Chaos in the Ashes

by William W. Johnstone

  “Do not fire on them,” Ben ordered. “Make that perfectly clear. Do not fire on them. I don’t want any more children harmed.”

  “Right, boss.” Corrie quickly relayed the orders.

  When she had done that, Ben asked, “Any word on the whereabouts of Ray Brown?”

  “Negative.”

  “He’ll surface,” Ben muttered. “And when he does, I’ll be there.” Ben was unaware of the psychological warfare officer looking at him strangely. “And then,” Ben added, “I’ll see just how well he can die.”

  “This thing with Ray Brown sounds personal, sir,” the officer said.

  Ben looked at him. The officer thought he had never seen such deadly coldness in a gaze. “Very personal,” Ben said, then walked over to the wagon and got in.

  “Where to, boss?” Cooper asked, when everybody was in their seats.

  “North. Let’s settle this thing with Musseldine. Tell the battalion to fall in, Corrie. Scouts out.”

  “You may never find this Ray Brown person, General Ben,” Anna said.

  “I’ll find him,” Ben replied. “Whether it takes one month or ten years, I will find him. And whether he surrenders or I capture him . . . I’ll kill him.”

  ELEVEN

  Ben’s ruthlessness shocked Jethro Musseldine. Up until the assault on Little Rock, he had not known just how well-equipped the Rebels were. Now he knew there was not a single weapon of war the Rebels did not possess . . . nor would Ben Raines hesitate to use any of them.

  As his people advanced north, Musseldine dejectedly assessed his situation. He had lost nearly a third of his army in Little Rock. Musseldine was certain that somehow he had failed God, and this was his punishment.

  Perhaps God didn’t really want him to fight Ben Raines after all. Could that be it? Was this a sign from Above? No, Musseldine rejected that . . . absolutely not . . . Well . . . maybe it was. Jethro wasn’t all that certain that God had instructed him personally to fight the Great Satan called Ben Raines. That vision might have been brought on by indigestion; he had eaten a whole berry pie that evening before retiring.

  But for sure something had to be done to stop the rampaging of Ben Raines and his Rebels. The man was so . . . well, godless.

  Jethro was on a mission . . . a crusade. When the nation was restored, there simply had to be prayer in public schools, as well as Bible classes beginning in the first grade. Abortion must be halted at all costs. Any mention of evolution would be forbidden. And non-believers would be cast out and stoned . . . that’s what the Bible said must happen.

  Well, it sort of said that . . . depended on one’s interpretation.

  At Russellville, Arkansas (what was left of it), Mussel-dine had made up his mind. He ordered his columns halted.

  “We shall fight the many-headed beast here,” he announced.

  He ordered his people to form a line stretching from Russellville east to Searcy (what was left of it).

  “We’ll force the Great Satan to meet us mano a mano!..”

  Then he had to explain to many of his true believers exactly what that meant, for many of his followers just weren’t that swift when it came to meshing together gray matter.

  “This will be the end of Ben Raines,” Musseldine shouted to his wild-eyed followers. “This will be Ben Raines’s last stand in America . . .”

  Uh-huh. Yeah. Right.

  When Ben heard that, he was reminded of that old joke about Custer’s last thoughts: Holy Cow, where’d all these fuckin’ Indians come from?

  * * *

  “Well, it’s not that bad a place to make a stand,” Ben said, looking at a map. Intelligence had quickly picked up on the signals from Musseldine’s camp. “He’s got the Arkansas River and this lake to his west, and the White River to his east. That would slow us down some if we wanted to do an end-around. How about these little towns around the area?”

  “When the gangs of rabble came in, most of the people fled,” a Scout told him. “Many of them headed into the Ouachita Mountains to wait it out. We’ve made contact them and advised them to keep their heads down until the smoke clears.”

  “The children with Musclehead’s people?”

  The Scout smiled but did not correct Ben. “We have confirmed that he has ordered them moved north, out of harm’s way. Intel has intercepted a number of messages to that effect.”

  “I want one last try at talking to this man,” Ben said. “Corrie, see if you can contact this Jethro Musclebrain.”

  “Musseldine, boss.”

  “Right. Whatever.”

  After a few moments, she said, “Musseldine on the blower, boss.”

  Ben took the mic. “Jethro, Ben Raines here. We don’t have to be enemies. This fighting can come to a halt right now. It’s all up to you.”

  “You mean, surrender, Raines?”

  “No. Just quit fighting and go home. Keep your weapons. Let’s live in peace. How about it?”

  “You’re trying to trick me!” Musseldine screamed.

  “No, I’m not. No trick. We can end the fighting and you and your people can just go home.”

  “It’s a dirty trick! That’s what it is. It’s a filthy, rotten trick.”

  Ben sighed. “Musselbone, it’s no trick. We can work together and co-exist in peace. Set up your private schools and teach religion. I don’t care. You can have a church on every corner if that is what you wish. Forbid abortions in your towns. I won’t interfere with that and neither will any of my people—”

  “I abhor a liar. And that’s what you are, Raines. You are not an honorable man.”

  “What the hell does it take to convince this nut?” Ben muttered. He looked at Corrie. “I want every weapon that is capable of delivering tear gas and pepper gas made ready.”

  “They’re ready, boss. Helicopters circling now, two minutes away. All troops have been issued tear gas and pepper gas canisters.”

  “Fine.” He lifted the mic. “Musselfoot, are you there? Let’s sit down and talk this thing out. We can live in peace.”

  “Liar, liar, pants on fire!” Jethro screamed.

  Ben stared at the speaker and shook his head.

  Jethro started preaching to Ben.

  “Oh, shit!” Ben said. “I’m offering him peace and he’s giving us a sermon.”

  Musseldine was ranting and raving and gulping air, running his words together as if he had suddenly been transported to the Plain of Shinar and was standing in the center of the Tower of Babel. Then he started speaking in tongues.

  “What the hell is that?” Anna blurted.

  “He’s got the spirit,” Ben told her.

  “I hope it’s not contagious,” Anna replied.

  Ben keyed the mic. “Musselhead,” he said wearily.

  Anna giggled. “Musseldine, General Ben.”

  “Right. Whatever.” He lifted the mic. “Are you receiving this?”

  “Ummgomalottagoogooda.”

  “Muskethead, get a grip on things. Speak English. This is important. I’ve trying to save lives here.”

  “SlopgooyumgoochyJerryLeeandElvistoo.”

  “Shall we have the artillery start dropping in the gas?” Anna asked. “Please?”

  “Hell, no,” Ben said. “We can’t interrupt a religious ceremony. That would be unconstitutional. I think.” He pressed the talk button. “Muscatel, are you back to earth yet?”

  “Gammaboggiewoogierockumsockumgomango!”

  “He sounds like Emil Hite,” Jersey remarked.

  “Emil makes more sense than that.” Ben frowned. “Most of the time, that is.”

  “FOs report Musseldine’s people, all up and down the line, are standing up, boss,” Corrie said. “They’re dancing and waving their arms and appear to be speaking in tongues.”

  “This is not good,” Ben said. “Tell all forward observers to get into protective gear and start falling back.”

  “Slay the infidels!” Musseldine shouted, rattling the speaker.

  “Now he
’s beginning to make some sense,” Ben said.

  “Well, sort of.”

  “Drive the godless Philistines into the sea!”

  “What sea?” Cooper asked. “Nearest body of water around here is that pond over there.”

  Ben spoke into the mic. “Musselman? Can you hear me?”

  “Whopbopaloomabopbamboom!”

  “If you could put guitar and drums behind that, it’d be real catchy,” Jersey said with a straight face.

  He couldn’t help it. Ben burst out laughing.

  “I hear the sounds of the many-headed beast rising out of the fiery, smoking depths of hell!” Jethro shouted.

  “I kind of wish we’d stayed in Europe,” Beth said. “At least that war made some sense.”

  Ben wiped laughter tears from his eyes. “This may work out to our advantage, if he can really get his people all worked up. Have everybody stand by to throw gas. I think that nut is going to do something really stupid.”

  “Gird your loins!” Musseldine screamed orders to his people. “We have Michael with us and . . . ah, John Wayne, too.”

  “Now I know he’s going to do something really dumb. Everybody into protective gear. Shake out those gas masks.”

  “Prepare to slay the dragon!”

  “Is that us?” Cooper asked.

  “That’s us,” Ben told him.

  “Blow, bugle, blow!” Musseldine screamed.

  “Here it comes,” Ben said.

  “Charge!” Musseldine shouted.

  Ben looked at the speaker. “Did that fool say what I think he said?”

  “I believe he said ‘charge’, boss,” Corrie said.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Corrie’s radio squawked. “General, there are hundreds of those crazy sons-of-bitches charging us up here! Many of them have forgotten their weapons and are charging us with empty hands. They’re shouting in some strange language.”

  “They’re all speaking in tongues.” Ben grabbed the mic. “Get out of there. I’m sending in gas. Eagle to air leader. Get in there and drop those gas canisters. Cover the land. Mortar and artillery . . . start putting the gas to them.”

  Over the speaker, they could hear the faint shouts and wild speaking in tongues from the charging troops of Musseldine.

  Ben slipped on his mask as the first canisters of gas were hurled into the air.

  “Hell of a way to fight a war,” Ben muttered.

  There were no casualties on the Rebel side and very few among the soldiers of Musseldine. While Musseldine’s people were staggering around, blind and incapacitated from the gas, the Rebels disarmed those who had remembered to bring their weapons along on the wild charge. Some of Musseldine’s people escaped, but not enough of them to cause any worry for Ben.

  After the medics flooded Jethro’s eyes and he could once more see, Ben had him brought to his temporary CP. He waved him to a chair. “Jethro, are you still dancing with angels on the head of a pin, or do you now have both feet firmly on the ground?”

  “I am quite lucid,” Jethro said stiffly.

  “Marvelous. Should you decide to go off again, speaking with the angels, warn me so I can clear out.”

  “I am not gripped by the spirit very often.”

  “Good. I’m very relieved to hear that. Where are you from, Jethro?”

  “Fayetteville.”

  “And your, ah, followers?”

  “From all over the state.”

  Ben stared at the man. Really a nice-looking fellow, now that the light of fanaticism had faded from his eyes. Ben guessed him to be about his age. “Jethro, what would you do if I told you to go home?”

  Musseldine blinked. “Why . . . go home, I guess. I mean, you have our weapons. We’re defenseless.”

  “We’ll return the weapons to you.”

  Musseldine looked startled. “You will?”

  “Yes, I will. As long as you will swear with your hand on the Bible that you and your people will never ever again use them against us.”

  Musseldine slowly nodded his head. “All right. Yes. I will agree to that.”

  “That’s fine. Now then, are you fully convinced that I am not the Great Satan?”

  Musseldine flushed. “Ah, yes, General. I guess I, ah, got a little carried away with that.”

  “Somewhat,” Ben said, very drily.

  “But I remain adamantly opposed to abortion.”

  “That’s your right, Jethro. And you certainly have the right to speak out against it. Just don’t try to physically stop someone from seeking an abortion should they choose to get one. The other side also has rights.”

  “Yes. I understand that.”

  “I hope you do, Jethro. Look, I don’t care if you teach religion in your private schools. I’m personally opposed to private elementary and high schools . . . in many areas I don’t believe they teach reality. But I see now that if the SUSA is to survive, I’m going to have to bend a little. And I’m amenable to that. We’re all going to have to do some bending and readjusting.”

  “That’s fair,” Musseldine said.

  “You want some coffee?”

  “That would be nice, General.”

  Ben had coffee brought in. After sugaring his, Ben said, “I pose no danger to you and your people, Jethro. But we both have a real threat facing us from the west.”

  “Simon Border,” Jethro said quickly.

  “You got it.”

  “I understand that you have reached some sort of agreement with him.”

  The man might be half nuts at times, Ben thought, but he has a good intelligence network. “That’s true. If he’ll stand by his word.”

  Jethro took a sip of coffee. “That’s good. Real coffee. Well, General, I wouldn’t count on Border doing that. I don’t trust him at all. He professes to be a liberal. But I think what he wants is to be king of America.”

  Ben smiled. Just before the Great War knocked the world flat on its back, the word liberal had become one of the most hated word in the English language. Social programs and blatant political pork, pushed through Congress, had very nearly bankrupted the nation, caused taxes to soar, and in many cases had politically and bitterly divided family and friends. “Oh, I don’t trust him, Jethro. That’s just one of the reasons why you and your people will return home fully armed. I’ll be counting on your help when push finally comes to shove.”

  “In the form of Simon Border and his army?”

  “Among others, yes. But mainly Simon. We’ll clean out the gangs of punks first.”

  “You can count on us, General.”

  Ben wondered if, when Jethro and his people were needed the most, the man would once more start hearing heavenly voices? But Ben knew he didn’t have much choice in the matter. The Rebels were spread much too thin as it was, and desperately needed all the allies they could get.

  Ben opened the map case and took out a map of Arkansas. “When I leave here, I’m going to drive straight up to the Missouri line and contact this Issac Africa. I’m told he wants to talk and perhaps work something out. Maybe we can, if the deal is anywhere fair. But he’s not going to like what I have to say to him.”

  “I’ve met him, General. The man despises all whites.” He looked at Ben for a moment. “Just as you should despise me for the ambush against your people in Little Rock.”

  Ben shook his head. “I don’t work that way, Jethro. One of my closest friends and commanders is a Russian named Georgi Striganov. Georgi and I butted heads all over the U.S. for a time. Now he’s as much a part of the Rebels as I am. You and I had our battles, now it’s over and we’ll work together.”

  Ben smiled and Jethro returned the smile. “You were saying something about this Issac person?”

  “Yes. I tried to work something out with him. But I soon gave that up as hopeless. I tried to point out that all-white and all-black states have been tried several times since the Great War. They all failed. He says his won’t fail.”

  Ben nodded. “If that is
the course he chooses to take, I can assure him it will fail. I’ll place a full embargo against his state. He’ll receive no help or trade from the SUSA. I won’t be a party to wild, unreasonable hatred. And that’s what it seems Issac Africa thrives on.”

  Do you blame many of the blacks for feeling as they do?”

  “Yes, I do,” Ben replied without hesitation. “There is no place for racial hatred any more. No room for it. Racial hatred and racial divisiveness doesn’t exist in the SUSA. We won’t tolerate it. We’re all Americans here. Our society is based on common sense; that’s why so many people can’t live there. The words nigger, honky, spic, slope, kike, wop, dago, greaser, beaner, and all the other derogatory words are not used in the SUSA. Our young kids have never heard them. You know how we work, Jethro. I don’t have to explain it to you. Take your people and go home. Tend your crops and gardens and open your shops and mind your own business and keep your powder dry. You’re part of the SUSA now. We stick together.”

  Musseldine smiled. “Count on it, General. Say, sure you wouldn’t like to attend our Sunday services, Ben?”

  “I think I’ll pass, Jethro. Like the old country song goes: Me and Jesus got our own thing going.”

  Musseldine laughed, saluted, and left the CP.

  Beth walked into the room that Ben was using for an office. She held a clipboard in one hand. Ben spotted it and groaned. He knew she was going to put some bad news on him.

  “We just received a lot of reports from Scouts working outside the SUSA, boss. It’s chaos out there. All semblance of order and reason have broken down in approximately twenty states, midwest, north, east, and a couple of states in the far west. We don’t know what is happening in the far northeast. But California is a killing ground. Nearly everything we accomplished over the years—outside of the SUSA—has gone right down the toilet.”

  Ben sat down, leaned back, and smiled. “By all means, Beth, don’t spare my feelings. Give it to me straight.”

  She smiled at the easy sarcasm. “Simon Border and his Democratic Front are managing to keep the lid on in the states they control. But little brush wars have begun to spring up in what was called Missouri. Mostly black against white and so forth. Michigan is an open battleground, and so is New York State.”