Trapped in the Ashes

by William W. Johnstone

  “Me, Ike. You knew that without asking.”

  “I was hopin’ you’d change your mind. Any further intell on Gene Savie and his bunch?”

  “Dribs and drabs. None of it good. I still haven’t made up my mind about that bunch. Probably won’t until the last minute. Hell, I might go see them now. Luck to you, Ike.”

  Ben turned and walked away. He paused and looked back. “Keep an eye on Jerre for me, Ike.”

  Ike nodded. “Will do, Ben.”

  “Where to, General?” Cooper asked.

  “To see Gene Savie and his bunch. Might as well bring it all to a head.”

  Buddy and his team and Tina and her team followed the Blazer. Ben stared down a pasty-faced member of Savie’s survivors. “Get Gene out here. Now.”

  The Rebels had spread out in a half circle around Ben as Gene crunched through the snow, walking up to Ben.

  “You wanted to see me, General Raines.”

  “Not really. But it’s time for some truth, Savie. How deep in cahoots were you with the Night People?”

  “Why . . . not at all, General.”

  “You’re a goddamned liar, Savie! There is no way you could have survived as long as you did without striking some kind of deal with them.”

  Savie tried to meet Ben’s steady gaze, but his eyes kept sliding to one side or the other. “They forced us to work with them,” he finally said, his tone about as believable as a dentist who says that this isn’t going to hurt a bit.

  “You’re slime, Savie. Pure slime. You and the rest of your scum turned your backs to the horror, for years. You’re just as bad as the creepies.” Ben’s hand lashed out and slapped the man across the face. “Look at me when I talk to you, you son of a bitch!”

  A thin trickle of blood leaked out of Savie’s mouth. He made no effort to raise the weapon he carried in his hand.

  “Stay out of my way until this is over, Savie,” Ben warned him. “As a matter of fact, stay out of everybody’s way. Some Rebel just might take it into his or her head to kill you!”

  Ben turned around and walked off, leaving a badly shaken Gene Savie staring at his back. Savie slowly looked around him, looking at the hard eyes of the Rebels. “They forced us to do it,” he repeated. “You don’t know what it was like here. You don’t!”

  One of the Rebels moved the muzzle of his M16. “You better carry your ass, Savie. ’Cause there isn’t a one of us that wouldn’t have rather died than work with the creepies. They’d have had to hunt us down like a wounded animal and kill us, one by one. Now get on out of here, you slimy bastard! Just lookin’ at you makes me want to puke. Move!”

  When Savie had walked away, toward his apartment building, a Rebel asked, “Do you reckon General Raines is gonna take them with us?”

  He got a quick glance and a hard smile. “Don’t bet on it. I got me a hunch the general is gonna leave them on the island.”

  Ben drove over to Colonel West’s position and briefed the man on his encounter with Savie.

  West spat on the snow. “We don’t need them out there,” he said, jerking his head to indicate anywhere outside the confines of Manhattan Island.

  “I don’t intend to take them with us.”

  West’s smile was very thin. “I didn’t think you would.”

  “You and your people and Tina and her teams follow Cecil and Buddy out of here when the time comes. Rebet and Danjou will go next, then Striganov, with Emil and Thermopolis. I’ll come out last with Dan.”

  “When do you figure the total bug-out will take place?”

  “Another three-four days. Maybe five. It all depends on how well Khamsin takes the bait. I want him in the center of the city before we push the button.”

  “And Savie and his people?”

  “After we take the kids from them, I don’t care where they’ll be.”

  “Ahh! Not only have I discovered that you are a hopeless romantic, but that you also have a soft spot in your heart for kids and animals, Ben.”

  “Guilty on all counts, West. Dan will round them up just before we bug out.”

  Ben drove over to speak to Cecil. “You go after Ike, Cec. . . .”

  “Now, goddammit, Ben!”

  “No arguments, Cec. I’ve got to have my second-in-command free and clear should anything happen to me. If I get caught up in the firestorm, you know what to do. Have you spoken with the Underground People?”

  “Yes. They’re ready to leave. They say they plan to make their way to Colorado. I understand they have others like them living in caves out there.”

  “To each his own,” Ben said. “They’re good people. All right, Cec. The fighting isn’t over yet. I’ll see you before the bug-out.”

  Ben briefed the others on their role in the bug-out and then returned to his CP.

  “Dan, you take a team and hit Savie’s apartment complex the morning of the bug-out. Grab the kids and take them over to Striganov’s sector. Buddy, you’ll leave with Cecil’s battalion. Dan and I will be the last to leave the city.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Any word as yet on whether Khamsin has taken the bait we offered?”

  “Tall Eyes report a few patrols have made their way into that sector,” Dan told him. “It’s a good thing we didn’t booby-trap the first few blocks.”

  “What now, Father?” Buddy asked, the youth in him impatient.

  Ben smiled. “We wait.”

  EIGHT

  Khamsin halted his recon teams a block before they would hit the booby-trapped buildings and alleyways. Then he began slowly moving up his main force, still several thousand strong, to join his forward patrols.

  They spread out west to east, from river to river, and settled in for the night.

  Tall Eyes reported this to Ben.

  “Do we hit them, Father?” Buddy asked.

  “Be patient, son. Why should we risk our lives when we have a hundred or so booby traps to do the killing for us? What’s the matter, boy? You got a girl back at Base Camp One?”

  “I have girls wherever I go, Father,” the son replied, trying to look stern and very worldly.

  Ben laughed at him and ruffled the young man’s hair.

  “Typical Raines,” Dan remarked, saluting the pair with an uplifted empty teacup.

  “General Ike pulling out, sir,” Chuck said. “And he’s got his tanks snorting and clanking, going around in circles.”

  “That’s what I wanted him to do. Surely Khamsin had sense enough to send some spotters up to the top floors of tall buildings.”

  “I think the man’s hatred for you, and us, has clouded his mind,” Dan said. He lifted the lid on his teapot and inhaled the fragrance of the steeping tea. “Nothing finer in all the world,” he said with a smile. “Now if I just had some decent biscuits to go with it.”

  “We had biscuits for lunch,” Buddy told him.

  “He means cookies,” Ben said.

  “But he said biscuits.”

  “Trust me.”

  “Tea, gentlemen?” Dan smiled.

  “I’ll pass,” Ben said. “Give me the radio, Chuck. Go have yourself a cup of tea.”

  “I hate tea, sir.”

  Dan looked offended. “The tastes of Americans never cease to amaze me.”

  Ben lifted the mike. “Eagle to Shark on scramble.”

  “Go, Eagle.”

  “Any indications that Khamsin is watching or listening to all that racket?”

  “I got to believe he is, Eagle. The man may be a little bit nuts, but I don’t believe he’s a fool.”

  “All right, Ike. Safe journey.”

  “Ten-four, Eagle. Shark out.”

  Ben looked at Buddy. “Take a recon team up north, Buddy. Don’t mix it up with any of Khamsin’s people. I want reports, not blood. Take off.”

  “On my way.”

  “You sure you won’t have a spot of tea?” Dan asked.

  “I hate tea!” Chuck said. “Yuck!”

  “A large contingent of Rebels leav
ing their sector, General,” a runner told Khamsin.

  “Heading where?”

  “East.”

  “Brooklyn. It has to be. They’re heading across the river.” Khamsin was thoughtful for a moment. “But why? Why now? What is that filthy dog Raines pulling? He gave us half a dozen blocks. Why? We’ve encountered no traps. So why did he do it and what is he doing now?”

  “Perhaps he is running away?” one of the general’s gofers suggested.

  Khamsin frosted him silent with one long dark look. “Running away from what? Us? If he is running away, he’s doing it laughing, and not from fear. Admit it, people. I have. He’s done nothing but toy with us. He has manipulated us with the ease of a puppet-master. We advance in the morning—very slowly, very carefully. Let’s see what Ben Raines is giving us . . . and why he gave us those blocks.”

  Buddy was back at ten o’clock, reporting to Dan. “Nothing moving up there. The streets are deserted. But the troops of the Hot Wind are on an unusually high level of alert.”

  “Which probably indicates they will make some sort of move come the dawn. Thanks, Buddy. Go get some rest. I’ll advise your father.”

  Ben listened and said, “We’ll roll out an hour earlier, Dan, and move everybody south ten blocks, to a Hundred Forty-fifth Street. Let’s give Khamsin all the room he needs. Once he hits that booby-trapped area, he’ll slow down, probably for a day. That will give Ike more time to wrap things up in Brooklyn. I want Khamsin in the Central Park area before we make our final bug-out. There isn’t much in the way of lethal doses north of the park. Let him come on.”

  “Going to be interesting when his men hit the booby-trapped areas.”

  “Very interesting.”

  Ben started pulling his people back several hours before dawn, moving them down to 145th Street. But even with this move, Khamsin was still fifty blocks away from the northernmost edge of Central Park.

  By dawn, only Ben and Dan and one company of Rebels were still on the line, and they were all ready to bug out.

  A shattering roar split the white calmness of early dawn, the explosion setting off half a dozen other booby traps nearby. Buildings collapsed, sending walls tumbling down onto the troops of the Hot Wind. Entire storefronts were blown out into the snow-covered streets, the bricks and tangled steel rods becoming as lethal as a hail of bullets, breaking bones, ripping flesh and smashing skulls.

  “I do believe Khamsin’s men have reached the scene,” Dan observed, munching on a cracker.

  Right-o,” Ben said, with a smile, lifting his binoculars.

  The powerful lenses brought the street of destruction leaping into his eyes. Huge clouds of dust were lifting into the air; small fires had been set by incendiary bombs. The flames began reaching out and igniting the dry wood of other buildings. Black smoke soon joined the dust clouds, spiraling up into the sky, to linger around the top floors of tall buildings.

  “Stay out of the buildings!” Khamsin screamed his orders, understanding then why Ben Raines had so willingly given up so many blocks; but also knowing that the Rebels could not have booby-trapped all the buildings down to their lines.

  Wherever the hell Ben Raines’s lines might be, Khamsin thought bitterly.

  “Stay in the streets and out of the buildings and alleys,” Khamsin ordered, calming himself. “Move through the next five blocks swiftly but carefully.”

  “He’s put it together,” Ben said, lowering his field glasses. “All right, gang, let’s split and leave the field wide open for the bastards.”

  Ben felt something wet touch and slide down his cheek. He looked up at the sky. Snowing again. Marvelous. Anything to help make life miserable for the Blowhole and his mini-farts.

  “What do you find so amusing, Father?” Buddy asked, looking at the smile on Ben’s face.

  “The end to this damn war, son. It’s within our grasp.”

  “Khamsin’s men moving closer, sir,” Dan pointed out. “I suggest we depart as hastily as possible.”

  “In other words, Dan, you want us to carry our asses out of here?”

  “Crudely put, but that sums it all up rather well, yes.”

  “You’re deep in thought, General,” Beth said, breaking the silence in me makeshift office just off 145th Street.

  “I’m about to make one of those semi-famous, so-called ‘command decisions,’ Beth,” he said with a smile. “And if I’m wrong, I’ll be putting us in a bad spot.”

  “If it’ll get us off this frozen island, General,” Jersey said, “I’m for it.”

  “It’ll put us one step closer, that’s for sure. Chuck, get me General Jefferys on scramble.”

  “Go, Eagle,” Cecil’s voice came through the speaker.

  “Bug-out time, Cec. Right now. And make it noisy. I want Khamsin to regain some confidence.”

  “Ben . . .”

  “No bitching, Cec. Has to be. Pack it up and clear the island today. Eagle out.” He glanced up at Buddy. “Take off, boy. You’re leaving with him.”

  “If that is your wish, Father.”

  “It is.” He stood up and shook hands with his son. “I’ll see you in a few days. Go say goodbye to your sister.”

  Buddy quickly gathered his gear and was gone out the door, yelling for his team to pack it up.

  “Chuck, advise the others of General Jefferys’s leaving. And tell Colonel West to be ready to bug out at a moment’s notice.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ben picked up his M14 and walked outside, to stand for a moment on the sidewalk, the snow gently and silently falling around him.

  Beth stepped outside to join him.

  “We can’t wait much longer, Beth,” Ben told her. “We can’t let the bridges get to the point where they become impassable due to snow. Chuck!” he yelled over his shoulder.

  The young man appeared in the broken doorway.

  “Advise the other commanders to fall back to Central Park as soon as Cecil has left his sector. We’ll give Khamsin the upper part of Manhattan. Maybe that will get the lead out of his ass and put some steel into his backbone.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll tell Coop to bring the Blazer around,” Beth said.

  The Rebels began falling back just as Cecil and his battalion were leaving their sector, heading for the bridge and Brooklyn. And they made no effort to hide their withdrawal from any unfriendly eyes that might be watching.

  By dusk, all the Rebels had pulled back to Central Park and were bunkering themselves.

  To the north, a thoroughly confused Khamsin was conferring with his field commanders.

  “We’ve encountered no more booby-trapped buildings?”

  “No, General. None.”

  “No snipers, nothing?”

  “No, General. Nothing to stand in our way.”

  “Except this damnable snow,” Khamsin muttered. “By all that is holy I do not know what Ben Raines is doing. That is not true. I know what he is doing. I do not know why he is doing it.”

  “For sure he is making preparations to leave the island, General.”

  “I know that! But why? Don’t delude yourselves, gentlemen: Ben Raines and his Rebels could easily defeat us in this dreadful place. Surely by now you have all admitted that to yourselves. You may say it aloud. I know it is true.”

  The field commanders all exchanged glances, but they would not speak those words aloud. They had never been defeated. In all their years of roaming the world, they had always been victorious.

  Except for the few times they had butted heads with Ben Raines.

  “We advance first thing in the morning,” Khamsin said wearily. “I must pray for guidance.”

  “I can’t bear to be parted from my precious flower!” Emil wailed, standing in front of Ben in his CP. He threw his arms wide, and his helmet slipped down over his eyes.

  “Emil . . . !”

  “Her voice is like a gentle fragrance. Her lips two rose petals.” He pushed the helmet back up so he could see. �
�Assign me to Danjou’s battalion, General. Please!”

  “Hell, no! Major Danjou would never forgive me. Look, Emil . . .”

  “Michelle is the true love of my life. She is the wind beneath my combat boots. . . .”

  Ben poured a glass of whiskey and drank it down. Neat. He did his best to tune Emil out. It was no use. Emil blithered and blathered and ranted and raved. Ben was afraid he might start speaking in tongues any moment.

  “Emil . . . !”

  “She is my treasure at the end of the rainbow. The light at the end of a long dismal day . . .”

  Ben poured another drink.

  Emil started singing “Bridge over Troubled Water.”

  “That does it,” Ben muttered, and started to rise.

  “Don’t stop me now!” Emil said. “I’m gettin’ to the good part.”

  Ben sat down and rolled a cigarette and smoked and listened. He didn’t want to listen, but short of shooting Emil, he didn’t know what else to do.

  Emil finally finished and sat down. “Help me, General Raines!” he pleaded.

  Ben poured Emil a glass of booze and pushed it toward him. “Have a drink, Emil. I’ll have one with you. Believe me, after that performance, I need one.”

  Emil knocked back the drink and held out his glass for a refill. “That’s good hooch.”

  “Thank you. Now, Emil, listen to me. I know, personally, what you’re going through.”

  “You!”

  “Sure. Don’t you think I’ve ever been rejected?”

  “Did you love her?”

  “I still do, Emil. Just as much as I did yesterday but not as much as I will tomorrow.”

  Emil burst into tears.

  “Now what’s wrong, Emil?”

  Emil honked his nose and wiped his eyes. “What you just said.”

  “What about it?”

  “It was so fucking beautiful I couldn’t hardly stand it!”

  “Thank you.” Ben thought about that for a second. “I think.”

  “But how do you cope with it, Ben? How do you stand it?”

  Ben gave each empty glass another splash. “Emil, let me tell you something. Memories. That’s how I cope with it. I remember all the laughs we had. All the good times. And we did have some good times. A lot of good times. Memories can be beautiful, Emil. I have in my mind a picture of her standing in front of some windows, with the sunlight hitting her. I thought then, and do now, that she is the most beautiful woman in the world.