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

He smiled broadly. “Permanently now, thanks to Top.”

“I’m glad to have you fellas. But I feel bad you always have to be out here.”

He waved me off. “We’re good. We work in three eight-hour shifts. Believe me, we’re all good with it. The food is better here. We’re in a real house, which we’ve cleaned up nicely now.” He nodded at Thad, “And thanks to Thad here, we even have running water now. This is great!”

“Glad to do it for you fellas,” Thad replied.

“So, don’t worry about us.” His tone shifted. “I’m really sorry about your loss. We didn’t know Bobbie very well. She brought us supper here while you guys were gone and when we went to the house to eat, she was always very nice. It’s terrible.”

I nodded. “Thanks. We’re on our way now to see what the old man’s got out of the perpetrators so far.”

“We saw them when they brought them in. What are you going to do with them?”

“Remains to be seen,” I replied.

“They’re an invading force. What do you think we’ll do with them?” Aric asked.

Wallner nodded. “There were lots of rumors about what happened out here. Sheffield was always ranting about it.”

I snorted. “Yeah. He’s a peculiar sort.”

“Now that Top is running things, it’s going to be different,” Wallner replied.

“What?” Thad asked.

I looked at him. “He doesn’t want a big deal made of it. But he has just been promoted to full bird Colonel.”

“What!” Aric shouted. “Are you serious?”

I nodded. “But don’t say anything. He really doesn’t want anyone to make a big deal about it. Sheffield still runs things in town. But he now has to answer to the old man.”

“I’ll bet that didn’t sit well with Sheffield,” Thad said.

“Actually, he was fine with it. Relieved, actually.”

“I can see that,” Wallner said. “He was always stressed out. He may be a Captain, but he’s no officer.”

I smiled. “Yeah, Sarge said he was a military hobbyist.”

Wallner laughed and pointed at me, “That’s it! That’s it exactly!”

“Alright, buddy, we gotta go check on him,” I held my hand out and shook his. “We appreciate what you guys are doing.”

He gripped my hand tighter. “It’s our pleasure. Really.”

As we headed down the lane towards Sarge’s house, Aric said, “I can’t believe they made him a Colonel.”

“I laughed out loud when I heard it. Pissed him off, but all I could picture was an old southern Colonel, ya know.”

“Like Colonel Sanders?” Thad asked seriously.

I nodded and wagged a finger at him. “Yes. But don’t start on the chicken thing. We’ve already had that discussion.” Thad smiled in reply.

“What chicken thing? Which one is best? Hands down, Bojangles.”

Thad and I both looked at him in horrified shock. “You need to stop talking now. Your Yankee is showing,” I replied as Thad laughed.

“I’m not a Yankee!” Aric grunted.

“Were you born north of Tallahassee?” I asked. He didn’t answer right away and I added, “Then you’re a Yankee.”

That didn’t sit well with Aric and he mumbled, “North of Tallahassee, my ass.” It got Thad to laughing. And I was glad to see it. This silly-ass little conversation pulled us, even if just momentarily, out of the darkness that was closing in around us.

The Stryker was sitting in front of Sarge’s house, and as we walked around it, we saw the garage door was open. It revealed what had become an all too common sight. Micha was hanging from the ceiling, naked. Beside him hung one of the Cubans. The other one was too injured for such treatment. But he was strapped to a chair where he could see everything that was happening.

Sarge was sitting in a chair facing the men. He was leaned back with his feet outstretched and his hands stuffed into his pockets. Doc, Ted, Mike and Dalton were all there as well. Doc, being a man of medicine, was off to the side. He generally didn’t take part in interrogations. Mike and Ted stood on each side of the two men and Dalton was behind them, a length of hose in his hand that I recognized. It got Thad to laughing. And I was glad to see it.

Micha didn’t look well. He hung limply from the ropes, his full weight on them. His body glistened with sweat and his breathing was heavy. I could see red welts on his sides that I was sure extended across his back as well. The Cuban was in a similar condition. Both men looked as though it had been a long afternoon.

Walking into the garage, we looked the scene over. “Does that one speak English?” I asked, pointing at the Cuban.

Dalton nodded and Sarge replied, “Just like a cue ball. The harder you hit him, the more English you get out of him.”

Micha looked up weakly. I stepped up in front of him and looked into his eyes. “You know, I never did like your ass.” I turned and walked away from him. Sliding another chair over beside Sarge, I sat down. “So, what has he had to say?”

“Oh, you know, the usual shit. He doesn’t know what we’re talking about. Has no idea who these hombres are. Never seen ‘em before.”

“Really?”

“That’s how it started out,” Dalton said. Then he ran the piece of hose down Micha’s flank, who recoiled at its now familiar cold touch.

“He’s starting to come around. He’s been a busy boy. He was working with the DHS before we pushed them out. He’s the one that was spraying the farm with herbicide. He was responsible for a number of things,” Sarge said.

“I knew it,” Thad said.

I shook my head. “Why the hell did they spray the farm?”

“They didn’t want us to succeed,” Sarge replied. “They wanted suffering. Thinking the people would beg for the Fed’s help. But that ain’t all. He was also involved in the bombing at the park.” Sarge looked at me and said, “His partner was a tough bastard for not telling me that.”

Micha looked up and I caught his