Courage In The Ashes Read online

  “Then what can we do?” Peters asked.

  “Die,” Turner said softly.

  This was not his country, and Ben recognized that. So with the exception of Vancouver, few towns and cities were put to the torch by the Rebels as they relentlessly marched north. They took their time, stopping often to help patch together the ruined lives of those citizens they encountered. Most were glad to see the Rebels. But there was always the exception.

  Ben ran into that at a little town just south of Salmon Arm.

  “We don’t want your help,” the man said. “So just leave.”

  “Suits me,” Ben said, and turned to leave.

  “You have sick people in this town,” Lamar told him. “They need medical attention.”

  “Not on your terms,” he was informed. “We are pacifists. We do not believe in violence and we will not fight.”

  “That’s very noble,” the doctor said. “But what will you do if the outlaws return?”

  “God will see us through.”

  Ben leaned against the Chevy and rolled a smoke. Therm joined him.

  “So how will you handle this?” Therm asked.

  “Leave. To hell with them.”

  “Just walk off and leave them to die, Ben?”

  “It’s their choice, Therm.”

  “I believe they are sincere people.”

  “Oh, so do I. But that doesn’t change a thing. I won’t force them to face reality. I wouldn’t stop a man from entering a cage to face an angry grizzly with only a switch in his hand; but I’d damn sure call him a fool.”

  Lamar joined the men. “These people are in desperate need of medical attention, Ben.”

  “That’s their problem, Lamar.”

  “They are not our enemies, Ben.”

  “And they are not our friends. There is no such thing as neutral in this war, Lamar. I won’t recognize it. Mount up, we’re moving out.”

  “Was he right or wrong?” Jerry Harris asked Therm, as the Rebels put the small town in their rearview mirrors.

  “He’s Ben Raines,” Thermopolis replied.

  “That’s not much of an answer.”

  “It’s the best I can do. The boss can be right, or the boss can be wrong. But he’s still the boss.”

  At Cache Creek Ike and Tina linked up with the others battalions they were to travel with and halted there. Ben and Thermopolis halted their advance at Salmon Arm. Rebet pulled up at Revelstoke. Danjou and West reached their objective at Golden and halted. The areas behind the Rebel battalions had been swept clean.

  Ben studied his maps, laid out his plans, and got on the horn to all unit commanders. “We’ll all rest for twenty-four hours and go over equipment and wait for resupplies. When that’s done, Rebet, you and West and Danjou cross over into Alberta and push north to Jasper, then cut back across the continental range and head up to Prince George on Highway 16. I’ll take Highway 5 north. Ike, you and Cecil and Tina and Georgi drive north on 97. We’ll all link up at Prince George and make further plans there. Scouts out. Good luck.”

  Buddy had linked up with his father’s battalion, waiting for Dan’s people, who had traveled north, following a road that dead-ended at Mica Creek. Dan’s Scouts backtracked and checked in, reporting finding a few survivors along the way and no outlaws.

  Upon his return, Dan linked up with Ben, and at dawn all battalions pushed off.

  The Rebels hit small pockets of resistance made up of die-hard outlaws and thugs who had refused to head north with the major outlaw gangs who had operated in the area for years and had enough sense to get out of Ben Raines’ way. The pockets of punks, thugs, and crud were crushed with hardly a delay in the Rebels’ progress.

  One outlaw’s dying words summed up the campaign thus far: “Hell, we didn’t even slow ’em up.”

  Ben’s group cleared a one-hundred-mile path and stopped at Clearwater after his forward recon people reported about a hundred survivors living in the small town, all of them requiring medical attention and all of them asking to be a part of the Rebel outpost system.

  “Jack Hayes is the man you’ve got to look out for,” a citizen told Ben during his interviewing of the survivors. “Word I get is that he’s gathered up all the bigger gangs that operated in this area and they all headed north. One really big bunch of men moved through here not too many months back. They took Highway 97 north. They didn’t bother a soul on their way through. They were heading for Alaska, I was told.”

  “Did you see them?” Ben asked

  “No. It was reported to me. Me and my bunch were holed up in the deep timber in the Wells Gray Park, just north of here. But he said somebody named Villar was the boss of the army.”

  Dan’s smile resembled a death’s head as he locked eyes with Ben. The Englishman had a very personal reason for catching up with Lan Villar. Villar had been working with the IRA years back and kidnapped some school children in London. One of the kids was Dan’s youngest sister. She was repeatedly raped and died horribly. Dan tracked Villar halfway around the globe in an attempt to kill him. Only the Great War saved Villar’s butt.

  Now Dan was once more closing in.

  “How many men?” Ben asked the citizen.

  The man shrugged his shoulders. “Between five hundred and a thousand. But they were well-armed, well-dressed, and looked very professional, so it was reported to me. They had artillery they were pulling behind trucks.”

  Ben nodded his head and smiled. Dan understood the smile; the citizen knew only that he was very thankful Ben Raines was an ally, not an enemy. After the man had gone to seek medical attention, Ben, Therm, Dan, and Buddy met in private.

  “For the most part,” Ben said, “I believe we can end the reign of terror in the northern hemisphere with this campaign. We’ve pushed the crud into a box and they have no way out. Not unless they can get to a port and get ships ready to sail. I don’t believe they’ll do that. Khamsin and Villar left South America and Europe because they couldn’t compete with the forces of evil that had surfaced on those continents. We’ll crush them in Alaska, and then see what they were running from in Europe.”

  “I’ve talked with Hans Strobel at length,” Dan said. Hans had been one of Lan Villar’s platoon leaders. Captured, he was found to be very disillusioned with the terrorist, had switched sides, and was now a respected member of the Rebels, commanding a team of Gray’s Scouts. “Hans says that if anyone can crush those forces now operating in Europe it’s us. But he’s warned repeatedly that it won’t be easy.”

  “I know. And I’ve wavered in my thinking about going in light,” Ben said. “We have enough outposts throughout the nation to contain the criminal element left, and Sister Voleta’s forces. They’ll have their hands full, but I think they can do it, with the help of the Rebels we’ll leave behind. Cecil has finally admitted that it would be best if he stayed stateside to run things. He knows this is his last campaign before being tied to a desk. We’ll take seven battalions overseas. But for right now, let’s concentrate on Northstar.”

  “All battalions are reporting only very light resistance, and little of that,” Dan said. “I just came from communications. Danjou says so far it’s been a milk run for his people.”

  “It won’t be when we hit Alaska,” Ben said. “I’m confident that we’ll be successful, but we’re in for some fierce fighting before it’s over.”

  Corrie entered the room. “Ike reports that Williams Lake has been secured. He’s going to hold up there until you pull even, General. He says that his recon people have reported there are many survivors in the town of Quesnel; but among them are a number of outlaws who have requested amnesty.”

  Ben looked at a map. “That’s about a hundred miles north of Williams Lake. We’ll be linking up with Danjou, West, and Rebet sometime late tomorrow or early the next day. Tell Ike to go ahead and push on to Quesnel, then link up with us at Prince George. Tell him to handle the amnesty situation as he sees fit.”

  “Yes, sir.”


  The others in the room knew that those outlaws seeking amnesty had better play it straight and truthful with Ike; the former Navy SEAL was not known for extending many tender, loving mercies toward thugs and crud. To those who knew Ike well, he was a big loveable teddy bear. Cross him and he could quickly turn into a savage, rampaging grizzly.

  “I want Villar,” Dan said softly.

  “We’ll do our best to see that you get him,” Ben assured the man.

  “I want to beat that bastard to death with my bare fists,’’ the former SAS commando said. “And I want it to last a long, long time.”

  Rarely did Dan Gray show this much emotion about anything. Even Ben was surprised at the hate that shone in the Englishman’s eyes.

  “I don’t know that it will make my sis rest any easier in the grave,” Dan said. “But it will certainly give me a great deal of satisfaction.” He rose from his chair and left the room. He spoke to Dr. Chase at the door and stepped outside.

  “All through with the survivors here, Ben,” Lamar said, pouring a cup of coffee and then taking a chair at the table. “We’ve got us another outpost.” He paused, then said, “Dan looked rather grim.”

  “We were discussing Lan Villar,” Ben told him.

  “Revenge is a strange emotion,” Chase said. “I hope that Dan will be satisfied once he kills Villar. Most people I’ve talked with about it say that once it’s over it’s seldom as fulfilling as one had anticipated.”

  “It wasn’t that way at all for me,” Therm said. “I came away with the feeling that the man I’d sought and found and destroyed would never again do horrible things to another innocent person.”

  “You, Therm?” Chase looked at him. “I thought you were a man of peace.”

  “I am, for the most part. But I’m not so naive as to believe that turning the other cheek always works. There are some in this world who would just knock the shit out of you again as soon as you got up and offered them the other cheek.”

  “You’ve changed since joining the Rebels, haven’t you, Therm?” Buddy asked

  “To a degree. I will never admit that Ben’s way is necessarily the right way. But it’s the best way toward accomplishing the end that we all desire. After it’s over—if it’s ever over—we’re just going to have to sit down and hash out the little details of living day to day and getting along with our fellow human beings.”

  Ben stood up and stretched. “You three can sit here and engage in deep philosophical discussions if you like. I’m going to bed.”

  Thermopolis, Buddy, and Chase were gearing up for a marathon bull session when Ben walked into his quarters and closed the door. Linda smiled at him from the double sleeping bag, invitation in her eyes. Beats the hell out of talking any day.

  SEVEN

  Ben and his battalions made camp near the junction of Canadian Highways 5 and 16 late the next afternoon. They had not seen a living soul—friendly or unfriendly—during the nearly 150-mile run. Rebet, Danjou, and West were bivouacked just east of them, over the province line between Jasper and Mount Robson Park.

  Corrie got West on the horn and handed the mike to Ben. “See any action, West?”

  “Damn little, Ben. It was a milk run all the way. We could have slept through this one.”

  “It might be a good idea to get all the sleep we can, while we can,” Ben told him. “All the outlaws are waiting for us in Alaska. See you in the morning.”

  “Providing we can get over this mountain range,” West said with a laugh.

  They were going to drive just south of the highest point in the Canadian Rockies, some 3,950 meters high.

  The Rebels linked up and pulled out at midmorning. It was 275 miles from the junction to Prince George. The long column passed through tiny towns, stopping often to investigate. They found no one alive until they reached the tiny hamlet of McBride. Scouts had reported back that they were decidedly friendly.

  A group of about a hundred happy-faced men and women greeted the Rebels, waving tiny Canadian and American flags and cheering as the Rebel column seemed to go on forever.

  “Put over, Coop,” Ben said. “Let’s meet the people.”

  The small kids were scrambling all over the tanks, as kids will do anywhere. A man stepped forward out of the crowd, walking with a cane, one hand extended in welcome, a huge smile on his face. He was heavily armed, as were all the adults in the crowd.

  Ben started laughing, and, to the amazement of all the Rebels, threw his arms around the man and hugged him. The men hugged each other and jumped up and down like classmates after a football victory.

  “You old son of a bitch!” Ben yelled. “I thought they killed you back in the Tri-States!”

  Clint Voltan.

  “I took some lead, Ben. A few survivors dragged me off into the brush and we laid low until the area cleared. I was unconscious most of the time.” He thumped the side of his leg with his cane and grinned. “Artificial, Ben. But it gets me around. Anyway, when I came to my senses, I was in Canada and only had one leg. A doctor sawed it off with a carpenter’s saw on the way up. I was a little pissed at first, but then they told me gangrene had set in.” He grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “So what the hell? I get around pretty good.”

  “You’re looking fat and sassy, Clint. Damn but it’s good to see you.” Then Ben put it all together and smiled. “You’re the reason we haven’t seen any outlaws along this stretch of road, right?”

  “Me and my bunch, yeah. And you won’t see any in Prince George either. Oh, they were there, but they hauled ass when they heard you and your Rebs was on the way. We’ve got the best radio equipment in this part of the province, I reckon. You’re going to have your hands full in Alaska, Ben.”

  “Why didn’t you let me know you were alive, Clint?”

  “Well, what would have been the point? I’m not much good with this bum leg, and I had my hands full up here just like you did down in the States.”

  “Nora . . . ?”

  He shook his head. “She didn’t make it out, Ben. I’ve remarried and I’m happy. Really happy now that I know you boys and girls are in the area.”

  “Want this town to become one of our outposts, Clint?”

  “You just try to keep it out of the system, Ben!”

  Cecil and Ike came over from Prince George with some of the older Rebels, and it was old home week for a few hours as the survivors from the Tri-States swapped stories and enjoyed each other’s company.

  “I got to say it again, boys,” Clint said. “You guys are going to be busy in Alaska.”

  “How many from this area went up there, Clint?” Ike asked.

  “I’d guess several thousand at the low end. Two thousand from the Washington-Oregon region. Say a thousand from Alberta. You’re looking at at least ten thousand well-armed and well-trained men and women. I’d personally put the figure at maybe twelve to fifteen thousand. They’re organized. They plant gardens and home-can food. They’ve got people all over the lower forty-eight during the growing season bringing back food. They have electricity and all the conveniences that you guys have. Lots of sections up there where they can raise chickens and hogs and cattle. And they do. They’re ready for you, boys.”

  “What do you know about their weapons?” Ben asked.

  “They’ve got artillery and mortars and heavy machine guns. Those are the reports I got from spotters along the way.” He looked at Ben. “You look relieved. How so?”

  “The numbers. I was anticipating a much larger force of men.”

  “They’ve got you outnumbered, Ben.”

  “Big deal. The Rebels are always outnumbered.”

  * * *

  Ike, Cecil, Tina, and Danjou would take Highway 16 over to Prince Rupert on the Pacific coast. Ben would take the remaining battalions and head north. The battalions would link up just across the line in the Yukon, at Watson Lake, on the Alaska Highway.

  Clint had been accurate when he said they would meet no outlaws in Prince George. The outla
ws had looted and stripped the town and pulled out. Survivors were trickling back in when Raines’s Rebels arrived in the small city.

  “They’re five or six hard days ahead of you, General,” the woman who seemed to be in charge of the two hundred or so survivors told him. “And they’re heavily armed. You will have your work cut out for you when you hit Alaska.” She stared at him for a moment. “We have prisoners.”

  “And . . . ?”

  “How do you want us to deal with them?”

  “It’s your country,” Ben told her. “You captured them, you deal with them, bearing in mind that you’re going to have to live here. I’m assuming you plan to do that.”

  “Oh, yes,” the woman said. “This is our home. The prisoners, they’re murderers, rapists, slavers . . . scum of the worst kind.” She stood looking at him.

  “Are you asking me to do your dirty work for you, ma’am?” Ben posed the question softly.

  She sighed audibly. “It appears that way, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes. You’ve got to make up your own minds about what type of justice you hand down up here,” Ben told her. “But look at it realistically. You and your group didn’t turn to a life of viciousness. You all tried to live decent lives in the face of more tragedy than any of you had ever faced before. You took the hard and right road. Those prisoners of yours took the road of lawlessness. Nobody made them do it. Nobody forced them. They had as much control over their destinies as you did. The majority of them are human crud and crap. They always will be. But what type of justice you choose to hand them is going to be totally up to you people.”

  She forced a smile. “We’d like to be a part of your outpost system, General.”

  “Fine with me. Just be sure you understand the rules.”

  “We understand them, General Raines. We’ve spoken with Voltan many, many times. He has zero crime in his sector.”

  “And do you understand how he managed that while being surrounded by the most vicious gangs of punks in British Columbia?”