When he had gone OHara stared into the darkness and thought about Korea. That had been the turning point of his life: before Korea he had been on his way up; after Korea there was just the endless slide, down to Filson and now beyond. He wondered where he would end up.
Thinking of Korea brought back Margaret and the letter. He had read the letter while on ready call on a frozen airfield. The Americans had a name for that kind of letter they called them Dear Johns. She was quite matter-of-fact about it and said that they were adult and must be sensible about this thing all the usual rationalizations which covered plain infidelity. Looking back on it afterwards OHara could see a little humour in it not much, but some. He was one of the inglorious ten per cent of any army fighting away from home, and he had lost his wife to a civilian. But it wasnt funny at all reading that letter on the cold airfield in Korea.
Five minutes later there was a scramble and he was in the air and thirty minutes later he was fighting. He went into battle with cold ferocity and a total lack of judgment. In three minutes he shot down two Migs, surprising them by sheer recklessness. Then a Chinese pilot with a cooler mind shot him down and he spent the rest of the war in a prison cage.
He did not like to think of that period and what had happened to him. He had come out of it with honour, but the psychiatrists had a field day with him when he got back to England. They did what they could but they could not break down the shell he had built about himself and neither, by that time, could he break out.
And so it went invalided out of the Air Force with a pension which he promptly commuted; the good jobs at first and then the poorer jobs, until he got down to Filson. And always the drink more and more booze which had less and less effect as he tried to fill and smother the aching emptiness inside him.
He moved restlessly on the rock and heard the bottle clink. He put out his hand, picked it up and held it to the sky. It was a quarter full. He smiled. He could not get drunk on that but it would be very welcome. Yet as the fiery fluid spread and warmed his gut he felt guilty.
IV
Peabody was blearily belligerent when he woke up and found OHara looking at him. At first he looked defensive, then his instinct for attack took over. Im not gonna take anything from you, he said shakily. Not from any goddam limey.
OHara just looked at him. He had no wish to tax Peabody with anything. Werent they members of the same club? he thought sardonically. Fellow drunks. Why, we even drink from the same bottle. He felt miserable.
Rohde took a step forward and Peabody screamed, And Im not gonna take anything from a dago either.
Then perhaps youll take it from me, snapped Forester. He took one stride and slapped Peabody hard on the side of the face. Peabody sagged back on the bed and looked into Foresters cold eyes with an expression of fear and bewilderment on his face. His hand came up to touch the red blotch on his cheek. He was just going to speak when Forester pushed a finger at him. Shut up! One cheep out of you and Ill mash you into a pulp. Now get your big fat butt off that bed and get to work and if you step out of line again I swear to God Ill kill you.
The ferocity in Foresters voice had a chilling effect on Peabody. All the belligerence drained out of him. I didnt mean to he began.
Shut up! said Forester and turned his back on him. Lets get this show on the road, he announced generally.
They took food and a pressure stove and fuel, carrying it in awkwardly contrived packs cobbled from their overcoats. OHara did not think that Foresters boss would thank him for the vicuna coat, already showing signs of hard use.
Aguillar said he could walk, provided he was not asked to go too fast, so Forester took the stretcher poles and lashed them together in what he called a travois. The Plains Indians used this for transport, he said. They got along without wheels so can we. He grinned. They pulled with horses and we have only manpower, but its downhill all the way.
The travois held a lot, much more than a man could carry, and Forester and OHara took first turn at pulling the triangular contraption, the apex bumping and bouncing on the stony ground. The others fell into line behind them and once more they wound their way down the mountain.
OHara looked at his watch it was six a.m. He began to calculate they had not come very far the previous day, not more than four or five miles, but they had been rested, warmed and fed, and that was all to the good. He doubted if they could make more than ten miles a day, so that meant another two days to the refinery, but they had enough food for at least four days, so they would be all right even if Aguillar slowed them down. Things seemed immeasurably brighter.
The terrain around them began to change. There were tufts of grass scattered sparsely and an occasional wild flower, and as they went on these signs of life became more frequent. They were able to move faster, too, and OHara said to Rohde, The low altitude seems to be doing us good.
That and acclimatization, said Rohde. He smiled grimly. If it does not kill you, you can get used to it eventually.
They came to one of the inevitable curves in the road and Rohde stopped and pointed to a silvery thread. That is the quebrada where the river is. We cross the river and turn north. The refinery is about twenty-four kilometres from the bridge.
Whats the height above sea-level? asked OHara. He was beginning to take a great interest in the air he breathed more interest than he had ever taken in his life.
About three thousand five hundred metres, said Rohde.
Twelve thousand feet, OHara thought. Thats much better.
They made good time and decided they would be able to have their midday rest and some hot food on the other side of the bridge. A little over five miles in half a day, said Forester, chewing on a piece of jerked beef. That wont be bad going. But I hope to God that Rohde is right when he says that the refinery is still inhabited.
We will be all right, said Rohde. There is a village ten miles the other side of the refinery. Some of us can go on and bring back help if necessary.
They pushed on and found that suddenly they were in the valley. There was no more snow and the ground was rocky, with more clumps of tough grass. The road ceased to twist and they went past many small ponds. It was appreciably warmer too, and OHara found that he could stride out without losing his breath.
Weve got it made, he thought exultantly.
Soon they heard the roar of the river which carried the meltwater from the snowfields behind them and suddenly they were all gay. Miss Ponsky chattered unceasingly, exclaiming once in her high-pitched voice as she saw a bird, the first living, moving thing they had seen in two days. OHara heard Aguillars deep chuckle and even Peabody cheered up, recovering from Foresters tonguelashing.
OHara found himself next to Benedetta. She smiled at him and said, Who has the pressure stove? We are going to need it soon.
He pointed back to where Willis and Armstrong were pulling the travois. I packed it in there, he said.
They were very near the river now and he estimated that the road would have one last turn before they came to the bridge. Come on, he said. Lets see whats round the corner.
They stepped out and round the curve and OHara suddenly stopped. There were men and vehicles on the other side of the swollen river and the bridge was down.
A faint babble of voices arose above the rivers roar as they were seen and some of the men on the other side started to run. OHara saw a man reach into the back of a truck and lift out a rifle and there was a popping noise as others opened up with pistols.
He lurched violently into Benedetta, sending her flying just as the rifle cracked, and she stumbled into cover, dropping some cans in the middle of the road. As OHara fell after her one of the cans suddenly leaped into the air as a bullet hit it, and leaked a tomato bloodiness.
THREE
OHara, Forester and Rohde looked down on the bridge from the cover of a group of large boulders near the edge of the river gorge. Below, the river rumbled, a green torrent of ice-water smoothly slipping past the walls it had cut over the aeons. The gorge was about fifty yards wide.
OHara was still shaking from the shock of being unexpectedly fired upon. He had thrown himself into the side of the road, winding himself by falling on to a can in the pocket of his overcoat. When he recovered his breath he had looked with stupefaction at the punctured can in the middle of the road, bleeding a red tomato and meat gravy. That could have been me, he thought or Benedetta.
It was then that he started to shake.
They had crept back round the corner, keeping in cover, while rifle bullets flicked chips of granite from the road surface. Rohde was waiting for them, his gun drawn and his face anxious. He looked at Benedettas face and his lips drew back over his teeth in a snarl as he took a step forward.
Hold it, said Forester quietly from behind him. Lets not be too hasty. He put his hand on OHaras arm. Whats happening back there?
OHara took a grip on himself. I didnt have time to see much. I think the bridge is down; there are some trucks on the other side and there seemed to be a hell of a lot of men.
Forester scanned the ground with a practised eye. Theres plenty of cover by the river we should be able to get a good view from among those rocks without being spotted. Lets go.
So here they were, looking at the ant-like activity on the other side of the river. There seemed to be about twenty men; some were busy unloading thick planks from a truck, others were cutting rope into lengths. Three men had apparently been detailed off as sentries; they were standing with rifles in their hands, scanning the bank of the gorge. As they watched, one of the men must have thought he saw something move, because he raised his rifle and fired a shot.
Forester said, Nervous, arent they? Theyre firing at shadows.
OHara studied the gorge. The river was deep and ran fast it was obviously impossible to swim. One would be swept away helplessly in the grip of that rush of water and be frozen to death in ten minutes. Apart from that, there were the problems of climbing down the edge of the gorge to the waters edge and getting up the other side, not to mention the likelihood of being shot.
He crossed the river off his mental list of possibilities and turned his attention to the bridge. It was a primitive suspension contraption with two rope catenaries strung from massive stone buttresses on each side of the gorge. From the catenaries other ropes, graded in length, supported the main roadway of the bridge which was made of planks. But there was a gap in the middle where a lot of planks were missing and the ropes dangled in the breeze.
Forester said softly, Thats why they didnt meet us at the airstrip. See the truck in the river downstream, slapped up against the side of the gorge?
OHara looked and saw the truck in the water, almost totally submerged, with a standing wave of water swirling over the top of the cab. He looked back at the bridge. It seems as though it was crossing from this side when it went over.
That figures, said Forester. I reckon theyd have a couple of men to make the preliminary arrangements stocking up the camp and so on in readiness for the main party. When the main party was due they came down to the bridge to cross God knows for what reason. But they didnt make it and they buggered the bridge, with the main party still on the other side.
Theyre repairing it now, said OHara. Look.
Two men crawled on to the swaying bridge pushing a plank before them. They lashed it into place with the aid of a barrage of shouted advice from terra firma and then retreated. OHara looked at his watch; it had taken them half an hour.
How many planks to go? he asked.
Rohde grunted. About thirty.
That gives us fifteen hours before theyre across, said OHara.
More than that, said Forester. Theyre not likely to do that trapeze act in the dark.
Rohde took out his pistol and carefully sighted on the bridge, using his forearm as a rest. Forester said, Thats no damned use you wont hit anything at fifty yards with a pistol.
I can try, said Rohde.
Forester sighed. All right, he conceded. But just one shot to see how it goes. How many slugs have you got?
I had two magazines with seven bullets in each, said Rohde. I have fired three shots.
You pop off another and that leaves ten. Thats not too many.
Rohde tightened his lips stubbornly and kept the pistol where it was. Forester winked at OHara and said, If you dont mind Im going to retire now. As soon as you start shooting theyre going to shoot right back.
He withdrew slowly, then turned and lay on his back and looked at the sky, gesturing for OHara to join him. It looks as though the time is ripe to hold our council of war, he said. Surrender or fight. But there may be a way out of it have you got that air chart of yours?
OHara produced it. We cant cross the river not here, at least, he said.
Forester spread out the chart and studied it. He put his finger down. Heres the river and this is where we are. This bridge isnt shown. Whats this shading by the river?
Thats the gorge.
Forester whistled. Hell, it starts pretty high in the mountains, so we cant get around it upstream. What about the other way?
OHara measured off the distance roughly. The gorge stretches for about eighty miles down stream, but theres a bridge marked here fifty miles away, as near as dammit.
Thats a hell of a long way, commented Forester. I doubt if the old man could make it not over mountain country.
OHara said, And if that crowd over there have any sense theyll have another truckload of men waiting for us if we do try it. They have the advantage of being able to travel fast on the lower roads.
The bastards have got us boxed in, said Forester. So its surrender or fight.
I surrender to no communists, said OHara.