“You’re no Bugs Bunny!” Maria squealed from somewhere behind me, and Stu leaned forward and gave me a grin.
The pickup trucks were loaded with men and rifles.
“God it’s good to see you,” I said walking forward.
Stu and Randolph opened their doors and I met them in first one and then two bro hugs. They clapped me on the back, sending puffs of dust and dirt flying from our crazy trip.
“Likewise,” Randolph said, “who’s your friends?”
I turned, embarrassed that I’d completely forgotten about them.
“King is the big guy,” I said pointing and King tipped an imaginary hat, “That’s Michael,” I pointed as he was holstering his pistols, and of course you both know Maria from town.”
“Her mom…” Stu began.
“Gone?” I asked.
They both nodded. Around us, the pickup trucks were unloading and King, Michael, Maria and I stood together inside of a growing semi-circle of men.
“Sounds like war’s all broke out,” a man in an old International Harvester pickup truck said, and stuck his hand out. “Was that you?”
“No sir,” King said slowly, taking the hand, “the New Caliphate is probably taking out Laughlin right now.”
That startled everyone and it showed.
“Ain’t somebody gonna go stop them?” another man asked, his hat almost comical in size.
I’d been there as they were packing up. The camp had literally gone from thousands to hundreds and then a double handful in the hours we were there.
“There is too many. We need the Army or the Marines.”
“You were there? You saw it?” Stu asked me.
“We were both in the temporary camp where the Jihadists were camped. We could hear the artillery going off.”
“I should go,” Stu said to me, “Check in somewhere. They’re going to need me.”
“Hold,” King said, pulling his radio out and turning a dial. He put an earwig in and spoke quietly and then listened and turned it off, taking the clear plastic plug out of his ear. He whispered to Michael who nodded to him.
“Can you folks follow us across the border to make sure we don’t break down? We don’t want to lose the ATV or the bike. We can use it later for operations and, Stu, is it?” Michael asked, Stu nodded. “We have somebody you can check in with down here in a week.”
“Who are you guys, really?” Randolph asked.
“We’re from the government, we’re here to help you.” King said deadpan, and then busted up laughing when everybody groaned.
Soon, they joined in as well.
“Candy bar!” Maria yelled, holding up a Payday triumphantly.
Stu ruffled her hair and shot me a grin. It wasn’t easy to smile or laugh, but I had to take what little joy I could right now.
“This place where people are checking in… Are they taking volunteers?” I asked.
“Can you shoot?” Michael asked.
I snorted and nodded.
“You’re in.”
“Just like that?” I asked.
“Son,” King said putting a big, weighty hand on my shoulder, “There’s not many of us left. It’s convert or die, or just die. They don’t give many choices.”
I thought about the cultured way Khalid had spoken to us, the promise he had made. How we would be left behind and spared. Was he telling the truth?
“I’m in,” I told him, making up my mind.
--The End--
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About the Author
Boyd Craven III was born and raised in Michigan, an avid outdoorsman who’s always loved to read and write from a young age. When he isn’t working outside on the farm, or chasing a household of kids, he’s sitting in his Lazy Boy, typing away.
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The World On Fire Page 10