Chase pushed through the crowd, took one look at the child, and turned to Ben. "Finish her, Ben. For the love of G.o.d, put her out of her misery."

Ben's hand dropped to the b.u.t.t of his .45, carried c.o.c.ked and locked. He hesitated.

"Ben," Chase said, "the medics are fifteen minutes behind. The d.a.m.n truck broke down. I don't have anything with me to do the job."

The girl began screaming, the terrible pain ripping through her ravaged body.

"G.o.dd.a.m.nit, Ben!" Chase yelled. "Shoot her!"

Ben jerked out his .45, placed the muzzle close to the child's head, and muttered, "May G.o.d have mercy on my soul."

He pulled the trigger, ending the child's agony. Ben holstered the weapon and walked outside.

Beth had gone outside to find a clean blanket to cover the ravaged body. She paused at the sight of Ben, kneeling between the buildings, his hands covering his face. He was alone, and crying.

The Rebels avoided Ben the rest of that morning, for they all knew that h.e.l.l on earth was about to break loose. They got a small reminder of how enraged Ben was when he ordered a dozen creepie prisoners into a wooden shed.

"Douse it with gas and set it on fire," he ordered. "Any troop who shoots an escaping creepie to put him or her out of their misery will face a court-martial."

The building went up with a roar. The screaming of the burning creepies could be clearly heard over the howling flames. Several broke out of the inferno, running b.a.l.l.s of fire. They fell on the ground and beat their hands and feet against the earth, howling out their misery.

The Rebels stood in silent lines, watching and listening. No one lifted a weapon to end the screaming. No one really wanted to.

The unmistakable and unforgettable smell of charred human flesh clung dose to the earth. The day had turned out gloomy and overcast, the threat of rain evident.

When the last echoes of the wailing had died out, Ben turned to Corrie. His inner rage was still burning out of control. "b.u.mp all commanders. I want prisoners from all sectors. I want to know if any outlaws or warlords or whatever those lousy motherf.u.c.kers call themselves have been dealing with the Night P.".

"Yes, sir!" She got the h.e.l.l gone from that area in a hurry.

The Rebels looked at one another, each man and woman knowing that things were going to get very interesting, very quickly.

Leadfoot whispered to Axehandle. "The general is p.i.s.sed." "No kidding?" Axe returned the whisper. "I never would have guessed."

Wanda said, "I ain't never seen him this mad.

Boy, he looks like the wrath of G.o.d, don't he?"

"That's plumb poetic, Wanda," Beerbelly said.

"You ought to be the one to say something when we bury that poor little girl."

"The general's gonna bury her over yonder in the woods," Lamply said, pointing. "He asked me to pick out the spot and I found a real pretty place." He looked around the silent and stinking compound. "I hate these d.a.m.n creepies, and anybody who does business with them. I figure the general is gonna go on a rampage now. We all think we seen action before. I got a hunch that we ain't seen nothin' yet."

That remark would soon prove to be a very great understatement.

Planes began landing at the secured airstrip and taking the survivors back to clean zones, most of them heading back to Base Camp One. Nearly all were in bad shape mentally. Some of the women had been held for years, used as breeders. Most of them were near total mental collapse.

Chase walked through a lightly falling mist, over to Ben, who was squatting under the low branches of a tree, sipping at a mug of coffee.

He waited until the sound of a plane taking off died away before speaking. "With this . . . shipment," the doctor said with a sigh, "our facilities at Base One will be strained to overflowing."

"We'll build more," Ben said, without looking up.

"We are desperately short of qualified doctors."

"That is your department. Mine is war."

"I don't need you to tell me what my job entails!" the doctor snapped. "I've been doing it for a good many years.

Ben stood up, the weight of command heavy on him.

"Lamar, I can't snap my fingers and produce psychologists and psychiatrists out of the air. On the other hand, I can't just turn these . . .

survivors loose to fend for themselves. They wouldn't last twenty-four hours. All we can do is give them a secure place to live, with adequate food and clothing, and try to mend their minds as we get to them. If we have to jack down the more unruly ones with Thorazine to keep them stable, that's still better than what they had. Our success rate with these types is not good, but it's all we can do with what we have. Ol'

buddy, I know how thin we are, and we're going to get thinner before it starts turning around." He paused as the last planeload of survivors took off. "Get your people rounded up, we're pulling out."

Ben walked away from the doctor and over to the bikers. "Leadfoot, you spearhead up I-Fifteen. Dusters will be behind you so don't try to break any speed records. I'll be coming up behind the tanks with the people here, while the rest of the battalion takes on Pocatello from the north. Shoot any creepie on sight. No pity, no mercy, no prisoners. Take off and stay in radio contact."

Ben walked off, hollering for his team to gather around him.

"I told you it was gonna get busy around here,"

Lamply said.

Leadfoot checked his Uzi and the grenades hooked onto his battle harness. "Let's go, boys and girls. And keep in your mind the picture of that little girl we just buried. That'll make the job a whole lot easier."

The bikers. .h.i.t a manned roadblock at what was left of a tiny hamlet just off 1-15. The bikers smashed through and destroyed the creepies before the Dusters could even get to the scene. The bikers were piling up the bodies and pouring gasoline on their stinking carca.s.ses just as Ben rolled up and got out.

He stood for a moment, surveying the scene. "Good work," he complimented them. "Take any hits?"

"Sonny took a round through the leg,"

Leadfoot said. "He's over yonder gettin'

patched up. Wanda got her Hog shot out from under her and busted her a.s.s. Didn't hurt the Hog none.

We killed forty creepies."

Ben nodded. "You feel like continuing the spearheading?"

A wicked look sprang into the biker's eyes.

"I wanna be the first one to ride into Pocatello and stick the muzzle of an Uzi up a creepie's a.s.s, General."

Ben smiled at the Rebel-biker. "We'll follow you, Leadfoot."

The light mist was still falling as the bikers roared out, heading north up the Interstate. They hit no more roadblocks and pulled over two miles south of the silent city.

"Our people are in place north of the city," Corrie informed Ben. "Gunners have the coordinates and are ready for your orders."

"Have our troops spread out along the west side of the Portneuf River and the northwest side of the Snake," Ben said. "Heavy machine gun emplacements at all crossings. Let me know when that has been completed," he got out of the wagon and walked up the old Highway to where the bikers were sitting by their Hogs.

"We'll have our gunners soften up the city for us,"

he told them. "Then we'll personally go in and finish off any who survive the bombardment."

"Sounds good to me," Wanda said.

"What's the other battalions doin," General?"

Beer-belly asked.

"Waiting for us. I told them all to hold what they've got. Well overwhelm these b.a.s.t.a.r.ds by sheer force."

Ben chatted with the bikers until Corrie got word to him that all troops were in position and machine gun emplacements set up.

"Commence firing," Ben ordered.

The area between the Portneuf River and 1-15 erupted in flames as the tanks and self-propelled artillery began pounding it with HE, WP, and napalm. Scouts soon reported they had taken the airport, located just off 1-86, and were busy clearing a runway for the resupply planes to use. Three hours after the bombardment started, planes were landing at the field.

"He sure cuts it close, don't he?" Wanda remarked. "d.a.m.n city is under siege and he's orderin" planes in through the smoke. Them pilots must have ice water for blood."

"Cease fire," Ben ordered. "Let's go in, people."

What wasn't lying in ruins was burning and those creepies who survived the intense sh.e.l.ling were running for their lives. They ran straight into the guns of the advancing Rebels.

The advancing Rebels were savage in their seeking out and destroying of the cannibals. Tank commanders deliberately ran down many they could have much more easily shot, crushing the Night People under the treads.

And all over the state, the outlaws and warlords listened to the reports coming out of the ravaged city with fear touching them with a cold hand. This was not like any battle they had ever fought. The Rebels were fighting with dark revenge in their hearts.

A small percentage of the men and women under the command of the thugs, outlaws, and warlords tried to leave. They soon found themselves looking into the cold eyes of Rebels who had gone in search of prisoners to interrogate.

And they found out the hard way that Ben Raines's Rebels got what they wanted from prisoners . .

. easy or hard, it didn't make them the slightest bit of difference. One could be treated decently and speak into a mic while the PSE machines picked up on stress points in their voice, or if one was hostile and uncooperative, the other option was to be pumped full of truth serums and the information gotten that way.

Those who confessed to having direct dealings with the creepies over the years were promptly taken out and shot or hanged, depending on the mood of the Rebels who took them.

"The leader of the Starlighters is squalling on the horn," Corrie told Ben. "He wants to make a deal with us."

"What does the voice a.n.a.lysis show?"

"That he's lying through his teeth about never dealing with the creepies"

"Advise him that the only deal he's going to get from me is either a rope or a bullet. I don't make deals with crud."

Francis really started squalling when he heard that.

"We had to survive!" the leader of the b.l.o.o.d.y Bandits hollered over the air. "We had to make deals with them. They outnumber us."

And on and on and so forth came the pleas from all around the state. Except for the outlaw leader in the interior of the state. And Ben was curious about that.

"b.u.mp him," Ben ordered, just after the evening meal.

The fires in the city still raged with only an occasional gunshot now. The Rebels were bivouacked in and around what was left of the small town of American Falls. "Let's find out who he is and what he represents."

It didn't take long for Ben to learn all he needed to know about Red Manlovich.

"I ain't no cannibal and I never dealt with them, Raines," Red radioed. "But I hate your a.s.s as much as I do them cannibals down south."

"Why?" Ben asked.

"Bunches of reasons. You're a d.a.m.n n.i.g.g.e.r-lover for one reason. And you got too G.o.dd.a.m.n many rules for me to live with."

"We have far less rules and regulations than the government had before us. And as far as my bending over backward for people of other races, you're wrong. There are plenty of blacks and Hispanics and people of other races who despise me."

"Good for them. If I ever run up on one I'll shake his hand before I kill him."

Ben shook his head at Corrie. "He's hopeless. In his own way, he's as bad as the creepies." Ben lifted the mic.

"Surrender now, Manlovich, and there is a good chance you'll live. Fight us, and you'll die."

"Then come and get me, Raines," was the shouted defiant reply.

"I certainly shall," Ben told him, then added, "a.s.shole." He handed the mic back to Corrie, who was laughing at the expression on Ben's face.

"We take the next stretch of the Interstate in the morning. Get me a fix on Ike's position."

She got Ike's communication truck and handed the mic to Ben just as Ike was patched through.

"How's it goin', Ben?"

"Pocatello is gone and so are a lot of creepies. What's your position, Ike?"

"About thirty-five miles outside of Mountain Home. To the northeast."

"Take it in the morning, Ike. I'm pushing off at dawn, heading in your direction."

"That's ten-four, Ben. Consider it done. Where do you want to link up?"

"Twin Falls."

"See you there, ol' buddy. Shark out." "Patch me through to Dan, Corrie."

"Good evening, General," Dan's voice came through the speaker.

Ben smiled at the ever-formal Englishman's greeting. "What is your position, Dan?"