Free Renewal 8 - War Council by Jf Perkins

version that leaves out what they did to Dusty. As for the Junior Dragon, I can only guess, but my guess is that he has plenty more firepower down in Columbia, and he will bring it all.”
    “Shit...” Terry said.
    “Yeah. If our system works, we’ll survive. If not, then maybe I’m just full of myself, and I’ll condemn us all.”
    “I can’t believe that,” Terry said.
    “Me neither. Deep down, I think we’re right, and I think we’ll win. I’m cocky like that,”
 Bill said with his first grin since Terry walked in.
    “So, what happened with Eugene’s prisoners?” Terry asked, playing his role in the story.
    “Glad you asked. Grab us a couple of beers and I’ll tell you.”
     
    Chapter 8 – 9
    Luck brought us home to Sally Bean’s farm, no worse for wear unless we counted the shredded tires on our new truck. We limped along behind Mom’s station wagon full of rescued women at our best speed. The tractor could have easily outrun us. When we arrived, we saw the car parked right in front of Sally’s house. Big Bear was flopped on the front porch, seemingly annoyed with being put out during the best couch time of the evening. Thinking ahead, Dad directed Arturo to drive us straight to the hay barn. He pulled the truck inside, up against the loaded hay wagon and George’s old tractor. The headlights threw bulky shadows against the back wall of the barn, making it seem somehow bigger and more sinister than it was in reality. The evening was cool, like all evenings in those days, but in the forties, it was as comfortable as the sixties had felt in years past.
    We left the spoils of our day in the truck and went straight to a supply room along the far side of the barn to load up on dusty horse blankets. We carried them up to the loft and threw open the doors to let some fresh air flow into the empty space. We had a nice overview of the backyard and the house, lit up with candle and lantern light. The glow of the right end of the house shone through the plastic greenhouse layers, throwing a milky light across the ground.
    Dad was unwinding from the high tension of the past hours and started acting a little silly as a result. “Ok, boys. As you may have guessed, we have penises. Thanks to our dead friend Eugene being a bad man, penises are a very bad thing right now, so we - and our penises - will stay out here tonight.”
    We looked at each other in confusion, and Dad walked back down the stairs. We saw him cross the backyard and wait patiently on a raised herb bed near the back porch. Kirk sat for a few minutes before he followed Dad out of the barn. He stopped by Dad for a minute and then faded into the shadows. Arturo and I sat, feeling the soft cool air brush across our sweat-encrusted faces.
    “Those women must have gone through a lot,” I said when the silence became too heavy.
    “Yeah, more than I want to think about,” Arturo replied. “You know what your dad was saying?”
    “Yeah. I know that men did bad things to them just because they’re women. I know that Dad’s almost stupid happy to be alive after that.”
    “You’re a smart kid, Bill. How about you? Are you ok?”
    “Yeah, I think so. I was scared when he grabbed me, but I never thought I would die. I knew somebody would save me,” I said, just then realizing it was true.
    “I wish I had your faith,” Arturo said sadly.
    “You do. We’re all family now. The same people who would save me would save you too. I know that if my mom hadn’t shot him, you would have.”
    “Well, I was trying to get there, but you know, there are no guarantees.”
    “That’s why we have faith.” I said, as if it made perfect sense.
    Arturo sat in silence for a long time.
    Eventually, Mom was curious enough to see what we were doing. She looked out the back window of the kitchen and saw Dad sitting on the garden bed. She stepped down from the back porch and talked to Dad for a few minutes. The conversation ended with a long hug and a quick