The McClane Apocalypse Book Three (18 page)

"But she was so cut up it was sickening. She
won't even show me. The only person she would let change her
bandages as she recovered was Grandpa. Look, honey, I'm not gonna
lie. She's not the same person she used to be. She's changed…
completely. Reagan used to be fun, like you. She had an ornery
sense of humor and liked to laugh and joke with Derek when he was
home. Don't get me wrong, she's always been a little feisty, but
she never had so much hatred in her heart for everything and
everyone. She would've never said to let the visitors out there
starve to death. That's Reagan 2.0. The old Reagan would've wanted
to feed them and take care of their sick because all she ever
wanted to do was heal people. She's so damned smart, but she can't
figure out how to fix this problem inside of her. I know about
PTSD. Trust me, as a wife of a career military man you get to learn
a lot of things you don't think you'll ever need to know. They make
the wives go to classes and lectures when the men get deployed so
that we can recognize problems when they come home. Luckily Derek
never experienced anything like that. Well, not that he would ever
let me find out, that is. But I think for sure Reagan has some form
of post-traumatic stress. You know what's crazy? She probably
already knows it, too. And if she can't fix it being the super
brain she is, then how the hell are we supposed to help her?"

"Yeah, but I gotta try," John says.

His determination is something that Sue
appreciates more than she can ever say.

"I'll be honest, John, since you came here I
have been seeing small changes in her. I've seen you touch her here
and there for a second, and she doesn't flinch like she used to.
That has to be progress, right?" Sue asks with hope. She wants her
sister back so badly.

"Maybe. Sometimes I think she's getting
better, but then she'll just snap again. I don't know how to fix
someone with PTSD. I just know what it is and what the signs are.
Heck, Reagan could probably recite a whole medical reference book
on it, but she doesn't know how to apply practical application to
it," John says.

There is humor in his voice, and Sue is
relieved that his darkness has lifted just slightly. Sue chuckles
once to lighten the mood.

"Thanks for telling me what you know,
though. I think it will help me to help her."

"If you want to understand more about that
day, go and look at that car. It's down behind the barn. I think
you guys might've parked that Hummer out there, too. I fully
believe if it wouldn't have drawn attention, then Grandpa would've
burned that damn car," Sue recommends softly so that no one will
overhear. "I love you, John, and I know why you want to help her
which only makes me love you more. You'll always be my adopted
brother whether you can fix my real sister or not."

Sue pecks him on the cheek, pats his thigh
once and goes inside. She watches from the window as John sits
another few minutes with his head down in a pose of tension and
rage. His handsome face is pensive, tortured and desperate for a
solution. Sue can tell how much John loves her sister. Most men
would've easily given up on her already and not had the resolve to
deal with her. But not John. He is so much like Derek, and yet so
different. But one thing is for sure. The Harrison men don't back
down when the situation gets too difficult.

Before long, he plucks his baseball cap from
the porch railing and leaves the area. She sends up a silent prayer
to give John the strength to help her sister and the patience to
not give up on her.

Murmured conversation comes from behind the
house as she and Grams are preparing breakfast together in the
kitchen the following morning, early morning.

"Sounds like the kids are here, Hannah,"
Grams says to her. "Oh, Hannah. I wish you could see this. That
boy, Simon, is holding Huntley's hand. What a sweet boy he is to
look after him like that. They aren't even related I don't
think."

A knock sounds at the door to the kitchen a
second later, and Grams goes to answer it, momentarily leaving her
biscuit cutting.

By 'kids', Hannah knows she means Simon,
Huntley and Sam. They are here for their chore assignments but
little do they know that the family just wants to help them out and
not vice versa. And the fact that Simon would be holding Huntley's
hand is also not surprising in the least. It seems from what Hannah
can conclude, it's that all of the kids on the farm, including
their own, feel the need to stick together, cling on to one
another. There is a closeness between the children, from the young
to the older teens that might not have ever developed before the
apocalypse. They've all seen so much death and despair to know
enough to hold fast to each other because they might be all that
they have some day.

"Good morning, children," Grams greets
them.

Hannah rolls her eyes. From what she's
learned, two of them aren't exactly children but teenagers. Sam is
fourteen or fifteen and Simon is sixteen if she's heard
correctly.

Grams just continues on, "Simon dear, why
don't you head out to the cattle barn? I believe Cory is going that
way. He can show you where Kelly might need you."

"Yes, ma'am," Simon answers.

Hannah can hear Cory leave his chair at the
island. Simon has not entered any farther into the kitchen than one
step.

"Ok, Grams. I'll take him with me. Just let
me put my other boot on. I help my brother do the milking, and then
we clean out the milking area and shovel… you know, crap and
stuff," Cory explains shyly.

"That's cool. We're glad to help," the other
boy says.

His voice is deep, not as much as Cory's,
but very refined, gentleman-like. Reagan told her the other day
that he is a dork, but Hannah knows that her sister's opinions of
people tend to be a tad on the harsh side.

A quick shuffling is following by Simon's
voice murmuring soothingly again, "It's ok, bud. I won't be gone
long, alright?"

This young man is obviously speaking to
Huntley who is probably afraid to be left alone in the care of
virtual strangers. He's lost his best friend and mother to this
horrific new world, and is likely turning to Sam and Simon for
comfort because he certainly isn't going to get any from his
wretched father Frank.

Grams just chatters while bustling about the
kitchen. "Then you two come back in and I'll have breakfast for
you. You teens can sit here at the island," Grams says.

Hannah isn't sure why she doesn't just sit
them at the table with the rest of the family, but she also doesn't
ask her in front of them. Does she not fully trust them yet? Hannah
does. They seem harmless enough to her. Some of the others out at
the camp, not so much.

"Yes, ma'am," Cory answers, and Simon echoes
him.

The other two kids are quiet, probably
awaiting their own assignments. Hannah continues to cut out
biscuits and place them on the baking sheets.

Cory blurts with teen enthusiasm, "Come on,
dude."

With that directive, the teen boys are out
the back door again and gone. Hannah can hear them through the open
kitchen window above the sink, chatting all the way to the barn. If
these three weren't early risers before, they will be soon enough.
Farm work doesn't exactly start at the crack of 10:30, and the
animals are used to morning feedings that start between 5:00 and
6:00 a.m. Sometimes the kids sleep until 7:00 or 7:30 but not
today. They are all up and out, probably enjoying the last pleasant
weather of the summer. Nobody argues, though. They sleep great when
they play hard and work even harder outside all day.

"Huntley honey, why don't you go out to the
chicken coop and help the other kids collect eggs. They're already
out there, sweetie," Grams suggests. "There are a couple of small
shovels by the door, and the chicken poo needs cleaned out every
morning and put into the wheelbarrow. The kids will show you where
it gets taken. The compost pile behind the horse barn is where it
goes, but they'll show you, ok?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll help," Huntley
promises.

"Then it will be about time to come in for
breakfast. So if I can trust you to round up the other children for
breakfast then go on and head out there, dear," Grams orders
gently.

Huntley agrees to the deal and leaves
immediately and is probably glad to get away from a kitchen full of
women. For a boy who has just lost his brother, he seems happy to
be away from the group with whom he is traveling. He is more eager
to spend time with the strange company of the McClane kids than
with his own father.

"Now, what to do with Miss Samantha?" Grams
asks lightheartedly.

Hannah cannot gauge the girl's response,
though, because she does not verbalize it. She rarely verbalizes
much of anything according to Reagan.

Grams prods further, "Well, dear, what would
you like to do?"

"I can do whatever you'd like me to do, Mrs.
McClane," Sam finally offers kindly.

"My husband says you make quite the nurse,
young lady," Grams praises.

Again no response. This girl isn't much of a
talker.

Grams just keeps pushing, "Would you like to
help out at the med shed? Or if you'd like, my eldest granddaughter
is working in the greenhouse with plants. We'll try to keep many of
our plants going all the way through until the first snow and even
some after, like the lettuces and cabbages."

"Um, I think I'd like to work in the medical
facility if that's ok," Sam says.

This doesn't come as a surprise to Hannah.
Apparently Samantha is very helpful and takes direction well,
follows orders clearly and does whatever is asked of her. Grandpa
and Reagan have both praised her abilities.

Sam quickly adds, "But I would like to learn
about the plants sometime, too, if I can, Mrs. McClane."

"Sure, the more you learn then the bigger
help you'll be to us, dear. Now run along and join my
granddaughter. Oh and just ignore her crassness. Sometimes she's a
bit rough around the edges, but we still love her just the same,"
Grams tells her.

"Oh, no, ma'am. She's fine. She's nice,
actually. I like being around her. She's so smart, and I've learned
so much just listening to her. She even showed me how to take a
blood pressure reading," Sam exclaims with enthusiasm.

Hannah just about slices through her finger
with the biscuit cutter. Reagan nice? Hm, this girl has extremely
impaired judgment.

"Uh, ok, honey, whatever you say. But just
make sure you both come back in here for breakfast in one hour, ok?
My granddaughter doesn't like to be bothered with eating and by the
looks of you, neither do you. So I'm putting you in charge of
getting her in here," Grams orders.

"Yes, ma'am," Sam agrees. "I'll bring her on
time, ma'am."

The back screen door opens and shuts whisper
quiet as Sam makes her exit. This is not the norm around the farm.
That screen door gets slammed about four hundred times a day.

"I think she's going to fit in just fine
around here. Don't you, Hannie?" Grams asks.

She has come back to join Hannah at the
island.

"Yes, I agree, Grams. She's helpful and
respectful. I didn't hear that Bobby kid. Was he not with
them?"

"No, he wasn't," Grams says with a touch of
derision. "Guess he isn't interested in helping out around here. Oh
well. That's up to him. The offer was made, and if he'd rather be
out there with that band of hooligans, then that speaks to the
boy's character better than anything else."

Black and white. It's how Grams sees things.
It's also how the love of her life sees things and why she cares so
much for him.

She'd managed to sneak back to his room only
once more since the arrival of the visitors where they'd made love
twice before he took her to her own room again. Kelly is so tender
and loving, yet fierce when he needs to be. Hannah likes to think
of him as her gentle barbarian. Thinking of him throughout the day
is the only way she gets through most of her days. Their quick,
stolen kisses and secretive caresses keep her going and,
unfortunately, also keep her extremely frustrated. She'd begged him
to just be out in the open with their relationship and let her tell
everyone, but he'd said the time wasn't right, especially with the
visitors on the farm. But, oh, those moments of pure bliss with him
made Hannah just ache to be with Kelly every second of the day. She
can only hope that he pines for her in the same way.

"Hannah?" Grams asks like she's asked it
more than once.

"Yes?" Hannah stammers out.

"Did you start the sausage?" Grams asks.

Grams is standing closer to her than she'd
realized. She must've moved around the island to be next to her.
And like a doofus, she'd been in a daze thinking of Kelly and his
muscular arms as he'd cradled her body against his.

"Uh… no, sorry. I was distracted," Hannah
admits and stops what she's doing.

"Well, honey, you've been stirring those
same peaches in that bowl for about ten minutes. Where's your mind
lately, Hannah McClane?" Grams asks without criticism but with
concerned worry.

"Sorry, Grams. I guess it's the visitors
that have me distracted," she lies, but not well because her blush
would probably betray her to someone with sight—or common
sense.

"Uh huh, the visitors," Grams says
sarcastically.

Her grandmother takes the big ceramic bowl
full of sliced peaches and sugar that will go into a crock for
cobbler after tonight's dinner.

She adds, "Just start the sausage,
love."

"Ok," Hannah mumbles as she feels her way
for the stove and the package of sausage which Grams has already
opened for her.

"What do you think about Samantha?" Grams
asks as she preps something at the island.