Resurrecting Home Read online

  Doc checked her ears and eyes, trying to raise the lid of the left eye to check her pupils. While it looked bad, Doc pronounced that she wasn’t in any immediate danger.

  “You’ll be sore and sport some trophies for a couple of weeks, but you’ll be all right. Just take it slow for a while. I’ll talk to the captain and tell him to go easy on you.” Jamie gave him a smile of thanks. She wasn’t one to lie around and not pull her weight, but she knew she needed a little time to recover.

  Mike and Ted walked in. Ted gripped her shoulder. “How you doing, kid?” She simply nodded in response.

  Mike stepped up beside her and made a show of looking her over. “You know, I think you’re a little young for plastic surgery.”

  Jamie swatted him with the back of her hand.

  “Get some rest. We’ll watch out for you,” Mike said, giving her hand a squeeze. To his surprise she squeezed back, holding it just a moment longer.

  Ted’s radio crackled and Sarge’s voice filled the air. “Teddy, you and Mike meet me over at the command bunker.”

  “Roger that,” he replied, then looked at Mike. “Let’s go.”

  Mike looked at Jamie. “I’ll check on you later.”

  Mike and Ted walked out to the Hummer, they got in, and before Ted started it up he looked at Mike. Mike looked over. “What?”

  “You finally making a little headway with her?”

  Mike rolled his eyes. “Shut up and drive.”

  As Ted pressed the starter he smiled and began to sing, “Jamie and Mike sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

  Mike looked at him. “What are you, four?” Ted let out an uproarious laugh and floored the truck, tossing a spray of sand into the air.

  At the command bunker they got out and found Sarge. “What’s up, boss?”

  Sarge pointed at Sheffield. “Captain here’s about to make an announcement that some of these folks aren’t going to like. I want you to go to the armory and get out some of the less-lethal goodies in case they get out of hand.”

  Ted nodded as he and Mike started walking toward the bunker that contained all the things that go bang. A Guardsman was standing watch in front of it. He smiled and nodded as they approached. “You guys my relief?”

  “Sorry, man, we’re not. We just need some stuff.”

  “Damn,” he replied as he opened the padlock on the door.

  Inside the two guys hung tear-gas grenades on their body armor and filled their pockets with more. Mike grabbed a shotgun from a ready rack and looked around for the less-lethal shells. Finding them he loaded the Remington 870 and opened the dump pouch on his belt and emptied several boxes of shells into it. Ted took another shotgun and did the same.

  “See anything else we need?” Ted asked.

  “Nah, I think this will do it,” Mike replied.

  As they emerged from the bunker the guard asked, “What’s with that stuff? What’s going on?”

  “They’re about to make an announcement, telling the folks here they ain’t got to go home but they can’t stay here anymore,” Mike said.

  “No shit. I was just told but didn’t believe it. Guess it’s legit.”

  “Looks like it. Keep an eye on this place. Some of them might get some bright ideas. I’ll have another one or two sent over here to back you up,” Ted replied.

  “Great. And tell them to bring some water too. I’m dyin’ out here.”

  Ted nodded and he and Mike headed back to the command bunker. As they walked, the PA system in the camp announced itself with a high-pitched squeal. Livingston’s voice quickly followed, telling the refugees in the camp to assemble for an address from the camp commander.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” a man asked Ted.

  “I don’t know. Guess we’ll all find out,” Ted replied.

  “Hey, when’s lunch going to be served today? There wasn’t any breakfast,” a woman said.

  “Don’t know about that one either.”

  “This is bullshit,” a third added. Mike and Ted shrugged in response.

  Once out of earshot, Mike said, “Oh boy, this is going to be interesting.”

  “Ya think?”

  Back at the command bunker, Ted approached Sheffield. “Hey, Cap, there’s only one guard on the armory. It might be a good idea to send a couple more over there in case these folks get any ideas.”

  Sheffield told Ian to take care of it. Ian nodded and walked off to find a couple of volunteers.

  “Looks like they’re gathering up, Captain. You ready?” Sarge asked.

  Sheffield nodded, a hint of nervousness on his face.

  “Just tell them like it is, remember that. You’ve got orders to close the camp. They’ve got to start taking care of themselves like the rest of the country is. It is what it is.”

  Sheffield stood up straighter, like he got a shot of confidence. “Exactly. They’re not the only ones. We’re all refugees now.”

  “Times, they are a-changin’.”

  Sheffield let out a long breath and headed out to face the assembled crowd. Mike and Ted took up positions flanking the captain on either side. Livingston handed Sheffield a mic as the crowd continued to build. Scanning the crowd as the last of the civilians trickled in, Sheffield began.

  “Thank you for giving me your time. As I hope most of you know, I am Captain Sheffield of the Florida National Guard. I am truly troubled by what I am about to tell you.” He paused for a moment to gauge the crowd, noting the sideways whispers and furtive glances to one another. “We are no longer in a position to provide for you. We have been ordered by the upper levels of our command to close the camp. We are currently inventorying the supplies of the camp and will provide you as much as we can.”

  Suddenly the nervous crowd became animated, seemingly vibrating with action as people moved about, talking to one another. From the crowd a man’s voice shouted the question, “What does that mean to us?”

  Sheffield took a deep breath. “It means you’re going to have to leave.”

  The crowd erupted in shouts and cries. The reaction of the adults scared several of the children in the assembly and soon they were crying, adding to the commotion.

  “I know this is a scary thing. Believe me, we understand. But there is not enough food here and there simply isn’t anything we can scavenge from the surrounding area. If you stay here, you’ll simply starve.”

  A man burst forth from the crowd and raised an accusatory finger at Sheffield. “Why did you do this? Why are you here if you can’t take care of us? At least the DHS fed us!” There were shouts of agreement from the crowd, as well as accusations.

  “You just want to keep the food for yourselves!” a woman shouted from the crowd.

  “You said you were here to protect us! What are we supposed to do?” a woman cried out, her voice cracking.

  “We didn’t ask for you to save us!” a man shouted in a sneer. “Now you’re going to kill us all!”

  In an attempt to keep things from getting worse, Sheffield offered them support. “Look, we’re not going to just send you down the road. We’ll provide you with equipment, what food we can, and some weapons so you can defend yourselves.”

  For some in the crowd, hearing weapons got their attention. “Weapons, what sort of weapons?” a man called out.

  “We have a collection of confiscated weapons that we’ll hand out, with as much ammo as there is for them,” Sheffield replied.

  “Hell, if you’ll give me a gun, I’ll leave now!”

  “I say we just stay here. They can’t make us leave!” another shouted.

  “Screw that, let’s just take what we want and get out of here!” a man shouted.

  “This isn’t going to deteriorate into a riot. You’re not going to loot this camp. We will organize the distribution of supplies, and weapons will be distributed at the gate on your way out. Anyone who tries to take anything will be dealt with accordingly. The fact is we can no longer stay here. The camp is closing. My people are pulling out as wel
l,” Sheffield announced.

  “If you’re leaving, then why can’t we stay? Take your shit and go, we’ll stay here!” a burly man shouted, then added, “Who’s with me?”

  The crowd erupted in shouts and applause. Sheffield looked at Sarge questioningly, and Sarge simply shrugged his shoulders.

  Turning back to the crowd, Sheffield asked, “How do you intend to provide for yourselves? We have brought in water, and the food supply here will last two weeks, tops. How will you survive out here?”

  “Don’t worry about us, just get out! Leave us the tents and other equipment you offered and let us sort it out,” the man shouted back.

  Sheffield turned to Livingston, putting his hand over the mic. “What do you think?”

  He shrugged. “We need to organize some things for those who want to go, but as for the rest . . . it’s their death wish.”

  Sheffield turned back to the crowd. “I’ll consult with my staff about you staying here. If we agree to it, we’ll leave you as much as we can in the way of supplies, but you’ve got to understand there isn’t anything around here for you in terms of food.”

  “Let us worry about that,” the man at the front of the crowd replied, venom in his voice.

  Sheffield motioned for the man to step forward. Pulling him off to the side, he said, “I’ll work with you on this transition. Get whoever wants to stay together and decide who’s in charge. I’ll deal with one or two of you, but I’m not going to have hundreds of people shouting demands at me.” The man nodded his approval. “But that means I will also hold whoever is selected accountable for the actions of the people here.” The man nodded again, and Sheffield stuck out his hand. “What’s your name?”

  “Neil Baker,” the man said as he shook Sheffield’s hand.

  “All right, Neil, I’ll get with you later today. Where do you live?”

  “Tent thirty-seven. Ask anyone around and they’ll know where to find me.”

  Sheffield nodded. “I’ll find you later to discuss the transition.”

  Neil nodded and walked back to the crowd, which parted as if he were Moses and they were the sea. Sarge walked up beside Sheffield. “You better keep an eye on that one, Captain.”

  Without looking over, Sheffield replied, “I told him whoever they select to represent their interests is accountable for the actions of the people here in the camp until we leave.”

  “I’ve got a feeling this isn’t going to be as easy as you think.”

  Sheffield looked over. “What else can I do? If they want to stay, who am I to make them leave?” He paused and looked at the departing crowd. “They just don’t understand what they’re getting into.”

  “Some lessons have to be learned the hard way.”

  Livingston snorted. “They’re about to get a hell of an education.”

  “Amen, LT. Now let’s get a patrol headed toward the armory. I need to get more details about its condition ASAP.”

  Chapter 5

  Tyler and I made the trip back to the house as fast as we could, practically jogging. As was now the custom, everyone was at Danny’s place as it was getting on to suppertime. I told them about meeting Gena and Dylan, and the trade I was about to make. Danny in particular was impressed. “Mead? Why you holdin’ out on us, brother?”

  “I just got it, can’t a man have a drink? Sheesh.”

  We passed the bottles of mead around. It was a big hit—everyone was commenting on the unique flavors.

  “Can I try some, Dad?” Taylor asked.

  Mel swatted at her. “Just because there’s no laws here right now, doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be drinking in my household.”

  Jess was taking a sip from one of the bottles. Mary was watching her closely. Lowering the bottle, Jess wiped a small trickle running down her chin. She held the bottle out. “Want some?”

  Mary smiled. “You know I don’t drink.”

  Fred grabbed the bottle and took a long tug and stuck it in Mary’s lap. “Girl, right now you could use a drink, trust me.”

  Mary looked at the bottle for a moment before taking a timid sip. As she did, Fred reached over and lifted the bottom of the bottle. Mary’s eyes grew wide as the honey-flavored liquor flowed into her mouth. Fred and Jess started to laugh as Mary’s cheeks were swollen, like a chipmunk hoarding nuts. After a couple of swallows she held the bottle out and looked at it. “That’s really good!” she finally said and turned it up to take another. When she lowered the bottle, Fred took it from her.

  “Careful, it’ll sneak up on you,” she said, then took another drink herself and passed it Jeff.

  Jeff smiled. “Let me show you how to do this.” He turned the bottle up like a professional drinker.

  Thad rolled his eyes and grabbed the bottle, wrenching it from Jeff’s hand, spilling a little down his shirt. “You ain’t the only one needs a drink around here,” he said with a smile before taking a drink himself.

  As I filled a baggie with kudzu flour, I talked about the beautiful greenhouse that Gena kept with all the fruits and veggies growing in it. Thad was really interested in the greenhouse and said he wanted to go back with me. Brandy volunteered to cook in his place, and Mel and Bobbie jumped in to offer assistance as well.

  Mary raised a hand. “I’d like to help too.”

  Mel smiled. “The more the merrier, come on.” The ladies disappeared into the kitchen.

  As I moved around the kitchen, gathering what we needed to trade, I asked Aric how he was feeling.

  “Useless,” he replied.

  “How’s the shoulder?”

  “It’s all right, I just feel like a mooch not doing anything,” Aric replied, staring at the floor.

  “Don’t sweat it, man. You’re still healing. There’ll be plenty for you to do when you’re back up to speed,” Danny said. I nodded, and patted him on the back. “You’ll be back in fighting shape in no time.”

  As the women sorted out dinner, I knew it was time to make our exit.

  “You ready, Thad?”

  “Yeah, I got the liver. Did you get the salt?”

  “I did. And, hey, do me a favor and grab them some of the mullet too.”

  Thad took a plastic shopping bag and put a few handfuls of the smoked fish in it. Once that was done, we went and climbed on the ATVs to make the trip as fast as possible. Gena and Dylan were still sitting on the front porch when we returned. I introduced Thad to the couple.

  “Good to meet you,” Dylan said.

  “An’ you an’ the missus too,” Thad replied.

  “Morgan, we were talking while you were gone. A few weeks ago, we heard a lot of shooting, out that way,” she said, pointing her arm toward the direction of our neighborhood. “Was that you guys?” Gena asked.

  “’Bout a month and a half ago? Yep, that was probably us,” I replied.

  “Well, glad to see you guys made it through,” Dylan said.

  “We were getting visits from some local goons the DHS were using. When we fended them off, the Feds decided we weren’t getting the hint and paid us a visit personally.”

  “How have you guys managed to stay hidden so long?” Thad asked.

  “Oh, we haven’t been totally hidden. We’ve had our share of visitors,” Gena answered.

  “What’d you do when they arrived?” I asked.

  “Oh, I’ve got the answer for most folks. Got this big-ass sword in the house. It’s a cheap piece of junk but looks badass,” Dylan said.

  “You scared them off with a sword?” Thad asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Yeah, if he was running at you naked with a big-ass sword, wouldn’t you run?” Gena asked, trying not to laugh.

  I thought about it for a minute, then a smile started to spread across my face. “Yeah, guess I would.”

  “People are scared of two things: crazy people and naked people. Add them together and it scares the shit out of folks. Plus, if they think you’re nuts, they think you ain’t got nothing,” Dylan said. Thad and I both busted out l
aughing.

  “I guess so,” I replied, “but how did you avoid the Feds?”

  “Oh, they sent one of their mailmen around once,” Dylan said with a grin.

  “What happened?” Thad asked.

  “Batman buried him under the compost pile. He tried to tell us we had to move and that we were going to be taken to different places. Batman told him that wasn’t going to happen and he told us, with some colorful language, that we would go where we were told. That didn’t sit well with Batman,” Gena answered.

  “Sit well? Pissed me right off. I got the feeling that if he made it back to wherever he was going we’d have trouble. He didn’t make it back to wherever,” Dylan said.

  Gena asked me, “Did you guys ever run into any, wanting you to register or some such thing?”

  “Nope, and guessin’ on the outcome, he came here first.” My answer got a laugh out of Dylan and Gena.

  “What about you, Thad? You ever see one?” Dylan asked.

  “Yeah, I encountered one. Fed him to the hogs.”

  Dylan smiled. “Hogs gotta eat too.”

  “That they do. And speaking of food, we brought you some smoked mullet too,” Thad said, holding the bag. It was clear he wanted to change the subject, not wanting to further discuss the painful memories of that day.

  “Oh, that’s great! I’ll make a dip out of it,” Gena said as she took the bag.

  I held up the flour. “Brought you some kudzu flour too. You can use it to dust the liver before you cook it, or to thicken stews, that sort of thing.”

  Dylan took the bag. “Did you say kudzu flour?” he asked looking suspiciously into the bag.

  “Oh yeah, you can eat all parts of it except for the little tubers that grow aboveground,” I replied.

  With a look of surprise on his face, he said, “No shit? I didn’t know that!” I went on to tell them about making chips out of the tender leaves and how the flowers were also edible. Once we’d made our exchange, Dylan went into the house and returned with several large sacks, stuffed full.

  “Oh wow,” Thad said as he took them. “That’s a lot of groceries.”

  “Don’t worry, we got plenty, I also put some honeycomb in there for the little ones. You didn’t say how many there were, but it should be plenty,” Gena said.