Apache Dawn - - (classic fiction .TXT) 📗

class="subsq">Denny took another sip from his drink. He savored the hearty smells from the cooking chili. “Have you seen the Townsend boy again?”

“No,” said John with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s the war I called you over to talk about.”

“What war?”

“The North Koreans have invaded California, Denny!”

“But, the news said—”

“I’m not talking about the bullcrap you see on TV. I’m talking about what I’m hearing with my HAM gear from people on the West Coast who are there; right there in middle of this mess! The stuff they’re telling me is scary, Denny, very scary. A few bodies on the ground in Chicago is nothing compared to foreign jets and tanks blowing up buildings and killing people left and right in Los Angeles. They’re pushing inland, Denny. Taking land!”

“I don’t understand,” Denny said, shaking his head slightly.

“The North Koreans started a war in the middle of this flu outbreak. You think that the television signals are screwed up for no reason at all? Think about it, Denny—these guys I’m friends with, a lot of them were in the military back in the day. They know what they’re talking about when they say a tank rolled down their street with twenty guys carrying rifles following it and ransacking houses. And that’s just the West Coast.”

“What do you mean?”

“Out east, they’re being real sneaky.”

Denny swallowed. “The U.N.?”

“Yes,” said John sadly. “All the reports we hear about how these doctors from Europe are bringing medicine and food and generators to restore power. They should! How many times have we spent American blood and treasure on Europe?”

Denny nodded. “World War I, World War II, the Cold War…”

John pointed at Denny and nodded. “That’s right! Time and time again, we go to help them. And now it’s their turn. Well, they’re helping, but they’re helping themselves.”

“Pardon?”

“Did you hear the reports about the Russians in South Carolina? Basically took over that town? The doctors brought along ‘security forces’ as well.”

“Yes, but the Secretary of State—”

John hissed, “She’s a liar. Always has been. A hack for the new president. I’ve been in contact with a HAM I know who lives near that town. He saw the transport planes; he saw the parachutes. Then he saw the smoke and took in some of the people that fled. The Russians didn’t bring food and medicine; they brought guns and death. They took that town. Now it’s cordoned off and under a military blockade. Our own people tricked into letting the Russians take over—I bet you we’ll hear it’s ‘under quarantine’ next.”

“John…” said Denny, still not sure.

“From what I hear, the Germans are doing the same thing Boston—but the people are fighting back. Civil disobedience, riots, that sort of thing.” John shrugged. “They’re doing what they can, I guess—they had all their guns taken away years ago.”

“Wait—South Carolina never jumped on the gun control bandwagon—”

John sighed. “The HAMs I know said the Russians hit like a tornado in the middle of the night. No warning—no one had a chance. Lots of shooting and shouting and next thing you know, the town’s under their control. Then they started rounding up people they didn’t like—the ones with guns, the outspoken ones, the young men, that sort of thing.”

“Then what?”

John shrugged. “I don’t know. No one does. Shoot, even some of the HAMs were rounded up—big antennas sticking up in your yard are kind of a giveaway. That’s why mine are hidden in the trees,” John said with a wink. He sighed again. “Anyway, everything I’ve heard suggests those people were marched off in the night and just…vanished. I’m assuming they're just being held at the local school or something…”

“So where’s the Army? The Marines? The Air Force? Why aren’t we fighting back? I cannot believe Washington would sit back and let all this happen.”

John stared at his glass of water. “Believe it, Denny. I think they’re in on it. Okay, so maybe most of our military is spread around the world and has been since…well, really since 9/11, but definitely since The Pandemic and the war with Iran. I get that.”

“Yes, but surely not all—”

“Oh no, not all of it. We’ve got Reserves and the National Guard…but we’ve had a string of presidents now that have kept cutting the military and Denton has been one of the worst of ‘em since Clinton. There’s no need for such a big military machine, right? Isn’t that what they’re always telling us? H5N1 reduced the world’s population and made a lot of threats just disappear.” John shook his head. “Now look where their bleeding-heart policies have left us. Protecting the whole world, and almost defenseless at home. It’s scary, Denny. Real scary.”

“John Anderton, you stop getting so worked up over this,” ordered Ruth from the stove. She had both hands on her matronly hips. “You remember what the doctor said. You need to keep your blood pressure down. Besides,” she said, smoothing out her apron, “Heavenly Father will provide. He always has, and always will.”

Denny took a long, slow drink, letting the cold water soothe his emotions. He put the glass on the table carefully, to conceal his unsteady hands. “John, do you think they’ll come here? I mean, there’s nothing of value here…no military base, no large population center…we’re halfway up the mountains.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that Creekwater, South Carolina would’ve been all that important to the Russians either, but…” John spread his hands in a gesture of uncertainty. “Nobody knows why they went there. I just wanted you to know the truth before you headed for the hills, Denny.” He looked over his shoulder. “Ruth and I spend every night in the bunker now and only come up in the mornings.”

“Rightly so,” said Ruth, her back to the men. “If nothing else, we may as well get our money’s worth out of it.”

“Well, if what you say is true, then I think I may want to head up Old Leesburg Road a bit at first light.”

“Where will you go? You just can’t go sit in the woods all day.”

Denny thought for a moment. “Well,” he said with a sigh, “I normally camp up on Morning Glory Peak ‘cause it’s so close to my house. But, there’s that old ranger station up by U.P. Lake. I think there’s a helicopter pad or something up there, too. At any rate, there’s a fire observation tower—you know the one I’m talking about? Off Ridge Road?”

“Sure, sure. I used to hike up along the ridge with my son before we moved to town.”

“I’ll have a pretty good view of the town from there. It’s good hunting ground, fresh water from the lake, and fishing, too. If something does happen, I’ll be able to warn you.”

“That radio I gave you will have plenty of range for that. The lake is only about two miles from town—granted, it’s almost straight up the ridge. We’ll hear you loud and clear.”

The lights in the kitchen flickered and went out, plunging the room into twilight darkness. Ruth gasped and slammed the lid on her chili.

“It’s all right, just another power out—”

“John, look!” Ruth said, hands to her mouth, looking out the kitchen window toward Denny’s house.

Denny jumped up and in two strides was next to Ruth. He saw the front half of his house in flames. The light cast terrifying shadows that danced across the yard and into the kitchen. He saw a figure dressed in black race away from the front of the house down the driveway. Two more appeared on the other side of his house and joined the first.

Without a word, he turned and raced out the backdoor, pausing only to check around the corner of the Andertons’ house and make sure there was no one waiting there for him.

“Denny—” John said from the open door.

There was a crash from inside the Andertons’ house and Ruth shrieked. “Get in the basement! Go!” Denny waved him back.

He sprinted across his backyard and made it to his truck unseen. The roar of the fire was increasing now at a mind-numbing volume. He could hear a car horn honking faintly in the distance and what sounded like hoots and laughter. He ducked quickly into his backdoor and started grabbing the gear he'd accumulated there in the living room. Without thinking, he tossed them into the back of the waiting truck and went for more.

Satisfied he had his critical gear, he raced into the kitchen and grabbed his unfinished arrow shafts along with his hunting bow and arrows. The living room was a wall of angry fire. The heat was incredible. Tendrils of flame licked the ceiling and snaked down the hallway toward him. He was running out of time.

Through a gap in the flames, he could see the pictures of his wife and grandfather on the mantel, the frames melting and burning in the searing intensity of the fire. His heart ached, seeing the images of his loved ones being consumed by the fire. If only he'd acted sooner…

Part of the ceiling collapsed by the front door in a roar of fire and sparks. The abrupt and surprisingly intense wave of heat and smoke drove him stumbling backwards into the kitchen. He fell on his ass, got to his knees while coughing, and tried to clear the smoke from his eyes. He crawled on hands and knees as he struggled to drag his bow and arrows out of the kitchen and onto the back porch.

He lay there for a moment, gasping the clean sweet air and watching the acrid smoke boil out of the porch door over his head. He could hear his grandfather