Blood in the Ashes

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Authors: William W. Johnstone
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old building and fires were set, Gale walked to Ben’s side.
    He met her eyes. “I tried to question one of them, Gale. I couldn’t get any sense out of him. He babbled first about the Bible, then about Satan, then about me being Satan’s child. Only one thing he said made any sense.”
    She looked at him.
    â€œHe’d seen a man who called himself The Prophet.”
    Gale sighed. The old man she’d seen personally had come to haunt her. 1 “You think these people are insane?”
    â€œNo. I think they’re losers and savages. People who have given up and who are trying to justify what they’ve become by twisting the word of God all out of proportion. Hell with them.”
    James walked up. “We must have wasted one or more of the leaders,” he said. “Some of the wounded screamed out that they’d be back, in force this time.”
    â€œWe won’t be here,” Ben said. He looked toward the shack. The fire was almost out. The sweet smell of what certain cannibalistic tribes used to refer to as “Long Pig” filled the air. “Mount ’em up, James. Let’s roll.”
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    The small convoy rolled out on Highway 11. They connected with 129 and rolled south. About ten miles north of Macon, Ben pulled them off the road and they made a cold camp for the night. During the night, two of the wounded Rebels died. They were wrapped in blankets and at dawn were buried in a wooded area off the highway, with Ben speaking a few words over the unmarked graves. He then read from Ecclesiastes and from the Psalms.
    Leaving the small gathering, Ben walked to the communications truck and called in to Cecil. He told him of the strange savage people who attacked them, and the loss of four Rebels. He concluded with, “What’s the situation up there, Cec?”
    â€œStable, Ben. But we’re unable to do much in the way of setting up shop, so to speak. I can’t take the chance of spreading our people out too thin. Willette and his bunch have between five hundred and seven hundred followers ready to move. I don’t believe they’ll try anything violent; but I can’t be sure of that. And I can’t risk moving many of our regulars into the countryside to set up permanent bases. Not yet. And—” he sighed—“I’ve got teams out looking for Ike. No luck as yet, I’m sorry to report.”
    â€œI’m just about ready to come back and start kicking ass, Cec.”
    â€œNot yet, Ben,” Cecil cautioned him. “I didn’t realize just how slick Willette and his people were until yesterday. He’s quick and he’s smart. There is nothing I can pin directly on him. Not one damn thing. And Ben? I am afraid for you to return. I mean, physically afraid. Accidents happen, if you get my drift.”
    Ben got the drift. Hot anger filled him, rushing through his veins. “Yeah, Cec, I get the drift, all right. It was sure to happen someday. Well, that day is here. OK, ol’ buddy. After we take a look at Savannah—if there is anything left of that city—I’m going to take my contingent and swing around to the east. I want you to quietly, and quietly is the word, assign me another full platoon. Have them link up with us at . . .” He scanned a map. “Well, just west of Clark Hill Lake. When we get close I’ll contact them by radio as to exact location. Full combat contingent, Cec. And keep teams out looking for Ike.”
    â€œLong as you stay out of it, Ben.”
    Ben ignored that. “You have any idea who ambushed Ike and his party, or the reason behind the ambush, Cec?”
    â€œYes. But it’s getting complicated, Ben. Abe Lancer—he’s the unofficial spokesman for the mountain people of this area—says he got word it was the Ninth Order who grabbed Ike. He says they were working hand in hand with some of Willette’s people. Now try to make any

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