And she never fully understood why she was spared when so many others died.
“People lost faith,” Rani said quietly. “They just couldn’t believe that God would do something this awful to the human race. Many of them needed someone
…
something they could see to worship. They found Ben Raines. This one human man that rose up out of the ashes and built a nation within a nation. Against all odds, he did it. He fought mutants, warlords, outlaws, and the entire central government of the United States … and won. A lot of people thought him blessed, so to speak. But he is not a god, children. He is flesh and blood and bone. Just like us.”
But she could tell by the expression on the children’s faces they were not convinced.
“Have you ever met Ben Raines, Miss Rani?” Paul asked.
“No.” She shook her head.
“Then you don’t know for sure, do you?”
“No,” Rani admitted. “I don’t know for sure.”
Chapter 13
For just a fleeting moment, Ben thought of turning off the interstate and checking out Webb AFB at Big Spring. But he knew from experience what he would find. Nothing. The place would have been picked over a hundred times. And, he smiled, more than likely, most of the gear taken by my own people.
Was it Webb AFB that Sergeant Buck Osgood and his small band of men had barricaded themselves in a concrete bunker against the hordes of mutant rats8*
Ben couldn’t remember. He knew it had been someplace in Texas.
He drove on past the exit sign for Webb AFB.
“Got anyplace in particular you’d like to see, Jordy?” he asked.
“Don’t know no place, Ben. Don’t make no difference, long as I’m seein’ it with you.”
Ben grinned. “OK. Now say your ABC’S for me.” *Fire in the Ashes
The boy got them all right-first try.
Already, with three squares a day, the boy was gaining weight, filling out. The pinched look of poverty was leaving his face, and the boy was smiling more.
“We make a pretty good team, don’t we, Jordy?”
“Sure do, Ben. Are you gonna keep me?”
“Am I going to what?”
“Keep me.”
Ben laughed. “Why, I haven’t given anything other than “keeping you” any thought, Jordy. What did you think I was going to do-toss you out by the side of the road?”
“Naw. I didn’t figure you’d do that. But nothing good ever lasts long. Not for nobody livin’ out here, anyways.”
“Well, we’re going to last, Jordy. You and me. We’ll hole up this winter and I’ll teach you how to read and write-as best I can. Then, in the spring, we’ll head on back to Georgia and you’ll have a permanent home.”
“With you, Ben?”
“With me, Jordy.”
“Is that a promise, Ben?”
Ben ruffled his hair. “That’s a promise, boy.”
“Close to five hundred men, Jake,” West said. “With more comin’ in. With five-six hundred salty ol’ boys, we could rule half of Texas if we played our cards right.”
“That’s what I’m thinking, too,” Jake said. “And I know where to get more.”
“Oh?” West looked at him.
Jake motioned for his radioman to come over. “Get on the horn, Emmett. Tell the boys back in Tennessee to pack it up and come on out. Bring everything with them. We’ll set up a base camp right here and wait for them.”
“The big push, boss?” Emmett said, an ugly smile on his face.
“The big push, Emmett. And when we’re done using Ben Raines’ ass to wipe the sidewalk, we’re gonna rule Texas.”
Rani and her bunch avoided the main highways, electing to stay on the secondary roads. They took Highway 33 south, but only managed to make about thirty miles the first day. A tire had blown out on the small truck, and Rani was forced to call a halt until she could locate a spare, then a hand pump to inflate the tube.
Then bad gas forced them to spend a full day blowing out gas lines and siphoning the tanks dry. They were a weary and discouraged little band of travelers when they pulled into the outskirts of Ozona, Texas, to make camp for the night.
Rani was very wary of towns, preferring the open skies for a roof whenever the weather permitted. Even though the nearby town appeared deserted, Rani was not going to take any chances. Not when they were this close to their final destination.! She had made up her mind where they were going to winter. She had absolutely no idea what she might find there. But she was betting on one thing: there would be no people.
And the winter would be mild. She picked up her map and looked at it.
“Yes,” she said aloud.
“You know where we’re goin’ now, Miss Rani?” Robert asked. “Terlingua,” she said.
“What’s them things, Ben?” Jordy asked, pointing to a group of skeletal objects in what had once been a productive field.
They were on Interstate 10, just outside of Fort Stockton, Texas.
“Irrigation systems, Jordy. Not enough rainfall in this area, so the farmers brought water up from the ground for their crops.”
“Why didn’t they just move where there was enough water?” the boy asked.
“Lots of reasons, Jordy. This was their home, for one thing. And nobody likes to be forced from their home. For whatever reason.”
“Even now, Ben? With all the land and houses just there? Would that still be true?”
“Even now, Jordy.”
The man and boy saw no one. Not one living human being. Not for miles and miles. It was as if this part of the country had been abandoned. Ben knew this part of the state had been hard hit by the disease-bearing rats, but he had not expected anything like this.
At the junction of Highway 17, Ben turned off the interstate and headed north, toward Pecos. Ben traveled warily now, for he knew that even before the great war of ‘88, the land west of the Pecos had been filled with the last of the truly tough, old-fashioned folks; good people, but secure in their beliefs and self-sufficient. They were of pioneer stock, and were boot-tough when pushed.
Before Ben reached Pecos, a sign suspended over the highway pulled him up short:
IF YOU’RE FRIENDLY, WELCOME, FRIEND.
IF YOU WANT TROUBLE, YOU GOT X.
Ben clicked on his CB and keyed the mike. “I’m Ben Raines,” he said. “I’m traveling with a small boy. And we’re friendly.”
Someone on the other end of the airwaves laughed. “Come on in, General. We’ve been trackin’ you since you cut off the interstate. Ya’ll just in time for lunch.”
“Son of a bitch!” Colonel Dan Gray cursed. “Now what?”’
“Road is blocked, sir,” a scout radioed back to the main column. “And someone has blown the bridge. We’re gonna have to cut farther south; go across Mississippi and Louisiana.”
“All right,” the Englishman radioed. “Backtrack. We’ll wait for you here.”
Gray’s Scouts had been attempting to move across the top of Alabama on Highway 72. They had been forced off that highway after only fifty or so miles. They had wound around country roads until linking up with alternate 72 at Huntsville. That had ended just before reaching Decatur.
When his recon teams had returned, Gray ordered the column south on Interstate 65. They knew from other reports that 278 west was closed; someone had blown the bridge over the East Fork.
“Find us a way around Birmingham,” Dan told his recon teams. “I don’t want to get in a firefight unless it’s
