Next World Series | Vol. 6 | Families First [Battle Grounds] Ewing, K. (free ebooks for android .txt) 📖

good-bye to Mike. My boys each told him a story of how he had helped them. Hendrix started with what he could remember about being lost in the Texas desert and cooling off in the river before the gunfire that scared the bad men off. Hudson and Jax recounted their abduction and subsequent rescue, thanking him for bringing them back to their family. I thanked him for being a key player getting us home and saving all three of our boys.

“Come back and visit every once in a while,” I suggested.

Mike spent the next hour with his son. Not that it mattered if it had been a month or six years—they were father and son and had a bond that would never be broken. He told Javi good-bye and assured his son that he would see him again.

* * * *

I wasn’t on security this night but knew I would be soon. Exhausted, I normally would have fallen to sleep easily, but Jake was in my head. From the very beginning, my friend from that first day in my Chiropractic office ended up saving my life while sacrificing his. He didn’t have less to lose than me; he just did it without thinking. I vowed to get his Nancy and Danny home to their family.

I tasked Steve with getting hold of my old friend, David, on Raton Pass the following morning.

After nearly two hours I was on the line, hearing of bear attacks and getting the story about the Mayor’s race in code. By the end, I understood the Sheriff’s girlfriend killed him, and she was working with the town Judge again. The same one that had been arrested earlier and banished from town, never to return!

“I had a call late last night,” he told me…“from a friend of yours.”

“Who?” I asked, racking my brain.

“The Colonel. Your guy, the Colonel!” he added.

“What did he have to say?” I asked, still not understanding the point.

“Well, he is appointing certain people across the country for various high-level positions, rebuilding the new country.”

“New country?” I asked. “What about the United States of America?”

“It’s still here, my brother, just a little smaller. I hear a few states have opted out, but I don’t know which ones or why, before you ask.”

“Okay,” I agreed, not asking more questions on that subject specifically.

“What does he want with you?” I asked.

“He wants a Southern Colorado base that wants freedom from tyranny and is willing to fight for it. He wants the town of Weston specifically, and we are recently a part of that town, officially speaking.”

“I still don’t get it,” I told him. “Why not start with a big city like Pueblo, or even Trinidad? I mean…Weston…seriously?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” replied David, “but he wants to start small and draw the larger towns, and even cities, in with solid governing and pro-country ideals.”

“No offense, but I think he may have the wrong town,” I told him, “with the recent events.”

“He knows the whole story, just as I told you, and he is ready to make a change soon—with a few people you have met—is all I will say for now.”

“How soon?” I asked.

“Two days, a couple of weeks, maybe three; it’s hard to tell,” he replied.

“So, who runs the show there?” I asked. “You?”

“Not exactly, my friend. You met the current Mayor, who will play a bigger role, and I’m somewhere in the mix, I hear.”

“I thought you wanted to lay low, live a free life,” I replied.

“I do, and so do you, if I remember correctly. But if we quit now, we will have our precious free lives taken from us one year at a time, until we work for them.”

“For who?” I asked, wanting to know if he heard the same.

“The Chinese, I’m afraid.”

“Yep, that’s what I heard too,” I replied.

“I love my family, old and new…you know that,” said David, “but I need to fight for them if they are to have any chance in this Next-World. Temporary freedom is no freedom at all, really. I wish it would just all stay the way it was, but it can’t. We didn’t think the first scrape with Baker’s guys would be the end of bad guys. They are one group of dozens, most likely. I would rather fight now for lasting change, ensuring a future for our children, than live in fear and hiding, waiting for the ball to drop.”

“Yes, me too,” I agreed. “Okay, okay. What can I do to help?”

“Nothing, Lance. Nothing here, but there you can be a part of the resistance—the Northern Colorado Chapter is what I think they are calling you. There are scores of us across the country being formed as we speak. Four in each state, we’re told—on the north, south, east and west borders.

“We are not fighting alone but have the backing of the real United States Military. Eventually, FEMA camps will be moved to the Chapter locations to work the land. As I understand it, they can’t stay in camps forever, eating up all the food and using resources without replenishing them. I think they thought we would have ships coming every day from our allies abroad, delivering food and supplies to FEMA camps for years, if needed.”

“So, our allies are not on board anymore?” I asked.

“No, they are, but the ships are being detained, and in some cases disabled, in open water.”

“Like pirates, right?” I asked.

“Kind of, but more like pirates with the backing of major countries—think China, Russia, the Saudis.”

“I heard China was going to drop 10,000 families a day to farm our land,” I said, figuring specifics over the radio were out the window now, and neither of us would be privileged to classified information.

“They were/are still planning to, but those ships got