Nuclear winter book 4 go.., p.4
Nuclear Winter | Book 4 | Going Home, page 4
part #4 of Nuclear Winter Series
Jack nodded grimly. “Yeah, let's stay under the radar and keep our options open for now.”
The convoy passed on the highway without slowing, and after waiting a few minutes to be sure they were truly gone Pete eased out of their hiding spot and pulled onto the side road. With Torm using the map to guide him they continued their cautious routine, stopping before every line of sight break to send someone, usually Monty, to run and scout ahead.
Their caution paid off after less than five minutes, during a stop just below the top of an unusually tall hill. Monty had barely been scanning the road ahead for a few seconds when he abruptly bolted back to the car. Pete already knew it was going to be bad news even before the young private threw himself into the backseat, expression tense. “Vehicle coming this way, two or three minutes out. Looks the same as the one that attacked us.”
Jack swore. “Just a routine patrol, or are they searching for us?” Monty just shrugged blankly in response.
Pete pulled the car into a U-turn and headed back to the copse of trees they'd just passed, finding a spot to drive off the road and out of view. It wasn't great cover, but hopefully it wouldn't be an obvious enough hiding spot to draw the suspicion of the approaching vehicle. After all, even if they were searching for Pete's team, he doubted they were to the point where they'd stop every five seconds to check every possible spot.
Especially when he doubted the pursuit had narrowed down their location yet.
Even so, they all sat with tense expressions, holding their rifles ready, as they listened to the drone of the approaching engine. “If they stop, shoot out their tires and we burn rubber out of here,” Pete ordered quietly.
Torm looked doubtfully at the spot they'd parked, which didn't really allow for a quick getaway. But surprisingly he voiced no objection.
Pete caught the flash through the trees as the border patrol jeep passed, moving fast with no sign of checking hiding places along the road. If they were searching for his team's car he could only assume they were still rushing to check along all the roads, not yet exploring the possibility that their quarry might have gone to ground.
Even so he waited a bit longer before driving the car back onto the road, and when he did he had Monty get out and check the road again. They were soon on their way without mishap, but the event hadn't done any favors for their nerves.
“Seriously, this is messed up, right?” Jack said after they'd been driving for a few minutes. “I mean a bit of corruption and graft I can understand: extorting travelers for bribes, slapping them with bogus fines, making valuable items mysteriously disappear during inspections, even impounding vehicles and confiscating assets, all not outside the realm of possibility. But armed highway robbery just seems bonkers. And on a main route! How do these guys have the cojones to do it?”
Pete shrugged, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Yeah, even with the rumors and that Canadian guard's warning I had no idea things were anywhere near this bad down here. Maybe they're blaming it all on slavers.”
Their day didn't get any better over the next hour. They had to once again scramble for a hiding place as a jeep passed, this time coming from behind them and possibly the same one they'd hidden from earlier. Then a while after that they got more time to hide at the warning rumble of a larger vehicle, a military truck, passing the other way.
And finally, after barely managing to get 45 miles from the highway turnoff, they were once again forced to find cover as still another jeep approached them from behind.
“Third border patrol in less than an hour on this abandoned road,” Torm said grimly as they listened to its approach. “Face it, they're searching for us.”
“Yeah thanks for the tip, Captain Obvious,” Pete muttered, punching the steering wheel. With the windows rolled down they waited an overly cautious length of time after the drone of the other vehicle's engine had faded before he started the car and continued them on their way, moving slower than the passing vehicle to let it get a good lead on them.
But they'd reached the point where continuing on was too risky, not to mention a waste of time since they'd just have to stop and hide every few minutes, and everyone knew it. “It's about time we got off the roads,” Jack said. “Preferably far, far off the roads.”
“I second going to ground,” Monty piped up, nervously holding his rifle between his knees. Torm just grunted his agreement, as if the decision was obvious.
Pete nodded and motioned to the map as his eyes searched the road ahead. At this point it was time to start looking for smaller roads, extended driveways, or more ideally dirt tracks until they were well and truly in the boonies, somewhere they could start looking for a good hiding place. “I'll take the first likely turnoff. You just keep an eye on where we're going to make sure I'm not headed towards anything.”
Torm nodded, not needing to caution him that an outdated map from before the Gulf refineries attack wouldn't be much help for any more recent settlements or hidden outposts, especially this close to the still fairly new border between Mexico and the CCZ.
Still, it was better than nothing. It took another hour of driving on heavily eroded asphalt, crushed gravel, rutted dirt, and even lawns before they found an old abandoned barn way out in the middle of nowhere, almost completely hidden from view in a tall forest of old trees. It took Pete a while to get close to it without leaving any obvious sign of their passage, and even then they were still a hundred feet away after he found a good spot to hide the car.
They pulled a tarp over the vehicle and piled brush and deadfall over it, then lugged their gear to the barn and did their best to set up a basic camp inside it, not risking lighting a fire during the day when telltale smoke would draw attention like a beacon. It was still early afternoon, but that didn't stop any of them from settling in and getting what rest they could.
From the looks of things they might be here awhile.
Chapter Two: Evasion
The car had a military issue radio in it, one of the higher end setups. Thanks to that they were able to listen in on the frequencies the Mexican border guards were using in their hunt for the “bandits” over the next few days.
Of course none of Pete's team spoke Spanish well, which complicated things. But Monty had thought to bring an English-Spanish dictionary with him, and they could all at least recognize the names of roads and locations on the map as well as the numbers used for coordinates and distance.
The picture they were able to glean together from eavesdropping wasn't fantastic. It sounded as if dozens of border guard teams were scouring the countryside for a hundred miles in all directions from the ambush spot on the highway, and they were talking about bringing in the army as well.
The response seemed way overblown for a single car full of fugitives, even one that had taken out a patrol jeep filled with border guards. Especially since while listening in they heard reports of several slaver attacks along the northern border that were taking lower priority to the manhunt. Pete could only assume that the corrupt guards weren't too pleased that anyone who could offer proof that they were preying on travelers had escaped alive, and that more than any thoughts of revenge was why they were pushing for as many people as possible to help in the search.
A lot of effort, even to silence witnesses that could get them in serious trouble. If nothing else Pete could take small comfort in the fact that probably meant the Mexican government didn't know about or sanction what its border guards were doing.
Which was all well and good, but it also meant that laying low until things calmed down might not be an option. The half-ruined barn they were holed up in wasn't an obvious choice for a hideout, but given the scope of the manhunt eventually someone was going to stumble across it. The moment they did dozens or even hundreds of armed soldiers would converge on this location, making escape possible.
After weighing the options, balancing the urgency of getting Renault's intel to the US against the need to get out of Mexico alive, Pete finally decided that their best option was to try to get back across the border into Canada and report on the situation.
After all, if the guards pursuing them were afraid of them doing just that, it seemed like a good idea to make sure it happened.
Even so Pete would probably have to do more than a little explaining to escape the monstrous world of hurt that would be coming down on his team for their involvement in this fiasco. But better that than letting the corrupt guards be the only ones telling their version of events.
“It's a simple extraction, same as we've done dozens of times before,” he told his team the morning of their third day in Mexico. “Our goal is to reach the border to either the CCZ or Canada and get across it, depending on the situation as we travel. And it'll be a cakewalk if we get lucky and reach the border between Mexico and Canada, since it's friendly and I don't see it being very closely guarded.”
“There are a few differences in our situation, though,” Jack pointed out, Torm nodding his agreement.
Pete nodded as well. “Yeah, there are. During raids against the CCZ we can make our own extraction point using a prepared boat, which makes it easier to avoid enemy forces. Here we'll have to either head for a bridge across the Mississippi somewhere in Mexico and hope it's not guarded, then swing north and find an unguarded road into Canada, or find an unguarded road that leads from Mexico into the CCZ and make our way through enemy territory to where one of our units has stashed a boat, or in the case of extreme necessity resign ourselves to leaving the car at some point and making the rest of the trip to Canada on foot. Also we've got up to a hundred border guards hunting us and the area is sure to be on high alert.”
“And let's not forget we haven't been able to contact friendlies for backup,” Torm added.
Pete bit back a sigh. “Yeah, at the moment we're on our own. Still, this should be a piece of cake.” He stood and turned towards his tent. “Pack up, we leave in 30.”
While the rest of them broke camp Torm listened in on the radio to try to determine what border guards might be in their area, and as best he could manage it their location and direction of travel. While doing that he also pored over the map to find the best route to a border.
It was always tempting to just make a break for safety by the most direct route and put the pedal to the medal. Pete had been in hairy situations where they'd been forced to do just that, and nine times out of ten it worked because they were able to outpace pursuit and blast past any defenses before they had time to prepare for their arrival.
And by the same token, there'd been times where going slow and cautious had led to complications due to freak bad luck at the wrong moment. Still, slow and cautious was the better approach, especially in a manhunt like this, and even if they were discovered they could still opt to make a break for it at that time.
And Pete had to admit that Torm had a talent for giving directions that would keep them away from enemy eyes. At least where CCZ soldiers had been concerned; say anything you like about the interrogator, but he knew how to get into a slaver's head.
Pete stowed his stuff in the trunk and settled into the shotgun seat. “What've you got?”
Torm shifted the map to show him, tracing a route. “It's fairly direct, and as best I can guess keeps us away from where people are likely to be. We might have to take some nasty roads along the way, though.”
“Better than the alternative.” Pete nodded at the radio. “And the manhunt?”
The unkempt man shrugged. “Spanish really isn't my thing. I'm good with Russian and Chinese and I can get by in a few of the other former Gold Bloc languages, but that's from necessity.” His expression darkened. “And plenty of motivation to learn.”
Pete decided to ignore that segue into the interrogator's inner workings. “So you have no idea what our pursuers are doing?”
“I didn't say that.” Torm traced a couple roads well to the east of them. “From what I've been able to glean about their movements the Federales seem to think we might be creeping back towards New Memphis.” He frowned, then ran his finger along the border to the north, a stretch of at least a hundred miles. “That or making a break for the CCZ border.”
Pete swore. “So we go southeast?” Not exactly opposite the direction they wanted to go, but it would definitely mean a more roundabout trip home.
“That's my recommendation,” Torm agreed.
“All right.” Pete abandoned shotgun and settled into one of the rear passenger seats, raising his voice to call out to the other two members of the team as they approached lugging their gear. “Jack, you're driving while Torm navigates.”
“Aye aye, Skipper,” Jack said as he tossed his stuff into the trunk. He began doing jumping jacks as Monty finished loading up the car, loosening up to prepare for what would probably be some pretty tense driving.
Less than a minute later they were on their way.
At first the drive went okay. They made their way out of the woods and along small gravel roads until they reached a proper asphalt road headed south. It had a lot of ups and downs, along with blind corners, which made stopping to scout ahead a challenge since they'd have to do it constantly if they wanted to do it right.
Instead they opted for driving a bit slower with their windows down, listening for the sounds of other vehicle engines. Their car was reasonably quiet, which helped, and the nondescript dark green color might buy them a second or two before being spotted. But even so they stayed on high alert as the miles passed until Torm finally directed them to a road going east, then southeast.
“We're about thirty miles from the Mississippi, as best I can tell,” the interrogator eventually said.
“Getting there,” Monty said, leaning forward beside Pete to stare out the windshield. “Think this road is big enough to have a bridge?” Torm's noise of derision was answer enough; they'd have to do some searching to find a way across.
“Well we may have just had a nightmare trip south of the border, and we're returning home in shame having failed to carry out our mission,” Jack said. “But on the bright side at least now the prospect of being kicked out of the Chainbreakers and reduced to escorting convoys seems less terrible in comparison.”
“Speak for yourself,” Torm muttered. “The Chainbreakers was all I had.”
Jack took a hand off the wheel to reach over and clap the man on the shoulder. “Hey, at least you have your health.” Judging by how he flinched at the interrogator's responding murderous glare, Pete had a feeling his friend immediately regretted his casual familiarity.
The car settled into an awkward silence, which Pete supposed he couldn't complain about since they needed to be listening for other vehicles on the road anyway. But unfortunately the silence was broken in the worst possible way, by an engine abruptly roaring to life followed by the squeal of tires.
Jack swore and slammed on the gas, hard enough to push Pete back into his seat. He fought the force so he could lean out the window and look at the road behind them, where a border patrol jeep was pulling out of a driveway about a hundred yards back to take up pursuit.
Torm swore as well. “Grenade time?” he said as he checked his rifle and glanced out his window.
“No! And easy with that,” Pete hissed.
The interrogator gave him a confused look. “With my rifle? I'm just holding it.”
“Yeah, which means you're ready to use it on those guys.” Pete jerked his head over his shoulder. “We don't know if that patrol is in on it with the corrupt guards who attacked us or if they're just honest soldiers who've been lied to and think they're protecting their country against bandits.”
Torm shook his head. “If they line us all up and shoot us, what difference will it make either way?”
Pete momentarily despaired of ever getting through to his squad mate. “All the difference. We might be able to talk our way out of this misunderstanding if we don't go in guns blazing.”
“I seriously hope you aren't suggesting we surrender.” But in spite of his words Torm lowered his rifle.
“Of course not,” Pete snapped, although he honestly didn't know what to do. These soldiers were chasing them, sure, but possibly only because they thought they were raiders who'd attacked and killed a border patrol unit. They didn't deserve to die just because someone else lied to them.
Then again, Pete and his squad mates didn't deserve to die because someone else lied about them, either. And who knew if these guys were really innocent, or if they were in league with the corrupt guards and were also the sort who liked to attack and rob travelers if they thought they could get away with it?
That was a horrible justification for killing someone over a misunderstanding, though.
The issue became more complicated a few moments later, when the rattle of automatic fire from behind had them all ducking in their seats and Jack swerving the car across the road and gunning the engine even harder.
Torm turned to give him a vicious look. “There, Corp. Our pursuers are now shooting at us, and I don't think they're using magical handcuff bullets so they can arrest us and take us to a fair trial.” Pete opened his mouth, hesitated, then looked away, and the interrogator snorted. “That's what I thought. These guys are trying to kill me, and I'd rather be in a court-martial than a morgue.”
“We exhaust other options first,” Pete insisted.
“By all means. Please tell me these other options so we can begin exhausting them.”
“Hate to interrupt yet another argument about the morality of killing people who are trying to kill us,” Jack said, “but in case you haven't noticed our tail's not trying to catch up.”
That prompted the rest of them to turn and look behind them. Sure enough, the jeep was almost out of sight back there, matching their speed. The soldiers who'd opened fire on them had settled back into their seats, and there was no sign they planned to do any more shooting.
“Warning shots?” Pete suggested.
Torm laughed caustically. “More like they're cautious after seeing how we blew up the last guys who chased us.”
