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

could tell something was different,” I replied and looked over, “in a good way.”

Slapping the steering wheel, Sarge shouted, “In a damn good way!”

“Yeah, I kinda like it.”

Sarge glanced over at me. “You better watch yourself now. It’s looking to me like Mel is getting ready to kick some ass.”

I laughed. “Yeah, but you’re on deck. She still ain’t got over you showing your ass in the front yard.”

The old man’s face soured. “Now why you gotta go being an asshole? Here we were having a perfectly good conversation and you had to go and fuck it all up!”

Shrugging, I replied, “I wasn’t the one dropping my trou…”

“Kiss my ass!”

Now, I laughed. “Pick a spot, old man.”

We found Cecil at the first place we stopped to look, the cornfield. Cecil seemed to like spending time there. Maybe because it was so far away no one would walk out there, and he could be left alone. Maybe he just liked to watch the corn grow. Either way, he was sitting in the shade of the oak tree when we rolled up.

“What kind of trouble are you two up to?” He asked as we got out.

“Come looking for you,” Sarge replied.

I was carrying my thermos of tea with me and sat down beside Cecil on an old wire reel. I held it out and asked, “Want some?”

He waved it off, “It’s too damn hot for coffee.”

Sarge snorted, “Nonsense! It’s never too hot for coffee. That’s like saying it’s too hot for air!”

Cecil sipped water from a plastic cup and replied, “It is too hot for air today.”

“This is ice tea. Some of us ain’t bat shit crazy,” I said.

Cecil pitched the water out of his cup and held it out. “Now, that I’ll take.” I poured his cup full and after taking a long drink of the cold tea, he asked, “What do you want with me?”

“We’re going to a little get-together tomorrow with some folks Morgan found. Wanted you to come along,” Sarge replied.

Cecil looked at me, “Where’d you find ‘em?”

“In a cow pasture.”

The old man laughed, showing his long teeth. “You mean a pasture, ain’t no more cows.”

“That’s the thing, Cecil. They got cows too. Lots of them. They’re going to give one to the town to help with the injured at the gym. And we also traded for two cows. Tomorrow, they’re putting on a feed, all the steak you can eat.”

Cecil’s eyes went wide. “Steak?” He nearly shouted. “Say no more! I’m definitely in!”

“Thought you might want to come,” Sarge said.

“Where are these folks?”

“Out off of forty-two.”

Cecil nodded, “That big ranch there by four fifty. I know where you’re talking about. Didn’t know there was anyone out there.”

Taking a sip of my own tea, I said, “They’ve been laying low. Unsure of just what was going on. Sounds like they’ve got a few people out there.”

“Boy,” Cecil said and wiped his chin, “I ain’t had any beef since you all gave me some. That sure would be good.”

“Well, tomorrow you can eat till your belly busts,” Sarge replied.

“What time?”

“They said after noon. We’ll come up and get you and carry you home afterwards,” I answered.

“That sure will be fine. Just come here and get me. I’ll be up here waiting on you.”

We looked out at the stand of corn. It was starting to turn brown, the stalks dying and beginning to wither. I asked, “How much longer till it’s ready?”

“Not much longer. But it’s going to be tough to get enough people out here to pick it all. I’m fearing we’re going to lose a bunch. So many folks are gone now. We’re going to be short of hands.”

“We’ll get it picked,” Sarge replied. “If it takes all of us working day and night. We can’t let any of it go to waste.”

“We’ll be up here tomorrow to get you, Cecil. We have to go find Mitch to take care of some other business now,” I said.

“Alright, fellers. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

We left Cecil in the shade of the tree and headed into Eustis. As Sarge pulled out onto nineteen, a sense of loss came over me. I used to bitch about having to go to Eustis to see Sheffield and Livingston. But today, I wish they were there to visit. We rode through what was left of the town. The blackened and charred remains still littered the streets and impacts where rockets had blasted away the road, sidewalks and curbs were still very evident. The place was a ghost town. The once busy lakeside park was empty, save the shattered trees and playground equipment littering the grounds. The tables the traders used were also destroyed and not a soul ventured there. Even the gallows so much work had been put into were burned to the ground. We turned east on forty-four and headed towards Mitch’s place.

With so much of the town destroyed and so many to be buried, we’d selected a spot on the edge of town as the cemetery. Lake Gracie was just a few blocks east of downtown and I suggested we ride over there and see how it was going.

“Might as well,” Sarge replied as he turned onto Prescott Street.

Shane and Shawn were heading up the burial detail. They managed to find a small excavator and with the help of Scott and Terry, got it running. The deceased residents of Eustis were being interred in mass graves. It was awful work, but it needed to be done.

“Must be close,” I said as I wrinkled my nose. You could smell the location long before you could see it.

“I recognize the smell,” Sarge replied.

We stopped a short distance from where the excavator was working. Shawn sat in the seat, a bandana tied around his face as he dug the long ditch. It took a long time to dig them as they had to be wide enough for the bodies to be laid in and deep enough. The machine was seriously undersized for such a project, but