Read Renewal 8 - War Council for Free Online Page B

were propelled through the mass of men inside the building. By the time the blast reached the far wall, nothing recognizable remained. Dark bits of matter flew into the distance, seen dimly by electric light from the house. Terry heard a rain of thumping and clattering debris hit the ground in the distance.
    From his right, the sawing of a Gatling gun spun up to speed and filled the main house with hot tracer fire. Quickly enough, the tracers hit combustible material and started the fire. As the house was enveloped in flame, John watched the front door like a vulture watching a corpse, but no one came out.
    Clearly, the bomb had done an effective job. Terry felt sick to his stomach. He had heard every word of Bill’s speech that morning, and had even agreed with the logic, but this... This felt bad. It was one thing to face a man and see who left the fight. It was another to be snuffed en masse without warning. The men watched for long minutes for any sign of escapees, and finally, at a signal from John, they burned everything else.
     
    Chapter 8 – 6
    Dad and Arturo returned on foot, two hours after Joe had left. The station wagon finally rebelled at the lousy gasoline and sputtered to a halt at the fork, back up on Blanton Chapel Road. It was a tough hike for Arturo. He flopped onto Sally’s front porch, dodging Bear’s enthusiastic tongue greetings. Dad stood nearby, catching his breath before he shared his news. In his head, he was struggling to find a way to explain to his wife that they would be forced to deal with the Eugene Curfman problem. Unfortunately, his most clever mental line was, we have to deal with Eugene Curfman .
    Just then, the front door slammed open and a parade streamed out, led by the gigantic dog. Beth Carter was third in line. She began without preamble, “We have to deal with Eugene Curfman, David.”
    “What? Are you reading my mind? Of course we do, but I expected to talk you into it,” Dad said, suddenly realizing all the potentially horrifying reasons she may have wanted to solve the problem. “What happened? Is everything ok?”
    “Oh, yeah. We’re fine. We had a visitor today, Sally’s friend. He said that Eugene is threatening the neighbors just to track us down.” Mom explained.
    “Sounds like good old Eugene,” Dad replied, making a wry face.
    “Wait. Why were you going to talk me into it?” Mom asked with the same look of concern Dad had used moments before.
    “Eugene left us a note. He wrote it on the barn door in charcoal. It was a threat, but I can’t repeat it in front of the kids.”
    On cue Jimmy and Tommy groaned theatrically, and stomped their little feet with the grand indignity of it all. A brief burst of laughter followed the boys’ angry dance, which ended it on the spot. It’s hard to be angry when people think it’s funny.
    “Don’t worry, Beth,” Dad said. “Arturo and I took a good look around, and we have a plan. We’re going to ask for some help.”
    “Help? From who?” Mom asked.
    “The cannibals, of course.” Dad said with a grin.
    “David, you are not going to talk to cannibals. I will not have you eaten for lunch.” Mom was completely serious, hands-on-hips serious. The rest of us practically fell to the ground with laughter.
    Mom finally saw the humor and joined the laughter. “Funniest thing in a month of Sundays,” Sally gasped between laughing spasms.
    When the laughter settled, Dad put on his scheming face and said, “Who said anything about talking?”
    ***
    First things first. Dad and Arturo spent a good part of the afternoon retrieving our car from the main road and getting it to run. They went out with George’s old tractor and a sturdy rope, and came back with the station wagon in tow. They had drained several fuel tanks into portable gas cans along the way. Dad poured all the gasoline into one of the translucent plastic barrels and left it to sit for half an hour. While they were waiting, Arturo took command of the