Chapter Four

As an alliance of Christian Dominionist militias invade Dallas, Manny is forced to get himself, and his journalist, to safety.

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:02):
Chapter four, Manny. Manny woke up needing to piss, and
also to the sound of explosions. You couldn't quite tell
which was more to blame for his sudden, unwelcome consciousness.
His lizard brain woke up and shouted, get the funk
out of their you asshole. A second later, Manny got
to his feet, grabbed his gear bag, and looked around

(00:22):
for the journalist. Reggie still seemed asleep, but he stirred
just as Manny started towards him, and another thundering boom
shook the world. Christ, who's that, Reggie asked, in a
slurred voice heavy with sleep. Mortars. Manny explained, I think
I heard rockets too. Shit, The brit Ex sailed sharply.
Is this bad? Many shrugged. Those sound like small mortars,

(00:46):
very short range, but we're miles behind the line. So
a deafening explosion shook the world. It was loud enough
that Manny didn't even properly hear it. He felt it
hard and hot against his skin. The sheer, impo sucible
noise of it pulled the air from his lungs and
the thoughts from his head. The next instant, he was
flat on the ground. His eyes darted left and right

(01:07):
for cover. He spotted something, an artificial cave built into
a corner of the main room, perhaps a hundred feet away.
It looked like some sort of shrine or temple. Many
could see the walls were thick with melted candles, colorful
drawings in a variety of brass cymbals. He grabbed Reggie
by the shoulder and shook hard. The other man jerked,
locked eyes with Manny and mouthed what the fixture pointed

(01:28):
towards the shrine, pulled himself up and sprinted towards it.
The journalists followed, and soon both men were huddled in
the little substructure, staring out at the devastation that had
overtaken the Richardson Autonomous Project. They could see two holes
in the roof. The huge circular kitchen bar looked like
it had taken a direct hit. Beer spurted from shattered taps,
and many could see what looked like blood staining the

(01:49):
white oak of the bar. Counter Flames licked somewhere off
in the distance on the other side of the vast structure.
The air smelled of smoke and burning grass. More blasts
sound it in the distance, including a few that were
just too loud to be mortar fire. Now that he focused,
Manny could also hear the chatter of machine guns. It
was distant, but not nearly as distant as it should

(02:10):
have been. Many dug into his pocket, found where the
deck was clipped inside, and thumbed the power button. Static
flashed at the edge of his vision as his implants
started up. He nearly always ran in minimalist mode, which
gave him access to his maps and his communications sweet
and nothing else. He selected his address book and sub
vocalized his cousin's name, Alejandro. It dialed and dialed and dialed. Amen.

(02:35):
Reggie said, his voice oddly, calm, I think we might
need to get the funk out of here. Reggie looked
over at the bride and then towards the flames. They
were bigger now and closer. He could see a dozen
or so men and women fighting the fire with hoses
and extinguishers. They didn't seem to be winning. Elsewhere, he
saw small groups breaking cover to run for the exits.
The sound of alarm bells echoed across the big structure.

(02:57):
Alejandro hadn't responded, which meant he was fighting or dead
either way, Manny and Reggie would need to find their
own ride out of this mess. It had been a
while since the last mortar had landed on the complex,
and the small arms fire still sounded distant. This seemed
as good a time to make a break for it
as they were likely to get, so they ran until
they hit the nearest exit doors, shoved them open, and

(03:19):
staggered outside into the balmy Texas night. The asphalt parking
lot outside was filled with newly minted refugees, perhaps two
hundred of them, most carried at least to go bag.
A few had managed to drag out more. They were
ringed by a widening cordon of armed men and women,
fifty at the most. The militia clutched antique weapons, mostly
small arms, and stuck like glue to the Hescoe barriers

(03:41):
that ringed the old parking lot. Here and there, Manny
caught sight of a man with an RPG or a
light machine gun. It was a forcement for scaring off bandits.
The rockets still thudding in the distance told Manny these
men and women faced considerably more than their match. A
green blink of light caught his attention. Reggie head and
aged his lapel camera. The brit fixed him with a

(04:02):
look that said, dude, what did you expect me to do?
Most of the survivors were probably recording to their decks, too,
but Reggie's little camera could do considerably more. It scanned
the world around him in a three hundred and sixty
degree arc. It also recorded the journalist's own physical data,
his heart rate, his respiration, his adrenal levels. Everything he
saw and felt was being recorded for later consumption. The

(04:25):
brit was carving out a little slice of the war
for safer parts of the world to Binge Watch. Vehicle
started to arrive. The project's motor pool included three tracks
built to carry large groups of people in semi armored
semi safety. The commune's rapid reaction force set to work,
loading children and wounded up first. There was no panic,
no hysteria, just an exhausted efficiency that spoke of long practice.

(04:49):
Manny saw glassy eyes and clenched jaws, but very little
open rage. They're so very used to it, he realized.
Scattered throughout the crowd, Manny saw people whose bodies rattled
with the sort of palsied shock that artillery leaves in
its wake. Reggie just stared out at them, mouth slack.
His left knee twitched, the foot below it pumped against

(05:09):
the ground. Many guessed he was caught between the urge
to step out and talk to some of them and
the voice of sanity in the back of his head
that knew how tone deaf that would be. Manny put
a hand on the journalist's shoulder. We need to get
the funk out of here, and our ride is off calms,
he said. I'm going to suggest we hitch with the
R A P where their guests. They'll make room for us,
but if you'd rather drag us, I know a safe

(05:31):
neighborhood about six miles into the city. We could probably
hire a ride there. It looks like they're a bit
short of room, as is said the brit Those tracks
can't hold more than people each. Many smiled a little
twenty four, But that's just if you're attached to things
like seats. Ten minutes later, Reggie and Manny clung to
the hood of the track as it barreled down the

(05:53):
broken streets of Ciadad de Muerta, bound for a staging
area in deep Ellum. The fighting sounded much closer by
the time they left, Manny guessed the small arms fire
couldn't be more than a couple of blocks away. He
and the journalist held on with white knuckles and tried
not to linger long on what would happen if they
lost their grip. The martyrs had passed the command post
the bridge, shouted in sudden realization, his voice strained to

(06:16):
be audible over the roar of the engines. Holy shit,
they have to be right. Many thought about the geography
for a moment. It was possible that the martyrs had
only broken through in a few chunks of the line,
but that would mean to Shaun and the others were
alive and surrounded or fleeing. Those were the best case scenarios.
I think we might be fucked, Manny said, stunned by

(06:36):
the realization. For the last year, Major Clark had been
his most reliable source in the SDF. That post had
seemed immovable, impregnable for its significance in his little chunk
of the world. The tracks slowed to a stop. Parked
facing them were too smaller armored SDF tracks with swiveling
cannons on their roofs. Soldiers scurried around them. They pulled

(06:56):
sections of thin, frosted gray still glass barricades off the
vehicles and started setting them up to form a new
defensive line. Many watched two militia women wrestle with a
large olive green case covered in boxy cyrillic script. They
pried it open, and Manny saw a huge metal tube
and what looked like a lot of antique optical equipment.
It was probably an old wire guided missile launcher, something

(07:18):
that had been antique before the revolution. He'd never seen
the stf use anything that old. They had drones half
this size that carried even more firepower, had them yesterday,
at least, he thought. The track slowed to a cautious
stop and honked. Manny glanced back at the driver. She
had her hands in the air in a universal please
don't shoot us gesture. Two of the soldiers peeled off

(07:40):
from their efforts and approached, weapons in hand but not aimed.
The driver opened her door and shouted something down at them.
One of the men responded and gestured vaguely downtown. Manny
couldn't make out exactly what was being said, but the
driver's face contorted in a fury that was impossible to miss.
Something's fucked Manny said to the journalist, I think we're
about to lose our ride. Look. He pointed to the

(08:02):
makeshift barricade and the dozen or so soldiers who filtered
past it and towards the track. The driver yelled and
one of the other passengers near the front started to shout.
The soldier's face remained impassive, but he put a hand
on his side arm and repeated a command Manny didn't
even need to hear. A few seconds later, a soldier
with a megaphone arrived and addressed Manny, Reggie and the
new refugees citizens. Your vehicle has been requisition for medical

(08:26):
use by the SDF. Please dismount on a wordly fashion.
Injured in pregnant individuals may stay aboard. The man repeated
the order, this time in Spanish. Reggie's jaw clinched man
he could see fear in his eyes, but the other
man just nodded and started to climb down off the track.
Manny did the same. Not all of the tracks passengers
were as compliant. There was a lot of shouting and

(08:48):
even a few shoving matches between the militiamen and the passengers,
but in the end, the SDF got their way. Manny
gathered fairly quickly that they planned to send the civilians
a mile or so back to a holding area behind
in the new line. That was the last fucking place
in the world he wanted to be, so he approached
the officer who had been arguing with their driver. The
man had no rank in signiya on his uniform, but

(09:10):
that wasn't unusual for militia. His fatigues were old U
S Army issue. His arm band identified him as part
of the Citizens Front. Manny found that odd Most of
the militia at this barricade were with Raza Front or
the p p A. This much intermixing wasn't normal. It
pointed to a lot of casualties among the stf DI
scope Signor. Manny started, Chico, no ur remismo. I don't

(09:32):
have time to debate, no Signor. My cousin Alejandro was
with Citizens Front ninth Battalion. He was our ride. We
were taking this journalist. Manny jerked his head towards Reggie,
who stood a few feetback, and we got caught up
in the attack. The officer nodded, then grunted. Manny studied
his face for a moment. The man was middle aged,
with a weak chin and enough extra meat on his
bones to suggest this was his first front line duty

(09:54):
in a while. His eyes were bloodshot, his hands clenched,
his attitude softened a bit at Alejandro's name, Alejandro Hernandez. Yeah,
he's a good man, or was, the officer said darkly.
All our front line units were wiped out or near enough.
The whole STF has been pushed all the way back
to Sida de Muerta. If he's alive, he's a prisoner.

(10:15):
The man shook his head. Sorry, Chico, there's not much
I can do for you or your friend. We need
to get to Waco. I know there's a hospital there
that must be where you're sending the serious injuries. Right,
Dallas doesn't have anything left with a fully are the
officer nodded. These tracks are headed to the Field Hospital
in Oak Lawn, But we've got a couple of deuce
and a half sloading up at fire based. Jamenez, if

(10:36):
you can get there on your own, all radio ahead
and ask Major Peron if he's got space. I know Peron.
Manny almost shouted, I went to school with his nephew, Hector.
He couldn't stop himself from wincing as he said, if
you'd give him my name, that might help. The other
man's eye cocked up in a really motherfucker look. But
then the soldier asked, and your name is Many Sanchez.

(10:58):
He nodded. Good, then, Manny, all radio ahead. You and
your friend get to the firebase Rapido Cambrende. Many nodded
and turned to Reggie. We've got a ride, but it's
going to be a bit of a hike. It was

(11:19):
less a hike and more of a panicked jog. The
streets around them were filled with dozens of people carrying
their possessions and bags and rusted old shopping carts. Manny
had never seen Dallas this crowded. Less than a million
people still lived in the old Metroplex, but most of
them seemed to be out in the streets to watch
the world end. Sirens sounded, courtesy of the city's old
civil defense system, mixed every few seconds with the distorted

(11:42):
voice of a woman reminding them that all motor vehicle
use was prohibited. Any civilian vehicles on the road will
be assumed hostile and targeted. The road traffic was all military.
There was less of it than Manny would have hoped
to see. In the space of a few seconds, he
watched three pairs of cougar assault vehicles race up towards
the front, carrying squads of armored troopers in their open beds.

(12:03):
He also saw one convoy of five anti tank drones.
Each was the size of a four door sedan, with
two linked chain guns on a turret that scanned the
sky in fast, jerky arcs. There was a troubling amount
of dead space on the road between the two units.
By the sound of it, the fighting had only grown
more intense throughout the morning. The crack of small arms
fire had been nearly drowned out by the all consuming

(12:25):
roar of close support drones in the sky above them.
The only noises to rise above that din were the
stippling bangs of mortar fire and the pop pop popping
of cluster bombs fire. Bassiamenez was about two miles back
from the new front. It was mainly a staging area
for the st f's Autonomous Artillery Division. The a a
D was made up of men and mostly drones from

(12:46):
all the secular militia groups active in the Dallas area.
The fire base itself wasn't well fortified. The only physical
defense was a fence topped with razor wire to keep
civilians out. That wouldn't be much of a barrier for
a determined assault. Untilicup of hours ago, Yumenez had been
far enough from the front that an assault wasn't considered possible.
After an hour of mixed jogging and running, Manny and

(13:07):
Reggie took a left onto park Lane and the fire
base came into view. It had been built in the
bones of an old apartment complex. Several buildings had been
converted into offices and the rest left as barracks space.
The apartments were situated across the road from a tall,
very thin, parentheses shaped building that looked out over a
large field dotted with landing pads. The name Top Golf

(13:28):
Driving Range was still visible on the side of the building.
Several hundred militiamen were hard at work throwing up defenses. Still,
glass sheets had been set up to screen a dozen
machine gun nests. Further back, soldiers piled sandbags in front
of two howitzers. Manny and Reggie weren't the only civilians
trying to gain entrance. Fifty or so people clustered by
a checkpoint in the middle of the road, a hundred

(13:48):
yards ahead of the construction efforts. The checkpoint was new,
just a sandbag machine gun emplacement manned by six fighters
in powered body armor. They were over watched by a
pair of ancient Abrams tanks because issian on either side
of the road. The soldiers in the middle checked the
documents and let the occasional civilian through. They turned most
people back. There were a lot of shouts and violent

(14:09):
gestures on the part of the civilians. While Manny watched.
One of the guards raised their rifle up and fired
it just to the left of a screaming man's face.
He recoiled in pain and fear, clutched his ears, and
staggered away from the checkpoint. The weight was only about
ten minutes, but with the flooding artillery at their back,
each of those minutes felt like an hour. But soon
they stood face to face with one of the armored

(14:31):
militia folks. Reggie went stiff at once, his pupils the
size of dinner plates. He had never seen powered armor
up close before. Many couldn't blame the man for being unnerved.
The reflective, bug eyed, blistic glass of the helmets and
humanly broad shoulder armor made the wearers look like Cronenbergie
and guerrilla mantis hybrids. The shortest armored soldier was well

(14:51):
over seven feet tall and almost as broad as two men.
Their gender was impossible to discern, but a feminine voice
leapt from the speakers. State your busin this, she said,
If you're looking for shelter, you'll have to head to
North Park Center. We don't have room for you. I'm
Emmanuel Sanchez, Major Perrone. Should have my friend and I
on your list. The woman was silent for a little while.
As she called up the list, she clucked her tongue

(15:13):
between her teeth, and the high fidelity mike in her
suit made it sound like she'd done it next to
his ear. Well, hell, there you are. Her helmeted head
bobbed at them. All right, you're in, come through quick.
You stop being my fucking problem. As soon as you're inside.
They made their way towards the actual front gate of
the fire base, passing squads of militias struggling with hescoes
and setting up firing positions behind the still glass palisade.

(15:36):
Manny and Reggie walked past it all and to the
firebases front gate. They were let in without any fuss,
which surprised Manny a bit, but he wasn't about to
question it. On the other side of the gate, they
found themselves adrift, unescorted, and surrounded by pure chaos. There
were other civilians inside the walls, huddled in small groups
around piles of backpacks. They sat wide eyed and shaking,

(15:57):
and waited for whatever deliverance the STF could provide. Soldiers
rushed through the clots of humanity in groups of two
or three. Often their arms were filled with machinery or paper,
or even crates of munitions. Everyone's eyes were wide and
full of fear. For a while, Reggie and Manny milled
around with no real aim, unable to enter any of
the buildings. Mannie found them an unclaimed place to sit

(16:18):
that looked like it would be easy for mister perun
to find, and then they just sat there. At one point,
Reggie offered him a protein bar. Mannie tried to eat it,
but three bites in he accepted that his appetite just
wasn't there. What do I do if Dallas falls? He
ran through his finances over and over again, mulling over
which European vises he could afford, and how long he'd
be able to survive in each country. I could make

(16:40):
it a year, maybe eighteen months. In Croatia, he'd been
studying German for the last year, though I can learn
Croatian any here, he tried to convince himself. He also
tried to ignore what he'd been leaving behind if he
hopped the next flight from Austin to the e U.
He didn't want to think about Oscar's wife and child,
how they'd get by without their dad's income. He didn't
want to think about his own father or the rest

(17:01):
of his family and how they'd fair if Austin fell.
You can only afford to take care of you here, Manny.
It was two hours before Major Perne found them. The
older man's skin was a deep sunsharred brown that seemed
at odds with his narrow face and thin wire glasses.
He had the look of a high school history teacher
who had been transplanted into a war zone. There was

(17:22):
something drawn and strained in his expression that spoke of
deep exhaustion. His eyes were bloodshot, and his nose was
swollen slightly red. Manny could remember seeing that same face
a bit younger and wearing a T shirt rather than
digiKam at a hundred different slumber parties. Mister Perrone was
Hector's dad. Mister Perrone made them kettle corn and let
them watch violent movies on the family projector Major Perone.

(17:45):
Manny had to remind himself he's Major Perone. The Major
favored Manny with a sad smile. Madre di dio, s Emmanuel,
It's fucking good to see you. Have you seen your
cousin Alejandro? He was with us last night, Manny said,
before the attack. Back a pained look cross the Major's face. Okay,
he nodded and forced to smile back across his lips.

(18:06):
I hear you boys need a ride, yes, Manny said,
if you could get us back to Waco. I have
enough connections in the area to get him. Manny nodded
back to the journalist. Into Austin and what is your name, sir,
Major Perrone asked the journalist as he extended his hand.
Reggie the brit responded, thank you so much for helping us.
I'm afraid there's not much I can do right now.

(18:28):
The situation is still very fluid. We've set a new
defensive line running from the Lakewood Crater to love Field.
With any luck, the martyrs have spent the bulk of
their strength and will hold them there. And if not,
Reggie asked, Mr Perrone laughed and scratched his head. Well,
if the line breaks, then I'd guess our collective booch
is screwed. We'll begin the evacuation if it gets much worse,

(18:50):
But right now we're still waiting for convoys of wounded
to get back through the lines. He gestured out at
the considerable amount of fenced off open space in the firebase.
This whole place is about to be a big, open
air hospital. He gave Reggie a severe look. I won't
tell you not to record them, because quite frankly, everyone
here is too busy to police that. But I will
ask that you showed tact in respect in your documentation,

(19:13):
of course, said Reggie, with enough sincerity that Manny believed him.
All right. He clapped Manny on the shoulder, and, after
a second's pause, embraced him. Hold on out here for
a while. I'll try to send some food in a
little bit. Manny and Reggie both thanked Major Braun and
he trundled off into the old top golf building to
do his part in coordinating the defense. So what now,

(19:35):
Reggie asked, We wait, said Manny. Three hours passed. More
and more wounded men streamed into the base, carried on
stretchers and an ambulances, and in several cases stacked like
firewood on flatbed trucks. The wounded were set up on

(19:56):
cots and piles of blankets in the grass and wherever possible,
in paved sections of the driving ranger's old parking lot. Medics,
far too few medics hustled from soldier to soldier at
a frantic, manic, unsustainable pace. For a while, there was
nothing to do but follow Reggie around while he interviewed
the wounded men and women who were stable enough to talk.
They all reported shock at the speed and ferocity of

(20:18):
the attack. Their testimonies drove home the fact that this
was something new. Tendrils of fear crept up Manny's spine.
It was all he could do to keep moving with
his journalist Amen. Reggie said, look at that fellow. He
pointed to a soldier with the top half of his
head wrapped in blood soaked bandages. Something about the man's
broad and square chin looked familiar. Isn't that one of

(20:39):
the men we met yesterday, Reggie asked the Major. Holy shit,
Reggie was right. That had to be to Shaun Clark.
Manny ran over to him. As he drew closer, it
became clear that Deshaun was an even worse shape than
he looked at a distance. His shirt had been ripped open,
exposing a muscular chest drenched in blood. Three white plugs
of hardened Seloch's wound spray visible across his abdomen. He'd

(21:01):
been shot repeatedly and had what looked like a shrapnel
wound on the side of his head. At least he's breathing,
Manny thought, Major Clark, he said, and to manny surprise,
the warrior poet stirred. Manny, sweet Jesus, is that you
d Shaun asked in a slared voice. Yes, sir, Manny said,
You know, I was damn sure you had been killed.

(21:22):
Haven't had all that much time to think about you
in the last few hours, of course, what with everyone
dying and all. I'm glad you're alive, Manny said, and
he was. Major Clark had always been good to him.
Do you know what happened to Himid and Colonel Milgram.
Manny asked, before the thought had fully crystallized in his mind.
Major Clark tried to lift his head and almost cried
out from the sheer agony of the movement. He didn't

(21:45):
speak for a few seconds. He just took deep, slow breaths,
but he started to whisper. The last sunbeam lightly falls
from the finished Sabbath on the pavement here and there
beyond it is looking down a new maid, double grave.
What man he asked, confused, Walt Actually, Major Clark laughed, winced,
and then explained, Walt, Whitman. That is sorry. Imminent death

(22:08):
makes me go for the deep cuts. So they're dead.
Then Manny asked. Major Clark coughed, and again his lips
curled up in an agonized cringe. I think, so, he
managed to say. I think everyone from the command post
is dead. I was out grabbing a smoke when they
hit us. Came out of nowhere, drone artillery, heavy stuff.
Whole place slit up like Christmas. Two booms sounded in

(22:30):
the distance. Major Clark tensed up. Reggie cringed to Manny.
The whole situation seemed almost too unreal. To justify a
reaction like that, Major Clark said, after I grabbed who
I could and tried to save as many men as
possible fighting retreat. You know, we linked up with as
many fighters as we could, but every time we'd set
a line, they'd break through. They had so many damn drones.

(22:52):
I've never seen Martyr's use drones like that. What do
you mean, Reggie asked, Well, they've always had drones, but
usually just his defensive aids for when we'd make a push.
We've got enough jammers that their hardware was no use
in our territory since none of their ship goes autonomous.
So what the journalist asked, as he drew in a
bit closer. Do you think they've changed their minds on

(23:14):
autonomous drones? Or is this something else? Major Clark rolled
his head just a little. It seemed to be the
only gesture he could make without hurting himself. I don't know, kid,
he said, Whatever is happening, it's totally new, and it's
totally fucked us. Major Clark was taken by another coughing fit.
This one lasted a long time. Blood bubbled up and
out from the corners of his mouth. Manny wanted to

(23:36):
call for a medic, but he couldn't see any of
them who weren't dealing with patients who were even worse off. Eventually,
the coughing subsided and Major Clark drifted off into unconsciousness.
They sat with him until the night fell and Mr
Perrone finally came to get them. He looked exhausted and
somehow broken. His skin was sallow and so pale it
was almost yellow. His uniform was soaked with old sweat stains,

(23:58):
and he had two lit cigarettes in his mouth. When
he found Manny and Reggie, Manny wasn't sure he'd ever
seen the older man's smoke. Mr Perrone noted his surprise.
I've taken up smoking again, he said, with a hollow
laugh since her tone, expect to survive to the end
of the week that bad, Manny asked worse. He shook
his head and then seemed to notice the Major Is

(24:19):
that d Shawn Clark? Yes, Sir, Manny said, is he?
He's alive and he seems to be stable for now.
Major Perrone looked relieved. That's one spot a mercy. Then
hopefully we'll get him out in time. On that note,
I've confirmed that We've got a convoy of wounded heading
out tomorrow a m As soon as our scouts clear
the root. You'll both have a seat in that convoy.

(24:40):
Thank you so much, sir, Reggie started, Mr Perrone cut
him off. It's no problem, son, do your job and
tell people what's happened here. What are you going to do,
Sir Manny asked? Mr Perrone looked into his eyes. He'd
always had an intense stare. His edge had been evident,
even when he'd been driving the boys to soccer practice
or taking them out for pizza. Now his eyes bored

(25:02):
into Manny's heart so deeply that the fixer finally understood
what that phrase meant. I'm going to die here, Emmanuel,
he said, I'm going to die here like your cousin
Alajandro died here, because it's the only thing I can
do that might protect our home. Manny felt an intense
urge to look away, to cast his eyes down, but
he didn't. He held mister Perrone's gaze and braced himself

(25:23):
for what came next. What about you, mister Perrone asked,
What will you do if they reach Austin? Wait? Is
that on the bloody table? Reggie interrupted. Mr Perrone paused
for a moment and considered his words. I don't know,
he said, No one does. But the martyrs just broke
through it Lakewood. We won't hold Dallas for another day.

(25:44):
He pulled Manny into a hug and kissed him on
the cheek. When he pulled back, he kept his hands
on Manny's shoulders. I've always been proud of you, Immanuel.
I think that what you do here, he nodded to Reggie,
has value. But there are times when our homelands require
more of us. What are you prepared to give for Austin?
Manny clinched his jaw. I planned to be on a
plane out of here in the next twelve hours, if possible.

(26:06):
But I don't know, sir, is all he said. It
was hard to meet mister Perrone's eyes. When he did,
he was sure the older man saw the guilt in them.
Mr Perrone didn't say anything, though, He just led Manny
and Reggie over to where the convoy was assembling and
slipped them a pair of m R. E's and some
bottled water. The best I can do, he said, apologetically.

(26:28):
He left them at the disembarkation point Manny's last clear
sight of the man who had helped raise him was
of his slumped, sweat stained shoulders trudging back to the
firebase's command center. They sat there for hours, neither of
them talked much. One by one, the wounded men were
loaded carefully into the assortment of old half tracks, busses,
and trailers that made up the convoy. Once they were seated,

(26:50):
there was another two hours of white time before the
convoy got moving. Both Reggie and Manny found time to nap,
but neither of them were really arrested when the dawn
broke and the convoy set forward it. By the time
the ramshackle assortment of trucks and broken soldiers started on
its way to Waco, the sound of mortar fire was
so constant it had almost become white noise. The small

(27:10):
arms fire wasn't as loud, but it was also clearly
much closer than it had been when they'd arrived at
fire bas umenz. As the convoy rolled out onto the
old access road that led eventually to Waco, a flight
of drones roared past them and towards the new front line.
Those aren't SDF drones, are they, Reggie asked, without actually
looking at Manny. His gaze was focused on the two

(27:31):
medics in the back of the truck as they moved
from soldier to soldier. No, Manny confirmed those are Austin
Civil Defense Forces. The brit whistled through his teeth. So
you think this means the sdf ran through their drones
could be as all, Manny said. The track and its
escort lumbered through the cracked remnants of the old highway system.

(27:52):
The accumulated hangers on civilian vehicles piled high with refugees.
As they rolled along. The civilians stayed back, leary the
convoy's guns, but trusting in its presence for protection. By
the time the convoy finally left the Dallas Sprawl, their
tails stretched back to the horizon line. Manny had seen
similar sights before when his parents had fled the DFW

(28:13):
area for Austin's relative safety. Here and there on and
in the cars behind them, he saw small figures that
had to be children, kids like he'd been fleeing the
same city he'd had to flee for the same basic reason.
Manny's stand out memory from that time wasn't the terror
of seeing a mortar land for the first time. Or
anything about their flight out of the city at all.

(28:35):
It was from the next day at their first refugee camp,
when he saw his father in line for their daily
ration of food. A journalist had passed by, taking the
sort of pictures Reggie's lapel camera now snapped mindlessly. Manny's
dad had been crying, ashamed that he'd needed charity, and
even more ashamed to have fled the family home. More

(28:55):
than anything about that time, Manny remembered how his father
had hidden his face from the fataeographer. The gesture had
told Manny more about their new status in the world
than anything an adult had actually said. Behind him now
were cars full of mothers and fathers and children who
were about to have their own searing experiences. Manny hated
how familiar this felt to him. He hated that for

(29:16):
Reggie it counted as the adventure of a lifetime. Many
looked at the journalist at the awe and innocent excitement
in his eyes, and tried to imagine Reggie's life back home.
None of the individual pieces of that life would be
new to Manny. His world also had bars and parties
and apartment leases and term papers. The thing he couldn't
imagine was the sense of security, living life without the

(29:40):
constant threat of war. He'd been so close to securing
that life for himself if they only waited six months.
But they hadn't, and now Manny had a choice to
make stand and fight or run with what he had
and hoped for the best. Manny leaned back as much
as his precarious seat allowed and stared out the burning

(30:00):
city that had once been Dallas. Goddamn, he muttered to himself.
I gotta get the funk out of Texas. Hey, everybody,
Robert Evans here. I hope you just enjoyed the chapter
you listen to. I hope you enjoyed the chapters to come.
If you would like to read the text version of
this book either on the web or on your e

(30:21):
reader as an e pub you can find those on
the website a t r book dot com. So again,
the free ad free e pub and the text of
every chapter will be on a t R book dot com.
Thanks