The Dragons of Men (The Sons of Liberty Book 2) (68 page)

“Hang on!” Tyler bellowed, downshifting and slamming the pedal to the floor.

They crashed into the battle, plowing through the boiling horde. Tyler veered around one of the semi-trucks and drove down into the grass median, the truck bouncing around as though it were speeding over boulders.

Not boulders,
Adam realized with horror.
Bodies.

The truck slammed into another group of fighters, blood coating the right side of the widow. The body of a man flew over the hood, smashing into the windshield and catapulting through the air behind them. Adam leaned back, kicking the cracked glass free just as Tyler cut through a narrow gap that led to the other side of the highway, gaining air as they ramped over the median.

They landed hard as a loud boom thundered from the chaos behind them. Adam turned and looked through the back window, his eyes darting past the three vehicles directly to their rear to find the final pair of burning trucks as they tumbled across the median, throwing men from their cabs and bed. The viscous mass quickly turned, descending upon the fiery wreckage before the debris had even settled.

“We lost two,” Adam said as he turned back around. “Three others made it through.”

“Damn it,” Tyler growled, slapping the steering wheel in frustration. Tyler took a deep breath, cursing as his eyes shifted back and forth between the road and the rearview mirror. The truck descended the far side of the highway and cut through a thin wooden fence. The wind circled through the otherwise silent cab as they raced toward a miraculous hope and a horrifying chaos—uncertain of which they’d find first.

The solar-powered car hummed as it slowed beneath the shadow of the two story barricade on the corner of Beebe Capps and Benton. The high wall had been designed to be a bottleneck, spanning the entirety of the intersection to form half of a square. It stretched past the roadside, linking with two adjacent groves of thick trees to guard the last entrance before the inner wall. Four Humvees and a Half-Track sat idly behind the wall, the men atop them nervously awaiting orders. Eric opened his door, leaping from the car before it stopped completely—his boots hitting the ground running. Though every ounce of the warrior within him wanted focus on whatever danger lie on the other side of the wall, his mind couldn’t stop thinking of Sarah.

Why didn’t you tell her you loved her too?
Eric thought as he began to mount a set of stairs two at a time. Once he neared the top of the two story scaffolding that stretched across the back of the stacked containers, Trey glanced his way from the center of the wall and shouted.

“Eric!” Trey ran over, huffing and puffing while the screen on his wrist was alive with a video feed.

“What happened?” Eric asked, raising a pair of binoculars and surveying the two pillars of black smoke that billowed to the south.

“Someone hit Southgate One and Two,” Trey replied, pointing southward as dozens of Guardsmen and local defenders atop the wall gathered around. “The drone video signal I setup yesterday at Southgate One cut out about a minute ahead of their attack.”

“Do we have any other eyes on the wall?” Eric asked.

“I was able to reroute the surveillance drone at Southgate Two back here before it cut out, keeping its camera focused south. I lost signal right after they hit Southgate Two, but not before catching a glimpse of the fight.”

Eric looked down at Trey’s Featherweight device as he backed the archived video to the moment of attack on Southgate Two. High in the air, the drone hovered—slowly moving away from the gate as half a dozen motorcycles hit the barricade at full speed. They exploded, engulfing the wall in flames ten seconds before a pair of dump trucks crashed into the steel. The massive trucks slowly regained their momentum while a column of semi-trucks followed. Just as a few tractor trailers halted, the video feed cut out.

“Where is Tyler?” Eric asked, looking up from the screen.

“He had gone to Southgate One for some disturbance before the attack,” Trey said.

“Did he make it out?” Eric asked.

“No idea,” Trey replied. “I was up here with him testing out some new tech when he got the call. I asked him where he was going, but he wouldn’t say.”

“Damn it,” Eric muttered. “Scan all frequencies. See if you can—”

The distant howl of bike engines roared from the south. Eric quickly raised the binoculars and looked down Benton Avenue. Twenty bikes screamed toward them, just over a mile away and closing fast.

“Snipers at the ready!” Eric yelled, dropping the binoculars and raising his own weapon as he spared a glance back toward the inner campus. The steel container he stood upon was the last of the outer barricades that stood a mile between the approaching army and inner fortifications. If they failed to stop whoever was attacking, there’d be only a few hundred trained soldiers and one low-lying wall to keep them from the women and children inside the campus.

“Open fire at six hundred yards!” Eric shouted. “Aim for the—”

The gate below them began to crank open, causing Eric to start with surprise.

“Close the gates, damn it!” Eric roared, looking around him for whoever was opening the gate.

Five unmanned solar cars sped through the growing opening, racing in a single column toward the bikes while their electric engines shrieked with strain. Eric looked to his right as Trey stepped forward, gazing at the vehicles intently, guiding them with his Featherweight. The bikes parted to each side of the road, aiming to miss the approaching line of cars completely. A quarter mile south of the wall—just as the two groups of steel were about to meet, Trey spread his fingers to the corners of his screen and the five electric vehicles swerved. Two veered to the left, another pair to the right, while one car blocked the center. The five cars formed an impenetrable wall, leaving the suicide bombers nowhere to turn.

Eric squinted as fifteen rapid explosions thundered across the ground, shaking the steel barrier under his feet. Some of the men cheered as the smoke and fire began to billow into the air. Eric, however, wasn’t one of them. He ran over to a grinning Trey.

“Worthless tech, huh?” Trey said with a grin as Eric approached.

“Shut up and stay focused!” Eric shouted, turning to the men around him. “We’re not done. We need to keep those dump trucks from plowing through this gate. Now where is Lieutenant Hicks?”

“Still at the quarry up north,” Trey replied. “Tyler said he wasn’t scheduled to return until later tonight.”

“Who’s next in charge?” Eric asked.

“Tyler,” a one-armed lieutenant next to him replied.

“And who the hell are you?” Eric asked.

“Second Lieutenant James Bren,” the man said, sticking out his one arm and shaking Eric’s left hand. “So what do we do?”

“Why the hell are you asking me?” Eric replied, quickly pulling his hand free.

“You’re the ranking officer and Tyler assured us you know your stuff better than Hicks himself,” James replied. “We’ll follow your lead.”

“Like hell you will,” Eric replied coldly. “You’re not my responsibility. I’m only here to—”

The distant roar of industrial engines growled from the south—pulling Eric’s eyes down Benton Avenue. Two dump trucks slowly picked up steam as they thundered toward the wall half a mile behind the burning wreckage.

Eric quickly looked to the men around him. Their eyes darted back and forth between him and the slowly moving dump trucks. Eric cursed, glancing back at the campus.

He didn’t want to be there, standing atop a wall he might very well die upon while the woman he loved hunkered down helplessly a mile away. Still, Eric knew that without his guidance and courage, neither Sarah nor the men of the wall had much of a chance for survival.

As Eric cleared his throat, he thought back to all the times he had wanted to abandon those who needed him, wondering if he was condemned to lead even though he wanted nothing more than to wage his battles alone. It made him want to laugh.

It made him want to cry.

“Ready the rockets!” Eric shouted, suffocating his uncertainties while pointing to the pair of demolitions experts to his right. “Arm every plastic explosive you’ve got. I want you to throw them in the intersection as far as you can.”

“What for?” a Guardsmen asked.

“We’re going to wait for those two trucks to enter this intersection and then we’re going to blow them to kingdom come. Snipers and gunners, you wait for us to unleash hell and then you hit any exposed tire you see. Let’s move!”

“Yes, sir!” they shouted back in tandem. The men readied themselves for battle as James barked, relaying Eric’s orders as he hurried the Guardsmen along. Eric turned and glanced behind the wall, his eyes finding the last three solar-powered vehicles below.

“Those still work?” Eric asked, turning to Trey as the demolitions experts began tossing multiple bricks of remote explosives into the intersection.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Eric said, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “Get off the wall now. I need you to take a vehicle back to base and make sure they safeguard the inner wall. They’ll need as many as possible to defend the inner campus. Do what you can to ensure they stay there no matter what. We’ll do what we can and then…those of us alive will be right behind you.”

“You don’t think we’ll hold?”

A loud crash resonated from the south, pulling Eric’s eyes down Benton Avenue. The lead dump truck barely slowed as it plowed through the blazing heap of steel, the second truck following closely behind.

“Just do it!” Eric shouted. Trey nodded and quickly descended the stairs as the trucks rumbled forward—flames from the wreckage licking their thick armor. The men atop the wall took up their positions, some mumbling prayers while others bellowed curses. Eric raised his rifle, taking aim at the steel covering the left tire on the first truck.

“Hold….”

Eric’s voice was quickly overshadowed beneath the truck’s rage—a pair of angry beasts howling for another easy victim to consume. Eric took a deep breath and spoke louder, vowing he’d be no easy meat for the devils before them.

“Hold….”

The men atop the wall raised their rocket launchers, taking aim as the tension of impending carnage filled the air.

“Hold….”

Behind the wall, Trey’s vehicle began to speed toward the base, capturing Eric’s attention for the blink of the eye. He quickly pushed Trey out of his mind and refocused on the approaching chaos—the battle at hand.

And as the first truck barreled into the intersection—the one thought that flashed through Eric’s mind was a wretched remorse that he might very well die without telling Sarah he loved her.

“Now!”

Judah burst through a door on the upper level of the American Heritage building, the headquarters from which the entirety of Fort Harding was governed. Men and women hurried about frantically in the room that had once served the university as a luxurious ball room for weddings and fundraisers. Judah scanned the pandemonium, his eyes quickly finding Nadia.

“Nadia!” he shouted, grabbing Alexandra by the hand as they ran forward. Sarah, his sisters, and Elizabeth followed closely behind, snaking their way through the bustling command center.

“What’s happening?” Alexandra asked as she embraced her sister.

“We don’t know,” Nadia said, her face stricken with concern and anxiety. “Tyler went to investigate something at Southgate One thirty minutes ago and—”

The glass panes on the far wall lightly shook as a thunder rolled across the campus, cutting Nadia off mid-sentence. Judah looked through the glass wall, his eyes searching for the origin of the rumble.

“What was that?”

“Tyler,” Nadia breathed quietly, distress quickly filling her eyes. Everyone paused, staring out the window. After a few seconds of silence, the radio at Nadia’s hip blared out.

“HQ, this…fighting at…copy?” a voice broken with static and gunfire bellowed through the speaker.

Nadia gripped the radio tightly—knuckles white as her diamond ring.

“Tyler, is that you?”

“Negative,” the voice replied. “Lieutenant Bren…the intersection.”

“What’s happening, James?”

“We’re…the south…engaged…breached at the final…thousands! Have…Corsa and the injured. We’ll rendezvous….” Lieutenant Bren’s voice disintegrated into a cloud of static.

“Bren, come in,” Nadia said, though she was only answered by more stillness. She muttered a curse and reattached the radio to her hip, turning to the soldier next to her. “How many men do we have inside the fort?”

“Including the Guard, almost four hundred,” the soldier replied. “There are at least as many at the sixteen outlying checkpoints and outposts.”

“Four hundred’s not enough,” Nadia growled, cursing again as she slammed her fist down on the table. “Call everyone you can back to the inner wall!”

“We’ve tried,” the soldier said. “Comms are shot.”

“Keep trying,” Nadia replied. “Hold until James and whatever men he has left make it across the creek. Blow the bridges once they’re past.”