War Girls (The Juniper Wars Book 5) by Aaron Ritchey (best short novels .TXT) 📕

my agony—enough for me to hug her long and say, “Yeah, Sharlotte, I have a plan. What do you know about President Jack’s visit?”

“Everything,” Sharlotte said. “We know everything about it.”

Best news I’d heard all day.

(iii)

Not sure where Wren went with Pilate and Baptista, but I stayed with Sharlotte.

I thought our troops would be bunkered down in the high school. Instead, Sharlotte led me into the basement to where two Juniper women stood armed with assault rifles. I recognized Sylvia Archuleta, one of Mama’s old friends. But she’d gone to run cattle with Howerter, however much of a betrayal that was.

Sylvia was in her mid-fifties. She nodded at me.

I nodded back. “Don’t tell me that Dob Howerter has joined us rebels.”

Sylvia laughed harshly. “That pendejo? Hardly, he’s fighting against us. Wants to be governor or some jackerdan in charge. Who cares? As for me, I changed sides. Once we get the U.S. and the ARK out of here, well, it’s going to be a power grab. And I aim to be in the middle of it for once.”

“You are in the middle now, all right,” Sharlotte said easily. She bumped fists with Sylvia. Then we walked into a tunnel chiseled through the cement of the high school foundation and into the hard clay behind. Wasn’t a short tunnel, but a long throat of darkness. Sharlotte lit a sapropel lantern.

“Had to use heaters to dig the tunnels,” Sharlotte said, “old kerosene ones that we converted to use sapropel. We’d thaw the dirt, dig for a bit, thaw it some more. Took a lot of us, but the Gammas are like moles. And you know Wren—she always loved a shovel.”

“About Wren.” My voice seemed muffled in the cold of the underground passageway. “She’s more mellow now, and less, well, less talkative and kind of more pleasant. What changed?” I felt myself awkwardly pause and my face grew hot. “I mean, well, of course she’s changed. She’s a Gamma now. But there’s still something different about her.”

“Antipsychotics.” Sharlotte seemed as awkward as me. “We had to dose her. She was bad, worse than the worst of the Gammas going coco. It’s what they call—”

It was hard to hear, and I had to cut her off. “I know. It’s like loco, but worse. I know.” I recalled the EMAT strip on her neck. That was her medication.

“Anyway, the antipsychotics really helped, and not just her, but others. The Gammas are dealing, but we’re running low on the medication.”

“Like Micaiah’s meds,” I said. “Remember? He had to split them with Rachel. It seems we should’ve started a pharmaceutical company instead of a ranch.”

Sharlotte laughed, and it wasn’t just a chuckle, it was a full-on belly laugh. She stopped and leaned against a wall, laughing. “Dang, but you aren’t wrong. Thank God, we found a doctor to help us. Wait until you meet Jan. She’s something.”

“How far do these tunnels go?” I asked.

“We have dozens. Most are trapped, like what the U.S. faced in Vietnam. Nichola Nichols is downright evil when it comes to traps.”

“She’s here?” My frigid heart warmed. “Really?”

Sharlotte nodded. “Come on. You’ll see her. You’ll see everyone. It’ll be like a homecoming dance.”

The main tunnel splintered off like a prairie dog warren, going every which way, and I shivered to think what kind of traps I might find if I got lost.

In Vietnam, the Vietnamese had trapped their tunnels with spikes, trip-wire grenades, and my personal favorite, wasp nests that would get rattled and swarm wasps down on you. Those tunnels were death traps, and it seemed we’d taken a page out of their book.

More guerilla warfare. When facing overwhelming odds, you used every trick.

I shivered to think of an Octo racing through the tunnels. Could their spider eyes see in the dark? If I could tweak DNA to create a killing machine, I’d make sure my inhuman soldiers had night-vision goggles for pupils.

The tunnels rose until we crept into a basement of the housing development to the north of the high school. More guards.

Sharlotte explained things as we crossed the basement, where hard-faced Juniper soldiers bedded down on sleeping mats and sleeping bags. “We’ve taken over the basement of all these houses. They’re our barracks. For the humans among us. And we don’t leave through the houses, only through the high school. So far, the ARK hasn’t found us.”

More rat’s nest tunnels twisting through and then we came to another basement. The carpet was gone. Guards sat on easy chairs or kitchen chairs or plain bar stools all on bare concrete.

“How many soldiers do we have?” I asked.

“About a thousand humans, about three hundred Gammas, and we have nearly thirty Stanleys, but we are having issues keeping them running and loaded with ammo.”

It certainly was an army, but would it be enough?

We maneuvered through more cold passageways until we passed through another concrete foundation. This place wasn’t a house—it had more of an industrial feel to it. We walked up a big cement staircase with metal guardrails. “Back in the day, this was the West Metro Fire Rescue Training Center and Station. We use their building for the Gammas. To the west, we have storage units for the Stanleys. Before the Yellowstone Knockout, those people had more stuff than they knew what to do with. Big houses and storage units? It was too much.”

“Ancient greed puts money in our pockets,” I said, quoting Mama.

Sharlotte smiled warmly at me. “Mama sure could turn a phrase.”

We topped the stairs and walked into the fire department’s central meeting hall. In a rush of happy faces, I was swept into hugs and kissed by most everyone I had ever known.

“Cavvy!” Dolly Day Cornpone screamed. She was so happy and stinky that I didn’t correct her. Our dogs, Bella, Jacob, and Edward danced happily around my feet, those good, good puppies.

Aunt Bea hugged me, part of her face bandaged, but not so much I didn’t see the twinkle in her eyes.

Nikki Breeze, standing closely with Kasey Romero,