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

picked it up and fired a grenade, which landed in the trees out of sight. He quickly pushed another into the small tube and adjusted his fire and launched it. This one hit at the river’s edge, sending water and mud flying into the air.

“Stop shooting!” Sarge shouted as I turned out into the river. “They ain’t shooting back and we’re too far away now.”

“Did that asshole ever get a shot off?” I asked.

Sarge nodded, “Yeah, one I think,” he replied with a laugh. “I don’t think he was expecting the Minimi.”

“Or the grenades,” Danny added.

“I bet that woke his ass up,” I replied.

Sarge was laughing. “Wish I could have heard what was going through his mind!”

“He probably shit himself,” Danny added.

The idea got me to laughing, “Yeah, he probably said it, then did it.”

Sarge acted it out from his seat up front. Miming raising a weapon, then ducking while shouting, Shit! Then getting a disgusted look on his face as he patted the seat of his pants. “Ma!” He shouted. “I did it again!” It had all of us laughing by the time he finished the charade.

We quickly passed Goat Island and Flowers Island. As we approached Guava Island, I shouted, “Fort Florida is coming up on the left. Keep an eye out.”

Up to this point we hadn’t seen any other boats. But the sun was fully up now, and we were entering a section of the river that was more populated. At Guava Island, we passed the Wekiva River where it emptied into the St Johns after flowing for many miles from its spring near Apopka. As a kid, I spent a lot of time in that spring. Diving into the spring and swimming against the incredible current to get to the bottom to scoop up sand was a common pastime there.

The sand would be brought up and searched through for shark’s teeth. And in nearly every scoop that came up, there would be teeth in it. It was amazing to think about how they got down there that deep. The power of the spring was forever pushing more up. It was also a great place to look for money! And as a kid, I always took a swim mask with me for just this purpose. Wallets were also not uncommon finds in the swimming area, as were shoes and other swim masks. It was a great place to be a kid in the summer and Mom had taken me there often.

As we rounded a bend, the small community of Fort Florida came into view. Here, there were houses on the river’s edge and nearly all of them had a small dock of one sort or another. But what caught our eye were the small boats out in the river. Several small boats, Jon boats and canoes, were out in the middle of the river working a large gill net. As soon as we rounded the bend, the sound of the motor got everyone’s attention and they were looking at us.

The old man raised the Minimi and Danny shouldered the AK with the launcher. But the people in the boats just stared in apparent amazement as we drew nearer. I’d slowed the boat, in case we needed to beat a hasty retreat. All of the men working the nets were shirtless and in shorts. Their skin was dark, and it was obvious they spent a lot time on the water.

I slowed further as we approached them. Their net was strung all the way across the river. Not seeing any weapons on any of them, Sarge waved and called out, “How’s the fishing?”

A man in a Jon boat had the net laid on the deck as a younger man pulled the catch from it. They were pulling themselves along it, bringing it up over the boat as they worked down its length. Others were doing the same on different sections. The man waved back and said, “Pretty good,” and looked around before asking, “Who the hell are you?”

I eased the boat towards him and Sarge replied, “Nobody. Just out to find some folks.”

The man looked suspiciously at the machine gun Sarge held. “I’m glad you’re not looking for me. Where did you get hardware like that? You in the Army or something?”

“Something like that. Can we slide over the top of this thing? I don’t want to damage your net.”

The man pointed at a section of the net lying in the water with only the small foam floats visible. “You can come over it there. Just raise that motor when you get to it.” Then, as though the realization just came to him, he asked, “Where the hell did you get gas?”

“Like I said, we’re something like the Army,” Sarge replied.

Then the man pointed at me and asked, “You a deputy sheriff?”

I looked down at the star before replying, “Something like that.”

“Something like that?” The man asked rhetorically. “Is that all you guys have to say? Is there help coming or something?”

“Not any time soon,” Sarge replied. “You folks look like you’re doing alright.”

The man looked down at the deck of the small boat and the fish lying there. “I guess.” Then he looked back at Sarge, “But I’m getting damn tired of eating fish.”

“Maybe so. But if you didn’t have them, you’d be thankful to get them. There are still a lot of people out there starving.”

“I reckon so,” the man replied. “Where are you guys from?”

“Altoona,” I replied.

“Altoona! How the hell did you get here?”

Thad was loading some gear into the little red truck to head to town when some of the guys walked up.

“You going to go help with that beef for town?” Perez asked.

“Yeah. I’m gonna meet Cecil.”

“I’ll come help.”

“What the hell does a Mezcan know about butchering cattle?” Mike asked with a laugh.

“I’m not Mexican, blanquito gusano.”

Mike looked at Ted, “Means little white worm,” Ted said.

Mike nodded, “Whatever. I forgot the PR was the Caribbean cattle capital.”

“Actually, Puerto Rico has a