Showdown At Chimney Rock_Sarah's Run by Rich Baker & Phalanx Press

Author:Rich Baker & Phalanx Press [Baker, Rich & Press, Phalanx]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780998828237
Publisher: Phalanx Press
Published: 2019-01-28T22:00:00+00:00

Ram escaped custody before Beaumont Medical Center fell to the infected. Last seen with a paramilitary/mercenary force. His family is in California; believed to be his objective.

Light snow began falling as the temperature dipped below thirty degrees. Kelly brought out plates of steak and mashed potatoes for the denizens of Frenchy’s.

“It’s venison steak. Hope that’s okay with you folks.”

Duckett perked up. “Why wouldn’t that be okay? It sounds amazing!”

“Well, some folks don’t like it. Say it tastes gamey.”

“Those people are ungrateful snobs. This looks great. Thank you, again, for taking such good care of us.”

“It’s my pleasure. We appreciate what you all are doing for us.” Kelly smiled at Duckett and headed back into the kitchen.

Aaron started cutting his steak. “I appreciate the food, but what is it, exactly we’re doing? It feels like we’re just hanging out.”

Duckett took a sip of Frank’s coffee. “Once Frank is done translating this thing, we’re going to figure out how to get the information into the hands of someone in the government who can take action on it. Depending what it says, of course.”

“Yeah, kid,” Frank said through a mouthful of venison, some of the juice dribbling into his beard as he spoke. “We’re saving the world! One day they’ll write songs about us and shower us with riches!”

The door swung open, and Charlie and Robin came in, each carrying a box filled with food from the van. Charlie stomped his feet to get the snow off his boots before advancing into the room, and Robin did the same. They took the boxes to the counter.

“Where do you want these, Kelly?” Charlie asked.

She nodded to a spot off to the side. “Just set them over there. Thanks again; that’s awfully nice of you folks. Grab a seat, I’ll bring you some dinner.”

The man in the camouflage vest sat at a table by the big tree trunk support pole. He thrust a Dixie cup out to both Robin and Charlie.

“Here,” he offered. “This will warm you up!”

They both looked in their respective cups, saw the dark fluid inside, and tilted them back.

“Smooth, ain’t it?” the man asked.

Charlie had one eye closed, letting the heat from the liquor finish its journey down to his feet and back. “Shit, friend, what is that?”

“Moonshine, Charlie! Didn’t you get that over in Hobb’s Valley?” Robin teased him. She looked the man in the eye. “I didn’t catch your name before.”

“Name’s Carl. And you’re right, it’s from my own distillery. I’ve got a cabin with a rig up toward Jones Mountain. I make about five barrels a year. I’ll give you a couple of bottles for that food y’all gave us.”

“Thanks, Carl, but it’s our pleasure. You all have put us up all day, fed us, made us feel welcome. It’s the least we could do,” Robin said.

“Still, I’d like to give you a couple,” he persisted.

Charlie had both eyes open again. “Tell you what, Carl, you help me get another couple boxes, and we’ll make it a trade.

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