Camp Humble went right on reducing population. Trains still rolled in from Louisiana and Mississippi and Arkansas and east Texas. Ships brought Negroes from Cuba to the Texas ports. He aimed to go right on doing his job till somebody set over him told him to stop.
Without warning, the song he was listening to broke off. An announcer came on the air: "We interrupt this program for a special proclamation from the Governor of the great state of Texas, the Honorable Wright Patman. Governor Patman!"
"What the-?" Jeff said. Something had hit the fan, that was for damn sure.
"Citizens of Texas!" Governor Patman said. "A hundred years ago, this state was an independent republic, owing allegiance to no nation but itself. We joined first the USA and then the CSA, but we have never forgotten our own proud tradition of…freedom." That was the Party slogan, yeah, but he didn't use it the way a good Party man would.
Jeff muttered, "Uh-oh." No, he didn't like the way Patman used it at all.
Sure as the devil, the Governor of Texas went on, "The Confederate government has brought us nothing but ruin and a losing war. The United States have already stolen part of our territory and revived the so-called state of Houston that blighted the map after the last war. They have killed our soldiers, bombed our cities, and ruined our trade. The Confederate government is powerless to stop them or even slow them down."
"Uh-oh," Pinkard said, and then, for good measure, "Aw, shit."
"Since the Confederate government cannot protect us, it is no longer a fit government for the great people of Texas," Governor Patman said. "Accordingly, by my order, the state of Texas is from this day forward no longer part of the so-called Confederate States of America. I hereby restore the Republic of Texas as a free and independent nation, on an equal footing with the Confederate States, the United States, the Empire of Mexico, and all the other free and independent nations of the world.
"As my first act as provisional President of the Republic of Texas, I have asked the government of the United States for an armistice. They have recognized my administration-"
"Jesus! I fuckin' bet they have!" Jeff exclaimed. What a mess! And he was, literally, in the middle of it.
"— and agreed to a cease-fire. All Texas soldiers are ordered to no longer obey the so-called Confederate authorities. All other Confederate troops within the borders of the Republic of Texas may hold in place and be disarmed by Texas authorities, or may withdraw to territory still under the rule of the so-called Confederate States. The United States have agreed that the forces of the Republic of Texas are not obliged to hinder this retreat, nor will we-so long as it remains peaceful and orderly. U.S. forces reserve the right to attack retreating C.S. forces, however, and neither will we interfere with them on the ground, in the air, or at sea.
"At this point in time, that is all. As peace returns at last after the madness of the Featherston administration, I call on God Almighty to bless the great Lone Star Republic of Texas. Thank you, and good afternoon."
"That was Governor-uh, excuse me, President-Wright Patman of the, uh, Republic of Texas." The wireless announcer sounded as flummoxed as everybody else had to be. He went on, "President Patman has brought peace to Texas, and what could be a more precious gift?"
"He's bugged out on the war, that's what he's done, the goddamn traitor son of a bitch!" Jeff Pinkard shouted, as if Patman and the announcer were there to hear him.
He remembered what Mayor Doggett had told him to do if the damnyankees got close: take his family and get the hell out in a civilian auto and civilian clothes. The advice looked a lot better now than it had then. But Raymond was tiny, and Edith still wasn't over birthing him, and…
The telephone rang. If that was Edith, and she'd listened to the wireless…"Pinkard here."
It wasn't Edith. It was Vern Green, and he'd listened to the wireless. "Fuck a duck!" the guard chief cried. "What the hell are we gonna do, sir? Can we get outa here? The damnyankees'll crucify us if they catch us."
"They're still way the hell over on the other side of the state," Jeff said uneasily.
"All the better reason to get out now, while we still can," Green said. "That asshole Patman, he's surrendering to them, near as makes no difference. There'll be U.S. soldiers all over Texas fast as they can move."
Part of Jeff said Vern Green was flabbling over nothing. There wouldn't be U.S. soldiers all over Texas no matter what-the state was too damn big for that. But there might be U.S. soldiers here at Camp Humble in the next day or two. The Yankees wanted this place closed down, and they wanted that bad.
He'd never dreamt he would have to worry about something like this. "Anybody who wants to disappear, I won't say boo," he said slowly. "Do what you think you gotta, that's all. Hell, you may be right."
"Much obliged, sir," Green said, and hung up. Jeff knew what that meant: he planned on bailing out.
How much did what he planned matter? A guard knocked on Jeff 's door. When the camp commandant let him in, the man said, "Sir, there's a Texas Ranger captain named Hezekiah Carroll out there, and he wants to see you."
Pinkard didn't want to see the biblically named Texas Ranger. What choice did he have, though? "All right," he growled. "Bring him on in."
Carroll was tall and weathered and tough-looking. But if he was as tough as he looked, why wasn't he in the Army? Before Jeff could ask him, he said, "You will have heard of the reestablishment of the Republic of Texas?"
"Yeah, I've heard of it. Getting out while the getting's good, are you?" Jeff said.
"Yes," Carroll answered baldly. "You will also have heard that Confederate troops may evacuate?"
"I heard that, too, all right," Jeff allowed. "What about it?"
"It doesn't mean you. That's part of the deal Governor-uh, President-Patman cut with the Yankees," Carroll said. "They say Confederate combat soldiers are welcome to leave. But you people-they want y'all. Crimes against humanity, they call it."
"Oh, my ass!" Pinkard exploded. "You gonna tell me you're sorry we're taking care of our nigger troubles? Yeah, sure-go ahead. Make me believe it."
Captain Carroll turned red. All the same, he said, "What I think hasn't got diddly-squat to do with it. I know damn well this is the best deal Texas can get. If you and your people try to evacuate this camp, we will stop you, and that's the God's truth."
"Christ! I never thought my own side would fuck me!" Jeff tried to figure out what to do. With all the machine guns in the guard towers, he could hold off the Rangers, or anybody else who didn't have artillery, for a long time. But what good did that do him when he needed to get the hell out of here?
None. Zero. Zip.
Maybe he could mount machine guns in some of the camp trucks and shoot his way past the Rangers. Yeah, it might work once, but it was more than a hundred miles from Humble to the Louisiana border. Could he win a running fight? Not a chance in church, and he knew it.
"I am a citizen of the Republic of Texas, and my country has an armistice with the USA," Carroll said. "I have to abide by the terms of the armistice, and I will. I'm only following orders, same as you were doing here. But the country that gave you orders is going down the crapper, and mine's just getting started."
Only following orders. That was the main defense Pinkard had if he ever did get in trouble for what the camps did. It sounded pretty goddamn hollow when somebody else threw it in his face.
"Listen-let's do it like this." He wasn't used to pleading; he hadn't had to do it for a lot of years. He gave it his best shot, though: "We can keep it unofficial. Let us slide on out of here a few at a time-how's that? Then nobody'll be any wiser when we're gone, nobody'll get in any trouble, and we can get back to doing what needs doing once we're somewhere that's still fighting." He didn't even cuss out Wright Patman, no matter how much he wanted to.