Reclamation (Best Laid Plans Book 4) (26 page)

Tom Harding came by early, since he had the shortest distance to go, and they chatted as they waited for everyone else. As the volunteers he'd be leading trickled in Trev noticed other people had tagged along, friends and family members. Maybe in a show of support, or maybe because they were on the fence about volunteering themselves and wanted to be convinced. He noticed Alice Thornton was one of the spectators, which struck him as a bit odd because she didn't really know anyone in his squad; her friends among the volunteers were all in Matt's squad.

Trev didn't mind the onlookers as long as they weren't a distraction, and even offered to let them train, with the reasoning that knowing how to handle a gun was always a useful skill, and even more so these days. A few hesitantly agreed, but most seemed content to just watch. Hopefully they'd learn something useful even so.

After he'd gone around to all the volunteers, shaken their hands, and introduced them to each other he had them line up in front of him. “As you can probably guess, we don't have much ammo to spare for training,” he began. “Which means we need to get the most training value out of every shot. Any guesses what we'll be doing the rest of the time?”

“Dry fire practice?” Tom asked wryly.

Trev grinned at the older man. “Right.”

“Wait a second,” Alice said from among the spectators. “Are you even going to do any shooting today?”

He turned to look at her, again wondering what she was doing here. “That depends on how well everyone does with the basics.” She seemed to accept that, or at least had nothing else to add, so he turned back to his squad. “Now, I see the town has made good on their promise to give each of you the best equipment they have. That means we'll all be using standardized M16s and 1911s. For today let's focus on pistols.”

Turning away from everyone at an oblique angle so they could still see his hands and weapon, he drew his new 1911 and unloaded it, making his movements slow and obvious so everyone could see what he was doing and how he was doing it. That meant removing the magazine, ejecting the round in the chamber (and catching it as it flew away), then doing a mag and chamber check. Then, to be absolutely sure the gun was unloaded, he did another mag and chamber check.

Once he was satisfied he holstered it again. “My weapon is now unloaded and ready for dry fire practice. Notice I say it out loud, to cement it in my mind. When I'm finished with dry fire practice and load and cock my weapon so it's ready for use, I'll tell myself it's now loaded out loud. Just to be certain I don't decide on a whim to do just one more round of dry fire practice and end up shooting anything by accident.”

He drew his weapon again, holding it at the ready position pointed downrange. “My weapon is now unloaded, with no chance I can shoot anything with it.
What don't I point it at
?”

“Anything you don't want to shoot,” Tom once again answered for the group, sounding a bit impatient.

Trev nodded. “Rule one of firearm safety. Loaded, unloaded, safety on, safety off, you never point the gun at anything you don't intend to shoot. That's the best way to guarantee that even the most careless person will never have a tragic accident. Rule number two is similar: keep your finger off the trigger unless you're ready to shoot. Rule three, keep your firearm unloaded until you're ready to use it.”

He hesitated, looking around the group to make sure his warnings were sinking in. This was literally a matter of life and death. “If you're in a situation where you need to keep your gun loaded so you can be ready to use it quickly, which will probably be the case a lot of the time once we leave here, the rule is to keep your firearm holstered unless you're ready to shoot something or you need to inspect or maintain the weapon. Similarly, for those guns that have a safety always keep it on until you're ready to shoot, and put it back on as soon as you finish shooting. Any questions?”

Trev waited, but no one spoke. Most looked as impatient as Tom. “All right then. Everyone unload your weapons. Let me know if you need help. I'll be coming around to watch you all do a mag and chamber check to be sure there were no mistakes. Once we're all ready I'll walk you through the dry fire drill, which includes drawing, holstering, the various positions of readiness up to firing position, clearing malfunctions, and the actual dry fire itself.”

“Question,” Mason Priscott, a man in his 30s who'd lived in Aspen Hill for over a decade, said as he raised one hand. Trev nodded to him. “If we already know all this stuff do we still need to do it?”

“Short answer, yes,” Trev said with a slight smile. “Long answer, yeeeeeesssssssss. Aside from live fire practice this is the best training you can do, and you can never get too much training. You don't just want to learn this, you want it deeply ingrained in your muscle memory. That way when you're out there with bullets flying all around you, and an enemy pops up and everything's going wrong, you don't need to think about what you're going to do because you've already done it thousands of times.”

For the next few hours he ran everyone through dry fire drills and made sure they were all using the proper grip and finger placement on the trigger. Once he was sure they were doing things reasonably well he had everyone fire one full magazine, stopping them after each controlled pair of shots to correct any signs of the usual problems that threw off a person's aim and tended to get worse over time if not corrected.

Eight shots felt woefully inadequate to help accustom the volunteers to recoil and make sure they were acquiring a proper sight picture, but they really didn't have the ammo to spare. Hopefully they could make up for that with consistent dry fire practice, since they didn't have many alternatives. Last of all he taught them how to disassemble, clean, and reassemble their 1911s.

Trev sent everyone home after getting them to agree to meet back tomorrow at the same time. The plan for the next training session was to take them through a few full sets of dry fire drills on the pistol to keep them fresh in their minds, then move over to the rifle and work on that. A few of the volunteers wanted to ask questions or just chat with him as everyone else left, and as he talked with them he saw Alice waiting for him.

Most of the spectators had left after a half hour or so, when they realized they were just going to be watching everyone do the same thing over and over with empty guns. The few spectators that had remained to the end had already left with the friends or family they'd been waiting for, leaving the young woman one of the last people left at the shooting range. He saw now that she'd brought Chauncey's familiar rifle case with her, probably carrying his shotgun, and she had it slung over her shoulder.

He excused himself from the other recruits, encouraging them to make sure they were packed and ready to leave even though the departure date wasn't for a week, then made his way over to her. “Hey Alice. Did you need something?”

“Yeah. I want to join your squad.”

Trev blinked. She'd said it so casually it took half a second for the words to sink in. “I, uh, wasn't expecting that. Have you talked to Matt?”

The young woman flushed slightly. “Matt's squad is full, so I came to you. You've still got a spot open, right?” Trev hesitated, and her expression darkened. “Is it because of my age? I turned seventeen last December. I'm older than Pete, and Matt's letting
him
go.”

“You still need to talk to Matt,” Trev insisted. Then he hesitated, feeling a bit bad for dumping an awkward conversation on his friend. He decided to be blunt. “And he'll probably say no. Pete might be a bit younger, but he's been through a lot more fighting and proven he can handle himself. Also he pretty much threatened to go off on his own if we didn't bring him along.”

He'd been half afraid she'd explode in fury, but instead Alice assumed a determined expression. “And you think I won't? I don't know if Matt told you, but I joined the last fight against Turner's raiders. I could barely hold a gun but I had the guts to point it at the enemy and pull the trigger, even when they were shooting back. I'm ready to do that again.”

Well this was unexpected. Matt
hadn't
told him Alice had been part of the last fight, although she was one of many who had and his friend hadn't taken the time to name them all. Still, he hadn't seen this spark in the blond young woman the last time he'd seen her, back when they'd made molotov cocktails together the day Ferris and Turner's raiders first showed up.

“Why?” he asked quietly.

Her determination abruptly exploded into anger, but not necessarily at him. “Because I lost everything! Razor's thugs killed my dad and nearly raped me. My mom died of starvation. My best friend's dad was blown apart by raiders, and the man who took me in and has been almost a second father lost his leg and became a cripple. The world's become nothing but one person after another coming to take what little we have, and I'm not going to let them take anything else from me.”

Trev looked at her in a new light. He'd heard of some of what she'd been through, and had been there to see how she handled her mother's death, but even so hadn't really appreciated the depth of her feelings. But even knowing all that, could he really justify letting her volunteer? On the other hand, if she was this determined could he justify refusing her?

As if sensing he was wavering the young woman straightened to attention, shifting her rifle case on her back. “I don't know if America's got a chance, but every time we make the blockheads pay for killing American citizens and stealing their homes that chance gets better. When I come back to Aspen Hill I want to do it knowing that nobody else is going to be coming for us ever again. So, can I join you?”

“Maybe. Just one thing.” Trev nodded at her shotgun. “You said you could barely hold a gun, but I assume you've practiced since then. Show me.”

Alice's fierceness vanished into an eager grin, and she quickly stepped up to the firing stand and unslung her case, removed the shotgun, then quickly assumed a firing stance and pumped a shell into the chamber. Trev let her fire off a couple shots, watching to see how she handled the recoil. The answer was not great, considering her small frame. But she properly couched the butt against her shoulder and was obviously used to how it kicked, so she recovered quickly.

Trev had her unload the weapon and put it away, then nodded to her. “Go find Matt and let him know you want to volunteer and I've agreed to let you join my squad.” He quickly continued as her grin widened. “I've got to warn you that if he says no I'll follow his lead, but I'm guessing he'll agree.”

“Thanks!” she said, turning and starting to run off down the road towards town.

“After you talk to Matt you'll need to head to the town storehouse and get your rifle and pistol!” he called after her. “And since you didn't take part in today's training you'll need to have someone work through the basics with you. If you need I c-”

“I'll ask Rick or Pete to give me a hand!” she called over her shoulder, barely slowing. Maybe she was afraid he'd change his mind if she stuck around.

Trev watched her go, wondering if he'd made a mistake.

At Matt's urging the two dozen Aspen Hill volunteers set out early in the morning, cramming into one of the captured raider trucks with as many supplies packed around them as the town could spare, particularly their precious weapons and ammunition. As well as the body armor, night vision goggles, and the other gear that had made the raiders such dangerous enemies and would hopefully keep them alive in the coming fight.

They packed lightly where food was concerned, and for good reason. Williams had pointed them south to Huntington as the location where recruits from the area were gathering up. The corporal wasn't sure what they'd be doing exactly, but he thought it was pretty likely that the volunteers would be assigned to help cover all the roads leading up into the mountains between Huntington and Aspen Hill.

They'd be more familiar with the area, for one thing. He also assumed that there'd be less fighting along that stretch of land since the Chinese forces were to the west, on the other side of the mountains, and the Russian forces were to the east an entire state away,
and
on the other side of the Colorado Rockies.

Perfect duty for civilian volunteers, providing a potentially vital service but one that was low priority. It also meant they'd probably have plenty of opportunities to hunt the hills, fish Huntington Creek, and forage, relieving the burden of needing to feed them from both the military and the town. They might even bag more than they needed that they could send along to Lassiter's soldiers.

But that was just the corporal's guess, speaking as a fairly low man on the totem pole. For all they knew the military could hustle them right to the forward defenses, or even send them off to face the blockheads. Now that they'd volunteered their lives were in the hands of General Lassiter; Matt just hoped the man would use them wisely.

He'd spent the last week making what preparations he could, transferring his responsibilities in town to Lewis and Chauncey and his work in the garden to his parents and April's family. He also took plenty of time saying his goodbyes, particularly to a pregnant wife that was trying to be brave for his sake.

Matt also spent time mentally preparing himself for what was to come. As much as that was even possible. Responsibility for the volunteers was on his shoulders in a way he hadn't experienced before, not even while leading the defenders when the raiders attacked. Back then he'd had the Mayor and other leaders in the town to seek advice from and make their own decisions.

Of course, the military would almost certainly be putting someone in charge of him and his people. Matt wasn't sure if that lessened or increased the weight on his shoulders. He only hoped he could bring as many of his friends home as possible.

In a way it was almost a shock to reach Huntington only a bit more than a half hour after leaving, taking small roads around Carbonville and Price just to be safe, all the way to Highway 10, then following it the rest of the way to the small town on the junction between 10 and Highway 31.