. Sophia is in tears, panicked at the thought of losing Alexander. Truth be told, he could still be alive. But
falling behind
is usually just another way of saying
he got killed.

And we all know it.

The realization that somebody I’ve known personally might be dead hits hard. Alexander was never a touchy feely emotional guy, but you knew where he stood. He may not have been overtly talkative, but at least he got the job done. I may have thought he was a suspicious character when I first met him, but he proved me wrong.

Alexander was my friend.

I lean my head against Sophia’s shoulders, both of us sitting on the corner of a sidewalk behind the
Taco House
- Headquarters. It’s late morning. Hours have passed since Derek arrived with the scouting party, bloody and bruised. He’ll recover, but it’s a hard blow to have one of your best men injured and another one missing in action. It sucks. The only positive thing about this situation is the fact that a lot of the soldiers
in the militia sector of the National Guard are furious over Alexander’s absence. They’re ready to destroy Omega.

“He’s not dead,” I say. “Alexander is way too smart to die on a scouting mission. You and I both know that.”

“I don’t know that.” Sophia wipes her nose on the back of her sleeve. “I can’t be certain of anything anymore.”

“He’ll be okay.”

“That is
so
easy for you to say,” she snaps, suddenly angry. “It’s always been you and
Chris
as long as I can remember. But now that I finally found somebody who loves me, he’s
dead
.” She presses the palm of her hand against her mouth, stifling a sob. I don’t take her outburst personally. How could I? How would
I
be
reacting if it were Chris who fell behind and not Alexander?

I would be out there looking for him right now.

And maybe that’s the difference between Sophia and me.

I stand up and leave her in peace, having spent most of the day by her side in an attempt to comfort her. Unfortunately, there’s nothing you can say to ease the sting of a loss like this. So I won’t try.

Air support arrived soon after Derek and his men showed up from their scouting mission. My knowledge of aircraft is extremely limited, but Chris seems to be pleased by the force that’s here, courtesy of what’s left of the United States Air Force. We’ve got high-cover fighter bombers to take on enemy aircraft – and keep them from
bombing
us
here at base. We’ve got smaller aircraft, too, for scouting near the ground and keeping Omega’s foot soldiers at bay, if needed.

And two Blackhawks. Those are my favorite. Two hulking black masses of metal. When they arrived earlier, the ground shook and the windows in the
Taco House
nearly blew out as they landed in the parking lot. I’ve been told that they will be used to transport wounded soldiers and pick off the enemy from close range.