Home Coming (The Survivalist Book 10), A. American [interesting books to read in english .TXT] 📗

of it is knee deep but there are deeper pockets. It used to be a fun place to go till the Forestry Service shut it down because the rednecks would leave too much trash, beer bottles and shit like that.”

“I think we should do something like this once a week. Give everyone something to look forward to.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said as I set the cooler on the picnic table beside the grill.

“What’s a plan?” Sarge asked.

“We need to do something like this once a week. No reason not to,” I replied.

Sarge thought about it for a minute. He looked out at the spring where Perez was standing in the water with his pants legs rolled up. He was leaned over splashing the cool water on his arms and wiping the back of his neck. He nodded his head and said, “I think that’s a fine idea. Everyone’s had a great time today. It’s good to get out and have a change of scenery.”

“Oh, my Lord!” Miss Kay said. “Look at all these fish!”

Thad smiled. “Yes ma’am. Me and Morgan loaded the box.”

“We’ll have a wonderful fish fry tomorrow night. Nothing beats fresh fish,” Kay said. “I’ve got everything we need. I’ll even make cornbread.”

“I’ll fix us up a pot of green beans, like Momma used to make,” Thad added.

“That’d be wonderful, Thad. You are a good cook.”

Thad blushed, as was his custom when paid a compliment. “I learned from Momma and my grandmother.”

Kay patted his shoulder, “They taught you well.”

As the light began to fade, we pulled out of the springs on our way home. There was no hurry this time as we again rode with the windows open. After spending all day in the water, we were much cooler and the air blowing by us felt pleasant. When we turned onto Highway 19, it was nearly sunset, and the stars were beginning to come out. The sky was clear, so I was surprised when I heard the distant sound of thunder.

Looking at Mel, I asked, “Do you hear that?”

“Sounds like thunder,” she replied as she looked up. “But I don’t see any clouds.”

Before I could answer, the radio crackled to life.

During World War II the Soviets developed a new weapon, the Katyusha multiple rocket launcher. The weapon terrified the Germans that came under its fire. They called it Stalin’s organ because of its resemblance to a pipe organ. The rockets made a terrible screaming sound when launched and instilled fear in the hearts of anyone that heard it.

The weapon has been steadily upgraded over the years. The current system is called the Grad. In Russian it means hail and is a good description of what the weapon does. The current version carries forty rockets that are a little longer than nine feet. They can carry a variety of warheads with a range of between twelve and nineteen miles. The warheads ranged from high explosive to incendiary.

The thunder we were hearing was from three of these units sitting on the eastern shore of Lake Beauclair just south of Eustis. Each machine fired its forty-rocket load, one-hundred-twenty rockets. They carried a mixed load, two with high explosive warheads and the last with the incendiary type.

Sarge called for a halt and we stopped in the middle of the road. Everyone got out of the vehicles and stood in the road looking south. We couldn’t see Eustis from where we were, but we could clearly hear it.

“What is that awful noise?” Kay asked.

The old man stood looking south and replied, “It’s artillery hitting Eustis from the sound of it. I think that helicopter we saw earlier was getting solid coordinates.”

Cecil gave out a low whistle, “It sounds like hell.”

Sarge nodded. “It is.” He looked around and called Doc. “Get in the MRAP; we’re going to town.”

Chris Yates had drawn a straw to come on this trip as well and he moved quickly to collect his gear and follow Doc.

I ran to the Suburban and grabbed my gear. I was in shorts and flip flops, but I was going too. Mel didn’t question me when I kissed her, saying, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She nodded and looked down the road, in the direction of the sound. “I’ll get the girls home and wait for you.”

I climbed into the back of the MRAP with Perez, Ian, Doc, Aric and Cecil. Jamie was driving as usual. As we drove towards the sounds of the still-rumbling explosions, Doc started going through his bag. He asked who had tourniquets on them. I started to pull mine out, but he stopped me. “Keep it. You’ll probably find someone to use it on.”

The sound of thunder stopped as we passed through Umatilla. But Eustis was now just ahead, and I heard Jamie take a sharp breath. “Oh my God.”

I leaned forward and saw what shocked her. It looked like the road disappeared into a wall of flames. Thick columns of smoke rose high into the sky and the dark horizon was illuminated with the light of the fires consuming Eustis. I’d seen videos like this. Videos of neighborhoods decimated by combat in far flung places around the world. But it was the kind of thing I saw on TV, not in my community.

We found the guards at the barricade on the north side of town in a ditch on the side of the road, near where the old man had fished a gator out of the canal. The stunned men and two women climbed up out of the ditch when we stopped. They were obviously in shock and stared down the road towards town.

As evening was already approaching, the heavy smoke blocked out even more of the fading light, casting a sense of doom over everything. As Americans, we weren’t used to seeing this sort of thing on our own land. Of course, we knew it happened and that our own military conducted just this sort of operation around the world; but