Only a few hands went up.
Ben’s eyes settled on a man who looked to be in his late forties. “Where’d you serve?”
“Eighteen years in the Army, sir. I got shot during the assault on Tri-States and was court-martialed because I ordered my platoon to pull back and take no further action against you or your people. Name is Charles Leighton.”
Ben handed him one of the M-16’s taken from Campo’s men. “Well, Charles, you have just been promoted to the rank of Colonel and placed in charge of security on this outpost. What’s your name?” Ben asked another man who had raised his hand.
“Jim Canby, General. Three years in the Marine Corps.”
Jim got the other M-16, and the two pistols were given to a Chuck Morris and a Dot Fontana.
“All right, people,” Ben said. “Now you level with me. How many contraband guns have you managed to stash away?”’
The spokeswoman, Dot, smiled. “Twelve rifles and six shotguns. Four pistols. But we don’t have much ammunition for them.”
“You will,” Ben said. “Soon.”
Leaving Judy talking with the others, Ben took those he had just armed off to one side.
“West has to have informers among you,” Ben said. “Who are they?”
Dot named four people she was sure of and two more she suspected. The others agreed.
“Place them under guard,” Ben told them. “If they’re innocent, we’ll apologize later. When that is done, I want whoever it is among you who usually contacts this West person, to do so. Tell him you have to see him first thing in the morning. Tell him … tell him half a dozen women just wandered into town and you don’t have enough food for yourselves, much less a half-dozen more people. The mention of women should bring him on the run. Does he usually come in by the same route? Good, We’ll ambush the son of a bitch-or whoever he sends-take their guns and vehicles. Then we’ll raid his base camp and steal some more.”
Broad grins greeted Ben. Dot said, “Oh, I like the way you think, General.”
“So do I, lady,” Judy said, joining the group. Her eyes were mean. “And I got first dibs.”
“You married to him?” Dot asked.
Judy balled her fists.
Ben stepped between them.
“Get outta the goddamned way!” Judy said.
Ben got.
Chapter 4
There was no trouble between Judy and Dot. Doctor Barnes intervened and the woman stepped back.
Dot said, “I apologize to you both. But men, as you shall see, are scarce around here. I had to test the waters.”
“What do you mean, men are scarce?” Ben asked.
“West takes most of the men to work his camps,” Doctor Barnes said. “Those he leaves are usually under fourteen or over sixty. The few men you see here are all that are left in town. The rest are too young or too old. The women remaining here are also very young, or over fifty.”
“And the other men and women?” Ben asked.
“They’re held at the work camps.”
“Then we’ve got our work cut out for us, haven’t we?” Ben said.
“Yes, sir.”
West, Charles told Ben, always came in from the north. His work camps were located in a half circle, ranging from Union City in the north, extending eastward to Martin, down to Milan, taking in Jackson, down to Bolivar, then in a straight line west to Memphis.
“How many men?” Ben asked.
“It fluctuates,” Barnes said. “But I’d say four hundred at any given time. Don’t misunderstand, General. The people in the area he controls aren’t cowards. Not by any means. He just built his little army and then took one town at a time. Some of the towns might have had fifteen people left when he came, others might have had fifty. He just overpowered them, set up informers, took the guns and vehicles, and left after torturing and killing and raping to prove who was boss.”
“Yes,” Ben said. “And he also caught the people at just the right time. I’ve seen it many times before. Beaten down, scared, hungry, and most important, leaderless.”
“Leaders, General Raines,” Dot said, “are very hard to find.”
“Leaders, Miss Fontana,” Ben countered, “are very easy to find. Finding the right one is what is so difficult.”
Ben spent the rest of that day making more bombs. West had stripped the area of all functioning vehicles, but had left behind those that would not run. Ben ordered the batteries to be pulled from those vehicles and emptied of their acid-if any remained. Many of the batteries were dry.
He showed the people how to properly make and handle Molotov cocktails, and how to construct tin-can land mines, filling them up with gunpowder and nails; how to make wine-bottle cone charges, capable of penetrating two or three inches of armor.
“Special Forces or Ranger, General?” Leighton asked.
“Both,” Ben told him. “Then into the old Hell-Hounds. You remember them?”
“Jesus!” Leighton whispered. “I figured all you guys were long dead.”
Ben showed the people how to take sodium chlorate and sugar, and by adding one other easy to find ingredient, make a highly volatile pipe bomb.
By late afternoon of the first day in town, Ben had more than a hundred of the people gathering materials for him, and by dusk, he had quite an impressive display of homemade bombs.
“Let’s call it a day,” Ben said, straightening up. “Tomorrow morning, early, we’ll go over the plans once more, then take out the column this Mister West sends in.”
They assembled an hour before dawn, at staggered positions along both sides of the old county road. Ben had ordered extra precautions taken with the suspected informers under guard, and his suspicions paid off-one man had tried to escape. Under questioning, he admitted he was an informer for West. He had received extra food for that. Ben ordered him hanged.
“He has a wife and family, General,” a man told Ben.
“He doesn’t anymore.”
In the chilly predawn, Ben finally told his plan to those men and women he had armed, before positioning.
“We wondered when you were going to let us in on it, General,” Leighton said.
“It’s very doubtful we locked up all the informers,” Ben said. “I couldn’t take the chance of one getting away and blowing it all. All right, here it is. First rule of battle: Keep it simple. The more complicated the plan, the more chance you have of it failing. We have to have the vehicles. That’s essential. A roadblock would warn them of danger. So that’s out. Notice how I’m dressed? None of you have. Learn to be more observant. Your life is going to depend on it. My clothing is old and dirty. I didn’t shave this morning. My hat is different. I found it in an old department store, all rat-chewed. I look like I’ve been on the road for a time. I’m holding a ragged-looking coat over my arm. The coat conceals the tear-gas grenade in my left hand. When we hear the sounds of West’s vehicles approaching this position, I’m going to step out into the road with the pin pulled on this grenade, holding the spoon down. With any kind of luck, the driver of the lead truck will roll down his window and call me over. When that happens, I’ll toss the tear-gas grenade into the vehicle and dive for the ditch. That’s your cue to open fire on the others. You don’t have much ammo, so don’t waste it. Never mind broken windshields. They can be replaced; broken skulls can’t. You know your positions, now get to them.”
The thin line of Ben’s newest contingent of Rebels waited in the weed-grown ditches. For many of them, this would be the first taste of actual combat. For despite the collapse of the government of the United States of America a decade after the world had been torn by nuclear and germ warfare, many of the survivors just rolled with the flow, so to speak, obeying blindly the often-times idiotic dictates of a central government that, even in the best of times, had never worked to the satisfaction of a very large and varied minority.
