Home Coming (The Survivalist Book 10) A. American (read after .txt) 📖

looked in the direction of the shot. “Looks like the others have already figured this out.”

“I’ve already talked to them all. No one likes it, Morgan,” Sarge said. “But it’s the reality of it. It’s what we’re going to have to do.”

I nodded and looked down at the woman lying on the street. “I’m sorry,” I said as I drew my pistol and lowered it. Her life ended with the report of the Springfield. I felt ill and relieved at the same time. Sick at the thought of having to shoot her lying in the street, relieved at knowing she wasn’t suffering any longer. She was the first, but sadly there would be many after her. It was a very, very long night.

When the sun started to break the horizon, I was standing in the front yard of a house on East Ward Street changing magazines in my pistol. I dropped the empty mag into the dump pouch where it clanged against the other two already there. We’d cleared the area of the business district earlier in the night and had moved into the surrounding residential areas.

The ranks of rescuers swelled overnight as people pulled themselves out of their shocked state and came out to help. So, I wasn’t surprised when a man walked towards me from the street. It took me a minute to recognize him.

“Hi, Morgan,” Alex the Canadian traveler I’d found at the Publix, said.

“Oh, hey, Alex.”

He looked at the pistol I was holding and said, “Hell of a night, huh?”

I nodded, “Yeah. And it ain’t over yet.”

“I see that. Are you still moving the wounded to the park?”

As I holstered the pistol, I replied, “The ones we think we can help.”

He nodded, understanding just what I meant. “Where you headed now?”

I was tired and thirsty. “I’m going to head back towards the armory. We couldn’t go through it last night because it was still burning. And I need a drink of water.”

“Care if I walk with you?”

“You’re welcome to join me,” I replied as I stepped out onto the road. We walked in silence for a bit, then I asked, “Where were you last night?”

“I found a house on the side of the lake no one was living in. It’s a really nice place, right on the water, and I’ve been trying to fix it up to make life a little easier under the current conditions.”

I smiled, genuinely happy. “That’s great. Glad you found a place.”

He stretched out a leg and pulled up on the jeans he wore. “There were even some clothes there that fit me.”

“Sounds like things are looking up for you.”

He gave a nervous laugh. “They kind of were.”

The rest of our group was at the armory when we got there. They were already picking through the still-smoking remains of the buildings. A line of charred corpses was laid out in the street, many of which didn’t even look like people. Just black stumps. Then there was the smell. Seeing Perez, I went over to him.

“Give me a couple of your smokes,” I said, holding my hand out.

He was leaned over raking through a smoldering pile with an E-tool. “You picked a bad time to start,” he replied as he stood up. Shaking two out of the pack, he handed them to me.

I broke the filters off and handed the rest back to him. “I’m not,” I said as I stuck the filters into my nostrils. “Just need something to help with the fucking smell.”

Perez nodded and looked around. “Yeah. You’ll get used to it.”

“I hope not. Thanks for these,” I said as I walked off.

Perez lit up one of the filter-less fags and replied, “Not a problem.” And he went back to work picking through the debris.

I found Cecil and the old man standing over several bodies laid out near the rear of what was left of the building. Walking up, I looked down and asked, “Is this Sheffield?” I knew there was no chance in hell he was still alive.

Doc nodded as he wiped a singed dog tag off with a rag and handed it to me along with another. They were Livingston and Sheffield’s tags. I looked down at the two blackened and shrunken forms lying on the ground. It was hard to imagine it was the two men I had known so well. They certainly didn’t look like themselves now. Moments like this hit really hard.

“We don’t have an accurate count of how many were here,” Sarge said. “But so far, we’ve found eighteen bodies. There are some at the barricade and a couple out on pickets who were lucky to avoid this massacre. I don’t know how many more we’ll find alive.”

“Plus, the guys we have back at the ranch,” I said.

“At least we saved them,” Sarge replied.

“Cecil, did your house make it?” I asked.

“Just some broken windows. Nothing serious.”

I nodded, “Good.”

“Anyone have a count on the dead?” Cecil asked.

“It has to be over a hundred,” Sarge replied.

“Way over,” I added.

“We got a week’s buryin’ ahead of us,” Cecil replied.

“We’re going to have to do mass graves. I hate to say it, but it’s the only way,” Doc replied. “And we’re going to have to do it soon. Like, we should start today.”

As we were talking, Mitch and Michelle walked up. “Wow, am I ever glad to see you two are alright,” I said.

“We were at home and we hid in the bunker,” Michelle replied.

“This is unbelievable,” Mitch said. “We saw so many bodies on our way here.”

Sarge nodded. “There’s a bunch. We’re going to have to get started burying them soon. We were just talking about it.”

“Where are the wounded?” Michelle asked.

“They’re at the park. I was about to head that way,” Doc replied.

“Come on,” Sarge said, “We’ll all walk over there.”

As we made our way towards the park, I stopped at the MRAP for a drink. My canteen had run out hours ago and I was dry. I replenished it from a water keg we kept