State of Rebellion

Chris grabs my arm and drags me down the hillside, heading for lower ground. We’re too far into the interstate to take cover under the freeway. The road is at ground level, plus we’ve planted landmines all along the road. We duck into the low bushes, staying hidden under rocks and trees. The screaming of the incoming jets strike terror into my heart. I clutch Chris’s arm as he pulls me close. The rain is starting to fall harder, sticking my uniform to my skin. Uriah scrambles down next to us, while other members of our militia scatter throughout the hillside. The jets streak by overhead, sweeping through like dark birds.

Something drops from the first bird. It detonates upon impact, turning the grass into a smoldering mass of dirt and grass. Flames spring up despite the rain, giving everything a hellish aura. More weapons hit the earth. Every impact is like an earthquake. I can feel the expulsion of air on my lungs, each shockwave hitting me like a brick in the chest.

Chris holds me against him and I hang on for dear life, praying to God that one of those things won’t hit us. The barrage seems to go on for an eternity, never ceasing long enough for me to recover from each shockwave. The hills are alive with flames now, and the rain isn’t falling hard enough to put out the fire. At last the enemy jets stop their attack, and Chris’s grip on me eases a bit.

“Are they gone?” I ask.

“They’ll be back,” Uriah replies, his dark eyes glimmering with hatred. “But we’ve got our own birds, too. I’d suggest you radio Rivera and call in the Air Force.”

Chris nods.

I remain still, listening to the crackle of fire against the dry grass.

Please rain harder, I think. Put out this fire before…

Wait.

I pull back from Chris.

“Which way is the wind blowing?” I ask.

“Um…I don’t know. South?” Uriah says.

“We need to drive this fire towards the Chinese. Nothing can stop a wildfire.”

Chris fixes me with a surprised look, a smile spreading across his face.

“Cassie, that’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

“It’s the only idea I’ve had all day.”

He hits the radio and contacts Rivera.

“Rivera, this is Alpha One,” he says. “What’s your status?”

“We’re alive,” Rivera replies. “What’s your status?”

“My platoon is uninjured. Radio air support. Tell them to be ready to combat military aircraft.”

“Will do,” Rivera says, but he sounds shaken.

I grab my radio and contact Max’s platoon.

“This is Yankee, over,” I say.

Nothing but static. Chris tries on his radio. Uriah tries his, too. Nothing.

“Oh, my god,” I breathe. “Do you think they’re hurt?”

Chris sets his jaw.

“Possibly.”

Uriah shakes his head.

“No. No way am I leaving this position to check on another platoon,” he says. “If those jets come back while we’re on the move, we’ll be out in the open.”

“I’m not leaving them to die,” Chris snaps. “And I’m not asking you to come.”

“You’re not going without me,” I tell him.

He nods. No argument.

That’s new.

Uriah rolls his eyes.

“You care too much.” He holds out his hands. “But I get your point.”

What Uriah might not understand is that despite the fact that it’s dangerous to check up on Max’s platoon, it’s worth it. Max, Derek, Sophia and Jeff are the best soldiers we have. If we lose them, we’ll lose a lot of the militia’s morale. We can’t afford it. Plus, Chris has already lost Alexander this week. He doesn’t want to lose anybody else. Neither do I.

Chris turns to a young man staked out behind us. I don’t remember his name. Andrew, I think. I don’t know.

“You’re in charge until I get back,” Chris says.

The kid stares at Chris with an expression of shock, then nods.

“Yes, sir,” he says.

Chris doesn’t hesitate in moving forward. I dart behind his shoulder, Uriah on my tail. We move through the grass, feet sinking into mud. My brilliant plan of driving a fire towards Omega won’t do much good if the rainfall continues to get heavier. Max and his platoon are four hundred yards from our position, and the rain and darkness make it even more difficult to navigate the rough terrain. All the while, Uriah anxiously listens for any signs of enemy aircraft.

As we approach their position, I stop dead in my tracks. Where Max and his platoon were hiding is nothing but a smoking, flaming crater. Horrified, I run forward and claw my way up the hill. “Sophia!” I scream. “Max! Derek! Jeff!”

Dead militiamen are lying in the mud, burnt and mutilated beyond recognition. I fall on my knees and cover my mouth, fighting the gag reflex.

“Cassidy!”

I look up. Sophia is ru

“Where are the others?”

“Here!” Jeff crawls out of the tall grass. Chris heaves a sigh of relief and pulls his brother into a fierce hug. Max is there, as well, but I don’t see Derek.

“Where’s the rest of the platoon?” I ask. “Where’s Derek?”

“I don’t know where everybody is. We scattered.”

I bite my lip.

“We need to get out of here. The cover’s been fried.”

“Exactly.” Chris kneels down. He grabs his radio and calls the other nearby platoons. “We’re going to light these mountains up. We’re burning them down.”

“But… why?” Sophia asks, trembling.

“We’re going to push Omega back. They can’t fight against a wall of flames.”

“They’ll try.”

“They’ll just come in with their jets,” Uriah says.

“It’s a lot harder to see the enemy when the ground is covered in smoke,” Chris replies.

Our militia platoons roll in with a couple of vehicles. Soldiers dump barrels of diesel fuel on the grass. And from there, all it takes is a spark. Soon the entire field before us on fire, the flames reaching skyward, the wind whipping it hotter, towards Omega.

“Keep lighting up the hillside,” Chris orders. “Follow the interstate and make sure you drive it back. The wind is blowing south, right in their direction. Keep it going.”

The smoke is getting thicker. I watch in amazement at how quickly the fire takes hold of grass and devours it. Within a few minutes, acres of hillside is consumed with flames, billowing black, angry smoke and tossing it into the night sky. The cold drizzle is no match for its power.

We have to pull away from the fire as the heat becomes more intense. The militia continues to ignite walls of flames across the hillside, skipping over the interstate and jumping to the other side.

“Not a bad idea, Cassie,” Chris compliments. “By the time it gets to them, it’ll be too big for them to stop.”

“I hate burning the mountains up like this.”

“Think of it as a reverse scorched earth policy.” He shrugs. “We’re burning up their supplies and their troops in front of us rather than behind. That gives us the advantage.”

“I guess.”

We’re standing at the base of one of the bigger mountain ridges, the one currently being eaten by fire. Sophia is holding onto Jeff’s arm, and I find myself smiling. She’s made a new friend.

Chris looks at them, then back at me.

“Jeff and Sophia?” he asks.

“Don’t ask me,” I shrug. “She’s trying to get over Alexander.”

“I didn’t see that coming.”

I laugh.

“I didn’t see us coming either, but here we are,” I say.

And then I’m surprised again.

Jeff suddenly moves away from Sophia and runs forward, yelling something at the top of his lungs. I don’t even have time to make out what he’s saying before something hits Chris in the chest.

He stumbles backward, and I can feel the force of the impact from here.

I scream and Jeff, Sophia, Uriah and Max drop to the ground. I do the same and crawl on my belly over to Chris, who’s lying on his side, his face contorted in pain. I roll him on his back, frantically searching his body for any wounds. I hang my head in relief. A bullet is wedged into his vest, but it didn’t pierce the skin.