Bug Out! Part 13: Finale

by Robert Boren

  Epilogue

  Jake shuffled out of the Clubhouse, looking at the last of the paying customers as they left. The closed sign was on the gate. The hot Kansas summer was over, and the fall was settling in. He sat on a chair, feeling weepy.

  “You okay, honey?” Frankie asked, sitting in the chair next to him.

  “Yeah, I’m all right,” Jake said. “Just getting sentimental. I can’t believe it’s been fifteen years. Can’t believe so many are gone already.”

  “It’s the way of things,” Frankie said. “What time are the kids coming?”

  “Should be here any minute,” Jake said. “Dobie and Vickie are coming early too.”

  “Good,” Frankie said. “Anybody beg off?”

  “General Hogan,” Jake said. “His son said he’s too weak. The guy is in his late-80s now.”

  “Is Jeb really coming?” Frankie asked.

  “Hell, that sucker gets around better than I do. Can’t believe he’s going to be 90 this year.”

  “He seems to be doing okay after losing Rosie,” Frankie said. “What’s it been? Two years?”

  “Yeah,” Jake said. “Not many of the first generation left other than Jeb. Just Hilda and Mary.”

  A large diesel pusher turned into the driveway and drove down to the clubhouse. The door flung open, and five kids piled out.

  “Grandpa!” shouted a boy of about five. Four more followed, the oldest fourteen, the rest down two years each. Trish followed them, big smile on her face.

  “Go use the bathroom,” Trish called. The oldest son looked at her, shaking his head. “I wasn’t talking to you, Gabe.”

  “I know, mom,” Gabe said. He was a tall boy, a little gangly with a build like Terry.

  “Hey, kids, after you wash your hands, go get otter pops out of the walk-in freezer,” Frankie shouted.

  “Goody!” the youngest boy said. He scampered off, the older kids following.

  “Hey, Dad, where do you want Terry to park the rig?”

  “Pick any space you want,” Jake said, standing up.

  She turned back and told Terry through the door, then shut it and walked over as Terry drove back to the spaces.

  “How you holding up, sweetie?” Jake asked. “You look tired.”

  “Five kids,” she said, shaking her head. “You guys knew all along, didn’t you?”

  Frankie snickered. “I was going to tell you back then, but Jake wouldn’t let me.”

  “Would it have made any difference?” Jake asked.

  She sat in one of the chairs on the veranda. “No. I was so anxious to get started. I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.”

  “How is it with you two?” Frankie asked.

  “I think Terry would have more kids,” she said, laughing. “I put my foot down.”

  “No, I mean are you happy?” Frankie said.

  “Oh. Yes, I found my soul mate,” she said. “Really. He’s been the best husband and father.”

  “I still remember the first time you two saw each other,” Jake said. “I knew.”

  “And I fought it, but that didn’t last long,” Trish said. “You were a little too happy about it, as I remember.”

  “I remember,” Jake said. “Hey, Terry!”

  “Jake, how are you?” Terry asked, walking up. His hair had touches of gray, but otherwise he looked strong and fit.

  “I’m good,” Jake said.

  “When are the others getting here?” Terry asked.

  “Well, here comes Dobie and Vicki now,” Jake said, nodding over at the road. A large 5th wheel trailer was coming, towed by a new truck.

  “He got a new rig,” Terry said. He waved as they drove up. Vicki rolled the window down.

  “Hi, guys,” she said. “Where do you want us?”

  “Take your pick, honey,” Jake said.

  “Okay,” she said. “We’ll be over in a few minutes.”

  Dobie drove back to a pull-through space and parked.

  “I wish my uncle was still alive,” Terry said, leaning against the rail facing Jake. “I miss him so much.”

  “The Sheriff,” Jake said. “You know, I don’t remember ever calling him by his first name.”

  “I know,” Terry said. “I had to use his real name for one of the kids. Trish didn’t want to call him The Sheriff.” He snickered as Trish rolled her eyes.

  “Jack,” Jake said. “It’s a good name. Wonder if it bothered him that we never called him that?”

  “I think he preferred The Sheriff,” Terry said.

  “You guys named all of your kids after members of the group,” Frankie said.

  “Yep,” Terry said. “Gabe, Rosie, Charlie, Jeb, and Jack.”

  “Only one girl,” Frankie said.

  “Yeah, and she’s the hardest of the bunch,” Trish said with a smirk. “Wonder if she’ll sulk somewhere this time?”

  “She’s got the gift,” Frankie said. “It’s difficult. Don’t tell her, but she’s going to be interested in George.”

  “Yeah, Vicki and I are gonna have to chat about that,” Trish said.

  “They’re still too young to notice each other that way,” Jake said. “They tend to avoid each other, from what I’ve seen.”

  “Give it time,” Frankie said.

  “Grandpa!” Jack said, rushing over to him. “Do we get to take the dungeon tour this time?”

  Jake looked over at Trish, and she shook her head no.

  “Not yet, Jack. You’re still a little too young.”

  “No fair,” he said.

  “Gabe is old enough, if he’s interested,” Frankie said.

  “He’s already seen it,” Trish said. “I’m worried about letting Rosie in there.”

  “I would be too, but she is old enough,” Frankie said. “Up to you, honey.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Trish said.

  Dobie and Vicki walked up with their four kids. Jamie was a young woman now, and Derek in his early twenties.

  “Hey, Uncle Jake,” Derek said, smiling.

  “Hey yourself,” Jake said. “Hi, Jamie.”

  “Hi, Jake,” she said. “How are you?”

  “I’m great,” Jake said. “George, how are you doing?”

  “I’m good,” he said. “Can I interview you later?”

  “Interview me?”

  “His class is studying the war, and they had a whole section on us,” Vicki said. “His teacher asked him to interview you about what happened to everybody after the war.”

  “Oh,” Jake said. “Of course you can interview me. You should talk to some of the others, too.”

  “Oh, I will,” George said.

  “He already pumped me for some lurid info,” Dobie said, laughing as he walked up with Kurt, his youngest. “How are you guys?”

  “We’re great,” Frankie said.

  “Do I get to take the dungeon tour this time?” asked Kurt as he walked onto the veranda.

  “How old are you again?” Jake asked.

  “I’m twelve,” he said.

  Jake looked over at Vicki, and she shook her head no.

  “Maybe next year,” Jake said.

  “Okay,” he said. “You can tell me stories about it, though, can’t you?”

  “Well, George and Malcolm will be here tomorrow, you know.”

  “They will be? They hardly ever come!” said Kurt.

  “They’re usually busy, but they’ll be here this time,” Frankie said.

  “Yayyy!” Kurt said.

  “Go get an otter pop,” Frankie said.

  He scampered into the clubhouse.

  “So what do you want to ask me, George?” Jake asked.

  George pulled a chair over. “What happened after the last battle?”

  “Okay,” Jake said. “I guess now is as good a time as any, right Frankie?”

  “Sure, we still have some time before the rest of the group shows up.”

  “I’ll start recording,” George said, pulling a digital recorder out o
f his pocket.

  “They make those damn things smaller every year,” Jake said, looking at the device. It was the size of a quarter. George set it down on the arm of his chair.

  “This one picks up really good, and holds two hundred terabytes,” George said.

  “He likes gadgets as much as you do,” Dobie said, laughing. “I’m gonna go get a beer. Bar open downstairs?”

  “Yeah, help yourself,” Frankie said. Vicki got up and followed Dobie into the clubhouse.

  “All right, then,” Jake said. “After the last battle, we had a party at Cheryl’s park in Seminole, Texas.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She’ll be here tomorrow. She married Charles Goodnight.”

  “He was a militia guy, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes, George. The only one of the core group still alive. Field Marshal Hopper and the rest have passed over the years. Anyway, we had the party, and we drove back here early the next morning.”

  “Everybody?”

  “No, not everybody. Clint and some of his people went back to his RV Park instead. The militia guys went back to Gabe’s park … your park.”

  “Why did they come to our park?” George asked.

  “They were using it as a base when we got together with them,” Jake said. “Eventually they left. Your mom and dad took over the park. Inherited it from Gabe.”

  “Oh. But everybody else came back here?”

  “For a while,” Jake said. “It got cold here, and by the dead of winter most of the people had gone back to their homes.”

  “Details?” George asked.

  “Well, let’s see. Charlie and Hilda went back to Hilda’s park. They asked Terry and Trish to run Charlie’s park in Arizona, near the Grand Canyon, and that’s where they still are today, as you know. Hilda gave it to them after Charlie passed. Earl, Jackson, and Jeb run Hilda’s park now, and take care of her. She’ll leave it to them, I would imagine. It’s as big of a tourist draw as this place is. Maybe bigger.”

  “Yeah, we saw pictures of it in class,” George said.

  “Kurt and Mary went back to their park. It was badly damaged, but they got it fixed, and Mary started her medical practice up again. Kurt died a few years ago, so Mary sold the place and moved into town. She just retired from her practice a year ago.”

  “What about Jerry and Jasmine?”

  “Jerry got hired as a civilian consultant to General Hogan, and then started a data security company. They live in Washington DC. They’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “How about George and Malcolm?”

  “They went back to their private investigation agency in Southern California,” Jake said. “George and Heidi got married and she worked for the agency too. They had many adventures after the war. They’ll probably retire pretty soon.”

  “Doubt it,” Dobie said, walking out with a beer. “Vicki’s chatting with Trish.”

  “What happened to Frank and Jane?”

  “They went full time in their RV, and purchased several casitas. They’ve been going back and forth between them, but are looking to settle down now. Frank’s too old to drive anymore, and Jane’s close to that. They have a lot of grandkids now. All of them will be here for the reunion.”

  “Who else is there?” George asked.

  “Well, you know what happened to Ned,” Jake said. “He married Clara, and they settled down in Washington DC, near Jerry and Jasmine. Ned made it all the way to the Joint Chiefs.”

  “Don’t forget my uncle,” Terry said. “The Sheriff. He went back home, near Hilda’s park, and became Sheriff again for a little while. Died of a heart attack about six years ago. It was a shock. He was in good shape, strong as an ox, and then poof.” Terry’s eyes misted up.

  “That just leaves you and grandma,” George said.

  “Yes, we took this place over and ran it, plus started the paranormal investigation business, and wrote books. We’ll probably retire from running the park pretty soon, and concentrate on writing.”

  “You still live in that little old trailer,” George asked. “Why?”

  “It’s perfect for us, and remember that we have the run of this whole place. That trailer is small enough to fit into the barn during the winter. We mostly just sleep in there when it’s in the barn. We hang out in the Clubhouse, or in the lounge when we feel like we can take it.”

  “Take it?” George asked.

  “The spirits,” Jake said. “Maybe you shouldn’t put that in your report.”

  “Oh, grandpa, everybody knows about that. My friends ask me more about the ghosts than the war. And the Nighthawk Road Killer. And Black Dahlia.”

  “Some things never change,” Terry said, chuckling. His head snapped over towards the front of the park. “Here they come!”

  “Honey, our people are coming in,” Jake shouted, standing up.

  There was a long line of RVs rolling down the road, so long that they couldn’t see the end of it from the veranda. Trish and Vicki ran out to watch, followed by Frankie.

  “They’re coming home,” Jake said, pulling Frankie next to him.

  The End.

  If you liked this series, there’s a new one starting soon. It’s called The Dark Road. A few of the characters from Bug Out! will be back for the new series, plus plenty of new characters. Coming in early 2016!

  Copyright

  Bug Out! Part 13 copyright © 2015 by Robert G Boren. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any format without permission in writing from the copyright holder.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Thanks to Laura Thomas for editing this book!

  About the Author

  Robert G Boren is a writer from the South Bay section of Southern California. He writes Short Stories, Novels, and Serialized Fiction. Most of his work is about people from the South Bay.

  Other Books by Robert Boren

  Never A Loose End - The Franklin and Davis Files Book One

  Serial Killers. Maniac Ex-cops. CIA Assassins. White Slavers. Strippers

  In "Never A Loose End", they all come together, racing towards their frightening destiny.

  This is the story that started it all for George Franklin and Malcolm Davis. Some of you know them from the later episodes of the Bug Out! series, set seven years later. This is the story of how they met, and the battle that forged them into a formidable team.

  George and Malcolm are both targets, marked for death, but why?

  A clan of Serial Killers is active again, after hiding for years. What has brought them out?

  Follow George and Malcolm as they dash through the Southwest in their Motorhomes.

  Murder, gun battles, bombings, and general mayhem reign in "Never A Loose End"

  Who will survive? Will the hunted be brought down, or will they become the hunters instead?

  Find out in "Never A Loose End - The Franklin and Davis Files Book One"

  Note: This full length novel carries a hard R rating, unlike the PG-13 Bug Out! series. "Never A Loose End" contains graphic violence and sex. Discretion is advised.