Families First: A Post-Apocalyptic Next-World Series Volume 6 Battle Grounds by Lance Ewing (best non fiction books of all time txt) 📗

“Just as you left it, I’m sure,” Willie told me. “Haven’t been down that way in a few years, though.”

“Mind if I take my boys down to take a look?” I asked.

“Have at it; just let me know if you find anything new!”

“Like squatters?” I asked.

“Yes, just like that…plus anything else. And Mac, fill me in on all the smoke I’ve seen lately. Do we need to be concerned?”

“I don’t know, Willie. Lance and his group here were the last to see it above Estes Park a few days back.”

“What’s it look like, Lance?”

“Well, not great. We got ahead of it, but without current news I’m not sure where it’s at or if it will come down this way. The smoke in our Valley hasn’t gotten any better, though. On the other hand, I don’t see flames on our side of the mountain. We’re headed up to the Saddle this morning, so I’ll get a look from the top of Green Mountain and let you know.”

“My other property…our other property…” he corrected himself as his wife walked out to say hello. “You can see it from the top of the mountain—with binoculars, of course. I’m getting too old to hike up there; even the short walk from where the four-wheelers can get to. Can you give me an update?”

“Yes, sir, I can do that. And you’re right—it’s one heck of a hike from the Saddle to the top of Green Mountain. Right, Drake?” I said, looking around but not seeing him. Mac saw him slipping away with Whitney for a short talk…or whatever teenagers do these days, Mac thought.

I was referring to the part of the Saddle containing my favorite spot—this slice of heaven on earth, and then the short but nearly vertical quarter-mile climb to the top of the cliff we used to rock-climb as teenagers. That spot was the only way to get a real picture of the multiple valleys below; and apparently, the MacDonalds’ other property, now presumably occupied by Ralph and his cohorts.

Now, not only was I on a mission to show my boys and Joy my favorite place. I also wanted to get a peek at the group I had heard about from Mac and my parents, as well as the fire that never quite seemed to burn out.

* * * * * * *

Chapter Twenty-three

Raton Pass ~ New Mexico

The Raton Pass Militia got a rare visit. The only one since the last time the Colonel landed his Chinook right in the center of camp. Members knew better than to shoot at anything flying overhead.

David and Mel met the Colonel and several of his men, plus a familiar face.

“Colonel!” said David, reaching out his hand. “And Mike! I’m surprised to see you both here.”

“Let’s sit for a chat,” offered the Colonel, as they walked towards the only place to have one this important.

“Hello Colonel,” said Beatrice. “And Mike, it’s so good to see you too,” she added, pinching his cheek as an aunt might do to a little boy. He didn’t mind. She reminded him of his own mother, and he was happy to see her.

“Sheila passed a few days back,” he whispered to her.

“I’m so sorry… And Javi?” she asked.

“He’s with Vlad and Anna in a permanent home. I’m working with the Colonel and others now.”

“Katie and Jonah are doing just fine since you rescued them,” Beatrice said. “You always have a home here—for a day or a year. Remember that,” she whispered, kissing him on the cheek, as his mom used to do.

“Thank you, Beatrice,” he said, snapping back to focus.

* * * *

The Colonel spent the next forty minutes laying out the plan for his FEMA guests in Trinidad.

“Your place is remote—too hard to get people up and down the mountain road. Weston will be the main hub, and I need people I can trust to run the operation.”

“Do we have a choice?” asked Mel.

“Of course,” replied the Colonel. “The choices are step up for your country or get stepped on by a foreign one.”

Even David was surprised by how it came out of his mouth. It was not a threat, condescending, or even cocky, but just the facts—like “Would you prefer pretzels or peanuts?” that was asked on most plane flights before the world suddenly came down with overwhelming peanut allergies.

“Here’s how it has to work,” the Colonel continued. “James will be the Sheriff, and you, David, Mayor of Weston. You, Mel, will be on the City Council, and Beatrice, if you can, could be Treasurer.”

“If I can? If I can?!” Beatrice questioned.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied respectfully.

“I cannot only do it, but I’ll also be the best Treasurer you are likely to see in all of your communities. Inside of a year, you will be asking me to train all the rest!”

“I don’t doubt that, ma’am, after all the good things I’ve heard about you. How’s your swimming coming, by the way?”

“Would you like to race, sir?”

The Colonel laughed. “No, ma’am, I guess not. You’re a firecracker, and God loves you for it, I’m sure.”

“David, I would like for you and me to go talk to James VanFleet. My people tell me there is some volatility in town and I need accurate information before moving forward.”

“Sure thing, sir. Should I meet you there?”

“No. Let’s take a quick flight down and bring Mel and your mom, if she’s up to it, of course.”

“Okay, but just to be clear,” said David, “both Mel and I have families, and our significant others need to have a say, as well as the entire community.”

David and Mel both told their wives only the bare bones and that they would return soon. They would no doubt have quite