Home Fires Burning (Walking in the Rain Book 2) by William Allen

dead raiders?”    
    “Fuck ‘em.  Wild hogs and coyotes gotta eat, too.  I’m not wasting time burying this bunch.”  I spoke with considerable venom and neither of my companions suggested otherwise, but Nick had another idea.
    “Let’s check their pockets for any identification first.  I don’t recognize any of these guys, so we need to find out where they are coming from.”
    Great idea, and that’s just what we were doing when Scott came walking up leading Cass McWorter and two more men from the farm.  When Nick saw his aunt with the three men, he waved to get my attention.
    “Luke, take Aunt Cass over to the Trimbles.  I should have figured she would come.”
    Nodding, I dropped the four wallets I’d recovered in the sack Nick was using to hold them and headed over to Cass.  All the guys I found had Little Rock addresses, which confirmed some of my fears.
    “Hey, kid.  I heard you got shot again.”
    I had to grin at her offhand comment.  Like she was talking about the weather.
    “’It’s merely a flesh wound.  ‘Tis but a scratch,” I replied, quoting from one of my favorite movies.
    She gave me a mock glare as she approached.  I could tell the men with her had no idea what I was talking about.
    “Son, you are too young to even know who Monty Python is, much less quoting from that movie.”
    “What can I say?  I’m an old soul.  Seriously, it is just what Nick calls a bullet burn.  Didn’t even bleed.  Now, follow me and I’ll get you to your new patients.”
    With that grim reminder, Cass broke off from Scott and company to join me in approaching the makeshift camp we set up for the Trimbles.
    “How bad is it?” Cass asked under her breath as she drew near.  “Scott was being evasive when he said you found a mother and her two daughters.  Just that they looked to be in poor shape.”
    I looked down, not meeting the woman’s gaze.
    “No food, no water for at least a couple of days.  Maybe longer.  Signs of dehydration and likely malnutrition.  All three have been raped and beaten, multiple times.  Probably sodomized as well.  Oh, and they got to listen to Sean Trimble, husband and father, as he was tortured to death.”
    When I dared look over at Cass, I found the older woman white faced and trying to avoid spilling tears.  She tried to project a “tough old broad” demeanor as my grandfather would have called it, but in a few sentences I’d managed to break down that barrier.
    “What the fuck is wrong with people?  How can someone think this is okay to do?”
    I could do nothing but shrug as I tried to maintain eye contact.
    “Don’t look at me.  I just kill the assholes.  I can’t figure them out.  Stealing food for your family is one thing, and I can see killing if you need to, but this is just evil for its own sake.”
    Maybe there was nothing to figure out.  I remembered my study of world history and from the earliest of times, armies took advantage of the civilian population as they moved across the land.  The textbooks used to teach in public schools watered down the truth, but still I got the idea. 
    These raiders represented a new, terrible army loosed in our lands.  With no laws or threat of force to hold them in check, they were raping and pillaging to their black hearts’ content.  All the while, they tore down the foundations of our crumbling civilization.  

     
     
    CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    Scott thought to bring two trucks, so we loaded one with the Trimbles and Cass.  Well, more to the point, Cass and I loaded the first truck.  The ladies latched on to Cass well enough, but they never got over the shivers when one of the other men came around.  For some reason, they seemed okay with my presence.  I was afraid to ask why at first and just went with it.
    I got to carry first Shay and then Delilah over to the truck, which had a mattress thoughtfully laid out in the bed for ease of travel.  Neither girl spoke to me, or made eye contact,