Part 10 (1/2)

Inside the city, the Believers were frantically radioing for a.s.sistance, all the while knowing there was no escape for them and no help coming. Their pleas were met with a cold and uncaring silence from their comrades to the south. Every group living outside the city that had been aligned with them had fled south, setting up skirmish lines to slow the Rebel advance once the city by the Bay was finished and that d.a.m.nable Ben Raines turned his army southward.

”All right,” Ben said. ”Let's do it.” And the Rebels opened fire with small arms, mortars, cannon, and rockets.

From the Pacific eastward to the San Francis...o...b..y the land exploded in flames and smoke and death as the Rebel gunners laid down a field of rolling artillery fire. Ben and his forward contingent moved north another burning block. They ignored the cries from wounded creeps. It was not difficult for them to do. All had seen firsthand the savagery and brutality of the cannibalistic tribes called Believers. The wounded creeps had very quickly learned to still their cries for help. Their pleas for mercy got them quick and cold compa.s.sion from the muzzle of a Rebel weapon.

Everything in the Rebels' path was put to the torch as soon as it was cleared of enemy troops. Only the roads were left intact. The smoking rubble left no place for the creeps to hide. When they tried to run, they were cut down; if they remained where they were, hoping to avoid Rebel detection, they were either crushed to death under the treads of tanks or burned alive.

The Believers practiced a barbaric and savage way of life, and the Rebels gave them exactly that on their way to death. Many of the creeps had heard how ruthless Ben Raines was. Most did not believe it. Most expected to be taken prisoner and housed and fed and their wounds attended to. Then, when the Rebels had left, the creeps could resume their hideous way of life.

The creeps soon learned, very quickly and quite painfully, that Ben Raines had absolutely no intention of allowing their way of life to continue. Many of the creeps began to curse their leaders for getting them into this predicament. But their leaders did not do it.

Just as with the criminal who tries to blame society for his misfortune, that worn-out excuse was not acceptable. They were forced to face the fact that as individuals they were solely to blame.

Two more blocks were taken, and Ben and his battalion linked up with Tina and West at Wood-side. Behind them, what was left of Menlo Park was obscured from view by the flames and the smoke that soared into the skies.

”All artillery up to this position,” Ben told Corrie. ”All planes capable of carrying payloads resume dropping napalm on the city.

Group all my people on 101. We're moving towardthe airport right now.”

Corrie relayed the orders and Ike came on the horn. ”Lots of creepies over that way, Ben.”

”There won't be in about two hours,” Ben told him. ”Let's go, people. My next CP will be on the tarmac of the San Carlos airport.”

Chapter Seven.

Heavy machine-gun fire stopped the advance of Ben's team in Redwood City.

”Forward observers out,” Ben ordered. ”And tell them to get it right the first time. We're too close for mistakes.”

They were so close that the ground beneath their feet began to tremble as the 105's and 155's pounded the target area just ahead of them. With a range of twelve miles, the huge 155mm self-propelled howitzers dropped in high explosives with deadly accuracy. The 90mm cannon that some Piranhas were equipped with began barking and biting as the 81mm mortars rained in death. The air over the heads of the Rebels began howling and fluttering and screaming as the deadly mail started arriving in the city.

With one long block turned to b.l.o.o.d.y rubble, the FO'S called in corrections and the Rebels moved forward as the gunners corrected elevation and began a new onslaught. The creeps were shoved back, back toward the burning city north of them.

”We're going to shove them all the way back into the city proper,” Ben told those around him. ”Then we're going to seal it off, west to east, and start tossing incendiaries in on them. But we've got about twenty miles of hard slogging to go before we can do that.”

Beth was doing some fast figuring with a hand calculator. ”The city is about eight miles wide and about that deep, if we plan to push all the way up to Daly City. Our artillery will handle that easily.”

Ben studied an old map of the region. ”Let's take another block, gang.”

The Rebels clawed their way through the rubble that littered the streets. Ben and his contingent stayed along 101 while General Striganov and his people crossed over and started up 280. Rebet and Danjou and their battalions began punching up the area between the two main highways.

It was grim, slow work. Artillery would soften up a block, then the Rebels would move forward, working building to building, house to house, oftentimes engaging in very close combat. Since the creepies were so highly infectious, and Ben did not want his people needlessly exposed to some dreadful, incurable disease, he soon called a halt to the advance, along all fronts.

Ike and Cecil were across the Bay, slowly burning their way south, destroying everything in their path.

”Get Georgi on the horn for me, Corrie,”

Ben said. ”Something's got to give here and it isn't going to be us.”

The Russian who had once been a mortal enemyof the Rebels came on the radio. Years back Ben and Georgi had fought each other from the Mississippi River to the northern California coast.

”We're going to have to hold up, Georgi. We just can't risk infection. Some of our people are getting blood-splattered from close-in fighting. Hold what you've got until we can get flame-t.o.s.s.e.rs up here for the troops and give those tanks with the capability time to fuel up.”

”I am in complete agreement, Ben. I'll stand my people down immediately.”

The Rebels broke for a well-deserved rest while trucks ran the burning and rubbled streets bringing in backpack flamethrowers for the troops and mix for the tanks.

”Still plan on making the San Carlos airport by this afternoon, General?” Cooper asked.

”You bet, Coop.” A dozen main battle tanks rumbled up, hatches closed. Ben used the outside phone on the lead tank. ”You flame-equipped?”

”That's ten-four, sir.”

”Spearhead us.” He hung up and turned to Cooper. ”You bring the wagon up, Coop. I'm going ahead on foot. Let's go!”

His team spread out behind the tanks and followed them in. The bodyguards a.s.signed to protect Ben could do nothing to stop him. How do you tell the commanding general he can't do something? They fell in with him and surged forward.

The rattle of machine-gun fire came from a building with a faded sign, SPORTING GOODS, painted on the front of the bricks. The slugs howled off the armor of the MBT and the tank clanked around, lowering its cannon. The muzzle spewed liquid fire, engulfing those inside in flames. The screaming of the torched lasted only a moment as their brains cooked and their heads exploded from the buildup of steam inside the skulls.

”Mop up!” Ben shouted, and a team lanced the smoking interior of the old building with automatic-weapons fire.

”Ben!” Linda yelled. ”Up the street. North.

They're charging us.”

Several hundred yards away, the street was clogged with running, screaming creepies, howling their fury as they came in a suicide charge.

A dozen .50-caliber machine guns, a dozen 7.62 machine guns, a hundred M-16's, one shotgun, and one old Thunder Lizard-caliber .308, in the hands of Ben Raines combbgan yammering. The Believers came in waves of rage and perversion and died in b.l.o.o.d.y piles of stinking filth.

”Up on the tanks,” Ben shouted, jumping up and crouching behind the commander's cupola. ”Let's go!”

The tanks all had bags of sand and dirt piled and secured around the turrets, the Rebels jumped onand crouched down as the tanks lumbered forward. They all tried not to listen as the steel treads of the fifty-plus-ton tanks crushed any life left out of the piles of creeps in the street.

They crossed another street and came to a halt.

Steel railroad tracks had been welded in sections, completely blocking the street.

The tank commander opened the hatch and poked his head out.

”Go around it, General?”

”Negative. It appears that's what they want us to do. The other streets seem clear, so they've probably got them mined. Use HE and punch through.”

The commander clanked his hatch shut and Ben hollered, ”Get down, people-down!”

From a half a dozen tanks 90mm and 105mm cannon roared and the barricade was ripped apart. Ben cut his eyes upward and then slid off the tank and grabbed up the phone. ”Elevate your cannon. The creeps are waiting for us on the rooftops with satchel charges.”