by Davis, James
“That's what I hoped you all would say. They are good people and we’re going to be lucky to have them here. Now let’s eat!” Dub said as he sat back down.
After dinner, everyone went back to their tiny new homes while Bailey and Karen started to clean up the mess from dinner. Clay and Hank stood up from the table and headed for the front door behind Dub. They each found a seat on the porch and Clay pulled out a smashed pack of Camels. He took one out for himself and handed the pack to Hank.
“Hell give me one of those too.” Dub bellowed from across the porch. Clay lit his own cigarette and stepped over to Dub and handed him one. Dub lit his own and took a long deep hit from the crooked cigarette as he watched Clay sit back down in his chair.
“Well I’d say things turned out pretty damn good considering the shape we were all in not that long ago.” Hank said. He took a long hit of his cigarette, the glow from the cherry lighting up his face as he looked from Clay to Dub. Clay nodded a few times and added.
“I’d say you’re right but it's not going to last. There will be some other bastard like that idiot Monster and his crew that show up to try and test us.”
“Well when they decide to show their ugly mugs around here again, we need to be ready. They’re already in our backyard and after the fights we just went through, I seriously doubt we have the ammunition to hold them off for long.” Dub said. Clay took another puff of his cigarette and flicked the last of it
out into the yard.
“Hank and I will go out on a scavenging run for ammo in a day or two. There’s got to be some stock left in the stores around town.”
“What y’all talking about?” Jeff asked as he climbed up the steps. Randy was right behind him and they both took a seat on the porch railing.
“Just discussing the high possibility of us getting attacked again while we’re so low on ammo.” Hank said with a nod.
“Hell don’t you worry about that.” Randy said with a chuckle as he and Jeff glanced over at one another. Clay, Hank and Dub just stared at them waiting for them to elaborate.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Dub asked with a hint of irritation in his voice. Jeff chuckled again.
“We never got a chance to tell you when we got back from our hunting trip but we found a Wal-Mart warehouse full to the brim with enough supplies to last the entire group more than a year.” Clay and Hank’s jaws dropped.
“That include bullets for all of our weapons?” Dub grumbled.
“Sure does, Daddy. We saw it with our own eyes.” Randy said. Dub started to laugh.
“Well I’ll be damned! You two aren’t just a couple of dipshits after all!”
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
James Davis is a family man, truck driver, welder and most recently an author. He has worked on creating new ideas for stories with his best friend and writing partner. He is a gun enthusiast and avid shooter though he does not compete professionally. James is a member of several writing groups on Facebook including, Authors of the Apocalypse, Written Apocalypse, Written Undead and many others. His hobbies include playing drums, sport shooting, hunting, fishing, artifact hunting (arrowheads) and making up stories about apocalyptic scenarios with his longtime friend and writing partner James Aldridge.
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