Yellowstone: Fallout: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (The Yellowstone Series Book 3) by Bobby Akart

Author:Bobby Akart [Akart, Bobby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Fruitvale West

Saratoga, California

“What was that all about?” Ashby asked as he she met him at the door. She had the foresight to have a bottle of water for Jake because he looked heated as he returned.

“These people are delusional. If we had a better place to go, I’d fire this thing up and leave now.”

“Screw them. We’ll find a place, Jake. You seem really pissed off and after what we’ve been through, we don’t need the aggravation.”

Jake exhaled and traded the clipboards for the water. He drained half the bottle before he came up for more air.

“It’ll work out,” he said breathlessly.

Ashby had been flipping through the pages of the clipboards. “This is an employment application. And then some doctor gave them his medical history forms. They wanna know if I am, or plan to be, pregnant. Are they out of their minds?”

Jake began laughing heartily and led Ashby to the bench seat of the living area. He patted the seat and motioned for her. He could see the blood boiling inside of her and there was no need to fuel each other’s fire. “Come here.”

She crossed her arms in front of her. “No. This is stupid. Let’s just go.”

“Ashby, please. Besides, you don’t even know the half of it.” Jake patted the seat again and she slowly made her way to sit by him.

“There’s more?” she asked, turning to face him.

Jake looked around the Bounder at everything they’d accumulated. “Yes. They want us to turn over all of our supplies, weapons, ammo. Everything except one gun per person.”

Ashby stared at Jake for a few seconds. Then she started laughing. It wasn’t a hearty, ha-ha-that-joke-was-funny laugh. Ashby’s laugh was somewhat demented as if she was turning into something evil.

“Screw this. We’re leaving!” She threw the clipboards toward the opening in the motor home’s door but missed the mark. She stomped toward the driver’s seat and slid behind the wheel. Then, out of frustration, she demanded, “Where are the keys?”

“In my pocket,” replied Jake calmly. “It’s a habit. Listen, Ashby. Please trust me on this. We’ll work this out. I have an idea.”

“Give me the keys, Jake Wheeler. I’ll be glad to discuss it with you while we drive toward Mexico.”

Jake laughed and came to her side. He playfully wrenched her death grip from the steering wheel and pulled her out of the seat. Then he wrapped her in his arms.

“We’re gonna stay and make them think they we’re complying with their demands, but of course we won’t be.”

“How do we avoid giving away all of our stuff? Those vultures will be shaking us down as soon as we roll through their gate.”

“First, let’s give them their stupid paperwork and we’ll find a place where we can talk. They won’t give us an answer until four this afternoon anyway.”

“Jeez, are they gonna do an FBI background check?”

Jake chuckled as he grabbed two ink pens out of the glovebox. He settled Ashby back on the bench seat and put her stack of papers back on the clipboard.

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