Anarchy in the Ashes by William W. Johnstone Read Free Book Online

something in return, or they’re tryin’ to hide something.”
    Ben kept his smile a secret. He thought: Leave it to a farmer. Rural folks could spot a ringer a mile off.
    â€œThey say where they were from?”
    â€œNope.” The man shook his head. “And I asked them flat out.” He spat on the ground. “Personally, I think they’re communists.”
    â€œWhy do you say that?”
    â€œ ’Cause you can ask the same damn question to every damn one of them. The answer don’t never vary. It’s down pat – like they’ve been drilled over and over. A few folks around here have taken a shine to them.” Again he spat on the ground. “Personally, I don’t like them worth a shit!”
    â€œAre they armed?”
    â€œI’ll say they are. Well-armed.” He described the weapons.
    â€œAKs,” Colonel Gray spoke. “Or AKM-74s. Maybe the AKSs. Soviet bloc weapons.”
    â€œDid they give you any names?” Ben asked.
    â€œYep. But first names only. No last names. And I got the feelin’ they was lyin’ about the first names. I don’t like them people.”
    A sergeant standing nearby mused aloud. “How in the hell did they manage to keep it a secret for so many years?”
    â€œBy careful planning,” Ben told him.
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    â€œWell,” the civilian said, “you probably right about that, Mr. Raines. But I’ll tell you this – all of you. We’re organizing around here. So far, it’s comin’ along slow, but it’s comin’. We’ve got about a hundred people so far, and we’re all reasonably well-armed and know how to use the weapons – and will use them. I’ve defended this place several times since the rats and fleas come last year.” He pointed to a graveyard in back of the house. “Them’s the ones who come to steal and rape and kill. They didn’t make it but just that far. Anyways, it’s them damn young people up to Rolla that’s playin’ footsie with the foreigners.”
    â€œYoung people?” Ben quizzed.
    â€œBunch of them have gathered up there at the old college. My cousin over to Dillard says his boy went to one of the lectures given by the IPF, come back home sayin’ it was communistic. The workers this and the workers that – free this and free that. I’ll be goddamned if I’ll see this nation go back to that kind of crap; fucking unions damn near ruined us back in the sixties and seventies. Quality workmanship was hard to find back then. Time the eighties rolled around, if it was made in Japan, buy it. If it was made in America, odds were good it wasn’t worth a shit.” He looked hard at Ben. “You still the president, Mr. Raines?”
    â€œNo,” Ben said. “No, I’m not.”
    â€œShame. You might have been the one to pull us all back together. I think you might have been the only one able to do it. You’re a hard man, but you’re a fair one. But now . . .” He shook his head.
    â€œBut now what, sir?”
    â€œCome on, Mr. Raines – we’ve had it. Oh, I’m not giving up. Don’t you ever think that. But I’ve been doin’ some arithmetic. Say, on the average, and this might be shooting high or low, ten percent of the American people made it out alive from the rats and fleas and plague. What does that leave us, Mr. Raines? A half million folks? A million? Most of them scattered all to hell and gone in little groups of twenty and thirty. No organization, no goals, no plans except survival of the fittest. No nothing. And the young folks!” He laughed bitterly. “Hell, you know how a kid’s mind works: They’re easy prey for anyone with a slick line, holding out a carrot, preaching love and peace and an easy time of it. We’re old enough, Mr. Raines, you and me, to remember the peace and love movement back in the sixties.