Part 14 (1/2)
”Ten-four.”
Rani sat it out, watching the highway from behind a shattered window in what had once been a nice home. She saw a dozen vehicles pa.s.s by her position, all heading north. She did not move for several minutes. Then she smiled as she saw a dozen more vehicles drive slowly past, heading north. The second line of cars and trucks, she concluded, belonged to the folks from Lamesa.
It was not that Rani didn't want good homes for those kids in her car. It was just that she didn't trust people. She'd been burned too many times by people professing to be this, that, or the other.
Her thoughts were interrupted by an excited Robert.
”Miss Rani!” the boy said. ”They's cases and cases and cases of food down in the bas.e.m.e.nt of this place.”
”What were you doing in the bas.e.m.e.nt?” she spoke, more sharply than she intended.
”Exploring,” the boy said, hanging his head.
She went to him and put her arms around his slender shoulders. ”I'm sorry, Robert. I didn't mean to be cross with you. Let's look at this food.” She kissed his cheek. ”I'm proud of you, Robert.”
Ben caught the movement to his right and twisted the steering wheel just as the man fired. The slug whined off the camper of the truck. Ben floor-boarded the truck and ducked behind a building. Grabbing his Thompson, he said, ”Shoot anybody that sticks their head up, Jordy. Understand?”
”Yes, sir. I'll blow their a.s.s off.”
”That's as good a place as any to shoot them, I suppose,” Ben said, not able to hide his grin.
Ben slipped along the rear of the old store. He heard boots sc.r.a.ping the pea gravel near the corner and smiled, raising the Thompson, finger on the trigger.
”Easy, now,” a voice came to him. ”I don't want that fancy truck all shot up. And take the kid alive.”
”Yeah,” a second voice said in a hoa.r.s.e whisper. ”Clean-lookin' kid lak ”at's worth a lot of guns.”
Ben's smile turned savage at the vocal implications of what lay in store for Jordy if the men took him. The men rounded the corner and Ben pulled the trigger, firing at almost point-blank range, and he deliberately held the muzzle low, at crotch-level.
He took the men's guns and ammo, and left them screaming and bleeding on the gravel. Here were two who would molest no more children. And Ben hoped they would live a long and totally s.e.xless life. p.i.s.sing through ahose.
Dumping the guns and ammo in the rear of the camper, Ben picked up an M-16 and a pouch of clips.
Slipping to the front corner of the building, Ben located a gun in the second story of an old building; the glint of cold sunlight flas.h.i.+ng off a stainless steel barrel gave the man's position away. Ben flipped his M-16 to semi-auto and sighted the man in. He shot the man in the center of his face, the man dropping his rifle to the ground. The fancy rifle landed b.u.t.t first and went off, discharging half a clip of ammo, the lead slamming into trees and buildings and into the air.
”Lennie got 'im!” came the excited shout.
”Come on, boys.”
Ben slipped his M-16 to full auto and waited. A knot of men came charging around a corner. They stopped, confused looks on their faces. They stood all bunched up, standing over Lennie's carbine.
”Lennie didn't git him, neither,” a man said.
That was the last thing any of them would say or hear, except for the stuttering of an M-16 on full auto.
And they would hear that only briefly.
Ben let them flop on the ground for a few minutes, then he slipped the M-16 onto select fire and put two rounds into each of the bodies. He waited another full minute before zigzagging across the street to gather up their ammo.
Only one of the men had been carrying an M-16 that looked worth a s.h.i.+t, and Ben took that. Each man was carrying several full clips of 5.56 ammo.
Ben tossed the rifle and ammo in the camper and looked at Jordy.
”How's it going, little man?”
”Hangin” in, Ben.”
Ben checked his map and took a county road out of Rails, heading south. He flipped on his CB radio and was startled to hear all the chatter jumping out at him. He listened carefully, knowing those CB radios must have been jacked up with boosters, giving them a tremendous range.
What he heard was disturbing. Someone named Texas Red, a warlord, was teaming up with another warlord named Cowboy Vic, or some such stupid name.
”Like I said, Ben,” Jordy said. ”Warlords is everywhere.”
”Yes. But who, or what, is Rani?”
”Sounds like a dumb girl to me.”
”Listen.”
”... and I hear tell that Jake Campo is headin' this way, too,” the voice spoke. ”He's teamed up with some guy named West.”
Ben grunted. ”I knew I should have killed that b.a.s.t.a.r.d when I had the chance.”
”West?” Jordy asked.
”Yes. He's sc.u.m.”
”They chasin' General Ben Raines, so I hear,” another voice offered an opinion. ”Raines and his Rebels are in Texas?”
”No. Way I heared it, it's just Raines and some snot-nosed punk kid he picked up along the way.”
”f.u.c.k you!” Jordy said to the radio.
”How would you like for me to wash your mouth out with soap, boy?” Ben said, looking at him.
”Yukkk!” Jordy said.
”Then watch your language.”
”By hisself, or with a bunch,” a man said, ”Ben Raines is a bad one. I don't want to fool with him. Not none at all.”
”You don't believe all that s.h.i.+t about him being some kind of G.o.d, do you?”'
”I don't know,” the man's voice was serious.
”I heard too many tales about him for some of them not to be true.”