Judgment in the Ashes, page 23
TWELVE
The point man looked around him, alert eyes sweeping his surroundings. The morning had dawned bright and clear and Runkel and his group had pushed on. The point man was working about a hundred yards ahead of the small single-file column. He turned his head and lifted his right arm to give the “come on” signal when a crushing blow struck him in the chest. He sat down hard on the ground. In the minute he had before dying, he cursed Ben Raines soundly before toppling over, facedown on the wet grass.
The bullet had nicked his heart before passing on through his body and blowing out his back. The man died without ever asking God to forgive him.
“Damn!” Runkel muttered from his hiding place in the tall meadow grass. “How in the hell did they find us so quickly?”
The gentle wind sighed its mysterious reply.
Another of Runkel’s men broke under the strain. He jumped up and began screaming and cursing and firing his weapon in all directions.
“Get down, you idiot!” Runkel yelled.
Jenny’s rifle cracked and Runkel watched as the soldier sank to his knees, then toppled over, his weapon dropping from lifeless hands. He fell over on his side, his unblinking eyes staring straight at Runkel.
For the first time in his professional soldier’s life, Colonel Hugo Runkel knew he was going to die. There was no doubt in his mind. For years he had been hearing about Ben Raines, the man, the legend, the myth. He had been certain .99 percent had been lies. Now he knew better.
Ben Raines was everything people had insisted he was: lucky, a man’s man, a solid solider, relentless, ruthless.
“And a dyed-in-the-wool son of a bitch,” Runkel added, muttering softly.
“Sir?” his one remaining ranking sergeant asked, lying a few feet away.
“Nothing, Sergeant,” Runkel told him. “Just cursing our luck.”
“I think it’s run out, Colonel.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, Sergeant, and as a commander it’s something I should never do, but I think you just might be right in that assumption.”
“I have pinpointed the location of one of them, sir!” one of Runkel’s men called, not taking the binoculars from his eyes. “It’s the woman, and she’s moving away, heading out toward the east. Now she’s disappeared from view.”
“Thank you, Thomas,” Runkel replied, cutting his eyes to his sergeant, who was scanning the other side of the meadow with his own binoculars. “See anything, Sergeant?”
“I did catch a flash of something, Colonel. Moving toward the east. I think it was General Raines.”
Runkel smiled grimly. “In twenty-four hours, those two have cut our strength by twenty-five percent. Perhaps they’re taking a rest break.”
“Do we bury the men, sir?” another called.
“No, Aaron, we do not. Sergeant, start the men working toward that ravine to our left. That will give us some protection from the sniper fire. We’ll follow it until it peters out. Stay on your bellies, people. To rise up means death.”
“Move them out now, sir?”
“Move them out now, Sergeant.”
An hour later, there had been no more deadly fire from either side of the meadow, and Runkel and his men were huddled together in the ravine. The protective ravine had run its course, and it was a hundred yard dash to the timber. There was no cover between the ravine and the timber’s edge. The men were eye-balling the timber through nervous eyes.
Runkel was entertaining thoughts of suggesting the men split up once they reached the dubious safety of the timber. He crawled over to his sergeant and broached the idea to him.
The sergeant shook his head. “I had the same thoughts, sir. One or two of us might make it that way; probably would make it. But the men? . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t think they’ll go for it. They’re scared, sir. A few have reached the point of falling apart. Put them on their own, in pairs, and they’re dead men for sure.”
“We’re dead men any way you slice the cake, Brodrick,” Runkel said in a whisper.
“I know, Colonel. I know. Which is why I believe . . .” The sergeant hesitated.
“Go on, Brodrick. This is no time to stand on rank. Speak your mind.”
“Attack, sir. The next time they start sniping at us, we determine one of their positions, and attack. We might well all die doing it, but it’s better than dying this way, and, who knows, we might get lucky.”
Runkel thought about that for a moment, then slowly nodded his head in agreement. “All right, Brodrick. You’ve discussed this with the men?”
“No, sir. But I have heard them talking. It’s what they want. They want to die as soldiers.”
And die we will, Runkel thought, but he did not put that thought into words. “Collect and then divvy up the ammunition and grenades. When that is done, we’ll move out.”
“Yes, sir.”
The decision seemed to lift the pall that had been settling over the men like a stinking shroud. They were soldiers again, not just sheep waiting around to be led off one by one to the slaughter.
Runkel started again to count the men left, then stopped himself with a grimace. He knew exactly how many men he had left: fifteen, counting himself.
He looked over at his sergeant and the man nodded. “Ready, sir.”
Runkel stood up. “Let’s go find General Raines and his whore.”
Ben and Jenny were two miles ahead of the colonel, lying in wait on a ridge, looking down at a flowering meadow filled with blossoms, waving gently in the warm breeze. The rain that had passed on east during the night had brought out nature’s beauty in full bloom.
This time they were both on the same ridge, about fifty yards apart, relaxing in the sun, waiting for Runkel to show. It was the only way the colonel could go, for there were towering mountains in front and behind the pass, and a swift running stream gurgling down the center. Once Runkel and his men entered the pass, they could either retreat or die. Neither Ben nor Jenny had given any thought to Runkel mounting an attack.
And that mistake came close to costing them both their lives.
THIRTEEN
The first warning that something just might be wrong came when Ben, searching the terrain through binoculars, caught very furtive motion at the far end of the meadow. He studied the area for a moment, trying to get another glimpse, and was just about to pass it all off as his imagination, when another darting shape flitted through the long lenses for just a second and then was gone. The men were behaving . . . well, in a peculiar manner.
Jenny had moved closer, and was now about twenty-five yards away, relaxing under the warm sun. Ben called to her and she was instantly alert.
“What’s up, Ben? And keep it clean, will you?”
Ben smiled at that and motioned to the meadow below. “Company, Jenny. But I get the impression they’re taking the offensive this time around.”
“The offensive?”
“Yeah,” Ben called, the binoculars still held to his eyes. “There’s another. They’re working our way and keeping close to our side, staying in the rocks.” Ben lowered the binoculars. “I think Runkel has decided to start behaving like a soldier.”
Jenny hesitated a moment before asking, “Why now, Ben?”
“That slight hesitation tells me you already know the answer, Jenny.”
Again, she hesitated. “Are we getting ready for a last stand, Ben?”
“Both sides are, Jenny.”
“Then this fight might prove to be very interesting.”
“I think you’re safe in saying that,” Ben’s reply was very drily offered.
“Any orders, boss-man?”
“Take a good drink of water and then start laying out grenades and extra ammo within easy reach, but safely away from any stray bullets. We’ve got a good spot to defend, but we’re limited in movement. Once it starts, Jenny, we’re stuck right here. We have to either win it, or die.”
“But we’ve got the high ground.”
“That’s about the only thing we’ve got going for us. Runkel’s got fifteen/eighteen men. And that just isn’t very good odds for us. They’ll be fighting as desperate men with nothing to lose, so we’ve got to maintain a cold, clear head.”
“All right, Ben.”
“The grenades have a five-to-six-second fuse on them. Remember that. It’s going to be up to you to decide when to lay aside that .30-06 and start using that automatic weapon we took from Runkel’s man. You’ve got six thirty-round spare magazines and one full one in place. That gives you two hundred and ten rounds to blow through that short-barreled bastard. I can but assume that as a former militia member you’ve fired weapons on full auto?”
“You’d be safe in saying that, Ben,” her reply was tinged with sarcasm.
“That’s what I figured.”
She smiled sweetly at him. “I thought you were always in favor of citizen militias?”
“I was and am. Why?”
“Just wondering, Big Boy.”
Ben looked at her and shook his head in mock exasperation. “Women!” he said.
“Men!” she said.
Then they laughed at each other and began settling down, laying out grenades and spare ammo. That done, Ben munched on a cracker and Jenny ate a handful of wild berries she had picked that morning and kept in a tin. They waited.
“Jenny?”
“What?”
“We could always haul our butts out of here, you know. It doesn’t have to turn into a last stand for us.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“Not really. Might as well settle it now, I suppose.”
“I’m with you on that. No point in talking about them is there?”
“I guess not.”
Both of them began scanning the area with binoculars. Ben broke the silence by saying, “When this is over, I want to take a sauna in that place of yours. And several hot baths.”
“Do the latter first,” she replied with a smile. “You’re getting a little gamey.”
“You ain’t no rose yourself, lady.”
She laughed, knowing the truth in both remarks. Their clothing was filthy, and their hair needed a good washing . . . several times. When you reach the point where you can smell yourself, you need a bath.
“Heads up!” Ben said. “They’re getting a little bolder now. I don’t believe they know for sure we’re here.”
“Then they’re stupid. Past this point, the way opens up and is clear for miles.”
“But they don’t know that, Jenny. As a matter of fact, neither did I.”
“I wish you hadn’t brought up a hot bath, Ben. I’m beginning to itch.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me if both of us had fleas.”
She grimaced at that thought.
“I wish I knew just what was happening along our fronts,” Ben said.
“We’ll either know the whole story in a few hours, or we won’t know anything at all until we stand before God.”
“What a cheerful thought!”
“You ever think about God, Ben?”
He lowered his binoculars to see if she was serious. She was. “From time to time, yes.”
“Then you believe in Heaven and Hell?”
“Yes, I do. At least I believe in some form of Hereafter.”
“Me, too. You go to church, Ben?”
“No. But I do attend the chaplain’s field services occasionally.”
“But I bet you were raised in the church.”
“Sure. You?”
“Oh, yes. You probably passed right through the little town where I went to school and attended church. But if you blinked your eyes twice you missed it.”
“Any brothers and sisters?”
“They’re all dead. You?”
“They’re all dead. Killed in the germ attack during the Great War. Except for one brother.”
“What happened to him?”
“I killed him years ago. He came up into the old Tri-States to kill me. Damn near succeeded, too.”
“How awful! But why would he do such a thing?”
“He was a Nazi, Jenny; a member of some sort of minority-hating group. We never were close and I didn’t realize he had changed so over the years. He grew to hate me and everything the Tri-States stood for.”
Jenny said nothing in reply, and Ben suspected it was because she didn’t quite know what to say. Then he cut his eyes to the woman and she was silently crying, the tears spilling down her tanned cheeks. After a moment, she pulled a bandanna from a hip pocket and wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
“If you’re all through blubbering, we’ve got a battle to fight,” Ben said.
“Screw you, Raines!” She honked into the handkerchief again and then wiped her nose on her sleeve as a child would do. She looked like a little girl who has just lost her favorite doll.
Ben chuckled at her.
“What’s so damn funny?”
“You.”
“When we get back to the cabin, you can take a damn sauna by yourself, you insensitive jackass!”
Ben’s chuckling turned into open laughter.
“Asshole!” Jenny muttered. Then she hiccupped and Ben roared with laughter.
Luckily, Runkel and his men were still hundreds of yards away. But they were closing the distance rapidly.
“About three more minutes, Jenny,” Ben said, sobering quickly as he lowered his binoculars.
Jenny wiped her eyes one more time, stuck the soggy handkerchief in her back pocket, and lifted her long lenses. She studied the situation for a moment, then laid the binoculars aside and picked up her rifle. “I’m ready.” She cut her eyes toward Ben. “Why do men think it’s unmanly to cry, Ben?”
“I don’t think that way at all, Jenny. I just don’t cry very often. I guess a lot of men do their grieving differently. I did my grieving for my brother a long time ago. Do I wish things could have been different? Sure, I do. But I can’t change what happened.” Ben lifted his glasses. “Well, hell, Jenny, they’ve stopped. I guess they’re talking things over.”
“Gettin’ suspicious, I reckon. It’s been easy for them so far this day.”
“A couple of hundred more yards and we can start the dance.”
“You like to dance, Ben?”
The question startled him. Then he smiled, knowing they were talking to relieve the growing tension that always comes before a hard battle. “I used to dance. Used to like to dance, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“It’s been so long I don’t remember. I don’t do any of the dances that were popular a decade or so before the Great War.”
“I don’t either. Never called all that jumpin’ around like a bunch of wild monkeys dancin.’ But I did used to love to square dance.”
“Yeah,” Ben said wistfully. “I remember square dancing when I was a kid. Couple of times each month, on a Saturday night, families would gather at the VFW hall for supper and dancing. I’d forgotten all about that. It was a long time ago,” he added softly.
“Don’t families still do that in the SUSA, Ben?”
“Why . . . I imagine they do, Jenny. But the SUSA is a very large nation, and commanding generals and presidents of countries just don’t get invited, I suppose.”
“Would you go if someone did invite you?”
“Probably. I like to have fun just as much as the next fellow.”
“Maybe someday you and me can go to a dance.”
“I’d like that, Jenny. I really would.”
“I still have a few dresses. But Lord, I haven’t had a dress on in so long . . .” She was quiet for a few heartbeats. “You have a civilian suit, Ben?”
He had to think about that. “You know, Jenny, I don’t believe I do.”
“Well, we’ll have to do something about that.”
“Yes. I guess we will.”
“I’m not goin’ to get all prettied up just to have you wearin’ combat boots, steppin’ on my toes.”
“I seem to recall I was pretty good at stepping on my partner’s toes.”
“Two left feet.”
“Something like that.”
Jenny had lifted her binoculars. She lowered them midway and said. “They’re movin’ again. Won’t be long now.”
“No. We’ll be through by midafternoon.”
“Should be.”
“How far back to the cabin?”
“Too far to make it in one afternoon. But I know a place a couple of miles from here. It’s an old cabin built long before my daddy arrived. Settlers, I reckon. The fireplace is still standin’ and the roof is intact. Least it was the last time I looked.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I wish those Nazi bastards would come on and get this over with.”
“The point man’s in range. Let’s wait until the man behind him gets closer. I’ll take the point man, you take the second one.”
“Will do, Ben.”
They waited. Ben lifted his rifle and sighted in, Jenny following suit.
“You ready?” Ben asked.
“Any time, baby.”
“Now!”
The high-powered rifles cracked together and two men went down, both of them chest shot.
“I make it fifteen to go, Ben,” Jenny called.
“I think it’s thirteen. But either way, we’re getting there.”
“What’s next?”
“Maybe a rush, coming in from our left, with them staying in the rocks.”
Jenny turned her head and inspected the area to her left. “That wouldn’t be good for us.”
“No. It damn sure wouldn’t. But that would be a logical move on Runkel’s part.”
Jenny suddenly jerked her rifle up and snapped off a shot. “Damn. I missed. Time to get rid of this scope. They’re so close now we won’t need them.”
“I’m switching to my CAR. No front sight on this rifle.”
“Think I’ll switch to this squirter myself.”
“They’ve split up, Jenny!” Ben said, urgency in his voice. “One group is staying on the meadow, near the rocks below us, the other group has begun climbing up and will be coming at us from our left. You’re going to be on your own.”
“I’ve been there before, Ben.”
