Gangster Town by Fred Tribuzzo

Author:Fred Tribuzzo [Tribuzzo, Fred]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | EMP | Survival
Published: 2018-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

39

The Devil Walks the Streets

Unlike Predator with his potential heart problems, Fritz awoke the next morning run over by the flu. He had promised PJ Bob he would perform an engine run-up after replacing the spark plugs. Cricket found Lee Ann still sick and Sister Marie in the kitchen making tea for those under the weather.

“We need to go looking for mullein,” Sister said. “I know where to find it, and it’s way better than the tea I’m steeping right now.”

“I’ll go when I get back from the airport. I’ll be back by lunchtime.”

She checked on Fritz before leaving.

“Why don’t you take the bird flying?” He was covered by a blue quilt that Elaine had found in a spare bedroom closet. Her husband pulled the heavy quilt up to his neck and had his finger marking his place in a novel he was reading.

“Not interested,” she said, plopping down next to him, combing his hair back. “You get better and we’ll go up together. I need more instruction. It seems I have trouble distinguishing between the good guys and the bad guys.”

“Stop it,” Fritz said without much energy. “We were following our instincts.”

“I was following something, and it led me over a cliff.”

Fritz reached for her hand, lost his place in the book, and it fell off the bed. Cricket picked it up off the carpet: “Tarzan and the Golden Lion…”

“I found it in Mrs. Givens’ library.”

She smiled. “Tarzan lives in a black-and-white world.”

“Tarzan is a little more complex than you might think. He’d probably agree with me, air power isn’t always the answer.”

“Tempting to think otherwise”—she sighed—“when you’re taking in everything from God’s perspective.”

PJ Bob picked up Cricket from the mayor’s house to have her preflighting the Mustang by midmorning. The mechanic could have performed the run-up, but the guardsmen left the airport at random times for other duties and left most of the airport unprotected, except for two guards at the main entrance. PJ Bob would be standing by listening to the engine and maintaining vigilance with his shotgun and sidearm and Cricket would taxi and test the brakes.

Cricket was climbing into the cockpit when several vehicles came speeding onto the tarmac. She reached for her Colt and then stopped. Sergeant Wills.

Men and women jumped from the cars and flanked the sergeant, guns out, facing all directions.

“Is that two-way radio still working in the Mustang?” Sergeant Wills called to them when he was still some distance away.

“Yeah, fresh batteries,” PJ Bob announced.

“Cricket, we need you and the Mustang to back up our guys fighting at the Holiday Inn, three miles east of here.”

“Sergeant, my husband’s sick.”

“Then you fly the bird.”

“We work as a team… especially going after a target.”

“I can’t do much, but I can ride along, another pair of eyes,” PJ Bob said, walking over to Sergeant Wills. “I just need someone here to guard this hangar and Predator’s Cub.”

“You got it,” the sergeant said.

“Wait, you guys. No one is flying this bird unless Fritz is here.”

Both

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