Edge of Valor: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller(17)

Besides the radios, the scouts had flares for a secondary method of communication. Satellite phones were still in existence, but Fall Creek had no such access.

He missed instant communication. Cell phones. GPS. The internet. Decent comms.

Unease slithered beneath his skin, his chest tight. “Echo Two, come in!”

“…Two vehicles,” Echo Two panted through thick static. She sounded like she’d been running hard. Her name was Mara Wright, a woman in her thirties, her blonde hair in a perpetual ponytail, cherub-faced but determined—one of Samantha Perez’s recruits. “Both military Humvees…One outfitted with an M2 Browning .50 cal.”

His stomach plummeted. “Two vehicles?”

“Confirmed.”

“Could be scouts,” Bishop said.

Liam nodded. The General would keep his main force back while he sent forward observers to scout ahead.

At least it meant they didn’t have drones. If they did, the drones would conduct the reconnaissance.

“This is Echo Two. I saw one soldier up close with my binoculars. They’re National Guard.”

“You’re sure?” Liam asked.

“Yes, sir. I served six years with the 1-125th Infantry Battalion Company B in Saginaw. I’m sure.”

Liam swore. He’d still hoped they were the fake soldier variety, like the Syndicate hooligans he’d faced when freeing the Brooks from the FEMA shelter.

No such luck.

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” Bishop glanced at Liam. “What do you want to do?”

“We can’t let them roll in here. On the other hand, they’re American soldiers operating on orders from their superiors. I have zero desire to cause harm, let alone open fire.”

Bishop ran his free hand through his afro, his expression laced with apprehension. “How do you fight enemies you don’t want to kill?”

“Sounds like a bad joke,” Quinn muttered.

Liam keyed the mic. “Where are they now?”

“I-94 at—” The scout’s voice broke off, the radio full of static.

If the General was coming from Lansing, he could have headed north to avoid the mid-sized cities of Battle Creek and Kalamazoo and then moved southwest, hugging Lake Michigan and coming down through Saugatuck and South Haven.

If they remained on I-94, they’d pass through Benton Harbor and St. Joe before taking exit 15 onto M-139, aka Old 31, which would lead them straight through the center of town from the north.

But if the General’s men took exit 41 to M-140 South, they’d follow it southwest and hit Dean’s Hill Road, entering Fall Creek from the bridge at the south end.

Either path took about the same time.

Urgency crackled through him. He needed to know which direction. And he needed to know twenty minutes ago.

“Which way?” he hollered at the radio.

Static hissed back at him.

He nearly hurled the useless thing at the closest tree. “Damn it! Which way?”

“We can’t cover both,” Bishop said. “We don’t have the manpower.”

Bishop was right. He didn’t have the soldiers or comms or a quick reaction force, the area he needed to defend far too spread out. He wished he could set up a perimeter defense covering 360-degrees like the FOBs—Forward Operating Bases—in Afghanistan.

The radio belched.

Liam shoved it against his ear. “Echo Two, come in! Where the hell are they?”

“…Old 31…just past…Trailer World…”

North. They were headed toward the north blockade.

Liam sprinted toward the four-wheeler, Bishop right behind him, barking orders into his radio. Adrenaline surged through him, icing his veins.

The Humvees were twelve minutes from the north blockade. If they took the ATV full throttle, Liam and Bishop were eight minutes away.

“I want to come!” Quinn shouted after them.

“Start the alarm tree!” Bishop said. “Alert Reynoso.”

There wasn’t room on the two-seater ATV, and she couldn’t bike as fast as they could drive. Disappointment crossed her face, but she lifted her chin and gave a resolute nod.

She’d learned her lesson: follow orders, be part of the team, keep everyone alive. She turned toward her bike, pulling a radio from her pocket with her bandaged hand.

“Done!”

“Find Hannah!” Liam called after her.

He wanted them together. Quinn and Hannah made a formidable force.

Fear pushed his heart into his throat. Fear for Hannah and the children. His worry for Hannah was constant. It had nothing to do with her capabilities. It was innate, a part of him. He thought of her with every breath he took.

With every fiber of his being, he longed to run toward her. To protect her with his life. Instead, he headed in the opposite direction.

Defending the town should safeguard Hannah, too.

He prayed it would be true.

The ATV’s engine growled to life. They shoved on their helmets. As usual, Bishop drove and Liam took the rear, M4 in hand, ready to fire.

The ATV jolted across uneven ground, vibrating Liam’s teeth. Pain shot through his ribs and spine like electric shocks.

The ice-damaged roads were pitted and crumbling. With no workers or equipment to patch the asphalt, they would soon become undrivable.