“None taken.”
“Top, you’ll help John convince the powers that be that we could use their help. Understood? It’s critical to our success. Let ’em know who I am—they’ll know I’m a good friend of Mark Harmon’s. Some others around might know me I hope. Say my name, say Connor Mac, again and again to get their attention. If nothing else, convince them to send some ammo, at least, if they can spare it.”
“Yes, sir, of course.”
“Top, you look like you just swallowed a bottle of Drano! Focus, man—this is mission-critical! Don’t worry about us. Worry about reaching that garrison as quickly as you can.”
“I understand, sir.”
“I hope to see your sorry ass back here in less than thirty minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Move it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“John?”
John McLeod edged closer with Rhonda by his side.
“Yeah, Mac?”
“I want you and Rhonda to take Cody, Renaldo, and Gabby to the Summit. Top will be your escort so you can concentrate on speed, not defense. Rice will run back cover. It’s my guess there’s a tollgate and garrison there. I’d almost guarantee it, but if it turns out there’s no garrison, keep hauling ass on Route 40 east until you reach Nemacolin. It’s about seven miles from the Summit on the left side of the road. I’m hoping you’ll find Mark Harmon there. The downside is I can only spare a horse for Jackson and one for Burroughs. Gabby can ride sittin’ behind Jackson. Rhonda, you can double up and carry Burrough’s body.”
“Okay, Mac,” she said.
“I know you can run, Rhonda, but you might have some trouble getting up that hill. Besides… you’ll need to keep Burrough’s body secure in the saddle.”
“I’ll do it, Mac.”
“Good.”
“Those two boys can run pretty well—don’t worry about them too much unless they fall too far behind. I know you can run too John, but I want you to keep up with Mickey. That won’t be easy, but give it a try.”
“Yeah, Mac, he’s like a machine.”
“He’s combat-hardened, John. He and Rice will keep you guys safe if conditions up there at the Summit go sideways.”
“Okay, Mac. I’ll keep up.”
“I know. I’d give you another couple horses, but I need them for our mobility against the front line of Phoenix’s army. The garrison commander is your objective, let ’em know our situation, and convince ’em to help us out. John, I’m counting on you to convince them. Mickey will keep you safe, but you’ll be our negotiator.”
“I understand, Mac,” said McLeod. “You know I’ll fight like hell for you guys.”
“Thanks, man,” said Connor appreciatively. He noticed Rhonda’s look of concern. “Don’t worry, Rhonda. This is gonna work out fine.” He caught the eyes of Cody and Renaldo. “You two, over here!”
The boys ran toward him and stood next to Rhonda. Gabby followed and stood behind them.
“You guys stay sharp and listen to what the major and Top tell you. Ya hear?” They nodded solemnly. “I’m not kidding around, boys,” said Connor. “You’re part of this military engagement and its success counts on you. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” said Cody.
“Yes, Mr. Mac,” said Renaldo, feeling a flood of emotion toward the colonel.
“You guys need to keep your eyes and ears open at all times and let the major or Top know what you hear and see—understood?”
Both boys nodded.
“Okay,” said Connor, nodding for emphasis. “Renaldo, Gabby’s gonna ride the horse up the mountain with Jackson, okay?”
“Yeah—I mean yes, sir.”
“Good. Stick close to her.”
“Yes, Mr. Mac. I always do.”
“Gabby, have Miss Rhonda help you into the saddle, okay?
“Okay.”
“Mr. Jackson’s hurt bad, so you help keep an eye on Mr. Jackson holding the horse reins. Can you do that?”
“Okay.”
“Good.”
Connor refocused on the boys. “It’s time to move. The shit’s gonna hit the fan and I want you well on your way before it does. Remember to keep sharp.”
“Yes, sir… I will,” said Cody.
“Yes, Mr. Mac, I will.”
“We’re coming right behind you, Renaldo, but at a slower pace. We plan to make a strategic retreat, and while we do that, we’ll kill as many of those… Motherfu… enemy as we can.”
“Mr. Mac… kill Phoenix. I don’t like him being alive.”
“Renaldo, I know what you mean—he’s sharing my air and he don’t deserve it. Believe me, kid—it would give me great pleasure to end his life. If I get the opportunity, you can consider him dead.”
Renaldo held Connor’s gaze and nodded once. “Go,” said Connor.
“Yes, Mr. Mac.”
Connor turned to the major. “Move out, John,” he said softly.
“On my way, Mac.” With a nod, John waved to Mickey and they started a slow trot, trying to keep up with the horses, but unable to after fifty feet.
“Rice, c’mere.”
“Sir.”
“Top fill you in?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want nothing on their ass up that mountain, understood?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Go.”
Rice ran after the team heading up the hill, but turned frequently to face downhill.
Rhonda slowed her horse to match the pace of John and Mickey. Gabby’s horse slowed to match the pace of Rhonda’s. The two boys easily kept stride with Mickey and John.
Connor tracked their progress. Nothing more could be implemented to assure their safety. Reluctantly, he turned back to the task at hand— a massive hoard of malicious deviants led by a psychopath was fast coming up the mountain highway. Connor didn’t care—the kids were gone and the only ones left in his group were seasoned veterans.
He smiled and there was a glint in his eye. This was gonna be fun.
CHAPTER 11.8-Burn and Bury
“I want those mother fuckers now,” said Phoenix. His voice was soft and quiet. Larry Reed would have been less concerned had Phoenix screamed this at the top of his lungs, but he said it with a faraway maniacal gleam in his eyes. Phoenix tracked the plume of roiling black smoke rise into the haze less than one hundred yards ahead. “Take me up there,” he growled to Larry. A few seconds brought them close enough to hear sounds of panic from his men and smell the charred flesh of the unlucky members of his army. Quickly, Phoenix exited the truck and walked briskly toward the chaos.
“Phoenix!” called Larry. “Phoenix! Get back here—there could be more explosions!”
He ignored his uncle and approached the crater made by the C-4 blast. Ignoring the smoke and smell, he nearly trod on a wounded man lying in the weeds next to the road. The man was almost unrecognizable as human—the skin on his face was blackened and cracked, oozing yellowish pus. The man’s shredded clothing continued to smolder and his right foot was turned completely around at the ankle joint. Phoenix realized that the man was still alive and trying to communicate, his lips cracking with the effort. Phoenix was fascinated with the man’s mouth. One side of his face was gone—the cheek, the eye, and part of the nose—and it gave Phoenix a good view of the man’s remaining teeth and his tongue, which lolled in his mouth, trying in vain to form an intelligible sound.
The wounded man’s voice was wet and thick and otherworldly, matching his alien appearance. When he tried to touch Phoenix’s shoe, Phoenix calmly unholstered his nine-millimeter and shot the man through the head. He lifted the radio to his lips.
“Luke, do you copy?”
“This is Luke—I read you loud and clear. Over.”