Families First: A Post-Apocalyptic Next-World Series Volume 6 Battle Grounds by Lance Ewing (ereader for comics .txt) 📕

as another five hand-chosen from the new group, once interviewed. They were tasked with keeping this end of the Valley civil and safe. Cory and Cameron would be moved into the house furthest from the Ranch and closest to the lake and new community.

They would oversee an initial population of just under 100 families—about 80 single men and women, and around 400 total, children included.

The Colonel promised to provide food and shelter for 400, extending one year, and filters for turning the reservoir’s water into drinking water. He even added a doctor and medic, thanks to Max and Baker’s granddaughter volunteering, in exchange for a Government position down the road.

The new inhabitants were brought through the southern border in Army trucks and introduced to their new security detail and medical crew. Cory made it clear that rules would apply to the community as a whole.

Rule number one: No infighting, no matter what the charge. All disputes would be settled by a team put together by Cory from the population, including two attorneys, one female and the other male; three impartial individuals, as much as he could tell in the interview, to play the role of mediators; and one retired criminal court Judge, who didn’t mind volunteering.

“I’ve got nothing to do, so why not?” the retired Judge told Cory. “It won’t be the first volunteer work I’ve done. Of course, we’re all working for room and board now,” he added.

“It’s good to have something to work on, though, wouldn’t you agree?” asked Cory.

“Yes, you’re right about that. I thought I would just go fishing and watch TV when I retired a few years back,” said the Judge. “Now fishing is no longer a sport but a necessity, and as for TV…well, that’s a wash too.”

Cory smiled as the trailers were secured in place, putting his arm over his son’s shoulder.

“You missed this, Dad—the leadership part—I can tell,” said Cameron.

“Yes, son, I did. Mac is great to work for, but it’s something else to lead.”

“Cory, we’ve got something being delivered down here,” came the call from the southern border. “They are asking where you want it.”

“What is it?” asked Cory, expecting food or medical supplies.

“The first three trucks are Porta Potties, and the next two look like those houses you used to see going down the freeway with the wide-load sign, except these have bars on all the windows.”

“Well, I guess that’s not a surprise,” replied Cory. “There are always a few bad apples in every bunch; send them on down.”

“Every town needs a jail,” said the Judge matter of factly. “I’ll do my best to keep most of them out of it but can’t promise anything.”

“I’m sure you will, Judge,” replied Cory. “I think I’ll hold off on appointing a jailer for now, though,” he added.

* * * *

Joy and I both met with Mac the next morning at breakfast, and I knew it was a big ask with everything going on. But once I pointed out the three locations on the map, one of which I had already taken them to a couple of years ago, he said to hold tight—he had an idea.

He was on the radio and back in 15 minutes.

“Here’s the deal,” Mac said. “My crew has been all over the mountain for days, and it’s as safe as it will ever be for a short trip—no overnights, though. Your parents, Lance, told me of a spot you called the most peaceful place on earth, and I had tried to find it several times over the years. They said you left something there?”

“Yes, sir,” I replied—“a pile of rocks stacked ten high, as they do on the big mountain climbs. There may be others like it, but this stack has seven of the ten rocks not found anywhere close to here. That’s how you know you’re there.”

“That settles it, then. I’ll go with you, and I just radioed Drake, who also wants to tag along.”

“If we have enough four-wheelers, can I bring Vlad if he’s up to it?” I asked, figuring we would likely not get a second chance at this soon, or maybe ever again.

“Yes, and yes,” he replied, “but we need to make a stop at the MacDonalds’ place on the way.”

“Sure. Fine by me. That Willie is a funny guy. Stubborn as a mule but funny still,” I said, remembering the night years ago when he caught me and some friends in one of our favorite spots, but apparently on his property. He started with a lecture, if I remember correctly, and ended with a few jokes and eating half of our ravioli. After that, we were welcome anytime he gave us permission.

* * * *

Preparing to head out, with Vlad in tow, I was more excited about something many would find to be no big deal, but to me it was everything to share this place with Joy and the boys. After all, it was my favorite place on the entire planet, and I brought a rock all the way from Texas to add to the pile when we found Hendrix.

Joy finally agreed as well, with Mac’s assurance that we would be watched by his crew the entire way.

Thirty minutes later, we were off, headed first to the MacDonald house.

Mac was surprised, as was Drake, when Willie stood up on the front porch and reached out to shake hands with him and me.

“Hey, there. I remember you,” he said to me. “You were just a boy, but you always wanted to camp on my property!”

“Yes, sir. That’s right!” I replied. “And if I remember right, you ate half of our food that first time,” reaching out to shake his hand.

“Yeah, I remember that,” he laughed. “I caught some flak from the missus about that, but raviolis are my favorite!”

“Is