“ Two On The Bounce” (*)
It was difficult to believe that not thirty miles to the west one entered the Third Battalion’s Bandit Country, a liberated zone where not a dark skin or a federal badge was to be seen. But Portland itself remained a left-liberal stronghold, one of the few real bastions of government support remaining in the Northwest, and Portland State University was a hotbed of political correctness and anti-racist hysteria.
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“Boy, that was quick. They must be after us hot and heavy to get it on the air so fast. Us First Brigade boys are really photogenic,” said Eric dryly. “First those guys on Flanders Street, then Cat leading the band on Oscar night, then Cap Hatfield and the Wild Bunch on Sunset Beach, now us. We’re giving the media all kinds of exciting footage.”
“Hopefully these new threads will disguise us until we can get picked up,” said Annette. They turned and walked on. “Well, this is it. Our old lives are gone now. Any regrets?”
“Not a one,” Eric told her.
“Me neither.”
“Annette, I want you to listen to me and not give me any feminist bullshit or backtalk,” Eric continued, quietly but firmly. “If things break bad, I will hold off whoever it is and draw them off onto me. I want you to run, run like hell, and don’t look back.”
“You did pretty good with nothing but this laptop back there in the student union,” she reminded him.
“I was lucky, and there was only one of them. We won’t have that kind of luck again. I mean it, Annette. You’re a woman, and your life is more important to the future of the race than mine, as pompous as that sounds. You can give life to those who will come after. Like you said, we’re supposed to split up anyway. If anything goes down I want you to run.”
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(*) “On the Bounce” — Northwest Volunteer Army slang term for being on the run from the American police and military.
