Honor Road by Jason Ross (best non fiction books of all time TXT) 📕

against a bald man with a goatee. The sheriff delivered a gut punch, the man collapsed forward, then toppled into the mud.

“Can you get your people to pull back to the HESCO?” Mat shouted.

The sheriff bent over his knees, heaving for breath and flashed a thumb’s up.

“All teams, this is Mat. Pull back to the HESCO barrier. Disengage.”

22

Cameron Stewart

“Trust me, the blessed gods have no love for crime.

They honor justice, honor the decent acts of men.”

Eumaeus, The Odyssey

Main Street,

Saint George, Utah

The milkshake joint on the main drag of Saint George wasn’t shut down after all. Quite the contrary.

Cameron, Ruth and the kids sat under the awning on the half-rusted picnic tables eating sandwiches and fries for breakfast. The parking lot milled with men and women in camo, and a small tank covered them from the high point on the boulevard where it went over the I-15 freeway.

“I still can’t believe we found you.” Tommy Stewart shook his head. “We were out on patrol to get a look-see at the enemy in the desert. Lo-and-behold, we find your sorry ass with a bunch of polygamists. Um, no offense, ma’am,” Tommy said to Ruth.

“It’s okay. It’s true,” she said. “We’re from Colorado City. We’re polygamists. It’s not offensive to us.”

Tommy nodded. “Where’s Julie?”

Cameron shook his head. “She didn’t make it. They shot her during a trade.”

“Who shot her?” Tommy tensed.

“Rockville. Their town militia. They ambushed us when we traded guns for food.”

“I’m so sorry, Cam.” Tommy reached across the table and put his hand on his brother’s arm. “We were thinking about scouting along the Virgin River today. Maybe we get a little payback on Rockville.”

Cameron shook his head. “I just came from there. I can tell you what’s up. There’s no reason to go there. Rockville will pay for their sins in time. Colorado City, over on Highway 59, is full of tanks. Maybe fifty of them. The Mexican Army, I think.”

“It’s not the Mexican Army that’s in Colorado City,” Tommy corrected. “It’s the cartel. They captured abandoned American tanks and have rolled up all of Arizona, half of New Mexico and everything that’s left of Nevada. We’re holding them at the outskirts of Saint George for now, but they could roll right through us, any time they like. They stopped after annihilating our roadblock in the Virgin River gorge. They’re probably waiting for those other fifty tanks to come up through Hurricane so they can hit Saint George from two directions at once. We don’t have anything that can stop them, and I think they know that. Today, we evacuate. That’s why we’re eating up all the perishable food this morning.”

“So where’s your family?” Cameron asked his brother.

“They’re at Jenna’s place in Salt Lake City. That’s the base of operations for the Mormon Church. General Kirkham’s cobbling together an army to stop the narcos. We’re down here on reconnaissance. The whole state’s rallying to the church banner, Mormon or not. Maybe the whole Intermountain West.”

“A Mormon Church army?” It sounded absurd to Cameron.

“They’re the biggest show in town since the government fell.”

Cameron chuckled. “Like a big Neighborhood Watch, huh? Are they making everyone join the Mormons? Should I call you Elder Tommy now?”

“Yuck it up. At least I didn’t become a polygamist like some people.” Ruth looked up from her fries. “I’m sorry, again, ma’am.”

She smiled and waved it away. She still wore the long skirts and kept the towering hair of a fundamentalist woman. Cameron felt strangely unconcerned about what his brother might think about him having two wives. After a fashion, he had. In the apocalypse, polygamy might be a survival strategy. A clan was a clan was a clan. Who slept with whom was less important than watching each others’ backs. Even coming from “civilization” in the north, Tommy would probably understand that. Things had gotten weird.

A new reality had been imposed by Mother Nature. Religious differences would get sorted out, but probably not until they figured out how to feed the survivors. Until then, the bigger the team, the better the chance of seeing spring.

Tommy crumpled the wax paper of his sandwich. “The Mormons don’t care if we’re Mormon or not. We’re all in this together. It’s Utahns versus drug dealers, and it’s the Super Bowl of the survival finalists.”

“You guys are going to need lotsa Jesus to beat those tanks.” Cameron shoved the last bite of roast beef sandwich in his mouth.

“That’s the damn truth. I hope General Kirkham has another rabbit up his sleeve.”

“What was the first rabbit?” Cam asked.

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it on the way back to Salt Lake City. We’ll escort you and your family to Jenna’s place. We’re done here for now. I assume everyone’s going with us?” Tommy waved a fry at Ruth and the kids.

Cameron saw the scene for a moment from his brother’s point of view; Cameron was with a strange woman and her strange kids. Julie was gone. Tommy wouldn’t know if Cam and Ruth were together or “together.”

Cameron looked his brother in the eye. “This is my family now. Ruth and all five kids. I made a promise.”

Tommy nodded. “Maybe you’ll tell me your long story too. Honestly, brother, I’d given you up for dead. The kind of man you were when you left Anaheim...that kind of man doesn’t last long out here.”

The words stung, but the sting meant little against all he’d lost, and all he’d seen destroyed.

“I’m not that man anymore,” Cameron admitted.

Tommy stood up from the metal bench. “I can see that. Unfortunately, all that grit landed you in the middle of an even-bigger shit-storm. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t apologize. Nothing’s guaranteed anymore. We eat sandwiches when there’s sandwiches. Tomorrow, maybe there’s nothing. Every day is a gift.”

Cameron helped Ruth untangle herself from the metal picnic bench and round up the kids and their mess. He herded his family toward the pickup truck, now full of gas.

He wondered what it all meant. All of