Stalling Armageddon (Nephilim Unbound Book 3) by Jason Caldwell

Author:Jason Caldwell [Caldwell, Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-04-08T16:00:00+00:00

“I promised Finn that we would stop in Lockhart. We can use the town to act as a base if necessary and ask around about the preacher and his revival. Do you have any objections?”

He was always so fucking punctilious. My brother was a bore.

“Nah, that’s fine. We’ll eat well and you can send your friend some food. No rush. Not like someone’s trying to end the fucking world or anything.”

I was paying attention to the road as I drove, but still saw him looking at me. “I’m joking. A day or two ain’t gonna matter. Let’s stop at your BBQ nirvana. You know it’s all bullshit, right? I grew up in the south. The best places are the little side of the road joints no one talks about.”

He just shrugged. “I’m not invested in his fascination with BBQ. I’m doing it because he is family, and he asked me to.”

Elizaveta piped up from the back seat. “I enjoy hot dogs and hamburgers. These were foreign in Russia.”

Burgers and dogs? That was an insult to good ‘Q. Maybe getting her an education wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“Fine. We’ll hit some places and try to get some info.”

It turned out that Lockhart was a small town. Very small. It also turned out that I was as wrong as I could be. They didn’t have commercial, crap BBQ. The worst places in the area had better than average ‘Q and the best places were outstanding. Texas is the land of beef BBQ, so that’s what we had.

A walking tour of Lockhart was too much for us by the time we were a little more than halfway done. We were large people with strong appetites, but we tapped out way too early. We started at Rileys, hit Chisholm Trail, and moved on to Black’s BBQ. Shoulder clod, brisket, sausage, beef and pork ribs and sides were just unmanageable at more than three places. We’d shared the platters in each, not bothering to get our own orders, and Alistair took photos of pits, the food, and pitmasters for Finn.

I didn’t care about much beyond the food. My body was craving meat and water. I felt anemic coming out of my ordeal and I listened to what my hunger told me. We’d stopped at Elgin, the so-called Sausage Capital of Texas, and I’d eaten well there as well. Something had changed in my physiology, or maybe I was just better at sensing things than I had been. I had a new aversion to overly processed food. Sausage makers or BBQ joints that had a relationship with the farms that raised their cattle pushed the right buttons to strengthen and ground my body.

As we left Black’s, I was still gnawing on one of their jalapeno cheddar sausages when I stopped dead in my tracks.

“Robert?” Elizaveta stood by my side.

I forced myself to breathe as I looked at the nearby Caldwell County Courthouse. Someone with the soulless smile of a politician was on the steps, photographers nearby as he shook hands with the preacher.

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