Ben sidestepped the lumbering charge and pulled his bowie knife from its sheath. With the creature’s back momentarily to him, Ben jumped up on a stump for leverage and brought the heavy blade down as hard as he could. The blade cut through skull bone and brain, driving the beast to its knees, dying. Ben worked the blade out and, using both hands, brought it down on the back of the creature’s head, decapitating it. The ugly, deformed head rolled on the grass, its eyes wide open in shocked death.
Ben wiped the blade clean on the grass and replaced it in leather. He walked to the young woman and put his arms around her.
“It’s all over now, honey,” he spoke softly, calming her, patting her on the shoulder. “It’s all right, now. You go on and find your mother.”
A young boy stood a short distance away, holding hands with his sister. Both of them were open-mouthed in awe. “Wow!” he said. “He is a god. He can’t be killed.”
“He fought a giant and beat it,” his sister said. “Just wait ‘til I tell Cindy over in Dog Company about this.”
By now, many Rebels had gathered around. They stood in silence, looking at the beast with some fear in their eyes, looking at Ben with a mixture of awe, fear, respect and reverence.
Ben looked at the silent gathering. “You see,” he told them. “Your bogey men can be killed. Just be careful, travel in pairs, and go armed. Now go back to your duties.”
The crowd broke up slowly, the men and women and kids talking quietly among themselves-all of them speaking in hushed tones about Ben.
“Maybe it is true.”
“Heard my kids talking the other day. Now I tend to agree with them.”
“A mortal could not have done that.”
“So calm about it.”
“Tell you, gods don’t get scared.”
“Kid prays to General Raines before bed. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.”
Ben heard none of it.
Ike stepped up to Ben, a funny look in his eyes. He had overheard some of the comments. “Are you all right, partner?”
“I’m fine, Ike.”
Ike looked at him. Ben’s breathing was steady, his
hands calm. Ike looked hard at the still-quivering man-beast. “I wouldn’t have fought that thing with anything less than a fifty-caliber.”
“It had to be done, Ike. Don’t make any more out of it than that.”
Ike’s returning gaze was curious mixture of humor and sadness. He wanted so badly to tell Ben that feelings about him were getting out of hand; something needed to be done about them.
But he was afraid Ben would pull out and leave for good if he did that.
Afraid! The word shocked Ike. Me? he thought. Afraid? Yes, he admitted. But it was not a physical fear-it was a fear of who would or could take Ben’s place.
Nobody, he admitted, his eyes searching Ben’s face. We’re all too tied to him.
“That was a brave thing you did,” Gale told him.
“I was there and it had to be done.” Ben stood, looking down at her. “I was lucky.”
“Maybe,” she replied cautiously. She did not tell Ben that all during her travels since the plague struck the land, she had heard of Ben Raines’s powers. At first she had dismissed the talk as the babblings of a hysterical populace seeking something to believe it, something to grasp during this time of upheaval. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“Let’s get rolling,” Ben told her.
The convoy backtracked, picking up Highway
54,
heading for Mexico, Missouri, where they would spend the night.
Ben and Gale rode in silence for a time, with Ben finally breaking the uncomfortable tension between them.
“Tell me about yourself, Gale.”
“I’m boring. I’d rather talk about you.”
Ben smiled.
“And keep your ethnic cracks to yourself.”
Ben laughed. “I wasn’t going to say a word.”
“Sure. We’re friends, right, General?”
Ben pretended to mull over that for a few seconds, pursing his lips and frowning. “Come on!”
“OK. But only if you call me Ben.”
She pretended to think seriously about that, frowning and pursing her lips.
Ben laughed at her antics.
“All right,” she said. “Tell me more about the monster you killed single-handedly, Ben.”
Ben had hoped that episode was past history. “It was a matter of necessity, Gale. It was there and I was there. Believe me, I would have preferred to have been elsewhere.”
She doubted that. The general, she had concluded, thrived on action. “But you didn’t run?”
“No. But a young girl’s life was at stake. Gale, don’t make any more out of it than it was. Too many people are doing that now, I’m afraid.”
“You’re afraid? I don’t believe you’re afraid of anything, Ben Raines.”
“I meant that as a figure of speech.”
“I know it. I still don’t believe you’re afraid of anything.”
They were again silent for a few miles, and again Ben wondered if his staying with the Rebels was the right thing, both for himself and for the people. He knew Gale had heard the stories and tales and myths and rumors about him. He wondered if she believed any of them. He hoped not.
He glanced at her. She looked so small and vulnerable. But he knew for her to have survived she had a deep well of toughness in her. He suddenly wanted to put his arm around her; but he wanted to avoid having his arm broken even more. He resisted the impulse.
The town of Mexico, Missouri, once a thriving little city of about thirteen thousand, appeared deserted. After pulling into a large motel parking area, Ben sent a team into town to check it out. He had detected that odor in the air and had ordered the rest of his contingent to stay mounted up. He was bracing himself mentally for what he hoped the recon team would not find.
Col. Dan Gray reported back to him. From the look on his face, Ben knew the news was not good.
“It’s rather grim, General,” the Englishman reported. “Looks like the beasties have used this place to winter and to breed. The stench of them is strong.”
“What do you think, Dan?”
“I think it’s very unsafe, General.”
“Very well,” Ben said. He turned to his squad leaders. “We’re pulling out. It’s about sixty miles to Hannibal. Well bivouac there.”
The column rolled and rumbled through the town. Downtown Mexico looked as though a pack of wild kids
had trashed the streets and stores. Not a window remained intact; filth was strewn everywhere. Once, Ben stopped to retrieve part of a heavy metal gas can from the street. The can appeared to have been physically ripped apart, torn open, much like a huge bear would do, with super-animal strength.
Ben silently showed the can to Gale.
For once, she had nothing to say.
Unlike Mexico, Missouri, Hannibal appeared untouched by time or mutants. There were a few rotting skeletons to be seen, but the Rebels had long months back grown accustomed to that sight.
Ben ordered the people to dismount and clean up the Holiday Inn; they would use that for a base while in the area. Ben wanted to spend several days in this part of Missouri. He wanted to search for any original manuscripts of Samuel Clemens and as many of his artifacts as possible. Ben felt that something had to be preserved-some link with the past, when times were better and life was easier. Before the bomb.
Gale mentally prepared herself for the proposition she was sure was forthcoming from Ben Raines, for his sexual antics were almost legend among the Rebels, and she had been subtly warned to prepare herself.
She went to sleep in a chair in her room, still waiting for Ben’s advances. When she awakened at one o’clock in the morning, her back hurting and her neck stiff from sleeping in the chair, she smiled ruefully at the white, almost virginal nightgown she had picked up from a store in Fulton, Missouri. The gown lay across the foot of the bed.