Genesis (The Exodus Trilogy) (6 page)

george Havelar

The line of refugees stretched all the way back to the crossing, where the final stragglers were being helped ashore. A pregnant woman lost her balance and almost fell, but one of the soldiers caught her before she plunged into the ice-cold water. Havelar stood looking out at the ruins of Port Hammer, waiting for the latest word from the forward scouts. There was a cold drizzle, and he heard the babbling of a small brook nearby. Other than that, there was only silence. No one said anything as they waited for the scout. The silence was eerie, and Havelar realized he was holding his breath. He exhaled slowly, trying to relax. He couldn’t though; the burden of leadership weighed more heavily on his shoulders now than it ever had. This was his responsibility.

A soldier—a woman he thought he’d seen before, back in the early days—waved for them to continue. The ruins were safe, which meant they would have a place to sleep tonight. He waited for a moment, while others walked toward the former ship-building camp turned rebel base. His troops had torched this place after beating Admiral Hamilton’s rebels on the north bank of the Trickler. He tried not to think of what had happened back there. One way or another, it had to be done. Ramon had been given his chance and gained nothing. When that hadn’t worked, Major Carroll’s method had brought results.

Isabella Solis approached him. She had slowly begun to take her late husband’s place, and since the evacuation, she’d grown into his second in command, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her. Even before Ramon had been reported missing, and later confirmed dead, she had sort of faded into a quiet obscurity. But now she stood here, stronger than ever; the leader he had once known her to be. He was glad to have her back.

“George, do you have any idea how far ahead the colonel is? I don’t, and I’d feel a lot better if I knew she was taking her troops this way instead of further north.” Havelar nodded.

“At least one of the messengers should reach her tonight, I hope. They’re quick, and even with the quads, her force can only move so fast. Too much equipment.” She forced a smile and walked away, always busy with one task or another. Havelar was grateful that she helped out as much as she did. He felt ashamed for threatening Ramon, his old friend, as he had the last time he’d seen him. Ramon and Isabella should have been more included, both of them. They had been among his closest business partners once, and he’d considered them his friends. Well, not much he could do now, but accept Isabella’s continued loyalty and assistance. They would manage, until they could get word to the colonel. Once Quellar got word of their predicament, she would call off the attack and turn around. He hoped they might join up before the colonel reached the Stronghold forces. It was imperative that all Aurorans set aside their conflicts and join forces against this new enemy. He had faith the colonel would recognize the urgency. He only hoped the rebels would, as well.

Sophie Breckinbridge came walking up to him, an old-fashioned clipboard in hand. He’d often heard others tease her for using such old-fashioned equipment, but he thought he understood her. There was something deeply satisfying about scratching items off a to-do list. You didn’t really get that on a tablet.

“Sir, I have the complete supply list ready for you. We didn’t have much time…” she trailed off. He smiled weakly as he took the clipboard. Beside the tally for each item, she’d indicated how long everything could be expected to last. Weapons, cooking utensils, and such would last indefinitely, as it was only a question of whether they had it or not. Food, ammunition, and batteries on the other hand were items that couldn’t be replaced in their current situation. He glanced down the list.

“Food, two days, three tops… Batteries, a few weeks, a month at the most… Shit, we didn’t think to take any reaction batteries then…” He looked back at her. “Looks like we’ll be out of options soon.” She didn’t reply, and he handed her back the clipboard. He turned his attention to the stragglers, who were finally joining them. Jeremiah Lowell, the loud-mouth geologist, had kept his silence since leaving Fort Andrews, but now he came over, a scowl on his face. Havelar braced for the onslaught, but to his surprise, Lowell seemed to have something else on his mind.

“Governor, sir,” the professor said, his voice flat. “One of my colleagues seems to be having trouble; his heart, I fear. Do you know where Doc Bowers can be found?” Havelar frowned. After the rigorous selection process back on Earth, he hadn’t expected anyone to have heart issues.

“I do not know… But Sophie probably does. She went over there,” he said, pointing at one of the cabins that still seemed relatively intact, except for a cave-in on one side.

“Thanks, George,” the professor said, granting him a weary smile. “Some predicament, eh? Well, I won’t keep you.” He turned away, leaving Havelar puzzled. So, it seemed Jeremiah Lowell was actually capable of speaking without attacking every half-sentence.

Havelar looked at what had once been such a prosperous little town. If things had turned out differently, in a couple of decades, Port Hammer might very well have become the greatest city of the new world. Now it was a charred ruin, most of the cabins burned to the ground. He shook his head at it all, once again pondering what had happened back in Fort Andrews. There was still no word from Henry. Even with the lack of communication equipment, he should have managed to send a messenger or a data burst. It seemed Fort Andrews had fallen, less than a year after it was built. But who had caused it?

He had considered every alternative, and every time, he ended up with the same conclusion. A conclusion that sent shivers down his spine, and an urgency that he couldn’t shake. They had to move on.

Thomas Dunn

Thomas tried quieting his breath, but it was hard. He tried to focus on breathing slowly, in and out, but his thoughts kept returning to that night, back in the Stronghold. The moment he’d walked through that door into Maria’s cabin. He had committed. It wasn’t as if it had been a conscious decision or anything; he just felt different. That night had loosed something inside him, and now he was unable to focus fully on the task at hand. He knew this could be dangerous, but he couldn’t hold back. It was too overwhelming. It was love.

He smiled. Everything was sort of hazy, but he remembered her face, her eyes gazing into his as they kissed. And later, when they made love, not even the facemasks could ruin the mood.

He heard a click a ways off to his left. A clicker, a small low-tech device one of his companions had come up with, so they wouldn’t be completely reliant on radio communication. They all remembered how the comms had been cut when Havelar’s troops moved on Port Hammer, and it seemed the old tactic was being put to use again. A couple of days ago, the radio had become erratic, as if something was interfering with every frequency. It wasn’t that the comms were down altogether—they would get messages through—but it took a bit of trying. In the last few hours, however, the interference had grown stronger, making effective communication almost impossible. It could only mean one thing: an attack was imminent.

Another click. The first had meant there were sounds that could possibly be the enemy; the second confirmed the fact. A third would signal that their positioning would be perfect for a surprise attack, and that there were few enough that Thomas and his team should be able to take them out. He doubted he’d hear the third click today, though. If his suspicions were correct, this would be the main force of Fort Andrews, coming to end the war once and for all.

No, today was about observing, and their report back to the Stronghold would be far more valuable than any sort of resistance they could put up. Thomas slowly turned and shoved a small piece of foliage away from his line of sight. Then he raised his binoculars and saw the column approaching. There were at least 150 of them.
How can there be so many?
he thought. But of course, most of them would be green recruits, civilians given rudimentary training at best, while the squad leaders and a few other key personnel were fully trained soldiers. He considered withdrawing to a safe distance to then turn north to join up with the defenses up in the mountain passes. They had seen enough, and with their experience, they would be sorely needed for the defense of the Stronghold. But his mission was to observe first and foremost. Once the enemy was far enough from their safe haven, he would have his team harass them, make them have to dedicate troops to protect their back, away from the Stronghold. He would send one of his men north to report, while he kept his team out here, to shadow the southern force while they advanced through the foothills. Then, when the time was right, he’d strike.

He saw their troops were well equipped, and the quads especially worried him. He thought he could see some powerful artillery mounted on the quads. His heart sank. They were too strong. The men manning the passes would put up a good fight, but these guys would pound them to pieces from a distance. He had no idea how they would be able to deal with such a force. It would be a bloodbath.

He noticed the column come to a halt, and heard loud voices, although he couldn’t make out the words. The reaction of some of the soldiers puzzled him. A few started shouting at the ones in charge, while some looked like they didn’t know what to do. He focused and zoomed in on one of them. He was clearly crying. Why? There was a discussion, and someone approached—a woman, Hispanic, he thought, who seemed to command the attention of everyone around her.
Colonel Quellar
, Thomas thought. Who else?

The woman made those closest to her listen; officers, it seemed. Then the group spread out, barking orders to the rest of the column. The officers were taking charge of the situation. People were reined in. The man Thomas had observed supposedly crying looked like he was drying his eyes, nodding, muttering something as he set his jaw, and turned…

South!

They were turning around, back the way they had come. And it seemed they were in a hurry, too. Thomas almost felt an urge to stand up, to see better. To know what was going on. He didn’t see any of his companions; they were too well hidden. But he guessed they were as confused as he was right now. Havelar’s main fighting force, able to crush the defenses and break through to the Stronghold itself, to end the war and put Aurora firmly under their control again, was retreating.

Thomas knew he should be ecstatic right now, but all he could think was,
what the hell just happened?

Tina hammer

“You’ll need to camouflage that sniper position much better, or that’ll be the first target for their rocket launchers,” Tina said to the team leader. This was the most likely route for the advancing column, and if they got through here, the path would be wide open all the way to the main gate of the Stronghold. She had already called for Dean and his team to strengthen this position, and they would be would be taking up positions to the east, to flank the enemy. Thomas’s team was to be shadowing the enemy column, ready to strike from behind. Ben, Lisa, and Drew would be their mobile reserve, able to move quickly from one place to another, in case she was wrong about where the enemy would strike.

She feared it wouldn’t be enough, but it was all she had. The rest of the defenses would, at best, be able to slow them down, but she was committing her top forces here, betting all they had that she was right. Win or lose, this was where everything would be decided. She hadn’t heard from Thomas yet, which surprised her, as she’d expected him to send a messenger. She needed to know when the enemy arrived. She could only guess that the advance took longer than she’d expected.

“Ma’am! Somebody’s coming!” someone shouted from one of the lookout positions atop the barricade. She turned and climbed up to the observation post to see better. A woman, it seemed. Soldier, from the fatigues, but obviously green from the way she wore them. She was carrying something. A white flag!

“Let her approach, but do not let her through. She’d be able to pinpoint our defensive positions.” Tina picked up a megaphone and switched it on. She raised it to her mouth, all the while staring at the young woman approaching.

“Stop right there,” she said. The woman stopped and spread her hands.

“I’m unarmed. I need to talk to your commander.” Tina considered her for a moment.

“What is it you want to talk to me about? If you’re asking for our surrender, you’re wasting your time.” That brought chuckles from those around her.

“It’s not that…” the woman said, loud enough for all to hear. “I have a message from Governor Havelar, ma’am. We need to end this.”
Yeah
, Tina thought. She’d heard that line before. But the woman wasn’t done.

“Fort Andrews has fallen.” That made Tina drop her jaw. Fallen, how? What had happened? The woman seemed sincere. And determined. And scared.