do not

enter the town. If there are creepies, leave them alone unless the creepies make the first move.”

She looked at Ben, questions in her eyes. She nodded her head and relayed the orders.

West, too, had questions in his eyes, but they remained unspoken.

“Let’s get our dead cremated and the wounded made ready for travel.”

With creepies all over the place they had all agreed that cremation was the only logical way to treat any Rebel dead.

“Jerre, bump Katzman and tell him to contact Base Camp One. Send some planes up here for the wounded. We’ll wait at Grafton until after the birds have taken the wounded on board, and then we’ll move on.”

“Yes, sir.”

The convoy made the short run to Grafton and found the town a deserted death town-but only recently so.

The signs and smells of creepies were all over the place.

Mutilated bodies lay about the streets.

“Burn them,” Ben ordered. “And then stand down for the night.”

“What’s Ben got in his mind?” Thermopolis asked Tina, after the dead were collected and burned.

“I don’t know. He’s not talking and I’m not going to push him on it.”

“Probably a wise choice.”

Ben remained mostly by himself and very taciturn the rest of the day and all that night. He would occasionally walk over to the building where Monte and his men were being kept under guard, to stand and stare at them.

“You wanna deal, General?” Monte would ask each time Ben came over, the words mushy coming out of his busted mouth.

Ben would always mutter a low curse and turn his back to the man.

The planes began landing during the early morning hours and picking up the wounded Rebels.

Dan informed Ben that Clarksburg was filled with creepies. But they had made no move toward the Rebels, and the Rebels were leaving them alone as ordered.

“Keep it that way,” Ben told him.

By eight o’clock in the morning, all the wounded had been transported out.

“Let’s roll,” Ben ordered. “All personnel out of the airport area. Link up on the Interstate and wait for me there.”

The Rebels dismounted and stood on the Interstate, watching as Ben and his contingent stayed on Highway 50 and escorted Monte and his men to the city limits.

“Get them out of the trucks,” Ben ordered.

On the pavement, Monte looked around nervously.

“What the hell are you gonna do, Raines?” he demanded. “If you’re gonna shoot us, get it the hell done.”

“I have no intention of shooting you,” Ben told the

warlord. “Strip!”

“Do what?” Monte screamed.

“Strip, you bastards! I want the creepies to see what’s coming up for lunch.”

“You can’t do this to us!” Monte yelled.

Ben’s reply was a tight smile.

“I ain’t a-gonna do it,” a man said.

Ben glanced at Dan. “Strip them and hogtie them.”

Using rifle and pistol butts for clubs, the Rebels knocked the men down and stripped them naked, tying them up, leaving them on the cold concrete.

Monte lay on the highway, filth spewing out of his mouth until he was breathless from cursing Ben Raines.

“Creepies watching this,” Dan said.

“Good.”

Tina lifted her binoculars. “They’re carrying knives, Dad.”

“That’s even better.” He looked at Monte.

“You’re scum, Monte. Only God knows how many innocent men and women and kids you kidnapped, raped, tortured, sodomized, and then handed over to the Night P. It’s payback time, Monte. You better start praying, because that looks like a hungry bunch over there.”

“Goddamn you, Raines! This ain’t decent. This ain’t right. This ain’t nothin’ no human being would do to another human being.”

“Call it justice, Monte,” Ben told him.

“Call it true justice at last.”

Ben turned to leave.

“Wait!” Monte’s busted and bruised mouth wailed out the one word of pure and nearly mindless fear. “You don’t know them people. They’ll torture us a long time “fore they kill us. Them people is worser than anything on the face of this earth!”

Ben looked at the naked lot of scum and trash and outlaws. There was only contempt in his eyes. “I hope so, Monte. I really hope so.”

The screaming from the mouths of the warlord and his outlaws began just as the long column of Rebels was pulling out. The screaming would continue throughout the very long day.

The Rebels made camp for the evening about fifteen miles outside of Charleston. Tina and her teams of Scouts reported that the city was filled with creepies.

“Do we clear the city, Ben?” Cecil

asked, a haggard look around his eyes.

“We destroy it,” Ben said. “Or as much of it as we can. We’ve been fully resupplied, so we’re going to stand back and shell it and set it on fire.”

Ben lifted a battered old map. “West, you take your people, this evening, and cross over the river down here at Interstate Seventy-seven. Cecil, take your battalion and cross over here, at Highway Twenty-one. At dawn, we’ll commence shelling from three directions. That’s it. You people get into position and get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be noisy.”

When Cecil and West had gone, Ben turned to Jerre. “Get Katzman. Ask him if he’s had any further word from Ike.”

Katzman reported that Ike was well inland and moving toward Base Camp One.

“Advise Ike not to engage with the creepies. He isn’t strong enough. Tell him to avoid the cities and head straight for the base camp and start setting up field supplies and vehicles for one

battalion.”

“All right, Ben.” Her eyes touched his. “Your battalion, Ben?”

“That is correct.”

He walked away while she was speaking with Katzman.

“When we get close to your camp, Thermopolis,”

Ben told him, “feel free to break loose and head home.”

“We’ve talked it over, Ben Raines. We’re going to

resettle in Arkansas. Until this creepie business is over, I have to admit there is strength in numbers. We’ll settle near the Ouachita Mountains.”

“Probably a wise choice. We’ll set you up with good radio equipment and anything else you need.”

“You won’t run my community, Ben.”

“I have no intention of running your show, Therm. I just want you properly equipped in case you’re attacked or in the event we might need some help.

Like I said before: We’re not that different.”

The hippie and the soldier smiled at each other and shook hands. “Well, I suppose I can live with that, Ben Raines.”

“Good. I’ll send a platoon of Rebels with you when you decide to break away. They’ll escort you to your new base and help you get set up.”

“That would be much appreciated. I suppose,” he added dryly, “that Jerre will be among those assigned to escort us?”

“You’re reading my mind, Therm.”

“Maybe she won’t want to go.”

“She’ll take orders or leave this outfit.”

“In her own strange way, Ben, she cares very deeply for you. Surely you must know that.”

“In her own strange way. Ships that pass in the night and all that crap.”

“Yours is a strange combination of love, devotion, and anger, Ben Raines. She will never be subservient to any man.”

“And you think that’s what I want?”

“Of course it is. You have to control everything around you.

I’m not faulting you; that’s just the way you are. But you’ll never control her. No man ever will. I think one did at some point in her life. And she will never permit that again.”

“You might be right. But it’s a moot point. Because I’ll be pulling out and chances are very good that I’ll never see her again. I have a suspicion that she’ll stay with you and your group.”

“She’ll certainly be welcome.”

“Take care of her, Thermopolis.”

“I’m not her keeper, Ben Raines. She’ll be free to come and go as she pleases. She’s not a child.”

Ben’s smile was very sad. “That’s where you’re wrong, Therm. Because in a way, she is.”

The shelling started at dawn, from three sides.

Tanks and self-propelled artillery and mortars began their destruction of the city. They began dropping in HE, Willie Peter, and incendiary. It did not take long before sections of the city were blazing, the fires, unchecked, consuming the dusty old buildings.

Ben sat in an old service-station building drinking coffee, choosing to remain by himself and making it plain he did not wish to be disturbed. He had his boots propped up on the desk and was reading a paperback he had found when Jerre came in and sat down across the desk from him.

“Something on your mind, kid?”

“Thermopolis and his people are going to be leaving the convoy in a couple of days.”

“Yeah, we talked about it earlier.”

“You’re sending a platoon of Rebels with them.”

“That’s right.”

“I am formally requesting permission to be among that platoon.” She stuck her chin out, getting set for an argument.

“All right.”

She blinked, not believing what she’d just heard.

“That’s it? No arguments about it?”

“There is nothing to argue about, Jerre. If you wish to go, go. I’ll reassign you right now. Dan is picking the team, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” She spoke softly.

“Then you’re on your way. Pack up your gear and report to Dan. Tell him what I said. He’ll verify it with me later.”

She stood up and looked at him. “Well, I guess there is nothing left to say.”

“I don’t know that there ever was all that much to say, Jerre.” He lifted his coffee mug. “Here’s lookin” at you, kid.”

She was gone amid the crash and howl of artillery shells.

Ben was not hearing the roar of combat. He was lost in memories, remembering that day years back when he had first looked into those blue eyes.

He sighed and closed the book, putting it in his jacket pocket. He stood up and walked to the door, opening it and stepping outside just in time to see Jerre get into a jeep.

She looked back at him.

He tossed her a salute.

“What’s that all about?” she called, her voice small over the roar of the shelling.

“One always salutes the victor, Jerre.

Protocol and all that.”

“Nobody won, Ben. We both lost.” She put the jeep into gear and drove off.

While it was impossible for a force as small as Ben’s to completely destroy a city the size of Charleston, they did leave behind them a burning city.

None had any way of knowing how many creepies they had killed, but for about eighteen hours, they had made life damned miserable for them.

The column crossed over into Kentucky without further incident, bypassing Lexington and taking Interstate 75 south.

It was just past Lexington that Thermopolis and his group split with the Rebels.

“We’re not far from home, Ben Raines,”