70 Sevea

The children had been inoculated, the men and women given physicals, and the Rebels pulled out. Just before they left, Jesse walked up to Ben.

“You know, Ben, this isn’t going to be half bad. For the first time in my life, I’m on the side of law and order, and I won’t have to be looking over my shoulder twenty-five hours a day.”

Ben smiled. “That’s what you think, Jesse.”

“Huh?”

“Within seventy-two hours, every punk and thug and worthless piece of human crap in a two hundred mile radius will know that you and your bunch have thrown in with the Rebels. They’ll know that you now have medicines and proper food and up-to-date radio equipment and everything else that goes with joining up with us. And they’ll be coming in to take it from you. Just like you people took it from that pathetic bunch that was here before.”

Jesse paled as the truth in that hit him hard. “But we don’t have anything to fight with, Ben. We can’t fight off renegades with .22 caliber rifles and shotguns!”

71 Ben laughed and patted the man on the shoulder. “Relax, Jesse. Your weapons are stored in that warehouse out on 39, just at the edge of town. I was only testing you.”

Jesse stared at Ben for a moment, then burst out laughing. He wiped his eyes and stuck out his hand. Ben shook it.

“We’ll do our best to keep our end of the bargain, Ben.”

“I know you will.”

“How?”

“When I discovered that Boston really was your name, I sent people to the old Oklahoma State Prison to see if they could find your real records. They got lucky and found them. You only killed that one man, Jesse. And you claimed it to be self-defense.”

“It was! I’ll swear on the Bible it was.”

“I believe you. I talked with some of those dipshits you turned loose. They admitted you were the one who stopped the beatings and the rapes and punished the men who were responsible. That told me volumes about you, Jesse.”

Jesse rolled a cigarette and said nothing.

“Then some of your own people told me about you setting up a zoo for the children in your camp. Taking care of the animals yourself. How many dogs and cats do you have, Jesse?”

He mumbled something.

“Beg pardon?”

“About a dozen!” he admitted.

Ben laughed. “Jesse, I won’t deny that you’re probably a mean bastard to tangle with in a fight, but you’re not a bad bastard.”

72 “Just don’t let that get out, Ben. It would ruin my reputation.”

Ben grinned. “Hell, Jesse. Those with you who are worth saving already know it!”

Ben and his Rebels moved northeast, toward the ruins of Oklahoma City. Scouts had reported back that the smell of Night People was very strong amid the tangle of twisted girders, burned-out buildings, and piles of brick and stone. They saw no signs of human life during the short run from Jesse Boston’s location to the city. Not one single sign.

“Creepies ate them,” Jersey said, disgust in her voice.

“General,” Beth said, “was there any evidence of the Night People before the Great War?”

“Not to my knowledge, Beth. Cannibalism was a very rare thing. But I have a suspicion the Creeps were around, although not in the numbers we’ve had to fight. I think they probably preyed on hitchhikers and runaways. Back when civilization was more or less functioning, about two hundred thousand people a year just dropped out of sight. Vanished. And that was in the United States alone.”

“Why?” Corrie asked.

“Oh, marital problems, loss of jobs, unable to pay their bills. All sorts of reasons. Kids ran away because they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, get along with their parents, or peer pressure became too great. Again, there were a number of reasons. When I was just a kid, back in the ‘60s, that’s when things really began to unravel. We got involved in a war that no one wanted and the politicians wouldn’t let the

73 fighting men win. After Vietnam, everything seemed to go downhill. About twenty-five years after Vietnam, the whole goddamn world fell apart.”

“Ben Raines?” the man asked, standing on Ben’s front porch.

“That’s right.”

The man held up a badge. “I’m Bond, FBI. This is Reno, Secret Service.” Reno showed Ben his badge.

Ben took out his wallet and found his social security card. He held that up. The government agents were not amused.

“May we come in?” Reno asked.

“No,” Ben told him. “But it’s a nice day. We can sit out here on the porch.”

Ben sat down and pointed to chairs on the enclosed porch. “I’m not going to offer you coffee or iced tea or soft drinks. State your business and then get the hell off my property.”

“You’re not very friendly, Mister Raines,” Agent Bond said.

“Should I be? This is not the first time federal agents have been around, questioning me and making a nuisance of themselves. I used to have a dog. She was a very nice dog. The last time people like you came around, they blatantly and arrogantly ignored my “no trespassing” signs and let her out of the fenced-in yard and she was run over. I had to have her put to sleep. I don’t like you people and I don’t give a damn who knows it. By the way, have you shot any tax resisters today?”

Both Bond and Reno flushed.

74 Ben wouldn’t let up. “You people have a quota? What is it, a point system? Five points for an adult and two points for a kid?”

“Your writing has become very inflammatory, Mister Raines,” Reno said. “You’re calling for open and armed rebellion against the United States government.”

“You’re damn right I am. We’ve got to stop this insanity before it’s too late. And if the only way to do it is by overthrowing the government, let’s get it on.”

“Your publishing company has agreed to cooperate with us, Mister Raines,” Bond said. “They will no longer be publishing your works.”

Ben laughed in the man’s face. “I wondered when the government would get around to pressuring them. So now freedom of speech is restricted. I knew it would happen. Hell, boys, that won’t stop me. I’ll just self-publish and peddle my books out of the trunk of my car.”

“No major chain will be carrying your Doomsday series, Mister Raines,” Reno informed him. “They have voluntarily agreed to cooperate with us.”

“I just bet they have,” Ben said sarcastically.

Bond hastened to add, “Of course, your western books are not affected by this order. Your government does not in any way wish to restrict your making a living.” He said all that without cracking a smile.

Ben laughed in his face. “Close the gate on your way out,” he told the agents.

Oklahoma City loomed before the Rebels. Ben came out of his bitter remembrances and pointed

75 to a huge shopping mall coming up off to the right. “Over there. I want to prowl around some.”

Ben stepped out of the Hummer and stretched. Teams of Rebels were quickly converging on what was left of the shopping center. Ben walked toward the mall entrance, not missing a step at his son’s shout.

“Come on, Dad! Wait up. The damn place is not secure.”

“So let’s secure it,” Ben called over his shoulder and kept walking.

Buddy ran up to him and did what very few Rebels would dare do to Ben Raines: he grabbed Ben by the arm and spun him around. “Goddamnit, Dad. What’s the matter with you? What turned you so angry all of a sudden?”

“Well, boy,” Ben said, his eyes blazing, “on the way up here, among other things, I was recalling how, a few years before the Great War, good, decent, taxpaying citizens became afraid to leave their homes at night to go shopping, because the malls were not secure. The streets were not secure. And just before it all blew up in our faces, even the homes of good, decent, taxpaying men and women were not secure. Now, son of mine, I am going to go into that old mall and do some window shopping amid the ruins. And if there is anybody in there who might like to attempt to mug me, or molest me, or fuck with me, I am going to secure that mall in the manner we should have done years back. If the goddamn government hadn’t taken our guns away from us, that is. Thanks to the goddamn liberal Democratic Party. Now let go of my arm.”

Ben stalked away.

76 “He was telling us about how federal agents used to come to his house,” Cooper said, hurrying along after Ben. “It really, really pissed him off.”

“The recalling of it?”

“Yeah,” Jersey said. “I’ve been with your dad a good many years. I know all the signs. Nobody better jack around with him.”

“Buddy!” Jim Peters, commander of 14 Battalion yelled. “Recon says the Creeps control the ruins of the city and gangs of punks control all the suburbs, including this old mall.”

“Oh, hell!” Buddy muttered, just as Ben kicked in what remained of the mall’s electric doors and stalked inside.

“Hey you!” a shouted voice stopped Ben just inside the huge old mall.

Ben turned to face half a dozen young men, all wearing the most outlandish of clothing. “We’re the 89th Street Bombers,” one told him. “I’m called Prince. This is our turf. You get the hell out of here, dude.” He was wearing tennis shoes that had battery operated flashing lights on them.

Ben laughed at the sight.

“You laughin’ at me, pops?” the punk said.

“Yeah,” Ben told him. “What the hell are you supposed to represent, an early Christmas?”

“Say what?”

“Forget it. Get out of my way.”

“I think you need to be taught a lesson, pops,” the same punk said. “And we’s just the ones to do that. I think I’ll cut your ears off and make a necklace out of them.”

“Then I would have to say you have extremely lousy tastes when it comes to jewelry.”