The one called Flynn towered over the other two. A redheaded guy sporting a bushy beard that reached his chest, he looked like a Hell’s Angels biker.
The woman, Dallas Chapman, stood on Mick’s opposite side. She wore hunting camo, her skin a rich brown, her black coils springing from beneath her MSU Spartans winter hat.
Mick Sellers wore a hunter-green parka, jeans, and scuffed work boots. In his mid-seventies, he was still straight-backed, with short silver hair.
Hannah and Dave stepped forward to meet them. Tension crackled in the air. Everyone edgy and itching to get to their duty stations and prepare for the impending attack.
Hannah didn’t waste time on pleasantries or preamble. “It’s after one a.m. What is it?”
“The radios aren’t working,” Flynn said in an accusatory voice, like it was their fault. “We’ve been trying to contact you.”
“Some of the repeater stations are down,” Hannah said. “The General’s soldiers sabotaged them.”
Perez crossed her arms over her chest. “What the hell do you want? Spit it out and leave. We’re a little busy.”
Flynn shifted from foot to foot. He looked shaken. His flustered gaze darted from Perez to Hannah. “That’s what we came to talk to you about.”
“We have news,” Mick said in a strangled voice. Even in the dim light, his face was ashen, his eyes wide and bloodshot. He looked as if someone had walked over his grave. “In the last hour, we’ve received multiple reports that hundreds of armed men have spilled across the border north of South Bend and are heading inland. They’ve got vehicles, some armored, and plenty of guns. They’re shooting anyone they see.”
Everyone stared at him in shocked silence.
Dallas said, “Poe has just invaded Michigan.”
56
Hannah
Day One Hundred and Fifteen
“Poe’s headed straight for us,” Mick said.
“We can’t defend ourselves from two opposing forces,” Annette said in a stricken voice. “God help us.”
The townspeople exchanged appalled glances.
Hannah felt it, a low thrumming terror like a scream locked inside, fighting to get out.
Her heart plummeted. Sour-sick acid churned in her belly. The certainty of death bore down on them like a hurtling train.
Whatever their preparations, whatever they’d attempted to avoid this fate—how could it be enough? Would her children die today? Scared, calling for their mothers?
Was Liam already dead? Was that her destiny, too?
Things looked bleak. More like impossible.
“How many?” Reynoso asked.
“Don’t know,” Mick said. “Hard to tell from the reports. Two thousand? Maybe more. They’re coming up on Highway 31. Looks like they’ll hit your blockade south of the bridge then run through Fall Creek before spreading to the northeast and west.”
“Never thought we’d see this in America.” Dallas’s eyes gleamed in the flickering candlelight. “The things he’s doing to women and children. Selling human beings out in the open like that. I don’t know what chance we have against that kind of army. Not much of one, I suspect. But you defeated the militia. You’ve held your own this far.”
“We need your help,” Mick said.
Perez flung up her hands. “Oh, now you want—”
“Samantha.” Bishop’s strident voice cut through her words like a knife through butter. He shot her a stern look. “This is not the time!”
Startled, Perez clamped her mouth shut.
Flynn looked shaken. Something changed in his expression—a glimpse of vulnerability, a break in the hardness. A flicker of shame, maybe even remorse. “You’ve been right all along. Ain’t none of us will be spared from this, even if you’re the town they hit first. We’ve seen firsthand what Poe does. It’s evil…he’s evil.”
Perez stared at him in shock.
Hannah wasn’t surprised. She’d never wavered in the belief that they could unite for a common cause. She’d kept the lines of communication open, and she’d had faith that returning the militia’s stolen supplies was necessary, not only because it was the right thing to do, but for this moment.
Flynn grunted. “What we’re saying is, we want to join forces, if you’ll have us.”
“We will,” Hannah said. “We stand together.”
Mick gave a grim nod. “The Community Alliance has three hundred fighting men and women who’ve volunteered. We’re low on ammo, but we’ve got some. A couple of reloaders have helped. Some are police officers, security, firefighters, former military. Others are hunters and recreational shooters. A few just picked up a gun for the first time, but they’re willing to fight to defend their home.”