Read The McClane Apocalypse Book Three Online
Authors: Kate Morris
Tags: #romance, #post apocalyptic, #apocalyptic fiction, #military romance
"I will. I also need to tell him about the
one faucet in the hog barn. It needs some work," her brother-in-law
informs them.
"Ok,
then
it's off to bed, mister,"
Sue scolds her husband.
Her laugh is squelched as he must pull her
close for a kiss. There is soft whispering between the two of them
before they leave the hall altogether. This also means that she is
alone with Kelly. He takes her only available hand into his own and
then takes baby Jacob from her. It doesn't even faze Hannah. All of
the men are like this at the farm. They hold the kids, help with
them when they can and offer up their affection freely.
"Let someone else collect the eggs for a
while, ok?" he asks but mostly demands.
"I'll be fine, Kelly. It's one of the only
outdoor chores that I can help with," Hannah argues softly.
"They aren't listening to our orders,
Hannah. You're at an obvious disadvantage than the rest of us. I
don't want you walking into the coop and have one of those men
already be in there," he tells her.
"Ok, I won't do it until we know whether or
not we can trust them," she concedes as his sound judgment is
pretty hard to argue against. It isn't as if she'd see if someone
sneaked up on her.
"Thanks, Hannah. I just have to keep you
safe until they're gone is all," he replies.
"You need to catch up on sleep, too, Kelly.
You were up before me this morning and that's supposed to be your
sleeping time," she reminds him.
"I'm good. We're all used to keeping bad
hours while we're on a mission," he tells as he presses a kiss to
her forehead.
"Alright," she says in a tone that clearly
doesn't convey that anything about it is actually 'alright' at all.
"I'm going to feed him and help Grams get a tray of food ready for
Reagan and her nurse."
A knock at the front door alerts them both
and Kelly hands her Jacob again.
"Who is it?" she asks him as they travel
toward the front of the house. She knows that Kelly can see who
might be at the door because the top half of it is glass.
"Looks like the twin of that sick boy in the
shed," he relays as he opens the door.
"Hello, sir," comes a very small voice from
the other side of the threshold.
"What do you want?" Kelly says with a bit of
gruff.
Hannah jabs the back of his arm.
"Where… where's my brother, sir? I'd like to
see him. I mean, if that's ok with you. I'd really like to see
Garrett," the boy says.
There is such worry in his young voice that
it breaks Hannah's heart.
"Uh… sure, kid. Let me take you to him, ok?"
Kelly says with a truckload more sympathy this time.
This young boy must look tragic and sad to
have brought about such a quick change of attitude in her big
fierce lover.
He quickly adds, "Stay right here and I'll
be back in a sec."
He shuts the door again and turns to Hannah.
She feels his large hands on the sides of her face as he presses a
quick kiss to her mouth.
"Be careful today, ok?"
"Yes, sir," she says jokingly as if he's her
commanding officer.
He chuckles, chucks her under the chin and
leaves the house with the boy whose twin brother lies dying in
their medical facility which is not much more than a pole building
with a cement floor.
"Come on, kid," Kelly says, his voice
fading.
"Oh, thank-you, sir," the boy's reply comes
on a squeal.
Hannah needs to find time today to read some
Scripture and pray harder for this young boy's brother. To lose a
sibling at such a young age would have to be one of the hardest
things a child could possibly endure. She's not sure if this boy
has any other family left, other than his father. His father sure
doesn't seem to be much of a shoulder to lean on. Sometimes Hannah
has learned to read between the lines, read the unspoken things
that people tell her. She isn't stupid, and she's a whole heck of a
lot more intuitive than most people have always thought of her,
with the exception of her family. She'd realized that Frank, father
of these twin boys, is a hard, terrible man by what Kelly
hadn't
told her this morning. Kelly's omissions about the
occurrence out at the shed at dawn had told her all she needed to
know about this Frank. He is a bad father, a loud and intimidating
person and someone she needs to steer clear of while he is on their
farm.
Sam is tending to the pregnant woman near
the back of the small building, wiping her brow with a wet cloth.
They talk periodically but not directly to Reagan and when she
walks closer to them from time to time, they stop talking
altogether. Sam is wearing her protective gear again. They both
are, but Reagan wonders if any of it will be enough. These people
have lost four of their own group to whatever this is, so it leaves
to reason that perhaps a thin, paper mask isn't exactly going to
beat back a thousand year old disease. However, she has to give her
best effort to try and help them if she can. Grandpa was right.
They need to hold on to their last vestiges of humanity, no matter
how difficult that becomes.
And a short while later, Kelly comes back to
report that the visitors have retrieved their water and have gone
directly back to their campsite. Of course, having Derek escort
them with his rifle had probably encouraged them not to wander.
Kelly has with him a guest for Garrett, and it's his twin brother
who they've found out is named Huntley. He favors more of the
Native American features with darker skin and hair than his brother
and at second glance, Reagan realizes that they are not identical
twins at all, but fraternal. His large eyes tilt at the corners,
and he has what promises to be the high cheekbones of an American
Indian. Unlike his brother who is sick, Huntley wears his hair much
longer and down to his shoulders.
Reagan puts the protective gear on Huntley,
making sure to tighten down the metal part on the nose piece so
that no germs get through there. It almost seems ridiculous to do,
though, because they have all been traveling with the two sick
patients for what was probably quite some time. However, they can't
be overly careful anymore.
"I've got him, Kelly. You guys stay out of
here," Reagan tells Kelly and John. John has not left her alone in
the shed. He's been standing for the last hour near the door.
Sam comes over to stand next to her, and
Huntley hugs the girl's waist tightly as if afraid to let her
go.
"I can take him in to see his brother,
doctor," the girl offers kindly.
The kid seems nice even though she has sad,
mournful eyes. It'll be a shame to send her away with those
miscreants when they leave, hopefully soon.
"Sure," Reagan allows her to take the boy
with the long, greasy hair. Then she removes her latex gloves and
goes to the door opening to the shed where the two Rangers still
stand.
"Hey, bro, you need to run in and grab some
grub because we've got to get that hay cut in the top pasture,"
Kelly instructs. "Let's leave Cory here, and me and you will cut it
while Derek gets some sleep. If we use both tractors, it won't take
more than a couple hours at the most. Derek can work it tomorrow
and hopefully sometime this weekend we'll bale it if it doesn't
rain."
Kelly tells him, and John nods but
reluctantly.
"It'll be ok, John. We can see the whole
farm from up there, bro. She'll be ok."
John's eyes snap up to Kelly's and he
grimaces hard. Reagan would like to inform them both that she can
manage just fine on her own but doesn't. Something about saying
this doesn't feel right. She doesn't feel safe at all on the farm
now. John doesn't answer his friend but nods again.
"Um, I'll just go get Cory. I think he's in
the barn with Derek. Then your brother can hit the sack for a
while," Kelly tells them both and jogs away.
"You gonna be ok?" John asks after Kelly is
out of earshot.
Reagan nods stubbornly but feels like
telling him not to leave her for some reason. These visitors have
brought back some bad memories, memories that were just starting to
fade the tiniest bit.
He continues on a frown, "Ok, I won't be
gone long. Got your pistol?"
"You brought it out to me earlier, remember?
It's under my gown. Grandpa's shotgun is in the shed behind this
door, too," she tells him. He nods but frowns.
"I'll hear the shots," he reasons to
himself.
John grasps her hand for a brief second and
gives it a gentle squeeze, but Reagan doesn't try to pull away.
Having John near just seems to make her feel safer, protected. And
his touch is reassuring, not revolting in this moment. His touch
also makes her feel more than just safe and protected, but Reagan
doesn't want to think about those sensations.
"Yeah," she answers quietly, and they stand
there awkwardly, not wanting to part. John's thumb strokes her
knuckles before he releases her. It's like that damn electricity
again, and Reagan's glad when he lets her go.
"I'll be relieved when they're gone," John
complains and a line pinches between his strong brows.
"Yeah," Reagan repeats because she
completely agrees and there's nothing else that needs said about
it.
He finally leaves as Cory jogs up, but John
does turn to glance over his shoulder at her, not once but twice.
Her resistance to being away from John probably comes from the fact
that they'd spent so much time together the last week and he'd
saved her ass in the city multiple times, Reagan reasons. She
doesn't want to think about what any of it means any further than
that.
"What's up?" Cory asks pleasantly.
He's trying to make small talk, but Reagan
just rolls her eyes at him and turns away.
"He wants to know if he can stay in here,
Doctor," Sam inquires quietly for the young boy.
"Not all day, but an hour or so at a time
might be ok," Reagan returns. She notices that the sick child does
not look at all better and is back to the breathing pattern of
short breaths in and long exhalations that usually signify the body
is shutting down. Sometimes this can go on for days. Reagan is
hoping that in those days she'll be able to pump the kid with
enough steroids and antibodies to kill the germ and restore his
life.
The woman on the other cot, Jennifer, has
not awakened for more than a few minutes at a time. Reagan consults
her chart, noticing that Grandpa ran pain killers and a light
sedative through her IV line. It's not the normal procedure for
handling a pregnant woman because the drugs could have negative
consequences on the baby in utero, but given the situation there's
not much of a choice. It's best to keep the patients sedated and
not coughing up blood while the medicines run through their bodies
undisturbed. It also helps reduce the spread of infection when they
aren't spewing phlegm and blood from their lungs all over the
room.
Together Reagan and Sam do their best to
clean Garrett with a warm wet rag, and Reagan uses scissors to
carefully cut away the part of his shirt and the sheet that he's
coughed blood onto. She discards them in a plastic bag that she
will order to be burned. The bedding will need to be burned when
these two are done in the med shed. They cannot afford the danger
of these types of contaminants on the farm.
The boy's brother sits quietly in a chair at
Garrett's side and holds his hand through his latex glove that is
too big for him. Reagan feels sorrier for the kid than she can say.
If one of her sisters had become this ill as a child, she wouldn't
have handled it so well. Hannah going blind hadn't killed her. This
could very well kill this young boy.
"Huntley, are you ok?" Sam asks him.
Reagan realizes as the boy lifts his gaze
toward them that his eyes are a light hazel green and not the brown
she'd expected. They stand out against his dark skin tone. He only
nods in response.
"Frank was over here this morning. Where did
he go?" Sam asks.
Her inquiry of the boys' father is tinged
with a tad of fearful trepidation that is barely concealed.
"He's back at the RV," Huntley answers.
Reagan can detect the most subtle hint of
the broken lilt of the American Indian dialect. His mother must
have been full-blooded because their piece of shit father sure
isn't.
"He doesn't even know I'm here. I snuck
off."
"Oh no," Sam worries.
Cory has come to linger in the doorway which
immediately causes Sam to step closer to Reagan. She can hardly
blame her, though, because Cory is starting to look like the rest
of the men around here: a broad-shouldered, muscular bull, and it
seems he is growing taller every day.
"It's ok. You can be here. If Frank says
anything, I'll say I sent for you," Reagan tells them both.
"Thank-you, miss. Frank doesn't like it when
we don't listen. He can get real mad sometimes," Huntley
explains.
Yeah, I'll bet he does, Reagan thinks to
herself. Frank needs to spend some quality bonding time with John,
Derek and Kelly or just John judging by the reaction he had to
Frank earlier.
"Is he your real dad or stepdad?" Reagan
asks.
"He's our real dad," the boy asks as if he's
surprised by the question.
"I just meant because you call him by his
first name," Reagan explains.
"Oh, it's just what we've always called him.
Our mom's name was Laura, but her Navajo name was Anaba," Huntley
explains.
A deep sadness touches his pale eyes.
"Where is she now, Huntley?" Reagan asks as
she takes his brother's pulse and blood pressure.
"She's walking in the Spirit World with our
Grandfather," he replies and looks away from Reagan.
"Did she die when this started?" The boy
nods a reply. "I'm very sorry to hear that."