Smoke From the Ashes by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone [Johnstone, William W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Fiction, General, Contemporary, End of the world, Adventure Stories, Nuclear Warfare, Men's Adventure, War & Military, War Stories, World War III, Raines; Ben (Fictitious Character), Survivalism
ISBN: 9780786004980
Publisher: Pinnacle
Published: 1987-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

“Handsome scoundrel takes after his father in more ways than one,” Tina said, smiling. “Half a day in camp and he’s got the best-looking woman cornered.”

“Pay no attention to your sister, boy,” Ben told

him. “She exaggerates at times.”

And the family, plus one, walked off to have lunch.

Francis Freneau didn’t pull any cucumbers out of his ears, but what he did was just as bad. He sang religious songs with such a pure, sweet, fine tenor voice he damn near had Emil weeping; most of the others were blubbering and snorting with joy.

And then Emil recognized him.

“I knew it!” Emil said. “I knew I’d seen that sucker somewheres before.”

He leaned over and whispered in Brother Matthew’s ear. “I know that son of a bitch! That’s Stanley Ledbetter. He had a finance company in Chattanooga until the state put him out of business; he was runnin’ two sets of books. Then he popped up in Atlanta, selling phony stocks and bonds out of a boiler room. He just got out the state with his ass intact, the cops right on his tail. Then he got him a face lift out in California and was working the schools with a two-bit magic act. Among other things, he got busted for screwin’ the little chickies and was about to stand trial when the bombs came.”

“Hush up,” Matthew said, awe in his voice. “Ain’t his singin’ beautiful?”

Emil whacked Brother Matthew on the side of his head with his fist. “Goddammit, Matthew, listen to me!”

“Ooww!” Brother Matthew said, holding the side of his head. “Shit, Brother Emil, that hurt!”

“Then pay attention, you dumb ass! I know that guy calls himself Francis Freneau.”

“So what?”

“He’s a fraud!”

The look Emil received from Brother Matthew was not a pleasant one. “And you ain’t?”

“That’s neither here nor there you dummy! You and a few others got a pretty cushy job with me, working this scam. You think Ledbetter is gonna keep you on?”

The two of them were joined by a few more of Emil’s Enforcers.

“Ledbetter?” Brother Carl asked.

“Yeah. Stanley Ledbetter.”

Brother Matthew thought about that for a moment. He finally nodded his head in agreement. “We gotta come up with a spectacular miracle, Brother Emil. That’s the only thing that’s gonna save our asses.”

Emil’s face brightened. “You got something in mind?”

“No.”

“Wonderful,” Emil said. “I’m surrounded by yoyos.”

“We can always shoot the son of a bitch,” Brother Carl suggested.

“No, no!” Emil said. “I am opposed to violence. Unless it just absolutely has to be. It’d be so much better if I could best him at his own game.”

“How?” Brother Roger asked.

“If I knew that, you dummy, I wouldn’t be standing here listening to Stanley Ledbetter bellowing songs!”

“How come he’s got all them good-lookin’ chickies and we get stuck with the dogs?” Brother Carl asked, a wistful note in the question. His eyes were on a shapely brunette standing beside Francis Freneau, her eyes glazed over in reverence as Francis crooned.

Of course, the joint she’d just toked on might have had a little bit to do with it.

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