You

have it to run. And you’ve got Patrice to think about.

You two are talking marriage, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“No buts. It’s settled. I’m going to do some shaking up on this run. Pure volunteer all the way. After we return to Base Camp One, I’ll ask for volunteers and re-form the units.

I’ll take one full battalion and support units. But that’s tomorrow, we’ve still got a lot of fighting facing

us today.”

“You’re letting yourself in for trouble with this volunteer business, Ben.”

“How do you mean?”

was Jerre conducted herself well on the island, didn’t she?”

“After her initial freeze-up, yes, very well.

Why do you ask?”

“What are you going to do should she volunteer?”

“Reject her.”

“On what basis, Ben? You know the way we operate. You made the rules.”

“I have discussed matters with Jerre. She knows how I feel. She won’t volunteer.” still

hope,

he silently added.

The Rebels got a good eight hours’ sleep that night, and upon awakening, each took another short, warm bath; they were beginning to feel human once again as they lined up for their first full breakfast in days.

Striganov sat down at Ben’s table, a worried look on his face.

“What’s the matter, Georgi?”

“I just got word from back home. Trouble. Gangs have resurfaced, stronger than before. Our home guard is holding them at bay, but…” He let that trail off.

“You need to split off and head back?”

“Maybe. But let’s see if we can’t wrap up this nasty business first. What’s happening, Ben?

We destroy one gang of thugs and three more pop up.”

“Everything has broken down, Georgi. There are no rules to follow, no guidelines for the young, no heroes to look up to. Kids who were three and four years old when the Great War came are now seventeen and eighteen years old. And they’ve known nothing except savagery. It was to be expected.

I, too, have trouble.” He told the Russian about his teams being killed in the west.

Georgi was thoughtful for a moment. Then he smiled a grim soldier’s smile. “I think we shall be working together

again, Ben Raines.”

“Very soon.”

“Yes.”

“When I get back to Base Camp One, I’m outfitting one battalion with support.”

“All volunteer?”

“To the last person. There is no telling how long we’ll remain in the field.”

“Ben,” the Russian said softly, for Ben’s ears only. “While we are far from being old men, we are no longer young bucks. The juices still run hot within us, and, God willing, shall continue to do so for many more years. Is that part of the reason you are once more taking to the field?”

Ben smiled. “You sure chose a roundabout way of asking a simple question. Yeah, Georgi, it is.”

“So you will take to the grind of the field in order that she may live in peace and comfort?”

“It isn’t an entirely selfless act,

Georgi. I’m doing what I think is best for both of us. Besides, I like the field.”

“And you think she will never know?”

“Oh, no. She’ll know. Whether she’ll give a damn is up for grabs.”

Georgi refilled their coffee mugs. “I have been blessed in my middle age, Ben. I have found a woman who loves me.” He shrugged

philosophically, and then smiled, a twinkle in his eyes. “But I, too, love the field. So I can both sympathize and empathize with you.” He sighed.

“Well, now that we have discussed matters of the heart-to not much avail-how about your children’s part in this talked-about sojourn into the Wild West?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll both go. Dan will be the first to volunteer. I’d hate to think of him not being there. I couldn’t keep West and his men out of it if I tried. But I think I’ll send them off in a different direction, with a rendezvous point to be determined later.”

“Have you given any thought to this being the same gang of thugs working both countries? Although borders don’t matter much anymore.”

“Itmightbe. If that’s the case, it’s one hell of a big force. And not one that we should take lightly.

Georgi, go ahead and take your people back home.

We can handle this. Besides, I need some firsthand intelligence as to what’s happening out West. Stay in radio contact with me, please.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“Yes. I would imagine your men are worried about their families.”

“To be sure. Ben? With so many women in the Rebels, how do you keep down camp romances?

That’s something that’s puzzled me for some time.”

“I don’t try to keep them down. I’m sure there are a lot of them going on. But they know to keep it discreet, and if they marry, one of them is leaving the field for a noncombat job at some

outpost or base camp. So far it’s worked.”

Georgi nodded his head and sighed. “Well, it’s a long way back home, Ben Raines. Almost three thousand miles. And sitting here isn’t getting us any closer.” He smiled and stuck out his hand.

“I’ll keep in radio contact with you and I’m looking forward to seeing you again, this spring or summer.”

Ben took the offered hand. “Take it easy, friend.

And thanks for all your help.”

Georgi Striganov smiled and left the table, stopping at the table where Rebet and Danjou were having breakfast, and telling them the news. Both of them turned with a smile and tossed Ben a salute.

Ben returned the smile and the salute and watched the three men leave the gym. He mulled over the final casualty reports from the fight in New York.

Seventy dead and more than two hundred wounded. A hundred and fifty of those wounded had been flown back to Base Camp One.

Doctor Holly Allardt had flown back with the last planeload.

He looked up as Tina and Jerre came walking into the large gym for breakfast. Already Ben was experiencing a

sense of loss just looking at Jerre.

Emil abruptly took his mind off Jerre when the little man came running into the gym and threw his arms wide. “My poopsie-whoopsie is leaving!” he wailed. “The light in my life has been forever dimmed. Oh, woe is me!”

“Oh, shit!” Ben muttered.

Ben had found Thermopolis’s eye and motioned for him to please do something with Emil. With a disgusted look on his face, the hippie and several of his friends carried the squalling Emil out of the gym. Ben waggled his finger for Dan to join him.

“As soon as Tina finishes breakfast, Dan, get her and her team on the road north. I want her a full ten miles ahead of us checking things out, all the way up to the bridge.”

“Right, General. Jerre?”

“What about her?”

“She’s rejoined Tina’s team.”

“Always has something to prove.” Ben shook his head.

“Well, it’s her ass. Sure, send her with Tina.”

“I’ll have them gone within the hour.”

“Tell our people we’re leaving at ten o’clock, Dan.”

“Ten-four, General.”

Ben watched as Dan stopped at a table to inform some of his Scouts. The whole group of them burst out singing the old Willie Nelson song “On the Road Again.”

As was his custom before beginning any new campaign, Ben walked the length of the convoy, chatting briefly with each driver and as many of his Rebels as time would allow. The snowing had stopped, the day bright and sunny, the temperature right around the thirty-degree mark, accord -

ing to an old thermometer Ben had found still nailed to the side of a building.

“Tina reports the roads are slick as owl crap,” Ben told one driver. “Even with chains it’s going to be slow going. We won’t make the bridge today. We’re not going to try.”

To another: “Going to be home before spring, Davy.

You can get that garden in.”

Back up the other side of the convoy he walked, his waterproof arctic boots crunching the snow and his breath steaming the air as he spoke to the men and women of the Rebels.

Back in his Blazer, Ben spoke to Cooper.

“Let’s go, Coop. We have miles ahead of us.”

The long column snaked ahead and began to stretch out. Striganov’s columns had pulled out almost two hours before, and the Rebel drivers were following their ruts. Striganov would drive all the way up to the Canadian border, crossing over the St. Lawrence at Montreal.

It was a beautiful day, and the beauty, although barren and void of human life, was not lost on the Rebels, who had been locked between the tall buildings of New York City for week after drab and bleak and dangerous week.

The Rebels saw no signs of human life, but the wildlife had returned: bear and deer were making a dramatic return to their rightful place in the scheme of things. Ben also suspected that behind the deep timber and brush that had overtaken the earth, mutants were watching the long convoy pass. Ben had pretty much left the beastlike creatures alone over the past few years.

Possessing some sort of native intelligence, the huge mutants seemed to understand that Ben would not harm them if they left the humans alone.

So far, it had worked out.

At one time, Rebel scientists had theorized that disease had wiped out the misshapen and grotesque creatures. That had proved to be a false assumption. The mutants were very much a part of the rural landscape. But they stayed well away from humans.

And, Ben thought with a smile, the wolves had returned

over the years, the elusive and magnificent animals once more roaming the timber, doing their part in maintaining the balance within the animal world.

No Rebel shot a wolf. Those orders came from Ben Raines. Only if a person found himself or herself in a life-threatening situation with a wolf was deadly force to be used. And since that never happened, and would never happen if one possessed even the most basic knowledge of and respect for wolves-which all Rebels did, thanks to Ben-the wolf was back, running wild and free, safe from ignorant rednecks and other assorted fools with guns.

Ben knew, from extensive research on the subject, that in the United States, over a hundred-year period, there had never been a documented account of a human ever being attacked by a healthy, full-grown wolf-without the human provoking the attack. Ben had always believed that if Little Red Riding Hood was eaten by a wolf, she probably started the incident by poking the wolf in the eye with a stick.

There had been many changes in the treatment of wildlife since Ben started ramrodding the show.

Animals were still hunted for food, but only if absolutely necessary, and never for sport. Kids were taught in school-from the earliest grades-to respect wildlife. Theirs was a natural place in the scheme of things. Given enough land to roam and hunt, animals would take care of animals without human interference.

And as long as Ben was alive, humans would not interfere.

The Rebels spent the night in the deserted town of Croton-on-Hudson. Tina and her team had made a fast but thorough inspection of the town.

“It doesn’t appear that human life has existed in this place for years, Dad,” she told him.

“It’s just like every town we’ve inspected on this run-nothing. No dogs, no cats, nothing.”

“They’ve gone back to the wild, Tina. They’re seeing us, but we’re not seeing them. And only the toughest of dog breeds have survived. The working breeds probably

made it by feeding on the smaller, pampered breeds.

It isn’t cruel, it’s just the way it is.

Animals don’t kill for sport,

girl. Only man kills for sport. How about the bridge up ahead?”

“It’s okay, structurally. But it’s going to be tough to cross unless we can find some snow blades to hook onto our trucks and plow a lane open.”

“We’ll get on that in the morning; find a state highway department building and start rigging the trucks. You find us a place for the night?”

“Several of them. School, gym, motels-the whole town is ours.”

Ben squatted in the snow and watched as several trucks, now equipped with snow blades, carved a lane down the center of the bridge. Slowly the convoy made their way across the Hudson River and once more began their trek. By nightfall, they had only traveled twenty-five miles. The roads were several feet deep in snow. Tina’s team had been forced to rejoin the main column and let the snowplows forge ahead, plowing a path for the vehicles. In many cases, had it not been for the old, for the most part wireless power poles, they would not have been able even to find the road as it twisted and turned through the deep snow.

The column had to travel many miles before they could turn back south, since sections of the New York State Thruway had been destroyed.

When they did finally cut south, using state and county roads, the traveling was even slower.

“At this pace,” Dan said, “we just might lose our quarry. They might get tired of waiting and start to wonder if perhaps we all were on those ships.”

“Possibly,” Ben acknowledged. “If so, we’ll meet them another day. But I think they’re still just about where we left them. South of the city, probably.”

The men turned as the last of the vehicles began pulling into camp for that night. Thermopolis and his people had been forced to find big tractor-trailer rigs with flatbeds and

chain down and transport their VW’S that way; the snow was just too deep for the Bugs and many of the vans.

The hippies were not about to give up their VW’S. That would be as unthinkable as cutting their hair or shaving.

“Enjoying the sightseeing?” Ben asked, as Thermopolis and some of his group walked up.

“Actually, yes. The scenery is breathtaking. And the air is so clean. Ben Raines, what do you people do with your garbage?”

“We bury it so the earth can once more claim it.”

“Goddamn walking

contradictionea8Thermopolismuttered as he went his way. “Shoots every human being in sight and worries about the environment. Blows up entire cities and protects the wolves. Jesus Christ!”

“How’s Emil?” Ben called.

Thermopolis turned around, a bleak look on his face. “In mourning. He says if he could find some sackcloth he’d wear it. He’s already sprinkled ashes on his head. I don’t think he realizes that sackcloth was originally made of goats’ hair. Come to think of it, I might mention that to him.”

“Please don’t. He’ll go out hunting goats and get lost.”

“Yes. There is that to consider. Both pro and con.”

He turned to leave.

“Look after him, Therm. Remember, his heart has been broken.”

“Thank you so very much, Ben Raines. Your faith in me is very nearly overwhelming.”

Dan lifted a map. “We should reach Highway Seventeen sometime tomorrow. That will take us to the New York Thruway, then on into New Jersey. Each day the sun shines, the going becomes a bit easier.