A minute later, Todd counted her in. Louis waved to the truckers and the line finally started moving.
“Free America! Free America! Free America! Thank David!” Darla spoke in monotone, as if it was a formal greeting, before continuing in a more casual voice. “Hello, this is Darla Kristoff for Legion News. I’m standing here at a shipping terminal in Fort Collins, Colorado, as we prepare to receive a delivery of an incredible number of robotic devices. As you can see, the convoy is massive, with hundreds of delivery trucks. I’m told this is among the top ten convoys in terms of size and tons delivered.”
In one practiced motion, Darla stepped outside the frame, though she continued speaking. “You can see they’re coming up the street six abreast. David has provided enough cranes to clear out many of them at the same time. He’s built huge receiving yards on each side of the street, where we’ll store it all.”
Darla went silent for a few moments as the rumble of truck engines filled the air. Giant tractor-trailers, once a symbol of American transportation and mobility, now served a new master. Ted’s gut hated what was being said, but he kept his silence to protect his identity.
The first truck arrived, and a crane was almost immediately swung over it.
“Zoom in on that,” Darla remarked in a friendly voice. “Let’s watch as the first heroic trucker delivers his cargo.”
Six rigs had moved side-by-side into line at the front of the loading zone, but there was only one truck with the crane already over it, so Ted had a pretty good idea where the camera guy was aiming. It happened to be exactly where Emily was standing at the edge of the parking lot. As more trucks approached, the lanes tightened up behind the leaders. He kept his eyes on his presidential girlfriend. Darla continued speaking, but he tuned her out. A much larger problem had developed.
Emily’s mask was down.
Capulin, NM
The town of Capulin was typical for the remote plains of West Texas and eastern New Mexico, except it sat below a thousand-foot triangular mountain with its top third cut off. Brent pointed to the landmark. “We’ll stop here. That extinct volcano is a tourist destination. They’ll have food and shelter we can use.”
Trish, his co-pilot, nodded in agreement. They hadn’t been on the road for more than a few hours, but it was late in the day, and they’d gotten almost no sleep the night before.
The place had a few streets, a scattering of beat-down single-wide trailers and not much else. Brent let his folks do a quick in-and-out to a tiny country store to grab food and drinks, but they were careful not to disturb any of the clothes left on the floor. He wanted to leave no trace they’d been there.
To further reduce their chances of being found, he drove a few miles outside the meager village, assuming the enemy would stay in town if they came by. He stopped at the visitors’ center for the volcano, which dominated the flat terrain to his right.
He got out, along with the rest of his people, and walked up to the front doors of the small National monument headquarters. It wasn’t too much bigger than one of those single-wides back at town. Once they’d gathered, he pointed to the nearby volcano. “If this was a military battle, we’d spend the night near the summit of that thing. It would give us a clear view of enemy troop movements for a hundred square miles.”
“Aren’t we at war?” Long asked.
They were most definitely in a war, but not in the traditional sense. It wasn’t Vietnam, which at least had rules of engagement. They weren’t a squad sent out by HQ with a specific mission, and against a known enemy. As he thought about it, it was likely the only time in his life he wished things were more like being in Vietnam. Upon reflection, he admitted even fifty years later, his time over there still dominated his thinking.
“Yes, but right now, we want to stay close to the roads. Flight is our best means of staying alive. If we camped up there, we might never escape if the enemy came at us from below.”
Long, the Asian man who was new to his crew, seemed satisfied with the answer.
“Come on,” Brent said. “Let’s get comfortable inside. I’m starving.” As an afterthought, he added, “Who wants first watch?”
They had a good view of the road up to the visitor center and there were a few other vehicles parked in the lot, so theirs didn’t seem out of place. If someone did show up, they’d have a lot of warning to prepare for their arrival.
Kevin, the lone black man on the team, raised his hand. “Let me eat my candy in peace and I’ll stay out here all night.” He held up the stuff he’d lifted from the country store. Brent was tempted to chastise the guy for not taking healthy food, but he wasn’t his dad.
“Deal. I’ll relieve you myself in a couple of hours. It’s going to be dark soon. We’ll run tighter shifts overnight.” The sun’s rays beamed bright against one side of the volcano rim, though the shadows were long everywhere else. The sun was at the edge of the horizon.
Everyone went inside, save for the new guy. He’d gone off to the side of the entryway, away from everyone else, and was looking down at his hands. Brent tried to snoop, but before he could get too close, Long saw him. “Hey, I was just checking the time on my phone. I knew it was late. I’d usually be eating right now.”
Brent laughed. They were all part of the prison system. They all ate at precisely the same time every day. After confirming it on
