Member
Izurich
Spider Pickle
Richard Horthy
Little Bill
Hos
AndyC
Alby47
mattmanganonMichigan
Somewhere South of Saint Joseph
John Lennon sang the lyrics to Imagine as a line of trucks thundered along a snowy highway. A light snowfall was coming down across the Michigan landscape, and even though they were on an open highway the long trailing convoy moved at a steady thirty-five through accumulating snow. With the heat of exhaust and the pulverization of tires much if it was turning to slush, but it was only a narrow half of the south-west bound lane of I-94. Traffic along the highway had slowly died off as they got off and turned away from Saint Joseph. But since the beginning of the breakdown of the country traffic in general had steadily slowed.
The steadily falling demand for it and the rising expense of it had too affected the course of road utility work. Snow plows were vacant from the road. The interstate would be nigh impassable for the convoy then if it wasn't for the equipment up front. Far ahead of the main spread-out body of automobiles commandeered trucks swept aside the snow as they lead the vanguard towards Indiana. Light chatter on the radio reported regularly in on the vehicles progress as they cleared the way south.
Staring out through the windows of an old and repurposed police cruiser a car full of men with their assault rifles laying across their laps looked out at the winter landscape. The trees on either side stood barren and gray, their branches coated in fresh fallen snow. At odd moments one would look up, thinking he could see the dull gun-metal gray shine of Lake Michigan beyond the tree line and hills.
“Do we know what we're doing?” the driver said over John Lennon.
His compatriots turned and looked over at with silent glares.
“I take it then that's my invitation for some exposition.” he said with a forced smile. He momentarily glanced to his side and behind to his companions. The driver wore a pair of black sunglasses in front of normal glasses to guard against the light reflected by the snow. Wild dark-colored hair hung down from under a rolled up balaclava and the collar of a heavy dark colored winter coat was popped and tucked tight around his neck, his bearded chin resting over it.
“We need to relieve Chicago.” he began, “But to do that we need to hit Michigan City and South Bend, both towns are quarters for divisions of the regular army rolled in to back up the state militia to try and restore some order. White House's orders, no doubt. We're going to punch a hole in and through Gary to take the Federals in from behind. The general Michigan Militia will handle South Bend.”
“I think Amir asked if we were expecting anything from Ohio way. Is that true?”
“It's always likely. But that is being watched. But it's more likely at the moment that Chicago will be a higher priority than Detroit. But we're juggling a few things at the moment. I wouldn't be surprised if Bat'ko sends us a request for help out east.”
“Will we be dropping this then in that case?”
The driver shrugged. “Mmmaybe.” he said indifferently, “I want to see how it's going to pan out when we get there.
“I want to see if we can scare them up at the border line and how fidgety they are first.”
“Then do you think they don't know what's going on?” he was asked with a laugh.
“Fuck, I don't think anyone knows what's up.” the driver grinned, “I heard they've flown a few planes over Chicago acting like they're going to drop a bomb but then had second thoughts and turned around. I'm willing to bet they don't know if they're actually hitting civilians or not.”
“I don't imagine we'll have an issue with planes if that's the case.”
“Maybe not. But if we start shooting and turning captured guns on them then it's very likely they'll figure it out.”
“Isn't there an airbase at South Bend? If we're going to worry about airstrikes then we should hold off and coordinate with the others. That way they need to pick and choose between us.”
“I was thinking just that.” the Driver said.
“So we're seeing how jumpy they're going to be, and waiting for action to heat up in South Bend? Boss, do you have idea what's going on?”
“As I said, I don't think anyone knows what's going on.” the driver said with a defeated sigh.
Illinois
Chicago
From the top floor of an empty office building a dull glow could be seen in the distance. Something had hit something, that's all that could be gained from it. But even in the overcast snowy afternoon the black smoke that rose up over the horizon was clear and orange as distant and faded as it was. Standing with his arms cross behind his back a hooded man stood erect as he looked out that way.
A man entered through the door behind him.
“He tried.” the newcomer announced, breaking the silent din.
The hooded man turned. His face was hidden behind a skimask, his frame buried under a heavy green nylon winter coat. It was cold in the skyscraper, the AC had been turned off when the bankers and the like fled town; But everything else worked. He nodded to him.
Behind the mask his face was painted over with a heavy application of mascara, which hid the color of his skin and of his race. All that remained were a pair of sharp green eyes. “I didn't suppose he would.” he said in a heavy, yet soft voice, “But it needed to be said. We'll need to try again when they settle in out of harm's way.”
“Until then, how many months of cold and fuel oil rationing? Two, three? The rest of winter?” the other man said. Unlike his commander he went without a mask. He was a heavy set figure with a well defined frame. His cheek bones looked particularly prominent, and it squared away his face.
Bat'ko 2 shrugged. “We do what we need to do.”
Stepping by his side the new man joined up to look out the window. “I heard a artillery shell hit a warehouse at the edge of town.” he remarked with a wistful and distant voice, “It was full of chemicals and stuff, I don't know exactly what. But between the explosion and leaking containers something lit up and the fire's been burning for some four hours now.”
“I noticed. Whose stopping it?” Bat'ko asked.
“No one right now.” the other man said, “There is no one to try to stop it. At least none that can get there. They've settled themselves to try and contain the fire and let it burn itself out. They reckon it might go for a while.”
The two stood in silence as they watched the distant fires burn on. After awhile the other spoke, “Word on the Dark Horse came through.” he said, “Someone managed to call when he got to Kalamazoo.”
“What's he doing?” Bat'ko asked.
“I don't know, he was vague on the subject I hear. If anything I would say he doesn't have much of a plan and is making it up as he was going along. But he had stopped to let his men have a bite to eat.
“The Michigan militia was much more clear about their plans. General Parsaksi is pretty clear on hitting South Bend. He want to raid the military depots there and hopefully break the army's communication systems.”
“He'll need to do more than that to do it.”
“Well, way he put it he's breaking off links until he's certain their deaf and blind.”