chasing me ever since I got away from them. I recognize the pickup. That’s the one Sister Voleta always rides in.”
Ike slipped the M-16 off safety and onto full auto as the drag vehicle came into view. “Two of them,” he muttered.
“There will be two men in the back of each truck,” Nina said. “Sister Voleta’s personal guards. And they know what they’re doing.”
“That bunch over where they had me captive damn sure didn’t know much,” Ike countered. “Matter of fact, they were a bunch of amateurs.”
Just as Ike was raising the M-16, two more trucks appeared from the opposite direction. A woman got out of the lead pickup to stand in the road.
The other cars and trucks stopped, their passengers getting out. A dozen men and women now lined the road, with guards facing in all directions, armed with M-16’s.
“Shit!” Ike whispered. “I could take “em, but they might take us, too. Can’t risk it. They’re too spread out.”
“I agree,” Nina returned the whisper. She clutched at his arm and Ike could feel the fear in the woman transmitting to him at her touch.
“Take it easy, kid,” Ike said. “We’re gonna make it.”
“Promise?”
“You betcha.” He looked at the robed woman. “I know that woman.”
“That’s Sister Voleta. She’s head of the Ninth Order. She is evil and perverted and crazy to boot.”
“Sounds like ya’ll real fond of one another.”
“I’d like to jam this .38 up her butt and pull the trigger.”
“Listen.”
“Captain Willette is not performing up to his capabilities,” Sister Voleta said, her voice reaching Ike and Nina. “And those fools at the warehouse deserved what they received for allowing Colonel McGowen to escape. That fat worshipper of a false god is not to leave these mountains.”
Ike’s face reddened with anger and Nina had to stifle a giggle at his expression.
Sister Voleta said, “We have over five hundred people, with that many more coming in, some with tracking dogs to search for that lard ass.”
Ike gripped his M-16 so hard his knuckles turned white from the strain.
Despite the seriousness of the situation-they were only about fifty feet from the roadbed-Nina almost groaned suppressing a giggle at the expression on Ike’s face. Sister Voleta, Nina thought, didn’t know Ike very well at all. True, the ex-Seal was built like a fireplug, but he was muscular, not at all fat.
Ike stuck out his tongue at Sister Voleta. He muttered, “I’m gonna shoot your ass off, bitch. And enjoy doing it.”
“Tell our people within the ranks of Ben Raines” Rebels to step up their activities,” Sister Voleta gave the command. She did not elaborate as to what those “activities” might be. “Already, many of the younger Rebels are swaying toward our side-even if they don’t yet realize it. But, for now, recapture McGowen. He is sure to head either south or east. If so, he is ours.”
The group split up, returning to their vehicles. The guards were the last to go, backing up all the way, weapons at the ready. Ike agreed with Nina: They knew what they were doing. In a moment, the road was clear, the sounds of engines fading into the distance.
Nina’s fingers clutched at Ike’s forearm. “What are we going to do, Ike?” There was panic in her voice. “We can’t fool dogs.”
“Easy, kid. We can fool the dogs if we don’t run into them.” He smiled at her. “So we’re headin’ straight north. I’m bettin’ they’ll expect us to cut “cross country, but we ain’t. We’re gonna backtrack on this road ‘bout fifteen miles.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out an old map of the Chattahoochee National Forest. “See this park road? We cut northeast on it and it’ll lead up to Highway 76. Don’t you worry, little one. We’ll make it. And we might just raise a little hell of our own along the way.”
“We’re due to raise a little hell of our own,” she replied. “Bastards been after me for what seems like forever.”
“Can you use a rifle?”
“I damn sure can. You’re looking at a girl who can do most anything.”
Ike laughed. “I believe it, Nina. Well, then, we’ll just have to find you a rifle.”
“One of those flat-shooting .270’s, if you can. I like that rifle.”
He glanced at her, amusement in his eyes. “Damned if you don’t talk a good battle.”
“I do more than talk, buddy. Believe it.”
“Do we chase them, General?” Ben was asked.
“No. Let them go. No telling how many men he’s got as backup. We could be heading into more trouble than we could handle.” He looked at his map. The column was just a few miles away from the intersection of Georgia Highway 121. “We’ll cut due north here,” Ben said, thumping the map. “We want to give this old nuclear plant a wide berth. Here.” He pointed out the location. “It experienced a meltdown back in “88. Still might be hot around there. We’ll stay with 121 to this point, then cut northwest, come under Fort Gordon. We’ll see if we can salvage something there. Although I imagine it’s been licked clean by now.”
“What’s a meltdown, General?” one of the younger Rebels asked.
Ben smiled sadly. So young, he thought. He was maybe ten years old when the balloon went up back in ‘88. Since that point in the earth’s future, nuclear energy had become a thing of the past.
Ben explained, using layman’s language, what a meltdown was. He looked at the young faces around him. They
don’t understand, he thought. Even the best educated among them have such a deficiency in the sciences and math.
That simply must not be allowed to continue. For the sake of the future generations, it must not continue.
Yet another problem to face.
Ben sighed. “OK, gang. Finish up with those punks left alive and let’s roll it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
They were the younger of the Rebels and the ones with the least education. They had no idea they were being duped and manipulated by Willette and Carter and Bennett. What the three men and those with them said seemed to make sense. If you thought about it. It just wasn’t right for the general to go off like he’d done. And yes, even though they didn’t like to think about it, they reckoned that gods get old just like everybody else. Kind of. How old was General Raines, anyway?
Nobody seemed to know.
Most just shrugged the question off, saying he was ageless.
Ageless? What did that mean? Most of the younger Rebels had been no more than six or seven years old the bombs came, back in ‘88. Most could barely and write. Some could do neither. And they had no desire to learn. It was just too much of a bother, too time-consuming. Who needs it?
Ignorance is the father and mother of superstition, the breeder of far-fetched legends, the sperm of ghostly tales, the lover and creator of myth. And these few, young Rebels were prime candidates. Ageless. Whatever that meant. So … it figured
that Ben Raines must be tired.
But they were convinced that all this, all this talking, all this planning, all this was for General Raines’ welfare.
But who would be in charge while General Raines was resting? Not Cecil. He was kind of like General Raines … in a way. Ike? Naw. Ike was a fighter, not a decision-maker. Then … who?
Captain Willette was pretty smart, and an easygoing kind of guy. Up on all sorts of things. Read big books all the time.
Yeah. Captain Willette could handle the job.
“You’re in a good mood, Ben,” Gale observed. “Cecil must have had some good news.”
