"Okay, Holloway ... better now. Water, please," croaked a voice that he had to convince himself was his.
Holloway handed him a tin cup, and Valentine gulped it down. "How long was I out?"
"About fifteen minutes, sir. Closer to twenty now."
"The Reapers?"
"Better let the sarge explain, sir. But I don't think there'; anything to worry about right now."
Stafford bounced in, a relieved smile on his face. "It'i getting dark, sir. No sign of the work details or their guards They probably saw the smoke and put two and two to gether. I've got everyone set to pull out. There are a couplf high-clearance pickups we can use. I put Alpin in one. Bi; Jeff volunteered to drive it. We could get you out in th( other. Holloway's good behind a wheel."
Valentine stood up, the dizziness fading. "No ambulance required, Staff. Anyone else hurt?"
"Not a one, sir."
"The Hoods?"
"Only one made it out of the house, the one that jumpec over the roof. He was on fire, took off like a scalded cat We chased him down, but the light was fading. Looked like he fell over-his robe was still burning. We put aboul twenty rounds into it and threw a couple of grenades Turned out it was just his robe. He must have dropped it and scuttled off flat-assed. My guess is he probably can's see-he plowed right into the wire and had to claw through it. We shouldn't have to worry about him."
Valentine thought for a moment. "What about the dependents?"
"That's your decision, sir. We're feeding those poor bastards that were tied up outside the house. They're in pretty poor shape. Some of the women were asking me, but 1 played dumb. Gave them the keys to the storeroom, though, They're emptying it now."
"Okay, I'll talk to them. We're going to head for the Pen-sacola Dam. Put the prisoners in one of the pickups, and find a driver. I'm putting you in charge of the vehicles. Make sure you got food, water, and fuel, spare tires if you can find'em. Drive slowly with your lights off; you'll make it. Cross country where you can, especially after the old expressway."
"Beats walking, sir."
"Get rolling before the Territorials can organize themselves."
Stafford nodded and started calling men to him. Valentine turned to a level-eyed NCO with a single stripe on his tunic. "Corporal Yamashiro, you're in charge of getting the men ready for a march. Pass out the weapons to the Okla-homans. Wreck any machinery except the two pickups. Were there any more Territorial prisoners?"
Yamashiro coughed meaningfully. "We found two more in uniform hiding in the garage, sir. They say they're just mechanics."
"I'll let the women decide what to do with them. We'll give them guns-they're welcome to shoot them."
"Yes, sir."
Valentine offered his hand. "Good luck, Staff. See you at the dam."
Stafford shook it, his face grave.
Night crept over the compound, the ramshackle barracks now illuminated by a bonfire of the flaming wreckage of the house. Valentine watched preparations on the two pickup trucks for a moment. Both trucks seemed well maintained, with heavy-duty tires and plenty of ground clearance. He nodded to Big Jeff, who was already behind the wheel of one and gunning the engine, listening to its harsh roar like a concerned doctor with a wheezy patient.
Valentine walked over to the barracks, where Wolves were handing out weapons. A grizzled oldster selected a rifle and pocketed two boxes of ammunition. He examined the sights, opened the receiver, and peered down the barrel. The man knew weapons. Valentine caught his eye and beckoned him over.
"Sorry we can't do more for you folks just now, sir. We have to move fast," Valentine explained.
The man worked the action on the rifle. "Don't give it another thought, feller. Best thing to happen around here in years, you taking a poke at the bastards."
"What are you and the others going to do?"
"Well, that ain't been decided yet. Most will sit tight - the women want their men around. Even if something bad happens, they want it to happen to them together. I expect them Territorials'll move back in. A couple of the younger ones have already run for it, heading for your parts east, I expect."
"And that rifle in your hands?"
"I'm sixty-six. I just do odd jobs around the camp. I could feel my time coming. In fact, I bet I was on the menu for them Skulls you burnt out, if'n they were to hang around much longer. I've got a little spot picked out in the old junk pile back of the garage. Real nice view from there of the whole place. There's a certain sergeant in the Territorials stationed here. I'm hoping for a chance to get him in the sights of this here repeater. And one or two others after him, mebbe. I gotta thank you, Lieutenant. It'll be a good death. I'll go now with the biggest damn smile."
Valentine opened his mouth to argue, but read something in the hard set of the wrinkles around the man's eyes that closed off debate.