Danger in the Ashes

by William W. Johnstone

  Ham had joined them. “What about the city, general? Do we clean it out?”

  Ike shook his head. “No. I’m not going to waste any more personnel on a group of people who won’t fight for their own lives. Order all personnel to regroup; cease our searching for the remaining Night People.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Ike once more faced the lines of just-rescued civilians, the spokesman said, “The Lord provided you people, didn’t He?”

  “Only momentarily, partner. We’re pulling out within the hour.”

  Panic crossed the man’s face. “But you can’t just leave us unprotected, sir.”

  “You got two hands don’t you, mister? Pick up a gun and fight!”

  “We cannot.”

  “You won’t, you mean?”

  The man shrugged. “Where are our children?”

  “We’re taking the younger ones with us.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “There is one way to prevent that.”

  “How? We’ll do anything.”

  Ike turned to a Rebel. “Give him your weapon.”

  The Rebel walked to the man and offered his M-16. The man shook his head. “I will not touch that thing.”

  “Let’s go!” Ike shouted. “Mount up!”

  “And you call yourself a Christian!” the man sneered at Ike.

  “I call myself a realist, mister. And you all seem to be forgetting one message from the Bible: The Lord helps those who help themselves.”

  As Ben looked up at the star-filled sky, an old song came to mind; something about a starry, starry night. He couldn’t remember much else about it; except that he’d always liked it. Couldn’t remember who sang it. Fellow had a very pleasant-sounding voice.

  His team was loading up, moving toward the planes, heavy with battle gear.

  “Everyone present and accounted for, sir,” James Riverson said.

  “OK, James. Thanks. What’s the latest word from Cecil?”

  “They have engaged the enemy only sporadically. They’ve taken some of the pressure off those trapped, but it’s turned into a cat-and-mouse game.”

  “Another dirty little war.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The engines of the planes began coughing into life, making conversation difficult. Ben spotted Holly and Patrice and pointed toward a plane, motioning them to get on board.

  “Good luck, sir!” Colonel Joe Williams shouted.

  “Thanks, Joe. You take care.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ben walked across the tarmac and boarded, finding his canvas seat. The engineer handed him a headset and Ben plugged it in. Ben and James had been the last to board. “Ready when you are, captain,” Ben said.

  The interior lights flickered twice and the door was locked closed.

  Ben looked across at Holly. “You ready for a little combat, doctor?”

  “Not really. But whither thou goest and all that stuff.”

  Ben laughed at her. “That’s what I like, Holly. A woman who knows her place.”

  She gave him the finger.

  FOURTEEN

  “How’s it looking in your sector, Dan?” Cecil radioed.

  “Buggers won’t stand and fight, Cecil.”

  “Colonel West?”

  “We’ve linked up with Colonel Rebet and Major Danjou, general. At your orders, we’ll begin securing everything from Brown’s Lake south to Murphy’s Creek, and then push east.”

  “Are you in position, Dan?”

  “Ten-four, Cecil.”

  “I’ll be in position in a few hours, gentlemen. But we’re going to be spread very thin. We desperately need someone at the easternmost sector. Hang on, a runner just handed me a message. Son of a bitch!” they all heard the usually calm Cecil yell.

  “What’s up, Cecil?” Dan radioed.

  “Ben. He’s on his way with two companies; left at oh-four-hundred this morning.”

  “You owe me a pound of tobacco, Dan,” Colonel West said. “I told you!”

  “Don’t rub it in. Cecil? Shall we wait for Ben. His bunch can plug up that eastern hole.”

  “Ten-four. Let’s hold what we’ve got. Ben should be here in about eight hours. As soon as they land, he’ll start stretching south to north. We’ll shove off at dawn.”

  Some of the spirit of adventure, of heading into the unknown had, for a time, left the Rebels under Ike’s command. It would return, but for now, they were mostly silent as the miles slipped past. They all knew it was a hard thing to take people’s children from them. But they all knew, at least in this case, it was best for the kids. What other alternative did the Rebels have? If the adults of the community wished to be eaten alive, that was their choice. It was unfair to ask a child to be devoured for the parents’ philosophy.

  And while the Rebels, to a person, disagreed with what the civilians they had rescued were doing, they also respected religious rights; that was just one of the things they were fighting for. Some of what the Rebels did was unpopular, and, had there been other laws, would have been illegal. But they were fighting to restore a nation, and somebody’s rights were going to be stepped on for the good of the majority. As General Ike had said, “Tough times call for tough people.”

  That’s just the way it was.

  They had skirted Lancaster, and according to Tina and her Scouts, who were now ranging only five to six miles ahead of the convoy, the area before them was deserted . . . except for Night People, who they were sure were holed up in the small towns.

  They made the run from Lancaster to Philadelphia without incident. Probably because they did not stop to investigate any of the towns they rumbled through.

  “How about Philadelphia, Ike?” Tina radioed back from her point position.

  “Any blockades, Tina?”

  “Negative, Ike.”

  “Next exit, Tina, work north over to Interstate Seventy-six. Take it to the loop. That’s . . . Two seventy-six. Stay on it until we cross the river. ’Bout . . . four or five miles past the river you’ll hit the Jersey Turnpike. We’re going to shut it down and make some plans just inside New Jersey.”

  “Ten-four, Ike.”

  The planes refueled at Memphis and Ben dropped off some much-needed supplies for the beleaguered little garrison defending the airport.

  “Sure am glad to see you people,” the lieutenant in charge told Ben. “It was hell for a time. Had to nap during the day and stay alert at night.”

  “Better now?”

  “Much better, sir. With these Claymores you brought us, we’ll all feel better. We’re gradually pushing them back. We’ve cleared about a quarter of a mile in any direction, working in two-person teams during the day.”

  “You’ve all done a good job. I’m very proud of you all. Just hang tough until we get this mess cleared in Michigan, then you can be relieved.”

  “Yes, sir. I don’t think they’re going to bother us much after today. We rounded up all the portable generators we could find; got about half of them working. No point in juicing wire or fences; they’ve learned to short them out. We found a whole bunch of floodlights. That pretty much keeps them away. Caution your team, general, not to walk anywhere except on the paved areas. The rest is heavily mined.”

  “Will do, Kitty. Thanks.”

  The planes were refueled and airborne in less than thirty minutes, the tanks topped off to the last drop; the next stop was lower Michigan.

  The convoy pulled over in a rest area, Ike briefed his people. “All right, gang, listen up. I was going on north, but I changed my mind. I want to investigate some military bases: Fort Dix, McGuire Air Force Base, and the Naval Air Station. We might luck up and hit treasure. Tina, follow the route I marked on the map. Let’s roll. If all goes right, we’ll spend the night at Dix. Move out.”

  The bases were a mess, having been looted and picked over many times, but Ike knew there were treasures to be found . . . if one knew where to look, and Ike knew where to look. He began assigning tea
ms.

  “Sid, take your people and start piecing some trucks together. If I remember correctly, the motor pool is over yonder somewhere.” He grinned. “You’ll find it.”

  “Thanks a lot, general. What if we find Night People?”

  “You got a choice, Sid. Kiss them or kill them.”

  “Thank you. The options are simply delightful.”

  And that broke whatever tension and depression might have remained after the other day’s grisly work and the taking of the kids. Laughing, the Rebels gathered around Ike and Tina.

  “We’re going to find a lot of things that we can use, gang. Things that looters would bypass, thinking they couldn’t use them. On all of these bases, we’re going to have to blow the concrete and steel doors leading to the underground complex. It will be well worth the effort, believe me.”

  It came as a surprise to them all, and a very pleasant surprise, but they found no traces of the Night People. What they did find were long, dark corridors filled with numerous accouterments of and for war: radios, rifles and machine guns, hundreds of vases of ammo, rations, C and MREs, still good. They found spare parts for nearly everything imaginable. Nearly every base had such underground warehouses; it’s just that the public didn’t know about them.

  They found underground fuel tanks filled with gasoline. They found portable generators, camp stoves, Tommy cookers, and Ranger stoves; boots by the hundreds of pairs, and uniforms by what looked like the thousands.

  Ike stepped into one huge room and smiled. “Well, now, lookie here, lookie here!”

  “What is it, Ike?” Tina asked.

  “Old flame throwers. I want all of these loaded now. We can mix our own fuel. They’ll come in handy.”

  She grinned. “I know what you’re thinking, Ike.”

  “You bet. The Night Creepers ain’t gonna like none of what these old babies can put out.”

  “You’re a mean man, Ike McGowan.”

  “I ain’t bad for a Mississippi white boy!”

  Several black Rebels standing nearby groaned.

  Ike walked away, grousing. “First man ain’t got a chance around you rhythm aces!”

  To an outsider, the bantering might have seemed tinged with ugly racism. It was not. That would not have been tolerated by anyone of any color in the Rebel ranks. It was offered good-naturedly, and taken the same way. That was not to say that Ben Raines had eradicated all racism within his army. But all were trying very hard, and it appeared to be working.

  Only a fool makes the statement that he or she can look at someone of another color and not see it. Ben’s philosophy was: See it all you want, just accept it for what it is — all Rebels bleed the same color.

  Ike stood outside the tunnel entrance, his eyes looking north. Tina climbed out to join him and to get a breath of fresh air, for it was stale and musty in the tunnels.

  “It’s right up there, Tina. We’ll exit off at Perth Amboy and hit Staten Island.”

  “Will I see the Statue of Liberty, Uncle Ike?”

  “Yeah, from the north end of the island, if it’s a clear day.”

  She was gazing at an old map of New York City and shaking her head.

  Ike grinned at her, knowing, or at least suspecting, what was going on in her head. “What’s the matter, kid?”

  “I can’t even imagine what this place is like, Ike.”

  “It’s a monster, kid. But one time it was a great place to visit. Lots of things to see and do.”

  “You ever live there, Ike?”

  “Hell, no!”

  She laughed aloud at the expression on his face. “Why, Ike?”

  “Too damn many people. I was always glad to visit, but just as glad to get gone.”

  Ham joined them. “Sid’s got some vehicles running, general. And we’re loading up and tarping down the equipment you wanted loaded. We’re welding the doors closed now.”

  “All right. Post guards and set up camp. We’ll take it easy the rest of the day and relax some. Get me about a half-dozen big ol’ boys, Ham. I want to go over the nomenclature of those flame throwers.”

  “Right away.” He turned and walked off.

  “I want everybody to learn how to operate these old M2Als, Tina. But they’re heavy old bastards. About seventy pounds.”

  “How do they work, Ike?”

  “All it is is thickened fuel that’s propelled by gas under pressure. They have a range of about forty yards. It’s about the most effective thing we can use against the Night Creepies. Come on, let’s get something to eat. I’m hungry!”

  “You’re always hungry. Would you like another ham sandwich? I saved some of the food that was prepared for us by . . . those people yesterday.”

  “No. Just the thought of who fixed it makes me gag.”

  “Yeah? There is something else, too, Ike.”

  “What?”

  “How do we know it was really ham?”

  Ike glanced at her and belched. “I just lost my appetite!”

  They refueled at a small airport in lower Michigan, and dropped off supplies for the small team of Rebels who had flown in and opened the strip. While there, Ben used the radio to reach Cecil.

  “Be there in about two hours, Cec. How’s it looking so far?”

  “Not bad. So far, though, we’ve been fighting shadows.”

  “It’s your show, Cec. Where do you want me and mine to set up?”

  “Plug the gap between Dafter and Sault Ste. Marie, Ben. South to north. We’ll start putting the squeeze on the outlaws at dawn. I’m giving you that sector because of the smallness of your team.”

  “Ten-four. Where are the others?”

  Cecil brought him up to date.

  “I’ll start getting into position as soon as we land, Cec. What do you hear from Ike?”

  “He’s at Fort Dix, Ben.”

  “Son of a bitch! For a decade we’ve lived under a myth.”

  “Exciting, isn’t it, Ben?”

  “To say the least. So let’s get this little foray wrapped up ASAP, buddy. I want to take a bite out of the Big Apple.”

  Cecil laughed over the miles. “You’ll never change, Ben. If there’s action, you just have to be there, don’t you?”

  “Damn right!”

  “See you soon, Ben. Hawk out.”

  “Let’s go, let’s go!” Ben hollered, waving toward the planes. “It’s kick-ass time!”

  “Most impossible man I have ever encountered,” Holly muttered to Patrice as they boarded the planes.

  Patrice grinned at her, belting herself in. “But never a dull moment around him.”

  “That’s what has me worried; I’m beginning to enjoy it!”

  FIFTEEN

  “Does anyone even know who the hell it is we’re fighting?” Ben asked the small garrison of Rebels at the Chippewa Airport.

  “Some warlord by the name of Monte. And he’s a bad one, general. Just as bad as, maybe even worse than, Sam Hartline.”

  Ben looked at the sergeant. “Nobody is that rotten, sergeant.”

  “Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but this one is. He’s cut a path of terror wherever he goes. According to the intelligence we received from the Russian colonel, Rebet, and from Major Danjou, this Monte is working hand-in-glove with the Night People.”

  “How can that be?”

  “Here’s what we have on him, general. He was twenty years old when the Canadians put him in prison — life sentence — for multiple murders, rape, torture, the whole dirty ball of wax. A year later, the bombs came. He and a bunch of others busted out during the panic; they linked up with a bunch of cons from the States. They’ve been growing larger ever since.”

  They waited until a plane had landed and taxied away.

  “This Monte, so it seems, has struck some sort of deal with the Night People. He supplies them with humans, for food, in exchange for the best-looking women they capture, and he’s also agreed to protect them against any large-scale attack. He’s just a real nice fellow, gener
al.”

  “Certainly seems that way. Give me the rest of it, sergeant.”

  “He’s also reported to have worked out some sort of nonaggression pact with Khamsin. That was done only a few days before the people up here called for our help. And,” the sergeant sighed, “rumor has it that he’s got one hell of a detachment somewhere around the New York City area.”

  “Has Ike been notified?”

  “No, sir. We can’t get through to him. The frequencies are being jammed.”

  “Goddamnit! Now you’re going to tell me this Monte’s army is a hell of a lot bigger than we were first informed.” Not a question.

  “Yes, sir. By about several thousand.”

  Holly and Patrice were standing close by, listening. Patrice said, “I never heard of anyone called Monte, general. Where has this person been all the time?”

  “A damn good question, captain.” He looked at the sergeant.

  The man shrugged his shoulders. “We can only guess, sir. Working somewhere between Toronto and Montreal, intelligence thinks. Just beginning his push west. It’s said that Detroit is crawling with these creepy bastards.”

  “I should have destroyed the shells of cities,” Ben muttered. “I had a plan to do just that and didn’t put it into effect. This is what I get for it.”

  “You can’t be expected to think of everything, general,” Patrice told him. “We’ll just have to take it one problem at a time.”

  Ben smiled, picking up on the “we.” He glanced at her. “Yes, captain, we’ll have to do that. James!”

  “Yes, sir,” the big sergeant major called.

  “Start moving the people out, head them north.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ben looked toward the east. “Hang tough, Ike. Hang tough.”

  “It’s no use, general,” communications informed him. “I’ve heightened the antenna to where I should be able to talk to Mars. I can’t break through. I think we’re being jammed.”

  “Jammed! Who’s doin’ it?”

  “I don’t know, sir. Somebody with equipment that’s just as sophisticated as ours.”

  “Well, now . . . that’s just lovely.” Ike motioned his XO over. “Tom, I think we’re in for a fight. Have Ham stop welding those doors closed. We might need some of that equipment in there. Have the people start laying out perimeters; but don’t make them so broad we can’t defend them. I want mortars right here!” He pointed to the ground, then pointed out other emplacements. “I don’t think there is anyplace for us to run. I think we boxed ourselves in. I did. Tell Sid to stop whatever he’s doing and get his people working on bringing up those Bradley tanks we found. Just get them running somehow. Get your 40mm cannons up and placed. Fifties ringing the area. Claymores out. Move, Tom!”