Murphy's Law (Roads Less Traveled Book 2) (38 page)

We finished around suppertime, and just in time to see two Jeeps coming down the long driveway. Waters was absent this time, replaced by a few privates. They had some supplies for us, much needed fuel for the generators, some sweets for the kids which Nancy was
not
happy about, and some food, not much though because we were pretty well stocked as far as that went. They had brought several cases of bottled water, we told them to take those back. The Winchester ran off of well water, and Michael had checked the status of it when the townspeople had first started setting this place up as a fall-back location. It was in good shape and had plenty of water, and with the generators, we were in no danger of running out anytime soon.

They also brought cases of ammunition, various seeds for a vegetable garden and three hundred pounds of grain for my horse.

Yeah, I could kill some deadheads for this. No problem. Where do I sign up?

“Can you believe this?” Mia said as we carried box after box of supplies into the house.

Everyone helped, but Nancy and Michael supervised in the foyer, making us drop everything off there so they could inventory it and decide where it should go. After it was all brought inside, Michael gave one private a short list of “specialty items,” mostly consisting of clothing, sizes included, barbed wire, and other assorted fencing material. Then with a pleasant farewell they were off, driving their Jeeps slowly though the yard, down the drive, and back out the gate, kindly stopping to close it securely behind them. Later that night after the kids were all asleep and the house was quiet, after chatting easily with my friends old and new, soaking in a hot tub with Gus on the floor snoring, I went to bed with a clear mind and a light heart.

This must be what it feels like to fall into a pile of shit and come out smelling like a rose.

Little did I know, the hardest times were still ahead of us.