Page 79 of Freedom Fighters
Duardo could barely see, for the wind stung his eyes, making them water and his vision blur. It wasn’t his job to see. Adjuno used Duardo’s back as shelter, peering over his shoulder as he needed to. His hand on Duardo’s shoulder steered him. Duardo’s job was to cut through the wind and keep the line moving.
Each man in the line moved half-a-step sideways, providing guidance to the one in front.
A few Insurrectos took shots at them. None of the shots came close. Duardo didn’t bother reacting. The only way anyone would to hit them would be if they pointed their gun in another direction. The wind was too strong. It made him put his pistol away and pull his knife from his belt. If the wind scatteredrifle fire, then his pistol bullets would be even less effective.
Ahead was a narrow concrete path between two of the admin buildings. The path led to the smelter that rose forty feet high behind the admin buildings. Duardo could barely see the alley. He had studied the layout last night through the night glasses and knew the general direction to head.
Step by slow step, they made their wayto the alley. A few Insurrectos tried to attack them and halt them. The line stopped while the two closest to the Insurrectos dealt with them. Twice, Duardo used his knife to fend off an assault, with Adjuno stepping around to help.
The narrow alley between the prefabricated huts seemed to channel and concentrate the wind. The pressure came from behind, sending them stumbling forward as the windpushed through the narrow aperture, whistling with a keening note that lodged in the brain. It was impossible to hear anything but the wind.
When they emerged into the open area behind the admin buildings, Duardo raised his fist. Everyone came to a halt. Jasso and Emile quartered the area with their rifles, monitoring. Adjuno tapped Duardo’s shoulder and pointed. Duardo looked.
The only roadon the island wound past the compound, just on the other side of the fence, following the rail line. A spur from the rail line ran right up to the back of the smelter building. The road and rail line turned away from the compound and ran north to the bridge that gave access to the main island.
A long line of Insurrectos were walking and side-stepping along the road. They were escaping.
Duardolooked at Trajo, bumped his fist against the palm of his hand and let his fingers spread in the air. Trajo nodded, reached into his backpack and pulled out a flare. He lit it and pointed it toward the sky.
The green flare shot up into the bruised gray sky and burst. The bright green sparkling light was dispersed by the wind. It had been spotted, though, for Duardo felt a low rumbling throughhis feet.
The concrete spans of the bridge to the mainland lifted into the air in a cloud of debris and smoke that was whipped away. Two of the graceful spans collapsed inward and down, sending tons of tarmac, concrete and iron railings into the sea.
The Insurrectos on the road halted, dismayed. Their last avenue of escape had been cut off.
Duardo ignored them and instead bent and pushed forward,his head down. The entrance to the smelter, with its guard box and heavy iron doors, was within sight. To Duardo it appeared as a large, light gray mass among a lot more gray. His vision was shot, his eyes streaming. He pushed forward, Adjuno guiding him.
Then Adjuno dug his fingers into Duardo’s shoulder and stepped up close to him. His gun arm pushed around Duardo and he fired. Duardo saw theflash from the muzzle. The shot was silent. He wiped his eyes and looked.
There were seven Insurrectos standing in the entrance to the smelter, behind the guard box. They were firing yet nothing came close.
Duardo was near enough to discount the wind. He took out three of them with quick shots. Everyone in the line behind him was firing, the wind masking their shots, and the Insurrectos droppedin front of the doorway.
Two of them stepped over their comrades and surged forward, bringing their weapons to bear. The first one threw his gun up into the air, clutching at his chest as he spun as if an invisible hammer had slammed into his shoulder.
Then Jasso stepped forward and took aim. The second was thrown backward off his feet.
That ended the defense of the smelter.
Duardo kept hisknife and his Glock in his hands and pushed his way through the ten feet of churning air to the door. He worked with Adjuno to slide the door open, then moved inside and straightened up with a sigh of relief.
He glanced around the dim interior as the rest gathered inside. There was no one else inside the building, although a lot of heavy, complicated equipment was bolted to the floors, reachingup to the roof. The roof was pierced by the smoke stack of the smelter itself. No wonder the Insurrectos had preferred to use the small trial smelter that had been built on the university grounds. It would take a team of engineers to get this thing up and running again.
Behind Duardo, someone rolled the doors shut. The daylight chopped off.
Duardo turned back to the door. “Emile. Jasso. You’reon the doors.” He had to lift his voice above the noise and fury of the wind, which despite the thick concrete walls of the building, still roared. “As our guys get here, let them in. Shoot anyone else that approaches.” He glanced around at the rest of them. “Everyone find somewhere comfortable and camp. We’ll be here for a while.”
“Who blew the bridge?” Garrett demanded. “It looks like everyfree Loyalist is out there fighting, except you seven.”
“You’re right,” Duardo agreed. “Everyone fit enough to stand up straight is out there. It’s your men who blew the bridge.”
“Who is leading them?” Garrett demanded, his eyes narrowing as he thought it through. It was a good question, a question a good leader would want answered.
“My brother,” Duardo told him. “You know him as Nemesis.”
“Nemesis!” Carmen repeated, surprised.
“Are you related to everyone in Vistaria?” Garrett asked, sounding peeved.
Duardo grinned. “If you take the family trees of Vistarians far enough back, then yes, we’re all related.” He fished his cellphone out of his thigh pocket and dumped his back pack. “I have calls to make, if there’s still a cell network operating.”
He turned away as everyone spreadout, looking for the least uncomfortable spot they could find among the concrete and steel.
It would be a long twelve hours.
