These were the first words she had spoken to Ben since his return to the base camp at Morriston.
“Right, Holly. If.”
The doctor turned her back to him and walked away, to stand in her office doorway, glaring at him.
“Hell has no fury, and all that,” Chase muttered, looking at Ben.
“I didn’t scorn her, Lamar.”
“You think.”
A lab technician walked up to the group, which had now grown to include Cecil and Ike and Buddy and Tina and Dan. “It’s a match. All the kids were involved. They all feasted. If that’s the right word.”
Ben nodded. “Dan, take their statements. I don’t think they’ll deny it. They’re proud of what they ate.”
“Yes, sir. And then . . . ?”
“Hang them.”
“They’re just kids!” Holly yelled at him. “The youngest is no more than fifteen. This is barbaric behavior.”
“This is a hospital, Doctor,” Chase warned her. “We have some seriously ill patients. So please lower your voice.”
Holly walked up to Ben. “If you hang those kids, I’ll resign.”
“Turn your resignation in to Doctor Chase, then. And I’ll be sorry to lose you. You’re a fine doctor.” Ben walked away.
***
The older cannibalistic offspring of the Night People were hanged, and Holly did not resign. But in the time Ben had left at Base Camp One, she avoided him whenever possible, and then spoke only when spoken to.
The younger kids were spared; they had taken no part in the killing and eating of West’s men, having been housed in separate quarters. Most of Ben’s medical personnel thought the younger kids had a chance to shake their earlier teachings. Only time would prove or disprove that theory.
On a cool early spring morning, Ben rose before dawn and stepped out of his house, a mug of coffee in his hand. He sat down on the porch and looked out at the quiet before dawn.
His dogs came to him and he petted them all. “Gonna miss you guys and gals,” he spoke softly to them. He knew they would be well taken care of by the Rebels who stayed in his house whenever he was gone. “But the old man’s got to go. I wish I could take you all with me, but that’s not possible. I’ll be back, and that’s a promise, gang.”
The dogs took turns licking the back of his hand.
Then they all ran out into the fenced yard to play.
Ben finished his coffee and went back into the house, to pack up a few last-minute things. He looked at the only picture of Jerre he had and picked it up; then he gently placed the framed picture into a drawer of the nightstand and closed it.
“You will never know how much I love you, Jerre.”
Ben buckled his flight bag and walked out into the predawn darkness.
TWENTY-THREE
Ben walked up and down and through the lines of vehicles in the staging area, noting that a great many of the Rebels who had volunteered to travel west had been part of the forces who had fought in New York City. But still there were many new faces among the eight hundred Rebels.
Ben stopped and stared at a man from Missouri who had been with him since the beginning.
“Dammit, Jimmy,” Ben said to the sergeant major. “When are you going to admit that you’re just too damned old for the field?”
“The same day you do, General,” was his reply.
Ben laughed and walked on, Beth, Corrie, Jersey, and Cooper walking with him.
He stopped at a truck and looked up at the line of Rebels seated on the bench. “Chuck, how are you feeling?”
“Good as new, General,” Chuck said with a grin.
“Good to have you back with us.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Ben completed his inspection and looked at his watch. Ten o’clock. He walked back to his new Blazer, bullet-proofed and armor-plated. Cecil and Ike and Chase were standing beside the vehicle.
Ben shook hands with all of them.
Nobody said anything. There was nothing left to say. The three men backed into the throng of silent and watching Rebels who were staying behind.
Ben climbed into the Blazer and rolled down his window. “Corrie, tell the Scouts to move out and maintain a ten-mile lead.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Order the convoy out onto the Interstate.”
The orders were given and the long column began rumbling and snorting and clanking out onto Interstate 20.
“Cooper!” Jersey spoke from the backseat. “Will you quit tailgating that damn tank. I swear to God, I only know one other person who’s a worse driver than you!”
Ben laughed as everybody in the Blazer started singing “On the Road Again.”
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1989 by William W. Johnstone
Cover design by Open Road Integrated Media
ISBN 978-1-4976-3047-5
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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New York, NY 10014
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Trapped in the Ashes Page 28