Suicide Six_Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Fiction Page 13
One by one, the families of the ranch hands, some of whom had given their lives fighting Holloway’s gang, emerged from the depths of the bunker to breathe in the fresh morning air. Preacher’s quick thinking had given them the opportunity to live through the attack. The Armstrong family’s will to survive had defeated a more powerful enemy, which allowed the innocents emerging from the bunker to live another day.
Chapter 27
January 24
The East Woods
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
Major and Riley arrived at the bottom of the ravine, where they dismounted and walked their horses toward the campsite. Major lit up the path and was sure to announce himself as he approached. He was certain his lovely wife would follow the axiom don’t shoot ’til you see the whites of their eyes, an order first given by American Colonist William Prescott at the Battle of Bunker Hill during the War for Independence. Under the tense circumstances, he thought it prudent to speak out to her before she could get a clean shot at him.
“Major, is everyone okay?” a concerned Lucy shouted back before they could see one another.
“Everybody’s fine,” he replied as he handed the reins to Riley and rushed to his wife’s side.
He gingerly held her and whispered into her ear, “I love you.”
Lucy, who was exhausted, whispered that she loved him back. Throughout their marriage, a day hadn’t passed where they didn’t exchange a kiss and a promise of love. This day would be no different.
Major immediately became concerned for her well-being. “Darlin’, you look so weak. Let me get you some water.”
Lucy didn’t object as her husband began to take care of her. Major propped her up further and retrieved a water bottle from the truck. He held it for her as she thirstily drank it down.
“I tried to give some to Preach, and it slipped out of my hands and rolled under the tree over there. My arms hurt too much to crawl around him.”
“It’s okay. We’re here now,” said Major as Riley approached his mother’s side. Always emotional, tears streamed down his face as he hugged her. They held each other for half a minute before Lucy spoke.
“All the kids are safe? You promise?”
“We promise, Momma. We did great up there. They stayed behind to help the families out of the bunker.”
Lucy nodded, and her eyes shut for a moment.
Major knew she was physically drained. He whispered to Riley, “Son, get the truck ready. We need to get your mom in a place where she can rest and we can watch over her. I’m gonna see about Preacher.”
Lucy raised her arm slightly. “Major, he’s in a bad way. He only woke up one time to moan and speak incoherently about being sorry for what he’d done. I couldn’t make most of it out.”
Major took her hand and kissed it before placing it back on her lap. He stood to walk around the two prone patients and knelt down next to his best friend. Major looked around for a towel near the medical supplies and found a washcloth. He poured some water over it and gently wiped the sweat off Preacher’s brow.
“He’s burning up from fever,” mumbled Major as Lucy watched.
The cool water stimulated Preacher, who slowly opened his eyes and looked up to Major’s face. “How’d we do?” he asked in a raspy voice before having a coughing fit.
Major held his head up and allowed some of the water to trickle into his mouth and throat.
Preacher managed a smile and nodded his appreciation.
“We got ’em, Preach. Thank you for saving our family.”
Preacher tried to shrug, but the wince on his face showed it was too painful. The moisture in his mouth and the presence of Major by his side granted him the ability to find his voice. “We could’ve run away and left it all behind, but the ranch is a part of us all.”
“Well, thanks to you, my friend and brother, we saved the ranch and our family’s lives. Now my job is to get you fixed up and back in the saddle.”
A tear flowed from Preacher’s right eye as he shook his head from side to side. “Nah. It’s my time now. God’s ready to take me, I hope.”
“No, Preach. Please hold on until I can get you some help.”
Preacher lifted his left arm and reached for Major’s hand. Major took it in his and squeezed, urging his friend to be strong.
“Listen up, boss. Goodbyes aren’t the end. You and I will meet again in Heaven.”
“Of course we will, Preach. All of us will, but not yet. Can you hang on?”
Preacher ignored his question and continued. “We both knew this day would come. Life’s about changin’, ’cause nothin’ ever stays the same.”
Major realized Preacher was slipping away. There was so much to say, and he didn’t know where to start. All he could do was encourage his friend to embrace his fate.
“I know, Preach. God brought us together, and I know He has plans for us both. I want you to know how thankful I’ve been to have someone like you in my life. That’s what makes saying goodbye so hard.”
Lucy was leaning on her son, and both were sniffling as tears poured out of their eyes. Preacher looked over to them and smiled before he turned his attention back to Major.
He managed his final words. “I was born a Texan and I will die on Texas soil. God blessed Texas, and he blessed me with your friendship and brotherhood. Stay Texas Strong.”
Preacher Caleb O’Malley gave Major’s hand a final squeeze, lowered his head against the ground, and closed his eyes for the final time. He was at peace.
Chapter 28
January 24
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
The dawn of the new day brought a hectic combination of cleanup, rejuvenation, and, finally, a time to mourn those lost in the battle for Armstrong Ranch.
Palmer and Sook took control of their home. Several of the women who had survived in the bunker joined them in cleaning up the mess left behind. The bodies of the dead commandos were dragged off the ranch property and piled on the north side of the river. Then they were burned without ceremony or any words on their behalf.
Holloway, at Duncan’s insistence, was the last one thrown on the pile. “Let the dead lie at his feet,” he’d said as he supervised the funeral pyre. As the flames shot into the sky and the smell of flesh filled the air, Holloway’s eye stared at Duncan, who glared back at the man who’d caused so much death and destruction in his life. Holloway was a disgrace to his country, his military career, and himself. He’d surely rot in hell.
As Duncan mounted up and began his ride back to the ranch, he heard the sound of vehicles approaching from the gravel road leading toward Gail. He rode up a slight hill where he could get a better look. It was the cavalry, so to speak. A little late, but there nonetheless.
Espy had arrived with his men from Camp Lubbock. They’d taken all night to round up the gunmen who’d held the counselors and kids at Boys Town hostage. Only one of Espy’s men had suffered a minor flesh wound, and he was pleased to report all of the hostages were safe.
Duncan thanked him for coming and insisted he get back to Camp Lubbock to provide security. Espy reassured his commander that all was well in hand. After the operation had ended at Boys Town around dawn, he’d explained to the men the reason for Duncan’s departure. To a man, they’d demanded to drive down to the ranch to help, regardless of the consequences to Camp Lubbock.
Espy, emboldened by their unit’s attitude, contacted their command at Fort Hood to advise them they had another mission, and they needed to pull some of the soldiers off the border fence detail to cover security at Camp Lubbock. Despite receiving pushback, Espy insisted they’d resign their posts if command didn’t make it happen.
Duncan laughed as he told Espy he might be brought up on charges of desertion. Espy didn’t care. His friendship with Duncan and the Armstrong family mattered most to him.
With his men’s help, Duncan searched the entire ranch and surrounding areas, looking
for stray commandos. After an hour, they were confident the ranch was safe, but Espy’s men set up formidable perimeter security nonetheless.
After some much-needed rest, Major gathered his family in the living room of the ranch house. The furniture had been removed, and the blood had been scrubbed off the floors. A fire roared in the fireplace to allow some heat during the clear, crisp afternoon.
“Everyone, we need to bury our own today. This is a very difficult time for all of us, as well as those who fall within our care and live on the Armstrong Ranch. As you know, we have a family cemetery in the pecan grove down by the river near the windmill. In the history of our ranch, no one has been buried there unless they were an Armstrong. I propose to change that today.”
Lucy, who was feeling much better after eight solid hours of sleep, was standing on her own with one arm in a sling and the other bandaged up to protect her burnt skin from exposure. She smiled and nodded at her husband to encourage him to continue.
“We lost seven ranch hands last night. Honest, hard-working men who came to Texas looking for a better life for their families. Some of them met their spouses here and raised their children as Americans right here on our soil. When the time came, they fought to protect this ranch, their families, and ours as well. They died heroes, in my opinion, and as such, they deserve to be buried on our ranch alongside our ancestors.”
“I agree, Daddy,” said Palmer. “I don’t look at these families as employees. They’re all my brothers and sisters. I’ve grown up with them and played together with many of them as a kid. Their sacrifice should be honored no differently than if they were one of us.”
“Absolutely,” added Riley. Cooper provided a thumbs-up, and Duncan simply nodded.
“It’s settled, then,” continued Major. “I know we’re all exhausted regardless of the little bit of rest we managed this afternoon, but I think it would be appropriate for us to prepare their graves rather than calling on others. Do y’all agree?”
Everyone enthusiastically joined in the process. Palmer and Sook created wooden signs with the names of the dead written on them. Major and his sons dug the graves for the ranch hands, but they saved a special spot for Preacher nearest the windmill. After an hour, the graves were ready, and everyone on the ranch was invited to pay their final respects.
When the last shovel of dirt was reverently dropped on the last of the ranch hands, Major led everyone to Preacher’s gravesite. Antonio had slipped away and hustled back to the ranch house alone. Inside the same old wagon he’d used to pull kids around the yard at Christmas, Preacher’s body rested peacefully awaiting burial. The guys had retrieved one of his suits from his house as well as his well-worn Bible, which they tucked inside his jacket.
As everyone gathered around Preacher’s grave, Antonio led Preacher’s horse and the wagon along the driveway. The clippity-clop of the horse’s hooves on the packed-gravel surface caught everyone’s attention.
Major and his sons walked to the rear of the wagon and slid Preacher’s body onto a makeshift stretcher made of poles and canvas. The onlookers parted as the men carried his body to the grave and gently dropped him in. Once in place, Lucy, with the help of Palmer and Sook, approached the grave and knelt down. She gently placed Preacher’s hat on his chest before she broke down in tears.
Lucy began to sob over the loss of a man who’d been the glue that had held the ranch together for years. She’d anticipated this moment all night, but now that it was upon her, the emotions overwhelmed her.
Major came to his wife’s side and whispered in her ear, “He’s with God now, my love. Let’s take comfort in knowing he’s watching over us and lending God a hand in making sure we stay strong.”
Lucy looked into her husband’s eyes and allowed a slight nod coupled with a smile. She raised her arm so Major could assist her to stand. She stayed by his side to give him strength to deliver the eulogy.
“Everyone, as a family, we have suffered terrible losses in the last day. Together, we’re going through the process of saying goodbye to our loved ones, but it doesn’t mean goodbye forever. We are simply saying that we’ll miss them, and we will all be together again.
“Our life is different from others’. We are all Texans and cowboys. We’re grateful for this earth, dependent upon it for survival, and thankful to God for providing us the opportunity to serve Him while here.”
Major stopped as he became choked up. His eyes welled up in tears, and he quickly wiped them away with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand.
Lucy squeezed his arm and whispered to him, “It’s okay, dear. Speak to us, and God, from the heart.
“I’m not too good at prayin’, Lord, so you may not know me as well as Miss Lucy. I haven’t been inside a church in a long time, but You have seen me through the eyes of my dearest friend, who I now lay to rest before You.
“Preacher was Your loyal, devoted follower, who was also my mentor in the Word. There was many a day when we would ride the ranch, discussing life and the Hereafter. Preacher taught me to turn my life over to You. To have comfort in the plans You have for me. To know that You’ll always give me the strength to face any danger that faces my family.
“God, Preacher was right and truthful when he encouraged me with Your words. He was an unselfish man who always gave of himself. So much so, in fact, that one of the things he regretted most in life was also an act of kindness that saved the lives of a woman and her precious daughter. That experience, Lord, gave him the strength to minister to me, and to save the lives of everyone who stands around his body today.”
Major stopped, look skyward, and took a deep breath before continuing. “Lord, Preacher has ridden his last dusty trail and run his last herd of cattle. He can no longer enjoy the smells of spring brought by Your bluebonnets, green grass, and fresh rain.
“With each hill and valley he’s traveled, and all those miles of roamin’ this ranch, Preacher has lived a life that brought our family joy. He’s been our rock, steadfast in the Word and his trust in You. I can only pray that I might live my life to be half the man that our dear friend Preacher Caleb O’Malley has been.”
Major began to sob once again as he fell to his knees at Preacher’s grave. He began to slowly scoop up handfuls of dirt and allowed it to slip through his fingers onto Preacher’s body. He sighed and found the emotional strength to finish.
“My friend, may your horse never stumble and your spurs never rust. I will miss you until we meet again. God bless.”
Miss Lucy joined Major on the ground with Palmer’s help. Soon, everyone was gathered around on their knees, sniffling and crying as they said their farewell to a man who’d brought them together and shared his heart with this extended family.
After his grave was filled and the goodbyes said, Major assisted Antonio in untying the reins of Preacher’s horse from the back of the wagon. A saddle remained on the horse with Preacher’s boots reversed in the stirrups. Duncan moved forward to rub the horse’s ears and cheeks. As everyone gathered around, Duncan turned to speak.
“A riderless horse has long been a tribute to warriors and fallen soldiers in military parades. For centuries, placing a fallen comrade’s boots in the stirrups of the riderless horse was done to honor those who’ve sacrificed their lives in battle.
“Preacher was a warrior worthy of this honor. He lived his life as a cowboy, and now he’s buried like one. But he also stood strong against a powerful enemy when the odds were overwhelmingly against us. His quick thinking and unselfish bravery saved the lives of everyone standing here today.
“Preacher lived life the right way. He loved this land and the people who live on it. He stayed true to God and Texas. He was a man of his word and a warrior at heart. For these reasons, I salute him and honor his memory with his horse’s final ride.”
Duncan snuggled on Preacher’s horse again and then took the reins. He began walking the riderless horse back toward the ranch house, with the group following close behind. As the sun
began to set over West Texas, another day in the life of the Armstrong Family came to an end, culminating with their final farewell to an old friend.
PART TWO
Chapter 29
January 25
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
Major woke up first the next morning and made his way through the cold house to the kitchen. They didn’t turn on the generators to create heat but opted instead to burrow under mounds of wool blankets accumulated over the years. The first order of business was to fire up the generator dedicated to the kitchen appliances so he could start a pot of coffee. Next up was a roaring fire to create some heat in the house.
With the fire beginning to grow in intensity and a hot mug of coffee in his hands, he stood at the glassless living room window and stared into the front yard at the remnants of the burned-out barn.
Where the heck do we start? Major thought to himself. It was easy to lose hope considering the circumstances and the resultant loss of life. From the moment he’d arrived to gunfire killing his state trooper escorts the evening before last until the burial of his best friend, it was hard to think about anything except the last 36 Hours.
His priority was enduring the challenges presented by protecting his family and getting their home back. He was committed to one thing and one thing only—survival. Plans for the future, including the offer to become vice president of Texas, had not only been put on hold, but shut out of his mind completely. The last two days he’d focused on getting through from one hour to the next, as physical challenges on the field of battle gave way to emotional ones as the family dealt with death and loss.