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

She’d found a box and was putting a couple of small towels in it for the baby limb rat. “Hey, babe, I’m going to town with Mr. Personality out there.”

She looked up and smiled, “Alright.”

“We won’t be long.”

She held the squirrel up in front of her and in a babyish voice said, “Ok, we’re going to go find you some food.”

I grabbed my gear up and dropped the vest on over my head as I headed out the door. Sarge was waiting in the truck when I climbed in and we headed down the road. Sarge slowed as we came to the bunker where a couple of Guard guys were on duty. We had six of them here and they were all good people. They seemed to genuinely enjoy being here as opposed to the armory.

“What’s up?” I asked Chris Yates. He was a good guy to have around as he was a medic and took some of the pressure off Doc.

“Just enjoying the sunshine.”

I laughed, “You’re in the right place for it! Where’s Wallner?”

“He’s goofing off somewhere. He has the night shift later.”

I nodded. “Good deal. You guys need anything?”

Chris shook his head, “No, we’re good here.”

Sarge leaned forward and barked, “Good! Then get your ass back to work!”

I rolled my eyes and Chris smiled, replying, “Roger that, Top!”

As we rode towards town, I asked, “So what’s up? What are you thinking about doing with those commies?”

Sarge glanced over before starting into it. “What happened at the park was just the opening salvo. The commies are going to try and drive a wedge into the community. To sow distrust and fear. That way, when they decide the time is right, they’ll step in as the saviors. This is the exact same shit we did in the Middle East, Africa, Asia, just pick a place.”

I took the words in slowly. It made me think of Dad, something I hadn’t done in a long time now. He was a crew chief and door-gunner on scout helicopters in Vietnam. He’d seen his share of this sort of thing. In a time when the people of this country didn’t even pretend to support the troops or the mission that detached politicians gave them.

My mind wandered off the topic and focused on Mom and Dad. I wondered how they were doing. Dad was a tough old man and I thought, hoped, he and Mom were doing alright. I imagined them working the river for food. He loved to fish and was really good at it. Doing it for fun is one thing but doing it every day to feed yourself made it something else entirely.

My thoughts were interrupted by Sarge barking at me. “You paying attention over there?”

Rousing myself, I said, “Sorry. I was thinking about my Mom and Dad.”

He nodded and asked, “They live over on the St Johns, right?”

“Yeah. That’s where he retired to. The old man loved to fish, and it was the perfect place.”

“You should go over there and check on them.”

I nodded. “I want to. There’s just been so much going on.”

“We can make time,” he said. Then Sarge looked over and said, “It’s important, you know.”

I nodded. “It is. I’ll make the time soon. Back to the original topic. What’s the deal with the Russians?”

“It ain’t just Russians.”

“I know, I know, there’s Cubans too. Now answer my question.”

Sarge looked over at me. A half grin cut his face. “I think I can get a B1 bomber to hit them. It’ll blast them all to hell. One run and that’s it.”

I took an exaggerated look out the windshield, at the sky. “So, where’s the bomber? What’s the hold up?”

“It ain’t that simple, dipshit.”

I leaned against the door, resting my elbow on it. “Enlighten me.”

“We need to get eyes on them first. I want to make sure that all of them are actually there. At least most of them.” He smiled, “When we were at Eglin, I picked up a piece of equipment for this very thing. A laser designator. Once we have eyes on them and Bone is in the air, we can paint the target and they’ll drop some big ass smart bombs on them.”

I thought about it for a minute. I’d seen YouTube videos of this sort of thing. I had an idea of what he was talking about. “So, what are waiting on?”

“That’s why we’re on our way to see Sheffield.”

“And why am I here?”

Sarge looked over and shook his head. “I know you really just think of yourself as the Sheriff. But you are a very important part of this here. It’s more than you want, I know that. Everyone knows it. But you always step up to the plate. You’re here because I want you here.” He slowed the truck and stopped in the road. “I need your help, Morgan. It’s that simple.”

I nodded. “You saved my life once. I guess I owe you. I’ve got your back.”

The old man smiled and reached out and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “I know you do.”

We’d stopped on the road between Altoona and Umatilla. We were sitting just before the old Pizza Hut. Sitting in the road, just past it, was the bucket truck. I smiled, “Looks like Baker is running power out this way.”

Sarge nodded and put the truck in gear. “Looks that way.”

We stopped at the truck and I got out. There was a crowd of people gathered across the street from the truck. Terry was up in the bucket and Baker and Eric were on the ground. I walked over to Baker and looked up the pole. “You’re uh, moving the wrong direction, you know.” I pointed down the road towards Eustis and added, “Eustis is that way.”

She was stripped down to just a t-shirt with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was looking up at Terry as well and didn’t look away when she replied. “That job is done. Now we’re heading this way.”

I nodded and looked around. “Uh huh.