Apache Dawn: Book I of the Wildfire Saga (79 page)

The Ranger jumped down into the snow and ran for cover.
 
“Let’s move!
 
Find some cover!”
 
They ran for the rubble pile of the nearest house and dove down behind a collapsed brick wall.
 
“Keep your mouth open!” Deuce said and covered his head and ears.

Denny did likewise, just the grenades exploded.
 
Even through tightly-closed eyes his world went white.
 
His body was pounded by the grenade blasts—then there was an even
louder
explosion.
 
He felt the breath ripped from his body and thought his lungs had been turned inside out.
 
The bricks that shielded them rained down on top of the two men like hail.

When at last he could claw a breath into his lungs and cough the mortar and brick dust out, Denny opened his eyes and moved some debris from his head.
 
There was a muffled ringing sound in his ears that was so intense it threatened to steal his thoughts.
 
He cleaned his face with the back of a hand and gradually his vision returned.
 
He saw Deuce was rising through the rubble pile with a grin on his face, missing his helmet, blood trickling from his ears.

The Ranger turned to him, his face lit by the glow of a fire, and said something.
 
Denny heard a mumbled gibberish and nothing else but a constant ringing sound.
 
He blinked and started to rise up, feeling bricks and wood chips fall off his back as he emerged from the debris of the abused house.

Deuce picked up his helmet and put it back on, his mouth still moving.
 
Denny could hear only a higher-pitched ringing now.
 
He shook his head.
 
Deuce grinned, grabbed him by both shoulders and turned him toward the source of the glowing light.
 
What was left of the tank-like missile launcher was now on its side, blown completely in half.
 
The launcher’s mechanical guts were spread out in the shallow crater formed when the four missiles detonated on the rails.

Slowly, the ringing in his ears faded and he could just barely make out what Deuce was yelling and smiling about.
 

“We did it!” the Ranger was screaming.
 
Denny could see the cords in his neck standing out as he yelled, but the sound that reached his tortured eardrums seemed like a loud whisper through a pair of earmuffs.

Denny fumbled with shaking hands for the headset that was hanging by a cord on his chest.
 
His hands felt thick, but he managed to get the earbud in place.
 
He cranked the volume and heard Captain Alston’s excited voice:

“−
hell you did, but you just lit up half the town!
 
Regroup at the rendezvous point, we need to give the locals some cover!
”

“Roger that, Actual!
 
We’re on our way!” yelled Deuce with a whoop.
 
“God
damn
that was
awesome!
 
I love my job!”
 
He clapped Denny on the back.

Denny looked at the wreckage of the SAM launcher and blinked in amazement.

Who am I?

Denny struggled to catch up to Deuce, who was making a beeline for the old Citgo station a few blocks away.
 
He barely had time to glance at the houses and what was left of the town he’d called home for more than a decade.
 
The burned-out, half deserted town looked more like a war zone.
 
Hell
, he reminded himself,
it is a war zone and I’m fighting the war
.
 
The sound of gunfire and that ever present
whump-whump-whump
just added to the madness.

Up ahead something exploded on the other side of town, showering the sky with glowing sparks.
 
“The hell was that?” he called out.

“Hopefully that damn BTR!” answered Deuce, checking the street for movement.
 
He ran full-speed for cover.

They ran past startled citizens emerging from houses to peer into the storm, looking for the cause of the fires and explosions.
 
Others were cowering behind opened curtains.
 
Most houses were empty or simply ripped-open husks of what they once were.

“Hammer 2, this is Dagger Lead—Marine strike-force closing on your location—how copy
?”
 
Denny was momentarily startled by the sudden, dynamic voice of the pilot in his ear as he ran.
 
He nearly tripped over a section of busted sidewalk, buried in the snow.
 
Finally, after the long sprint, he reached the rendezvous point, completely spent and out of breath.

Captain Alston, Zuka, and Deuce were already stacked up along the wall of the gas station by the time Denny crashed into the building in a huff.
 
The Rangers looked at each other and grinned as Denny dropped to his knees and gasped for breath.

“Dagger Lead, Hammer 2, Actual.
 
I read you five-by-five.
 
Welcome to the party.
 
We took down the remaining SAM sites, you got clear skies.”
 
Zuka held up a map in front of the Captain.
 
“Ivan’s holed-up on grid Victor-Romeo, one-three-niner, alpha.
 
Friendly forces are on east side of the town, backed up to the river.
 
All other foot mobiles are hostile,
repeat
, all other foot-mobiles are hostile.
 
What’s your ETA?”

“Hammer 2, Actual, we are ten clicks out and comin’ in hot.
 
Fuel for one pass.
 
Whirlybirds are on our tails and will provide close-in support for the EVAC.
 
Tell your boys to hunker down—target coordinates are locked
.”

“Roger that, Dagger Lead, good hunting!”

Captain Alston leaned around the map Zuka was holding.
 
“You heard the man, this is going to be danger close.”

Denny gasped for breath.
 
“What was all that about?”

“There’s a flight of Marine Corps F-35 Lightning’s coming in to lay a strafing run on the Russians.
 
NORAD got the word out and they were the only ones available to assist.
 
I guess they’re coming long-distance, because they’re only going to make one pass before they fly home.
 
Should be some helicopters along in a minute to get us the hell out of here.”

“Oh,” said Denny, staring at the snow.
 
“Well, okay then.”
 
His head was spinning with the events of the last few days as he tried to ignore the chuckling Rangers.
 
His world had suddenly become a surreal environment: violent explosions everywhere he turned; dark-clad Russian invaders scrambling around engaging his friends and neighbors in blistering firefights; the systematic slaughter of many good citizens at the hands of the Russians; an armored personnel-carrier rumbling about trying to kill his friends; and now American jets making bombing runs across his town.
 

“Hey,” said Deuce.
 
He put a reassuring hand on Denny’s shoulder.
 
“Hang in there, sir.
 
You’re doing great.
 
It’ll all be over soon.
 
Now that we’ve taken out the SAM sites, Ivan’s gonna get a surprise, even if it
is
just a bunch of Marines.”

Zuka laughed. “Hell, I’d welcome the Coast Guard at this point.”

“Oh I’m not turning down the assist,” said Deuce, a half-smile on his lips.
 
“I just think it’d be more dignified if it weren’t Marines doing the rescuing.”

Captain Alston let the Rangers laugh for a moment before he spoke.
 
“All right, settle down.
 
We need to get across the street into that house and get some cover.
 
Let’s go.
 
We don't want to be next to this thing when the jet jockeys get here,” he said, patting the wall of the gas station.

Zuka peered around the south corner.
 
“Clear.”

“Clear,” replied the Captain, looking around the north corner.
 
“Let’s move.”

They double-timed to the sturdy-looking house across the snow-covered street and took up positions on either side of the front door.
 
The house was mostly still intact—one of the few remaining the area.
 
Denny glanced up the street.
 
The house had a good view to the east.
 

One solid kick from the big Ranger and the door crashed in, allowing Zuka and Captain Alston to rush in weapons-up, lights on, followed quickly by Deuce.
 
In seconds, the house was cleared and they called for Denny.
 

“I hope your friends are getting behind some cover,” said the Captain as Denny entered the front room of the abandoned house.
 
The Rangers were in the shadows, looking out the windows at the dome of glowing light in the distance.
 
The brilliant orange, flickering light pin-pionted where the fighting was taking place on the other side of town.

“Hammer 2, Actual, this is Dagger Lead.
 
Commencing our attack run.
 
Danger close, danger close, danger close
.”

“Here it comes!” said Captain Alston.
 
He made a show of covering his ears, closing his eyes, and opening his mouth as he crouched down low to the floor.
 

The Rangers grinned.
 
Denny looked out the window as he heard the tremendous roar of the jets overhead, through the walls, through his chest, in the soles of his feet.
 
The house shook as the jets split the night in their passing.
 
Then the town of Salmon Falls exploded.

Houses and businesses—buildings that he had walked past or driven by countless times exploded into matchsticks and blossoms of fire and sparks.
 
The ground shook as missile after missile streaked into the Russian lines and pummeled the town.
 

As the last explosion rocked the house, Denny could just make out glowing stars moving across the darkened sky in a diamond formation—ten of them.
 
In seconds, the jets were screaming-off to the northeast, leaving the town burning in their wake.

Then the second wave hit.
 
More jets, more missiles riding fire and smoke through the air, more explosions.
 
The ground trembled, the house shook, sparks and flaming debris flew through the air across the east end of town.
 
The destruction was beautiful and horrible, yet mesmerizing to behold.
 
Denny couldn’t take his eyes off the devastation.
 
And then it was over and the jets were gone.
 
The only thing left was the sound of the raging fires and the clouds of debris raining down on the town.
 
The deafening silence of the snow returned to drape an eerie blanket over Salmon Falls.

Captain Alston stood up and brushed glass off his uniform.
 
“Well,
that
ought to even the odds a little.”

Denny hadn’t even noticed the big picture window had imploded not ten feet from him, showering the room with shards of glass.
 
He watched, hypnotized, as the curtains danced in the breeze, while the town of Salmon Falls burned beyond the window frame.
 
As the noise of the jets and explosions receded, he began to regain his senses and noticed his hands were trembling in-time with his racing heart.

“Hammer 2, Actual, Dagger Lead—our run is complete, multiple good kills.
 
That BTR shouldn’t be giving you any more trouble.
”

“Roger that, Dagger Lead, thanks for the assist.”

“Oorah, Ranger.
 
Switchblade will be taking over close-air support in a few minutes, just hang tight.
 
Dagger Lead, out.
”

“Let’s move, Rangers.
 
There’s still a fight to win.”

“Hooah!” replied Zuka.
 
The little Ranger looked positively giddy.

Denny followed the soldiers out, his head still in a daze over the destruction he had just witnessed.
 
It was one thing to read about air strikes in some foreign land, quite another to witness one in your own home town.

As they approached the heart of the battle between the townspeople and the remaining Russian troops, Denny could hear something, a growing rumble of noise that began to rise above the gunfire, the roar of the fires…

Cheering.

All around them, people were rushing out of their homes, carrying baseball bats, garden tools, sticks, pipes, anything they thought would work as as weapon.
 
The entire town—what was left of it—was joining the fight and swarming like a hive of angry hornets toward the surrounded Russians.

This is going to be a blood bath
, he thought as he stared around in shock at the tide of humanity rapidly advancing toward the invaders, toward vengeance.
 
They’ll rip the Russians limb from limb
.