Ashes - Fury In The Ashes Part 20

"We go out the door and cut immediately to our left, keeping between those old garbage dumpsters and this building. That way we'll stay in the shadows.

Once across the alley, we toss Fire-Frags in and follow. You ready?"

"Oh, sure. I can't begin to tell you how much I'm looking forward to this."

Ben chuckled. "Let's do it."

They exited the building quickly, Ben in the lead. Working their way past two old dumpsters, they both bellied down on the littered concrete as two street punks ran past their position and into the building across the alley.

"That makes it either fourteen or sixteen," Jersey muttered. "Right?"

Ben smiled and whispered, "We still have them outnumbered, short-stuff. Let's go."

They ran across the alleyway and flattened against the old building, one on each side of a huge pane-less window. Ben pulled a Fire-Frag from his battle harness and Jersey did the same. They looked at one another as the sounds of voices came from inside the building. Jersey nodded her head.

Two Fire-Frags were chunked into the ground floor of the building. The door blew off from the concussion of the exploding grenades.

The shrapnel had just ceased bouncing off the interior and the screaming of the wounded had begun when Ben and Jersey rolled into the room and laid down a field of automatic fire, effectively clearing the area of street punks. With their ears ringing from the concussion of the mini-Claymores, Ben and Jersey got their bearings and spread out, covering the only door they could see from the dim light of the flares. It went to the second floor. They could both hear the faint sounds of footsteps above them.

"G.o.dd.a.m.nit, there ain't no other way out!" the voice said, reaching Ben and Jersey.

"Take a peek down there."

"You so d.a.m.n interested, you take a peek."

Ben and Jersey remained silent, crouched behind a pile of junk in the room, their weapons set on full auto, each with a fresh clip. They waited, eyes on the blackness of the open stairwell leading to the second-floor.

A lone figure came cautiously down the steps and stuck his head into the dimness of the room. Ben and Jersey waited. They didn't want just one punk dead comthey wanted them all dead.

"Fuller's dead," the punk called over his shoulder. "I can see half a dozen more on the floor. All blown to s.h.i.t. There ain't n.o.body movin'."

Several more punks gathered around the first one at the base of the stairs, none of them wanting to take that first step into the ground floor room, but knowing they had to do so if they were to get away."They was waitin' on us." Words just reached Ben and Jersey over the diminishing din of battle.

"Bull's plan didn't turn out worth a d.a.m.n.

They knew we was comin'."

"This ain't the time to discuss it. You see anybody down yonder?"

"No. I can't see nothin' "ceptin" dead people."

"Come on."

The punks crowded out of the stairwell and onto the ground floor.

Ben and Jersey opened up, the Thunder Lizard and the M-16 blasting the darkness. The street punks were slammed back against a wall as the slugs tore the life from them. Ben and Jersey ceased fire and waited. A faint moaning came from the piled-up bodies by the stairs.

"That's it," Ben said. "Let's see what we have over there that might be able to talk."

Two were still alive. One of them was hard hit in the guts and dying. The other had suffered only two minor flesh wounds.

"Eagle to Rat," Ben spoke into his walkie-talkie.

"G.o.dd.a.m.nit, Dad, where are you?" Buddy's voice held more than a note of irritation.

"In the building just north of your location.

Ground floor. Come on over. We have a prisoner. The ground floor is clear. I can't be sure about the other floors, so watch it."

Buddy and Dan and a squad of Rebels were in the building within two minutes.

"This c.r.a.phead isn't hurt bad," a medic said.

"He's got lots of conversation in him."

"I ain't tellin' you b.a.s.t.a.r.ds nothin'!" the punk said, spitting out the words.

Dan smiled at him in the gloom. The smile was very much like a cobra before a strike. "Oh, I think you'll be chattering like a magpie before long."

At daylight, the punk was tossed out onto the sidewalk, weaponless, and told to hit the road.

He had been wrong. He'd had plenty to say to Dan and Ben. It had just taken a little persuading, that's all.

The Rebels had not physically tortured the young man. He'd been interrogated with the use of drugs.

Sixty thousand punks and creepies," Ben said, after taking a sip of coffee. "Well, I guess that means we do have our work cut out for us. Of course, that was a guess on his part, since I doubt that any census has ever been taken of the current population of Los Angeles."

The fighting had all but ceased, the punks retreating several blocks at first light. The Rebels were still loosely trapped -- in a manner of speaking-but the punks were now in that unenviable position of riding a tiger: afraid to turn loose and afraid to stay on.

"Get me a report from all units, Corrie,"

Ben requested.

"Working on it now, sir," she called. A momentlater, she said, "All units holding firm with no ground lost. Reporting five dead and eleven wounded during the night. Several prisoners were taken and their stories match the one told us."

Ben picked up his M-14. "All right, people.

Tired we may be, but we've got to take some ground today. The one thing the punks won't be expecting is a counterattack from us this early.

Ready tear gas and everybody into masks. We're going to do our best to clear everything between us and Therm.

Let's do it."

Tear gas canisters and smoke grenades and sh.e.l.ls began raining down all around the area, the choking and blinding fumes masking the forward movement of the Rebels as they counterattacked the street punks.

It was door-to-door and building-to-building fighting, with small arms and grenades, the Rebels offering no mercy or pity to the punks as they staggered out of hiding places, tears streaming down their faces from the gas. The Rebels took no prisoners as they advanced.

Knowing this, many of the punks ran from the relentless advance. Ben Raines's philosophy of war was simple. We will give you one chance to surrender.

If you do not take it at the time it is offered, you will die. There will be no second chances. It was a hard philosophy, enforced by hard men and women, in a hard and harsh time on earth.

The Rebels brought up flamethrowers, torching as they advanced, the flame-t.o.s.s.e.rs adding a new element of fear among the punks.

Ben stepped into a doorway and came face to face with a street punk dressed all in white, from his funky tennis shoes to the white headband.

He screamed obscenities at Ben.

Ben lifted the muzzle of his M-14 and added a touch of red to the natty outfit.

Automatic-rifle fire knocked out splinters of wood from the old building, the splinters b.l.o.o.d.ying Ben's face. He wiped the blood away and ran into the building. He cut to one side and hit the floor rolling just as a woman dressed in a bright yellow shirt cut loose with an AK-47.

"b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" she screamed at him, the AK bucking and jumping in her hands.

Jersey appeared in the doorway and st.i.tched the woman with a burst from her M-16, then jumped and rolled inside just as Ben was getting to his knees, his Thunder Lizard howling, the muzzle pointed at a knot of men and women all jammed up in a doorway leading to the outside.

Ben slapped in a fresh clip and cleared the logjam, the .308 slugs knocking several of the group outside and the rest of them spinning to the floor, their blood staining the dirty floor and the walls.

Beth and Cooper ran into the house, followed by Corrie and Linda.

"Hail, hail, the gang's all here," Ben called cheerfully, his voice m.u.f.fled through the gas mask. He winked at Linda."The man has a sense of humor," Linda said, just as a burst of lead sent them all belly-down on the floor. She crawled to a window, Corrie right behind her, and between the two of them filled the smoky air with lead and double-ought buckshot and some very unladylike cussing.

"Tsk, tsk," Ben said.

Linda and Corrie turned to look at him and he shut up.

A grenade came sailing through a shattered window and bounced along the floor, sending everybody jumping for whatever cover they could find.

In Ben's case, no cover. He was squatting in the center of the big room.

Jersey threw herself on the grenade, covering it with her body. "Get down, General!" she screamed.

Chapter Fourteen.

Ben froze, watching as Jersey closed her eyes and move her lips in silent prayer.

Five seconds took ten minutes to tick by.

"It's a dud, Jersey," Ben called. "Throw yourself away from it as far as you can."

"I'm too scared to move, General."

"Do it, Jersey. Now!"

She hurled herself from the grenade, rolling on the floor, and Cooper grabbed her, pulling her away.

"Leave it alone, General!" Dan's voice came sharp from the doorway. "Just stay right where you are." He walked to the grenade, picked it up, and threw it out a window. It bounced off a building, hit the alleyway, and blew. "Sometimes they do that," the Englishman said. "Unpredictable little b.u.g.g.e.rs."

Ben got up and walked over to Jersey, putting his arms around her, holding her close. She was still trembling. "What can I say, Jersey?"

She pulled back and grinned up at him. "Well, sir, you could give me a raise."

And amid the sounds of the battle raging outside, laughter rolled from the ground floor.

From Ike's position on the west side of west Los Angeles, to the mercenary's position on the east side of the combat area, the Rebels no longer felt they were trapped, even though they were, in a manner of speaking.

The street punks and the creepies had not only been thrown back, they had suffered terrible casualties during the failed a.s.sault. The dead were scooped up and placed in buildings, then the buildings set on fire.

The Rebels resumed their slow, block-by-block taking of the last major bastion of lawlessness and cannibalism and slavery in the lower forty-eight.

Ike and his people were clearing and burning the west side of West Los Angeles, pushing up to the San Diego Freeway and driving hard and relentlessly toward L.a. proper.

Therm, Ben, and Cecil began slowly pushing the punks and the creepies who fought with them south, while Georgi and West linked up and began their slowadvance toward the sea. The Rebels who had been on Santa Catalina Island were now, at Ben's orders, linked up with West.

Four long and b.l.o.o.d.y days after the failed a.s.sault by the street punks, Ben told his people to stand down for twenty-four hours and catch their breaths.

While to the uninitiated it might seem premature, Ben knew his Rebels now had the upper hand and were going to win this fight. The street punks had thrown everything they had at the Rebels, and the Rebels had held and were now once more advancing. The fight was a long way from being over.

Weeks of b.l.o.o.d.y work still lay ahead of the Rebels. But the street punks were going to lose.

Ben suspected that even they knew it.

Ben had relaxed the rules concerning prisoners, and had allowed his people to take alive those punks who had come staggering and weeping out of the burning and smoking rubble of war. They were transported north, into the forests and canyons north of the city, and were guarded by the Woods Children. As slaves and prisoners were liberated by the Rebels, trials were held. Any punk who was identified as having killed in cold blood, raped, or tortured was put to death.

Ben had heard horror stories coming out of what was called the zone, and wanted a meeting of his commanders.

He had some news for them.

Ike jumped straight out of his chair, yelling.

"You're gonna do what? G.o.dd.a.m.nit, Ben, that's the dumbest d.a.m.n thing I ever heard you propose."

Ben sat calmly. He had antic.i.p.ated the uproar and was ready for it.

"I absolutely forbid it," Cecil said, shaking his head. "No. No. Under no circ.u.mstances, no!

Reckless on your part and just too dangerous."

The mercenary, West, said, "General, I believe that would be very irresponsible on your part. I'm against it."

Therm said nothing because nothing Ben Raines ever did surprised him.

"Stupid!" Doctor Chase said. "Just plain stupid.