Lucifer's Hammer - Larry Niven [222]
"Aw, shit." Hooker shook his head, thinking about it. "Good stuff in the van?"
"Good? Good? Hook, you won't believe what was in that fuckin' van! That motherfucker went up like … like … "
"Gasoline."
"Yeah, a lot like that." Alim tried to laugh, but he couldn't. "The guys inside the van caught on fire and come out screamin', and a couple of the bastards have guns. I got to give 'em credit, clothes all burnin' up they're still shootin' at us, and we shoot back, and by the time that was over the whole van's on fire, can't get near it.
"Bottles start exploding in the truck. Oh, man, Hook, the smells were enough to drive you out of your gourd! Here we're starvin', nothin' to eat, and out comes cookin' meat smells. And more. Scotch, brandy, fruity smells like those lick-kewers that nobody ever has the bread for, chocolate, raisins, apples—shit, Hook, that van was just stuffed with food and liquor! Food. Meat, not somebody in the truck, beef—"
Alim stopped suddenly. He looked sideways at Hooker. Hooker didn't have to say anything.
"Yeah. Anyway, something blew then, and out comes this package of beef jerky, still wrapped up in tinfoil and plastic bags, not burned, no gasoline on it, couple of pounds of beef jerky. Gay runs into the truck and comes out with two bottles, only we had to let him drink one of 'em to kill the pain, and when he really started feelin' it we'd drunk the other. Shit.
"But a couple of the studs on the bikes were still alive and they told us what they had in that truck. Everything. Guns. food, every kind of liquor ever made, European stuff, can you imagine what it must be worth now? Europe can be on the fuckin' Moon for all we'll ever see from there again. There was a ton of beef jerky, and fatty stuff that tasted even worse only who cares when you're starving? And soup, and potatoes, and freeze-dried mountain food—shit, those dudes had waited until the Hammer came and looted all the places where they'd seen people gettin' ready."
"Smarter than you were," Hooker said.
Alim shrugged. "Maybe. I didn't think that fuckin' comet would hit. Did you?"
"No." If I had, Hooker thought. If I had, I'd never have been out in that truck, we'd have had a lot more ammo … shit, why did I go off and leave the captain alone back there?
"... and bottles of gasoline," Alim was saying. "Big help, right? We could smell it, all of it, food burnin', gasoline exploding, clothes burning, those motherfuckers must have really thought the glaciers were coming, and if they were right," Nassor screamed, "then that motherfuckin' Hannibal is goin' across them bare-ass, because I'll be wearing his clothes over mine!"
"What happened to the bikes?" Hooker asked. He didn't bother asking about their riders.
"Got burned up. Fuckin' truck kept blowin', more gasoline in there. Spread all over. Shit, Hooker, that fire was so fuckin' hot that it got the trees burnin'! In the middle of that rain, water comin' down like a bathtub of warm shit and even the trees get to burning! We saved their shotguns, though."
"That's good. Too bad about the other stuff."
"Yeah."
They were safe, for a while, and just about everybody, even the slaves, was dry and warm and had almost enough to eat. They didn't want to think about leaving, or where they'd go, and they'd put off talking about it before, and they put it off now, but they wouldn't be able to put it off much longer.
"Alim! Sergeant!"
It was Jackie. There were others yelling too. Alim and Hooker ran out of the tent. "What is it?"
"Corporal of the guard, post number four!" someone yelled.
"Let's go!" Hooker waved troops to their perimeter positions, then went off toward the yelling sentry.
"Be not afraid, my brothers!" someone called from out in the misty rain. "I bring you peace and blessing."
"Shit fire," Sergeant Hooker said. He peered out into the mist.
An apparition materialized. A man with long white hair and