“I see him,” Trev said, peering through his scope. “I don’t recognize him but he’s probably one of Ferris’s people.”
“All right,” Matt said into the radio. “Stand down but be ready to shoot if he reaches for his rifle. Let’s see what he wants.”
As the raider approached Lewis finally appeared from around the side of the building to the right of the roadblock, panting like a bellows. His arrival precipitated a sudden hush from the roadblock’s defenders, and as he stumbled over to join Trev and their friend several people murmured appreciative words or even stepped forward to shake his hand.
Lewis reached them in time to endure Trev’s crushing hug and Matt gripping him around the shoulders. “Are you all right?” their friend asked.
“They were too surprised to even shoot back at me before I was gone,” Lewis said between panting breaths. Then his cousin abruptly continued, tone businesslike. “Has the guy coming up the road reached us yet?”
That turned everyone’s attention back to the approaching raider, who was now almost within shouting distance of the roadblock. Matt clambered onto the lefthand car and yelled for the soldier to stop where he was. The man immediately complied, lifting his head from an intense inspection of the road so his helmet no longer hid his face.
Trev didn’t recognize him, but from the way Matt stiffened his friend obviously did. “Private Gutierrez?” he called, surprised.
The man flinched slightly. “Please don’t use my rank,” he called back. “I don’t consider myself worthy to be addressed as a member of the US Army. Just call me Raul.”
Trev did his best to keep his expression neutral. He could certainly agree with that. “Why are you here?” he yelled, climbing up beside his friend. Lewis, more pragmatic, had joined other defenders in lining up a shot with their rifles in case Gutierrez tried anything.
The man looked away for a moment then met their eyes, one after another. “I’m done with Ferris’s group. I’ve come to join your side, if you’ll let me.”
“I’ve got some questions first,” Matt said cautiously. “Kick away your rifle and get to your knees, hands on your head.” The former soldier complied, although rather than mishandling a weapon he obviously had great respect for he set it down carefully and moved away a safe distance. Matt had Trev run forward to pat him down and bind his hands behind his back with zip ties, then retrieve his rifle and lead him to the roadblock.
“What do you mean, you want to join us?” Matt asked as he helped the restrained man over the car.
“Just what I said,” Gutierrez replied, still having trouble meeting his eyes. Trev watched him suspiciously from behind and to the side. Guilt, or deception? “Being part of Ferris’s group isn’t who I am. Who I want to be.”
“That’s who you were, though,” Lewis argued, finally slinging his G3 on his back. “Who you’ve been all this time. Why the sudden change?”
Matt gave him an annoyed look. “Let me handle this.”
“It’s okay, he’s right,” the former soldier said. “I won’t pretend I was just an observer to things when I was with Ferris, or try to excuse my actions. I’ve done stuff I’m not proud of, obeyed orders I knew were wrong, and kept doing so long after I knew it was my duty to refuse those orders. I watched innocent people get hurt and did nothing to stop it.”
“So why come to us?” Trev demanded, trying to sound stern rather than harsh.
“Because I can only lie to myself so much. Ferris took a lot of things from a lot of people, but most of the time he didn’t have to do more than push around a few upstarts who balked. He kept insisting he was doing his best not to hurt anyone, and I was able to fool myself into thinking that he meant it. But I always knew it was a lie when I watched him order Turner to execute any prisoners we’d captured, those who tried to defend themselves after he’d given them his ultimatum about surrendering. Sometimes he’d even execute them himself.”
Gutierrez shuddered. “I never hurt anyone, I just helped take their stuff. I tried to tell myself if I wasn’t hurting them I wasn’t hurting them, you know? But deep down I knew what it meant to leave them in the cold with nothing. It’s eaten at me all winter, especially as Ferris got more and more brutal with anyone who resisted, but I was afraid that if I left the group I’d be in the same situation as everyone else and I’d end up starving to death too.”
The would-be defector raised his eyes from Matt’s chin to meet his gaze. “What your town just did woke me up. Everyone else in the convoy is pissed off and ready to rip this place apart, but I was actually cheering you guys on for being the first group that not only had the courage to resist but also the ability to maybe fight us off. Before I left to join you guys I tried to argue with the others that maybe we should just leave your town alone, but nobody would listen to me. They’re out for your blood.”
He shuddered. “I never thought I was with good people, but I at least thought they had some morals. Now I know better. You don’t want to know the things they were talking about doing to you after your sniper killed Ferris and Turner.”
There were murmurs from the other defenders, and Matt shared a grim look with the cousins. “Is the convoy going to attack?”
“I don’t know,” Gutierrez admitted, sounding eager to answer and a bit crestfallen that he couldn’t. “I’m guessing that with Ferris and his second in command gone leadership will probably fall to a guy named Joaquin, leader of a small group of raiders Ferris took in rather than fighting them. Him or maybe Berthold.”
Matt nodded. “Berthold commanded the FETF detachment under Ferris last fall, right?”
The soldier nodded. “Although he hasn’t had nearly as much influence since Turner knocked him down a peg and sort of took control of the, uh, former US soldiers working for Ferris. Berthold’s not quite as brutal as Turner or Ferris were, and with them gone he might take over. If so that’s good for you because there might not be a fight at all.”
“How many people are in the convoy and what weapons do you have?” Lewis asked.
Gutierrez was eager to answer, and thorough in his descriptions. It turned out that there were 46 people left in the convoy now that Ferris and Turner were dead, possibly soon to be 45 if the missile launcher handler Lewis had shot in the shoulder didn’t make it.
They were fairly well equipped, too, because the FETF camp at Antelope Island that had been taken over by refugees had been well supplied with weapons as well as food. It had resulted in a lot of bloodshed in the next few weeks, but also an opportunity for Ferris to make a big score.
After leading his group north the former administrator was able to take control of a weapons cache from the gang that held it, getting enough fuel to begin raiding nearby areas as well as capturing the trucks the convoy was using at the moment. He also got his hands on military grade weaponry like dozens of M1As, three missile launchers and nearly a hundred missiles, crates and crates of grenades of all varieties, and two .50 caliber heavy machine guns, one already attached to a vehicle and the other on a sturdy tripod so it could be quickly moved and mounted. There were also plenty of gas masks, hazmat suits, and riot gear and body armor.
Once he described the convoy’s equipment Gutierrez went on to cover their brutal history raiding through the winter, including all the towns and populated areas of the bigger cities they’d hit. He even offered to testify to the crimes he’d seen his fellow raiders commit, assuming they could be captured and a formal court convened.
The raider defector talked for a long time, almost a half hour, with no news of any activity from the convoy. Trev was just thinking they should probably send people back out to see what was going on when Gutierrez finally seemed to wind down.