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

got word there was a force moving our direction and they decided to unass the AO.”

“They just left you there?” Mike asked.

Arnold nodded. “Yeah. They didn’t have the time or resources to deal with us.”

“Not to mention they didn’t want a fight,” another of the engineers added.

“How did they get out?” Sarge asked.

“Boat,” Arnold answered. “They had other boats.”

“Just not the one they really wanted,” Mike said with a smile.

Arnold smiled and shook his head. “No, they damn sure didn’t have that one.”

“I’d still like to know what they wanted that spent fuel for,” Doc said, “but I was happy to see they took care of you guys.”

Sarge patted Doc on the back. “Yeah. Doc here wanted to go over and help you guys. Thought I was going to have to tie his ass up.” Sarge held his hand out to Arnold. “I’m glad to see you boys are alright and made it out of there. We were worried about you.”

Arnold shook his hand, “We appreciate the fact someone knew we were there. We didn’t know what was going to happen and were really worried. When your fireworks show started, we knew it wouldn’t be long.”

I’d stayed out of the way during their talk. Just listening. This was a time for fellow men at arms to talk. I didn’t need to be sticking my nose into it. I occupied myself with my coffee. Then, remembering Tony had given me some cigars, I took one out and ran it under my nose. The tobacco had a spicy aroma and I decided, what the hell. A cigar before the sun came up seemed like a good idea.

After cutting the cigar, I rolled it between my thumb and forefinger while holding the lighter to it. Once it was warmed up, I puffed it to life. The tobacco was intense and aromatic. Maybe a bit heavy of a smoke for this early in the morning, but it was a new world we now lived in, and I enjoyed it nonetheless.

I sipped my coffee and enjoyed the smoke while the conversation continued. I was eager to get on the road, but also knew I wouldn’t interrupt them. Once their conversation wrapped up, we’d leave, and fifteen minutes either direction wouldn’t much matter. Instead, I thought about our route home.

It would take us through the very path I walked, or much of it anyway. As the smoke drifted up before my eyes, I thought back to the car on the side of the interstate. Seeing it only hours ago, something I never thought I would ever do, brought that day back to me vividly. I could remember walking up and looking over the rise and seeing nothing moving. I remembered sleeping in the car and waking to fogged-up windows in the cold.

I remembered those kids walking down the side of the road, cold and shivering. The girl in nothing more than flip-flops and the kid in a t-shirt. His arms hugged tight to his side against the biting cold that morning. It was a surreal scene to remember, like something out of a Hollywood production. The cold, the heavy wet fog. The silence. Silence like I’d never experienced before. I could see how someone could go catatonic from the shock when you considered the noisy overload our senses were subjected to in our daily lives.

I was brought back to the present by Sarge snapping his fingers in my face. “What the hell are you thinking about? I was talking to you and you acted as though you didn’t even hear me.”

I shook it off. “Oh, yeah, I didn’t. Was just thinking about the day all this started. Seeing my car out on the side of the interstate just kind of brought it back.”

Sarge nodded. “Would be kind of odd, seeing it after all that time. We need to get on the road now though.”

I puffed the roll of tobacco, that was threatening to expire, back to life. “It was. It’s funny, you know. When I think back to that time and compare it to where we are today, it just doesn’t seem like we’ve gone all that far.”

Sarge leaned back against the fuel tank of the truck and folded his arms over his chest. “Oh, we’ve gone a long way, Morgan. Mainly backwards. But we’ve gone a long way.”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right. But at least we’re all still here.” I paused and looked at him. “Can you imagine how many starved to death, or were killed in any thousands of ways?”

He stood up and patted my shoulder. “I can. But let’s not dwell on that. It’s time to get on the road, ole buddy.”

As he turned to walk away, I said, “I’m ready to get back home.”

Turning his head to the side, he said, “I put a couple of MREs in the front seat of your truck. We’ll eat on the road.”

It was still dark when we rolled out the gates of the base. The roads were deserted and we were the only thing moving. It offered both comfort and concern. Comfort in that no one was out. Concern in that we were the only thing moving. But I was certain the presence of that Stryker would prevent any of the locals from even thinking of messing with us. It was the thought of encountering other armor I was worried about.

We started out the way we had come, going through Tallahassee as the sun began to rise, the only indication being the black morphing into gray. I was still nursing the cigar along, intent on smoking it as far down as possible. Between it and the caffeine from the coffee, I was sporting a healthy buzz. Probably not the best idea considering I was dragging several thousand gallons of diesel around behind me.

I watched the side of the interstate, waiting for the car to come into view again. It didn’t take long for it to begin to appear, a vague apparition that slowly took on