Hatred in the Ashes

by William W. Johnstone

  “Nothing,” Alice said. “We’d have heard it on the radio. They’re probably just goofing off.”

  “Yeah,” Beck said. “Like us, they lost the trail and don’t know what to do next.”

  The big SUV pulled in and parked next to the first team’s vehicle.

  “You want to try to make a run for it?” Anna asked in a whisper.

  “No. The brush is too dry. We’d make too much noise. But we may have to shoot our way out of here. Jesus, how many people are in that big SUV?”

  “Six, it looks like.”

  “Ten to two. Great odds.”

  “Well, maybe Mack will pee and they’ll leave.”

  “They’re getting a big ice chest out of the SUV. I think they’re going to have lunch.”

  “I’d kill for a ham sandwich,” Anna said wistfully.

  “I hate to say it, but so would I. If Mack turns the wrong way while he’s back here taking a whiz you’re not only going to get a cheap thrill, but we’re going to have a fight on our hands.”

  Anna made a gagging sound at that and stuck out her tongue at Ben. “If he waves his pecker in my direction, I’ll shoot the damn thing off.”

  “Be quiet. Here he comes.”

  Mack kept his back to Ben and Anna as he relieved himself. He started to zip up and got the zipper stuck. He cussed and hopped around and jerked at the zipper. Nothing worked. The zipper remained jammed.

  “Shit!” Anna whispered in disgust.

  “What the hell are you doing back there, Mack?” Darin yelled. “Come on, we’re gonna have lunch.”

  “My damn zipper’s stuck!” Mack yelled. “I mean, it’s jammed up tight.”

  As the others laughed at him, Mack turned and looked straight at where Ben and Anna were hiding in the ditch. He stopped working at the zipper and stared for a moment. Something didn’t look right to him.

  “What the hell . . .” he muttered. “What is that?” He shrugged and half turned, then stopped and looked back.

  After thinking it over for a few seconds, he took a couple of steps closer to the shallow, brush-covered ditch, his hand moving to rest on the butt of his pistol. He cocked his head to one side, a very puzzled look on his face. He took a couple more steps, then stopped as what he was really seeing finally dawned on him.

  Then he looked right into the eyes of Ben. His mouth dropped open in surprise.

  “Jesus H. Christ! Goddamn, it’s Raines!” the FPPS agent shouted, and jerked out his pistol.

  Ben had no choice. He shot the man.

  Anna had shifted positions the instant Ben fired, and was able to cover one side of the building where the other agents were, facing the road.

  One FPPS agent came boiling around the side of the building, a submachine gun at the ready, and Anna shot him, knocking the legs from under him and sending him yelling in pain and sprawling to the hard ground.

  “Get on the damn radio!” Alice yelled. “Advise the CP we have Raines and the girl pinned down, and get some help out here right now.”

  “I don’t think so,” Anna muttered. From her position, she was able to cover both Federal vehicles. She waited for an agent to make a move.

  One did. The FPPS agent called George tried a fast run for his SUV, and Anna brought him down, the impacting 5.56 rounds knocking him face first onto the cracked concrete of the old parking lot. George rolled over a couple of times, and came up on one knee, leveling his CAR. Anna gave him another burst and turned out George’s lights forever.

  Ben lobbed a grenade into the rear of the old building, and when it blew the concussion just about finished what was left of the frame structure. The front half of the building gave it up and collapsed outward, the debris burying two of the FPPS agents.

  “Get this shit off me!” Nickie hollered. “I can’t get out from under it.”

  “Help!” Pat yelled. “I’m pinned in here. I can’t move.”

  Ben tossed another grenade and the rest of the termite-infested old building fell apart, settling to the ground in a cloud of dust.

  Both Ben and Anna moved during that shattered minute of dusty confusion—Ben a half dozen yards to his left, Anna a half dozen yards to her right.

  They could now cover the road and the vehicles.

  Anna held up a grenade and Ben nodded, pulling the pin on a grenade. Father and daughter hurled the lethal mini-bombs, which landed just behind the front of the debris and blew, sending shards of wood and chunks of concrete block flying in all directions.

  One small chunk of concrete hit Alice smack in the center of her forehead and knocked her as goofy as a road lizard. She lost her weapon amid the dust and falling debris. She crawled around on the ground, dazed and confused and bleeding from a cut on her forehead until she finally collapsed, out of it for a few moments.

  Agent Beck emerged from the jumble of fallen crap and got off half a magazine before Ben and Anna riddled him with bullets.

  Darin tried a run for his vehicle and Anna put him down, stitching him across the waist. Darin tried to crawl, but his legs would not function. He died face down in the dust.

  “Shit on this!” Pat yelled as he finally managed to work his way clear of the rubble that had buried him and Nickie. He burned a few rounds in Ben’s direction. Bad move on his part. He forgot to take Ben’s shift in position into account, and his shots hit air. Ben didn’t miss. Ben shot him in the chest, and Pat went down on his back. His legs trembled once, then he was still.

  “Hey, folks!” Hal yelled. “Listen to me for a minute. Stop shooting. How about a truce? Huh? I’m not all that keen on dying.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Ben said. “All of you toss out your guns and stand up, and you’ll live. But it had better be unanimous, and no tricks.”

  “I’m out of it,” Roy said. “I need a doctor. I’m hit in both legs.”

  “Sounds OK to me,” Agent Paul called. “Here’s my guns, coming out.” A pistol and M-16 came clattering out onto the concrete.

  “Get the rest of this crap off me, and I’ll be more than happy to give it up,” Nickie yelled. “But I can’t move. My legs are pinned.”

  “Alice is unconscious,” Hal called. “So I’ll vote for her. We’re done, General Raines. Like through, man.”

  “Toss all the guns out and stand up. Behave, and I promise you that none of you will be hurt. One of you go help the woman get clear of that debris that fell on her. And a couple of you help your wounded partner.”

  Anna gathered up all the weapons and looked at Ben. “The big SUV,” he told her. “Let’s ride in style.”

  She grinned and winked at him. Anna’s spirit was indefatigable.

  After putting the weapons in the back of the big wagon, Anna stood guard over the agents while Ben checked the wounded man. His wounds were certainly painful, but not at all life-threatening. He put a field dressing on the wounds, gave the man some antibiotics in tablet form, and then gave him a pain pill.

  “That’ll help with the pain, and you’ll live,” Ben told the man. “But I can tell you not for long if you keep fucking around with Rebels.”

  The wounded agent tried a smile. “I can damn sure believe that, General. You guys play rough.”

  “You people are dicking around with a way of life that works well for us. Leave us the hell alone, and everything will be all right.”

  “I’m just taking orders, that’s all, General.”

  “Yeah, I know. The best advice I can give you is to stop it.”

  “Then how do I make a living and feed my kids?”

  “Find another job, partner.”

  The agent looked at him.

  “Unless you enjoy kicking in the doors of decent people in the middle of the night and rousting them out of bed.”

  “There are laws against possessing certain types of guns in America, General.”

  “Yeah, right. The forerunner of the FPPS used to remind me of that every now and then.”

  “That hasn’t been that many years ago, General. If
you people hadn’t formed up into survival groups and militias and raised so much anti-government talk, the collapse of the government might not have happened.”

  Ben chuckled at that. “Is that what the present administration is teaching now?”

  “President Osterman is a wonderful person,” the agent said stiffly. “And you people are very wrong when you say she is a socialist.”

  “It’s a unique brand of socialism, boy. I refer to much of it as cultural Marxism.”

  “Sir? That’s a new one on me.”

  “Political correctness, son. It’s nothing more than cultural Marxism.”

  “I’ll have to remember that.”

  “Yeah. When your masters debrief you after this operation be sure and tell them what I said.”

  “Rest assured, I will.”

  “I’m sure of that, son.” Ben gave the wounded agent a pain pill. “Put that in your pocket for later. It’s probably going to be several hours before anyone comes looking for you. And take my word for it, it’s a long hike out of here.”

  “You’ll never make it to the border, General.”

  “Oh, I think we will. And I really hope we can do it without further bloodshed.”

  “Roy, stop talking to that traitorous bastard!” Alice shouted across the way. “And by God, that’s an order. You two are getting real chummy over there.”

  The woman was sitting up, her butt on a concrete block, and had regained her senses, as much as she ever had them—which probably wasn’t that much, considering the type of government she was working for. One of the other agents had put a field dressing on her forehead and given her a couple of aspirin.

  Alice concluded her opinion of Ben Raines. “The son of a bitch is venomous as a cobra! And slick as an eel.” She looked at Anna. “So is this Rebel whore.”

  “Screw you, too, lady,” Anna said. “That is, if anybody would want to.”

  Alice cussed Anna and Anna gave the woman a very dirty look, followed by the finger.

  “Filthy bitch!” Alice said. “What do you do in your spare time, whore—fuck the troops?”

  “Easy, Anna,” Ben cautioned. “She’s just trying to get you to do something stupid.”

  Anna smiled at Alice. “Fucking the troops is certainly something you’d never do, is it, Butch?”

  Ben thought Alice was going to lose it and do something really dumb, but the woman managed to hold her temper in check. She looked down at the ground and said no more.

  “All right,” Ben said. “Anna, you take the two women over behind that broken-down shed and make them strip down to the skin.” He smiled. “Including their boots. Bring their clothing over here to me. You men, as soon as the ladies are out of sight peel down and toss your clothing over to me. Do it!”

  “I’ll do no such thing!” Alice flared.

  “Yes, you will,” Anna said, lifting the muzzle of her CAR. “Or I’ll knock a leg out from under you and rip the clothes off you.”

  “You better do what she tells you to do, Alice,” Ben said. “Right now.”

  Nickie tugged at Alice’s arm. “Come on, Alice. It’s no big deal. Let’s do it.”

  With dirty looks at Ben and Anna, Alice and Nickie walked off behind the shed.

  “Peel,” Ben told the men.

  Ben gathered all the clothing and went through the pockets, looking for lighters and matches. They could start a fire, and a large amount of smoke would bring investigators. He found several boxes of matches and several lighters. . . and a couple packs of cigarettes. He put the cigarettes in his pocket and stowed the matches and lighters in a rucksack.

  Anna tossed him the women’s clothing and he went through it, finding a small packet of waterproof matches in a pocket in each multi-pocketed jumpsuit. He tossed the clothing back to Anna, minus the boots, then returned the clothing to the men, also minus the boots.

  Ben tossed the boots in the second seat of the big SUV. He then loaded the still unopened ice chest in the rear cargo compartment.

  “OK, boys and girls,” Ben said. “Get into that piece of shed over there and stay put. And I mean stay put.”

  “What about our boots?” Nickie asked.

  “They stay with us. You won’t be walking very far barefoot.”

  “That’s no way to treat prisoners of war, General,” Roy said.

  “You’re not prisoners of war. War has not yet been officially declared between our two countries, and personally I hope it never is.”

  “Oh, it will be, General,” Alice popped off. “And we’ll destroy your goddamn gunsmoke society. And I hope I get you in gunsights someday.”

  “Oh Jesus, Alice,” Nickie said. “Will you please shut that damn mouth of yours?”

  “Don’t you dare speak to me in that tone of voice!” Alice yelled at her. “I’m the senior agent here.”

  “Whoopee and congratulations,” Anna said. “Now haul your senior ass into that shed, lady. Move it!”

  Ben noticed that several of the men smiled at the exchange between the two female FPPS agents. Ben suspected that all was not real hunky-dory when it came to promotions within the government agency.

  When the agents had been herded into the shed, Anna said, “They won’t be in there one minute after we pull out. ”

  “I know it. But I don’t think they’ll go very far barefooted. You drive the other SUV, Baby. Follow me down the road for a few miles, then we’ll tuck it away in the woods and rip out some wiring just in case they do hike down a ways and find it . . . which is very doubtful.”

  “OK. Did you look in the icechest? What’s in there? I’m hungry as a hog.”

  “No, I haven’t. Not yet. We’ll eat when we get a few miles down the road.”

  “I can last that long, I guess, before I fall over from hunger. Anything holding us here?”

  “Just gravity.”

  “Smartass,” she muttered. “So let’s go, before Alice decides to do something real funky.”

  “Funky? I haven’t heard that word in a long time.”

  “How about ‘shitty,’ then?”

  Ben shook his head. “Forget it kid. Let’s get gone from here.”

  “Yeah, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

  Ben muttered under his breath about young people in general and Anna in particular, and walked to the lead SUV.

  Thirty seconds after they had pulled out, Alice stepped gingerly out of the old shed, walking carefully on bare feet. She looked down the road and lifted her right hand, saluting Ben and Anna with a middle finger.

  Twenty-four

  Ben found an old road of sorts about ten miles from the site of the shootout and turned off the highway. He and Anna tried on the boots taken from the FPPS agents and each found a pair that fit perfectly. Then they opened the well-stocked icechest and had lunch.

  “I don’t think these agents were paying much attention to a healthy diet,” Ben remarked, fixing a huge sandwich.

  At the moment, Anna could only nod her head in agreement. She was too busy chowing down on a sandwich approximately the same size as a catcher’s mitt.

  After chewing and swallowing and take a long drink of cola, Anna said, “Not much farther, according to the map.”

  “Probably forty miles to the border. But they’ll be dicey ones. Bet on that.”

  Finished with lunch, with no lingering hunger pangs for the first time in several days, Ben ripped several handfuls of wiring from under the hood and dash of the second, smaller SUV and Anna got into the big SUV with him.

  Heading down the road, Anna clicked on the dash radio and she and Ben listened to the news. Federal troops had again tried to punch through along the border of Virginia and had been beaten back. Several teams of guerrillas had tried to land along the South Carolina coast. They had been killed, and the ship that brought them had been sunk, many of the crew taken captive by the Rebels.

  Anna switched stations, over to a SUSA based Free Radio Network station. President Osterman had called for a world boycott against
the SUSA. It had been ignored by all the leaders of the free world. While many of the leaders of other nations did not approve of the Tri-States philosophy of government, the SUSA was by far the most productive nation in the world, with most of its factories running at least sixteen hours a day and others working around the clock. The goods produced by the workers in the SUSA were of the highest quality. Leaders in many countries remembered it was Ben Raines and the Rebels who risked their own lives to save their asses, even though many of those same countries were now on the verge of civil war themselves. Besides all that, no one wanted to get on the bad side of the President of the SUSA, Cecil Jefferys, and they sure as hell didn’t want to get Ben Raines pissed at them.

  The Federal troops had once again pulled back to regroup and make plans.

  “Those troops we saw back up the road,” Anna said.

  “Yes. I hate to see this, but war’s definitely coming. And when the Federals come at us in full force, it will eventually tear this country apart.”

  They rode for a few miles in silence, not seeing another vehicle on the road.

  “I know a way to stop this war before it can get started.” Anna broke the silence. She looked hard at Ben. “And so do you.”

  “Yes. I do. But we’d have to whack a lot of people. My Zero Squads did just that about a decade ago. And they all died doing it. A lot of very good people.” Ben sighed and shook his head. “That is strictly a last resort, and I hope it never reaches that point.”

  “But you think it might?”

  “Yes, I do, Anna. It’s sad, but I do. And when it does, it will be the end of this once great country—both the SUSA and the USA. Nothing will ever be the same again after that. It will be the darkest moment in our history.”

  “But we can rebuild, Pops.”

  “You young people can try, and I hope you succeed. But for me, I plan to go down with a gun in my hands, fighting for what I believe in.”

  “And Uncle Ike?”

  “He’ll be with me, and so will Cecil and a lot of others who have helped make a dream become a reality for millions of Tri-Staters.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”