Danger in the Ashes

by William W. Johnstone

  Charlie hit the punji pit at a full run, the sharpened stakes driving into his legs and feet. He pitched forward, half in and half out of the deadly staked hole. Ben had wished, building the pit, that he had some monkey shit to dip the points in; but he figured he’d done pretty well with what he had in hand.

  Charlie’s screaming was cut short as the pain became too much and the young man passed out.

  “Goddamn you, Raines!” Hiram screamed. “Is you there?”

  Ben lay quietly, silently, his breathing slow and even and noiseless.

  “Come on out and fight lak a man, you bassard!” Hiram yelled.

  “Ah’m paralyzed!” Jackson moaned. “I cain’t move my legs, boys. Oh, Lard, Lard, hep me! I don’t wanna die. Mr. Raines! Mr. Raines! Hep me, please. Ah didn’t really mean you no serious harm.”

  Sure, Ben thought. Sure, you didn’t. When the chips get down, your kind always rolls over. And back when the world was whole, more or less, you always had some smooth-talking lawyer to help you. Now I’m putting into play what the courts should have done years back.

  Fuck you!

  “Hep me, Mr. Raines!” Jackson began sobbing. “Don’t leave me out there. The wolves’ll git me sure.”

  Wolves! Ben thought. It’s cocksuckers like you who killed the wolf out years ago. And now they’re back, and once again, silly assholes like you are scared of them.

  Ben remembered from his writing days that no one had ever been able to prove that a grown, healthy wolf had, unprovoked, ever attacked a human being.

  “Axel Leroy?” Hiram called.

  “Yes, Daddy?”

  “Kill that yeller-bellied son of a bitch, boy.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ben heard a single shot, and Jackson’s blubbering abruptly ended.

  “I got ’im, Daddy!” Axel yelled proudly.

  You raised a fine boy there, Hiram, Ben thought. Just a real jim-dandy.

  “Good shootin’, Axel Leroy,” Hiram told him.

  “Ah don’t thank Raines is nowhere around heers,” a man called out. “Ah thank he jist suckered us all in heer.”

  “Ah thank you rat, Sonny boy.” Another voice was added. “Whut you thank, Smithy?”

  “He long gone these parts.”

  “Oh, God, please hep me!” Charlie squalled, once more adrift in a sea of agony, the stakes punching through his legs and feet with each movement. “Oh, Lard, ah can’t stand hit!”

  “Vince,” Hiram called. “You closest to ’im. You wanna try ’er?”

  “Ah’ll do moreun ’at,” Vince bragged. “Ah’ll do ’er!”

  And you have to pass right by me to do it, Ben thought, smiling. He slipped his razor-honed long-bladed knife from leather and waited. He heard Vince coming closer, crawling toward the sounds of Charlie’s bawling and hollering. Ben had slipped to the edge of the brush, holding the knife in his right hand.

  Ben waited until Vince was at his position with his right arm fully extended, fingers digging in the dirt. He drove the blade into the hollow of the armpit, all the way to the hilt, and twisted the blade savagely. Vince screamed hideously. Ben jerked out the knife, coming up on his knees. He drove the blade into Vince’s neck, all the way through, at least six inches of the blade driving into the hard ground, pinning the flopping man where he lay.

  Then, working quickly, Ben did a little surgery on Vince.

  “Vince!” Hiram was hollering. “Oh, Vince-boy! Whut’s goin’ on over thar?”

  “Cover me!” a man yelled. “Ah’m a-gonna git Charlie.”

  Amid the banging of wild shooting, Ben dragged the body of Vince back into the brush and covered it. Then he made his way out of the brush and was a good mile away before the shooting stopped.

  Ike was so mad he almost broke the radio mic. Calming himself, he handed the mic back to the operator and stalked away to find Tina.

  She noted the dark look on Ike’s face. “What’s up, Ike?”

  “Buddy’s been hard hit, Tina. That trash that Ben told us about ambushed Buddy and Ben. Ben was unhurt, but now he’s gone on a rampage, alone, hunting them that did it.”

  “Is Buddy going to make it? And tell me the truth, Ike.”

  “I wouldn’t lie to you, Tina. Chase said that last night he wouldn’t have bet either way. But now, Buddy is awake and stronger and it looks good.”

  “Thank God!” She put her arms around the man she had called Uncle Ike for most of her life and placed her head on his barrel chest. “Now tell me about Dad.”

  Ike brought her up to date.

  She pulled away, wiped her eyes, and composed herself.

  “It’s no time to be brave, Tina,” Ike told her. “If you want to cry, go right ahead.”

  She shook her head. “It wouldn’t do any good, Ike. And it wouldn’t help us get the job done. My father is tough as a boot, Ike. Both mentally and physically. And I don’t have to tell an ex-SEAL that mental is the key to a good portion of getting the job done. Those redneck trash will regret the day they ever heard the name of Ben Raines.”

  Ike smiled at her. “Honey, I think they've been doing that for years!”

  “All right. Do we go into downtown Lancaster?”

  “Yeah. Let's see what's goin' on with the Yankees.”

  L.T. woke up at dawn, a strange weight on his chest. He opened his eyes and began screaming hysterically, almost insanely.

  The head of Vince, bloody and pale, with the eyes wide open in the shock of death, sat squarely on L.T.'s chest, staring at the man.

  ELEVEN

  Carl jumped up to run over to where L.T. lay thrashing around on the ground, his dirty feet kicking at the head of Vince. Vince's head rolled down the small incline to land with a soft plop in a fresh puddle of cow shit.

  Carl felt a series of hammer-blows on his back. It was the most peculiar sensation he had ever experienced in all his often-peculiar life. He felt himself falling, falling, as the white-hot pain began spreading all over the line of .45 caliber bullet holes.

  The last thing that Carl would think of was: We shoulda done whut Ben Raines wanted us to do.

  L.T. managed to get to his knees before the .45 caliber slugs of social justice stitched him from his right side to his neck. He died on his knees, hands at his side.

  William Watson lay hunkered in a ground depression. He had the time left to piss his dirty underwear, and when the grenade landed just a few inches from his nose the 60mm fragmentation grenade blew parts of William Watson all over the yard, some of them smacking Jimmy John in the face.

  “Yukk!” Jimmy John said, wiping his face. As he turned to find his weapon, his eyes met those of Ben Raines. Ben stood by a huge old oak tree. Jimmy John thought he had never in his life seen nothin’ that looked so savage.

  Ben shot him in the face, the copper-jacketed hollow-nosed .45 slugs making a dreadful mess in the early morning.

  Jimmy John was literally lifted off his feet and slung to one side.

  Ben took that confusing time to run to his right, circling the camp, staying in the deep brush, popping out the half-empty drum and fitting a full drum into the belly of the Thompson. He slung the SMG long enough to pull the pins of two grenades, one in each hand, holding the spoons down. Ben’s leg was aching, but he did not really notice the slight pain.

  Ben came face to face with a man; he could smell the fear-stink of the ’neck; smell the awful odor of rotting teeth and bad breath panting out of the man’s wide open mouth.

  Ben dropped one canister down the ’neck’s shirt front and drove his elbow into the man’s face, knocking him down. Ben ran behind a tree just as the grenade exploded, sending bits and pieces of human body all over the forest. He stepped out from behind the tree, his head aching and his ears ringing from the explosive sounds of battle and tossed the second grenade in the general direction he’d seen a ’neck run. The grenade blew and Ben watched as an arm floated lazily up into the air and then dropped to earth.

  A bullet sent pieces of bark
into the side of Ben’s face, ripping open the skin, bloodying his face. Ben turned and dropped to one knee, leveling the Thompson and holding the trigger back. Efrom Silas and Axel Leroy went jerking and dancing the macabre steps to the Stygian shore.

  “You’d never make it on Dance Party, boys.” Ben voiced a soldier’s grim humor. “Not original enough.”

  Ben squatted beside a tree and tallied it up, his eyes touching briefly on each sprawled body. He found a blanket-covered body and thought that must be Charlie. The punji stakes had done their work; probably bled to death.

  He did not see Hiram, nor G.B., nor the last son of Hiram; Bubba Willie, the retarded one, had been taken into town by his mother. Ben saw them then, the three of them, running across a meadow, heading for the bayou. He watched as they disappeared into the woods.

  Ben backed off from the site of carnage and rested, eating a can of cold beans and crackers for breakfast, sipping at his canteen of water.

  There was a grim smile of satisfaction on his face.

  “Hell of a damn battle just went on in there,” Captain Gorzalka remarked.

  “And look over there to the west,” a Rebel pointed out. “Buzzards circling.”

  “The general must have done that last night. He sure was some kind of pissed-off.”

  Holly had waited the long night, Chase insisting she stay. One thing the Rebels had was a fine staff of doctors; Buddy would be well taken care of. She had slept in the back of a truck; the gunfire and explosions had wakened her.

  “Oh, Lardy, Lardy, Lardy!” The shout was faint. “Halp, halp!”

  The Rebels started laughing, as much from relief as anything else. They knew then that the general was very much alive and well.

  “Come on, Grover Neal!” Hiram’s shout could be heard. “Git your ass a-movin’, boy!”

  “Ah’m a-gonna kill Ben Raines!” Grover shouted. “Ah’ll go down as a big man. Ah’ll be a hero, Daddy! Ah’ll be. . . .”

  The chug-a-chug of Ben’s Thompson rattled out the voice.

  Hiram and G.B. appeared on the far bank.

  “Y’all got to hep us!” G.B. squalled, his voice shaky with fear. “’at ’ere man’s plumb crazy. He’s a devil. He’s done kilt ever’body. He cut off Vince’s haid and crept up in our camp lak a snake and poot it on L.T.’s chest. Then he jist come out of the mist and started killin’! Oh, Lard, ya’ll got to hep us!”

  The Rebels stood on the high side of the opposite bank and looked on in undisguised disgust as Hiram and G.B. begged and groveled.

  “Ain’t y’all got no mercy in ya?” Hiram yelled. “Whut kind of people is y’all anyways?”

  G.B. screamed in fear as Ben appeared on the high bank above them. He fell to his hands and knees near the water. “I’m sorry, Mr. Raines. I’m sorry for all the bad thangs I done.” Then he began confessing to the most heinous of crimes. Torture and rape and perversion over the years. Incest with his daughters. Civil rights violations. He was blubbering and snorting as he finally wound down his list of atrocities.

  Hiram began puking on himself as Ben leveled the Thompson and held the trigger back. G.B. was flipped over into the dark waters of the bayou, blood leaking out of a dozen or more bullet holes. The blood drifted, attracted those who lived in the dark waters.

  With puke staining his chin and his shirt, Hiram began cursing Ben. Both Ben and the Rebels noticed a slight stirring of the brackish waters. Hiram finally paused for breath.

  Taking a deep breath, Hiram screamed, “I hope your son dies, Raines. I hope he suffers and hollers and cries. I hope you git the cancer. I hope your dick rots off.”

  Then he whirled and dove into the bayou.

  “Hold your fire!” Ben shouted.

  Hiram made it to the middle of the bayou. Water splashed high into the air as a ’gator took him by the legs and twisted, pulling Hiram down. Hiram surfaced once, his eyes wide with fear, his mouth open, water pouring out of it. The tail of a huge old mossy-back flipped out of the waters.

  And then the waters were still.

  Holly did a quick repair job on Ben’s face, sliced open his field pants and redressed his wound, giving him a shot of antibiotics. Ben endured it all silently.

  He had asked about Buddy, and had been told it looked good. He was going to make it.

  “General?” Captain Gorzalka asked. “Do you want us to start rebuilding the bridges?”

  Ben shook his head. “No. This will be a place for the animals to run free, safe from man. We’ll do this in every state. Someday, probably, man will fuck it all up again; but it won’t happen in our lifetime. This area will be off-limits to anyone except game management people.” He turned to an aide, who, he supposed, had been waiting all night for his return. “Make that an official order, Mary. Type it up and I’ll sign it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ben Raines!” Holly said. “You are a walking contradiction, you know that?”

  “Sure. Always have been.”

  “I swear to God, I think you care more about animals than you do about humans.”

  “Some humans, yeah. You’re right. You want a lecture on animal rights, Holly?”

  “Hell, no! Thank you just the same. Damn you, Ben Raines, you are the most infuriating man I have ever known. I swear that’s true. . . .”

  Ben fished in his pocket and found a biscuit, munching on it while Holly ranted and raved and cussed him . . . in a ladylike manner, of course.

  “Don’t you know that people care for you, Ben Raines? That people worry about you and some of these dumb stunts you pull? Well, do you realize that?”

  “Yep.” Ben chewed.

  Before she could get steamed up and started again, the radio-person hollered out, “Dr. Allardt? Dr. Chase on the horn.”

  Muttering, Holly walked to the vehicle and spoke with Chase.

  “She really likes me,” Ben said to Captain Gorzalka, motioning toward Holly.

  “If you say so, sir,” the captain replied dubiously. “How many did you off in there, general?”

  Ben thought for a moment, mentally counting it up. “About fifteen, I think.”

  “General? That old lady in there, that hoodoo woman, Pauly, or whatever her name is?”

  “What about her?”

  “She’s still in there. She refused to come out with Emil and his fruitcakes.”

  “She’s harmless. We’ll check on her from time to time. I think she likes being alone. Captain, you know of anybody who likes animals and who would like to be in charge of this area?”

  Gorzalka grinned.

  “All right.” Ben returned the grin. “You’ve got the job. Course you might be pulled away from it from time to time.”

  “Suits me, sir.”

  Holly walked back over. “Buddy was just taken off the critical list. Upgraded to serious. He’s going to make it, Ben.”

  “Think he’ll be ready to go in twenty-four hours, Holly?”

  Holly lost her temper — again. “What in the hell are you babbling about now, Raines? Twenty-four hours! How about two months, you hardhead?”

  “Calm yourself, dear. I was just joking a bit.”

  “I didn’t laugh!”

  “I noticed that. I’m very quick about that sort of thing. Humorless, that’s you.”

  “Ben Raines, you just killed about a zillion people in there!” She waved her hand. “And you’re making jokes!”

  “Fourteen, actually, I think. The ’gator got Hiram. Captain Gorzalka, you have any bicarb with you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Toss it in the bayou. The ’gator is going to need it.”

  Laughing, the Rebel walked away.

  “Jesus Christ, Ben!” Holly yelled. “And what about this twenty four-hour-business. What the hell are you planning? Come on, you’ve got something up your sleeve.”

  “I think we could use another combat doctor, Holly. You want to come along with me? It’s going to be a unique experience. Have you ever worked in a field hospital?
”

  “I swear to God, Ben, you’re babbling out of your skull. Did I miss a wound? Did you receive a blow to the head?”

  “I’m fine, Holly. My, but it’s a glorious morning, isn’t it?”

  “It’s lovely. Beautiful. Where are we going, Ben?”

  “You sure you want to come along, now, Holly?”

  “Yes, Ben. I’m sure. Now where are we going?”

  Ben smiled at her. “Michigan!”

  TWELVE

  “I don’t blame you, Ben,” Lamar Chase said, sitting in Ben’s office, watching the man field-strip his Thompson and carefully clean and oil each part. “I just wish I was going with you.”

  “We’re all going to New York City, Lamar. If it’s standing. I’ll probably leave no more than two companies here.”

  “Buddy is fully conscious now. He’s in some pain, but he’s going to be just fine. It was a very close thing.”

  “I’m going to see him late this afternoon. Was he informed of my foray into Hiram’s territory?”

  “Yes. He said that didn’t surprise him a bit; only wished he could have gone along with you.”

  Colonel Joe Williams, Ben’s XO, stepped into the office. Ben looked up. “You’re in charge here, Joe, effective 0400 tomorrow morning.”

  “Yes, sir. Wish I was going with you.”

  “I know you do. Just keep the Big Apple in mind.” Ben leaned back in his chair. “Joe, it’s all running smoothly and I know you’ll keep it that way. When Buddy gets ambulatory, start going over leadership courses with him. He’s a good boy, but he’s still got a lot to learn about commanding personnel. At your recommendation, I’ll commission him when I get back.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  To Chase, “You’re sure you don’t mind Holly coming along?”

  “Of course not, Ben. I’m falling over good doctors. She’ll be needed up in Michigan. I’ve taken the liberty of packing some extra materials that I think she’ll need.”

  “Good. All right, people. That about wraps it up. I’m going to clean up, get something to eat, and then start lining up the people I’m taking with me.”