Lines in the Sand_Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction by Bobby Akart

Author:Bobby Akart [Akart, Bobby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 34

December 6

The Armstrong Ranch

Borden County, Texas

Major and Preacher rode along the dirt roads among the silent oil wells. The men were deep in thought as they contemplated the world in which they lived. The Armstrong Ranch continued to function as it did on a normal day. The same couldn’t be said for others around Texas. Despite avoiding the devastation wrought by the EMP attack and the subsequent nuclear bombs, many of the state’s residents were starting to experience food shortages and a medical crisis, as evidenced by the dead foreman at the Reinecke Operating Station.

“Pops used to talk about the days following Pearl Harbor,” said Major, breaking the silence. “News wasn’t readily available at the time. Folks listened to the radio, mostly. I remember studying about it in grade school. Our military was caught totally unprepared. The Japanese tore us up.”

“A date that will live in infamy,” said Preacher, shaking his head in disgust. “I guess they’ll call the day the EMP dropped something along that line. Or will it be when the nukes started flying past? Those were both far worse than Pearl Harbor.”

Major urged his horse up a slight incline, and Preacher followed close behind.

“Yeah, I suppose it’s all relative,” said Major as they approached Wildcat Creek, which was dry from lack of rain or snow. “We all have our own personal day of infamy, right?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve had mine,” said Preacher dryly. They rode a little farther, through the dry creek bed, when Preacher continued. “You’ve known me a long time, Major.”

“I have.”

“Yet you’ve never asked me why I left the church and quit preachin’,” added Preacher.

“I figured you’d get around to it when you were ready, and if you thought it was important for me to know.”

Preacher blurted it out. “I killed a man.”

“Okay,” said Major unemotionally. “I kinda gathered that for the first time when you threatened that fellow the other night at the barnyard.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, you were real angry, Preach. You said, ‘I’ve killed before and I will kill you, God help my soul.’”

Preacher looked Major in the eyes. “I said that?”

“Yessir. Your words, not mine.”

“I must’ve been pretty dang mad.”

Major laughed. “That you were.”

Preacher took a deep breath. Major sensed his old friend was troubled. At any given time before Major retired from Company C of the Texas Rangers, he could’ve performed an extensive background check on Preacher, but he didn’t. What he might find wouldn’t outweigh the things he knew about the man he trusted with his and his family’s lives.

“Major, you know, when I was the preacher at Mount Zion Baptist, the congregation really liked me. They trusted me too. Too often, they’d come to me with their troubles like they were confessin’ to a Catholic priest.”

“I could see that,” interrupted Major. “You’re a pretty good listener.”

“Well, I reckon I was a little too good. I would get personally involved in their troubles. I’d sit down and counsel mothers on how to deal with their kids. I’d offer to mediate disputes between business partners.

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