Authors: L. Douglas Hogan
As Cade waited for him to arrive, his mind began to wonder what had gone wrong. He remembered Scott had scouted out Gorham originally and brought back a girl. She’d killed him with a pen and escaped. He’d then sent an entire raiding party out, and they, too, were presumably dead. Now, he had sent out two more and hadn’t heard from either of them. He knew Scott had sealed his own fate and Thomas was an idiot by all Cade’s standards, but Mark was dear to Cade. Maybe having the Gorham crew come wasn’t such a good idea. Cade had already lost more people and resources than he had bargained for.
Donald arrived and said, “You yelled?”
“Yes, Captain Obvious, I yelled. Go round up whatever you can—any and all men, guns, vehicles, everything. We’re going to Gorham one more time, and this time, it will fall.”
Denny was still at his turn of firewatch when he saw lots of movement. Several men began running from buildings and piling into vehicles. They were all doing U-turns and turning to face in his direction. Vehicles that he had figured as broken down or useless began to fire up. School busses pulled up to the street and men were loading into them.
“Guys, something big’s going down,” Denny said.
The others came and rallied behind him, looking through the white transparent curtain.
“What are they doing?” Denny heard one of the voices behind him ask.
“They’re getting ready for another search and rescue mission,” one of the little girls in the back said.
Denny turned around and looked at the little girl. Her mom, Chris, had her hands on her shoulders.
“It’s what we tell them when they leave like this,” Chris said.
“How often do they leave like this?” Denny asked.
The pastor looked at Denny and said, “Like this? Never.”
“It’s a raid,” Denny said softly as he rationalized it, then yelled when it came to fruition.
“IT’S A RAID!”
Denny stood up and grabbed everything. He was running for the back door, loading his backpack as he went. Most of his men followed. Warren and Andy hesitantly stayed back to offer assistance to the pastor and his family.
Jess was lying on her back, breaking twigs and the stems of fallen leaves, as she whispered sweet nothings to Nathan. It wasn’t her turn to watch, so Nathan didn’t mind the flirtatious behavior. It was refreshing for him to relax during a stressful situation.
“Movement,” Nathan said. “We’ve got movement.”
Everybody sprang to life and maintained a low profile as they peered over the berm. They saw vehicles moving off of the northbound and southbound lanes onto the road that ran east and west.
“It looks like they’re parking…” Nathan started to say, but realized what was happening. “Staging,” he said. “They’re staging.”
“We need to head back, now,” Jess insisted.
About that time, Denny and five of his men came running from around the berm and into their line of sight. Nathan, Jess, and the others had rifles pointed at them, because they didn’t know for sure who was coming.
“Boss, we have to go now. They’re staging another raid, and there’s no way we can beat them back.”
Nathan and the Posse took off towards the horses. They were short a couple men, but there was no time to waste. As they ran, Nathan turned on the PRC-77 radio that Buchanan had given him. He began to call out on it, but there was nothing but silence. He tried again and again, but got no response.
“Boss, it’s probably these dense woods and valleys,” Dennis said.
“Here, you try,” Nathan said, handing it to Denny.
Denny tried and failed the same as Nathan. The Posse stayed on track, pushing their way on foot towards their horses and losing time the whole way. In the near distance, they could hear diesel engines and trucks of various weights roaring down the road.
By the time they got to their horses, they could no longer hear the convoy engines. Everybody that remained in the group feared the worst-case scenario.
“What a fatal mistake I’ve made,” Nathan said to himself over and over again. All fifteen of them rode their horses hard. It would seem they were racing each other, but as it turned out, they were racing for the lives of those they loved. They were racing for the lives of those they shared memories and time with.
Minutes faded into timelessness as they rode. Their minds were bent on one thing, getting to Gorham in time to help in the fight. Nathan was in the lead, while those behind him lost ground and soon were gone. He wasn’t looking back, only forward as he rode with his head tucked for greater aerodynamics.
“They’re dying,” Nathan heard Denny yelling from behind him. This caused Nathan to ride all the harder.
“Nathan, they’re dying. The horses, Nathan!”
Nathan was so intensely focused that he failed to realize the context of what Denny was saying. It wasn’t until Denny could no longer be heard that he grasped what he was trying to say, but it was too late. Nathan’s horse stopped running and flopped over onto the ground. Nathan struggled to pull his leg out from under his horse, but the weight had pinned it tightly.
“It’s okay, boy,” Nathan said to his horse. “I’m sorry,” he said, realizing that he was alone and that his horse had given the ultimate sacrifice.
His horse’s breathing was shallow, and Nathan knew he was dying from overexertion. He lay on his back and looked for Denny and the others, but couldn’t see them. He returned his focus to pulling his leg out. It wasn’t until the weight of the horse caused an impression under Nathan’s leg in the soil that it was possible for him to get his leg out. It was just as Denny arrived, without his horse, that Nathan freed himself.
Denny pulled Nathan up to his feet and said, “C’mon, boss, we’re not there yet. My sister needs saving. Let’s move.”
Nathan and Denny were all that was left of the Posse. The others were left behind for the sake of getting a little closer to their destination.
They entered a clearing where they could radio contact Buchanan. About that time, a vehicle could be heard coming over the horizon from the direction they had already traveled.
It was a charter bus, and it was headed their way. They drew their weapons on it and waited for it to come closer. The bus was braking, and the two of them kept their weapons trained on the front of the bus as they walked on the roadway, bringing the door of the bus into view. When the door opened, their Posse members came running out.
“Let’s go,” they heard them yell.
Nathan and Denny ran for the bus and jumped on board with gladness, but sorrow still filled their hearts for the people of Gorham.
“Oscar Nine, Oscar Nine, this is the Southern Illinois Home Guard. Do you copy?” Denny said on the radio.
“Home Guard, this is Bravo One. I copy,” Buchanan returned.
“Bravo One, there is a large group of tangos heading to the nest. I repeat, there is a large group of tangos headed to the nest. Over.”
“Roger that, Home Guard. We are mounting up. Over and out,” Buchanan finished.
“I just hope it’s not too late,” Denny said, looking at Nathan.
Nathan noticed Andy was driving the bus and figured it had been swiped from Murphy. He then took a look toward the back of the bus and saw some new faces.
“Who are the strangers?” Nathan asked.
“We ran into this man and his family when we were spying on Murphy. He gave us shelter. He’s a pastor,” Denny added.
“We’re going to need one,” Nathan said. He then looked back at Rory Price and said, “Can you say a prayer for us, padre?”
“Will do,” Rory said as he stood and began to pray.
Nathan stood and did a quick headcount. “Twenty-one,” he said. “That’s everybody.”
Nathan stood up when the pastor was done praying and grabbed the microphone next to the driver’s seat. He looked back towards the group and began to speak. “Does everybody have a weapon?” he said as he raised his rifle into the air.
Everybody but the girls was carrying at least a rifle. Some had both a pistol and rifle.
“When we get there, there’s going to be shooting. If you are not armed, you need to stay concealed. I recommend the pastor and one other stay on the bus to defend his family and the bus. People will probably already be dead when we arrive. Try to keep your composure until we have cleared the area. There will be a time for mourning the loss of loved ones when we have concluded our work.”
Nathan sat back down and took a big deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“God help us,” he said.
Buchanan and almost a full company of Marines were responding as quickly as they could muster and hit the road. Fuel was a precious resource that was dwindling, and its preservation proved difficult to manage. Buchanan was just hoping he could get to Gorham quickly enough to assist. He had pulled every CAAT member he could, and left bare bones at the prison base, including Captain Riley and Gunnery Sergeant Franks.
The vehicles they had were internally regulated so that they could only travel forty-five to fifty mph. Working on the vehicles’ speed issue was something he had meant to do in the past. Now the mistake of not removing the regulators cost precious time and may cost several lives.
The Posse was rapidly approaching their destination. Dennis took note of a large plume of smoke spiraling into the sky from Route 3, and naturally assumed the worst. His greatest fear was that Heather needed him, and he wasn’t there as he’d promised he would be. Everybody that had volunteered themselves as a veteran was in the charter bus.
Jess was hoping the time she had spent with the girls on the range was paying off. Denny’s thoughts were of his sister, Heather, and her safety. Most of the others didn’t have relatives in Gorham. Jess was one of them. Her family was the Posse, now.
The bus came flying into Gorham. The first thing they saw was burning homes and mostly females being chased by armed strangers. There didn’t seem to be anybody taking serious notice of the large charter bus that was coming to a stop from a high-speed approach.
Perhaps they recognize the bus
, Nathan thought.
Every member of the Posse began analyzing what was happening. Each member was selecting an action to take when the bus came to a full stop.
The bus door flew open and the Posse ran out, guns blazing. Sixteen of the seventeen members ran out the door with their rifles shouldered. They were selecting targets and pulling their triggers.
Blake stayed on the bus with Rory, his wife, and children. Rory wanted to get in the fight, but he was concerned about leaving his family alone. He was facing a serious internal struggle, which included watching people outside the bus die while he sat inside with his family. His conscience could no longer weigh on him. Pastor Price kissed his wife and daughters and told them to stay in the bus. Chris tried to stop him, but he jerked away from her and said, “I can’t. I have to help. People are dying.”
Rory and Blake left together and joined in the fight. The first thing Rory spotted when he jumped off the bus was an elderly man dead on the lawn of a home. He appeared as though he had died of a gunshot wound. Not too far from him was a shotgun lying just out of the elderly man’s reach. Sitting on the porch was an elderly woman. He assumed she was the wife of the deceased. She was weeping bitterly.
Gunshots could be heard from every direction and the sounds of people wailing in terror filled the air. Rory looked around and saw many fallen men and women. He just stood there, as if confused for a moment. It was the sound of Blake’s voice that jolted him back to the moment.
“Get down, you fool. You’re going to get yourself shot,” Blake yelled at Rory.
Blake was taking cover behind the corner of the fallen man’s house. Rory peeked around the corner and told the old woman to get inside and take cover.
Blake looked around to see if he could spot any of his Posse brothers, but they were scattered into the wind. He took a moment to single out the sounds of individual gunshots. Maybe the sounds could be traced to members of the Posse firing on raiders. Sure enough, the next
pop
he heard was Morgan sending a round through the community. From his vantage point, Blake could not see if the shot had met with its intended target.
“Listen, padre, we can’t sit here like this all day. We’re going to have to move and shoot, move and shoot,” Blake emphasized.
“I’m not a veteran, mister, but I know how to shoot. I should be able to hit what I’m aiming at, but I don’t know who’s with us or who’s against us,” Rory said.
“Neither do I.”
Rory gave Blake a look of concern.
Blake caught the look and said, “Don’t ask. It’s a long story. Try to find a target that’s committing evil acts, padre. Our people are the good guys.”
Jess and Nathan stayed with Denny, because they knew he would need them in a worst-case scenario. They ran aggressively toward Heather’s home and ran right through the open doorway.
“HEATHER!” Denny shouted, running through each room. The house was empty.
The three of them ran back outside and quickly brought their rifles up to their shoulders, both sniping aggressors and scanning for Heather.
She was nowhere to be seen.
“Heather!” Denny yelled over and over again as he took off running towards his house.
Both Nathan and Jess shot as they ran, following Denny wherever he went.
Upon reaching Denny’s home, they noticed that his door was open, too. Zig was still lying on Denny’s bed, but he had a gunshot wound to the head and a dead man’s gaze in his eyes.
“He was unarmed,” Jess said in a soft voice. “What kind of evil…”
Jess didn’t finish her sentence, as she, Nathan, and Denny heard the sounds of a machine gun whirring outside. They ran out the front door and pointed their rifles in the direction of the machine-gun-mounted vehicle and the man on the gun. The man was shooting at a group of people taking cover in the old firehouse.
A man next to the machine gunner spotted Nathan, Jess, and Denny and shouldered his rifle at them and took a shot, missing Jess’s head by millimeters. She felt the wind of the round and heard the
whiz
it made as it passed by.