Free Blood in the Ashes by William W. Johnstone Page A

air. A gesture that he meant no harm to anyone. All the Rebels had been very conscious of eyes on them as they traveled from conditions that would make a pigsty seem attractive, to this well-attended section of Macon, Georgia.
    Ben shifted his eyes left and right as heavily armed men and women appeared out of houses, to stand on well-kept front lawns.
    â€œI’m friendly,” Ben called. “We’re just passing through, looking for survivors. To see how they’re getting along. We mean no harm to anyone, believe me.”
    â€œYou look familiar,” a man called. “Who are you?”
    â€œBen Raines.”
    The men and women relaxed, lowering their weapons. “I thought it might be you,” a well-dressed man said. “But none of us were certain. Have your people park their vehicles over there.” He pointed. “You’re all welcome here.”

NINE
    He did not know why the pain had suddenly stopped. But he was glad it had. His cuts had been cleaned and bandaged. He had been allowed to bathe and was given clean clothing.
    Ike now sat alone in a small room. The door was locked from the outside. The room contained a cot, with blanket and pillow, a bucket of water, and a cane-bottomed chair. Nothing else.
    He did not have any idea where he was.
    But he sure as hell wished he was somewhere else.
    He began making plans for escape.

TEN
    Cecil knew Ben Raines as well as any man living, and Cecil felt certain Ben was going to pull out once Ike was found and the suspected coup attempt was put to rest. And Cecil really couldn’t blame Ben. The man had never asked for the job. It had been pushed on him, beginning back in ’88, in the old Tri-States. Ben had never wanted all the responsibility that had been piled on his shoulders. Big shoulders, to be sure, but lots of big problems, too. And Cecil knew Ben didn’t want to break away on any permanent basis—he just wanted to take a rest, get away for a time.
    Cecil knew the reins of government would be handed to him if Ben pulled out. And he wondered if he could handle all the problems that went with the territory.
    He knew he had the respect of the Rebels. The Rebels were so racially mixed, that old issue never came up. People just did their jobs and nobody gave a damn what color they were. Ben wouldn’t put up with blind race prejudice for five seconds.
    But Cecil knew that while he had the loyalty and respect of the Rebels ... he wasn’t Ben Raines.

ELEVEN
    He would really be king of the mountain if he could kill Ben Raines, Tony mused. He didn’t know what had happened to that Russian bastard, Striganov, only that he had taken his people and headed out west. All that mess had been over and done with before Tony even knew what was happening. One had to rely on the infrequent broadcasts of ham operators for news, and they sometimes got it all screwed up.
    Fuck the west! Tony thought. The Russian could have the west, Tony would take everything east of the Mississippi River. Maybe after he blew Ben Raines’ shit away, he could arrange for a sit-down with General Striganov, work something out. Striganov. Christ, what a name. Sounded like something to eat.
    Tony leaned back in his chair in the converted motel room outside Savannah. The young chick, Ann, was in the adjoining room, playing with dolls, for Christ’s sake. Acted like she’d never seen a goddamn doll before. Tony shook his head in disgust. Cunt like Ann had on her and she plays with fucking dolls! Tony grinned. He knew Ann had been lying when she’d told him she got off their first time together. But Tony knew women, and after their fourth time together, he looked at the kid’s face and knew she really was getting off. Now she couldn’t get enough cock. His grin widened.
    Women were all alike. Young or old. Kept their brains between their legs.
    It had been a good move, coming up to south Georgia. He’d been friggin’ tired