Danger in the Ashes

by William W. Johnstone

  Claimed to be from the South Louisiana area, but when casually questioned about it, knew practically nothing of the area. And the accent was not quite right. Spoke French fluently, but with a European accent. Highly intelligent.

  She had joined in North Carolina.

  “How the hell did she get from South Louisiana to North Carolina?” Ben muttered.

  Cec had said she was self-educated. For some reason he could not quite pinpoint, Ben just didn’t believe that.

  Ben flipped through the papers until he found her enlistment date.

  She had joined just about the time Khamsin’s people landed in South Carolina, give or take a couple of months, since Ben wasn’t sure of the exact landing date.

  “Cute, Khamsin,” Ben muttered. “I didn’t give you credit for this much sense.”

  Patrice wasn’t Creole. She was Libyan. A plant.

  He read the entire report, then laid it aside in disgust. Hell, there it was. She’d been trying to get transferred to the main body of Rebels since the day she first joined.

  Ben leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. If he was right — and he trusted his hunches, they’d saved his life more than once — what to do about it?

  Should he tell Cecil? Yes. Yes, of course. His life might be in danger. But would he believe him?

  One way to find out.

  “Sit down, Cec. Have a drink. I found a bottle of good brandy.” Ben poured them both snifters of brandy.

  “I saw Dr. Chase a few minutes ago. He was laughing, or at least started laughing as soon as he saw me. What’s wrong with that old goat?”

  “Oh, really not much. We were discussing love a little while ago.”

  “Love?”

  “Yeah. You know. Boy meets girl, and so forth?”

  “I get the picture.”

  “How are you and Patrice doing?”

  “Fine.” Cec had a puzzled look on his face.

  “I got a problem, Cec. I want your opinions on it, OK?”

  “Sure, Ben.”

  “I want to run a scenario by you. Then you give me your thoughts on what to do about it.”

  “Fine, Ben.” Cecil relaxed and sipped his brandy.

  “Approximately a month before we learned of Khamsin’s arrival in South Carolina, a person shows up at our small outpost in North Carolina.”

  Cec held up his hand. “How did this person find the outpost? None of the mountain people in that area would have told him about it. A lot of our own Rebels don’t even know where it is.”

  “That’s a good point, Cec. One I also pondered. A very inexpensive homing device would do it, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes. We have some powerful radio equipment up on that mountain. Had, I should say.”

  “That’s right. Anyway, this person joined the Rebel Army. Right there. And this person immediately starts requesting a transfer to Base Camp One. With me so far?”

  “It stinks so far!”

  “I agree. It damn sure does.”

  “Go on.”

  “This person is transferred around, you know the training procedures; you set them up. Florida and North Georgia. But is still very persistent about joining up with the main force. This person claimed to be from a certain part of the country, but when questioned, knows a little about it. Give them the benefit of the doubt; maybe they moved away at an early age. This person claimed to be fluent in a foreign language peculiar to a section of the United States; but when they speak the language, it’s with a European accent. And, as soon as this person does wrangle a transfer to Base Camp One, this person immediately seeks out a very high ranking officer and gets buddy-buddy with him. Now give me your thoughts on it, Cec.”

  “Why, hell, Ben! My first thoughts would be that the person is a plant; a spy. What’s this person’s coloring?”

  “Dark-skinned but not negroid.”

  “Libyan?”

  “Possibly.”

  “I’d pull this person in and interrogate the living hell of him.”

  “It isn’t a him; it’s a her.”

  “Well, her, then. She’s here, in camp?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Have you questioned her?”

  “No. I don’t know what I’m going to do about it, yet, Cec.”

  “I can’t imagine who it is. Well, we’re certainly going to have to warn this officer that he may be in danger.”

  “I agree. I thought I’d let you take care of that.”

  “I certainly will. Do I know this suspect female?”

  “Yes. Captain Patrice Dubois.”

  “They’re out there, Buddy,” James Riverson spoke softly. “Gathering, but well out of range.”

  “Sergeant major?” a Rebel who was looking through night binoculars called.

  “Yes?”

  “Bunch of them gathering around the ashes where we burned those creeps.”

  “What are they doing?”

  “Eating.”

  “Look at those torches in the hills around town.” Ike pointed, turning in a slow circle.

  “The Night People?” Tina questioned.

  “I don’t think so. I don’t have that feeling in my guts. I don’t think they’d deliberately expose themselves to an armed force this large.”

  “Then? . . .”

  “You got me, kid. It could be a bunch of the Underground People, letting us know they’re there and friendly. Or a group of Woods Children, doing the same.”

  “At first light, I’ll send some Scouts up there to check around.”

  “Good deal.” Ike looked around, as if attempting to see through the night.

  “You get the same eerie feeling that I do, Ike?”

  “I bet so. I went into town myself this afternoon. Prowled around. Place has been deserted for a long time. No human skeletons, no fresh graves. Nothing. It’s like they just vanished into the air.”

  “Maybe they did,” Tina suggested, doing her best to put a grin with it. The grin didn’t quite come off.

  “Don’t start that, kid. I’m spooky enough as it is.”

  And from back in the timber, a wolf or wild dog howled, the quavering notes lonely.

  Tina shivered.

  “You boys ready?” Hiram asked the gathering.

  The crowd mumbled low in the night.

  “Got your women movin’ towards the meetin’ spot?”

  The crowd muttered low.

  “G.B. and his boys done got Billy. He’s ready for his punishment. Ready, but not too willin’. Let’s go.”

  The men walked through the night, feet on familiar paths. They came to a gathering; a circle in the middle of deep timber. Billy Bob Rockingham was naked, hanging from a tree limb, tied by his wrists, his feet just barely touching the ground.

  Hiram flipped out his long blacksnake whip.

  Billy remained silent.

  “Hit pains me to do this to you, boy,” Hiram said. “But you broke The Code. And you know you got punishment comin’.”

  “I broke no code,” Billy told his father and the gathering. “I never once spoke agin none of you.”

  “Liar!” Hiram screamed, and swung the whip. The leather cut into Billy’s naked back.

  “Now whut you got to say, boy?” Hiram challenged him.

  “I broke no code. I . . .”

  His words were cut off as the whip whistled through the night air. Hiram beat his son until he was arm-weary and Billy’s back and legs were dripping blood, oozing out of dozens of raw cuts. Billy hung almost unconscious.

  “Git the tar,” Hiram panted the order. “And the feathers.”

  Billy screamed as the hot tar struck the open cuts. Then, mercifully, he dropped into a darkness where he could feel no pain.

  “Feather ’im good,” Hiram ordered. “Then take the traitor into town and dump him. He wants to kiss Ben Raines’s ass . . . let ’im. I don’t never want to see his face agin.”

  Cecil had risen from his chair and walked to the window, to stand for a long time gazing
out into the darkness. After what seemed to Ben to be a half an hour, Cec returned to his seat, a grim look on his face.

  “No fool like an old fool, is there, Ben?”

  “She’s a lovely girl, Cec.”

  “But therein lies the problem, Ben. She is a girl. I’m a middle-aged man with gray in my hair.”

  “And as horny as any twenty-year-old. Believe me, Cec, I know the feeling. I don’t think age has a damn thing to do with the feelings between a man and a woman. Cec, forgive me, but I have to ask this of you. . . .”

  “Did I tell her anything of importance? Yes, yes, I did, Ben. We spent the entire afternoon going over many things.”

  Ben jerked up a field phone. “Security.” He waited for a moment. “Put guards around the quarters of Captain Dubois. Make certain she does not leave the area and under no circumstances is she to be allowed near any communications equipment, got that? Good.” He shoved the phone back into the pouch.

  Ben looked at Cecil. “What does she know, Cec?”

  “She knows of our plans to form outposts, and where. She knows all our caches around the nation. She knows everything that pertains to supply and logistics.” Cecil rose from his chair and slammed one big hand against the wall. “Son of a mother-fucking bitch!” he shouted.

  Ben sat quietly, letting his friend get it all out of his system. Finally, Ben said, “You all through, Cec?”

  “Yes. I apologize for the outburst. The unflappable ex-college professor just lost his cool momentarily.”

  Ben smiled and refilled their snifters. He tapped the folder. “Cec, it’s all circumstantial. There isn’t one hard fact in here. And you are well aware of how I feel concerning circumstantial evidence.”

  Cecil nodded. “She has to be questioned.”

  “Of course.”

  “Let’s have some coffee and sandwiches sent in, Ben. It’s going to be a very long night.”

  The sentry wasn’t sure what it was lying by the side of the road. It damn sure didn’t look human. But then, a lot of things the Rebels had encountered over the years hadn’t looked human.

  The sentry thought he’d heard some sort of vehicle a few moments past; but it had turned off long before it reached his post. He hesitated, then called in on his walkie talkie.

  “This is fifteen. I’m leaving my post to check on an object by the side of the road.”

  “Go ahead, fifteen.”

  Kneeling down beside the object, the sentry softly cursed. “This is fifteen. Send an ambulance to my post, and make it quick.”

  “Ten-four.” Sirens cut the night.

  The medic cussed. “This man’s been tarred and feathered. What kind of assholes would do this to a person?”

  John Simmons had left his house to see what was happening. “That’s Hiram Rockingham’s boy, Billy. That tell you anything?”

  “I’d sure hate to be the one to tell the general about this.”

  “Where is Ben?” John asked. “I’ll tell him.”

  “Probably still in his office. We’ll call him from the hospital.”

  John stood, watching as the stretcher was placed into the back of the ambulance. “Goddamn a person who would do that to a man.”

  “Don’t worry,” the medic told him. “God don’t have to damn him, ’cause Ben Raines will!”

  “I resent being brought here under guard, General Raines!” Patrice bluntly and hotly told him.

  “Sit down, captain. Here,” he shoved a snifter of brandy toward her, “have a drink.”

  “My reli . . . I don’t drink.”

  “You were about to say your religion forbids you to partake of alcohol, captain?”

  “I don’t drink.”

  “Cut the shit, Patrice!” Cecil broke in. His eyes looked furious. “Believe me when I say that Rebel questioning can become brutal.”

  “Torture? The great and fair General Raines uses torture?” She smiled; but it was not a nice smile.

  “Drugs, captain.” Ben took it. “I can assure you that we can jack you so full of drugs you will have absolutely no control over what you tell us. It isn’t pleasant.”

  “I never denied I subscribe to the teachings of Mohammed. I was just never asked. That is why I became upset this morning; over your unfair treatment of those Muslims at their temple.”

  Ben stared at her. He had absolutely no hard evidence that the woman was anything other than what she claimed to be. “Captain, will you agree to take a PSE or polygraph test?”

  “Yes.” She spoke quickly. “If it will help clear up this matter.”

  “It’s going to be a long night, captain. Because I am going to find out all about you. One way or the other.”

  Patrice waved her hand. “There is no need to go to such trouble, general. My stalling would only delay the inevitable. I came to this country with Khamsin. I’m Libyan.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Cecil exploded just as the phone rang.

  Ben jerked it up and listened for a moment, his face hardening, then flushing with fury. “All right, thanks.”

  “What’s wrong, now, Ben?” Cecil asked.

  “Billy Bob Rockingham. Hiram horsewhipped him and then tarred and feathered him. The tar was bubbling hot. Third degree burns over most of his body. Chase says he’s not going to make it. But Billy wants to see all the kids; tell them what happened. He knows he’s dying.”

  “His kids?”

  “All the kids.”

  “What do you suppose he wants to tell them?”

  “To stay with us.”

  THIRTEEN

  It had been an emotional and draining experience for all who witnessed it. Billy, despite his hideous pain, had insisted upon being wheeled into the lobby to face the children. He had told them what had happened. And he had told them that Hiram Rockingham was a bigoted, ignorant fool. He told the kids to stay with the Rebels, please, stay and learn.

  Billy Bob Rockingham had died about two hours after speaking with the children.

  Ben had been the last person to speak with him, and it had torn him emotionally.

  “Who was there during the beating, Billy?”

  “Ever’body. The whole community.”

  “Women included?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That was a fine and brave thing you did with the kids, Billy.”

  “I couldn’t do no less. It ain’t rat . . . right . . . for nobody to choose to grow up dumb. It wasn’t no different down where I live ’fore the bombs come. Dumbness was the thing to be.”

  “Passed on from generation to generation.”

  “Yes, sir. Superstitious, clannish, ignorant people, and they knowed it, and enjoyed bein’ what they was. Still do.”

  Billy had closed his eyes and was still for a long time. Finally, he opened his eyes for the last time to look at Ben. “What I’m about to say is hard, general. But it’s true. You believe that. . . .”

  He gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists to fight the pain.

  “. . . there ain’t none of them ever gonna change. I seed, seen, that tonight. They still gonna follow Hiram and his wild babblin’s. I think you know what you have to do, General Raines.”

  He closed his eyes and did not reopen them. Not in this life.

  Long after Billy Bob had been body-bagged and made ready for burial, Ben still sat on the steps of the two-story hospital. He glanced at his watch. Three o’clock. He was tired, but not a bit sleepy.

  A sentry who had been walking her lonely rounds stopped by Ben’s position.

  “Begging your pardon, sir. But you need to get some sleep. It’ll be dawn in two hours.”

  “Yes, I know. Thank you for your concern. Did you just come on?”

  “Yes, sir. The dog watch.”

  “Lonely watch.”

  The sentry agreed. “Hiram Rockingham and his bunch need to be wiped from the face of the earth,” she blurted.

  Ben smiled. “I agree. Do I detect a southern accent in your voice?”

  “
Yes, sir. Alabama.”

  “You couldn’t have been very old when the bombs came.”

  “No, sir. I just barely remember all the confusion of it. But I’ve been with you for almost five years.”

  Ben looked at her in the night. “Why?” he asked softly.

  She didn’t hesitate. “Because of what you stand for, general. You and General Ike and General Jefferys, and everybody. What are you going to do about Hiram Rockingham and that bunch of trash?”

  “I don’t know. We have the children; that’s what’s important. As for Hiram and the others, I just don’t know.”

  “See you around, sir.”

  “Yes.” Ben watched as she resumed her rounds, watching until she was out of sight.

  He didn’t feel like going to his quarters, so he reentered the hospital and ran into Chase.

  “You better go to bed, you old goat,” Ben told him.

  “I might say the same to you, Raines. What the hell are you doing lurking around here?”

  “I didn’t feel like going back to my quarters, that’s why. You have an extra bed I can use for a few hours?”

  Chase smiled, sort of strangely, Ben thought.

  “Why . . . sure, Ben. I sure do. Come on down to my office for a minute.”

  Chase walked a half step behind Ben, noticing the man’s pronounced limp. Corns on both feet, the doctor thought, then grinned wickedly.

  In his office, the doctor poured them both a double whammy of bourbon — homemade — and jiggled two pills out of a bottle. Ben watched him warily.

  “Been a long day, Ben. You’re all wound up. That affair with Dubois, now Billy Bob’s dying. These are muscle relaxers. Not dope, so don’t look so skittish. I wouldn’t give you anything that I wouldn’t take.”

  Ben sighed and took the offered pills. “You’re right, Lamar. It’s been a trying day.” He swallowed the pills and knocked back the bourbon.

  Chase refilled his glass. He had but sipped at his drink. “Hiram Rockingham, Ben?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I could just sleep for a few days; get over my rage. The way I’m feeling now, I just might take a company down there in a few hours and wipe out the whole goddamned mess of them.”

  “Uummm. Well, you’re going to get a good rest, Ben. And you need it. No doubt about it. And I think that when you wake up, you’ll have a better insight into the problem.”