last days of the California War.
The sounds of celebration found their way to Benny’s ears. He looked around the general and shot a nasty look in that direction.
“A party?”
Jon distracted Benny with a question. “First Mech back in the line?”
“Not all the way yet. 4 ^ th Brigade is unloading right now. 5 ^ th brigade is, well, not much of a brigade anymore even with the new recruits. Captain Bass’ mobile artillery is trucking in and should be here in a couple of days.”
The unmistakable sound of a champagne cork carried across the open space between the bridge and the riverboat. Even the soldiers working on the span gave the group a quick glance before carrying on.
“What the hell-” Benny led but Jon kept him focused: “Captain, do you understand your orders?”
“I think so.”
“We’re taking down most of the bridges on the Mississippi, but leaving the ones here in St. Louis intact. Our little way of taking some initiative away from the enemy; make this place look like the easiest way to get across. When Shep and the rest of 1 ^ st Corps gets out here we’ll be able to better position your boys, but for now you need to dig into the city. We’ve spent the last month building up some set positions, artillery emplacements and clearing kill zones to the north and south, but St. Louis here is one big trap for Voggoth.”
Duda asked, “A ghost town, right?”
Jon knew what Duda meant. Unlike many of the eastern and southern cities leveled by organized armies during the invasion, St. Louis had suffered through predators and strange monsters. Or, rather, alien animals. Most of the people had been chased away or killed during the first year of attack leaving.
Of course there was another type of ghost city, too. Places like Oklahoma City, Cincinnati, and Seattle. Places overrun by Voggoth’s legions and the entire population killed in grisly fashion but, when The Empire had come calling, those monsters had disappeared in the same manner in which many thousands of people vanished during the initial weeks of the invasion some eleven years prior.
Jon answered Benny, “Pretty much, yeah.”
“Then it should be easy to dig in. But sir, a Leviathan can level a city like this in five minutes.”
Jon pointed out, “The Nazis leveled Stalingrad with Stukas before they moved in. Soldier, bombed-out buildings make great foxholes. Now look, I’ve got to head to the estate for a big meeting. General Fink is organizing the withdrawal to these lines. His HQ is at McConnell Air Force base in Wichita but he’ll be pulling back before the end of the week.”
“How long ‘til we get hit here?”
A distant sound of glass breaking-just a soft tink — floated through the air from the riverboat. The music still played a soft rock song from the 70s. Sad Eyes or something like that.
Benny tried glancing over Jon’s shoulder but Brewer kept the younger man focused on the conversation. “Am I some kind of fortune teller? Why don’t you go ask Voggoth when he plans to knock on our door?”
“Of course, sir. I mean, um, of course not. I mean, you’re not a fortune teller. Sorry.”
Jon softened. He had not meant to be so hard but he did not want Benny worrying about the morbid party on that riverboat.
He remembered playing touch football with Benny back in Pennsylvania during that first post-Armageddon Thanksgiving. Of the group that played that day, Tolbert had died during the Battle of Five Armies less than a year later, Dustin McBride had disappeared-presumed dead-while leading his cavalry unit in pursuit of errant Red Hands, Dante Jones had killed himself in the face of Trevor’s return last summer, and now it appeared Anita Nehru had gone insane.
Benny, for his part, scored the winning touchdown that Thanksgiving by faking out Ross, a former NFL linebacker.
Just a kid.
“Sir?”
“Huh? Oh. It seems they’ve slowed down. They could probably get here in two weeks or so if they wanted, but it seems as if they might just take a little longer.”
Duda asked the question on many of the top brass’ minds, “Why would they slow down? We’re kind of in a bad spot.”
Jon ignored the question. “While I’m back in Pennsylvania you’ve got to oversee the set up here. Dig in, watch the skies, and get ready for what’s to come. I’m guessing that Shep will get back here first and take over operational command of this sector through First Corp.”
“Okay,” but Benny’s attention slipped again over Jon’s shoulder, toward the old style riverboat at rest in port. “Um-sir?”
Benny moved around Jon with his eyes focused on the riverboat. No more voices or laughter, just recorded music.
Jon closed his eyes and remembered a sign he had read on a front porch in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania long ago:
“Here hangs the South Side Suicide Club,
We couldn’t take it no more.
So we dressed in our best, stood straight and abreast,
And kicked away stools numberin’ four.”
“Sir, I think they’re all-they’re all…”
Jon turned around and shared the view with Benny Duda.
The party goers lay strewn along the decks of the riverboat, dressed in their best with a few still holding the spiked champagne glasses that had served as the final act of the celebration. A large banner strung across the bow said to the world, “Goodbye!” with a yellow smiley face punctuating the message.
Lori Brewer held her nine-year-old daughter’s hand as the pair left the cafeteria in the church basement and walked the perimeter road toward the estate. A few scattered gray clouds moved overhead threatening to sprinkle but nothing yet materialized.
As she neared the main gate she saw several usual sights: K9s walking the grounds, heavily armed human sentries, and support personnel in uniforms ranging from suits to tactical BDUs walking to and fro.
She saw something very unusual, too.
Just north of the main entrance to the estate ran a driveway that traveled a short distance to both the A- frame house where the Nehrus lived and the garage on their property which included an apartment overhead.
At the end of that driveway stood a blonde woman sporting a ponytail drooping to her shoulder blades and wearing a black beret over a green BDU/black tank top ensemble, not to mention a sword strapped to her leg.
Nina Forest? Here?
Lori bypassed the estate.
“Mom? Where we going?”
Lori ignored her daughter’s protest and approached the visitor from behind.
“Nin-I mean, Captain Forest?”
Nina turned around and a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, taking Lori by surprise.
“Mrs. Brewer? Hey, hello.”
The events of the previous summer had drawn the two together for a brief time as Lori’s husband, Jon, came to Nina’s rescue. Yet it was the events of a decade ago that Lori missed most of all. She and Nina were friends in the early days. Then The Order’s implant stole those memories away.
“I was hoping I’d run into you.”
“You were?”
“Yes.” Nina gave her attention to the dark haired nine year old for a moment. “Hello, there, how old are you?”
“I’m nine years old!”
Lori remembered her manners and made introductions.
“This is my daughter Catherine. Cathy, this is Captain Forest.”
The captain bent over and told the girl, “Nina.”
“Nina?” Lori’s daughter jumped. “Hey! I’m Nina, too”
