Edge of Valor: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller(63)

The horror seeped in, deep in her bones. Despair was poisonous. She would not give in to it. She refused.

She would cling to hope with her dying breath.

Dave sighed, misery etched into his features. “We won’t know more until we can get out and assess the damage. But I’ve received a report that at least one strike hit Winter Haven’s solar substation. The most crucial hardened electronics were in that building.”

“What does that mean?” Annette asked.

“The substation connects the solar panels in the community. Without it, the solar panels won’t work. We may have lost Winter Haven.”

Annette blanched. “What are we going to do?”

“We don’t need Winter Haven,” Hannah said. “It was always the people that made Fall Creek something special. We have generators and can make our own biofuel. We can survive. We have each other.”

Annette took a shuddering breath. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Speaking of helping each other.” Hannah turned to Dave. “Can you get me Mick Sellers on the radio? And Flynn. I want to speak with them.”

“I’ll try, but with the repeater stations down, we’re struggling to get anyone far from town. They’re out of range.”

Annette grimaced. “We’re chasing our tails with the Alliance. I’m not sure anything will make a difference to them.”

“It has to,” Hannah said fiercely. “They’ve seen a glimpse of what Poe and the Syndicate can do. Now we’re facing a threat from our own military. If they can justify this, what else will they justify? I just pray the Community Alliance will finally see reason and join us. They need to know what happened here. If it can happen to us, it can happen to them.”

“Keep praying,” Dave said. “I fear that’s all we’ve got left.”





44





The General





Day One Hundred and Fourteen





“You’re fired!” Governor Duffield screamed into the sat phone.

With a wince, the General pulled his ear back. “I can explain—”

“I’ve received reports that you’re stuck outside some crappy town thirty miles from where you should be! Poe is amassing in South Bend. South Bend! A stone’s throw from Michigan, and what are you doing? Playing games with my men? Opening fire on American citizens? What the hell are you thinking!”

The General gritted his teeth. Someone in the ranks had snitched on him. The governor must have planted a sat phone or two amongst them to report on the General’s actions.

The man didn’t trust him as completely as the General had anticipated.

He hadn’t gotten to where he was by panicking prematurely. There was always another play. Check wasn’t the end of the game, only a minor setback.

Especially if you were willing to cheat.

With a calm he didn’t feel, he said, “I have evidence that they’re domestic terrorists plotting an anti-government agenda. They’ve already murdered a local politician—”

“I don’t care!” Governor Duffield said. “Those were not your orders! Do you hear me? You are disobeying direct commands!”

The General paced before the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. Lake Michigan glistened in the afternoon sunlight like a precious jewel. From here, he couldn’t see the tent-and-trash scattered beach or the huddled, dirty masses.

He caught a glimpse of movement in the reflection off the glass. He spun around, heartrate accelerating.

Baxter lurked in the doorway, head bobbing like a metronome, leatherbound notebook in hand. “Do you need me for this, sir?”

This was not a conversation he wished recorded for future generations to examine—not even a meticulously sanitized version.

The General raised his free hand and made a shooing motion.

Baxter slipped through the door. The General signaled to his bodyguards stationed around the suite. He didn’t want them present for this, either.

The men obeyed without a sound.

Seconds later, he had the room to himself.

Governor Duffield continued to scream insults and obscenities through the sat phone.

With growing impatience, the General spoke, modulating his voice so that he didn’t betray his inner fury. “Calm down, Henry.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! I was warned! I was warned and still, I trusted you. How could you do this to me?”

“You hired me to be your eyes and ears, and to act according in your interests and to your benefit. Which I am doing.”

“Did you not hear me? I said you’re fired! Relieved of your command. You’re lucky I’m not ordering a court-martial.”

“Henry—”

“Or maybe I should! A court-martial wouldn’t be the worst you deserve!” The governor sputtered, momentarily at a loss for words. “You—you fired upon American citizens! You ordered American soldiers to harm their own people. What the hell were you thinking?”

Instead of answering, the General said, “You should see Osborne. He’ll be in my office. Have a glass of cognac. It’ll do wonders for your mood.”

The General had left his personal assistant, Larry Osborne, in case such a situation arose. Several years ago, the General had pulled some strings to make a certain unsavory arrest disappear.