The Alpha Chronicles (19 page)

Nick smiled at her gumption, and then shook his head. “You don’t have to do this. You and Bishop have done more than your share.”

“Are you saying you don’t need experienced fighters?”

Nick knew where the conversation was headed. On more than one occasion, Terri had proved herself the equal of most any man in a gunfight. He had witnessed her skillset personally.

“Terri, I can’t in good conscience allow a pregnant woma
n to enter a battle. I don’t care a rat’s ass about honor, equality, or the fact that every female left in the country needs a pioneering spirit to survive. Intentionally putting you in harm’s way goes against my grain.”

Terri’s expression
softened, her friendship with Nick strong. “Are you going to scout the town first?”

“As a matter of fact I
am.”

“Let me go in first.
I know the people there better than anyone on your team. I’ll know if something is wrong. If there are lawbreakers around, their suspicions are less likely to be aroused by a pregnant girl.”

Nick thought about the idea and had to admit she was right. Still, the mere chance that something could happen to her made his stomach churn.

Terri touched Nick’s shoulder, interrupting his thoughts. With a serious tone, she reminded him, “Nick – the people in Meraton are my friends, too.”

That was the
clincher, the final argument he couldn’t debate. Still, he had conditions. “Terri, so help me God… if there’s even the slightest indication of trouble, I want you to find a safe corner and hide. Promise me you’ll not do anything brash or foolhardy.”

“Promise.”

As an afterthought, Nick asked, “Where’s Bishop? I assume he knows what you’re planning?”

Terri waved him off, “
Oh, I would have told him for sure, but Bishop left to check on the ranch first thing this morning. He won’t be back until much later this afternoon.”

Oh great,
he thought.
I just told my best friend’s wife she can tag along and gather Intel on criminals prior to a skirmish. That’s just great.

He shook off the concern over Terri and jumped back into organizing his men. Heeding Deke’s advice, Nick had decided to arrive in Meraton with a show of overwhelming force. Normally, 10-20 men would be enough to handle practically any situation, but today almost 50 were going to make the trip. If Meraton and the Beltran ranch were calling for help, the situation must be extremely serious.

Nick paced over to one of his team leaders and said, “Good morning. Has everyone in your group been briefed on the plan?”

The man nodded nervously, “Yes, sir. Our job is to approach from the north.”

Nick smiled to relax the man, and then lowered his voice to a whisper. “We don’t know what we’re walking into, but your guys are well trained, brave men. It could be just a few drunken nomads trying to shoot up the market. No one knows. We’ll be okay, if we just stick together.”

Two 18-wheel semi-trucks were requisitioned to provide transport for equipment. Six ATV units were wheeled onto one trailer, while packs, equipment, and supplies filled the second.

A school bus would provide the majority of the men a ride to the outskirts of the troubled town. A pickup full of shooters was designated to escort the convoy, with a string of 4-wheel drive pickups bringing up the rear. Nick sighed, thinking about the amount of fuel that was going to be consumed during the endeavor. Refined fossil fuel, gasoline and diesel, was going to be their choking point, and everyone knew it. He began to question the wisdom of today’s investment, but then thought about all of his friends in Meraton.
If we ever called for help, I’d want them to respond like this
, he decided.

An hour later, the convoy rolled out of town, a parade unlike anything the citizens of Alpha had witnessed in a very long time. Diana and Kevin stood, watching the procession, waving at the vehicles as they passed.

“Should I have delivered a rah-rah, go get ’m speech?” asked Diana, trying to lighten the mood.

Kevin didn’t respond, silently cursing the wound that prohibited him from being at this father’s side.

Bishop turned off the truck, his routine of covering his tra
cks and disconnecting the booby traps complete. The morning sun glinted off the camper’s shell as he walked toward what had been their home for several months. Everything looked undisturbed.

His first thought was of the Bat Cave, really a rock room that he had modified with
a heavy steel door and locks. His weapons, the bank robber’s gold, and all of his other equipment was untouched.

Next, he checked the camper, and while dusty, it too had not receiv
ed any visitors since he and Terri left in a rush. He gathered up the small amount of food that could possibly spoil in the next few weeks, and set it aside.

The hot tub was full to the brim thanks to the constant trickle of water dripping from
the rock shelf above. He gingerly bent down, scooped a handful of clear, cool, spring water, and drank his fill. They had celebrated Christmas here just a few weeks ago, the memory of Terri’s childlike excitement bringing a smile to his face.

The garden was the only casualty
. His meager plantings hadn’t survived the absence of irrigation. If the number of tracks were any indication, the local rabbit population had been busy with a harvest of their own.
At least all that work hadn’t been a total waste of time
, he thought.
The jacks probably managed a few nibbles before the sprouts completely shriveled away.

By the
time he loaded the truck with ammo, some gun cleaning supplies, and spare clothing for himself and Terri, Bishop was exhausted. His throbbing shoulder and left side warned him that he was overdoing it.

Assessing
the strength of the sun and the heat, he decided a nap was in order, despite the early hour. The Bat Cave would be cool and shady. There was a cot in there that was far from a torture device, so he locked the truck’s bed and made for one of his favorite resting spots.

Bishop entered the refreshing stone
chamber and closed the door behind him. Unfolding the old makeshift bed, he fashioned a pillow out of one of his packs and gently lowered his aching frame onto the sagging, olive green canvas.

Ten minutes later, a gentle rasp of snoring added its voice to the desert’s morning choir. 

Two miles outside of Meraton, Nick motioned for the driver to pull over. The team leaders dismounted and met Nick along the side of the road where he repeated the plan to ensure everyone understood.

“This is very simple folks. Team 1 is going to head off across the desert in their four-wheel drive trucks. They’ll dismount and approach Meraton on foot from the north. Team 2 is going to wait right here until Team 1 is in position. Everyone clear on that?”

Nick surveyed the circle of attentive, nervous faces but didn’t see any problem. He continued, “I’m going to give Terri a ride into town and drop her off. She is going to try to get us some intelligence on what’s going on. She’ll have a radio, and we can all hope to have a better picture of the threat before we move in. Is everyone clear on that?”

Again, the circle of men nodded their understanding.

“Let’s do it!”

Nick watched as men hustled off, some nervous, some showing outward fear, and others calm, cool and collected.
Just like any other group of soldiers I’ve led
, thought Nick.
They’ll all do fine.

A few minutes later Nick pulled into a vacant lot on the edge of Meraton. In the distance, he and Terri could see activity on Main Street, but couldn’t make out many details.

“It looks like the market is opening like usual,” observed Terri.

“Hard to tell from here. I don’t want to get any closer in case someone gets curious. You good?”

Smiling, Terri patted her pistol and then pointed at the small radio beside her in the seat. “I’m good.” She picked up a baseball hat and proceeded to tuck her hair under the hat. A pair of sunglasses rounded out the disguise. “There’s not that many pregnant ladies walking around,” she noted, “but this little get-up might keep a few folks from recognizing me.”

She reached for the door as Nick said, “Good luck. I’ll be standing by.”

Terri approached the edge of the market, trying to measure her stride and appear casual. The tables, booths, and vendor display areas were bustling with activity as the shopkeepers went about setting out their wares. Her first observation was everything looked normal.

Meandering toward The Manor, Terri noted three strangers talking with Pete and Betty on the sidewalk. Something wasn’t quite right. Pete’s body language was stiff, and Betty seemed nervous. Switching her focus to the men she didn’t recognize, she immediately noticed one of them carried a pistol, the holstered weapon peeking out as the fellow raised his arm to point.

Almost everyone in Meraton was armed, by either shouldering a rifle or carrying a sidearm on a belt, so that observation wasn’t especially concerning. What she saw next made her heart race.

Two men approached the strangers, casually walking along and apparently doing a little window-shopping. Both of the gentlemen wore revolvers on their belts. When they approached the group surrounding Pete, one of the strangers moved to intercept the shoppers, his hand moving closer to the weapon at his waist. The large stranger also stepped in the same direction.
They’re bodyguards
; Terri sensed immediately,
they’re protecting the older man. He’s in charge.

The two shoppers evidently felt the intimidation and changed their direction to keep their distance.

Terri continued through the market, slowly sauntering by several tables while pretending to shop. Other than the three men talking with Pete and Betty, she couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Cutting down a side street, she found a quiet spot and pulled the radio from under her maternity blouse.

“Nick, are you there?”

“I’m here, Terri. What’s going on?”

“There’s definitely something weird here. I see three hard-core strangers on Main Street, and everyone is nervous around them. It reminds me of when the bank robbers were in town. People avoided them or looked away. Other than that, everything looks completely normal.”

“Our teams are still about three minutes from moving in. Is it safe for you to keep scouting?”