Survive by Todd Sprague Read Free Book Online Page B

at her and shook his finger at her. “No coffee for you!” He smiled affectionately and ruffled the dog’s head.
    Walking out to the car, John scanned the area. Nothing seemed to be amiss. “Yet,” he said to no one in particular. John opened the hatch of the station wagon and carried the rest of the supplies inside. It took three trips but he nodded in satisfaction as he took inventory.
    With the food and water in the basement, and the little bit left over in the kitchen from their last getaway, as well as the guns and ammunition he already had here at the cabin, he estimated they had at least six months of food for the three of them, several rifles, carbines, pistols, and several thousand rounds of ammunition of each caliber for which he had a weapon. Including the dead trooper’s rifle, he had three AR 15s in various configurations, four AK 47s, two M14s, each with a long range scope and beautifully polished wood, and two 12 gauge pump shotguns with pistol grips.
    He also had a deadly little Heckler and Koch MP5 he’d acquired two years earlier when he’d finally managed to get a machine gun license. Hard to get, even for a police officer, but he’d jumped through all the hoops and paid all of the fees to get the license, and then paid an exorbitant amount for the little 9mm submachine gun. He’d spared no expense outfitting it with a laser and a red dot scope.
    Aside from the rifles and carbines, he had several pistols, including his Sig Sauer P220, two other .45s, three Glocks in 9mm, two in .40, and two .357 magnum revolvers.
    Sara’s own little arsenal was still packed in one of the duffel bags. A Glock 19 and a Beretta CX4 Storm 9mm carbine. The little pistol caliber carbine was Sara’s solution to big bulky rifles that, as she put it, “sucked to shoot”. John chuckled as he took the Storm out of the duffel bag and placed it on the rack by the door. He put the empty duffel bags down in the basement. When he came back up, he found Sara in her robe, pouring coffee in to two big white mugs.
    “Good morning, sweetheart,” John said. “I hope you slept ok.”
    “You mean after you stopped thrashing and growling in your sleep?” Sara asked, handing John a steaming cup of black coffee. The aroma almost made John’s eyes water in pleasure.
    “Yeah, after that.” Smiling ruefully, John sipped at the hot coffee. “Oh man, that’s good.”
    They sipped coffee in silence for a few moments. Sara pulled a cast iron skillet from a cupboard and began pouring flour into a bowl. “Pancakes?”
    “Only if we have real syrup,” John said. “End of the world comes along, I’ll be damned if I’m going to eat that fake shit.”
    Sara laughed, pulling out a tin jug of John’s uncle Patrick’s homemade maple syrup and shaking it at him. “You’re safe this time.”
    A few minutes later, the couple sat at a battered, hand made wooden table eating pancakes and sipping coffee. They continued to smile at each other as they ate. Finally, John pushed his plate away from him and stood up.
    “Well, time to get to it. Let’s head over to my dad’s house and see what we have to work with.”
    “John, I don’t want to sound like a jerk but what are you going to do? I mean, what are any of us going to do?” Sara put her hand on John’s arm.
    “I don’t know. But we can’t do nothing. It’s only been a couple days since these things showed up out west. They spread too fast. We have to be ready, today, to stop them when they come here.”
    “Whatever you think, whatever you want to do, you know I’m behind you one hundred percent.” Sara’s voice broke as she said, “You’re all I have left.”
    “Sara, we’ll go back and get your family as soon as we can. A few days, at most. We’ll find a way to do it safely.” John hugged Sara close, kissing her forehead. Finally, he broke the hug.
    “Come on, get dressed. We should head over there.”
    Ten minutes later, the couple, both wearing their pistols in