Home Coming (The Survivalist Book 10) by A. American (best business books of all time .TXT) 📗

The old man snorted, “Leave the army shit to me. I’m going to put a couple of guys in one of the burned-out trucks over there. They’ll be able to see all the way down the road and give us a heads up if they head this way and dip off into the woods.”

“Ok, good. Next thing, in a day or so, a truck is coming here to deliver two pregnant cows.”

Sarge’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “What? Cows? How in the hell did you pull that off? Who the hell has cows?”

I told him the story of how I found the cows and about meeting Dave and his daughter. I explained the deal I’d worked out and about the cookout we were invited to. When I finished, he stood there and pondered it all for a moment, which I found fascinating. The old man was usually quick with a comeback, but sometimes he’d a take a minute to work up the proper response.

“Well shit. Sounds like a hell of deal to me. We’ve got several thousand gallons of diesel still, so that’s no problem. And from what I’ve seen in that pig pen, trading four shouldn’t be an issue either. Plus, I’d like to meet Dave. Who knows what else we might be able to work together on.”

“Exactly! He was a little standoffish when I first started talking to him. But he warmed up pretty quick. I think his daughter Janet pretty much runs the show now. She’s the one bringing the cows over.”

“Alright. I’ll let the guys at the bunker know to keep an eye out for a truck pulling a stock trailer. Some beef would be good.”

I laughed, “We ain’t butchering these cows. Both of them will need to drop a calf and get it weened.”

“I know that, dipshit! But after they’ve both calved, then we can butcher one of them.”

“Yeah; or keep milking her for as long as possible.”

He poked a crooked finger at me, “That too. Then butcher her. I want a steak!”

“You remember that black cow we found on the road out there?”

A smile cut the old man’s face. “You thinking it was one of his?”

“Has to be. I doubt many folks around here happen to have enough black angus that one can get away and they don’t come looking for it.”

“Probably right,” Sarge replied. Then he cut me a conspiratorial smile and said, “We won’t mention that cow to him.”

“No, we won’t. I figure it was stolen from him anyway.” I replied with the same smile.

Mike and Ted came out of the house and stopped in front of us. Mike was looking back and forth between me and the old man. Lowering his sunglasses, he said, “Looks to me like you two are up to something. You about to kiss?”

“Don’t worry about it, shithead! And you can kiss my ass!” Sarge barked back and pointed at the truck sitting in the road, “Get that shit unloaded!”

Ted gave Mike a shove and they headed for the truck. “Come on, Mikey, he doesn’t want to play right now.”

“He never wants to play!” Mike grumbled.

“You’re damn right!” Sarge shouted back.

Turning and having to walk backwards because Ted was pushing him, Mike shouted, “You’re a shitty father figure!”

“I’d cut my nut sack off if I was your daddy!” Sarge barked back.

As all this was going on, Dalton and Aric came out of the house as well. I waved Dalton over as they were heading for the truck and asked, “You know how to build a still?”

“Do I!”

“I want to start on one.”

Dalton looked at Sarge and said, “We’ll be back in a minute.”

“I ain’t got time for grab-ass games! This shit ain’t gonna unload itself!”

“Yeah,” Dalton replied. Then he put a finger to his chin like he was thinking and said, “If only there were another person to help.” He looked at Sarge and asked, “You know anyone doing something utterly useless, like making a fucking list when there’s real work to do?”

Sarge’s right leg flew out in an attempt to kick Dalton in the ass. But the big man is surprisingly limber and easily dodged it, shouting, “I didn’t think so!”

We left Sarge in a flurry of cussing, kicking and stammering as Dalton led the way. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“I want to show you something.”

I looked at Aric for an answer. But he just shrugged. Dalton led us to the house where he has his forge set up. He walked under the little cabana he’d built and turned around.

“You brought that copper sheeting back and said you wanted to build a still.”

I nodded, “Yeah.”

“But you never did anything with it.”

“Doesn’t change the fact I got it to build a still.”

Dalton turned and grabbed a tarp covering something behind him and pulled it off. “So, I did!”

Under the tarp was a beautiful round kettle still. “Holy shit,” Aric said.

“Yeah, holy shit,” I repeated. Then asked, “When did you do this?”

“I’ve been working on it for a while now. It takes a lot time to hammer out sheet material into this shape. I had to make some of the tools too,” Dalton replied and picked up a hammer with a broad curved face. “Just have to sit here and tap, tap, tap, until it starts to take on the form.”

“That’s just awesome. What did you solder it with?” I asked.

“Another challenge. I searched every garage around here for lead-free solder and finally managed to get enough.”

I ran my hand over the smooth exterior. “Amazing work, man. Really.”

Dalton patted the side of the vessel and replied, “It’s been a labor of love.” Then he looked at me with a serious tone. “Now for the important question. Just what are we going to distill?”

“As soon as that corn’s dried, we’re going to make some liquor.”

Dalton hopped around on one foot, shouting. “Hot damn!”

“Calm down there, Jack Daniels. We’re aren’t going into the wholesale liquor business. It’d just be good