Eliot Strange and the Prince of the Apocalypse

47) Finding Some Old Friends

The world has gone to hell in a handbasket, just like Nana's old saying, but Nana also used to say that God is good. Today, God is good because things seem to be going our way. We have the weapons, including several grenades, and we have some people to help us get our friends back, if there are any friends to get back. Two blocks before we get back to our high school we are waved down by two people we had all but forgotten about - Clay and Sorenson. They are with about fifteen men and women.

"Been over in Dobson, recruiting," says Clay in explanation. "Heard the gunfire when we got close. What the hell happened? You two ok? How'd you get out?"

Before I can speak, a young girl about fifteen or so says, "I'm Marla. Marla Southern. We're here to help save the prince. Is he ok?"

I shake my head. "He is gone. Safe. But, we don't know about the others." I turn to Clay and Sorenson, "We weren't there. We don't know, but we have some extra weapons, and you guys are here now."

"More's on the way," says Clay, "but One Nation is coming too. They got held up in Pilot. Some of our boys engaged them there. We might have time to extract our people and get out of here, but we got to act fast. We need some quick intel. Need to know what's going on. Sorenson, take Marla. Go up ahead. See what you can find out. We'll set up a staging area in the back parking lot of the football field. Let's synchronize our watches. Meet you there in an hour."

"Do you think we can do this Clay?" asks Steven. "I've never killed anybody before." He looks around at the teenagers and older people with Clay now, most of whom look like housewives and shopkeepers and fresh faced teens younger than me.

Clay says with more confidence than I am guessing he believes, "We'll be fine. Got some athletes with us and some retired military. We'll be fine. We just got to have a plan. Can I have a look at what you got in that bag?"

I show him Grandpa George's bag of weapons. Clay pulls the weapons out and lines them up. Clay looks up with a smile on his face and a grenade in his hand. "Steven, I saw you pitch in high school. I missed the no hitter game, but I heard about it." He grins. "Might be time to call in somebody from the bullpen."

Steven grins back and points at a couple of the younger guys with Clay. "And here's some other ballplayers. Tommy and Kyle. Looks like we got a good team together here, Clay."

Tommy and Kyle puff their chests out and Tommy says, "Twenty two strikeouts last season."

"One of 'em was me," laughs Steven.

It all feels like some kind of reunion or pre-game pep rally. Clay is our coach, and we are the players.

I pray silently that we don't all get killed. At least we have a home field advantage.