Going Home

by A. American

  “You can do what you want, huh? You can kill him if you want, huh? What the hell has he done wrong?” Sarge’s voice rose in octaves as he spoke.

  Ted and Doc quickly secured the bodies of the other two and began to strip their weapons. The agent was lying on his back glaring back up at Sarge through gritted teeth. “You’re a fucking dead man. You have no idea who you’re fucking with.”

  “Oh I know exactly who I’m fucking with. You’re the same kind of asshole I had strung up in my garage,” Sarge said to him.

  The agent’s eyes got wider; he looked up at the old warrior standing over him. “You, you’re the one! Ha-ha-ha-ha, you just wait till we get a hold of you. People like you need to learn your place in the world, and we are certainly going to teach you,” he snarled back. Spittle was coming out of his mouth; he was so mad.

  “Sarge, we gotta go, man,” Ted called out.

  “On your feet, asshole.” Sarge reached down and grabbed the man by his shirt and jerked him onto his feet.

  He still had that sneer on his face when he looked over at the bodies of his two compatriots. Then he looked at Ted and Doc. “You must be two of the fucking traitors we’re going to skin alive. The gloves are off, boys. When we catch you, you’ll beg to die.”

  “What’s the plan, Sarge?” Doc asked.

  Don was back on his feet, although a little shaky. The agent looked at him. “You too, you fat fuck; you’re a dead man.” Don’s face showed the terror he felt; he believed what the man in the black BDUs said to him. He looked at Sarge with fear in his eyes.

  “Shut up, dumbass, you’re in no position to make any threats,” Sarge said. He reached out and grabbed the man’s broken fingers and twisted them. He let out a howl of pain. But he wasn’t going down without a fight. With his good hand, he grabbed Sarge’s wrist and rolled it back and away, while he lowered his shoulder and charged into him. The two men fell to the ground behind the counter.

  Ted and Doc both ran toward the counter as they heard a yelp of pain. As they rounded the counter they saw Sarge standing over the man with a fistful of the man’s testicles. He was lying there in some serious pain. Sarge gave him one more good squeeze before he stood up. Doc and Ted stood there for a minute looking at him as Sarge straightened up.

  “There is only one way to deal with people like you,” Sarge said as he drew his pistol. The sound of the shot filled the empty warehouse. “Get their bodies into their boat and let’s get out of here.” Sarge knelt back down beside the body and pulled the rounds out of his pocket. He stood up and handed them to Don. “I think these are yours. I wouldn’t stick around here if I was you.”

  They dragged the bodies of the three agents out to their boat. A small crowd was gathered outside on the dock. The man that had been talking to the agent earlier was there in the front of the crowd. He was wearing a dirty red flannel, the kind that’s lined with insulation. Everyone looked on while the bodies were piled into their boat. As they dropped the last agent into the boat, he stepped forward.

  “What do you think you’re doing? They’re with the government. You can’t just go around killing them,” the man in the flannel said.

  Sarge looked over to him. “And what have they done for you? They came in there and threatened that man’s life for no reason other than selling some lumber. You ready to roll over and let them tell you what you can and can’t do?”

  “If they will provide for us, I am. We need some help. Where the hell is it supposed to come from if not them?”

  “Well, you may be ready to roll over on your back and spread your legs, but I ain’t,” Sarge replied.

  With that they hopped into the boats. Sarge got into the agents’ boat. “Follow me.” He started the boat and cast off the lines; Ted and Doc did likewise. Sarge headed out to the river and turned toward the west, heading to the gulf. They ran the boats out into the open water of the gulf for about a mile before Sarge kicked the motor out of gear. He stepped back to the fuel tank and pulled the line out of the red plastic tank. Opening the cap he dumped the fuel on the bodies and all over the back half of the boat. From under the console, he pulled an orange Olin flare kit out. Waving Ted over, he stepped back onto his boat and took a handheld flare out and struck it. Tossing the flare into the boat, he waved them back toward the river. As they headed back up the Suwannee, the boat became a ball of flame, thick black smoke billowing up from the slick surface of the gulf.

  “What was that about?” Ted asked.

  “Sending a message,” Sarge answered over his shoulder.

  “I think they’ll get it,” Ted replied.

  The trio made it back to the cabin without incident, although all of them kept their eyes on the sky. Once back, Sarge filled Mike in on what went down and made a point to make sure that everyone knew they had just killed three federal agents of the DHS. After that, Sarge laid out the plan on what he wanted built, and the guys all got to work on it.

  • • •

  Thad slept all night in his chair. He never stirred. He woke in the morning to the smells and sounds of breakfast cooking. He clearly smelled eggs and bacon and heard the grease in the skillet popping. But how in the hell did they have bacon? He rose stiff out of the chair and walked into the kitchen. Anita looked up from her work at the stove as he came in. His mother was sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee. She looked up and smiled at him. “Mornin’, son,” she said with a big smile.

  “Mornin’, Momma,” Thad said.

  He sat down at the table and turned over a cup for himself. Taking up the percolator, he poured a cup of coffee. Anita called for little Tony to come in for breakfast; the little boy came in at a run and sat beside his father, as if it was just another day. Anita dished out some scrambled eggs for the boy and then looked at Thad.

  “You hungry?” she asked.

  “I’m alive, ain’t I?” he answered.

  She smiled at him and returned to the stove. In short order, she was setting a plate down in front of him with eggs over medium, bacon, sliced tomatoes, and a thick slice of bread and butter. Thad looked down at the plate, amazed at what was set before him.

  “How did you get all this?” he asked while looking at the plate.

  Anita sat down at the table with a cup in her hand. “Ole man Jackson is making salt-cured bacon. I have some tomato plants growing out back in a little greenhouse we made out of some plastic. And your mother made the bread. We don’t have too much flour left, so enjoy it,” she answered.

  “Well, God bless, Mr. Jackson,” Thad said as he picked up a thick slice of the bacon.

  The rest of breakfast was spent in light small talk, a lot of it with little Tony. Now that he was home, Thad realized just how much he had missed the little guy and his wife and mother. It was the warmest feeling he had ever experienced sitting at the little kitchen table with his family.

  Anita asked about the truck—where he got it and how the trip home was. He told her of Morgan and Sarge and the guys that showed up there. He didn’t tell her about much of the trip; he didn’t want to think about it himself. And he knew she couldn’t handle some of what he had done—no, he would just keep that to himself. After breakfast, he would go through the truck, but, for now, he just wanted to enjoy this a little longer.

  Over the last cup of coffee, Thad asked how things had been around home while he was gone. Anita told him of the hardships of no power, no news, and not knowing where he was. Even with all that, they lived far enough out that they hadn’t seen any sort of trouble. The few neighbors in the area worked together to help each other out. She traded some of what they had extra of for things they didn’t have. With what they had stored in the pantry, they hadn’t gone hungry, although dinners of rice and beans got old at times. Overall, though, things weren’t as bad as they could be.

  Thad stood up from the table and looked at little Tony. “You wanna come help me clean
out the truck?”

  The little boy jumped up from the table, causing it to slide a bit. He ran for the door ahead of Thad; Anita called out for him to put on his jacket as they went out. Thad went to the truck and pulled the pack from the bed and then went to the cab and pulled all the guns out. He laid the rifle and shotgun on the hood. Then he took out the pistols and laid them out as well. Climbing in the cab, he was about to remove the radio to set up in the house when he remembered what Sarge said about not transmitting from the house, or the same place twice. He decided to leave it in the truck for now. Later today, he would go out and try to radio Sarge; maybe he could even find Morgan on the radio.

  While he was getting the last of his stuff out of the truck, Anita came outside. She came up to the truck and looked at the guns. She stood there for a minute and looked the truck over—the smashed windshield and the bullet holes. Thad saw her looking at where the block had hit. She looked up at him. “Was it that bad?”

  “Yes, it was. I hope to never have to do anything like that again,” he said flatly.

  She was quiet for a minute. “Thad, did you have to kill anyone?”

  She was looking up at him, her arms wrapped around her waist, holding the sweater closed. He looked into her eyes. “Yeah, baby, I did. I did what I had to to get home to you and Tony. Nothing was going to keep me away. And I’m sorry, but I’m not going to talk about it again.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, laying her face on his chest. “I’m just so glad you’re home.”

  “Me too, baby, me too.”

  Chapter 12

  Robert was the other guy at the barricade. He stuck out his hand, and I shook it. He was one of those neighbors that lived in the area. We would wave to each other on the road but didn’t really know each other. I hadn’t ever spoken to him until the Fourth of July. I had to go out looking for the dogs after they ran off when the fireworks scared them. He told me to take his four-wheeler and go to the house with it. I thanked him for that; it was a weird thought to be riding on something instead of walking. I walked over to the ATV and took off the pack and set it on the rear rack. They followed me over as I was taking off the rest of the gear.

  “How was it out there, man?” Lance asked.

  “It’s bad in places. There were a few places that weren’t too bad. But there are some crazy-ass people out there. I saw some truly horrible shit,” I answered as I stepped up onto the ATV.

  “Well, what you did was crazy. I couldn’t imagine doing it. Were you alone the whole time?” Robert asked.

  “No, I traveled with a couple of people—a girl at first, then a big dude named Thad. He was great. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.” I took off my hat and turned my head so they could see the scar.

  “Holy shit, what the hell happened?” Lance asked.

  “The girl we had with us shot me in the head on accident. We were being hunted by a group of people and were hiding in the bush. Last I remember was one of them seeing a footprint on the ground and turning toward us. Thad opened up on them, and it scared her. Thad told me she went to cover her head, and the pistol she had went off and hit me. He got me out.”

  They both stood there just looking at me in silence. They looked at one another and then back at me. Lance started to slowly shake his head. “Damn, man. You are one lucky SOB.”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t easy. I’ll tell everyone about it later. I want to go home right now,” I said.

  “Yeah, man, go. There’s some girls that are going to be very happy to see you,” Robert said.

  I turned the key on and hit the starter on the ATV. It immediately purred to life. I sat there for a minute; a little grin came across my face, and I shook my head a little. It was a strange sensation. I looked at them one last time and put it in gear and headed down the road. I didn’t go fast; I was actually enjoying the ride, kind of taking my time. As I approached my driveway, I stopped for a minute to hop off and open the gate. The dogs started to bark and ran toward me from the house. They stopped short, still accustomed to the in-ground fence that no longer worked.

  I got back on the ATV and started up the driveway; the dogs were still going nuts. Meathead’s hackles were up, and he looked fierce. As I got close to him, I called out his name. He paused for a minute and looked at me. Then little Sounder ran up and jumped onto my leg, licking my hands. The big idiot came running up, and I climbed off. I knelt down and hugged the dogs, Sounder licking my face and Meathead chewing on my hand. That was his thing; he wouldn’t bite hard, but he liked to have my hand in his mouth. I sat there for a minute, petting them, hugging them, and then I heard the front door open.

  My drive was circular, so you couldn’t see the house from the road or even the front of the driveway. There was a thick screen of oak trees, and in front of the house were some enormous old azaleas. They were probably ten feet tall, and in the spring are just full of blooms. I loved them when they were flowering. Climbing back on the ATV, I started toward the house. As I came around the center island of trees, I saw the front of the house through the azaleas, but it was still obscured.

  Pulling up in front of them, I stepped off. There, standing on the front porch, was Mel. She had my AR in her hands. She was looking at me, but she either didn’t recognize me or it wasn’t sinking in yet. I looked at her for a minute. “Well, you gonna shoot me or not?”

  Her face changed; she set the rifle on the top of the rail and ran down the steps. I headed for her, and she threw her arms around my neck and tried to squeeze my head off my shoulders. I wrapped my arms around her and picked her up in a big hug. She was crying, and, honestly, I had tears in my eyes too. We stood there in the embrace for a while; I heard her sobbing. She let go enough that I could look at her. Her eyes were red and puffy; then I gave her a long kiss.

  During all this, of course, the dogs were still all over us, jumping up, tails wagging. Mel pulled my hat off my head and ran her hand through my hair. She immediately felt the wound on my head. “What happened?”

  “It’s a long story. We’ll get to it in time. How are the girls? How have you been?”

  “They’re good, still asleep. We’ve been okay. Things are getting harder lately, though,” she said.

  I took her hand and walked up onto the porch. We sat down on the bench. I gave her another hug and another kiss.

  “I was so worried about you guys. All I wanted to do was get home.”

  She started to tear up again. “We were worried too, especially Taylor; you know how she is. But I knew you’d make it back. When you called on the radio, it really helped just to know you were okay. Why didn’t you ever call back?”

  “It seems there may be part of the government that doesn’t want people to use radios. They would come on the radio every time we used it. Helicopters would show up,” I said.

  “We who?” she asked. I looked at her with a quizzical look. “You said we would use the radios, who was we?”

  “I met up with some people that helped me a lot. If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t be here. Getting here was harder than you can imagine,” I said.

  She reached out and rubbed the scar on my head again. “This?”

  “Among other things, I walked with this girl and another guy for a while. We tried to help some people one night, and things got ugly. The girl accidentally shot me when it hit the fan. If it wasn’t for Thad, the guy, I wouldn’t be here. He got me out and took me to the house of a friend of his. They patched me up. That’s where I got the radio,” I told her.

  She leaned over and hugged me again. We sat there for a long while, on my porch, my house. She finally leaned back and asked if I wanted to go wake up the girls. I said, of course, but I wanted to do it a particular way.

  “Is there any of that pancake mix left?”

  “Yeah, we have tried to conserve. At first, I didn’t do so good, but we changed that,” she answered.


  “Are you using the kerosene stove?”

  “You remember how I said I hated that thing?” I nodded. “Well, I still hate that thing! I just can’t get the hang of it,” she said as she put her face in her hands.

  “That’s okay. You know I like it, and I’ll do the cooking. How about that?”

  “Fine by me!” she said as she stood up. Taking my hand, we walked in the house together. I paused at the door for a minute. She looked at me.

  “I just want to savor this,” I told her. I reached out and turned the knob and opened the door. It looked just like I remembered.

  We went into the house; it felt surreal. I thought I might never see it again. In the kitchen, there was a light on, an electric light. I looked at it and back to her. “Is the solar still working?”

  “Yeah, it’s been on the whole time. You just don’t know what a difference it’s made. It’s caused some trouble too, though,” she said.

  “Trouble how?”

  “There are a couple of people around here that think this should be a community resource. Danny had to come down one day and make some of them leave. They wanted to take it,” she said.

  “Over my dead fucking body,” I said.

  “Well, now that you’re here, you can deal with them,” she said.

  “Who was it?”

  “Guess,” she said.

  I knew who it was. I guess every neighborhood has a person like that, the busybody that gets in everyone’s business, the town gossip. Our particular version was a woman in her late fifties; her name was Pat, and she and I hated one another. I had not thought of her while I was gone. I actually never thought she would be like this. I sort of figured she would be the one that would stand up against this sort of thing.

  “Food is the other issue. People are starting to run out. We had to move the chickens to the back porch. Someone was trying to get in the coop one night, and Meathead started barking. They ran off when I came outside. So Danny came down, and we moved them to the porch,” she said.