The Final Day (After, #3)

“Matherson here.”

“John, it’s Black. I’m at the campus office. We’ve got three Apaches overhead. Can’t you hear them?”

That finally startled him awake, and he realized the room was reverberating with a low, steady rumble. He walked to the sunroom window, which was half-covered with frost, looked out, and caught the glint of flashing rotors sweeping by overhead.

“Any shooting?”

“Not yet.”

John continued to look out the window. The choppers were staying high, circling out along the crest line of Lookout Mountain. He watched them for a moment, catching glimpses. “Any come in low over the campus?”

“Not yet.” He could hear the nervousness in Black’s voice.

“Get on the phone to downtown Black Mountain, Asheville, any connections we have. Tell them not to shoot unless fired upon first and report anything they’re seeing. I’ll be right up.”

He hung up. Makala was already scrambling to fetch clothing and boots, helping John to get dressed.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Not sure, but if it’s a surprise attack with intent to kill, they’d already be hitting us.”

Pulling on his boots, he heard a vehicle outside, and opening the door, he saw that it was Maury in his jeep. John ran out to him, looking up, the distinct thump of a helicopter rising in pitch as the chopper raced by overhead, still keeping altitude.

“What the hell is going on?” Maury shouted as John climbed in, brushing snow off the passenger seat before sitting down.

“They’re military, desert camo pattern. They must be with General Scales. Get me to the office.”

Maury spun the jeep around through the deep snow and set off downhill to Montreat Road, the vehicle skidding as he hit the base of the road and went sideways onto the main street through the village without slowing. Maury edged off the road to get around a tree that had fallen in the last storm and had yet to be cleared and then turned to race up to Gaither Hall. As they skidded to a stop, John looked up again and saw that there were several Black Hawks as well, slowly circling at more than a thousand feet above the narrow valley.

Black was at the office door, motioning for John to come in. Out on the snow-covered front lawn, a dozen or more students were looking up, all of them with weapons. One of them was Grace.

“Do not point your weapons at them! Everyone get the hell inside!” John shouted.

“Someone on the ham radio, asking for you.”

John went to the radio, the tinny-sounding speaker crackling.

“Matherson, this is Bob Scales; please respond.”

John picked up the old-fashioned handheld mike and clicked it several times before replying.

“Matherson here. Bob, are you overhead?”

A momentary pause.

“Affirmative, John. Assumed you were in that jeep.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Nice vehicle. I’d like to see it up close.”

John hesitated for a moment. “You’re welcome to land, but flag off those Apaches and send them home.”

“Can’t do it, John. Please listen carefully. I’m asking for your immediate surrender.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“John, I’ve got assets over you that can take down your campus and all those kids in five minutes. We’re already landing in Asheville. You might have disabled the Asheville airport, but I have two C-130s touching down on the interstate next to it. I’ve also got a support column on the ground coming up from Greenville, and they have some Bradleys. It’s your call. I’ll give you five minutes to think it over.”

John put the mike down and looked at Reverend Black and Maury.

They were silent, staring at him.

The phone began to ring. Black picked it up, listened for a moment, simply said, “We already know,” and looked at John, still holding the receiver.

“That was Dunn in downtown Asheville. He said several Black Hawks have touched down near the county office complex. They’ll be in his office in another few minutes.”

“Any fighting?”

Black relayed the question, sighed, and looked back to John. “One of the security team there is shot, bad. Fired on them as they landed.”

John looked back out the window, helicopters still circling, and in spite of his orders, students were coming out of buildings, some already in winter camo, weapons up.

“John, what are you going to do?” Black whispered, still holding the phone.

He looked at his troops, his kids. Against the Posse, even against Fredericks, it was one thing, and those two fights had cost dearly. This time?

It would be a bloodbath, and for what?

“We don’t stand a chance against them.” John sighed. “I know Bob Scales. This is the A team, not those pathetic ANR kids they threw at us last spring.”

“John, I need your answer now.” It was Bob again on the radio. “I just got a report a couple of your people and mine were shot in Asheville. Stop it before it turns into a full-scale fight.”

He wanted to shout back that it was Bob who was starting it with this surprise assault coming in at dawn.

“John, they’ve got us,” Maury said softly, and John finally nodded.

“Reverend. Tell Dunn to stand down, disarm, and surrender. Get on the phone to all locations, tell them not to fire, to stand down, and await word from me later. Repeat, do not resist. You got it.”

Reverend Black sighed. “John, you’re making the right move.”

“Yeah, I know,” he replied bitterly. “Maury, get outside, tell those darn kids to get back inside. Find Kevin Malady, tell him everyone is to return to their rooms, stack weapons, and show no resistance. Got that?”

Maury could only nod and went back out the door as John picked up the mike and clicked it.

“Okay, Bob. We surrender on your word that my people are to be treated with respect, no reprisals or arrests. It’s got to be the code we once lived by, sir.”

“Agreed.”

“Wait fifteen minutes so I make sure the word is out. There’s a baseball field above the campus; you can set down there.”

“Fifteen minutes, then. Bring your jeep up to meet me, John. Make sure your people do not fire. If they do, you know what I have to do in reply.”

“Understood.”

He could hear Bob click off.

I should have expected this, he thought bitterly. But then again, what could I do differently? After two and a half years of successfully managing the defense of his community, to be caught like this was galling.

Frustrated, he threw the mike down and walked outside.

*

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