“Ten-four, General. Hang on.”
Ben winked at Rani. “Didn’t I tell you to think positively?”
“I got a bad feelin’ ’bout all this, Jake,” Texas Red said. “I think we’re damned if we do, and damned if we don’t. Know what I mean?”
Jake felt the same way. But before he could reply, one of his men raced to his side, sliding behind the old building.
“We’re bein’ watched, Jake!” he panted. “I’ve caught sunlight off field glasses to the northeast.” He pointed.
The three leaders (West was behind the lines, sitting it out by his van) looked. Jake grunted as he caught the glint of light off lenses.
“It don’t make no difference,” Cowboy Vic said. “There can’t be no more of them than there is of us. Right, Jake?”
Jake looked at the screwball. It was then he realized just how stupid the man appeared. He looked like a cross between Tom Mix, Gorgeous George, and the Rhinestone Cowboy. Fuckin’ idiot!
“And I suppose you have a plan?” Jake said.
Before Vic could reply, Texas Red said, “I do. Get the hell out of here. We won’t be losin’ no face by doin’ it. Not with Raines’ Rebels breathin’ down our necks.”
Jake nixed that. “Then, go, goddamnit. If you and your boys ain’t got the balls for this, take off. And to hell with you!”
“You can count on me, Big Jake,” Cowboy Vic said.
“Wonderful,” Jake muttered.
“Think about it, Jake,” Texas Red said, not taking umbrage at Jake’s anger. “Ben Raines ain’t gonna stay holed up in there forever. Soon as his Rebs come—and they ain’t far away—he’ll be sprung. He’ll stick around for awhile, then he’ll hit the trail again. All we got to do is set up outposts on the three roads leading out of this place, then ambush the son of a bitch.”
Jake looked at the man. “For a person that’s redheaded and ugly to boot, you got some sense. That there’s a right nice plan. Let’s do ’er. Tell the boys to fall back.”
“Damn, Ben!” Jordy called from the upstairs. “They’s pullin’ out. Shit!”
Rani laughed. “That’s quite a little tiger you have there, Ben.”
“There’s no back-up in him, that’s for sure.” Ben lifted his binoculars and watched the outlaws begin their bugout.
T. S. Eliot came to Ben’s mind. He muttered, “Not with a bang but with a whimper.”
“Did you say something, Ben?” Rani asked.
“A cold coming we had of it, just the worst time of the year.”
“What?”
Ben shook his head. “Nothing. Just recalling some verse from a long time ago.”
Ben again lifted his binoculars, watching the outlaws haul their asses. “Tell the kids to stand down, Rani. I think it’s over.”
But it was not over. Not quite. Crouching in one of the old crumbling buildings, Crazy Cowboy Vic waited, slobber dribbling down his chin. He had refused to leave with the others. He was gonna get Ben Raines, and have all of them young cunts for hisself. And when that was done, he’d be king of the west. That’s what Big Jake and Texas Red promised him when he said he was staying behind. He didn’t want them boys; just the girls. He’d kill them boys.
He shifted positions carefully and lifted his rifle.
“You know Raines is gonna put it together, don’t you?” Red asked Jake. “I mean, he’s gonna know we set Cowboy Vic up to kill that kid Raines has been traveling with.”
“Yeah,” Jake grinned. “I know it. And that’s gonna make Raines so goddamn mad he’ll come buckin’ and a-snortin’ after us, revenge in his eyes. That’s what I want him to do.”
“I gotta hand it to you, Jake. You got some smarts.”
“Thank you,” Jake said modestly.
For the fifteenth time Ben scanned the old town through binoculars. For the fifteenth time he saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Still, he hesitated in letting the kids out of the house.
He had kicked over the pile of bodies around the porch, clearing the way. He could see the dust from the approaching Rebels, but something bothered him.
He lowered his binoculars when Rani came to his side.
“I don’t want to stay here, Ben,” she said. “I want to go with you when you leave. Can we send the kids back to your base camp?”
“Sure. I think that would be best. Colonel Gray and his wild bunch will be here by midnight. I’ll make arrangements with him.”
“That surprised your people when you called in and told them the outlaws had pulled out, didn’t it?”
“Not really, Rani. My people have a reputation for being rough in any kind of a fight. But this isn’t over. The outlaws might have monitored our radio transmissions; they might have had scouts out who saw the Rebels coming in. Either way, they found themselves in a no-win situation and pulled out. But it isn’t over.”
Captain Nolan and his platoon pulled in. “Jesus, General,” the captain said, eyeballing all the bodies, “you folks did a number on them, didn’t you?”
Ben gave a sergeant the map of the town, showing where the camouflaged open mine shafts were located, the trip wires, and the punji pits. The sergeant sent a team out to neutralize the traps.
The bodies of the outlaws were dumped down a mine shaft and the opening sealed.
The harnesses and the twin M-16’s were taken down and stored in the back of a truck.
And the kids were finally freed from the old house overlooking the ghost town.
“General!” Captain Nolan’s radio operator called. “Colonel Gray just called in. He’s about two hours away.”
“Thank you,” Ben said. Ben longed for a hot tub of water and a long soak. The smell of gunpowder, sweat, and death clung to them all.
Jordy stood by the stone fence around the old house.
“A damn gutsy bunch of kids, General,” Captain Nolan said.
“They are that,” Ben agreed.
Jordy thought he detected some movement in one of the old broken-down buildings in town. He looked again. Nothing. Must have been mistaken, he thought.
“You kids don’t leave the immediate area,” Ben cautioned them.
There it was again! Jordy thought, looking at the old building. He turned around. “Ben!” he called.
“Yes, son?”
A rifle cracked. Jordy was flung forward, a hole in his chest.
Roaring with rage, Ben ran to the boy’s side and knelt down in the gathering blood. The bullet had cut the spine, angled off, and exited out through a lung. Pink froth bubbled from the boy’s mouth.
“Take that son of a bitch alive!” Ben growled at Captain Nolan.
“Ben?” Jordy said.
“I’m right here, son.”
“What’s my name, Ben?”
“Jordy Raines.” Ben could not keep the tears from spilling out of his eyes.
“Told you I didn’t have very long to go, didn’t I, Ben?”
“Yes, you did, boy.”
“But I done good, didn’t I, Ben?”
“You done good, son.”
“It don’t hurt none, Ben. I’m just cold.”
The boy closed his eyes and died.
25
Ben covered the boy with his jacket. He stood up, looking down at the boy he had grown to love in just a short time. Waves of emotions splashed over him.
Ben took several deep breaths, calming himself. He turned to Captain Nolan. “Wrap the boy carefully, Captain. Assign a burial detail. There is a Bible in my truck. Have someone get it for me.” His words were tiny bits of chipped ice flying from his inner soul, steaming the air.
“Yes, sir. What name goes on the marker?”
“Jordy Raines. Age ten.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ben looked toward the knot of Rebels gathered around a small crumbling building. They had captured Cowboy Vic.
No one spoke; no one made any attempt to stop Ben as he walked to the house, got his Thompson, and walked down to the building. He stopp
ed in front of Cowboy Vic.
“Got the little son of a bitch, didn’t I?” Cowboy Vic yelled. “Just like Jake and Texas Red tole me to do.” Slobber ran in ropy rivers from both sides of his mouth. “I knowed what they was up to all the time, Raines. Kill the kid, says they. Be shore to kill the kid travelin’ with Raines. Well, I done ’er.” He laughed in Ben’s face.
Ben resisted an almost-overpowering urge to smash the butt of the Thompson into the man’s face. He turned his head and looked at the headframe of the structure that supported the old cable system that operated the cages into the mines.
“Hang him from that!” Ben said, pointing. “Now!”
Ben read a passage from the Bible, and then remembered a passage from Pilgrim’s Way. He thought it appropriate.
“Our roll of honor is long, but it holds no nobler figure. He will stand to those of us who are left as an incarnation of the spirit of the land he loved. He loved his youth, and his youth has become eternal.”
Ben sat alone for a time on the stone fence around the house. He watched as Colonel Gray’s company of Gray’s Scouts pulled in. But he did not leave his place on the fence.
Captain Nolan brought the colonel up to date.
“Filthy swine,” Dan Gray said. “To cold-bloodedly kill a child.” His eyes found the dangling figure of Cowboy Vic. “Is that the bugger?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The general will be wanting revenge,” Dan said. “And I don’t blame him. I have to find out what’s going on.”
Dan walked to Ben’s side.
“General.”
“Dan. How’s it going?”
“Very well, sir. Do I stand the men down for a rest?”
“Yes. Tell them to pitch their tents and relax. We’ll be here for a couple of days.”
Dan knew what was next, but he had to ask. “And then, sir?”
“We are going on a search-and-destroy mission, Dan. We are going to deal with the enemy with extreme prejudice.”
“We track down the warlords and outlaws and kill all the fuckers.”
“Precisely.”
BOOK THREE
Whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster.
Poe
26
“Your plan ain’t workin’ for shit!” Jake told Texas Red. He had shaken him out of a deep sleep and jerked him out of the blankets.
“Huh?” Red asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“All them damned Rebels is still in the town. Scouts report they’re eating and sleeping and resting. They’re checking equipment and getting ready to move out.”
“Well, goddamn! That’s what we wanted, wasn’t it?”
“Raines is leading them. Two squads of Rebs pulled out yesterday with the kids. They’re headin’ back east. Boy, we got big troubles.”
“Maybe,” Red said, pulling on his boots. “What about Cowboy Vic?”
Jake snorted derisively. “Raines hung the bastard from a tower. He’s still hangin’ there.”
“Way I see this thing, Jake, we ain’t got but one option left us.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
Texas Red met the man’s hard look. “Run!”
Ben lingered for a moment in the cold dawn, his eyes on the cross above Jordy’s grave. “There is nothing left to say, Jordy. Nothing at all.”
He turned away from the grave.
“Colonel Gray?”
“Sir!”
“Are your forward teams in position?”
“Yes, sir. Ten miles out and holding.”
“Radio contact with the team holding east with the kids?”
“Yes, sir. Making good progress and reporting no trouble.”
Ben nodded. He removed his beret and ran his fingers through graying hair. He looked at the beret and smiled. He walked to the grave of Jordy and hung the beret on the cross. “You were a good soldier, son. I never served with any better.”
Rani stood and watched Ben, tears running down her cheeks.
Colonel Dan Gray cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. “Damn dust,” he said.
Ben broke the sad spell.
“Move out!”
“Dan says Ben is calm,” Ike said to Cecil. “To use his words, ‘Too damn calm.’”
“You’ve known Ben as long as I have, Ike. You know that when Ben gets this way he’s killing mad. This campaign will be a scorched-earth policy. He’ll kill anybody who gives any type of aid to those outlaws.”
“Not only that,” Tina said, walking up. “Dad will burn the damned towns down. You remember how he was up in Missouri.”
“Only too well,” Ike said.
Cecil turned to the young woman manning the radio. “And what was Ben’s last transmission, again?”
“He said, when I gave him your message to please return to Base Camp One, quoting George Bernard Shaw, ‘Not bloody likely!”’
Tina summed up the feelings of them all. “Oh, shit! Dad is really pissed!”
“Scouts report a little town just up ahead has given sanctuary to some outlaws, General,” Dan called in on the CB. “It’s some sort of hippie place. To use a very outdated word.”
“You’re certain the ... hippies gave them sanctuary voluntarily?”
“Yes, sir. With open arms.”
“Any kids involved?” Ben asked.
“Therein lies the rub, sir.”
“Shit!” Ben said. “All right, Dan. Surround the town and we’ll play it by ear.”
“It’s not exactly a town, sir,” a scout broke in. “It’s a ... a commune.”
“Haven’t heard that word in a good many years,” Ben said.
The column was traveling north on Highway 169. What was left of a tiny village just south of Cienega Mountain had been taken over by a new generation of Love Children. Most of the “Flower Children” were about Ben’s age—at least. It was the most ludicrous sight Ben had witnessed in a long time.
A man who had to be at least sixty years old approached Ben’s truck. He was dressed in a dress.
“Is that man dressed in a dress?” Rani asked.
“Sure looks that way to me,” Ben said.
“Baby killers!” the man yelled, waving a plastic flower at Dan Gray.”
“I beg your pardon!” the Englishman said.
Another group of Love Kids appeared. Average age, mid-fifties. They were chanting as they marched. “Hell, no. We won’t go. Hell, no. We won’t go!”
“I think they have the wrong war,” Ben said.
“Ben, they’re pitiful,” Rani said.
“No,” Ben said. “They’re just middle-aged dropouts, that’s all.”
Ben got out of his truck and walked to the group of men and women. There were a few younger people mixed in, some of them with children by their side. It was the damndest mish-mash Ben had ever seen.
“What the hell is with you people?” Ben asked.
“Impeach Nixon!” a man cried. “Make love, not war.”
“Jane Fonda for President!” a woman yelled.
“You people are hiding some outlaws,” Ben roared, quieting the group of ... whatever the hell it was.
“They are under a protective shield of the Children of the Orb,” a man informed Ben. “They have renounced their evil past and wish to partake of nature’s blessings. Now take your baby killers and child rapers and destroyers of the land and leave!” The man stamped his foot on the ground.
“Folks,” Ben said, “I don’t want to hurt any of you ... citizens. Just hand over the outlaws and we’ll be on our way.”
“One, two, three, four!” a woman who had to be in her late sixties yelled. “We don’t want your fucking war!”
Dan Gray turned his back so Ben could not see him laughing.
A man wearing pink pedal pushers and a see-through blouse ran up to them. “Stop acid rain!” he screamed. He ran back into the crowd.
“Colonel Gray,” Ben called.
Wiping his eyes, his face red
from suppressed laughter, Gray turned around. “Sir!”
“Send a team into the ... commune. Find the outlaws and bring them out. Do not—repeat—do not hurt anyone of these ... people.”
“Yes, sir. Sergeant Morse, front and center.”
The sergeant ran to Gray’s side. “Sir, these people are whacko!”
“Quite right. What puzzles me is why the outlaws have left them alone for so long.”
“Shit, Colonel. They ain’t got nothing for them to steal.”
“That’s probably it. Bring the outlaws out, sergeant.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sir!” a voice called. “They’re slipping out the back way.”
“Watergate sucks!” a man yelled.
Even Ben was grinning as he got back into his truck and slipped it into gear. Rani had her face turned so Ben could not see her grin.
Composing herself, she said, “Is there a lunatic asylum close by?”
“Surely there must be. Either that or they all came from California.”
“Oh, Ben!”
It did not take the Rebels long to round up the outlaws. They caught up with them a few miles outside of the commune, heading north.
They were a sorry-looking, shifty-eyed, and scummy bunch.
“You have two choices,” Ben informed them bluntly. “Either way, you die. Tell me where Jake Campo, Texas Red, and West are hiding and what they’re up to, and you get a bullet—fast and quick. If you don’t cooperate, I take you to the next town and hang you. You have one minute to think about it.”
“Fuck you, Raines!” a burly, pus-gutted man said.
“Sergeant!” Ben said. “Take that man,” he pointed. “And tie him securely. Toss him in the back of a truck for hanging.”
“I’ll make a deal with you, Raines,” another outlaw offered.
The toughness that had enabled Ben to build a thriving Tri-States out of the ashes of total world war surfaced. “No deals. You have all heard my only offer.”
Alone in the Ashes Page 17