Survivalist - 04 The Doomsayer by Jerry Ahern

Author:Jerry Ahern [Ahern, Jerry]
Format: epub
Publisher: Jerry Ahern

The phrase, "My fellow Americans.. ." and how he'd thought of it earlier as the roach climbed around the palm tree beyond the fences, came to his mind. Rubenstein stood there, crying, his right fist wrapped tightly on the Schmeisser. ?Chapter 28

Sarah Rourke stood at the wheel of the fishing boat, glancing shoreward, trying to see if she could still locate Mr. Coin in the darkness. She couldn't. "It was rough, wasn't it, Mrs. Rourke?" Harmon Kleinschmidt asked her.

She looked down at the young man seated at her feet as she stood before the controls.

Before she answered him, she looked back to the stern on the tarp that covered the blood from the dead soldier she could see Michael and Annie, already dozing.

She looked down at Kleinschmidt, saying, "My name is Sarah. You don't need to call me Mrs. Rourke I'm not that much older than you are. Yes, it was rough, I suppose."

"I saw them bloodstains. You had to kill somebody, didn't you?"

"I thought gentlemen didn't ask questions like that."

"I ain't a gentleman that much and you sure ain't either, Sarah."

She looked away from the waters ahead of her, and down at the young man again. "What do you mean?" she asked, still cold in her wet things despite the blanket wrapped around her now.

"I'll just come right out with it. What you told me, I don't think it's fair to you or them kids to go on doin' what you're doin'. You need a man to take care of all of you. I guess I'm sort of volunteerin'. I like you a lot Sarah."

Her cheeks felt hot. She didn't know what to say to the man the boy, she thought. He wasn't more than twenty-five, if that.

"That's sweet of you, Harmon."

"Ain't sweet of me, Sarah. I mean what I say."

"A lot of men feel that way about somebody who's helped them, like a nurse for example."

"It ain't that," he told her flatly.

"Well, you just rest," she began.

I'm sick of restin' sick of this whole War, the whole damned thing."

"So am I," she said, honestly. "I killed a man with a knife just a little bit ago. My boy, Michael, killed a man. I've killed other people since the Night of the War. We've been cold, sick, wet, dirty; we've gone without sleep. All of it."

"I hear that northeastern Canada didn't get hit much. Fella I met had come down from there, missed the Commies all the way. New York City he heard was all gone, but up in northeastern Canada it was still like before. Ain't nothin' there the Communists would want, I guess too cold. But a man could have a good life up there, with the right woman, with kids like them."

Sarah looked down at him and wished he weren't sitting so close to her feet. "How far is the island?"

"You still on the compass heading I worked out?"

"Uh-huh."

"Maybe twenty minutes or so. Just keep them runnin' lights out so the patrol boats don't spot us. I figure we could take this boat and make it pretty far up into Canada leave all this behind us.

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