Death in the Ashes

by William W. Johnstone

  “You didn’t answer my question, Larry.”

  “I ain’t gonna answer it, Raines. I’m gonna leave you wonderin’ about that.”

  “I won’t wonder about it for very long, Larry . . . if that is your name. My back trail is lined with dead men.”

  “My name is Charles Lawrence Matthews. Put that on my marker, punk.” He looked up at Buddy as his right hand dropped out of sight.

  Ben put his hand on the .45 lying on the table, cocked and locked.

  “Why me?” Buddy asked.

  “’Cause Raines is dead!” he shouted, and leaped forward, a boot knife in his hand.

  Ben shot him twice in the chest, the slugs driving him back. The biker staggered out the open door and fell to the ground, dead.

  Ben leaned back in his chair. “Buddy, find the Rebel who searched this man. And give him a shovel. Tell him to start to work. He’s got a lot of graves to dig.”

  12

  With Greely under firm control of the Rebels, and only hours away from being destroyed, Ben and his troops moved up the Interstate to Fort Collins and watched as the planes carrying supplies from the base camp began arriving.

  The newly arrived replacements were assigned and the badly wounded Rebels, along with the freed prisoners, were flown back to Base Camp One.

  Ben drove back to Greely just as the survivors were leaving, the trucks loaded with lumber, bricks, and other articles that might be useful in the future.

  “Bring it down,” Ben ordered.

  A light rain was falling as the small city went under the Rebel torch. As he stood back and watched the city burn, Ben then ordered every town within a twenty-mile radius of Loveland to be picked clean, the materials inventoried and warehoused, and then to be destroyed.

  Ben and his Rebels pulled out for Cheyenne, Wyoming, at dawn, prepared to fight their way through. They did not see one sign of human life during their run of fifty-odd miles. The old Interstate stretched out before them, barren. Buddy and his rat team ranged twenty miles ahead of the main column, reporting back by radio every fifteen minutes. They had nothing to report over the two hours it took the convoy to reach the outskirts of Cheyenne.

  It appeared to be a dead city.

  But Ben wasn’t buying that. A little warning bell kept going off in his head. He waved Buddy to his side.

  “Take your team and skirt the city. There was a SAC base here before the war. See what’s left of it.” He waved Tina to him. “Take this old highway here, Tina, and check out Laramie County Community College. Take some trucks with you. We’ll try to salvage all the books we can and fly them back with the other books we’ve found during our next resupply.”

  The Rebels saved knowledge much like a squirrel stores away nuts. The book repositories at Base Camp One were very likely the largest in the world. Ben had people who did nothing but oversee the preservation and restoration of books.

  Dan walked up to Ben. “I don’t like it,” the Englishman said bluntly.

  “Nor do I, Dan. I’m getting some funky vibes from this city.”

  “Funky?” Dan said with smile. “That word dates us both, General.”

  Ben laughed. “Hell, Dan, I still remember cool and hip.”

  The men squatted down on the Interstate and waited.

  “Tina reporting the college has been looted and trashed,” Corrie informed the men. “But many of the books are salvageable.”

  “Load them up and bring them back. Any signs of recent habitation?”

  “Ten-four, sir. The unmistakable odor of creepies.”

  Ben and Dan both cursed the Night People. Ben said, “Send an additional platoon of Rebels to both Scout teams, Corrie. Advise Rat and Tina they are on the way.”

  “Ten-four, sir.”

  “You think they’re in hiding, General?” Dan asked.

  “Yes. Hoping that we’ll not detect them and just bypass the city.”

  “However . . . ?”

  “They’re in for a very rude shock.”

  “Reinforcements on the way,” Corrie said.

  Ben nodded, his eyes on the hazy outline of the city. “Contact Rat and Tina on scramble and tell them to start digging in. As soon as the additional troops arrive and their positions are secure, I’ll start the push from the south.”

  He waited until Corrie had relayed that, as he studied a map of Cheyenne, and said, “Main battle tanks prepare to spearhead at my orders, followed by the Dusters. Ramos and Brad will cut off at 80 under the command of Dan, half the tanks with them. I’ll take command of Companies C and D and the remainder of the tanks and drive toward the center of the city. I’m going to push straight through to the middle of town and assess the situation.”

  “Ten-four, sir.”

  “Get in position, Dan.”

  “See you at the airport, General.”

  “Keep an eye out for prisoners, Dan.”

  “Right.”

  Ben stood up and waved Corrie into the Blazer, climbing in behind her as soon as she was settled in the specially built rear compartment, so three could still sit comfortably despite all the equipment.

  “Let’s go, Coop. Swing in behind the tanks.”

  As soon as Dan veered off onto Interstate 80 toward Holiday Park and Ben’s command roared toward the heart of the city, Ben’s radio blared the news.

  “Under heavy attack,” Buddy radioed.

  “They’re coming out of the woodwork, Dad,” Tina radioed.

  “If you don’t think you can hold, fall back,” Ben told them.

  “We’ll hold,” they both assured him.

  Ben halted his contingent on Sixteenth Street and spread them out, while the tanks started to work on the lower floors of the ravaged-appearing buildings.

  The old Atlas Theatre, long a national historic site, had been gutted by fire, as had several buildings close to it.

  Dark, hooded shapes flitted about the charred interior of the old theatre. Ben lifted his M14 and knocked several of them sprawling. A tank commander shifted the muzzle of his 105 and finished whatever else might have been alive in the ruins.

  “Lob a couple of grenades into the basement of that building,” Ben told Cooper, pointing to the building right behind them. “Let’s see what happens.”

  Cooper tossed two Fire-Frags through a broken window and they all went belly-down on the sidewalk. The exploding Frags brought howls and wild shriekings of pain. Beth crawled over to a smoking basement window and shoved the muzzle of her M16 through the hole, giving the creepies a full clip. The shrieking stopped.

  “Colonel Gray says he’s found the prisoners, General,” Corrie told him. “In a warehouse.”

  “Tell him to ask the prisoners if any others are being held elsewhere in the city.”

  “Negative to any further prisoners in the city. That’s firm.”

  Ben took the mike. “Raines to all tank commanders and self-propelled mortar crew chiefs. My command is driving toward the airport. At my signal, start using Willie Peter and incendiary rounds. Dan, you hold what you’ve got; we’re going to box the city as best we can and bring it down.”

  “Affirmative, General.”

  “You read me, Rat, Tina?”

  “Ten-four, Eagle.”

  “Let’s go, Cooper.”

  The self-propelled mortar carriers left the original position on the outskirts of town and began circling and getting into position. With the tanks leading the way, Ben’s unit began barreling toward the airport, with every gun they could use hammering out lead.

  The creeps had automatic weapons, but nothing that could punch through the armor plate on the tanks and trucks and Ben’s Blazer. Cooper swerved to avoid a thrown grenade and the concussion as they passed nearly lifted the Blazer off the right-side tires.

  “Miserable cannibalistic bastards!” Ben muttered.

  “Take 85 right up ahead, tanks,” Cooper radioed, after glancing at an old street map of the city. “That’ll take us right to the airport. Did you hear that, Coop
er?”

  “I heard, I heard!”

  “Just past the airport, cut right. That’ll be Prairie Avenue.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Cooper muttered, just as a hard burst of lead whined off the armor plate of the Blazer, causing everyone inside to wince.

  Then a burst of fire knocked out a rear tire. Cooper fought the wheel as he struggled to maintain the same speed. The ride turned very bumpy.

  “We’re almost there, Coop,” Ben told him.

  “You all right, General?” Ben’s speaker talked to him.

  “Ten-four. Getting our innards shook up some, that’s all. Cut over, tanks. Start lining up over there next to those mortar crews on the north side of this street.”

  Ben bailed out of the Blazer as it lurched to a stop, and he grabbed his mike while the others scrambled out. “All units report in if clear of the city.”

  They were clear. Buddy and Tina were still hard-fighting it, but holding.

  Ben turned to Corrie, standing by his side. “Are the units in place around the outskirts?”

  She nodded her head.

  “Bring the city down,” he ordered.

  From both the north and south limits of the city, the 81mm mortars and the 105s began blasting, dropping in Willie Peter and incendiary.

  “Creepies bugging out.” Buddy’s report came right on the heels of Tina’s radioing in.

  Smoke began pouring into the sky as what was once the capital of Wyoming began burning.

  As the creepies raced from the burning city, many were chopped down from the units of Rebels scattered around the outskirts. The light rain had long since stopped and a bright sun was warming the land as the city burned and the creepies died.

  Ben pounded the city for an hour before calling for a cease-fire. He glanced at his watch. Not yet noon. A lot of history had died in only a few hours, and that wasn’t to Ben’s liking. But this way was the safest for his people, and the quickest.

  “Mount up,” he ordered. “Scouts out on Interstate 80, westbound. We’re heading for Laramie.”

  “We wondered what was going on, General,” the man said as he shook Ben’s hand. “We could sure see the smoke rising.”

  Buddy had found several hundred survivors living in Laramie.

  “There used to be more of us,” the spokesperson explained. “But the outlaws and bikers and the warlords are striking us nearly every week. They’ve taken their toll,” he added grimly.

  “You’re sure this is where you want to settle?” Ben asked.

  “We’re sure, General.”

  Ben nodded. “Corrie, get the base on the horn. Tell them to get a team of Rebels up here and to resupply us and prepare to take back those we liberated. And send the books back, too. We’re getting top-heavy.”

  “You’ve really cleared Colorado?” another settler asked.

  “No,” Ben quickly corrected that. “We’ve cleaned out a few towns and cities, and managed to dispose of several hundred outlaws. But cleaning out just one state is going to be a massive undertaking. It’s important we get as many outposts set up as possible. Once we’re linked in that manner, able to resupply units in the field quickly, the job will become much easier.”

  The Rebels stayed in Laramie for several days, resting, loafing, working, and seeing to equipment needs. Ben sent out patrols, north and west, and soon became acutely aware of just what he and his Rebels faced.

  There were bands of outlaws and bikers and warlords all over the state. Some of them numbered no more than ten or twelve; some numbered several hundred.

  And the city of Casper was filled with Night People. Rawlins was a haven for a huge outlaw gang that terrorized the southern part of the state.

  “We take Rawlins first,” Ben said.

  “Destroy it?” Dan said.

  “No. I’d rather not. I’d like to set up an outpost there if at all possible. It’s about a hundred miles from Laramie, and that’s an ideal distance between outposts. We’ll take the town building by building.”

  “There are many families along the way,” Ben was told. “Good decent people. But they’re forced to live in forts because of the outlaws. We’re in radio contact with most of them. I’ll advise that you’re on the way and for them to get ready to resettle—if they want to. And I think they will.”

  First reports back from the besieged families along the way indicated they would be more than happy to relocate.

  “Fine,” Ben said. “We’ll put out in the morning.”

  Ben soon found out that these people were not about to be driven off by outlaws. Their will was strong, but they were going about the task of surviving the wrong way—at least under present conditions. They wanted wide-open spaces between them, and that just wasn’t feasible. Not yet. They were too vulnerable to attack.

  “We’ll clear out everything from Fort Steele to Rawlins,” Ben said after carefully studying a map of the area. “Or to make it easier, from the Continental Divide back to Fort Steele. Everything in a twenty-mile radius, north, south, and back east. At least for a start. More as time goes on.”

  “And from Rawlins?” Corrie asked, to stay on top of things.

  “We’ll take Highway 287 to Muddy Gap, then 220 up to Casper. We won’t destroy that city either. We’ll set up an outpost there. Once that’s done, the settlers can start cleaning out from the points of the rough triangle inward. We can have hundreds and hundreds of square miles of clean territory.”

  “And we’re going to do this in every state?” Beth asked.

  “Yes. Europe will have to wait. We’ve got to clean up our own act first.”

  “Folks just outside of Arlington want to talk to you, Dad,” Tina informed him.

  “That’s ten-four.” Ben glanced at his watch. “We’ll be there within the hour.”

  “I’ll tell you flat out, General,” the rancher told Ben. “I don’t like some of your rules. But you and your bunch is carryin’ the load in this war, so I’ll be willing to live under them and not bitch about it . . . much,” he added with a smile.

  Ben laughed. “I’d be very wary of any type of government that claimed to be perfect, my friend. And we’re far from perfect. Good to have you with us.” Ben stuck out his hand and the man took it.

  They spent an hour discussing Ben’s plans, with Ben agreeing to some of the rancher’s own plans and ideas. The Rebels pulled out with Ben once more having that good feeling that the light at the end of that long, long tunnel toward restoration of the nation was shining just a little bit brighter.

  The Rebels spent the night near Fort Steele. As yet they had seen no sign of outlaws, and neither had any of the settlers they had spoken with.

  Buddy’s Rat Team had advanced to within a mile of Rawlins, with not a shot being fired from either side.

  “They’re in there,” Buddy radioed back. “We can see cook fires all over the place.”

  “Estimates?” Ben asked.

  “Several hundred, at least. I’d suspect more than that. I think the outlaws have massed in the town; that would probably account for us not having encountered any of them on this run.”

  “I agree with him,” Dan said. “Since we don’t know how many, if any, prisoners are being held, it’s going to be a tough fight. Are you planning an end-around?”

  “No. We’ll go in from the east and take them on nose to nose.”

  “I’ll make it clear to the lads and lassies that they’d better be in body armor.”

  “Yes. Order a full inspection for the morning. Main battle tanks will spearhead again. Try to keep the destruction down to a minimum; we want to save as much of the town as possible.”

  “Rat on the horn,” Corrie told him.

  Ben took the mike. “Go, Rat.”

  “They have mortars, Father. And plenty of them.”

  Ben acknowledged that and turned to Dan. “They’ll cream us if we wait until dawn to strike. So attack, Dan. Now!”

  13

  The Rebels jumped into action, rolling wit
hin two minutes, the tanks spearheading the column at full speed. The outlaws worked frantically to get the mortars set up and get the range, but the column was moving too fast, and the main battle tanks were too awesome and carried too much firepower. They cut loose with everything they had and crashed through the now-bloody roadblocks, the treads of the fifty-ton tanks crushing the life out of any who were unable to move out of the way.

  Dusters were right behind the bigger tanks, their 40mm cannon and twin-mounted machine guns spitting out rapid death as they roared toward the center of town.

  The Rebels mauled and mangled the outlaws, knocking them back half a dozen blocks before the crud could recover and try to throw up some sort of defense. At best, it was only a halfhearted attempt now that they had been hammered so severely and so swiftly with massively superior firepower and troops.

  Many ran for their motorcycles and cars and trucks and hauled ass out of Rawlins, with most of them heading west. Ben ordered no pursuit; first on his priority list was cleaning out the town.

  “Circle the town,” Ben ordered. “Fire barrels on every street and keep them burning throughout the night. Company A to the north, B to the south, C to the west, D to the east. No one leaves their perimeter because the passwords will be different in every sector. Rat team and Tina’s team will be with Dan and me checking the town. Let’s do it, people!”

  “General,” Beth said, reading an old information packet about the small city. “It says here that there is an old prison located in town, in use from 1903 until 1982. A new prison was build just south of the town then. I bet if there are any prisoners, they’re being held in one of those two places.”

  “Good bet, Corrie. Let’s check out the old prison first.”

  “You ain’t takin’ none of us, Raines!” came the defiant shout from behind the thick walls of the old prison. “We got the prisoners as hostages.”

  Ben got a bullhorn from the Blazer and laid it on the line to the outlaws. “I don’t negotiate with crud. Ever. Release the prisoners.”

  “Fuck you, Raines. We’ll kill them all!”