Gary pursed his lips, relishing the simplicity of it. “Are there any more coming? More trucks behind you?”
The soldier shook his head. “Not yet, not until we get there okay. If we… I mean, if I make it, there'll be more on the way.”
“Is that a fact? This road will be crawling with them in no time at all.” He thoughtfully rubbed the stubble on his face, realizing he had better shave again. “Why the devil didn't they send a column to protect you? They should have known what to expect on this side of the river.”
He was answered by a bitter laugh. “Corporal, there ain't no column to send. Most of our men got caught above ground and died in the plague — or deserted. We've been living down in the hole ever since… and I'll bet there ain't a hundred left. Hell, mister, we've got more trucks then we got men to drive them.” He lapsed into silence.
Gary backed away to glance about the grove, alert for sound or movement. Two trucks, loaded with gold ingots for a pinched government west of the Mississippi — and if these arrived safely, more to come. But two in the grove were worth a hundred others still at Knox, especially if this man should reach the river with his story. He came to a quick decision.
“I think,” he said slowly, “that the lieutenant should go along; it might look better to show up with his body, just in case we are questioned. You'll find him over there in the trees.”
The soldier peered around at him warily.
Gary jerked the automatic. “Go get him!” He stepped clear of the vehicle to cover the man. The trooper crossed the clearing to thrash among the underbrush and presently located the officer's body. Grunting, he carried it back to dump it in the rear of the truck, across the wooden boxes.
“Ready to roll? How about gas?”
The other nodded. “Gassed up when we stopped. We carry our own.” And then he added, “Pretty slick trick with that tire.”