Conflicted Home (The Survivalist Book 9) Page 4

  Terry was standing at the rear of the bucket truck, acting as Scott’s ground man. “They need to hurry or the people in town will get it before they can.”

  “What the hell are they stealing it for?” Aric asked. “It’s for them!”

  “It’s the whole bird-in-the-hand argument.”

  I shook my head. “Everyone is just out for themselves. I imagine it’s even worse now since they all saw that mushroom cloud. I’m sure panic is probably pretty high.”

  Terry snorted. “Some people have gone bat-shit crazy.”

  “You guys need anything from me?” I asked.

  “No,” Baker replied.

  I waved Jess on and we headed towards the farm. Since I wasn’t driving, it gave me time to really take in the scenery. I’d driven this road many times since the Day, but it was like I was seeing it for the first time. As though I’d been away for a long time and just now returned.

  Grass was now growing quite far out into the road. The roadsides were a tangled mass of vegetation. Some of it so tall it was falling over on itself. You couldn’t see far off either side of the road because of the tall weeds and even small trees that were now crowding the roadside.

  I tapped Jess on the shoulder and pointed to a church that had been under construction before things changed. Jess pulled onto what was once the dirt driveway, but now was nearly indistinguishable from the rest of the field surrounding the construction site. All manner of building supplies was still stacked as though it were waiting for the crews to return to work. But it didn’t look new now.

  Time had taken its toll on the materials. Rust and dust covered every surface. Vines creeped their way up from the ground and were taking over pallets that were now unrecognizable. But I could see what I was looking for and pointed it out to Jess, and she weaved in and around the piles and stopped.

  “That’s a lot of copper,” Aric said, looking at the long stack of copper roofing intended for the church.

  Climbing out, I said, “Sure is. And it’ll make a great still.”

  Fred and Aric got out and walked over to the stack. “What are you making a still for?” Fred asked.

  “We can use it for a number of things. But right now, I’m going to use it to make vinegar.”

  “That’s why you got those grapes from Gena,” Aric said.

  I nodded. “And the honey from Mario. I’m going to give it a shot.”

  “Are we going to take this now?” Aric asked looking at the war wagon. He was clearly wondering how in the hell we would load a twenty-foot-long three-foot-wide sheet.

  “No. I’ll come back with some tin snips and cut it up so we can get it out of here.”

  “I want to go inside and look around,” Jess said.

  “Go ahead. I’m going to hang out here,” I replied.

  Fred chased after her, saying, “I’ll come with you!”

  The girls ran off and Aric and I climbed up on top of the stack of copper. While he sat dangling his feet, I stood up and looked around. It was a bit of a vantage point over the tall weeds and I could see all the across the field behind the church. To the west ran the train tracks that used to serve the orange juice plant. I was shocked to see the field full of corn.

  “Holy shit. Who planted that?” I asked as I looked across it.

  Aric stood up. “Wow. That’s a shitload of corn. It’s funny how early on no one wanted to work in the fields. Now look at it.” He sat back down.

  I sat down beside him. “From the sounds of it, there’s plenty of people wanting to get into the field now.”

  “Yeah, so they can grab as much as they can carry and take it home.” Aric shook his head in irritation. “Why can’t they just wait? The food is for them. All they have to do is wait for it to be harvested and they’ll all get some.”

  “Hunger is a powerful motivator. Especially if you have kids,” I leaned in and bumped him, “as you’re about to find out.”

  He nodded. “I’m worried about that. What are we going to feed the baby?”

  “I think Fred has the necessary equipment for the first year,” I replied with a smile.

  “I know that. I mean later. When he’s ready to eat real food. What are we going to feed him?”

  With mock surprise, I asked, “So it’s a son, then? And you know this how?”

  He looked at me, “Of course it’s a boy!”

  Laughing, I said, “Well, we can always use another strong back. Don’t worry about the food. Baby food in little glass jars is a relatively new thing. Not to mention, most of the children the world over have never seen it.”

  “I guess you’re right,” he replied as we heard the girls making their way back to us. “I just want the best for him.”

  I patted his leg, “Of course you do, dad. And you’re not alone. You’ll have plenty of help.”

  The farm was a flurry of activity. Cecil looked like a mad conductor leading the strangest orchestra ever seen. A number of tractors had been pressed into service. Both conventional large tractors and even smaller yard versions. Wagons and carts of all sorts and sizes were being pulled behind them as the vast amounts of vegetables were being picked.

  We parked by the camp for the security personnel and walked out into the field. I found Cecil standing at what had become a main road, directing tractors and even people who were pulling hand carts.

  “Looks like you got your hands full, ole buddy,” I said by way of greeting.

  He turned and smiled the toothy smile of an old man. “It’s getting a little sporty!” He reached out and shook my hand. “Good to see you up and about. It’s good for the people to see you up too.”

  “I appreciate it. But I don’t think they much care either way.”

  “Not so,” he replied and nodded with his head towards the field where a couple of people stood looking in our direction. “There was a lot of talk here about what happened to you and whether you’d make it or not.”

  I laughed. “What were the odds?”

  Shaking his head, he replied, “Six to one in the beginning.”

  “And which side did you take?”

  With a grin, he replied, “I took the long. I knew you’d be back.”

  I gripped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’m glad I didn’t let you down.” Looking out at the hustle and bustle going on, I asked, “I see a lot more security folks. I heard there was a little pilfering going on.”

  He nodded. “There was, but we got a handle on it. It’s just hungry folks. Shane took the ones we caught and turned them over to Mitch. He did the same thing you’ve done in the past. He made them stand in the market with a sign around their necks that read, I stole food from you. It had the desired effect.”

  “It’s difficult to deal with hungry people stealing food. Being harsh would just cause problems. Hey, what’s with that field of corn over off nineteen?”

  He smiled a sly smile. “You found that, huh?” I nodded. “I planted that myself. I found an old planter and hooked it to my tractor. I didn’t tell anyone about it. But there is a squad over there watching it.”

  “What kind of corn it is?”

  “I had two fifty-pound sacks of feed corn. It ain’t fit to eat like regular corn, but we went over to Renniger’s and managed to come up with a couple of grist wheels. My plan is to grind it all into meal.”

  “Good idea. But I’d like some whole corn. I have an idea.”

  Cecil cut me a conspiratorial grin, “You going into the shine business?”

  I nodded. “Purely medicinal of course.”

  “Of course,” he replied with a smile. Then, changing the subject, he asked, “You heard anything more on what happened over Tampa way?”

  “No. Nothing yet. You?”

  Cecil shook his head. “Shef
field isn’t saying anything. Actually, haven’t seen much of him. I think it rattled him.”

  “Hell, it rattled all of us. But there isn’t shit we can do about it. I wasn’t going to go to town, but maybe I should take a ride down there.”

  “It’d be a good idea, I think.”

  I thought about it for a minute. “Looking at him, I asked, “So, you digging a bunker yet?”

  Cecil laughed. “No. But there’s plenty of it going on. A lot of folks are scared shitless.”

  “Plenty of that going around at the moment.” I pointed at the field. “Good luck riding herd on this chaos.”

  With a big smile, Cecil replied, “This is the fun part!”

  I waved and walked back to the war wagon. As I approached, I could see Aric set a basket in the back. “What’s this?” I asked, looking in.

  “They told us to take this. Wanted us to take more but I said no.” He shrugged, “You know, with Thad’s garden and all, I didn’t think we needed it.”

  “Good call,” I said as I climbed in. Looking at Jess, I said, “Let’s go to town.”

  I laughed to myself when we passed through the barricade at the edge of town. Sheffield’s paranoia shown through here. More cars were added to the defenses as well as two of the captured MRAPs. There were also several men manning the position. With one notable change. All of them were wearing gas mask carriers strapped to their legs.

  “This looks different,” Jess commented as we pulled through.

  “Yeah. I think that blast rattled ole Sheffield.”

  As we headed towards the armory, she glanced sideways at me. “What do you think is going to happen?”

  I shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter. There isn’t much we can do about whatever may happen. We’re just along for the ride. We’ll just deal with it as it happens.”

  She laughed. “So, like usual then.”

  “Like normal.”

  At the armory, I found Sheffield in his office. He and Livingston were standing in front of a large wall map.

  “Well, how goes the war?” I asked as I walked in.

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Livingston replied.

  “You guys really think those things are going to help?” I asked, pointing at the gas mask strapped to his thigh.

  Sheffield looked down at the one he wore. “They can’t hurt. If we think there’s fallout, we can at least put them on.”

  “And then what? You won’t be able to eat anything. Drink anything. You don’t have a fallout shelter.”

  “What’s happened to you?” Sheffield asked. “This doesn’t sound like the Morgan I know. The guy that works his way through everything. No problem too big.”

  “I’m just saying, it’s a waste of effort. Besides, I don’t think we’ll be seeing any here. I hope, anyway. Do you guys even have measuring equipment?” Livingston looked at Sheffield and he shook his head. “Then how do you propose to know when to wrap that thing around your head? The frickin government did away with Civil Defense and screwed us all. If that were still around, then we’d have the equipment to sample the air. But we don’t and there isn’t shit we can do about it now.”

  Livingston glanced down at the bag strapped to his leg. “I guess it is a little silly.”

  “All I’m getting at,” I replied, “is we have plenty to worry about that we can do something about.” The two men looked at one another then at me. “I heard there are pickets out on 441. Have they seen anything yet?”

  “Fortunately, no,” Sheffield replied.

  “Good. That’s good.”

  “We’ve made contact with command again. It’s been moved to Eglin,” Sheffield said. “They said it was only one missile and was in response to the sinking of the majority of a Chinese fleet off the coast of California.”

  “If that’s the case, why Tampa?”

  “MacDill,” Livingston replied. I gave him a no-shit look.

  “CENTCOM and SOCOM were there,” Sheffield replied.

  “Were, is right.”

  He shook his head. “Were, as in they were dispersed. Yes, losing the base was bad. But not nearly to the level it could have been. There wasn’t much left there by the time they nuked it.”

  “So, it was the civilians that paid the price then.” I shook my head. “That’s the way these things usually work out. You survive all the shit going on and a damn rocket falls out of the sky and incinerates you in a fraction of second.”

  “If you’re lucky,” Livingston replied. “From what we hear, there are still a lot of wounded. The Red Cross is actually just outside the exclusion zone trying to help.”

  That surprised me. “No shit? The government is actually doing something now?”

  “Not the government,” Livingston said as he looked at Sheffield, who nodded and said, “Go ahead and tell him.”

  “Tell me what?” I asked.

  Livingston took a deep breath and started. “This sounds worse than it is. There’s been a military coup. The President has been useless from the beginning. They’ve done nothing to help people.”

  “Not to mention inviting foreign invaders into the country,” Sheffield added.

  Livingston nodded, “That too. So, the military decided it was time for them to intervene. We are now officially under the control of the military. They’ve quickly organized some NGOs, you know, non-governmental organizations to help.”

  “I know what NGOs are. Personally, I don’t see it as a bad thing. Someone needs to take control of this shit sandwich. And who better than those used to working in chaos such as this. How long ago did it happen?”

  “A couple weeks ago,” Sheffield answered. “It’s not like it was a big deal. There wasn’t any shooting or anything. We’ve got troops stationed outside the bunker that useless piece of shit is hiding in.”

  Livingston smiled. “Not for much longer though.” Sheffield gave him a look and he said, “What? How’s telling him going to change anything?”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “The President doesn’t know it, but we’re in talks with his protection detail to bring him out,” Sheffield said.

  “Doesn’t really matter,” I shrugged. “I don’t care what happens to him. Won’t change anything for us. But, why haven’t you guys said something?”

  “It’s been classified,” Livingston replied.

  I laughed out loud and turned in a circle holding my arms out, “Who the hell are we going to tell around here?”

  “We’re still the Army. It’s just the way it works,” Sheffield said.

  I laughed again. “Whatever works for you guys.” Curious, I asked, “Does the old man know?” Sheffield shook his head. That made me laugh again. “Oh, he’s going to be pissed!”

  “It was need to know.”

  “And you don’t think we needed to know? You don’t think he’s got contacts as well? You’ve seen that stack of radio equipment he’s got.”

  “It doesn’t matter now who knows. It’s a done deal.”

  I nodded and dropped into a chair. “Ok, so what’s the plan?”

  “We’re still working on it. There’s a bunch of Chinese troops running around on the gulf coast and we’ve got a rather significant contingent of Russians and Cubans moving up from the south,” Sheffield said.

  “Have you seen others since the incident over near Apopka?”

  “We’ve heard some radio traffic from south of Orlando about seeing some armor running around. But we don’t know what they saw.”

  “For now,” Livingston added, “we’re just keeping a careful eye out for them.”

  “Do you guys have the weapons to deal with armor?”

  “Not much,” Sheffield answered.

  “That’s
concerning. What are the odds of getting some?”

  “We’re trying,” said Livingston.

  I had a feeling what their odds were. I wanted to talk to the old man. “Alright guys. I’m going to leave you boys to it.”

  “Alright,” Livingston replied. “Glad to see you back on your feet.”

  I paused at the door and nodded, replying, “Thanks,” before heading out.

  I rounded everyone up and got them back to the war wagon. “I’m driving,” I told Jess as I climbed into the driver’s seat. An exaggerated pout formed on her face as she got in the passenger seat.

  “Any news?” Aric asked.

  As I wheeled out of the armory, I replied, “There’s been a coup. The military is in charge now.”

  Chapter 2

  The old man was stewing. He was sitting in a rocking chair on Danny’s front porch, rocking slowly and staring at an indeterminate point in the yard. I was watching him closely, waiting for his response. It was kind of funny that I actually saw it first.

  When Linus Mitchell gets mad, really mad, if you’re paying attention, you’ll see it. A crimson line would slowly rise out of his collar and creep up and envelope his ears. Then those two furry caterpillars would start inching towards one another. Usually, when they met, the valve would pop. He glanced into the coffee cup sitting on the armrest of the chair; it was empty. Pop.

  He jumped to his feet shouting. “Those rotten, gutless, spineless, panty-waisted, snot-nosed, fucking fucktards! Who the hell do they think they are to keep this kind of information from me? Need to know! Security? Bullshit!” He bellowed. “I got my top-secret clearance when those two twats were still shitting yellow and sucking on their momma’s tit! I’m going to wring their fucking necks like the chicken shits they are!”

  Inwardly, I was smiling. “What’s it matter?” I asked.

  He paused and looked at me as though I’d just proclaimed myself king of Egypt. “What the hell do you mean, what’s it matter?” He practically spat the last part.