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

Sheffield wasn’t about to give him the time. “I don’t give a shit! You lied through your ass! Did you forget who’s in charge around here?” He gripped his collar, holding his insignia out, “In case you forgot, I am, asshole!”

“Look, I’m trying to be nice here,” Sarge said.

Sheffield started to laugh. “I don’t give a shit what you think you’re trying to do.”

“Where the hell did that come from?” Livingston asked, pointing at the Stryker.

“You know he stole it from someone!” Sheffield smarmily replied.

“Actually, I didn’t….” Sarge replied before Sheffield cut him off.

“I’m sick of your shit and don’t want to hear another word out of your fucking mouth.”

Sarge wagged a finger at him, “You really need to relax a little and listen to me.”

Sheffield was looking a little unstable. He laughed again and shouted, “No, I don’t!” He looked at Livingston and said, “Take his ass into custody!”

Sarge and Livingston replied in unison, “What?”

“I said, take him into custody!”

“Look, Captain, that’s not going to happen,” Sarge said.

Sheffield raised his carbine, pointing it at Sarge’s face. The old man didn’t flinch, but everyone around him did. I had been standing off to the side and took a couple of steps towards Sheffield, who was focused on Sarge, and I stuck the muzzle of my rifle into his ear.

“Sheffield, you really need to relax. I don’t know why you’re so spun up, but it ain’t that big a deal,” I said quietly.

He cut his eyes towards me, “You’re just as bad as he is!”

While Sheffield was looking at me, Dalton walked up behind him. Livingston was still in shock at the sight of Sheffield pointing a gun at Sarge. Once Dalton was behind him, Sarge gave a very slight nod and quickly pushed the muzzle of Sheffield’s rifle out of his face. Dalton grabbed Sheffield’s head in a sleeper hold. Sheffield released his rifle, more focused on the large man that was trying to squeeze his head off. Dalton cocked his head to the side, his lips close to the man’s ears and whispered, “Shhh, just go to sleep.”

And he did just that. Sheffield’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out. Dalton stepped back and deposited him face down on the ground and removed his weapons. Then, he pulled Sheffield’s hands behind his back to secure them.

“Don’t do that, Dalton,” Sarge said. Then he looked at Livingston and said, “Come on, help me get him woke up and on his feet.”

Once they had Sheffield up, Sarge looked at me and said, “Go ahead and move to the park and start handing the food out.” Looking at Livingston, he said, “Send a bunch of your people too, for security. But you stay here. We need to have a talk.”

Livingston nodded and gave a couple of quick orders. Sheffield was coming around now and had a look of disgust on his face. One, he made sure Dalton could see. But Dalton ignored it, doing his best to look disinterested.

I stepped up onto the side of the truck Perez was driving and pointed to the park, telling him to head that way. He nodded and started it up and pulled away. Aric got into the driver’s seat of the Hummer, and all the trucks, except mine, moved to the park. I was waiting to see what Sarge and Sheffield were going to do.

“Look, Captain. I know we don’t get along. But I’m not your enemy. I’m here to help you. We went to Eglin Air Force Base and got all this food for the people here. We got fuel and ammo for you.” He pointed at the Stryker, adding, “Hell, we got us a tank! Kinda,” he added with a smile.

Sheffield ran his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Sarge patted him on the shoulder. “I know you are. I know this isn’t what you wanted to be doing. And I’m guessing it’s starting to wear on you a little.”

Sheffield nodded. “It is,” he twirled a finger in the air, “there’s some assholes running around out here right now. We don’t know who they are or where they are. I have to take care of all these people.”

Sarge held his hand up. “I get it. Trust me.” He reached into his blouse pocket and removed a piece of paper and said, “but I’m going to do you a favor,” and handed him the paper.

Sheffield looked at it, then at the old man. Sarge nodded, “Go ahead, read it.”

Sheffield unfolded the piece of paper. Holding it up, his lips moved ever so slightly as his eyes scanned across the sheet. Sarge stood, watching patiently. After a moment, Sheffield shouted, “What the fuck!” A smile spread over the old man’s face and he looked down at the ground as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

Sheffield looked at Sarge and said, “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

Sarge shrugged. “Wasn’t my idea,” he innocently replied.

Sheffield looked at the paper again, shaking his head. Livingston asked, “What is it?”

Sheffield handed him the sheet, still shaking his head. Livingston quickly scanned the print and looked up. He too was in disbelief. “Sarge, they made you a Colonel?”

“Like I said,” Sarge replied, “it wasn’t my idea. But you two can see it for yourselves.”

“So, this means, you’re in charge now,” Livingston said flatly.

Sarge slowly nodded. “It appears that way.”

“Wait,” I said. “You’re telling me they made you a Colonel?”

Sarge cocked his head to the side and asked, “And why is that so hard to believe?”

I started laughing loudly. Leaning over and holding my stomach as I howled.

“What the hell are you bawling about?”

I stood up, wiping my eyes. In a deep tone and with a heavy southern accent, I said, “Lawdy, lawdy, Colonel I do declare! I can just see you in a white three-piece suit!”

He stared down his finger at me, “Keep it up and I’m going to shove three pieces up your ass!” Then he turned his attention back to