They were sleeping outside, under a sky that seemed alive with dead worlds, millions of miles away, a black velvet background softening the luster, making the diamond glow seem much more intimate, making the two seem much more alone.
“Yes, Ms. Roth?”
“I’m glad it was you that came along, Ben-up in Missouri, I mean.”
“Aren’t you afraid people will snicker and point at us?” he kidded her. It was a game they sometimes played. “Maybe they’ll think you’re my daughter. Or maybe they’ll think you’re a wanton woman. Or maybe that I’m a dirty old man.”
“The latter I’ll agree with. Come on, Ben. Don’t joke-I’m serious.”
“OK. No more jokes.”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said today. We’re in trouble, aren’t we? I mean … what is left of the country?”
“Yes.”
“About those odds you mentioned.”
“They aren’t good, Gale. But I can’t be certain of that because I can’t get accurate intelligence readings out of the areas the IPF control. Maybe the LETTERRP’S will report back some good news.”
“Yeah, maybe. I hate to be a harbinger of doom, but have you thought about what might happen if you-we-can’t whip these people?”
“Plenty of thought. North Georgia, for one. That area looks good.”
“North Georgia? You got a thing about the South, don’t you? Is the Klan strong there?” There was open skepticism in her voice.
Ben chuckled. “You remind me of a girl I knew years ago. She-was
“Was she Jewish?” Gale interrupted.
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to hear about her.”
“We were friends, Gale, not lovers.”
“You believe if you painted wings on a pig it would fly?”
“What kind of a stupid question is that?”
“About as stupid as you telling me you were friends with a woman. Raines, you have never been just friends with any woman you thought you could screw.”
“I think I’ll go to sleep on that.”
She rudely poked him in the ribs with a finger. “So tell me about her.”
“I thought you didn’t want to hear.”
“I changed my mind already.”
“She wouldn’t visit the South because she thought she would find blazing crosses in every soybean and cotton field.”
Gale waited. “Is that it? Is that all? You got me all worked up for that?”
“I thought it amusing.”
“You would. Did she?”
“Did she what?”
“Visit the damn South?”
“How the hell do I know? I haven’t seen her in years.”
Gale was silent for a moment. “Was she pretty?”
“Positively the most beautiful woman I have ever met.”
“Raines…”
“You were asking, I believe, about north Georgia.”
“So proceed.” Definitely a touch of irritation.
“I thought we might settle there, win or lose. Right under the Chattahoochee National Forest. I’ve checked it out. It would be very difficult for anyone to dislodge a sizable force from that area. I’ve sent a team into that country; they’re in there now, nosing around.”
She stirred in his arms. “I’ll forgive you for making out with that girl.” “1 never made-his
“Then you don’t think we have much chance of beating these … the IPF?”
Ben sighed. “If all the troops we are committing, Gale-if they all were my people, trained by me, yes, we would have a chance.”
“Would you please explain that?”
“I’m not putting down Juan’s people, or Al’s people-I don’t want you to think that at all. They are all good people, I’m sure of that. But they aren’t professional fighters. A great many of the people in my command are combat veterans, Gale Every person in my command is highly trained and disciplined. They are probably the best trained people now under one command-anywhere in the world. With the possible exception of Striganov’s IPF.
“But the problem, Gale, is not with the courage or the loyalty of the troops under Juan or Al. That isn’t it at all. They just aren’t trained. And if something totally unexpected or unpredictable is thrown at them, I don’t know how they’re going to react. Neither Al nor Mark nor Juan ever pulled any military time. They are going to throw their people into this without any of
them having any experience in tactics or logistics.” Ben sighed heavily. “Maybe we can pull it off, Gale. I just don’t know.”
She snuggled closer to him. “Please hold me, Ben,” she whispered.
“My pleasure.”
Long moments passed before Gale asked, “What was her name, Ben?”
Ben pretended to be asleep. But seeking fingers soon found a part of him that proved sleep to be impossible.
It began to rain the morning of the second day out, a slow, leaden dropping from the clouds, with thick pockets of fog lying heavy over the land. It only added to the desolation of the ravaged countryside. The rain and fog slowed the column down to no more than a crawl.
The Rebels saw no people. Not one living soul. And no animals. But they did find several carcasses of cows and pigs. Something had been eating on them, something with super strength and a fanged mouth.
“I didn’t know they had gorillas in this part of the country,” Gale said, shuddering at the sight of the mutilated animals.
“They don’t,” Ben said grimly. “Just mutants.”
“Thanks,” she replied. “I really needed that just after breakfast. If you want to call that slop we had breakfast.”
“Crations.”
“What’s the C stand for: crap?”
“Get in the truck, Gale.”
“Whatever the master wishes.”
The column stopped at Thayer, in Missouri. The town was deserted. They slowly made their way to West Plains-also deserted. Willow Springs looked as though it had been torn apart by angry, petulant teenagers. With the scouts reporting back to them they felt as if eyes were on them.
“Don’t dismount!” Ben quickly radioed back. “Keep on rolling through the town. Get on through and wait for us a few miles northwest of there.”
Ben halted the convoy in Willow Springs. When he spoke to Gale, something in his voice told her not to argue with him.
“Stay here,” he told her. “And do not leave the truck unless and until I tell you to.”
She nodded.
Ben looked at her to see if she was feeling well.
Ben motioned for a team to begin moving up both sides of the street, weapons at combat ready. A thick, almost tangible odor hung over the small town. It resembled a scene from a grade B war movie: the sweaty faces of the troops; the hands clutching M-16’s, AK-47’S, CAR-15’S and numerous other weapons of violence and death.
The thirty tanks in Ben’s column rumbled quietly on both ends of the town, their noise adding to the idling sounds of the APC’S and self-propelled howitzers and heavy trucks.
“Shut them down!” Ben yelled. The order was relayed up and down the street.
The dead town suddenly grew silent, the ticking of cooling metal like out-of-sync clocks.
Ben walked the littered streets, his old Thompson at the ready, on full auto.
“Sinister,” Ben heard one young Rebel mutter, his voice rising above the heavy silence. “And eerie, to boot.”
“Possibly,” Ben replied, not turning his head toward the source of the words. “Steady now,” he called softly. “That smell is of mutants-and a lot of them. Fire only if fired upon. Let them make the hostile move. Pass the word.”
“There’s fresh crap here on the floor, General,” a sergeant called. “Not more than an hour old-if that old.”
“They’re here,” Ben said. “I can sense them. But they’re not running away, and they usually run at the sight of this many humans. Them not doing that bothers me.”
“They want me,” the small voice came from the top of what had once been a hardware store.