Devil's Homecoming: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (The Blackout Series Book 6)

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Devil's Homecoming: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Series (The Blackout Series Book 6) Page 5

by Bobby Akart


  For the next ten minutes, Alex and Stubby emptied the armory of the Hardin County Sheriff’s Department. Several dozen weapons and thousands of rounds of ammo were removed and placed in the back of the old Bronco. They were impressed with the number of weapons still available considering Junior’s propensity to hire deputies. The ammo cache was a huge help, as the ranchers on the west side of the river had spent so many rounds on Shiloh Ridge the day of the battle with Junior.

  “Let’s grab the radios,” said Alex.

  “We need to go, Alex,” Stubby whispered back.

  “C’mon, they’re near the intake window,” Alex said as she hustled into the dark kitchen.

  Stubby followed and the two made their way down the hallway to retrieve the Motorola two-way units, which they crammed into a small gym bag found in a property locker.

  As they returned to the kitchen entrance, they heard a crash of glass and muffled voices. The two froze and crouched against the wall. Stubby handed Alex the gym bag full of radios and drew his pistol.

  They listened to feet crunching glass on the floor. Then there was a momentary silence. Nobody moved until Alex heard a chuckle, followed by a louder maniacal laugh.

  “Well, I’m baaack! Did y’all miss me?”

  It was Junior Durham.

  Chapter 4

  Late Afternoon

  Thanksgiving Day, November 22

  Savannah

  “Tigers! Follow me!” shouted Coach Carey when he realized that the government had arrived in the form of FEMA. He was certain they were not there to help.

  As the rest of the town was drawn to the spectacle on Main Street like bees to honey, Coach Carey sensed trouble and immediately gathered his young charges, who were wise beyond their years. The Tiger Tails and several of the girls from Croft Dairies gathered around him in the cover of the oak trees near the end zone of their makeshift football field.

  Over twenty teenagers waited, many on one knee, waiting for their coach, and probably former mayor, to give them direction. Coach Carey removed his cap and wiped the sweat off his forehead. Despite the chill of evening coming on, the stress and anxiety caused him to break out in a sweat.

  “Listen up,” he started. “I don’t know what’s happening, but it ain’t good. The way they’ve rolled into town, throwing Junior’s brother’s name around, I feel like we’ve taken two steps forward and three steps back. We have to put the Tiger Tails back into play.”

  “We’re ready, Coach!”

  “Yeah, just tell us what to do!”

  Coach Carey clapped his hands softly and then moved closer to the group so that he wouldn’t be overheard. “Everybody go back to your original assigned areas. Ladies, stick with the guy you were paired up with. Does everyone still have their radios?”

  “Yes, sir,” many of them replied.

  “Beau, where do you wanna start the channel rotation?” asked Coach Carey.

  “Let’s start at the top and work backwards,” replied Beau. “Today’s channel designation will be number 99, Joel Case. Tomorrow will be number 95, Don Scott. Got it?”

  “Yeah, QB1!”

  Coach Carey surveyed their surroundings and then stuck his head back into the huddle with the Tiger Tails. “The first thing we have to do is assess the situation. It’s just like those first few days when Junior and Ma took over our town. We’re gonna do recon and surveillance. Report to me periodically, but keep radio chatter to a minimum.”

  “Coach, is there anything in particular you’d like us to monitor?”

  “First, let’s establish a pattern of activity. Determine the number of soldiers being used. How often do they rotate? What are they protecting? Are they conducting specific operations?”

  Beau added, “In other words, count ’em and tag ’em.”

  “Exactly, son. Something like that. Avoid engagement, but get close enough to determine their intentions. Try to pick up their radio chatter. Gather intel.”

  “We’ll do it, Coach!” said one of the boys.

  Coach Carey stood and gave the scene one more good, hard look. He shook his head in disbelief. His friends and neighbors were being handcuffed and dragged to a central location in the middle of Main Street.

  On the far end of the football field, he saw three dark figures dragging a fourth, lifeless body across a gravel parking lot before losing their grip and dropping it in a heap. After hurling several curse words, they yoked the body up by the limbs and started toward Court Square.

  Savannah was on solid footing now, he thought to himself. This wasn’t necessary. Just leave us alone!

  Coach Carey’s thoughts were so loud in his head that he immediately looked to the faces of the Tiger Tails to see if he’d expressed his inner rant aloud. All he saw in return were several sets of eyes looking to him for guidance and strength.

  “Okay, before we break, let’s do a quick head count and make sure everyone is accounted for.”

  The group looked around and several began to count heads. Beau walked around the outside of the group and then became frantic.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” said Beau. “Has anyone seen Jimbo and Clay?”

  “No,” said one.

  “No, come to think of it, we never saw them again after they started dancing in the other end zone,” replied another.

  Coach Carey walked into the middle of the field, exposing himself to the FEMA soldiers if they were to look in his direction. He circled around, desperately looking for a sign of his two adopted sons, whom he loved as his own. In the commotion, he’d lost track of the Bennett boys.

  He jogged back to the group, worried that the body being taken by the soldiers might be one of the Bennetts. “Okay, let’s stick to the plan, except now we need to keep an eye out for Jimbo and Clay. If your post is in the northwest quadrant, search through the woods and also for any known hiding places Jimbo and Clay liked to use. The rest of you, keep your eyes open for them as well. Please report to me immediately if you see anything.”

  “Dad, do you want me to go looking for them?” asked Beau. “We hung out together all the time, so I know their favorite spots.”

  “You and I will do it together, son. We’ll find your brothers.”

  Chapter 5

  Dusk

  Thanksgiving Day, November 22

  Shiloh Ranch

  Colton heard the sound of horses approaching and he immediately grabbed his rifle. Bessie and Madison were moving through the rooms upstairs, packing a minimal amount of clothes for everyone into olive drab military duffle bags. The clothing would be included in the first run of supplies taken to the Wolven place at Childer’s Hill.

  “Maddie! Bessie! Horses are coming from the Wyatts’ direction,” shouted Colton up the sweeping stairwell. “Come on down!”

  Colton heard a thud as one of the bags of clothing was dropped to the floor, and then the sounds of footsteps came rushing down the hallway.

  “Is it Alex?” asked Madison frantically.

  Colton peered through the back windows but couldn’t see. He moved to the kitchen door and cracked it open. Javy and two ranch hands were running toward the approaching riders.

  “Come on!” shouted Colton as he bolted out the door and into the cold night air.

  A horse whinnied as the riders slowed to a stop. “Mr. Jake! Miss Emily! You’re home!”

  Jake and Emily dismounted as they received hugs from Javy and Maria plus a couple of the ranch hands. Colton stopped and his shoulders drooped. Dejected, he found himself torn between being glad the Allens were safe and the fact that the riders did not include Alex.

  “Alex?” asked Madison as she ran to join Colton’s side. “Is she safe?”

  “I dunno, honey,” said Colton. “Jake and Emily made it back. Let’s go see.” Colton took his wife by the arm and they walked to greet the Allens. After Bessie joined the group, Jake and Emily relayed their experiences in town before they escaped. They’d assumed Alex was with Colton and Madison.

  Madison
buried her face in Colton’s shoulder and began to cry. He reassured her and told her not to read anything into Alex’s absence. She and Stubby would take care of each other.

  The group went back inside while Javy and Maria tended to the horses. They planned on riding to Childer’s Hill at first light and they had to also take extra horses with supplies. It was gonna be a long day tomorrow.

  “I assume Alex and Stubby were doing something at the jail,” said Colton. “Those two appear to be able to read each other’s minds. I swear it wasn’t thirty seconds after FEMA’s arrival that they were off and running.”

  “What about Chase?” asked Madison. “Where did he go?”

  “After he created the distraction, we ran to the horses,” replied Jake. “Chase is resourceful. He’ll find a way to get safe and back home. He also knows the area around Childer’s Hill better than any of us. Chase will be fine.” Jake looked down into Emily’s face, who began to well up in tears. It was a tender moment between the two parents, who’d had a difficult time recently dealing with their son. Colton decided to reassure them.

  “Let me say this about Chase, my daughter thinks the world of him and has the utmost confidence in his ability to survive. Whatever plan Chase employed, it’ll work out fine. Don’t worry, guys.”

  Jake patted Colton on the shoulder and then kissed his wife on the cheek. “I think we need to go over our plans.”

  “Agreed,” said Colton. “Why don’t you all join me by the fire and warm up. Maddie, do you wanna whip up some coffee?”

  “I’ll do it, Colton,” replied Bessie. “You guys talk and I’ll catch up in a moment.”

  Bessie left for the kitchen and Madison leaned in to whisper to the group, “Bessie is rock solid and unemotional. Do you think she’s putting on a façade to hide her true feelings? She has to be worried about Stubby.”

  Jake led them to the eight-foot-long stone hearth and everyone sat down with their backs to the fire. Colton felt the heat soak into his lower back, which he’d twisted sometime in the last few hours.

  “Stubby is a soldier despite all of these years out of the military,” said Jake. “Bessie will always have a soldier’s wife’s mentality. She learned to trust in her husband’s abilities to survive.”

  “I wish I was strong like her,” said Madison. “Sometimes I feel like I can rise to the occasion, but others, I’m just a ball of mush.” She laughed as she began to shed a few tears. Colton knew his wife was afraid for Alex. Madison had acquiesced to Alex’s involvement that placed her in danger, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

  “I thought it was all behind us,” added Emily. “I was settling into a pioneer-style life where we could all live off the land and take care of each other without threats of bullets flying everywhere. Who cares if it was the 1800s again. I was kinda liking it.”

  “We can have that feeling again,” started Jake. “We just have to regroup.”

  “Regroup and retreat,” said Madison. “I feel like we’re gonna be on the run forever.”

  Colton slowly twisted his back as the warmth loosened it up. “Stubby was confident that the Wolven place was a good backup to Shiloh Ranch. He was always thinking ahead like that. I’ve learned about his survivalist mind-set in the short time that we’ve been here. He told me that while we can’t anticipate every contingency, we have to accept the reality that our plans have to change based on conditions around us.”

  “Exactly,” said Jake. “If we have to leave Shiloh Ranch, then we’ll go to Childer’s Hill. And if that doesn’t work out, we’ll all go somewhere else. We’re family now, which means we’ll stick together, fight together, and survive as a result.”

  “What if nothing happens?” asked Madison. “When we left Nashville, I knew our days, or even hours, were numbered. I mean, here at Shiloh Ranch, we don’t have an immediate threat from FEMA.”

  “I look at it the same as when we left our home,” answered Colton. “We have to consider the threat from FEMA to be real. As I see it, if nothing happens, we can always come back.”

  Bessie returned with a pot of black coffee and a tray of mugs. As everyone warmed their bones with the hot brew, Jake reiterated the plan.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll ride to the Wolvens’ with Javy and a couple of men. We’ll load up packhorses with gear and supplies. It’s been a while since I hunted down there with Chase, but I’ll get a handle on things.”

  “We have a lot of bodies to take with us,” interrupted Colton. “Between the existing ranch hands and the Mennonites, we’re well over twenty. Where are we supposed to house all of these folks?”

  “There are a couple of campgrounds near there that should have RVs, campers, and some small bungalows available. We’ll scope it out tomorrow.”

  “What about food?” asked Madison.

  Bessie took that question. “You and I, together with Emily and Maria, will load up the wagons tomorrow and send them down the next day. I’m sure Char has a root cellar, so we’ll stock it up. We can always dig another.”

  “Stubby would say focus on beans, Band-Aids, and bullets,” added Emily. “That’s what we’ll do.”

  “I have to ask this question, y’all,” started Jake. “We all heard them mention Rollie’s name over the loudspeaker. I’m assuming that Ma and Junior are a part of this too. Right?”

  “I’m afraid so,” replied Colton.

  Chapter 6

  Dusk

  Thanksgiving Day, November 22

  Hardin County Detention Center

  Savannah

  “Are you kidding me?” Alex whispered into Stubby’s ear. “All of that for nothing? I’m so pissed off right now.”

  “I’m not surprised,” muttered Stubby. “We should’ve put those rabid dogs down the first time.”

  Stubby inched closer to the main hallway to listen. Alex carefully set the bag of radios into the kitchen entrance and pulled her gun. The two moved in silence, walking heel to toe. Alex was cognizant that her sneakers squeaking on the tile floor could give them away.

  The crunching of glass was heard once again as more people entered the Detention Center. “Unlock these dang doors, Junior! I’m in no mood to cut myself on this glass.”

  Alex mouthed the word Ma. Stubby nodded his head and inched closer, attempting to catch a glimpse of the front entry.

  “Let’s take them out and end this,” hissed Alex. “We should have done it to begin with.”

  Stubby raised his finger to his lips and shook his head side to side. He held up four fingers, indicating Junior and Ma had at least two soldiers with them. Alex squeezed the grip on her pistol. They needed their rifles to deal with the FEMA soldiers. Handguns wouldn’t be enough.

  The sound of the steel door rolling up in the intake garage startled them both. While they were focused on the Durhams, the soldiers were entering the Detention Center from the rear. Stubby quickly motioned for them to back down the hallway to the kitchen. They were about to be trapped.

  Alex walked hurriedly to the doorway and picked up the bag of radios. As she fumbled her way through the dark kitchen, she bumped into a stainless steel prep table and groaned. Stubby moved past her to lead the way to the loading dock.

  Where she was loose and nonchalant before, Alex was now visibly nervous. Their vehicle was on the other side of the wall from the intake entry. As soon as it started, they’d be heard. She was mad for not having a sense of urgency before, silently admonishing herself for lollygagging.

  Stubby held the door for her as she slid into the open night air. They could hear voices on the other side of the wall and the sound of shuffling feet on the pavement.

  “Move it along!” a man’s husky voice bellowed.

  A woman could be heard crying as another voice asked, “Why are you doing this?”

  “Shut up!” ordered another voice and a thud was heard as the questioner received a blow of some kind.

  “Stop! You’re hurting him,” a woman’s voice begged.

  “Let’s go! K
eep moving!”

  Alex quietly slipped the bag into the backseat of the Bronco and whispered to Stubby, “I’m gonna get a look. When it appears they’re inside, we’ll go for it.”

  Stubby nodded and got behind the wheel.

  Slowly, she moved along the ten-foot-tall brick wall that separated the kitchen loading dock from the prisoner intake area of the Detention Center. When she reached the end of the wall, she carefully glanced around the corner. The headlights of a camo-painted M35 Deuce and a Half cargo truck illuminated the large intake entry. A dozen people were handcuffed and standing in the doorway. Alex counted at least three guards watching over them. One of the men was pounding on the steel doors, demanding that someone grant them entry. Alex couldn’t make out the words because the big Cummins diesel engine was still running.

  She turned and jogged back to Stubby and the Bronco. She slid into the front seat and closed the door.

  “They’re taking prisoners inside. I saw three guards, with another one trying to get into the building. He apparently didn’t have the keys.”

  Stubby laughed. “I have them.”

  “You do?” asked Alex.

  “Yup, sure do. I removed all the keys from the wall and shoved them into my pockets and this small bag.” Stubby reached into his pockets and began to empty keys into the backseats. “I took the ones for the cars, too. Ya never know.”

  “Very true.” Alex laughed. “That truck is pretty loud. I think we can ease out of here. It looks like this driveway leads to the left around that fenced-in area with the razor wire. If you hug the left side, they won’t see us.”

  “Let’s roll, then,” said Stubby. He turned over the Bronco and steered it along the fence. Alex turned in her seat and watched their rear, looking for any signs of pursuit. She began to breathe easily when she realized they were in the clear.

 

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