For the last two days, they’d been digging holes. Each foxhole was armpit-deep and wide enough for a two-man fighting team. The dug-in fighting positions provided concealment from enemy scouts or drones and protection from enemy fire.
For overhead cover, they’d chopped tree limbs and larger logs, stacked them across the opening like a roof, then shoveled dirt on top and covered it with shrubbery, leaves, and chunks of grassy turf.
“Everyone has blisters, even with gloves, but it’s almost done. The gun ports are pretty cool.”
Yesterday, Liam had the teenagers hammer nails into long two-by-fours, placing the tire-puncturing strips across the road in strategic spots. In addition to filling sandbags, they scavenged for barbed wire and concrete barriers.
On top of that, she’d done her chores for Gran and helped Jamal and Tina install a windmill to the Sanderson’s well. They’d delivered a big diesel generator to the McPherson family on Pine Lane, who had four kids and had taken in three more orphans.
“Keep it up,” Liam said. “Report to Reynoso when you’re finished. When you feel up to it, he’ll put you into watch rotation.”
She could have two broken legs and she still wouldn’t say no. “Oh, I’m up to it!”
“I need to check the status of—”
Static spit from the radio at Liam’s belt. “This is Echo Two for Alpha One!” a frantic voice cried. “We’ve got company!”
10
Liam
Day One Hundred and Four
“SITREP!” Liam barked into the radio, asking for a situational report.
Alarmed, Quinn stilled.
Bishop sprinted toward them, weapon in hand.
Static filled the radio. Frustrated, Liam shook it. As if that would help. “Echo Two, do you read me? Come in!”
Jamal had helped them set up repeaters to extend their range. An engineering major, he was a genius with electronics. He and his friend Tina Gundy had a magical touch with anything mechanical.
Together, their tinkering had brought dozens of radios and generators back online. But even with the repeaters, the forward observers were out of range.
Liam had sent out twelve forward observers to cover the major roads within thirty miles north, northwest, and northeast of Fall Creek, with extra attention on the most likely avenue of approach via I-69 South and I-94 West.
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.