'The war?' Natalia said.
'Don't you know about the war?' Rubenstein said, leaning toward her.
'What war?' Natalia said.
'Tell her about the war,' Rourke said, lighting one of the last of his cigars.
'Looks like it's going to rain today.'
Chapter Twenty-Three
'God, it's so green here,' Samuel Chambers said, sitting on the small stone bench and looking at the profusion of camelias.
'East Texas by the Louisiana border here is green like this most of the time.
But I think it's time for the meeting to start now—Mr. President.'
Chambers looked at the man, saying quickly, 'Don't call me that yet, George. I'm secretary of communications, and that's it.'
'But you're the only surviving man in the line of succession, sir—you are the president.'
'I was up in Tyler last year in October for the Rose Festival—this just might be the prettiest part of the State of Texas—here, north of here and down south to the Gulf.'
'Sir!'
'I'm coming, George—stop and smell the flowers, right?' Chambers stood up and reached into his shirt pocket, snatching a Pall Mall. He stared at the cigarette a moment, then said to his young executive assistant. 'I wonder how I'll get these now—with the war?'
'I'm sure we can find enough to last a long time for you, sir,' the young man Chambers had called George said reassuringly, walking toward Chambers and standing at his side as he passed, almost as if to keep the man from taking another tour of the garden.
Chambers turned as he reached the double french doors leading back from the walled garden to the library inside the nearly century-old stone house. He stared back into the garden, saying to George without looking at him, 'I'm about to make history, George. When I walk into that room, if I reject the call to the presidency or if I accept it. And if I accept it, what will I be president of?
It's a wasteland out there beyond this garden—much of it is, isn't it?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Pretty much of the whole West Coast is gone, New York was blown off the map.
What am I going to be offered the presidency of—a sore that isn't smart enough to know that it can't heal?'
Chapter Twenty-Four
'Who are they, John?' Rourke heard Rubenstein asking. Rourke didn't answer, staring up the road at the stricken faces of the men, women and children struggling slowly toward them. As the women's faces showed recognition of Rourke, Rubenstein and the girl bending over their cycles, Rourke watched the women hug the children closer to them, some of the men starting to raise sticks or axes as if for defense. 'Who are they?' Rubenstein asked again.
Rourke turned and started to answer, but then the woman's alto, choked-sounding as she spoke, came from behind him on the Harley's long seat. 'They're refugees from some town up ahead—it's written all over their faces, Paul.'
'I do know you from somewhere,' Rourke said to her.
'And I know you—I wonder what will happen when we remember from where, John?'
'I don't know,' he said slowly, then stared back up the road at the faces of the people. He looked over to Rubenstein on the bike beside him, saying, 'Dismount and leave your subgun on the bike or give it to Natalie. Go tell them we don't mean them any harm.'
'But how do I know they don't mean me any harm?' Rubenstein asked, starting off his bike.
'I'll cover you.'
Rubenstein handed the SMG to Natalie, Rourke glancing back to her and saying, 'Don't tell me you can't figure out how to use it—remember I saw the job you did back there at the jeep.'
'Whatever do you mean,' she said, her voice half laughing.
'Sure, lady,' Rourke grunted, then watched as Rubenstein, hands outspread as though he were approaching an unfamiliar dog, walked toward the refugees.
Rourke heard Rubenstein starting to speak, 'Hey look—we're good guys—don't mean you any harm, maybe we can help you.'
A man started toward Rubenstein with a long-handled scythe and Rourke shouted, 'Watch out!' then started to bring the Python out of the Ranger cammie holster on his pistol belt. There was a short, loud roar behind him, hot brass burning against his neck, the scythe handle was sliced in half, and Rubenstein spun on his heel, the Browning High Power in his right hand, his left hand pushing his glasses back off the bridge of his nose. Rourke glanced back to Natalie, saying, 'Like I said, sure lady.'
