Chapter 10

The shakes finally hit Gus when his eyes stumbled upon the grotesquely curled fingers protruding from beneath the huge tires. Death had been instantaneous, but his heart quailed at the thoughts that would have rushed through this man's mind as the lumbering leviathan of the highways spun on its nose to become a giant pestle and crush the life from his body. Gus, his knees giving him no more support than a like columns of water, lurched against the warped fifth wheel to prevent himself from crumpling to the oil besmirched earth. His mind shot back to the instant in time when he first realized Judy had lost control, and that in the next seconds might well die. Memories so vivid he could see the graceful pirouette of the vehicle, could feel the stresses of flight transferred from the empty trailer through the connectors to the tractor. The same forces which warped the two inch thickness of metal had sheared the connecting rod like so much taffy. Again he saw the flight of the forty foot trailer as it left the truck to its dance and soared across the backdrop of piney woods. The instant of first contact before leaping skyward on a wash of flame and sound. The flailing body of the fourth... The fourth man.

Where was the fourth man. His eyes were darts penetrating the shadows beneath the hilly stand of pines. Frozen in place by his concern, his fears, he looked from tree to tree, as if daring the shadows to disgorge an enemy.

The whispered darkness did not cover the mangled corpse of the fourth man. Gus relaxed when his steely glare touched the bundled rags draped without concern on the blackened hillside. He stole close enough to see the wiry-haired head faced down as did the back of the scorched fatigues. With the possibility of danger lessened again, Gus allowed his tired knees to give way and slowly sat in the coolness beneath the still slowly spinning wheels.

" Break on channel nine. Break on channel nine for a landline. Break channel nine." Josh first replaced the expended shells in his magnum before tuning his radio to the CB emergency channel.

" Break again on nine for an emergency landline. Break channel nine."

Still the receiver remained silent.

" One more break on this channel nine. Does anyone have a copy, over? Well the third time's the charm. I'm gone to thirteen." With the microphone still keyed he pressed the preset button and switched the small transmitter to the frequency usually employed by a local radio club. He knew the keyed mike would cause a sharp burst of static, or feedback he corrected himself, to be broadcast on the preset channel. He hoped it would attract some attention even if his request for a landline, or telephone connection did not.

" Break thirteen. Break thirteen for an emergency landline. Break channel thirteen, over."

"... station KKBT-1918 answering the break for a landline, Over." screamed from the speakers as soon as Josh released his transmit button.

" This is mobile KRBZ-7550, the Paladin, requesting a relay to the State Police or Miller County Sheriff to report fatalities on US 71 one mile south of the Sulphur River Bridge. Can you comply, over." The reply had been delayed somewhat while Josh juggled papers to uncover his radiophone license. He frowned at the necessary effort to follow the seldom used rules of the FCC.

" The Paladin? Gee. Sorry about the fancy reply friend but Uncle Sugar has been trapping some of us hereabout for illegal use, and it don't hurt to be on the safe side. If you know what I mean. You've got Sulphur River Slim back here in the booneys. Just start spinnin' your tale while I dial the number." The officious pompousness had changed to the welcome slang of the road as soon as Josh had identified himself with his handle.

" Nice to hear you Slim. We got big problems down here south of the bridge about a mile. A state cruiser pounced on a stake-bed just over first hill. He must've been doin seventy when he hit. Both of the bears are deaders, and for some reason four guys with guns were stalkin' the remains when I got here. It looked for the world like they had set it up, and were comin' close to make shore the bears were finished. I was front-doorin' two large cars, stopped astraddle the line, and when my friends showed up the dumb bastards started shootin'. Anyway, when things stopped poppin' they were dead and we were minus a truck and a trailer full of fumes what blew up, and out at the same time. You got the relay up yet Slim?"

" If this ain't just like MaBell. When you really need her she's done gone dancin'. I can't even raise a tone on my handset. Well, I'll just call a friend in T-town on number 38, and get back to you in a minute. So hold what you got for a while. I'm gone to 38, but I'll be back."

Josh took this momentary respite to repack the papers in the glove box, and reach for one of the skinny cigars he kept in his console. After lighting the thin black stick with one of several kitchen matches kept in the ashtray, he turned to the open window and blew a spiral of rich grey into the cooling breeze. The second draught of rich smoke burst from his lips with an oath as his head jerked back to the rearview mirror, and was quickly followed by his body as he leapt from the truck to verify, or disprove, the apparition his eyes had seen. He ignored the shouts coming from his radio as he stared with awe struck terror at the towering mushroom to the northwest.

The lean frame stooped to retrieve his glowing smoke dropped as he unconsciously reached for the big magnum. The ice blue eyes, wide at first with surprise, narrowed to the merest slits as the voice on the radio finally penetrated.

" Break on thirteen for the Paladin, damn it answer me!" The older man demanded. " Break thirteen for the Paladin, somethin's bad wrong. Do you copy Paladin?"

Josh's hand was steady as he reached into the truck for the mike. " You got the Paladin here Slim. You're right. Something is wrong. "

" Damn I'm glad you answered, Paladin. I couldn't raise my friend in T-town, shit I couldn't raise anyone cept some turkey from Waskom who kept screaming something about mushrooms growing in Shrevesport. Can you make any sense out of that?"

" Yeah, I am afraid I can Slim. I would advise you to hunt a hole and hide Slim, cause the shit has hit the fan. Those are mushroom clouds over Shreveport. They bombed us damn it. The sons-of-bitches bombed us." He released the talk button as his voice broke, not with grief, or fear, but with the anger of a man who wants revenge.

Only seconds passed before Josh rekeyed the CB microphone. The voice was his, yet different. An authority devoid of warmth appraised Slim of the situation and advised his new friend to lie low. To trust no one. He had drawn a lot of conclusions in the minutes since he spotted the deadly cloud, and he sincerely hoped they were wrong, but he had to operate as if they weren't.

" OK, Paladin. I got it. We need to meet, cause I ain't gonna make it alone, and you seem to be someone who knows what's happenin'. There are a couple of swamp rats out here I know, but mostly they stay to themselves and don't cotton to others. Do you know anything about the 'Lost Ferry'?"

Josh thought for a minute." Yeah. I think so. That is, I do if it's the one there during the Civil War."

" Yeah, that's the one. Now I know you don't know me, but I figure you can put to-gather a good question for ID. I already got it figured for you. I'll see you at the 'Lost Ferry' about skinnin time on the twelve-teenth. Ya got that, Paladin? "

Josh paused for almost a minute before he realized what the old man was actually saying, replied in the affirmative, and wished the him the best. He signed off and went to help Gus and Judy. It took only a few minutes to finish gathering the small store of goodies scattered when Judy's truck flipped. Then he and Gus busied themselves with the collection of arms and ammo from the four ambushers, and their victims. Afterward they gathered around the hood of the four-wheeler, where Josh advised them of the true situation.

Neither of the husband and wife team believed the story until after Josh pointed out the wind-streamered mushroom shadowing the mid-afternoon glare. Gus's reply was totally nonverbal as he leaned heavily against the warmth of the smaller truck. Judy's, was anything but as she cursed in three languages at the cloud, and the people who caused it. By the time they returned to Josh the latter was pouring over a tri-state map, and penciling in notations between the two nearest cities.