Lucifer's Hammer - Larry Niven [281]
"It will be dark in a couple of hours," Harvey said. "Then we can rest."
"Can we?" Tallifsen asked. But he went back to work, digging out under another boulder above the road. Others stretched the cable from the TravelAll's winch around the rock. There wasn't enough dynamite to use on every rock they found.
An hour before dark they were forced out of Hungry Hollow and over the ridge beyond. They fled across Deer Creek, pausing only long enough to light the fuse on the dynamite they'd placed there. When they climbed onto the next ridge, they found men already there.
It took Harvey a moment to realize they were friends. Steve Cox and almost a hundred troops had been sent from the ranch to hold the ridge. The Stronghold forces were through running away; now they would stand and fight. Cox had spread his forces along the ridge and they'd dug in. Harvey and Task Force Randall—what was left of it—could rest. There was even cold supper and a Thermos of hot tea.
"We're all dead on our feet," Harvey told Steve Cox. "We won't be much help."
Cox shrugged. "That's all right. Get a good night's sleep. We'll hold them."
You're a fool, Harvey wanted to say. There are a thousand of them and a hundred of you, and they come like death, like army ants, and nothing can stop them. "Have you brought … how is Forrester's work? Have you got any of his superweapons?"
"Thermit grenades." Cox showed Harvey a box of what looked like lumps of baked clay with fuses stuck out of the top. Each was about six inches in diameter, and each had two feet of parachute cord attached to it. "You light the fuse and whirl it around," Cox said. "Then throw it."
"Do they work?"
"They sure do." Cox was enthusiastic. "Some explode like bombs. Others just break open, but even then they throw fire ten or twelve feet. They'll scare the hell out of those cannibal bastards."
"But what about the other weapons? Mustard gas?"
Cox shrugged. "They're working on it. Hardy says it will take time. That's why we're out here."
In the valley below, the lead elements of the New Brotherhood force had reached the ruined bridge. Deer Creek was high and swift, and the bridge was entirely gone; the few men who tried to wade it gave up quickly. The Brotherhood army stopped, then began to spread along the banks. Elements went upstream until they vanished. Others turned downstream toward the sea a few miles to the west.
"They'll get around us," Harvey said nervously.
"Nope." Cox grinned. He pointed upstream, toward the towering Sierra. "We've got allies up there. About fifty Tule Indians, some of Christopher's reinforcements. Tough bastards. Get some sleep, Randall. They won't get through here, not tonight and not tomorrow. We've got a good position. We'll hold them."
"I think Cox is crazy," Harvey told Marie. "I've … we've seen the New Brotherhood fight. He hasn't."
"They have our radio reports," Marie said. She stretched in the back seat of the TravelAll. "Feels good to relax. I could sleep for a week."
"So could I," Harvey said; but he didn't. The TravelAll was parked on the far side of the ridge from Deer Creek. He had sent the others back further, to a farmhouse where they could get proper rest, and he knew he should join them, but he was worried. Harvey had learned to respect whoever was in charge of the New Brotherhood. The enemy general hadn't wasted a man, had never exposed his people recklessly, yet he had swept through eighteen miles and more in less than a day.
And he was using gasoline and ammunition recklessly. This was an all-out war; the New Brotherhood must have stripped their territory, must be gambling on taking the Stronghold for new supplies.
Dusk brought a chill wind, but no more sleet. A few stars showed through the overcast, blinking points of light too far apart to recognize as constellations. Harvey remembered a hot sauna followed