Conflicted Home (The Survivalist Book 9) by A American (learn to read books TXT) 📕

one of the trailers with fuel. The transfer pump was manual and it was taking some time to get them topped off.

“How much longer to get those drums filled?” Sarge asked Ted.

“They’re filling the last one now. Won’t take long.”

As they were talking, a group of men walked up. Each either wore or carried a large pack as well as their weapon. Sarge told them to hop into the back of the MRAP, that we’d be leaving soon. When the last drum was full, Ted grabbed the pump and tossed it into the trailer, telling the motor pool folks we’d bring it back with the trucks. We quickly got back into the Hummer before anyone could say anything and were out of the yard and headed back towards the ranch.

Once again, Ted drove the Hummer, leading the three-truck convoy. I sat in the backseat, looking out the window at the rain. I leaned forward and said, “We need to go see Mitch. I want to check the weather before we head off on this little adventure.”

“That’s a good idea,” Sarge replied and picked up his radio to tell the other trucks to head on to the ranch while we took care of this side mission.

Mitch wasn’t at the courthouse, so we drove out to his place. I could have just called him on the radio, but I wanted to see the most recent SAT image myself. There was a storm out there that had the potential to cause us real trouble. Mitch was standing in the backdoor with a steaming mug in his hand when we stopped.

He saluted us with it as we got out. “Morning, guys.” We replied in kind and he shook everyone’s hand as he invited us in.

We wiped our feet at the door and followed him into the kitchen where he set out mugs for everyone. “Coffee?” He asked as he poured one for Sarge, knowing his answer before he asked.

Ted and I both nodded in the affirmative and he filled our cups as well. Then he set out a tub of sugar and, to my surprise, a canister of powdered creamer. “Oh wow. Where’d you find this?” I asked as I shook it into my cup.

“I had a bunch put away. It’s a luxury now,” he replied.

Stirring my coffee, I replied, “Well, I appreciate the hospitality.”

“If you drank it like a grownup, you wouldn’t need that crap,” Sarge admonished with a scowl on his face. Then he added, “Ruining a perfectly good cup of coffee.”

“Yeah. Sucking dick is an acquired taste too. But I prefer not to acquire it,” I replied. Then realizing what I’d said, looked around for Michelle.

Mitch laughed at me. “She’s upstairs.”

“Whew,” I replied. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Mind your manners,” Sarge barked. “I can’t take you nowhere.”

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Mitch asked.

“I wanted to see the latest SAT image. We need to take a little trip. But I wanted to see what that storm looks like first,” I replied.

“I have one that’s a couple hours old,” he replied as he got up. “Looks like it fell apart. It’s not nearly as well formed as it was.” He returned with a stack of images and started laying them out in chronological order. Pointing to one of the older ones, he said, “You can see here it looked like an eye was about to form. But it hit this black area here that’s high pressure, dry air. That really put a damper on it.”

“That’s good,” Sarge said as he inspected the images.

Pointing at the newest one, I said, “Maybe. But look at this mess coming off the coast of Africa.”

Mitch nodded. “Yeah that one’s pretty nasty. But it’s ten days or so away.”

“Maybe that high pressure will stick around and turn it,” Ted said.

“No,” Mitch replied, pointing at the image again. “The high pressure is moving to the west, pulling this storm with it. We’re going to have this rain for about three days, I’m thinking. If this ridge moves on off further to the west, it’ll open the door for the next one.”

Sarge looked at him, “You some kind of meteorologist?”

Mitch smiled, “It’s a hobby.”

“He’s the only weatherman we have,” I added.

“So, aside from the rain, we should be good for at least the next week?” Sarge asked.

Mitch nodded in agreement. “Looks that way.”

The old man got to his feet. “We appreciate the hospitality. Tell your lovely wife hello for us. But we’ve got work to do and need to get going.”

Mitch asked what we were doing and we shared it with him, making sure he understood not to share the info with Sheffield.

“Oh, I never talk to him. I usually work with Shane and Shawn. He stays out of our business,” Mitch replied.

“As it should be,” Sarge replied with a nod.

Mitch walked us out to the truck where we said our goodbyes, with handshakes all around. He told us that if anyone up our way needed anything to please let him know. I thanked him for the offer and told him I’d pass it on. Then we were back in the truck and headed home.

“We’ll drop you off at your place, Morgan,” Sarge said. “I’ll get those Guardsmen sorted and we’ll get loaded. You pack a bag and we’ll come pick you up.”

“Be sure and let those guys know where to go to eat. Tell them if they need anything to get with Thad. He’s jefe as far as they’re concerned”

“Leave the Army shit to me,” he replied dismissively.

I snorted and shook my head, turning my attention back to the rain outside. It was a miserable day, though it was a reprieve from the heat. But that would be compensated for when the sun came back out and began to burn the water off. It’d be like living in a sauna.

We rolled into the neighborhood and Ted took me to my house. Pulling into my driveway, Sarge turned his head and said, “Get