Free Wayward Soldiers by Joshua P. Simon

torch the places instead?”
    “Shh,” I said, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one else on the roof heard. I didn’t need people more upset than they already were. I bent down and lowered my voice. “That is a possibility.”
    “Then how will the people up here get out?”
    “We’ve got rope by the windows and at the platforms on the roof,” Dekar said.
    “Won’t they be easy targets climbing down a rope? And won’t that be dangerous if there’s a fire?” The worry in his voice was evident.
    I put my hand on Zadok’s shoulder. “Son, we’re all taking large risks today. You can’t have a battle without them. We just have to force the enemy into taking greater risks than us.”
    He frowned. I straightened and followed Dekar as he made his way downstairs, Zadok on my heels. He kept his head down, face lined in deep thought, no doubt mulling over my words. It seemed that with each passing moment, I continued to shatter everything he had come to believe happened in war. His fantasies of heroism had begun to fade and in their place reality found life.
    It was a heck of a thing to crush my son’s dreams. Especially when I replaced them with what many would consider nightmares.
    Across the street and up the road at the remains of the old feed store, Ava and Myra worked with several others on stuffing clothing with straw and feathers while adding long pieces of wood to support the limbs. Each team stationed at Nason’s barricades would have one decoy with them. Others would be placed at the edge of windows in the buildings still standing or possibly on the rooftops. The remaining decoys we’d position randomly throughout the downtown area.
    The decoys wouldn’t exactly strike fear in the minds of any of the raiders up close, but from a distance it was my hope that they would give the illusion that there were a lot more of us. Maybe they’d decide Denu Creek wasn’t worth the effort.
    I knew it was wishful thinking.
    I skipped checking on Ava and Myra. I’d already heard a report they were ahead of schedule. Besides, I wanted to stop in on Damaris and Ira one last time before sunrise and that hour was fast approaching.
    We made our way to where we had the children, elderly, and injured secured—those who could not contribute in the fight or even in the preparations for it. On our way, we stepped over and around several cracks in the ground, including the large fissure caused by the second eruption. The intermittent puffs of steam that smelled of rotten eggs might warn the raiders of its presence, but the holes at least narrowed the approach one could safely take into town.
    At Sivan’s request and Damaris’s protest, I placed her in charge of overseeing the most vulnerable of Denu Creek’s citizens. She was to make sure everyone stayed safe and calm. Ira’s crew had set traps and strengthened the camouflage around the shelter.
    “Where is the entrance?” Zadok asked as we neared.
    “Good question.” I looked at the pile of debris that had once been the blacksmith’s shop.
    It was one of the only places in town that still boasted a reinforced cellar we could safely use. However, the place where the cellar door resided was no longer easily visible.
    I knelt and scanned the ground, squinting in the dim light. I wished I had thought to bring a lantern or torch. I was ready to send Zadok for one or the other when I saw the first sign of what I had been looking for.
    “Step only where I step,” I said while rising into a crouch.
    Carefully, I traversed the space leading up to the rubble, moving in a zig-zag pattern that doubled back on itself twice. The journey took three times longer than it would have walking in a straight line, but it was better than the alternative of suffering through one of the traps.
    I knew Ira’s traps well enough that anything he had set would not simply slow an opponent, but likely maim or kill. Knowing this, I had issued an edict that no one was allowed within one