The Last Rebel: Survivor by William W. Johnstone Read Free Book Online

one of the pleasures of life in northwest Idaho.”
    “What’s that?”
    “No TV. You’re forced to read—and think. Nothing like a cup of coffee and a book.”
    Bev laughed.
    “Tell you what let’s do, Bev. Let’s find us a house that has heat and take a shower or bath. I could sure use one.”
    Her face brightened. “Yeah! That sounds great to me. But I don’t have any clean clothes.”
    “So when we stop at houses we’ll look for some. We’re sure to find something that will fit you. First, we have to find some houses.”
    They got back in the HumVee and on the road. Over the next twenty miles or so, they found three houses, none directly on the road—which of course Jim liked—and all reachable by roads that were just wide enough to accommodate the HumVee.
    All of the homes had been ransacked and pillaged. Only one of them was powered by propane, and there was no chance of taking a bath there: all the propane had been depleted. But Bev found some clean clothes around her size and took them. They also found some blankets and loaded these into the HumVee, as well as a winter coat for Bev, which they took, since they would be traveling into the mountains, and Jim knew that it could be eighty-five degrees during the day, as it was now, and drop down to thirty-five or forty at night.
    At another of the homes they found a new pair of lace-up boots that fit her and a half dozen pairs of socks.
    “You should put those boots on,” Jim said.
    “Why?”
    “If we stay off the main roads and camp out you never know what’s in the ground cover.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Wyoming has its share of rattlesnakes. Sometimes they give a warning by rattling, but sometimes they’re just in the bushes or under a rock. You got to be careful.”
    Jim had gotten Bev’s attention.
    “What will we do if one of us gets bitten?”
    “Die,” Jim said with a straight face, then smiled. Bev laughed. “Actually, “Jim said, “the prairie rattlers aren’t that dangerous. You won’t die from their bites but you can get sick. The one that’s really dangerous is the smaller midget rattlesnake. They’re found just about where we are within the lower Green River valley. They’re ten to thirty times more poisonous than the prairie variety. Fortunately, they’re very timid and pose little or no threat to us.”
    “Okay,” Bev said, smiling, “no problem wearing the boots.”
    In one of the houses Jim also found a pistol that the Rejects had overlooked, a Soviet TT-33 automatic pistol, which Ray had once shown to Jim in a book and said it was very widely used by guerillas. He also found several hundred rounds of 7.62-by-39mm cartridges for it. It was a simple, well-made gun and seemed ideal for Bev.
    “My brother Ray told me that this gun was one of the most commonly made guns of all time. It used to be used by the Soviet army front-line forces, but no more. But reserves and militia still use it.”
    Jim paused.
    “I think it’s a good weapon for you. You shouldn’t be without a weapon, even though you know empty-hand combat.”
    “You’re right,” Bev said.
    Jim showed her how to use the gun, then loaded it and put the safety on and handed it to her. It looked large in her small hand.
    “Lord,” she said, “I’m a long way from Sunday services and listening to my father give a homily.”
    “You ever shoot a gun?”
    “No.”
    “All you have to do is point it at the person like you’re pointing your finger and squeeze the trigger.”
    “How come you know so much about guns?”
    “I’m from Idaho, remember?”
    “Yes, but this looks like a military weapon.”
    “I learned about guns from my brother Ray, who was in the Great War.”
    “Where is he?”
    “He got killed.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    “Thank you. We were very proud of him,” Jim said, lost for a moment in the memory. “Just an ordinary mountain man, like me, like so many other guys who were very ordinary, but when war came he