Danger in the Ashes

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Danger in the Ashes Page 16

by William W. Johnstone


  Holly lay on the couch. Her head felt like a gang of leprechauns was inside, banging little pots and pans.

  She kicked off the light blanket and sat up. She lay back down. “Aspirin!” she croaked.

  “On an empty stomach, doctor? That’s not good for you.”

  “Get me some aspirin, Raines! You did this to me; you take care of me.”

  “I didn’t do anything to you, Holly. You did it to yourself. And that is yet another Rebel truism.”

  She cursed under her breath. “You are the most . . . most impossible man I have ever met!”

  Ben walked into the room and opened the drapes. Silver light flooded the room and Holly closed her eyes and moaned.

  “First hangover for you?”

  “Yes, and I can assure you, it will be my last one.” She glanced at the vile-looking concoction in the glass he was holding. “What in God’s name is that?”

  “Come on, Holly. You’re no spring chicken. You know what a Bloody Mary is.” He laid two aspirin on the coffee table and set the drink down.

  She took the aspirin and chased them down with the mixture. Then, quite unladylike, she belched.

  “Of course, I know what a Bloody Mary is. I’ve just never had one. What’s really in these things? And what do you mean, I’m no spring chicken?”

  Ben grinned at her. “Well, in that particular drink . . . home-canned tomato juice, homemade hot sauce, salt, and a dash of the hair of the dog that bit you.”

  She smiled thinly and then confessed, “It isn’t bad. I’ll try a little breakfast, Ben. And for your information, I’m thirty.”

  “Like I said, no spring chicken.”

  “Where’s the bathroom? Do you have a spare toothbrush . . . and some real toothpaste?”

  “Right down that hall. And yes, real toothpaste. Homemade, of course.”

  She stood up and swayed for a moment. “You people really have one hell of an organization, don’t you?”

  “We try to live as normally as possible, Holly. I’ve got over a hundred people who don’t do anything except research; another hundred who put that research into reality. I like to think that we bring some light into a postwar darkness.”

  “All right, Ben,” she said very softly.

  “All right, what, Holly?”

  “I’ll join the Rebels.”

  Ike and Tina and the Rebels entered the city of Knoxville on Interstate 40, exiting off into the city proper. No one had to tell them the Night People were here; the smell of death lingered over everything.

  “Where to start,” Ike muttered, looking around him at the ruins of the city.

  “Let’s try the university complex,” Tina suggested.

  “Yeah, we might learn something there.”

  Collective groans followed his statement. Ike did his best to look hurt. It didn’t quite come off.

  As they drove, weapons at the ready, all could see piles of human bones scattered about, some of them very fresh, scraps of meat still hanging to the bones.

  Ike halted the army convoy and got out, inspecting the piles of bones. He shook his head and climbed back into his Jeep, telling his driver, “Men, women, and children.” His face was hard and grim as he picked up the mic. “No mercy and no prisoners, people. Kill them all as we find them.”

  They drove slowly into the university complex.

  The stench of unwashed bodies was almost overpowering. Ike shook his head and told his driver to lead the convoy out, back to the Interstate.

  His radio crackled. Tina’s voice. “What’s wrong, Ike?”

  “We’re going to have to put it off, Tina. We’re not equipped to cope with the health problem.”

  “I agree.” Dr. Ling’s voice was added. “God alone knows how many diseases we might encounter in here. We’re not properly suited for this type of situation. Ike? Get in touch with General Raines. Didn’t you tell me he told you that Buddy was cleaning out Night People to the west?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Ask him to break if off, and have him advice Dr. Chase of this decision.”

  “Ten-four, Doc.” When they were back on the Interstate, Ike halted the convoy and walked to the communications van. “Get Base Camp One on the horn.”

  Ben was not yet in his offices, but Cecil was.

  “All right, Ike. I agree with Ling. I’m sure Ben will agree. Stay out of the cities and avoid contact with the Night People. Check back in when you make camp this evening.”

  Ike looked at Major Broadhurst. The major said, “We may be forced to destroy the cities, Ike.”

  “That thought has occurred to me, Tom. But I doubt that Ben will go along with it. I’d consider the use of poison gas, but damnit, we don’t know how many innocent people might be held in the cities. I think, ol’ buddy, we’re going to have to do it house to house.”

  Tina had joined the men. “How did there get to be so many of them without our discovering it?”

  “Well, Tina, they’ve had almost fifteen years to set this up. Hell, there might not be any major cities destroyed, with the exception of D.C. This could all be a hoax on the part of the Night People. I just don’t know.”

  Tina glanced at her map and did some quick figuring. “Only about seven hundred and fifty miles to go, Ike.”

  “With no idea of what is waiting for us after each mile,” Ike said. “Scouts out, Tina. Let’s go!”

  “I can’t go to work looking like this!” Holly bitched.

  “Call the hospital and have somebody send over some clothes.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Holly, everybody knows you spent the night here. The entire base. And you’re going to be treated a lot differently from now on. Get used to the idea.”

  “Then there is no point in my trying to say that nothing happened.”

  “Not a bit.”

  She walked to the window and stared out. The base was up and working. She turned to face him. “Well, if that’s the case, I might as well just get my things and move in!”

  “That wouldn’t hurt my feelings.”

  “Don’t you ever give me another damn drink of that homemade crap, Ben Raines!”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The field phone rang. Ben picked it up and listened for a moment. “I’ll be right there.”

  He turned to Holly. “Come on, I’ll drop you off at the hospital and you can change. I want you with me on this one.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Tell you on the way. We just scored a small, bloodless victory over Hiram and his crew.”

  She watched as Ben struggled into his jump boots and laced them up.

  Finally she said, “Stupid!”

  “They feel good,” he lied.

  “Uh-huh.”

  He waited at the hospital while she showered and changed. She dressed in jeans, but with a white smock over her casual wear, and climbed into the Jeep.

  They drove to a holding area that had been set up on the football field of the local high school.

  “What in the world? . . .” Holly muttered, upon sighting the women from the Stanford Community.

  “Our newest converts to the Rebel Army, my dear. And you can bet they have left behind a lot of pissed-off husbands.”

  “Now I recognize some of them from the hospital. Yes, I gave several of them physicals.”

  Ben climbed out of the Jeep and walked toward the ladies. They ranged in age from fifteen to thirty, most of them, he guessed, in their twenties.

  “Ladies,” he greeted them. “I understand from Captain Gorzalka that you want to join us. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir!” one young woman spoke up the loudest.

  “And what’s your name?”

  “Jenny Sue, sir.” Then she proceeded to introduce every woman in the ranks.

  “Only a few of these had to be deloused,” Holly whispered to him.

  “That’s gratifying to learn.” He returned the whisper. He watched as Cecil drove up and go
t out, walking over to join them.

  “What the hell! . . .” Cecil whispered. “Is that who I think it is?”

  “’Deed it is, my friend.” Raising his voice, Ben said, “This gentleman, ladies, is General Cecil Jefferys. Do any of you have any objections to taking orders from a black person?”

  “No, sir!” the group shouted.

  “Amazing,” Cecil muttered. “Are you sure they came from the Stanford Community, Ben?”

  “Slipped across the bayou last night.”

  “All right, ladies. If you will follow that sergeant right there,” Ben pointed, “she will take you to be outfitted.”

  “General, sir,” Jenn said. “Can I ax a question, please?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Can we get to see our kids sometimes?”

  “Of course you can. They’ll be returned to you just as soon as you fully understand what you’re getting into here, and have taken the oath and signed up.”

  “There ain’t but one problem with that, general.”

  “And what might that be?” Ben knew, but he wanted the ladies to say it aloud. He knew the first step toward education is for a person to admit he needs it.

  “Cain’t none of us read or write, sir.”

  “I guarantee you all that you will soon be able to read and write. And that’s a promise.”

  “’At’s good enough for us, general,” Jenny Sue told him. “Oh, and general? I feel it my bounden duty to tell you that y’all best brace for trouble. ’Cause Hiram and them ol’ boys will shore be comin’ in here after us.”

  “You left them, Jenny Sue. They are no longer a part of any of you ladies. Not unless they agree to come in and agree to obey the rules.”

  “I don’t figure that very many of them is gonna do that, sir.”

  “Then if they come in, I assure you all that we will be able to take care of any trouble they might wish to start.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said slowly. “I reckon y’all can, at that.”

  FIVE

  “How’d it go, son?” Ben asked Buddy.

  “Grim, father. But Monroe is cleaned up. Or out. Why were we recalled to camp?”

  “For medical reasons. I want you and your team to check into the hospital for some blood work. Do it right now, son.”

  “Yes, sir. Is there anything that I should know about?”

  “Oh, no. I wouldn’t hold back from any of you. This is just precautionary.”

  “What’s the word from General Ike and Tina?”

  Ben brought his son up to date on the Shark and the Big Apple Scouts, and why all felt the need for blood work.

  “Ahh! Now I see. Father, the flesh-eaters must be destroyed. If we cannot go in and face them, then how?”

  “I don’t know, son. And don’t discount us going nose-to-nose with them. Everything will depend on how your blood work turns out. So pull your team back together and get over to the hospital.”

  “Yes, sir. Do we report to Dr. Allardt, father?” There was a wicked glint in the young man’s eyes.

  “Now, how? . . .” Ben waved that off. “Get out of here!”

  Laughing, the young man left the office. Ben had not stepped out from behind his desk when Buddy entered, nor had he stood up. He didn’t want the boy to see that he was in his stocking feet. His feet were killing him!

  Cecil was haggard-looking when he came into Ben’s office. He poured a cup of coffee and sat down. “It looks like Patrice was telling the truth all the way around, Ben. Lamar says she isn’t attempting to hold anything back or to fight the drugs. He thinks she’s on the level.”

  “What’s your next move?”

  “Lamar has ordered the questioning stopped. Breaking off the drugs. We’ll let her sleep tonight and then you and I will question her tomorrow. If that’s OK?”

  “Fine with me. I’m curious to know why she never made any attempt to contact Khamsin after she linked up with us. If that’s the case.”

  “We’ll listen to the tape of the questioning tomorrow, before we talk with her. How are you feeling, Ben?”

  “I’m a little bit sore where the lead was dug out of me . . . and my fucking feet are killing me!”

  “I told you not to wear those boots today,” Holly reminded him.

  “Are you going to be one of those women who nag constantly?” Ben softened that with a smile.

  “Only when I have to be. What’s for dinner?”

  Ben grinned at her. “Whatever you like. There is the kitchen. You told me to stay off my feet, remember?”

  * * *

  Ike and his teams spent the night along a barren stretch of Interstate about fifty miles outside of Knoxville. They had not seen one living soul, other than Rebels, all that day. Tina and her Scouts had pushed on, making camp just outside of Bristol.

  At full dark, she was the first to see electric lights shining in the town.

  She radioed in to Ike.

  “What do you make of it, Tina?”

  “I don’t know. Might be a trap. You want me to check it out?”

  “Negative. Let them approach you. Double your guards tonight. I’ll push out of here at oh-three-hundred in the morning. I don’t like the feel of it. Might prove to be a bunch of good folks; but let’s check it out in strength.”

  “Ten-four.” She turned to Ham. “Double the guards, Ham. Heads up and no one leaves the camp.”

  Tina and her Scouts settled in for a very long night, looking at the lights of the unknown shining out of the darkness.

  Ike pushed his people hard the next morning, arriving at Tina’s camp just after dawn; since the Scouts had cleared the Interstate, they could push their vehicles as hard as they dared.

  “I gather there were no hostile moves against you last night, Tina?”

  “None. But we were being watched. I warned the watchers about Claymores, and they knew what I was talking about. They — whoever they might be — said they’d see us in the morning. Then they left.”

  “That doesn’t sound hostile.”

  “Not a bit.”

  “All right. Break camp and let’s push on, see what’s happening in Bristol.”

  The Rebels found, much to their delight, a clean, organized, and well-defended town. The townspeople had huge, well-cared-for gardens, had reopened a clothing factory and various other businesses, and the barter system was once more alive and well.

  A Ricky Owens was the clear and undisputed leader of the several-hundred-strong community. Upon questioning, it was discovered that Ricky was an ex-AF fighter pilot, about the same age as Ike.

  “Never seen it fail,” Ike told the man. “We’ve never come up on any safe town where the leader didn’t have some sort of military background. You folks have a great-looking place here.”

  “Thanks. We were going to invite your Forward Recon people up last night, but when I learned they were Rebels, we backed off. You folks have a reputation for shooting first and asking questions later.”

  “We’ve learned to do that over the years. Show me the town?”

  “Sure. Use your Jeep?”

  “Hop in.”

  As they toured the town, neat, clean, and secure, Ike said, “Tell me about the Night People.”

  Ricky’s face hardened. “Cannibals. Most of them — and we figure they number in the thousands — twisted, mentally and physically. They hate anyone not like them. Whatever we do, we have to do it in the daylight. At dark, we secure the town.”

  “Solely because of the Night People?”

  He shook his head. “No. ’Bout fifty miles east of here you’ve got a bunch of ’necks and trash that roam the countryside. Several hundred strong. Robbing, raping, killing. Man by the name of Finley is the warlord in charge.”

  “Khamsin’s people bothered you yet?”

  “No. But we monitor a lot of their radio chatter. There’s some pretty heavy fighting going on down in South Carolina, between the citizens and the IRA. From what we’ve been able to learn, the citizens are ho
lding their own.”

  “Maybe that will keep them off our asses for a while. How do you fuel your power generator?”

  “Coal.”

  “Thought that’s what I smelled.” Briefly, as they rode, Ike explained the outpost system they were setting up.

  “Count us in.” Ricky smiled grimly. “There aren’t many liberals left around here, Ike. Finley and his trashy-assed bunch made short work of them — those the Night People didn’t get.”

  “They approached them with the olive branch of peace?” the question was sour-sounding.

  “Oh, sure. The same old tired line. ‘Oh, you poor, poor unfortunate people. Here, let us help you.’ After the women were raped and the men buggered and tortured — depending on which faction seized the people — they were either eaten or taken for slaves.”

  “Your people made any attempts at rescue?”

  “No. I’m not about to fuck with anybody that damned stupid.”

  And Ike knew there and then, the Rebels had found a strong and loyal ally.

  * * *

  It was a tired and worn-looking Captain Patrice Dubois that faced Ben and Cecil in Ben’s office. Battered, but not beaten.

  “I should not like to go through that experience again,” she told the men.

  “Odds are, you won’t,” Ben replied. “Feel like answering a few more questions?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “No.”

  “Ask your questions.”

  “You claim to have made no contact with Khamsin during your time with the Rebels. Why is that?”

  “Because I was not sure, then, that what Khamsin was doing was right.”

  “And now?”

  “He’s wrong. Wrong in the way he’s going about things. Both of you are, but the Rebel way is a lot more just and bloodless than that of the Hot Wind.”

  “But you think we’re still wrong to a degree?”

  “Yes.”

  Cecil had not yet asked a question. But his eyes never left the woman.

  “By imposing law and order on the people?”

  “By imposing your concept of law and order, general.”

 

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