Free Alone in the Ashes by William W. Johnstone Page B

centralized, but widely separated, as if the people wanted no part of each other.
    â€œYou’re making a mistake, folks,” he said aloud. “Now is the time to come together, not drift apart. Black, white, red, yellow, tan; we all bleed the same color.”
    At the crossroads, Ben flipped a silver dollar he had carried for years into the air. “Heads, I go right; tails I turn left,” he said.
    The coin came heads up.
    Ben cut the wheel right, heading north.
    He did not see another living soul, nor any sign of human life for the next twenty miles. At Campbell, Missouri, sitting out front of a long-unused service station, Ben spotted a man leaned back in a cane-bottomed chair. The man waved in a friendly gesture and Ben pulled over.”
    â€œHowdy, neighbor,” the man said.
    â€œHello,” Ben returned the greeting.
    â€œBeen waitin’ for you to show up,” the man said. “Folks over to Kennett radioed you was headin’ this way.”
    â€œI see. Then they are a bit more organized than I thought.”
    â€œWe’re pretty well organized around here. They told me you was travelin’ alone and didn’t appear to be hostile. Damn, you look familiar to me, mister.”
    â€œBen Raines.”
    The man turned several shades paler. “ The Ben Raines?”
    â€œI guess so. Is the world ready for two of us?” Ben kidded.
    â€œWell, I’ll just be damned! Well, come on out and let’s talk some. Let me get on the radio and get the folks together. Not that there’s that many of us, mind you.”
    â€œHow many?”
    â€œOh, ’bout two hundred and fifty. And that number is made up of about twenty different bands and knots of folks.”
    Ben decided to keep his mouth shut about the man he’d killed on the road.
    â€œI know what you’re thinkin’, Mr. Raines,” the man said. “Are we under one leader, right? The answer is no. There’s about sixty or so of us that would like that, but the rest of the folks are against it.”
    â€œThen get them together,” Ben said. “I’m not interested in speaking to or meeting any of the other people.”
    The man smiled. “I heard you was a hard, hard man, Mr. Raines.”
    â€œSo I’ve been told, sir. So I’ve been told.”

9
    Ben liked what he saw when the group of people was assembled in the old gym. There were sixty-eight adults gathered, their ages ranging from early twenties to what used to be called the Golden Age.
    But, Ben thought with a smile, this bunch of elderly folks looked fit and hard.
    Ben had met and shaken hands with them all. He’d met a couple of musicians, several farmers, mechanics, former small business people, accountants, two doctors, several lawyers ... a pretty good cross-section of small town America.
    Briefly, Ben explained his idea of outposts stretching across the land. He explained the advantages to that plan, and then let the people talk about it among themselves for a time.
    â€œAnd we can count on help from your Rebels, General Raines?” he was asked.
    â€œOnce you people are committed to the plan, yes,” Ben said. “But I’m not going to send my people in here to waste their time and yours if you’re not ready for organization and law and order. I think you’re all familiar with how the Tri-States operated. That’s the way I’ll expect you to run your community. You people have the beginnings of a good operation here. All you need to do is break away from the dissidents among you and set it up. And you don’t need my help to do that. You’re well armed and you look fit. I’ve given you the frequency of our Base Camp One. If you hit a snag, contact them. The next outpost is just across the river, in Dyersburg. Why don’t you send someone over there to look around, compare ideas. All I can tell you is, ‘good luck.’”
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    Ben pulled