Born in the Apocalypse 2: State Of Ruin by Joseph Talluto Read Free Book Online Page A

to get caught up in whatever the man was trying to do so I just complied as quickly as I could. The gun wasn’t mine, so what did I care, really?
    “Back away, back away, back away! Keep your hands where I can see them!”
    Seriously, this was getting silly. I stepped back, letting the man do what he needed to do. I wasn’t wanting trouble, I just wanted to get to my friend’s house and then with luck get out of here. I had a long ride home, and I sure wasn’t going to make it today.
    The man stepped forward, and I could see as he did the star on his shirt read ‘deputy,’ not sheriff. The other pin read ‘Mahome,’ which I assumed was his name. He picked up the rifle and checked the chamber, pulling the live round out of it. He swung the rifle around to his shoulder, and then faced me.
    “Who are you?” Mahome’s tone didn’t change much, but his volume did. He was a big man, clearly used to having some kind of authority over the people around him. My dad had described policemen like him, guys who didn’t really want to serve the public, just order it around. He spoke to me like he disapproved of my existence, which he clearly did.
    I found myself annoyed and not willing to be so subservient. “Nobody. Just visiting a friend.” I kept my eyes off of him, making it look like there were hundreds of other things more interesting than he was.
    “Who’s your friend?” Mahome asked, agitated because I was vague.
    “My business, thanks for asking. Anything else?” I said.
    Mahome stepped up close, nearly bumping my hat with his head.
    “Listen up, punk. I don’t need a reason to toss you in jail. This badge says I can do just about anything I want, get it? So when I ask you a question, you answer, get it ?” Mahome punctuated his speech by jabbing me in the chest with his finger.
    I really didn’t like that, and without even thinking, I put my hand up and shoved Mahome in the chest, using the strength I had from a lifetime of hard work to propel him backwards and causing him to fall on his butt. He landed hard, and the look on his face clearly showed he was not used to being resisted. His face turned nearly beet red and he grabbed at his gun.
    I walked away, since I saw that his gun had fallen out of its holster and had tumbled away out of his reach. Mahome scrambled around, and by the time he had found his gun, I was already too far away to cause another scene with. I noticed as I walked away that a lot of people who had seen the interaction were smiling. I think Deputy Mahome wasn’t as popular with the locals as I suspected he thought he was.
    It took me a minute, but eventually I found the Chambers’ house. It was a nice two-story building with several big trees and nice yard. I spent a good two hours there, catching up with Trey. Mrs. Chambers fussed over me the whole time, trying to feed me extra food and grabbing my shoulders, telling me she had no idea I was going to grow up to be such a big, handsome man.
    About mid-afternoon, I started to get uncomfortable, and I could see that the family was getting uncomfortable as well. I was a reminder of what they had left behind and what they had lost. They had come here to make a new beginning for their family, and I was part of the past.
    We said our goodbyes, and I walked out of their house right into a mess. Sheriff Bowers, with Deputy Mahome standing right next to him, were waiting for me as I left the Chambers’ house.
    “Stay where you are, you little shit!” Mahome growled, keeping a hand on his gun. Maybe he was afraid of losing it or something.
    “Easy, Jim,” Bowers said over his shoulder. He addressed me next. “Afternoon, son. Jim here says you assaulted him. What’s your side of the story?” Bowers was a man of about fifty, with a large grey mustache and deep blue eyes under bushy eyebrows. Those eyes swept me with an appraising glance, and lingered for a second on the part of my coat that covered my gun. He looked competent, and I