Next World Series | Vol. 6 | Families First [Battle Grounds] Ewing, K. (free ebooks for android .txt) 📖

whatever could be fit into a makeshift pack, with women near forty pounds and children under age 15 at 20 pounds. Baker rode more like a king than a Colonel, or whatever he really was—carried by four men in a Palanquin covered by expensive cloth, when he could have ridden in the vehicle of his choice.

Sergio had one of the forward observer’s radios and kept it on, risking running out the batteries, just in case of communications. He recognized the radio at once. Not a garden variety 20-mile radius one that an outdoor person would consider sufficient, but a long-range Military model, not typically given out to citizens. He resisted the urge to call Baker straightaway and tell him they had disposed of most of his men, only leaving one to tell the story. The requests over the radio quickly turned into demands for a response from Baker’s pseudo soldiers. With Mike listening on, Sergio let the commands fall on a deaf radio, only responding with inaudible speak and various sounds they created with random objects.

“It’s like those radio shows that have us guess the sound,” said Mike. “You spend all day trying to figure it out, and it turns out to be a comb brushing a ball of tin foil covered in tomato sauce,” he said, laughing.

“Yeah, exactly!” said Sergio, and they always give it away to someone who was closest, maybe only guessing the comb part.”

* * * *

Twenty minutes later, a post-agitated and now always furious Baker came over the line, demanding to speak with his men or whoever was in charge.

“Go for Sergio!” he said, looking at Mike and sounding like a frat-house answering machine.

“This is Colonel Baker,” he spat, “and you are a traitor, Sergio! Your punishment will be death by firing squad!” he yelled.

“We will see about that,” Sergio replied. “Baker, listen good,” he continued, getting serious. “You’re not a Colonel, and everyone knows it. I took your brand because I was that serious about infiltrating your group. And now you will be the one to pay. You, Baker, are the traitor to your fellow citizens and your country. The last thing you see will be my blade across your cowardly throat.”

With that, he threw the radio, smashing it against a nearby rock.

“I don’t think they will be communicating on this channel anytime soon,” he said to Mike.

“You’re right, Sergio. We are a lot alike,” pointed out Mike. “Let’s get ready for the big show!”

* * * *

They found Mac at the machine shop, and Mike opted to stay outside. He knew it was where Sheila had been killed and didn’t want to talk about it with anyone. Sergio informed Mac that Baker was on his way, moving at foot speed for most, but more than likely the new advanced team would be here in a day or two by vehicle, reminding Mac it was only 32 miles away.

“Well, that’s not good,” replied Mac. “I was hoping we had more time. I’ll get with John and Bill right away… How do you know all this?”

“Mike and I had a little talk with a few guys already there, and I talked directly to Baker on the radio. He’s crazy as they come, but he believes everything he says, so I believe he is on his way as we speak.”

Mac ran out of the shop, right past Mike, with a “Thank you!” over his shoulder. He found both John and Bill at John’s house, talking on the back porch. Taking a minute to catch his breath before speaking, he finally said, “I used to be able to run for hours at a time; now I’m lucky to make it a mile.”

The look on Mac’s face was enough to make John sigh. “How long do we have?” he asked.

“Two days at the soonest and a week tops for the whole lot,” he replied. “The vehicles and first teams could be here as soon as tomorrow morning. They will need some time to get settled probably, or they could come straight over without stopping; we just don’t know for sure. Sergio spoke with Baker today, who said they were already on the road.”

“Do you trust him?” asked John. “Sergio, I mean?”

“Well, I guess so, since he works roundabout for the real Colonel. He has been Military for years and was in Baker’s camp as a spy.”

“I wonder if they sent one here?” asked John, rubbing his chin.

“I don’t know,” replied Mac. “But even if they did, we are keeping our plans to only a few people outside of you, Bill, Samuel and the Council. Besides, I think Baker is so confident that he never even thought of needing one. His group just bulldozes its way across the country and destroys anything in its path.”

“That makes sense,” added Bill. “What are your plans for Bert?”

“I’ll get with Lance on it, but I think we could put him at the top of the Rimrock with a view of the Valley. Maybe it will let them know we won’t go without a fight. If we need to burn it, we can try to get him back down first.”

“Are the fire lines across the Rimrock dug out?” asked Bill.

“Yes, sir—100 feet across, all the way to the reservoir. Our guys were able to put the cleared brush piled up across the very top of the ridge, so if it needs to burn, it should be hot at the very top. They still have full wheat fields on the other side and only the two-lane road separating them from the Rimrock. I hate to say it, but it could take out the whole Valley on their side if it goes up in flames.”

“Okay,” said Bill. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

* * * *

With a few helpers, Vlad drove Bert up the rocky