Read Online Marine Summer: Year 2041 by B. E. Wilson - Free Book Online

said.
    I browsed the items on the shelf. Then a rustling sound behind me got my attention. I drew my weapon and turned toward sound.
    “Sarge!” I called.
    “I heard it.”
    We proceeded to the rear of the store. A door was open, rocking in the wind. Buckley eased the door open, snow blowing in on the floor at our feet. We burst through, only to find ourselves behind the store, alone.
    “Stand down, nothing here.”
    “Copy that,” I said, relieved it was nothing.
    “Look here, it’s a generator,” he said.
    I watched as he twisted the cap off the tank sitting next to it.
    “I’ll be damned, it’s full! Let’s give it a try.”
    He turned the key on the generator and the store came to life. Lights inside glowed bright, and the glare from the sign out front lit up the woods behind us. He started to laugh.
    “What’s so funny?” I asked. I didn’t understand the humor.
    “We’ve got heat, food, and a place to crash. What else could a man ask for?” He grinned at me. “Go get the others and black out the store windows. We don’t want to give away our position. And get Houserman to disable that sign.”
    It had been a long time since I had felt heat. It was nice not to have three or four layers of clothing on. Eating something other than MRE’s was also nice for a change. I quickly developed a fondness for Twinkies. In history class they taught us about the Romans, and how they purged after stuffing themselves with food. That’s how I felt. I ate till my stomach hurt and I almost wanted to puke.
    “Don’t get spoiled, boys. We need to ration some of this food out. We’ve still got a long way to go,” Buckley said.
    I smiled at him, “Come on, Sarge, one more Twinkie…” I began to say, when a scratching at the back door stopped me from finishing my sentence.
    Buckley jumped off the counter where he’d been lounging. He rushed to the back wall, leaning his head around the corner. The scratching noise was getting louder. He gestured for me to move down the hallway. He took a knee about six feet from the door. When he lowered his hand, I yanked the door open as fast I could.
    I shut my eyes and waited for Buckley to start shooting, but nothing came. His hysterical laughter and the sound of whimpering caused me to cautiously open one eye. A frail little mutt waited at the door, tail wagging, waiting to be invited into the feast.
    “Come here, boy,” he called to it.
    Uncertain, the mutt waited outside the door, his front paws prancing on the ice, unsure if he wanted to make our acquaintance.
    Feeling grateful I wasn’t dead, I joined in trying to coax the animal inside. It was terrified and trembling from the cold. I took a Twinkie out of my pocket, splitting it in half, and offered it to him. The dog, still fearful, inched its way to the snack and swiftly snatched it from my hand.
    “There ya go, boy. Want some more? Come on, you can come in here, come on,” I said, softening my voice. “Come on boy.” I made kissing noises with my lips.
    The timid pup cautiously followed me as I stepped further back, the others backing off to give the animal space. Once we cleared the hallway, Buckley shut the door.
    “Poor guy,” Houserman said, “his ribs are showing. Probably hasn’t had a good meal in weeks.”
    “One of you clean out one of those empty cans and get that dog some water,” Buckley said.
    I spent the next few hours making friends with the dog as the others slept. I fed him till he had enough. Then he lay down beside my leg, resting his head on my lap. Running my hand down his soft brown coat not only relaxed him, it did the same for me. We both fell asleep.
    I felt a hand on my shoulder shaking me and looked up from my slumber to see Sarge standing over me.
    “What time is it?” I mumbled, my mouth dry.
    “Time to go. You need to wake the others and say bye to your new friend.”
    “But Sarge, he’ll die out here.”
    “Sorry kid, where we’re going is no place for a dog.”
    The