the justice system, increased taxation, or anything else. She was
apolitical and saw no reason to he concerned about who might winH)r
usurp-the power flowing from the ballot box, for it was easy to believe
in the benign intentions of those who so ardently desired to seeve the
public.
She gnped in astonishment at him. He did not even have to see that
expression through the flickering light and shadow to know it held
tenancy of her face, for he sensed it in the change in her breathing and
in the greater tension that suddenly gripped her and caused her to sit
up staaighter.
“Kill me? No, no, Benny. The U.S. government just executing civilians
as if this were some banana republic?
No, surely not.”
“Not necessarily the whole government, Rachael. The House, Senate,
president’ and cabinet secretaries haven’t held meetings to discuss the
obstacle you pose, haven’t conspired by the hundreds to terminate you.
But someone in the Pentagon or the D.S.A or the CIA has determined that
you’re standing in the way of the national interest, that you pose a
threat to the welfare of millions of citizens.
When they weigh the welfare of millions against one or two little
murders, the choice is clear to them, as it always is to collectivist
thinkers. One or two little murders-tens of thousands of murders-are
always justifiable when the welfare of the masses is at stake. At
least, that’s how they see it, even if they do pretend to believe in the
sanctity of the individual. So they can order one or two little murders
and even feel righteous about it.”
“Dear God,” she said with feeling. “What have I dragged you into,
Benny?”
“You didn’t drag me into anything,” he said. “I forced my way in. You
couldn’t keep me out of it. And I’ve no regrets.”
She seemed unable to speak.
Ahead, on the left, a branch road led down to the lake.
A sign announced, LAKE APPROACH-BOAT LAUNCHING FACILITIES.
Ben turned off the state route and followed the narrower gravel road
down through a crowd of immense trees. In a quarter of a mile, he drove
out of the trees, into a sixty-foot-wide, three-hundred-foot-long open
area by the shore. Sequins of sunlight decorated the lake in some
places, and serpentine streams of sunlight wriggled across the shifting
surface in other places, and here and there brilliant shafts bounced off
the waves and dazzled the eye.
More than a dozen cars, pickups, and campers were parked at the far end
of the clearing, several with empty boat trailers behind them. A big
recreational pickup black with red and gray stripes, bedecked with gobs
of sun-heated chrome-was backed up near the water’s edge, and three men
were launching a twenty-four-foot twin-engine Water King from their
trailen Several people were eating lunch at picnic tables near the
shore, and an Irish setter was sniffing under a table in search of
scraps, and two young boys were tossing a football back and forth, and
eight or ten fishermen were tending their poles along the bank.
They all looked as if they were enjoying themselves.
If any of them realized the world beyond this pleasant haven was turning
dark and going mad, he was keeping it to himself.
Benny drove to the parking area but tucked the Ford in by the edge of
the forest, as far from the other vehicles as he could get. He switched
off the engine and rolled down his window. He put his seat back as far
as it would go in order to give himself room to work, took the shotgun
box on his lap, opened it, withdrew the gun, and threw the empty box
into the back seat.
“Keep a watch out,” he told Rachael. “You see anybody coming, let me
know. I’ll get out and meet him. Don’t want anybody to see the shotgun
and be spooked. It’s sure as hell not hunting season.
“Benny, what’re we going to do?”
“Just what we planned to do,” he said, using one of the car keys to slit
the shrink-wrapped Plastic in which the shotgun was encased.
“Follow the directions Sarah Kiel gave you, find Eric’s cabin, and see