“You three get to Doctor Carlton,” Ben told Judy, Roy and Katrina. “We’ll pull out as soon as James is through.”
“He won’t find a thing,” Katrina predicted.
She was right.
The convoy took Highway 63 out of Rolla and rolled to just outside of Jefferson City, pulling into a motel complex in mid-afternoon. They had seen a few survivors, but Ben knew more had seen the convoy from hiding places along the highway. The people were wary and scared. The great unknown had reached out and slapped the nation twice, hard, in little more than a dozen years, knocking those that survived to their knees. He knew that many of those slapped down would never get to their feet.
Ben gathered the seventy-five or so young people from the campus around him. “If any of you want to go home, I’ll try to find some type of transportation for you.”
No one did. Denise explained, “We don’t have homes, General-none of us.”
“For how long?” he asked.
“Years,” she said. “I’ve been on my own since I was ten. You don’t know there are large groups of young people on both sides of the Mississippi River?”
Ben shook his head.
““Yes, sir. The western group is headed by a young man named Wade. The eastern group is headed by a young man named Ro. Both groups live in the woods. They are, well, rather wild, but they’ve never hurt anyone to the best of my knowledge.”
“I see,” Ben said, not sure if he saw or not. “Well, Denise, you and your people have homes now, if you want them.”
“With you and your Rebels, General?” a young man asked.
“That is correct.”
“If we decide to stay with you, General,” Denise said, “what would we do?”
“Stay with us until we can check you out with weapons and survival tactics. Although-was he smiled-“if you’ve been on your own for all these years, I don’t believe you need any lessons on survival.
“After we check you out, you would then move out in teams, attempting to convince other young people that the way of the IPF is the wrong way, that we-Americans-have to rebuild this nation. We have to rebuild with education and hard work, compassion when it’s needed, and toughness tempered with mercy in many cases. How about it?”
The young people thought they liked that plan.
They would stay.
“Tell me about these groups of young people, Denise,” Ben asked.
“I … really don’t know much about them, General, other than what I told you.” She looked at him strangely. “Except, well, their religion is not quite like what the rest of us, well, practice.”
“I don’t understand. They worship God, don’t they?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes, sir.”
“Explain that, Denise.” There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Ben’s stomach. He braced himself for what he knew was coming.
“They worship you, sir.”
Jefferson City contained more than four hundred survivors, but as was the case in most areas, Ben and his Rebels found organization lacking. People had splintered off into little groups, each with their own leaders, with their own varying philosophy as to what should be done and how to go about doing it. In some cases the people were fighting each other.
And Ben did not know how to bring an end to the fighting.
It was what Ben had been afraid he’d find.
He spoke with a few of the survivors-those that would let him get close to them-and tried to convince them they had to get off their butts and start working, straightening matters out. And to stop warring between themselves. Many times he would turn and walk away in disgust, leaving before anger got the best of him. Of those he spoke with,
Ben figured he got through to maybe ten percent.
Clearly disgusted, Ben ordered his people mounted up to pull out. He told Dan Gray. “To hell with these people. Let them kill each other off. They’ve lost the will to survive in any type of productive society.”
“I concur,” Colonel Gray said.
It was then Ben noticed that Mary Macklin was reluctant to ride with him. He did not understand it. He thought it might be due to their brief sexual encounter-but he did not really believe that was it. When they reached Fulton, Missouri, just prior to stopping at a small college there, Ben pulled the growing convoy off the road and walked back to where Lieutenant Macklin was sitting in a Jeep alone.
“I say something to offend you?” he asked her.
“No, sir. Not at all.”
“You maybe don’t like my deodorant?”
She laughed. “No, sir. It’s nothing like that. Believe me.”
Ben didn’t believe her. He felt she was holding something back, but he decided not to push. “Finally decide I could take care of myself, eh, Mary?”
“Something like that, sir.” You’d better be able to take care of yourself, General, she thought. Because when you and Gale stop spatting and hissing at each other like a cat and dog, things are sure going to pop.
And Mary really wasn’t all that certain how she felt about that.
Ben nodded, not believing a word he had heard. “All right, Mary. Right now, I want you to take a team over to Westminster College. Check it out for survivors. Shouldn’t take you more than a couple of hours. Well wait for you here.”
She nodded and pulled around the convoy, stopping twice to pick up people. With four in the Jeep, she headed out.
Ben ordered his people to dismount and take a rest.
“I’m surprised you would delegate that much authority to a woman, General Raines,” the voice came from behind Ben.
“Ms. Roth,” Ben said, turning around. “I really don’t-was
He cut off his sentence at the sight of her. He could hardly recognize her. She had done something to her hair, cut it maybe-something was very different. Maybe she had simply combed it, Ben thought. But he decided he’d best keep that a thought and not put it into words. For safety’s sake. His own. She wore jeans that fitted her trim figure snugly, and what looked to be a boy’s Western shirt. However, Gale would never be confused for any boy. Ben stared. She was somewhere in between pretty and beautiful.
“A speechless gentile.” She tossed his words back to him with a smile. “My goodness, I believe I’ve found a first.”
Ben ignored that. “Where’s the kid?”
“With the new people from the college. One of the young women had just lost her baby-a couple of weeks ago. She asked if she could take care of the baby. I told her that was fine with me. Baby’s probably better off with her, anyway.”
“Why would you think that?” Ben looked into her eyes. She really had beautiful eyes.
She returned his open stare. “You really ask a lot of questions, you know that, General?”
“Perhaps. Why would … what is the child’s name, anyway?”
“I haven’t the vaguest idea. I found him in Flat River when I was traveling south. Believe me, I don’t know from nothing about babies. Well, not all that much, anyway.”
Ben sensed she was putting up a brave front, but had decided the child would be better off with someone else. “The mother who lost her baby-she still in the nursing stage?”
“That’s right.”
“And fresh milk is hard to come by these days.”
“Right.”
“I see.”
“I doubt it. What do you know about nursing babies? Nothing,” she answered her own question.
