Part 25 (1/2)

”Hold it!” Bull yelled, as the gang leaders started to panic. ”Just hold it for a second. If it's gas, and I'll bet it isn't, there ain't no way any of us could get far enough away to do any good.

So just calm down and wait this out. Let's see what develops.”

They waited. They were jumpy and wide-eyed but they waited.

”The Rebels is s.h.i.+ftin' people around,” the radiooperator said. ”They're pullin' back to the east of us. They've left Highway 107 south wide open.”

”That don't make no sense,” d.i.c.ky of the Blades said.

”Yeah,” Ishmal of the Boogies agreed. ”Why would they do something stupid like that?”

”The Russian son of a b.i.t.c.h is pullin' out too,” the radioman yelled. ”They're gettin'

into trucks and leavin'. The Rebels is all s.h.i.+ftin' around. The Russian is headin' back east on the freeway. What the h.e.l.l's goin'

on?”

Leroy's lips peeled back in a snarl as his eyes touched Rich, who was smirking at him. ”Why don't you tell us, white boy?”

”Okay, I'll do that. But if you're thinkin' gas, forget it. Unless you fart. Look here, boys. The Rebels is tryin' to sucker us south. They've left a buffer of ten or twelve blocks of no-man's-land between us and them, all the way around.

And a line of Rebels north of us, stretched out west to east. And it has to be a thin line. That's our ticket out of here, boys. That's where we slide through.”

”For a honky, you ain't but half stupid,”

Leroy said. ”You right. We got no choice in the matter. We got to head north.”

”But not all of us,” Bull said, speaking the d.a.m.ning words.

”What you mean?” Ishmal asked.

”All of us pulling out would be a dead giveaway,”

Brute said. ”But it isn't as dismal as it sounds.”

”It ain't?” Sally asked.

”No, dear, it isn't. The fair way to do this is to draw lots.”

”I don't need no property,” Junkyard said.

Brute sighed. ”Dear G.o.d,” he whispered. ”I have cast my fate to the winds, and am on a vessel crewed by cretins.” He cleared his throat. ”We will draw straws, cut cards, or toss pennies to see who goes north and who heads south.”

”Oh,” Junkyard said.

”Now then, any move we make had best be started tonight,” Brute continued. ”Those of us heading south will pretend to be taking the bait offered by the Rebels.

When you get halfway between L.a. and San Diego, cut straight east, break up into small groups, and disappear. Get rid of your gang colors and bury them. Forget them. Occupy farm houses and chew tobacco, hum hillbilly music, scratch at yourselves and look outdoorsy if Rebel patrols find you. There is a good chance many of us will make it. All who elect to go to the barren and hostile wilderness, a.k.a. Alaska, will rendezvous ... oh, let's see ... in Central Nevada as quickly as possible. Everyone agreed on that?””We got short-wave equipment,” Bull said.

”Our rendezvous code word will be ... what? Come up with something, Brute.”

Brute smiled. ”Miami.”

”That's a good one. Let's start cuttin' the cards.”

”What are we gonna do out there?”

Ruth of the Macys asked, waving her hand toward the countryside. ”I ain't been out of the city in years.

What the h.e.l.l is out there?”

”Ben Raines,” Josh said glumly.

Chapter Two.

The Rebel planes had taken off, some of them to resupply Rebel units, most of them to take freed prisoners to Base Camp One for medical treatment. The Rebels loosely surrounding the small area of the city still in hands of the street punks took a break to bathe, eat hot food, change into clean uniforms, and rest. Rest the body and the ears, now that the artillery had fallen silent.

”You know that a lot of them will bust out of the city tonight,”

Buddy said to his father.

”It can't be helped, son. We're down to only a few artillery rounds per gun. We've used thousands of rounds during this a.s.sault and the factory back at Base One can't keep up with the demand.

It'll be at least a week before the supply can be built up.”

”Take a guess, Father. How many of the punks who bust out of the city will settle down and stop their lawless ways?”

”Not many. Percentage-wise? Five to ten percent, maybe. These are hardcore punks.”

”They're sure to find out about the outlaws gathering in Alaska.”

”We'll have a fight up there, for sure. But we'll have all winter to gear up for it. When we pull out for Northstar, we'll be fully prepared. Even better prepared than we were for this a.s.sault.”

Darkness had settled softly over the land, and the Rebels camped between Yuma and Mexicali rested.

Ben sat outside his tent, waiting for Corrie to tell him the punks were bugging out of the city ... and in which direction they were heading. He'd made a mental bet with himself that some would head south, and some would head north. How far south they would go was something he could not know. But if he were in their shoes, he would take the bait and wait until they were in a very isolated area, then cut hard to the east and try to find a hidey-hole.

Using a flashlight, he studied a map. They would break east between Oceanside and Del Mar, splitting up into small groups and taking that maze of county roads that led over to 78 and I-15.

”Punks are bugging out, General,” Corrie called. ”Heading south.”

Ben did not ask for numbers; there was no wayto tell. ”Corrie, have Seven and Eight Battalions stay in position and order West to leave immediately. Head straight down I-15.

Tell him we are leaving within the hour and by dawn will be in position just east of Escondido on Highway 78. He is to leave the Interstate at the junction of 76 and spread his people along that route.

I'll spread my forces on either side of Santa Ysabel. Advise General Payon of our plans and order all personnel to break camp.”