Families First: A Post-Apocalyptic Next-World Series Volume 6 Battle Grounds by Lance Ewing (ereader for comics .txt) 📕

a country, and good or evil will prevail. Keep the trophies of battle and use them if you can. I will have your back. But understand, they will have Baker’s as well. There will be casualties on both sides, possibly catastrophic in numbers, but it’s your only chance to save the Valley, and it’s just the beginning for me, either way. We are tracking them, and based on their path and rate of travel today, you can expect them tomorrow, late afternoon. Good job on the river damming; it poses a problem for them on day one but gives you less time to prepare. And Sergio, I heard you successfully infiltrated Baker’s camp and have a brand to show for it. I’ll have more work for you soon. Until then, Ronna is still your contact.”

Sergio grinned, without a response, like a kid first picked in a scrimmage football game.

“Back to the water situation—they will need your lake now, and he is soon to know it,” the Colonel said. “Unless something changes, I would expect a full-on attack in two to four days. Be prepared, get your people who are not on the front line squared away, and fight like hell. Vlad, you have the paint we dropped, right? and we have a vodka on the other side of this. Bring Mike, Sergio and Lance, if you like, and we will look at the next phase of the campaign.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Vlad, “on both accounts...”

“He’s off,” said Steve, doing a hand-across-the-throat motion that most would deem universal for “it’s over” or “done.”

“What’s the next phase of the campaign?” asked Jake.

“It’s complicated and not at all set in stone,” said Sergio, as the most obvious one to field the question. “I only know a part of it, but I can tell you it has everything to do with what this country looks like in ten years, and all who call it home. The bottom line is we must prevail, no matter the cost.”

All headed off to bed for another restless night’s sleep. I told Joy it felt like the night before going in for major dental work, but times 100. Now it was every night, with the anticipation of war that was not just a possibility, or even probability, but an absolute certainty and in only a few days.

* * * *

At breakfast, a few of us guessed about Samuel’s conversation with the Colonel, as it would likely happen as soon as he found out what happened last night. By lunchtime, we heard nothing had changed, and Mac had the trucks all pulled up behind the Pavilion. The Shetland twins were made official and first tasked with replacing the wires Sergio, Mike and Hanson had pulled off all the machines last night. A lunchtime inquiry found four amongst the large group, in addition to Hanson, who had some flying ability with helicopters or small aircraft, with three volunteers among them.

Saddle Ranch had an old runway from way back in the 1940s running straight through two wheat fields, still relatively intact, and repaired periodically over the years, although it hadn’t been used in nearly 70. It would be checked closely this afternoon, as all machines on the trailers were fully fueled and the critical parts reassembled.

All in the Valley were anxious, with a few breaking down from the stress of it all. The young children, while sensing something was off, continued to play the day away but in a much more confined space over the past few days. Most of the teenagers knew the score and were encouraged to help out behind the front lines when it came time.

* * * * * * *

Chapter Eighteen

Baker’s Valley ~ Colorado

Baker got his first glimpse of the valley from the hill above, looking at the width and depth so closely he missed the obvious.

It was only seconds later when he called out to his men, “Where are my aircraft? Are we in the right valley?”

“Yes, sir, Colonel,” his number two guy called back. “This is indeed the right valley, but I’m not sure why your trucks haven’t made it here yet.”

“Give me a radio!” he spat. “Get them on the radio now!” he screamed.

His men scrambled to get the mechanics on the line but couldn’t reach anyone.

The men in the farmhouse, having slept off the hangovers and disposed of the evidence in the basement, had spent the morning deciding if they had done something good or bad last night. Adding they all couldn’t find their radios, the concern mounted. With two men missing and the four deceased found just this morning lying in the field, they started to look at both sides of the coin. All agreed they expected Sergio back as well. They did the best they could when their boss demanded an account of his inventory.

“Colonel,” one man spoke for the rest. “We followed the orders of one of the Inner Circle you sent to check on us. The Sergio fellow had us move all of the trucks late last night for safety reasons.”

Baker seethed internally and realized this was a defining moment in his leadership. Although he hadn’t led a group this size ever before, he remembered reading once that dissent of someone in a leadership role, no matter the rank, could be seen as weakness and something another may get away with as well. In the book, they went on to unravel, thread by thread, the leader’s authority, until one day he found himself on the outside, as the hunter became the hunted. He vowed silently to not lose control of the situation and the confidence of his men.

“Yes, of course,” he said. “Where was the final destination exactly?” he asked casually, as he could see the men before him relaxing just a bit.

“Just a couple of miles up the road,” said one—“right inside the roadblock.”

“Point,”