Alone in the Ashes ta-5

by William W. Johnstone

  “Oh, seven or eight hundred thousand, I would imagine.”

  “Where in the hell did they all go?” she once more flung, the question to the winds.

  Ben let the winds take it. He sure didn’t know the answer.

  Chapter 32

  They rolled through Jackpot, Nevada, at midmorning. A short time later, Ben radioed back to Rani.

  “The old Tri-States, Rani. Welcome to a bit of history.”

  “Jesus, Ben! It’s cold.”

  “It’s also something else,” he reminded her.

  “What?”

  “Christmas.”

  She was silent for half a mile, the tires humming on the concrete. “You’re right. My God, I had completely forgotten. Merry Christmas, darling.”

  Ben knew they would encounter few, if any, people in the old Tri-States. While many had tried to move into the area, almost all had either left very quickly or been killed, for the Rebels had booby-trapped hundreds, thousands, of cars, trucks, homes. They had mined the timber and placed explosives in empty buildings. They had blown bridges and overpasses, poisoned a lot of the water sources.

  The Rebels knew what had been rigged to blow. The Rebels knew what water was safe to drink. The Rebels knew what to touch and what to leave alone. The Rebels knew where guns and ammo and explosives were cached.

  No one else did.

  Ben led the way north at a fast clip. He was home. He had masterminded the Tri-States, and knew the highway system as well as he knew his right and left hands.

  When they crossed Interstate 86, Ben traveled some twenty-odd miles and pulled over at a house he remembered. A close friend of Ben’s had lived in this ranch-style home. He, his wife, and their three kids had been killed by government troops during the assault of the Tri-States.

  “Stay in the truck,” Ben told Rani. “And I mean, stay in the truck.”

  She did not have to be told again.

  Consulting a thick ledger, Ben moved around the home, neutralizing the traps. He cautiously entered the home and cut the trip wires. He lifted the top of the range in the kitchen and removed a half-pound of explosives. Smiling, he walked back outside and waved Rani in.

  “It’s safe now,” he assured her. “Everything’s been neutralized.”

  She looked at the mass of explosives in his hands. “Are you sure?”

  He laughed at her. “Positive. Go on in and start setting up for the night. Firewood is stacked by the fireplace. It’s dry, but it’ll give us a good, quick, hot fire. I’m going to find us something.”

  “What?”

  Ben grinned. “A Christmas tree, darling.”

  The first of Jake Campo’s teams arrived in the old Tri-States.

  “Spooky,” one of the men observed. “Where the hell is all the people?”’

  “Yeah,” another outlaw said, looking around him. “Man, we ain’t seen nobody since crossing the state line.”

  “Weird,” the leader of the team agreed. He spotted a nice home sitting just off the highway. “We’ll bunk over there for tonight. I ain’t never seen so many nice houses.”

  “I was told that in the Tri-States you had to keep your place lookin” good. If you didn’t mow the lawn, people would come in and mow it for you—then send you the bill!”

  “It don’t make no difference, no more,” the leader said. “There ain’t no more Tri-States and pretty soon there ain’t gonna be no more Ben Raines, neither.”

  He opened the front door. It was not locked, since the former residents of Tri-States had never locked their doors or taken the keys out of their cars or trucks (remember, folks, always take the keys out of the ignition. Don’t let a good boy go bad)!

  The opening of the door tripped an acid-delay switch, tipping the glass vial to allow the acid to eat through a thin wire.

  The entire team of Campo’s outlaws crowded into the den of the home.

  “Nice place,” one said. “Lookie there!” He pointed. “Farwood all stacked up and ready for us to burn.”

  The wire parted with a soft ping.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “Your imagination, probably. Come on. Let’s get settled in and fix some grub.”

  Fifteen pounds of high explosives blew. One entire wall collapsed on the outlaws; beams fell from the ceiling, crushing the life from two of the outlaws. One man crawled out of the wreckage of the home, pulling himself along with his hands. Both his legs were broken.

  He passed out from the pain.

  He would be frozen stiff by morning.

  Another team rolled into what had been southern Wyoming before Ben Raines and his Rebels renamed the entire area the Tri-States, years back.

  The outlaws spotted a lovely rock home sitting on a hill. That would be ideal for a headquarters. Or a grave. They settled in and built a roaring fire in the fireplace. Had they been just a bit more observant, they might have noticed the logs were too heavy for wood that had been allowed to dry, inside, for almost two years.

  The logs had been hollowed out and packed full of extremely high explosives. The explosives would detonate after reaching the temperature of ninety degrees.

  When the fireplace blew, the impact scattered debris-wood, brick, stone, and various parts of human bodies-all over the small hill.

  Another team of outlaws came down from the north,

  into Montana. They thought it would be amusing to spend the night in what had once been Ben Raines’ residence.

  Their amusement was very short-lived.

  Ben had deliberately left sealed tins of what was labeled pure water on the kitchen counter, along with sealed tins of emergency rations. The water was poisoned and so was the food.

  Ben and his Rebels, just before the government assault on Tri-States had begun, had warned the government that if they chose to interfere with a peaceful way of life, they would soon discover what Hell must be like.

  The outlaws ate and drank their fill, and then died horribly, their bodies and faces and hands swelling and blackening in death.

  Another group of Texas Red’s boys found a small, very intimate cocktail lounge where, by golly, the bar was still stocked with sealed bottles of booze. They had a high ol’ time and got rip-roaring drunk. They didn’t notice the slight sweet fragrance coming from the bottles of whiskey.

  Poison.

  One by one they closed their eyes. One by one they went to sleep. One by one they slumped to the floor. One by one … they died.

  “Anything?” Jake asked his radio operator. “Nothin’, Big Jake. Not a peep. And they was callin’ in regular “til yesterday.”

  Again, Big Jake Campo felt a shiver of fear touch him. He knew, he knew the boys were dead. But how in the hell had Raines managed to do it? How had he found them out so soon? And how in the hell could one man and one woman kill so many so quickly? Jesus Flipping Christ!

  Jake looked into Texas Red’s eyes. He saw open fear there.

  “We can’t quit now,” Jake said, after taking the man’s elbow and leading him away from the other men. “We got to go on.”

  “I don’t like it,” Texas Red honestly admitted his fear. “I’m scared, man. And I mean, really, fucking scared!”

  “Get a grip on yourself. Goddamnit, he’s just one man. One man!”

  “Is he?” Red asked.

  “Is he what?”’

  “Is Ben Raines just a mortal man?”

  Jake Campo opened his mouth to cuss the outlaw, then closed it. He walked away. Dammit it to hell-he didn’t know. He just plain didn’t know!

  Ben had found some old popcorn and, together, they popped the corn and dyed it all different colors, using food coloring from the kitchen pantry.

  Rani found some thread and strung the brightly colored popcorn around the small tree Ben had cut.

  But something was missing.

  Rani said, “You take that end of the house, Ben. And I’ll take the other. You find something for me, and I’ll find something for you. We have to have some prese
nts under the tree.”

  Giggling and laughing like children, they went their ways and each returned with a gift, Rani’s wrapped in a piece of old grocery bag, Ben’s wrapped in a piece of newspaper.

  They put them under the tree and began preparing dinner. They ate Crations by candle light and then opened their gifts.

  Ben had found a pair of diamond earrings for her, and she had found a pocket watch for him. She fitted the earrings and Ben wound the old watch.

  “Perfect Christmas,” Ben said.

  Chapter 33

  Jake Campo sat straight up in his blankets. He knew what had gotten his boys, and it hadn’t been Ben Raines.

  Throwing his blankets aside, he jerked on his boots and ran to the communications truck, startling the sleepy man.

  “Get the boys on the horn!” he snapped. “Right now.”

  His teams contacted, Jake said, “Stay out of the homes, the bars, the buildings. Don’t touch nothing. Everything is booby-trapped. I “member somebody telling me about it. You guys copy all this?”

  “Yeah. When you gonna get here?”

  “Soon,” Jake radioed. “Real soon. For now, you guys hunt a hole and stay put.”

  He told Texas Red what had gone down. “You see, Red. Raines ain’t no god. But I tell you what he’s gonna be, real soon.”

  “What?”

  “Goddamn dead!”

  The morning after Christmas, Ben and Rani pulled out and headed north. Before leaving, Ben had loaded both trucks with as much emergency gear as possible, including ammunition and explosives from one of many hidden caches.

  “Where are we going, Ben?” Rani asked.

  “Into the wilderness area. We’ll winter there and set up traps for Campo and his crud.”

  “Are you going to call Colonel Gray and ask him to send in help?”

  “Nope.”

  “We were awfully lucky down in Texas, Ben. But you know luck has a nasty habit of running out. Usually at the worst of times.”

  “This is something I have to do by myself, Rani. If you want to help, fine. If not, I can call in and have a team come and get you. It’s all up to you.”

  “You know I’m staying with you right to the end, Ben. But why is this so important to you?”

  “Call it macho, male pride, stubborn, stupid; it’s probably a mixture of all those things. It’s …”

  Ben seemed to be at a loss for words.

  “It’s for Jordy, isn’t it, Ben?”

  “Yes.”

  She took his hand. “Then we’ll do it together.”

  They drove until the paved roads ran out. Then Ben off-loaded the supplies from Rani’s truck and carefully hid the vehicle and his small trailer. With Rani by his side, Ben drove deep into what had been known as the Boise National Forest, to the southern branch of the Middle Fork Salmon. It took them three days to get all the supplies to the cabin deep in the timber.

  She noticed Ben kept looking up at the sky.

  “Ben, I know you’re checking the skies for snow warnings. But even if it snows ten feet, you’re leaving a trail a blind man could follow. Broken limbs and marked trees that the truck has rubbed against. You’ve deliberately tossed crap on the ground. You want them to find us, don’t you?”

  “I want them to know I’ve gone into the deep timber, yes. Finding our exact location is something else, though. You’ve seen the placement of that cabin, Rani. You know a person could walk within fifty feet of it and not see it unless they knew exactly where to look. Ike built it, years ago. Well, that’s not entirely true. He found what was left of it and renovated it. I’m going to stash you in the cabin and leave the truck some miles from the cabin. While I’m backtracking to the cabin, I’ll begin setting up traps.”

  “Ben,” she said with great patience, “you could call in Colonel Gray and his Scouts and be done with this matter in no time.”

  “Of course I could.” He smiled grimly. “But it’s much more personally satisfying this way.”

  “And men say women are complicated.”

  The snug little cabin was built against a rather large hill, or a small mountain, as Rani called it. Only a small part of the cabin showed; the rest was part of the terrain itself, with the back rooms built into the earth. Ike was convinced that outlaws had built the place, back during the wild west days. Trees hid the cabin, the trees so close to the small porch they could be touched while sitting on the porch.

  The cabin had a large combination den and kitchen. One big bedroom with a small fireplace. The smoke from both fireplaces was angled out into the rear, toward the cave at the back of the cabin, finally filtering out only-God-knew-where-probably miles away.

  Part of the cave was used as a storage area. Ike had followed the cave for, as he put it, “One hell of an uncomfortable distance.” He had followed it until it branched off in three different directions, becoming so narrow and small a cat would have trouble getting through.

  So Ben and Rani were safe from the rear, from both sides, and from above.

  Ben and Rani worked three full days cutting and hauling and stacking wood for the fireplaces, most of the wood coming from downed trees. They only cut green wood when absolutely necessary. They filled up the storage area with enough wood to last them the winter, for the cabin was very snug, built as it was into the hill.

  Ben killed two deer and dried most of the meat, storing it. For the first time in weeks, he and Rani enjoyed fresh meat, Rani fixing a roast for several meals, and a stew out of the rest.

  The first of the new year, the weather turned rough, with cold winds and rain that quickly turned into sleet and then snow.

  When they awakened on the second day of January, they were snowed in tight.

  Chapter 34

  Jake Campo stood in the blowing snow, his big hands balled into fists. He stood looking first to the north, then at the obvious clues standing out like neon signs.

  “He’s baiting us,” Texas Red said. “He’s daring us to come after him.”

  “That’s the way I read it, too,” Jake agreed. “Throwing down the glove and challenging us to pick it up.”

  “Huh?” Red said.

  Jake looked at the man. Dumb son of a bitch! he thought. “All right, boys. You start cuttin” sign,” he ordered a dozen men. “Rest of you make damn sure the trucks and jeeps are ready to go. Can’t nothin’ but a four-wheel make it in there. This weather ain’t gonna last. They’ll be blizzards and then it’ll warm up enough for us to move. We might be able to move one day and be holed up for a week. But we’re gonna get Ben Raines. This time, we’re gonna get him.”

  Ben radioed in to Base Camp One and gave Cecil his map coordinates on scramble. “Ike’s hidey-hole,” he told them.

  Ike grinned at the message. “Man, he’s way back in the timber. It’d take a full battalion to dig them out of there. Shit. I stashed enough ammo back there to fight a whole war.”

  “I think we should contact Colonel Gray,” Gale said.

  “No,” Cecil nixed that. “If Ben wants Dan in on this, he’ll contact him. I get the feeling this is, well, personal with Ben.”

  None of them liked it, but that was the way it was going to be.

  Ben told them about Sam Hartline and the Russian.

  Gale tensed at the news. Her dark eyes filled with hatred at Ben’s report.

  Tina put her hand on the smaller woman’s shoulder.

  “We’re going to have to do something about that situation,” Ben concluded his report. “Just as soon as I can pinpoint the location, we’ll begin making plans to put an end to the obscenity. Raines out.”

  Ben turned his set off before Base Camp One had a chance to say anything else.

  “It’s a vendetta,” Gale said. “It’s for and because of that little boy.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Ike said. “But you’re right. Some of the people who brought that bunch of kids back said they’d never seen anything like the sight of those bodies Ben piled up around that old hous
e. I’d hate to be in those outlaws’ boots when they do catch up with Ben.”

  Ben stepped out on the small porch. Under a clear blue sky, the land lay white and cold before him. Ben’s lips curved in a warrior’s smile as he lifted his eyes above the tree line.

  Smoke from half a dozen fires plumed into the sky. They were miles away. But there they were, lines of silvery gray lancing into the blue.

  He called Rani outside and pointed to the smoke.

  “So they’re here,” she said.

  “No,” Ben corrected. “They’re there. A long way from finding this place.” He smiled. “They’ll be stumbling around the deep timber for a week. And taking heavy losses as they do.”

  “From your traps?”

  “And from me. Did you finish with those sheets yet?”

  She sighed. “Yes. But I don’t like it, Ben.”

  “I used to fish in this area, Rani. Back when we knew some semblance of peace. Before the central government elected to make war against us. I fished up here many times, with Ike and Pal and Cecil.” And with our wives, he thought in silent memory. Salina, Lila, Valerie, Megan. All dead. Most of them never buried. Their monuments the majesty of the timber where they lay. “I know this land, Rani. Know it well.”

  She had picked up on Ben’s hesitation. She opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it. Sometimes old memories are best left alone.

  “Come on,” she said, tugging at his arm. “Let’s see how good a seamstress I am.”

  Rani had taken insulated coveralls and cut and sewn a snow suit over the coveralls, making it out of bed sheets. Using white shoe polish, Ben had made snow boots out of insulated hunting boots. His small pack was also covered with white fabric, as were his web belt, canteens, and ammo pouches.

  “When are you leaving, Ben?”

  “An hour before first light in the morning. I want to watch the smoke today, try to judge where they’re going.”

  She smiled despite her fears. “Then let’s make it a memorable evening, General.”

  “Delighted, Miss Jordan.”

  “Ms.”

  “But of course.”

  Jake Campo squatted in front of a roaring fire, trying his best to get warm while his men struggled with tarps and tents. He looked over at Texas Red. They touched glances and understood each other.