Conflicted Home (The Survivalist Book 9) by A American (easy to read books for adults list txt) 📗

“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. “Sheffield 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