Home Coming (The Survivalist Book 10) by A. American (ebook reader .TXT) 📕

hot water made it from the heater to the shower. A hot shower was one of life’s greatest luxuries as far as I was concerned, one I hadn’t had in some time. So, when I turned the water on in the shower, I stepped in immediately. The water was bracing, but it felt good. Using the small piece of soap, I still hadn’t found another piece, I scrubbed myself clean. The water ran black down the drain and it took some time to get all the crud scraped off my body. But eventually the water ran clear down the drain and I shut it off and stepped out to towel off.

There was a glass of ice water sitting on the vanity and I took it and greedily gulped it down. It was damn cold, and good. Going into the bedroom, I found clothes laid out on the bed and another glass of tea on the nightstand. It made me smile, Mel was always looking out for me. As I consumed more tea, I remembered joking back in the day about the magic tea jug. It was magic because I could pour the last glass of tea from it, set it on the counter and come back later to find it in the fridge, full. It was a running joke between me and Mel about the tea fairies.

Clean and dressed, I came out, tea in hand and sat down on the couch. Mel was in the kitchen and I asked, “Where are the girls?”

“Little Bit is over at Danny’s and the other two are down at Fred’s house. They got bored and wanted to go keep her company since Aric was in town.”

“I imagine he’s back now. Everyone was headed home when I left. Folks from town were going to take care of the injured. I just needed some sleep.”

“Eat something first, then go lie down.”

She came out of the kitchen with a sausage biscuit on a plate and handed it to me. It was nice having flour and being able to make bread stuff. And I love biscuits. The sausage was from one of our hogs that Thad butchered. Spices were hard to come by, but it was still good. Really good. As I ate, Mel sat down on the couch and pulled my leg into her lap. She started to rub my foot, and it felt so good.

We didn’t talk as I ate, she just rubbed my foot and calf and I enjoyed the biscuit. I was afraid to say anything because I didn’t want to have to go into what we’d done. I wasn’t sure how Mel would take to the thought of executing the wounded. But she never asked anything. Never said a word. When I finished the snack, Mel took the plate and said, “Go to bed for a while. You want me to wake you up later?”

I stretched. “No, let me sleep until the crack of when-the-fuck ever.”

CHAPTER 3

The old man sat tapping his foot on the floor, radio mic in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He stared at the radio, willing it to issue a sound. He was impatient and getting more irritated by the minute. Bone One should be on station now and he wasn’t hearing anything. Just as he was raising the mic to his mouth, the speaker crackled. A calm, cool voice came over the speaker. Air Force pilots always impressed the old man with how laid back and at ease they were, no matter what was happening.

Bone One, Swamp Rat one.

“Go for Swamp Rat.”

Swamp Rat, we’re about three minutes out. Are your people out of the target area?

“Roger that Bone. They’re ready to laze the target.”

Swamp Rat, have them light it up.

“Swamp Rat Two, paint the target. Bone is in-bound.”

We copy, Swamp Rat One. Target is lit.

Swamp Rat Two, get small. Get in a hole if you got one. Weapons are loose, ten seconds.

Instinctively, the old man looked at his watch. For their part, Ted whispered the weapons were on their way and they had ten seconds. Mike was holding the laser on the target and asked, “Why are we doing this? They can fly those things through an open window. Why the hell are we lying our here in weeds?”

“The GPS system has been compromised. There are gaps in coverage and we don’t want one of those gaps to appear when we have JDAMs on their way in. This is foolproof.” Ted thought about what he said and added, “Even with you running the thing.”

There came a sudden tearing sound, followed immediately by several intense explosions. The auto auction disappeared in a massive cloud of dust, smoke and flame. All six of the weapons impacted within a fraction of a second of one another.

Bone One, all weapons on target.

Roger that, Swamp Rat.

“Holy shit,” Dalton said absent mindedly.

Ted looked over and asked, “You never seen one before?”

“No. First time. And that shockwave, it compressed my chest and popped my ears.”

“Yeah, shoulda told you to keep your mouth open. You might get some dirt in it, but it beats that pressure squeezing your head.”

The plan was simple. Bone One would drop its payload. When the target came back into view, Ted would do a damage assessment. If the strike wasn’t one hundred percent successful, Bone Two would come in and finish off whatever was left. Ted was watching the dust settle, waiting for the visibility to improve. After several minutes, the dust settled enough that Ted could make out some figures moving in the target area.

Picking up the radio, he keyed the mic. Bone Two, we still have hostiles at the target site.

Roger that, Swamp Rat. We’ll be in position in about seven minutes.

Roger, Bone. Bring the hate.

Meanwhile, Dalton was watching the target location through the scope of the M1A. As visibility improved, he was able to make out individuals moving about the carnage created by the strike. That is