“How much further to the top?”
“What, you got a date, Jackson?” asked Connor.
“No sir. Just wondering.”
“No more than 300 yards. It cuts sharp around a small bend.”
“Yes, sir.”
They arrived onto Grandview Avenue atop Mount Washington with little fanfare. A careful fifteen minutes of crossroad reconnaissance suggested no human activity or hostiles in the area. A small black and white rat terrier made its way past with a fat rat in his mouth. Noticing the team, the dog gave them a wide berth. It was well fed and had adapted quickly to its namesake. Five minutes later, they slipped onto the weed-infested sidewalk and turned left. Both Jackson and Roger maintained strict overwatch while the team moved.
“We’re heading west,” said Connor to John, “We’ll make our way to Allentown and Mt. Oliver and then into Carrick this way.”
“Okay.”
As a unit, the team moved smoothly up the roadway slope. Connor caught up beside Rhonda. “You’re doing real good, Rhonda. You’ve learned to travel silent and well purposed.”
“Thanks, Mac.”
“Good deal, then, keep at it.”
“You’re something, Mac. You know that? Right when I’m starting to feel tired and low, you come over to check on me… and give me positive feedback.”
“Well, I just wanted to point that out.”
“I know. That’s what makes you such a good leader. It comes natural to you.”
“I don’t know ’bout that, but thanks just the same.”
“You’re welcome. Nice job at the tunnels, too.” Rhonda smiled.
Seeing the twinkle in her eyes above that smile, Connor realized she had figured out his true purpose in deploying Cody into the tunnel with him and Marty. He smiled in return. “You are gonna tell me what you did before the Sickness hit, Rhonda.”
“I am?”
“Yes, you are, if I have to torture it outta you.”
“Like I said before, I simply ran a small company.”
“Funny how you can’t recall the name or how big? I know I’ve seen you somewhere… on TV.”
“It’ll come back to me.”
“I’m sure it will.”
They came across the first of many concrete overlooks created as scenic viewpoints purposefully built for tourists long before the Sickness. Standing on a thirty-foot circular platform edged with wrought-iron railing, tourists took in a breathtaking panoramic view of the city. The overlook still appeared structurally sound.
“You think we can take a closer view of the city, Mac?” Curious, Rhonda posed the question. Nearby, Cody, Jude and Jason nodded at her inquiry. In the bright sunshine, the view of the city beneath puffy white clouds was already tantalizing.
“Well… I dunno.”
Moving closer and catching up to Connor, Marty leaned close in to speak. “I’m against it, Mac. Too exposed.” He had completed a fair amount of scoping the city as they moved; there was simply too much to see.
“Who’s to deny Rhonda and her boy a glimpse of my hometown?” Connor Mac updated the team with new orders. They were going to take a short respite and take in the view the city. “If we slide in low, very low, to the edge, we can take a quick look. I want no more than your forehead and eyeballs showing when you peek out at the city, understood?”
The team agreed.
“Rhonda? Cody?”
“Yeah?” said Rhonda for the both of them.
“You got it?”
“Uh, huh.”
Cody nodded.
“Jude? Jason?” Both nodded at Connor. “You go with them.”
“Yes, sir,” said Jude.
“Okay, sir,” said Jason.
“Marty, Roger, close cover our six. Jackson, maintain overwatch. I want you to keep an eye on those two houses across the street. Glass ’em every other minute. I want to be one hundred percent sure about them at all times. BB, I want you to tuck them horses in between the two homes we just cleared. That way, we can spend a bit of time on our little sightseeing trip.”
“Yes, sir,” said BB
“Okay, sir,” said Roger.
“Understood, sir.” Jackson separated into overwatch position.
Marty shifted closer to Connor. “Copy that, Mac. But, if we’re going to anyway, I’d sure like to take a deeper scan of the city from that vantage point.”
“A good idea, Mac,” said John.
“Do it. Yeah. I like that. First in, then. Go. I’ll take close cover with Roger.”
Marty slipped low, crawling onto the overlook. He reached the edge and took some time to scan the entire city. Using his sniper scope, and sometimes his naked eye, he sought out targets of threat and danger. After a moment, he motioned Rhonda, Cody, Jude and Jason forward.
“Wow,” said Rhonda. She settled in to absorb the full view.
“Fuckin’ beautiful,” said Jason.
“Yeah,” said Cody, “Fuckin’ beautiful.”
“Cody!”
“Sorry, Mom.”
“I’ll bet it was pretty at night,” said Jude.
Jason was still smiling at Cody’s near perfect voice imitation when he noticed Marty was waving Connor onto the platform with some urgency.
“What’s he see that’s got him all riled up?” asked Connor.
“Dunno, Mac,” said McLeod.
Marty sent Rhonda, Cody, Jude and Jason off the overlook with urgency. They slid back carefully from the edge until out of direct view. Connor turned to Roger. “Roger, you’re solo close cover. McLeod, keep an eye out.”
“I’m on it, sir,” said Roger.
“Sure thing, Mac,” said John.
Connor settled in next to Marty only to catch him swearing hard under his breath.
“Surf Boy? What’s up?”
“Men, a shitload of ’em! All armed. Horsemen. Multiple white trucks on the move. They’re coming across that bridge there. See?”
“Where?”
“Left. Ten o’clock.”
Connor grabbed his binoculars. Quickly, he motioned John onto the overlook and into the discussion. McLeod settled next to Connor, intrigued. The sounds of gas combustion engines carried faintly on the wind as it came across the river and up onto the Mount Washington overlook.
“That’s the West End Bridge,” said Connor.
“Okay.”
“Wow. I see it now. That’s a shit slew of men. They’re purposed and organized, like a functioning unit of some kind.”
“Yep.”
“Not any military unit that I know,” said Connor.
“Nope. See what they’re doing?”
“Yeah, they’re clearing the bridge. Might take ’em awhile. I make out at least forty running trucks, all white, behind them. No wait, there’s more trucks. Look at the size of that cavalry… damn that has to be over 200 men easy… shit.”
“Mac!” Marty had continued his scan of the bridge, near the edge where men had clustered.
“Talk to me, Surf Boy.”
“Those men! They’re from Cleveland. I think that’s Phoenix’s army.”
“Phoenix?”
“Yeah. The boss man of Cleveland.”
“I know who Phoenix is, Surf Boy. But we’ve never had a visual. So, how can you be sure?”
“I recognize those guys wearing the brown and orange headbands from the Hall of Fame.”
“I see.”
“I put enough fuckin’ bullets into them people, yeah.”
“Okay. You know… that is Cleveland’s colors. Fuck me, what’s his army doing here? I wonder if he’s with them?”