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surely bitched about their food, too.
"They're dehydrated eggs, Jersey," Ben said. "I think."
"From what kind of chicken?" she came right back.
Ben's detachment of Rebels spent the next two hours or so brewing
coffee, washing socks and underwear, and taking very quick baths out of
an old bucket. Even with nothing more than spit baths, they all managed
to rid themselves
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of an amazing amount of dirt and felt a lot better when they started
rolling east in the old pickup trucks.
The road was a gravel/dirt road, full of ruts and bumps, so they did not
make very good time. The gravel road abruptly ceased, running into what
had been a county highway.
"This won't do at all," Ben said, looking around him. "We're too
exposed. Pull over there in those woods and we'll wait until the Scouts
have checked out the town up ahead, then plan our next move."
The Rebels lounged around in the woods, moving as little as possible and
waiting for the Scouts' report.
"Just about a thousand people lived there before the Great War," Beth
said, consulting her copy of an old state tourist brochure. "Doesn't say
anything about the town or what the people did for a living."
Corrie suddenly held up a hand. "Okay," she said. "Got it. Hang on for
orders." She turned to Ben. "Scouts report that the people in that town
are just about the sorriest-looking bunch they've ever seen. Nothing
much in the way of weapons and not hostile-appearing at all. Just
struggling to get by."
"Tell them to come on back. We'll cut south and concentrate on blowing
bridges. I don't want to make conditions worse for people who have
nothing to start with."
"We've been pretty lucky so far," Anna said.
"Luck has a nasty habit of running out, dear," Ben reminded her.
"Suits me," the young woman replied, picking up her CAR. "Nothing like a
good fight to get the blood hot."
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Ben had no choice but to cut through a national forest/mountain range.
Luckily, the mountain range was not that high and the old road was
relatively clear. On the drive through the range, there was just one
town off the road a few miles and on a whim, Ben decided to check it
out. The town maybe had a population of three hundred before the Great
War and as deep in the mountains as it was, Ben did not think there
would be more than a few dozen residents remaining, at most.
He was wrong.
"Scouts report the town is deserted, boss," Corrie said. Ben had pulled
the short impromptu convoy off the road about a mile from the tiny town.
"They also say it's damned eerie."
"Eerie?"
"That's what they said."
"Let's check it out."
The Scouts halted the convoy on the edge of the village. "It's very
strange, General," the team leader told Ben. "Well, you're going to have
to see for yourself. I can't explain it."
"Let's go."
"Wow!" Jersey summed it up, standing on the back porch of a house and
peering in through the undamaged window. "This is strange."
Ben carefully opened the back door and stepped inside.
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He was standing in the kitchen. The kitchen table had been set for a
meal, four plates and settings. Ben checked the pots and pans on the
stove. Whatever food had been cooking had years ago burned or boiled
down to an unrecognizable hardened glob on the bottom. The heat knobs
were still on, in various degree settings, so the propane tanks had
burned dry. Ben slowly turned the knobs to the off position.
Ben walked from the kitchen down a short hall and into the living room.
The room was neat and except for a dust covering on everything, clean
and well-kept. He turned and entered a bedroom. The bed was made and the
blankets undisturbed. The bedding in the next two bedrooms had been
turned down, so Ben gues$ed that had been the evening meal cooking on
the stove. There were no skeletal remains to be found.
"Odd," Ben murmured. "Let's check out the house next door."
The Rebels found the same thing in the other houses on the short block.
"Let's split up," Ben said. "Two teams of ten check out the rest of the
houses. I'll check out the little business district"
A grocery store, a combination hardware/sporting goods/farm supply
store. A tiny post office. A general store that seemed to Ben, peering
through the dust covered front show window, to stock a little bit of
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everything. A barber shop/beauty parlor. A service station. Two other
buildings that had no name.
Ben pushed at the front door of the grocery store. It opened with a
faint protest of hinges that had not been used for years. He stepped
inside. The smell of rotting food wafted at Ben and his team. After all
these years, cans had begun to burst and leak; the smell was not pleasant.
"The shelves are all full!" Cooper said. "It looks like nothing was looted."
"It wasn't," Ben said in a low voice. "But the rats have
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been busy. And this rotting food will keep them busy for years to come.
Let's get out of here."
On the sidewalk, under the awning, Corrie spoke into her mic. "Okay, I
got it. Hang on." She looked at Ben. "Both teams have found like-new
vehicles all over the town. Some with only a few thousand miles on the
odometer."
Ben shook his head in wonder. "This town is a picture right out of the
past. It is untouched by all that has happened. But where did the people
go?" He sighed. "Tell the teams to pick the best of the extend-cab
pickups. Go to the service station for batteries and extra tires. We
might as well ride in style."
Cooper waved at them from across the street. "Hey, gang! Look. No guns
were taken. The rack is filled with them.
"Incredible," Ben said, checking out a .270. He wiped the dust from it
and worked the bolt. Stiff, but nothing a little oil wouldn't fix. "Take
the high-powered rifles and all the ammo you can find. We're all going
to have to do some long-distance shooting before this is over. Fill
those backpacks over there. Check the barrels for blockage and one of
you look around for scopes. We're going to be back in business, big time."
"What happened here, General Ben?" Anna asked, standing close to him and
speaking in a very small voice.
"I don't know, baby. It's just one of those mysteries that happen in
war. We've all seen some very strange things over the years."
"Boss," Beth called. "How about taking some of these blankets and
padding the beds of the trucks."
Ben smiled. "Sure. That would make riding a lot easier on the butt,
wouldn't it?"
"Teams report finding no bodies in any of the houses," Corrie said. "Dr.
Farmer is checking out the local cemetery. The last headstone he can
find was put up about two months before the Great War."
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"And the body was buried probably several months before the stone was
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