Dux Bellorum (Future History of America Book 3) (14 page)

He needed a way to stop Stapleton from reaching Philadelphia. The city was just coming back to life.
 
A delay there could save him.

Jones heard a shout outside his office and clamoring voices. He reached the point where he raised up from his desk to demand answers when the door to his office banged open. A young man wearing glasses burst into the room, breathless.

"Mr. President! The rebels have reached Philadelphia!"

Daniel smiled. "Well that's good news! They'll find safety and security there.
 
We can—"

"They're setting fire to the city! Everyone is panicking. We lost contact with the governor!"

Daniel stared at the map. Oh my God.
 
It's New York all over again.
 
No, no, no!
 
This isn't happening!

Chapter 15

The Road to Dunham

E
RIK
STARED
OUT
THE
M-ATV's tiny window and watched impassively as endless fields rolled by.
 
In front of them, a pickup truck bounced along the road, full of men.
 
Occasionally, one would turn and stared pointedly at the massive army vehicle.
 
Further up the road, the sheriff's cruiser led the way into Dunham.
 

Erik leaned around Ted at the wheel and peered out the small window on the driver's door.
 
Another pickup truck cruised next to them.
 
He knew that there were two more trucks behind them.
 
They were effectively blocked in.

"I don't like this," Brin said quietly.
 
She leaned over the pile of gear on the floor between Erik and Ted and stared out the windshield.

Erik risked a quick glance at his wife.
 
"I don't like it either," he whispered.
 
It was the first words he'd spoken directly to her since they left the dealership.

Without turning, she hissed through clenched teeth, "Then why did you agree to this?"

Ted didn't seem to hear the conversation, let alone have any inclination of jumping in.
 
Erik sighed.
 
He stared back out the window.
 
"We didn't have much of a choice," he muttered.

"You didn't even
ask
me," she said.

And that's the real problem,
Erik thought.
 
You’re not upset that we're surrounded by bunch of rednecks, driving toward a town we know nothing about, heading into battle.
 
You're upset that we didn't stop to take time to ask your opinion.

"I mean," she continued in a quiet tone, "it's not like I saved your life or anything."

Guilt flooded Erik's chest.
 
She had a point.
 
The big .50-caliber machine gun in the M-ATV's turret had pretty well ended the standoff and kept him from being shot.
 
He opened his mouth to say so when she spoke again.

"I'm surprised at you, Ted," she said, rounding on the driver. "We're putting your kids' lives at risk here!"

Ted turned his eyes from the road and stared at her for a moment as the big vehicle rumbled over cracked blacktop.
 
"You honestly think I want to take my kids into some battle?
 
This thing we're driving is as good as a tank against anything the bad guys around here have.
 
I've been thinking this over," Ted said, turning his attention back to the road, "and they way I see it, when we show up with this matvee, it'll end the whole situation once and for all."

Brin shook her head.
 
"Do we even have a plan to go along with this genius idea, or are we just going to roll into town like John Wayne?"

"That's not fair," Erik said quietly.

"I tell you what's not
fair
," Brin said, the venom in her voice surprising everyone.
 
"What's not
fair
is getting dragged into some sort of battle.
 
After what we just escaped, after everything we've seen on the road north, you guys jump at the first chance to drive straight into a firefight."
 
She slapped the back of both front seats in frustration.
 
"We've survived so
much
, why are you guys trying to get us all killed?"

"Honey—"

Brin flashed him a ‘don’t-honey-me’ look and retreated back to the children at the rear of the massive vehicle without a word.

Erik half-turned in his seat.
 
“Brin—”

"Just let her go, dude," muttered Ted.
 
"Let her go."

Erik slammed his head against the seat back.
 
He clenched his teeth in frustration gripped his rifle barrel.
 
Why can't you see everything I'm doing, every single thing I've done is been to get you to safety?
 
What the hell happened back at that prison camp that makes you think I'm the bad guy?
 
He stared out the window as the pastures ended and they entered a small pine forest.
 
What did they do to you?

"Whatever you're thinking about saying, don't.
 
It'll only make things worse."
 

Erik turned to look at Ted.
 
The marine grimaced.
 
"I know from personal experience, brother."

"Are we doing the right thing?" Erik asked quietly.

Ted looked at his driver window at the truck riding six feet below them.
 
"I've been asking myself that same question ever since…Susan…"

Erik sighed and watched the trucks in front of them continue down the lonely road toward Dunham.
 
The sun had crested the pine trees in the east and flooded the farmland with vivid colors.
 
The bright blue sky, the brilliant white of the clouds above, the verdant green of the surrounding crops.
 
They all lent a sense of hope to Erik.
 

"You honestly think we can get out of this without anyone getting hurt?"

It was Ted's turn to sigh.
 
"I wouldn't have agreed to bring my children with me if I didn't think so."
 
He turned and held Erik's gaze.
 
"You've been out on ops with me for a few months—you know what it feels like to roll into a place with the high ground.
 
These locals, man they got a whole other world of surprise coming to them.
 
I'm telling you, most civilians will probably think twice about fighting the sheriff.
 
When they see all these trucks and guys get out with rifles and then we roll up in
this
big sonofabitch, the floor's gonna drop out of their execution plans."

Erik shook his head.
 
"How the hell do you know that?"

Because I have seen some hardened badasses in Afghanistan who would shoot you between the eyes for looking at them sideways wet their pants when one of these big rigs pulled up in front of their little terrorist training camps."
 
He patted the roof of the M-ATV affectionately.
 
"That big M240 up top will go a long way to solving the sheriff's problems.
 
I guaran-damn-tee-it."

Erik looked again at the truck in front of them.
 
From his vantage point riding shotgun in the massive battle wagon, the truck looked like a toy.
 
He thought back to how the M-ATV had dwarfed the sheriff's cruiser back at the dealership.
 

Maybe we do have a chance.

Erik turned to look back out the window. "Either way, I just want this over with.
 
I need to be able to move without tripping over everybody."

"Yeah, you need a shower, too," muttered Ted.

"That too," laughed Erik.
 
He grew serious immediately.
 
"And time to talk to Brin.
 
No offense, but I can't get that while we're all packed in here like sardines."

"You think I want to be cooped up in here with your farts?" asked Ted.
 
"Only thing I'm focused on is getting through this little deal of ours alive so we can get a couple cars and get the hell out of here."

"Sure would be nice to be able to stretch out in the back of a minivan…"

"We'd get better gas mileage too," Ted observed.

The entire vehicle shook with the bone rattling vibration as one of the giant wheels traversed a particularly large pothole.
 
Ted winced as he struggled to maintain control of the steering wheel.
 
"Of course, I sure will miss the run-flats we got on this thing."

"I sure won't miss these little windows," Erik said, tapping his knuckle against the little triangular ballistics-hardened window in his door.

Ted grunted.
 
"Somebody takes a shot at you with a .308, you'll be missing it."

Brin reappeared between the front seats.
 
"Did we just run over something?"

"Yeah," said Erik.
 
"A crater."

Brin turned to face Ted.
 
"Try to take it easy up here, okay?
 
We need to keep the kids calm as long as possible."

"Brin," Erik said quietly, unable to resist the opportunity to try to make peace.

She turned to him and her face lost all the hardness of the previous few weeks.
 
It was like staring at the face of his wife back in Sarasota again.
 
A slight smile played out on her lips.
 
She looked down and put a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing.
 
"About earlier, I…"

"No," said Erik, overjoyed at the touch of her hand on his shoulder.
 
He reached up and put his hand on top of hers. "It's my fault—I—"

Without warning she ripped his hand away from his.
 
"It's not
always
your fault!" she hissed.
 
"Can't you even let me—"

The M-ATV swerved suddenly and Brin was thrown off balance.
 
She fell unceremoniously into Erik's arms.
 
For a moment the two of them stared at each other, their lips only an inch away from each other.

"Oops," said Ted.

Before Erik could relish the feeling of his wife in his arms again for the first time in weeks, she pushed angrily away.
 
"Don't you two take
anything
seriously?
 
Our lives are at stake here and you're screwing around—"

"Come on guys, don't argue…please?" a small voice said from the dark interior of the vehicle.

Brin looked down and clenched her fists.
 
Erik and Ted looked at each other.
 
Ted cleared his throat.
 

"It's okay Lindsay, baby.
 
Erik and Brin were just discussing—"

"No, I'm done talking."
 
Brin turned away from Erik.
 
"Unlike you," she said softly, "I don't know if I'm willing to risk everything to get to your parents cabin anymore."
 
Without another word, she moved to the rear of the truck, mumbling to Lindsay.

Erik sighed and closed his eyes.
 
So close.
 
We were so close.
 
I had her in my arms…

"Well, don't say I didn't try."

Erik opened his eyes and stared at Ted.
 
"Excuse me?"

"Hey," Ted muttered, shrugging, "I got her in your arms.
 
That's more than you've been able to do lately—"

"Shut the fuck up," muttered Erik.
 
He ignored Ted's chuckle.
 
I'm losing my wife.
 
If we don't get out of this damn thing and get a chance to be alone for a few hours, surviving this trip won't even be worth it.
 
If I can't have her the way she was before the whole world went to hell, then I don't want anything.

"Brake lights," Ted said, his voice shifting from joking friend to
marine
in an instant.

Erik looked out the windshield.
 
In the distance, the road bisected a tree line.
 
He saw the white painted steeple of a church rise above the pines.
 
Up ahead, near the first truck in the convoy, a simple sign welcomed visitors to the town of Dunham, population 2,783.

The two men watched as the convoy came to a halt.
 
Sheriff Jonston exited his vehicle and jogged back to the M-ATV.
 
Ted opened the driver's door.
 
"What's the plan?"

"I'll take half the boys straight into town and come around behind the jail.
 
You and the rest pull up to the front door and we'll box 'em in.
 
I want them to see you come up nice and slow so they get an idea what they're up against."

Ted nodded.
 
"Sounds good.
 
When we pull up front, one of us will get up in the turret."

"That's a good start, but I'm gonna need some help on the ground."

"Pardon?" asked Ted.
 
"Sheriff, we agreed to bring our vehicle, we never said we'd fight—"

"You better just hope that stunt you pulled back at the dealership don't cost anyone their lives," Sheriff Jonston hissed.
 
"Me and the boys had this all planned out to strike at dawn.
 
We had the element of surprise with us—now that's all blown to hell because of you.
 
I'm gonna need you two on the ground with me.
 
Nobody else in this town—not even the Dillard boys—have full-auto rifles."

"Sheriff," began Erik.

"You make sure you get your asses on the ground with me, or I'll make sure to come after you when all this is over.
 
I'm beginning to think you boys are deserters."