Contents

Title Page

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE Paige

CHAPTER TWO Reagan

CHAPTER THREE Cory

CHAPTER FOUR Sam

CHAPTER FIVE Simon

CHAPTER SIX Cory

CHAPTER SEVEN Paige

CHAPTER EIGHT Simon

CHAPTER NINE Cory

CHAPTER TEN Reagan

CHAPTER ELEVEN Paige

CHAPTER TWELVE Sam

CHAPTER THIRTEEN Simon

CHAPTER FOURTEEN Paige

CHAPTER FIFTEEN Sam

CHAPTER SIXTEEN Simon

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Cory

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Sam

CHAPTER NINETEEN Cory

CHAPTER TWENTY Paige

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Reagan

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Cory

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Sam

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Simon

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Cory

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Reagan

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN Simon

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT Cory

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE Sam

CHAPTER THIRTY Paige

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE Epilogue

The McClane Apocalypse

Book Six

Kate Morris

Ranger Publishing

Copyright © 2016 by Ranger Publishing

Note to Readers: This publication contains the opinions and ideas of its author. It is not intended to provide helpful or informative material on the subjects addressed in the publication. The author and publisher specifically disclaim all responsibility for any liability, loss or risk personal or otherwise.

All rights reserved; including the right to reproduce this book or portions of thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, email: Ranger Publishing @gmail.com.

First Ranger Publishing softcover edition, September 2016

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Manufactured in the United States of America

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file

ISBN 13: 978-1537260099

ISBN 10: 153726009X

Dedication

To the men at Detachment Lima. You stand on that mountain and keep us safe. You are not forgotten. Thank you for your bravery, sacrifice and protection. Play another Katy Perry for the rest of us who can't be there.

Kate

CHAPTER ONE

Paige

They need to return to the farm today, but Paige doesn’t see how it’s going to be possible since she and Cory are still scouting for supplies and picking up looted articles around the city. She’d let her brother and Cory sleep most of the day after their long night of fighting with Dave the Mechanic’s group against those bastards at the sex slave camp. She and Sam had gone outside and sat on the porch this morning so that they could sleep peacefully, although her friend hadn’t talked much. By the time the men had awakened, most of the morning and early afternoon hours were gone. However, Cory still had a list of items he wanted from the city and wasn’t willing to leave without collecting as much as they could. So far today, the trip with just the two of them has proven worth the effort. They’ve even managed to find gasoline and three cans of diesel fuel. The gas was siphoned from a pick-up truck and one tank from a boat moored to a dock on the river. They also found some valves for the gas lines that Doc required.

She’s following him from room to room and wandering the halls of a high school near the outskirts of the city. She’ll just be glad to get back home to the family where it’s safe, where she doesn’t have to look over her shoulder for a while. Paige may have been complacent in surrendering her vegan, city slicker, give-peace-a-chance former lifestyle, but she isn’t willing to give up her safe haven of solace, which has become the McClane farm.

“Hey, Red,” Cory calls over to her from the other side of the room. At least he isn’t calling her beanpole. Paige glances at him, noting that he’s pointing to a collection of books in a bookcase. She walks over to examine them more closely. He’s smirking.

They are in a science room with tall lab tables and stools in place of the usual classroom desks. He’s pointing to a collection of Anatomy and Physiology books.

“Think we should take these books back to the farm?” she asks her tall companion who looks like a rugged hunter with his dark flannel shirt and three days’ worth of facial hair.

“Sure,” he says with an even deeper smirk as he closes in on Paige.

“What? You don’t want to take them back to the farm?” she asks with a frown and backs up against the bookcase since she has little choice.

“This subject matter has proven interesting the last week,” he comments with a grin. “I was thinking we should explore some anatomy and physiology ourselves.”

Of course, he’s referring to the night they spent together at the Belmont Mansion. Then, to further her discomfort, he presses one hand into the wooden frame above her head and leans closer, his shaggy black hair falling across his cheek.

“Hey!” Paige exclaims and scoots out from under his imposing shadow to march back to the other side of the room.

Cory just chuckles at her.

“We made an agreement, and now you’re trying to renege on it,” she points out and slings her rifle over her shoulder to rest on her back. Just a few short years ago, if anyone had said she’d be comfortable slinging a rifle on a scouting mission in a post-apocalyptic city, Paige would’ve laughed at them.

He moves across the room like a stalking panther and meets her at the door before she can open it. Then he presses his back to it and smiles broadly.

“I’m thinking about renegotiating those terms,” he admits with a twinkle in his brown eyes and crosses his arms across his broad chest. “I may have decided too abruptly.”

“I didn’t,” she returns and gets a shrug from him.

A thumping sound on the other side of the room where an emergency exit door is located alerts Cory, who whips his head to the side. He jogs to that door and waits, listening. Paige follows in his wake and stands directly behind him. A sharp pang of fear shoots through her stomach as he eases the door slightly but silently open. He expels a breath as they both spot a pigeon flying around, hitting the walls of the hallway and landing on the floor. Cory opens a window for her, and the bird promptly makes a quick escape.

“I doubt if there’s anyone left in this city,” she says when he returns. “I think we’re safe.”

“Of course, there’re people here,” he argues with a confused scowl and shuts the door again.

“I doubt it,” she repeats. “You’ve killed everyone.”

“Not everyone,” he says, lifts his brows, and smiles.

Paige mumbles, “Probably.”

They go through the room again, passing by a display case of floating animal parts in glass jars filled with formaldehyde. She tries not to cringe. There’s even a fetal pig in one. Cobwebs cling to the jars and hang loosely between them. Dust covers the shelves and textbooks lining them. It’s as if a horror film is about to be shot in this abandoned location, only it’s all too real. She wishes that it wasn’t so real, that it was just all staging and props to make the movie-goer believe the story. She manages not to cringe but does shiver.

Cory leads her to the nurse’s office where they loot the metal cabinets and shelves. Surprisingly after all this time, there’s still medicine- even though it’s mostly all expired- some bandaging, salves, and needles, a few bottles of headache medicine. Doc and Reagan will have to determine whether or not the meds are still viable. Their clinic is about to become busier with the addition of treating Dave’s people when they require care. Paige has no idea how they’ll manage, but she’s sure that her brother is already planning on picking herbs in the forest to compound into medicines with Doc to make new solutions that taste disgusting but work effectively enough.

They search the school’s kitchen and don’t find anything but a few bottles of spices, which they leave. Cory does stuff some towels into his pack and grabs another bundle to place in hers. They go through a lot of rags and towels back at the farm and the clinic.

“Professor to Death Stalker,” her brother says over the radio.

Cory unclips it from his belt and presses the button on the side. “Go ahead, Professor.”

“The Old McDonald just called in. They need us back there. Got some new guests.”

Paige watches with marvel as Cory’s dark eyes, which had just been smoldering with unconcealed desire for her, turn icy cold and malevolent.

“We’ll be there in a few hours,” he tells Simon since it will take that long to travel back to the cabin in the woods.

“No, we’ll pick you up at the rendezvous point,” Simon corrects. “We need to move out. Be there in an hour.”

“Got it. Out,” Cory replies and replaces the radio to his belt.

Paige follows after him as he picks up the pace with a new purpose.
“Who do you think he means? New guests?” she asks him as they leave the school building and cross the overgrown grounds of a former football field. No cheerleaders perform tricks and call out their rousing chants for victory. No players run practice routes down the once green field toward the end zone. The black-topped trail that skirts the perimeter of the home team’s field meant for their track and field runners is now nearly completely engulfed with grass and weeds and dead leaves with the absence of weekly manicures from the groundskeeper.

“I don’t know,” he answers curtly and continues on, ducking under the stadium where the seats have begun to rust, and the pillars holding up the structure no longer seem as safe to support it. “We’re not taking any chances, though. I’m not sure if they’re friendly or not, but I want to get back to the farm as soon as possible.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing bad or they would’ve told us to hurry back and that they were under attack,” she says, trying to reassure him. Then Paige pulls her hood up to ward off the crisp wind whipping through the corridor.

“Can’t be too sure of that,” he argues and climbs over a cement wall.

Cory lands on his feet after he drops about four feet down. Then he reaches up and helps her by placing his hands at Paige’s waist. She appreciates the help. She’d twisted an ankle a few years ago by jumping over a similar wall and landing awkwardly on it. She’d been in the middle of running away from a group of people who’d seemed up to no good. She knew they were up to no good because she’d spied them robbing some other people. The sprained ankle had made her escape difficult and stressful. However, she’d finally made it back to her friends and little Maddie, just a lot later than she’d planned. They’d been worried out of their minds about her, too. But she’d brought a box of rice and two cans of black beans she’d found on the floor of a small corner store. It had made a wonderful meal that night. Unfortunately, she’d been laid up a few days with that ankle and had more than once wished for some Epsom salt and a hot bath. The most she got was two aspirin and a hot compress. It was better than nothing. At least she’d gotten away safely and was still alive.

He takes a second to pull her back against him, which Paige doesn’t appreciate as much as the help down from the high wall. When she tries to move away, Cory pulls closer and even presses his mouth against her neck, knocking her hood down.

“Cory!” she hisses. He just chuckles against the skin below her ear, causing a ripple of pleasure to shoot through her. “What the hell? We’re on a mission.”

“I know,” he says and steps away abruptly, causing her to lose balance. “Good grief. Get your head in the game already and quit hitting on me.”

Paige just scowls up at him. She can’t help her smile from peeking out, though.

“Let’s keep going,” he says. “Gotta make the rendezvous point.”

“Where are we meeting?” Paige asks.

“’Bout a forty-five-minute hike on foot.”

“Lead the way,” she retorts and looks at his shoes before meeting his gaze. Cory grins and pushes his hair back behind his ear.

They jog and walk intermittently. Somewhere in the city, a fire is burning because she can see long tendrils of smoke reaching high above the buildings. She looks nervously to Cory for confirmation.

“I see it,” he acknowledges but keeps going at a fast walk.

“Dave’s men down at the river?” she asks, knowing they went back this morning for a final round of battle with anyone who was still there or any other men who came back.

“No, wrong area,” he says. “That’s coming from the direction we need to go.”

“Should we radio Simon and ask him to pick us up somewhere else?”

“No, we need to get out of the city and back to the farm. We’ll check it out. We’ll avoid it if I think it’s going to be a problem.”

Paige swallows hard and tries not to worry. The last few days have been a pressure cooker on her nerves. She just wants to get back to the farm. She’s sick of being afraid and needs a serious detox and destress back in her cabin. Before all of this when she was still in college and had too much stress in her life, Paige would go for a run, maybe catch a movie with her friends, or go to a spa at her mother’s insistence with the gift cards she used to send her. Now the decompression is hanging out in the kitchen with Hannah or curling up on her favorite window seat in the music room with one of the family's books. She also needs to get away from Cory for a while. She has to sort out her feelings for him, feelings she doesn’t want to address. They’d agreed that the other night was going to be a one-night stand, a strictly platonic fling. It doesn’t appear that he wants it to be such a thing, even though he’d acted so strangely the morning after. It hadn’t lasted long, though, and now he’s acting like he wants something more, something she’s not willing to give.

They creep down a narrow alley, passing the remains of an animal skeleton, or what she hopes are animal bones. They trample through weeds and a flooded area that is too wide to avoid, making her even more thankful for the new waterproof boots he found her. Moss has grown up the side of the building, and ivy has managed to take hold on the fire escape and the metal stairs leading to the floors above. The windows of the building are so dirty she can barely see in. The sun is gone, hiding behind a low lying cloud cover hanging just above the crests of the tall buildings. She wishes the clouds would float away to reveal the sun and warm her skin. This morning there was a light dusting of snow on the ground around the cabin before they left. Cory had seemed oblivious, but she was freezing.

“Need a hand?” he asks, breaking her trance.

They are forced to climb over a bulldozer that has been at some point tipped onto its side by a city bus, whose front end is completely smashed into a twisted, gnarled structure that resembles some sort of bizarre new modern art exhibit of destroyed metal. She’s not sure why either of these large vehicles was trying to squeeze through this narrow alley, but it was likely that they were in a hurry to get away from someone or many someones at the beginning of the end. She is sure that most of the people involved in this accident were killed. Paige doesn’t look too hard for the victims’ bodies. Some things are better left unseen.

“I got it,” she tells him and climbs up after Cory has done so. She follows his lead and grabs hold of the same pieces of metal and bars that he does since they are strong enough to hold him. Her new boots are sturdy, and the lug soles give her safer footing than her old, worn out ones.

“You’re quite the spider monkey,” he observes from his position on the ground on the other side waiting for her.

She slides to the ground, as well, and lands in a deep puddle. Her jeans get splashed. It’s more of a small pond that mirrors so many others in the middle of streets that she’s seen over the years. She’s learned to walk carefully in these city puddles. Sometimes they are actually small sink holes that are deeper than she is tall. Luckily she landed in the shallow end. The dirty water just comes over the toes of her boots and not high enough to seep down inside the tops. Nothing is worse than wet feet and the blisters that come soon after.

“Graceful, too!” Paige scoffs. “And don’t mention monkeys. That was creepy as hell the other day. Hoping not to run into any more weird ass monkeys while we’re here.”

“Yeah…”

A shrill whistle, one made from a human calling to another, echoes down the intersecting street and filters its way into their alley. Paige startles and her companion grabs her arm.

“Back,” he whispers fiercely. “Get back over.”

She scrambles with speed over the heavy equipment again and lands quietly on her feet. Cory is right on her heels.

“Not enough cover,” he says. “We need to breach this building.”

She tries two doors, finds the one locked and the other blocked by something on the other side too heavy to move.

“Here!” he calls quietly as he shoves a window upward. “Climb through first.”

He squats and cups his hands together for her. Paige wastes no time and steps into his hand. He boosts her up and through the window in a flash. Then Cory comes through right after her. He slides the window shut again. Then they wait in silence, the only noise coming from her own rapid breathing.

The building around them is cold and dark, two things she finds undesirable in a hiding place, especially the darkness. At least it appears to be empty. Jumping through the window of an unsearched building can be bad. They could’ve landed in the middle of a room full of people who would want to rob or kill them.

“This way,” Cory whispers.

They step over and around debris, careful not to knock into any of it and alert the people from the street out front. Paige heads around one side of a fallen chandelier, a delicate, yet decadent crystal piece of lighting. It’s a shame to Paige that it has fallen and been discarded and broken in many places, mirroring the collapse of their country. She’s pretty sure this once-lovely building was an arts center, either a stage theater or museum of some sort. The red carpeting is covered in a heavy film of dust. The crown moulding, intricate plaster work, and scrolled brass wall sconces lend more weight to her theory. These dilapidated buildings always make her melancholy, but today she’s too worried about who was just whistling down the street to dwell on it.

He’s leading her toward the front of the old, brick building that faces the main road. Some of the windows are broken. Cory squats near one and following his lead, Paige drops down onto her haunches. Cory rises again and presses his back tightly to the wall where he peeks furtively through the glass. Paige hears a man speaking in the distance. She’s entirely too frightened to risk a glance for herself and stays low.

“…I agree with Marla,” a man says as they draw near the window.

Paige’s eyes flit to Cory’s. He holds a finger to his lips. She’d like to inform him that it isn’t necessary to tell her to be silent.

“Don’t be naïve. You know we can’t trust people,” a woman says next.

“She’s really sick, sis,” he tells his apparent sister.

The woman interjects, “It doesn’t matter. We just need to keep looking. There’s bound to be medicine still around here somewhere.”

“We’ve been looking for two days,” he argues. “She’s running high fevers according to the doc.”

Paige passes a glance to Cory, who shakes his head quickly. He clearly doesn’t want to offer these people or whatever group with whom they belong any assistance. She’s not sure if that’s the right decision. Their voices from the street fade away after another moment.

“Come on,” he says and extends a hand to help her up.

“Where are we going?”

“Slight detour to the pickup spot.”

Paige pulls on his hand to slow him down. “Shouldn’t we offer them help, Cory? We have medicine. They sounded… safe.”

“I know,” he agrees, looking down at her. “That’s why we’re gonna follow them. See where they go. Then we’ll meet with your brother. He’s the one carrying the medicine bag.”

“Sounds like they have a doctor in their group. That’s good. Might be a group we could make an alliance with. Maybe.”

“Right. Maybe,” he emphasizes.

They follow the two young people through the streets for a short while until Cory deems them safe to approach. Paige agrees with the decision. She many times wished that someone would’ve offered such a kindness to her and her friends. She’s learned so much about Cory during this trip. He has surprised her at every turn with his selflessness, kindness and complete and total lack of fear. His attraction to her had probably been the biggest surprise, though.

The people they are following don’t connect with anyone else, nor do they call out to anyone. They are simply foraging stores, drugstores and the occasional home for medicine. When they come out of an historic Georgian-style house through the open front doors, Cory approaches them cautiously. They don’t want to get shot by these people. As soon as the man sees Cory, he shoves the woman behind him and holds out an arm in a defensive manner. They are much younger than Paige would’ve guessed. They both look like teenagers.

“You need medicine?” Cory calls when he’s within earshot.

The young man doesn’t say anything but looks at his partner. She nods. Then the boy does so, too.

“Yes… yes, sir,” he says nervously.

Cory casually rubs at his right eye and lowers his rifle at the same time. “You armed?”

“Yes, sir,” the young man admits with surprising honesty.

“Don’t shoot me, kid,” Cory demands.

“No, sir,” the boy replies and holds up both hands in front of him.

“We’ve got meds,” Cory tells them.

The girl immediately skirts around her partner and chirps up. “You do? That’s awesome. Our mom’s sick. She’s been sick for a few weeks. Doc said it’s some kind of flu. He’s not totally sure.”

“Where’s your place?” Cory asks.

This sets them instantly on edge. Their eyes dart to each other.

“Look, we’re not gonna rob you,” Cory admits. “We just want to help. We’re not from this area. We’re on our way back with our family to our place. But we’ve got meds. Plus we’ve got a doctor with us, too. He might be able to take a look at your mother.”

The girl shakes her head, tossing wisps of pale blonde hair around her face. “We can’t say. It’s one of our rules. We don’t tell anyone where we live. We’re not allowed.”

Paige nods and steps forward. “I get it. We don’t either. We never tell anyone about our place. That’s smart, but my brother’s a doctor. He might be able to look at your mom. We’ve had sicknesses run through our community, too.”

The young girl bites her lower lip. Her partner shakes his head again.

“Sorry, we can’t take the chance.”

Paige is frustrated but concedes to their wishes.

“Look, we have to meet our family at a rendezvous point very soon. Come with us. We’ll give you some meds.”

They still seem hesitant, so Paige adds, “No strings attached. You don’t have to tell us where you have a base camp. It’s fine. We understand, but let us try to help you.”

Cory adds, “It’s the best offer you’re gonna get today.”

The kids look at each other again, turn their backs to Cory and Paige- which she’d like to tell them is not a good idea, not in this day and age- and have a quick pow-wow. Then they turn back around and both nod.

“Good,” Cory says and extends his hand to shake the young man’s. “My name’s Cory and this beanpole here is Paige.”

The boy smirks unsurely and nods. “Nice to meet you both. It’s hard to know who to trust. Been robbed a few times.”

“I’m Vivienne, and this is my brother Ty,” the young woman says.

Cory and Paige lead them to the rendezvous point, and she’s not surprised to find her brother and Sam already waiting there. They explain the situation to their family, and naturally, Simon wants to help their sick mother. Again the suggestion of leading them back to their community is rebuked, but they do take the medicine that Simon is finally willing to give over.

“You have a doctor in your community?” Paige asks.

Vivienne answers with a nod and says, “Yeah, he’s really good, but we just don’t have much anymore for meds. We ran out a long time ago, and he just does the best he can.”

“What did he say the sickness is?” Simon asks the girl.

Paige notices that her brother’s hair is getting shaggy because it sticks out below his black stocking cap. Sam is glued to his side. She hasn’t talked all that much since yesterday when she’d stabbed that creep to death. That same melancholy which Paige sometimes sees in her brilliant blue eyes has returned. This time, she isn’t so clever at concealing it, and perhaps she doesn’t even care to.

Again, Vivienne answers for them, “He thinks it’s some kind of flu or something like that. He’s not sure. He said that so many sicknesses have mutated since the fall that he’s not a hundred percent sure what’s wrong with her.”

“Yes, we’ve seen a lot of new sicknesses, as well,” Simon concurs. “Plus, there’s been a resurgence of old diseases like plagues. I’ll give you a jar of our homemade antibiotic solution, too. Your doctor should know what to do with it. The homemade aspirin and the antibiotics should help her.”

“Thanks,” Ty says and takes the jar of medicine.

“We’re trying to get ready for winter and the doc says he’s worried that this sickness will spread through our camp,” Vivienne informs them, pushing a fallen blonde lock behind her ear. Paige notices that her tan cheeks are wind whipped and rosy red.

“Same at our community,” Cory says. “Everyone’s trying to prep for the cold season.”

“If you run into trouble, we’re over in Pleasant View, not far from here,” Simon tells them.

“Or if your doctor has difficulty with the sick woman, tell someone to come and get me,” Cory says. “We work with some other doctors, too. We have a small clinic. Don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

The kids look at each other with clear uncertainty etched on their worried features.

Paige adds, “It’s safe. Our town is safe. There aren’t any… creeps there. You’ll be safe there.”

“Right, but you’ll have to be vetted in order to be allowed in. We don’t just let anyone into the town,” Simon confirms. “Come to our clinic if you need more help.”

“We need to roll, brother,” Cory interjects. “You kids want a ride somewhere?”

Ty immediately rejects the offer, “No, we’ve got a motorcycle. Stashed it in a warehouse close by.”

“Great,” Cory says and shakes the young man’s hand again. “Take care of yourselves out here. There’s been a lot of trouble in the area lately.”

“No kidding,” Vivienne agrees with wide, blue eyes.

They leave the siblings and pile into the Suburban, and when Paige looks back to wave at the two kids, they are already gone. Sam sits beside her in the back seat staring out her window while Cory drives and Simon keeps his rifle at his side and his eyes on their surroundings. He’s been shaken to his core by the last week’s events. Paige has, too, and has decided not to leave the farm again for a while on a long, overnight run again. Maybe ever.

Simon tells them that the new guests on the farm that he’d mentioned on the radio happen to be Doctor McClane’s son and his new family according to Kelly. They want them back because Herb is calling a family meeting for which he wants everyone present. Paige doesn’t ever want to leave the farm again, but she may be forced out soon because of the return of Doc’s son. And that thought makes her stomach twist into stress-filled knots of apprehension. Their stay on the McClane farm is not guaranteed.

CHAPTER TWO

Reagan

Earlier she rose in the afternoon and was confused until she remembered that she’d fallen asleep with her son in the basement. He was long gone, as were the other children. Now she’s sitting in the kitchen at the island with Hannah and Sue discussing their father and his shiny new family. It makes her sick. He disgusts her on every possible level, and she wishes desperately that she could throw him out, make him leave the farm. So far, that hasn’t happened.

Reagan takes a sip of her strong, hot tea and answers Sue, “I’m not sure what the meeting is going to be about, either. I’m assuming Grandpa just wants to lecture us about being gracious hosts to our father figure and his family.”

“Well,” Hannah starts as she dices carrots, “I think we should be kind to his family. They seem relieved to be here.”

“Yes, that they do,” Sue agrees.

“Aunt Reagan,” Arianna blurts into their conversation as she enters the room. “Can you braid my hair?”

“Sure, brat,” Reagan says in accord and takes the brush and rubber band from her ornery niece. She is, no doubt, on a mission to head out to the barns to engage the boys in a foot race. She will likely win because being beaten by them would be devastating and completely unthinkable.

As Reagan twists the three thick strands, Sue says, “He’s staying out in the cabin, and I think that’s weird. Why not stay in the big house? Now we have to move the kids around.”

“Perhaps he feels unwelcome…” Hannah comments.

“He is unwelcome in my opinion,” Reagan cuts in. Grandpa told her that he saw her new step-sister, Gretchen, smoking. If her father stays too long, Reagan may take her up on one.

“We know that much,” Sue mocks and slices potatoes.

“Thanks, Aunt Reagan!” Ari yells and takes off at a fast sprint through the back door, letting the screen slam.

Sue groans and comments, “Lord help us. That one’s too much like you.”

Reagan looks up to notice her sisters grinning. “Hannah?”

Sue laughs and says, “No, dear, not Hannie.”

Reagan smirks and stretches her arms over her head. Her back is sore from sleeping on the bunk bed. They work on food prep for a while, each commenting and all three of them contemplating their father’s arrival.

“What do you think’s going on out there?” Sue asks before dumping her pile of potatoes into the cast iron pot. “Sounds pretty bad, wherever they came from.”
Reagan nods and replies, “I know. Doesn’t sound like the west is any better than here. Hey, I forgot to mention something G said to me this morning. She said something about living in a bunker or something to that extent. I wonder if they’ve been living in a bunker type of compound with other people.”

Hannah furrows her brow. “Not sure. That’s unusual. I thought they were in Portland.”

Sue shakes her head and says, “I don’t believe so. I think he meant that they stayed up there for a while before they went somewhere else.”

“She said that there wasn’t any daylight in the bunker,” Reagan tells them. “Oh, and that they didn’t know of our existence until a few days ago.”

“Yeah, I got that impression,” Sue admits before tying Reagan’s little bouquet of herbs together with string and placing it down in the pot of vegetables.

Kelly comes in the back door and greets them. Then he takes Hannah by the shoulders and plants a kiss on her cheek.

“Hear from the kids?” Sue asks after their family.

He nods before gnawing on a raw carrot. “Yep, talked to Cory a little bit ago. They’ll be home soon. Got delayed ‘cuz they had to help some young people.”

“Is everything all right? They’re safe?” Hannah asks with her usual sense of concern and worry. She’s slid into the role of Grams so easily, and nobody questions it. This was the role she was meant to play.

“Yeah, baby,” Kelly tells her, pressing a kiss to her pale forehead. He leaves a smudge of dirt there since he’s covered in it. Then he tries to wipe it away only to cause more to smear there. “Crap, sorry.”

“Let me help,” Sue offers and wipes a hand towel across Hannah’s brow.

Reagan can’t help but smile. Everyone looks after her sister. She’s just too delicate for this world. Reagan’s even seen the little kids helping Hannah down a set of stairs or taking her hand to show her what she can’t see.

“They’ll be home soon, and everyone’s safe and unharmed. Guess they had a successful trip and found a lot of things.”

Reagan answers Kelly while Sue continues to wipe the dirt from Hannah’s forehead, “That’s good. Just coming back safe is the most important thing.”

“Your grandpa wants to have a meeting with all of us as soon as they get here,” Kelly tells them as he washes his hands in the wide ceramic sink.

“Really? I thought he just wanted us girls there,” Sue says.

“Nope,” Kelly rebuts. “He wants you girls and the husbands and the older kids.”

“Interesting,” Sue remarks as she punches down dough and turns it out onto the counter to be kneaded again.

“Must be about Robert,” Reagan says, referring to her father.
Kelly nods before leaving to go to his room down the hallway. Grandpa still won’t sleep in his own bedroom, so Hannah and Kelly have that whole wing of the house to themselves. Of course, Mary sleeps back there with them most of the time. Reagan’s pretty sure that Kelly would be glad to have her sleep in their room until she turns twenty. He’s beyond protective of his only daughter.

“Either of you see John?” Reagan asks after her husband.

Sue answers, “They were supposed to be cutting field corn in the top pasture. That’s probably where Kelly just came from. Derek’s out in the shed working on that CNG gas compressor thingy.”

“Thanks,” Reagan tells her sister and pulls on her black rubber mud boots. The farm has become muddy and soggy in places, especially anywhere the animals have been grazing.

She leaves her sisters to finish their meal prep and heads out into the cold to find her husband. First, she checks in on the horses, the injured and pregnant ones in the barn. She also finds her new step-siblings and Huntley hanging out together there. Reagan’s glad that he’s being hospitable. Huntley has never been anything but good and kind, albeit a little withdrawn because of what happened to his family members and being taken in by her family. He’s a quiet boy, but fiercely loyal to the family. His dark hair is braided perfectly and hangs on either side of his face down to the middle of his chest. There is a feather behind his left ear, stuck in his braid. He also wears the small, silver dreamcatcher necklace that he told her once came from his grandfather, who was full-blooded Navaho and an elder in their tribe.

As she’s smearing salve onto the forearm of a gelding who’d apparently cut himself on a nail sticking out of the side of the barn that Derek thankfully located, John walks in. The medicine stinks. It’s from a jar of one of Grandpa’s homemade concoctions to treat livestock wounds, but the smell is noxious. The gelding doesn’t care for the smell either because he keeps tossing his head in protest of the event.

“Hey, sexy woman,” John states brightly.

Reagan rolls her eyes at him. She’s hardly anything that resembles sexy right now. She only caught a few hours of sleep, her hair is piled into a messy, haphazard ponytail, and now she’s going to smell like Grandpa’s gross salve. She didn’t even bother looking in the mirror when she rolled out of her son’s bed. She couldn’t face the two dark circles she knew would be staring back at her from beneath her green eyes.

“That’s the best lie I’ve heard all day,” she returns and exits the horse stall. John promptly hands her a tattered rag to clean her hands. Then he slips an arm around her back and pulls her close.

“Not a lie,” he murmurs against her neck.

Reagan pulls free of his grasp, mostly because he’s covered in dirt and dried mud. “What the hell were you guys working on? You and Kelly are both filthy.”

“Sorry, sweetie,” he apologizes needlessly.

As if she could be angry with him. Unfortunately, he also knows this about her and often uses his charm against her. Reagan presses a kiss to his mouth and steps back.

“We were up on the ridge trying to get the last of the corn finished,” John informs her.

“Good, we’re going to need it,” Reagan says as she leads him from the barn.

“Get enough rest, babe?” John asks.

He’s wearing a thermal undershirt and flannel jacket to keep out the wind and cold. Last night turned wicked, and they were all worried about the kids. The weather wasn’t their only concern for Cory and Simon. She, Kelly and John had pulled all-nighters first worrying about them and then patching up the men who were in the battle with them. They were just relieved when they knew that Cory and Simon were back at the cabin with the girls and safe.

“Sure,” she answers her husband. “Grandpa already left without me for the clinic. Pisses me off.”

“It’s ok, babe,” John says, trying to assuage her anger. “He wanted to go. Chet came over and picked him up. Said he had to run to town anyway.”

“He was up just as late as me. He needs more sleep than me, John. I don’t want him working like that anymore. I worry about him.”

John wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close as they walk toward the hog barn.

“He’ll be fine. He’s as bull-headed as you, so it’s not like he’s going to listen. If he needs a break, he’ll take it. At least he knows he’s got you and Simon to pick up the slack.”

Reagan nods but still wishes that her grandfather would’ve waited for her.

“Besides, he’ll be back soon. Said he wants all of us present for that meeting, so he’ll come home early.”

She nods again. “Wonder what this is about?”

John takes her hand and places a kiss to the back of it. Then he opens the door to one of the goat pens in the hog barn.

“Not sure. Probably something about his son,” he says what she’s already guessed.

“Yeah,” Reagan whispers.

She watches as he ties a goat in the milking stall and pulls over a stool. It causes her to grin.

“Boy, do I love milking goats,” he remarks with great sarcasm. “Makes me smell awesome.”

“Maybe we can con one of Robert’s kids or his wife into this chore,” Reagan hints and leans back against the wooden stall to watch her ex-military, warrior, and all around badass husband milk a dairy goat.

“I didn’t get the impression that they had much experience with any of this,” he comments.

“No? Why’s that? We only interacted with them for a few hours last night.”

He shrugs and replies, “Just a hunch. The kids seem to find the farm more of a novelty than a necessity. Same way me and Kel felt when we first arrived, just kind of lost and overwhelmed by it all.”

“G told me that they lived in some sort of bunker, but she didn’t say where,” she supplies.

John chews the inside of his cheek and squints his eyes thinking about her statement but refrains from saying anything.

“Where is your dad?” he finally asks. “Haven’t seen him around today. Day’s half over, but I sure haven’t seen him or his wife anywhere on the grounds.”

Reagan furrows her brow. “Me neither. Of course, I just came out for the first time just a few minutes before you found me in the horse barn.”

“He looked pretty tired last night,” John says with sympathy. “They could just be resting.”

Reagan scoffs. She has no empathy left for her father. He took that along with any other feelings she could’ve had for him when he left her and her sisters at the farm so many years ago. She figured him out a long time before he even did that dastardly deed. Sometimes, her intelligence has been a curse in life. Floating around, head in the clouds and not a care in the world would’ve been nice sometimes, too. Knowing for damn sure that one’s father just dumped them on his own, elderly parents to finish raising and caring for was obvious the minute he told them to pack their things and that they were going for a ‘visit’ with their grandparents. When they’d arrived with their bags, Reagan had her hunch confirmed when she looked at her grandfather’s face. She’d crept down the stairs that first night and heard Robert arguing with his parents over the matter. Grams had reamed him pretty hard about his responsibilities to her and her sisters. Grandpa had pleaded with him in a calmer voice to rethink his decision and the possible detrimental outcome of his actions. She knew in her heart it wasn’t because their grandparents didn’t want them because Reagan had always only ever known love from them, but that what they were saying was true, and their son needed a dose of cold, hard reality splashed in his face. He was shirking his responsibilities as a father. He abandoned them. She knew it then; she still knows it. People don’t change. This man that has reappeared into their lives like an apparition from a Charles Dickens' novel has not changed and will not change. He’s the same Robert she’s always known, a selfish, uncaring man who dumps his children on other people and leaves.

“Got a radio call from town,” John says, interrupting her reverie from the past.

“Who called?” she asks, knowing full well that her husband has changed the topic on purpose.

“Wayne Reynolds,” he answers about their neighbor. “Said he stopped in to check on your patients from last night.”

“How are they? I want to get in there as soon as possible,” Reagan says with concern. One of the young women from the raid on the sex slave camp in Nashville was in pretty bad shape.

“A few are doing better. The girl’s still not awake.”

“Yeah, I was worried about that. I’m gonna have to go in tomorrow.”

“I’ll take you,” he complies and hands her the pail of milk.

Reagan watches as John releases the nanny and brings another into the milking shed. Their son runs into the barn, climbs onto the bale of hay beside Reagan and grins a most toothy grin up at her.

“Hey, Momma,” he greets and holds her hand.

Reagan suppresses a grin and bumps her shoulder against his. He gets his open affection and lack of restraint in showing it from John. His love is unconditional. Also like John. Her love is unyielding, and she sometimes feels overwhelmed and suffocated by her feelings for John and Jacob, but she is just not as good at expressing it as her husband. She can hear Justin, Arianna and Huntley talking just outside of the goat area.

“What’s going on, kid?” she asks.

“Uncle Kelly said to come get you. Uncle Cory’s back. They’re waiting for Great-Grandpa to get home.”

“Sounds like we’d better get going,” John says and releases the goat again. “Comin’, squirt?”

“Piggy-back!” Jacob yells.

Of course, because he never says no to anything concerning their adopted son, he complies and hefts Jake onto his back. By the time they reach the house, everyone else is also filing in, including the kids who were in the city. Paige even reaches out and hugs her.

“That bad, huh?” Reagan asks with a frown.

Simon’s sister pulls away and sighs. “I’m not going out again anytime soon. That sucked.”

“Hey!” Cory says and ruffles the red hair on top of Paige’s head, surprising Reagan that he’d be so bold since they can’t stand each other. “It wasn’t all bad.”

Paige doesn’t respond but barges past him into the house and offers a back-handed swat to his broad chest. Cory, naturally, laughs obnoxiously and follows. Reagan shoots John an inquisitive expression which he returns with an equally confused shrug.

As she’s scrubbing Jacob’s hands in the upstairs bathroom, Sam comes in the open door to do the same at the double sink.

“Grandpa’s home,” she announces. “Hey, big guy.”

Jacob grins at Sam, who he adores. She pats his little head.

“Oh, good,” Reagan answers, relieved beyond belief as she expels a breath. She’s so tired of worrying every damn time someone leaves the farm.

“Yeah,” Sam says on a glum sigh.

“How’d it go?” Reagan asks and immediately notes her adopted little sister’s dark circles under her eyes and her disheveled appearance. She wonders if Sam didn’t sleep much on the trip. She certainly doesn’t blame her.

“Not very well,” Sam answers. “Don’t you know?”

Reagan shuts off the water, dries Jake’s hands before he manages to wiggle free and flee the room, and asks, “No, what do you mean?”

“The raid on the…sex camp. Down at the river with Dave’s men?”

“Yeah, I know about it,” Reagan replies and leans a hip against the countertop as Sam continues to rub a lot of soap on her hands, which don’t seem all that dirty.

“Two of them got me,” she explains.

Her stomach sinks. If the men knew of this, they sure as hell didn’t share this bit of the story. She asks hesitantly, not sure if she wants to fully understand, “What do you mean two of them got you?”

“They kidnapped me when Paige and I stopped to use the restroom. It was awful. I had to stab the man. I… killed him, Reagan,” she says on a jagged inhale and hangs her head.

Reagan places her hand firmly onto Sam’s shoulder and shuts off the water. She didn’t know about this and is upset that John hadn’t told her. He and Kelly had to know. All they were told was that a group down by the river was running a sex slave operation with women and girls. It had been all they needed to know to give the go ahead on a raid.

“That’s how we found out about the camp. The man told me about it, that he was going to take me down there and sell me to them.”

“Jesus. What a bunch of sick fucks,” Reagan swears and strokes Samantha’s hair in a soothing manner. At least, she hopes it has a soothing effect. She’s not Sue or Hannie, but she’s witnessed her sisters doing this to the younger girls in the family. “Are you ok? Did he hurt you, either of them?”

“No, not really,” Sam tells her and furrows her dark brows hard. “Not as bad as I hurt him. And Cory killed the other man, who was just standing watch so his friend could…”

Sam pulls away, but her cheeks are dry. She wasn’t crying as Reagan had thought she might be. Her brilliant blue eyes just seem sort of vacant, which frightens Reagan that she’ll go back into herself, hide from them in her mind like she sometimes does. She also wonders what the psychological limit is for a person before they snap like a dried, frail twig over the traumatic, reoccurring events that keep plaguing them, following them like the dark shadow of the Grim Reaper himself. Every person is different. She hopes Samantha has even more fortitude to get over this latest of horrors in her young, conflicted life. If anyone understands her, Reagan sure as hell does.

“You did the right thing,” she tells her, but Sam tries to look away. Reagan grasps her chin firmly. “Listen to me, Sam. What you did, you did to survive. Nobody’s gonna judge you for that. We all do what we have to now. It’s them or us, and, sweetie, I sure as hell don’t want it to be you. None of us does, ‘kay?”

Samantha nods, but Reagan isn’t convinced.

“Take a few minutes to freshen up,” she says gently. “I’ll tell everyone you needed to get cleaned up. They’ll understand. I think they were still trying to find Derek anyway.”

Sam nods again and tries at a smile but mostly fails. Reagan takes a second to study her from head to toe, still worried about her.

“Who are the people that came here?” Sam asks with a nervous edge in her voice.

Reagan rolls her eyes, “No worries there. It’s just my father and his new family.”

“So… they’re safe?” Sam asks.

“Unfortunately, they’re safe and look to be staying for a while…or hopefully not.”

“That’s wonderful, Reagan,” Sam says with an incredibly misplaced sense of relief and joy for Reagan’s returned father.

“Don’t get too excited. He’s still a dick. This isn’t the happy reunion you might think.”

“And the people with him?” Sam asks with fearful eyes. “Are they…?”

“They’re safe, too. Like I said. Don’t worry about them. As a matter of fact, his kids are about your age. Maybe you guys can take them under your wings and show them the ropes around here. I’m way too busy at the clinic now to help new people learn our ways on the farm.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam says with a nod and a small grin.

“I’m heading down,” she tells the girl. “You gonna be ok?”

Sam nods again before Reagan leaves her to herself. Sometimes just getting some quiet time on the farm is enough to soothe one’s soul. The trouble is finding a quiet place on the entire property that isn’t filled with people.

A short time later, she and her sisters, their husbands and the four oldest kids gather into Grandpa’s study to hear what he has to say. Reagan notices that Simon seems distraught. His eyes are troubled, his demeanor withdrawn and stressed out. She knows it is likely because of the events of Sam’s attack. He’s so protective of her that it must be eating him alive that she was kidnapped on their watch. Cory stands on the other side of the room next to Kelly and is chuckling at something his brother has said to him. Of the four kids who went to the city, he seems to be the only one who doesn’t look ready to drop. Paige appears to have had a shower since her hair is pulled back into a slick, wet ponytail, but she also looks exhausted. Sam comes in last and takes up a position next to Simon. Reagan watches as she furtively slips her hand into his down at his side. Simon doesn’t pull away.

Grandpa lights his pipe, takes a seat behind his wide desk and pulls a stack of papers from one of the drawers. As usual, his slow pace and manner make Reagan want to scream and rush him, but she tries to suppress those urges.

“Your grandmother and I talked about this frequently. We knew it was going to be necessary, especially once you girls married and had your own families. We just always thought it was going to be further down the road and under different circumstances,” he explains slowly.

“What is it, Grandpa?” Sue asks for them.

He places the papers at the edge of his desk toward them and continues, “I want you to know that this decision was difficult. Now that Robert has finally come home and has a family, it will make things more complicated. I’ll discuss this with him later in private. I think it will go over better if I speak with him alone.”

“Go on,” Reagan encourages.

Pushing his glasses further up on his nose, he says, “This decision wasn’t an easy one. I hope it doesn’t cause problems between you girls or hard feelings. We’d never want that, but this seemed like the right thing to do. So your grandmother and I decided before her death that we wanted to leave the farm to Hannah… and Kelly.”

“Oh,” Sue says and then quickly adds in a genuinely nonchalant voice, “That’s fine, Grandpa. You don’t have to worry that it would upset us.”

Reagan also chimes in, “Yeah, it’s cool. We kind of always figured you’d leave the place to Hannie.”

He nods and says, “I know. We knew you wouldn’t fight over it. We’d actually hoped that you, Reagan, would come home to take over my practice some day and move in here with her once we were gone. It wouldn’t have been as easy for Sue since she had to stay with Derek wherever he was stationed.”

“Right,” Sue says with a nod.

“This is where it gets more complicated now. Robert used to be the sole inheritor of the farm. We changed the will about three years ago after Kelly and Hannah were married. We knew that we’d never see a change in our lives with the state of our country.”

“Probably not in any of our lives,” Derek comments, earning many nods of agreement from the crowd.

“We also wrote into the will that it will be exclusively up to Hannah and Kelly who will be allowed to live here. I’m sure that you all will help them in making difficult decisions if it ever comes to that, but it will ultimately come down to what they decide.”

“I’m ok with that,” Reagan says, to which Sue agrees and so do their husbands.

“I don’t know how your father is going to take this news,” he says calmly and places his pipe in an ashtray.

“Are you thinking of changing it again now that he’s home?” Hannah asks.

Grandpa shakes his head and removes his glasses. Then he rubs at his tired eyes. Reagan knows he’s fatigued. They both pulled yet another all-nighter at the clinic sewing Dave the Mechanic’s men back together and treating very ill women from the camp. There are bound to be so many more.

“No, not a chance,” he says emphatically. “It’s more important now than ever that we must adhere to the wishes of your grandmother. She’s no longer with us to express her opinion, but I know that this is what she wanted. We spoke directly to this exact scenario happening, and she still felt very strongly about Hannah and Kelly taking deeded ownership of the property. She loved Kelly like a son.”

Kelly’s head pops up, and he nods solemnly before saying, “Thank you, Herb. That means a lot to me.”

Not one for showing too much emotion, Kelly resumes looking at his knees where his hands are resting. Under one, massive hand is Hannah’s. This is probably a lot for the both of them to take in. They will eventually someday, when Grandpa passes, feel the full burden of vetting who will and can remain on the farm.

“Robert has no hold on this property. He isn’t willed to inherit it. After he left that last time,” he says and pauses, likely because it is difficult for him to think of his own son being a deserter of his daughters. “We had already discussed the change. We had it changed when he never returned after his last visit. At that time, Sue hadn’t married Derek yet, and we willed the farm to all three of you girls. Then after she married, we considered changing it. We always meant to get around to doing it, but we just hadn’t made the time.”

“I think it’s a good decision, Herb,” John says.

“Unless, of course, you get on Hannah’s bad side,” Derek says jokingly. “Then she’s kicking you out.”

Everyone chuckles and Grandpa adds, “Reagan’ll be first. Don’t worry. She’ll toss Reagan out on her ear for the swearing.”

Laughter swells and finally dies down.

Hannah puts in gently, “I could never throw out my sisters.”

Since Reagan is sitting next to her on the sofa, she leans her head against Hannie’s shoulder.

“What about us?” Paige asks hesitantly. “I mean, we’re not family, so where’s that leave me and Simon and Huntley?”

“Nobody has to leave,” Kelly tells her. “Herb just wants to make sure that if it ever comes to it, that the farm is protected from outsiders.”

“We are outsiders,” Paige adds and bites her lower lip.

“No way,” Cory says loudly. “You guys are family. You’re not going anywhere.”

Reagan notes the way he is grinning at Paige. It’s unusual. They are frequently glaring at one another.

“Right,” Grandpa confirms. “This is just a legality. When I die, I want to ensure that the farm is properly handed down and that not just anyone can bring people here. It’s for the protection of the people here.”

“Don’t want it falling into the wrong hands,” John says, to which Grandpa nods.

“Does anyone have any objections to this?” Grandpa asks and resumes smoking his pipe.

“No, not me, sir,” Derek says.

John and Kelly both say the same. The older kids mimic them. She and Sue both shake their heads. Hannah is the only one who doesn’t say anything.

“Hannah?” Grandpa asks. “What’s on your mind, darling?”

She sighs softly, furrows her pale brow and says, “I don’t know if this is fair. I’m also not sure if I want that responsibility.”

“It’s fine with us, Hannah,” Reagan says and pats her hand. “You and Kelly should be the owners of the farm. It’s more your farm than ours anyway. You were younger than us when we moved here. I moved away soon after and so did Sue. Grams wanted it this way.”

“I’m not sure,” she worries.

“Hannah,” Grandpa says, “Kelly is a very responsible and wise man. He’s patient. He has a cool head in dealing with people. I want him in charge. Someday things might get a little better. Maybe Derek and Sue will move into town. Maybe John and Reagan move into town part-time so that she can be closer to the clinic. I want you and Kelly in charge here. And if a miracle happens and the whole world fixes itself in the next few years, then I want to know that you and Kelly will stay on here.”

“Of course, we will,” Hannah answers for both of them. “I could never dream of leaving.”

“Look,” he explains and regards John and Derek, “I’m going to find out from Robert what’s going on out there, the political situation that he was talking about. I want to know. We all have a right to know. If something is going to pull you away from the farm, I don’t want Kelly going, too.”

John tips his head back and gives a slow nod of understanding. “Yes, sir. I get it.”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “Kelly would need to stay here in case something happened to you. Someone has to be in charge of the farm if we leave it to go back to war.”

“Exactly,” Grandpa says.

This makes Reagan feel nauseous. She has already discussed this with John. He isn’t leaving the farm to run a fool’s errand for some President. No way.

“I see,” Hannah says with a frown.

“Nobody’s leaving the farm right now, dear,” Grandpa tells her.

“Or ever,” Reagan adds testily, earning a lopsided frown from Derek. He’s obviously been thinking about this.

“What’s going on?” Cory asks with confusion.

“Fill you in later,” Kelly tells him.

“I’ll let you all get back to whatever you were doing,” Grandpa says. “Unless there are any other objections, then I want Kelly and Hannah to sign this in front of everyone to make it more legal.”

They all go their separate ways, and later at dinner, Reagan still doesn’t see her father again. The group is unable to make the trip back to town to check on their patients, but she does give orders over the radio to Dave’s men and the nurse from the camp. Finally, after midnight, she turns in for the night after spending a few hours teaching some new medical procedures to Simon regarding high-risk prenatal and obstetrics care. She’s quite sure that some of the women at the camp will eventually need prenatal care. He even confirmed for her that some were pregnant. His enthusiasm for medicine has increased even more since returning, and he has a newfound interest in obstetrics. He doesn’t speak with her about Sam, but she knows it weighs heavily on his mind. And finally, when she’s too tired to keep going, Reagan leaves, but Simon doesn’t turn in. He continues to work in the kitchen on the island with a pile of medical books. Sometimes Simon reminds Reagan of herself when she’d first taken a calling to medicine.

She crawls into bed, hoping not to awaken her husband. Reagan tries to snuggle with John but can’t curl into his side like she prefers because their son is already there. So instead, she wraps an arm around her son and pushes her fingertips into John’s hair on the other side. It makes her feel safer being physically connected with them. If she’s being honest with herself, Reagan knows that it’s also because she needs to feel connected with her husband in case he makes a decision to leave the farm. He did so once. She can’t ever allow that to happen again.

CHAPTER THREE

Cory

The next morning he wakes up disoriented. He has been relegated to the basement, back to the place he started at the farm. The cabin he and Simon built by hand is now in the custody of others. Apparently, Reagan’s dad and his wife are occupying it. Paige has also been booted out. Kelly told him that Sue and Derek had gone out there early yesterday morning and packed up their belongings and placed them in rooms in the house. He’s not sure why their father didn’t just want to sleep in the big house with his family, but Cory’s not exactly in a position to argue or question such things. At least he’s not in the kids’ room with the bunk beds and the little snorers. He and Simon are sharing a room with two double beds instead of bunks. Reagan’s step-brother and sister have been moved upstairs to the second floor at the other end of the hall from Sam, who is now sharing a room with Paige. He and the other three who were in the city have yet to meet any of these new guests. The brother and sister stayed in their shared room the rest of the night, and the father and his wife never came in from the cabin. Obviously, these are very private people. Or else they were just exhausted from their trip to the farm. He doesn’t know much about them yet because the family hadn’t told them a whole hell of a lot. He also got the impression from his brother that none of them know much about them, either. It puts him slightly on edge. Plus, the living quarters are quickly becoming too crowded for his tastes. Living almost a year on his own with his dog has changed him. Cory doesn’t like being in tight confines with too many people. He may have to move out to the med shed or to the cabin where he often shared many pleasurable evenings with Evie over on the Johnson’s farm. Unfortunately, that would put him too far away from Paige.

She being two floors up is also too far away from him. He’d prefer it if she were in the same bed with him, but bunking with her brother is going to complicate that issue. When they’d gone back to the city yesterday before returning home, just the two of them, he’d had high hopes of seducing her somewhere before they returned to the cabin. It hadn’t happened. She’d been holding back, but he knows she’s just playing tough with him. He could see the desire in her eyes. The problem is going to be how to get her alone, away from their families, and the prying eyes and ears of the farm’s many occupants. Their relationship is going to be difficult, and he’s not even sure if that’s what they could call it.

Cory has no idea what people call dating and courtship anymore. The last time he had an actual date was in high school. Most people his age just hook up with people now. There isn’t always the emotional attachment that comes with an actual relationship. Everyone has lost people close to them, so nobody wants to go through that again. He sure as hell didn’t want involved with someone. But Paige is different. She makes him want more. And that scares the hell out of him.

Last night there was another meeting, not about the future ownership of the farm but about the issues that John has discovered in town with someone stealing from people and even from their own medical clinic. That shit’s about to stop. He’s going in to the clinic today with Reagan and some others, and Cory has every intention of rooting out the thief. If it’s just a kid, then he’ll let him off with some hard labor. If it’s an adult, then the dude is fucked. Nobody can ever be allowed to take from them. He and John are going on a manhunt in town.

Cory grabs clothing, mindless of waking Simon because the professor’s already gone. He spent last night studying until the wee hours of the morning. When he’d come to bed, Cory had noticed the time of four a.m. He’s not sure what the hell was so important that his friend didn’t catch up on sleep from the trip, but Simon had burned the midnight oil plus some. And he’s gone already this morning, too.

He drops to the deck and knocks out a hundred push-ups before heading upstairs. Then he grabs his jacket off its hook near the entry door since there weren’t any available spaces in the mudroom. That’s when he overhears snippets of a conversation coming from Doc’s office where the door is slightly ajar.

“… I can’t believe you and Mom did this without talking to me about it first.”

“Robert, you weren’t exactly around to discuss such a decision,” Doc says to the man, who Cory realizes is his long lost son.

“I’m your only son. I should inherit the farm,” Robert replies. His tone is a mixture of surprise and spite.

“You haven’t been here for years,” Doc says calmly. “I’m trying my damnedest not to judge you right now. But you left. You only came home to see these girls a few times. I haven’t heard from you since the beginning of the fall, and you never made mention of your other family.”

“I knew I’d be strongly judged here if I told you or Mom about them,” Robert argues with disdain.

“Perhaps,” Doc concedes. “But we still had a right to know, especially since you obviously felt like you had a claim to the farm.”

“I do have a claim,” he says firmly. “I had plans for the farm.”

“It doesn’t matter how you feel,” Doc tells him with a certain amount of finality. “My decision is made. Your mother is actually the one who initiated the conversation, to begin with. She loved Hannah’s husband. She and I both trust them to make the right decisions when it comes to the farm and the well-being of the people inhabiting it.”

“This is ridiculous,” his son says.

A woman’s voice breaks in with, “Robert, I have to agree with your father. Your girls should inherit this farm. They’ve lived a long time here. They all have children of their own now. They need this place.”

“Stay out of this, Lucy,” Robert reprimands brusquely.

“She has a right to her own opinion, Robert,” Doc says with less patience.

“Whatcha’ doin’, Cory?” Ari asks, startling Cory out of his eavesdropping.

“Hey, kid,” he returns and ruffles her dark hair, earning a snarky pout from the little minx.

“Is the general in there?” the girl behind Ari asks.

Cory looks at the young woman with the short, choppy black hair and nose piercing and replies, “The general?”

“My dad,” she replies with a wrinkle of her small nose.

“Is your dad named Robert?”

She nods and grimaces as if she finds the idea of him being her father distasteful.

“Then, yeah, he’s in there with Doc,” he tells her.

“This is G,” Ari introduces them with a big smile.

“G?” he asks with a degree of doubt.

“Her name’s Gretchen, but everyone just calls her G. She doesn’t like her name just like I don’t like Arianna. Mostly I don’t like it because that’s what my mom and dad say when they’re yelling at me. I just like Ari.”

“You get called Arianna a lot, I’ve noticed,” Cory comments, earning him, this time, a slug to his bicep. He just chuckles at her and extends his hand to G, which she refuses and just waves.

“Hi,” she says shyly.

“You have a brother, right?” he asks since he crashed early last night and didn’t meet any of the new people. He assumes they’re all harmless. If they weren’t, they’d probably be dead already because his brother and friends were still on the farm while he was in town.

She nods and says, “Yeah, Lucas. He’s outside with… the blind sister’s husband. I think. I can’t keep everyone straight.”

“Hey!” Hannah calls from the kitchen. “I’m blind, not deaf.”

G’s cheeks redden, and she calls back, “Sorry.”

“Basset hound ears. Better watch out for Hannie,” Cory warns her in a whisper. “We’re all a little scared of her.”

“No kidding!” Ari agrees.

“I need to talk to the general,” the new girl replies and moves toward Doc’s office.

“Oh, hey,” Cory stops her. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you. Sounds like it’s kind of… tense.”

A lopsided rueful grin splits her features. She’s obviously very satisfied that her father is in distress. Then she nods. He notes her appearance and finds it odd that she’s the daughter of a general and is dressed like a grunge tomboy. Everyone today dresses rather poorly in ripped and dirty clothing, but this is the McClane farm. The laundry still works. Her appearance is purposefully affected to look this way. Under her gray flannel shirt is a black t-shirt that matches a pair of ripped black jeans that look too big for her, maybe even men’s jeans. Her nails are painted black. He has no idea if she’s just painted them with a marker or if it’s actual fingernail polish. Cory can see a bold defiance in her light eyes and wonders at the origins of this arrogant, angry attitude.

“Where are you going, Cory?” Ari asks.

She’s always had a crush on him. He knows it, but she’ll grow out of it once she realizes someday that he’s too old for her. He only sees her like he does all of the other children on the farm. They are just miniature people who need a lot more protection, even if she does think she’s an adult. He just wishes that his sister was still alive to be her friend. They were such good friends. Em was so patient and kind with Ari when she was younger and more demanding and less understanding that Em was older than her and not exactly into playing dolls anymore. Perhaps this G girl will befriend her. Of course, that could be dangerous. Defiance paired with ornery? The boys on the farm better watch out.

“Headed into town soon with your aunt,” he answers.

“Cool!” she returns, and Cory knows what’s coming next. He automatically starts shaking his head.

“You aren’t going, kiddo.”

“Crap!”

“Arianna!” Hannah scolds from the kitchen.

“See what I mean?” Cory asks G, whose nervous expression is worth a million bucks. “We’re all afraid of her.”

Hannah returns with, “You wouldn’t have to be if you didn’t all speak like heathens around here!”

“See you girls around,” Cory tells the two youngsters and strides toward the kitchen. “Stay outta’ trouble.”

Ari shoots him a grin filled with mischief before taking G by the hand toward the front porch.

He plunks a kiss to Hannah’s smooth forehead before exiting through the kitchen door. His rifle is slung over his shoulder, but he needs to hit the armory before going to town. He’s almost out of ammo.

When he opens the door to the shed, he finds Simon and his sister in there working at a reloading bench. She’s actually reloading shotgun shells. Impressive. And they sure as hell need more. Cory has to suppress the urge to cross the room to her and spin that stool where she’s sitting until she’s wedged between his legs and his mouth is covering hers. Instead, he clears his throat loudly and attempts to squash those thoughts.

“Getting more ammo?” Simon asks him without turning. “That’s it, Paige. Just watch the grain count. Don’t load ‘em too heavy.”

“Yeah, you coming?” he asks Simon who shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m hanging back here,” he explains. “Doc and Reagan have me studying obstetrics right now. I need to work on prenatal care. I saw at least two or three women at the camp that were pregnant. Dave said there’s a few more back in their town who are also pregnant. He’s got a medic but not a doctor. Not that I’m a doctor, either.”

“You sure as hell are in my book, brother,” Cory praises and pats Simon on the shoulder blade once, knocking him forward. The professor sends a testy glare over his shoulder at Cory and adjusts his glasses which had slipped down his nose a tad.

“No, I’m not a doctor,” he corrects again. “I just want to be of some help where I can, though.”

“I think you’re not a doctor,” Paige agrees with a grin. “But you’ll be a great one soon enough. You do almost all the same stuff the other docs around here do. Close enough in my opinion.”

“Whatever,” he scolds impatiently and resumes digging another box of primers out for Paige. “I’m going out to the barn to study. The Reynolds are butchering a steer. Doctor McClane said I could dissect the eye. Maybe the liver, too.”

“Simon, that’s disgusting,” Paige grimaces hard at her brother and even sticks out her tongue in a retching manner.

“And the tongue!” Simon says with an unnatural excitement, in Cory’s opinion.

“Have at ‘er, Professor,” he jokes with a wry grin and receives a punch to his shoulder from Simon.

Cory is relieved when the professor leaves the shed. He’s finally alone with Paige.

He turns to face the door, leaning his back against the reloading bench, so that he can see if someone comes in. Discretion is integral at this point in their relationship.

“Hey,” he says softly and leans toward her.

Paige refuses to make eye contact but instead jams another empty shell into the reloading unit. Her pale brow furrows either at him or her work. He hopes it’s not at him.

She’s wearing a blue hoodie that makes her gray eyes seem bluer than their usual silvery color. Her hair is piled high on top of her head in a ponytail. Cory would like to pull it free and watch the red waves fall over her shoulders. He refrains.

“Wanna’ catch a movie later? Maybe go for a cappa-frappe?”

She blows through her nose and grins at him, finally meeting his gaze.

“A movie? And what’s a cappa-frappe?” she asks with a smile.

“Well, around here, it’s mostly goat milk mixed with some shitty instant coffee. And the movie is usually just sitting on the horse fence watching them,” he explains and tugs gently at the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Her eyes instantly dart to the open door of the shed.

“No!” she hisses.

“I’ve gotta go to town,” he tells her his plans. “But I’ll be back later today. Want to go for a ride? I mean, a patrol?” he hints.

“No!” Paige repeats nervously, looking around again. “What are you doing? Are you nuts? We’re…”

“’Bout you, apparently,” he helplessly admits with a grin.

“Forget it, Cory,” she warns and holds out her index finger.

Cory snatches her finger and pulls it toward him only to have Paige yank her hand back.

“Stop it!” she says in a vehement whisper. “We had an agreement. Stick to the plan. Remember?”

“I might have lost consciousness when I agreed to that, so I’m not sure it was binding,” he explains with a grave nod.

She huffs and blows a cluster of loose hairs out of her eyes. “Hey, don’t start with that. We’re not renegotiating. You were wide awake.”

“Technically I was semi-comatose because we’d just had sex for the third time, so I don’t remember much of the conversation,” he lies smoothly. She isn’t falling for it.

“Shh! Cory, seriously. Be quiet and cut it out,” Paige threatens with the finger again.

She is relieved of further disparagement when John walks into the room with purpose.

“Almost ready, Cor?” he asks, then stops because he sees Cory standing so close to Paige. Everyone knows that they don’t get along so well. That was before the trip. This is now. Everything is different, even though Paige is trying to put up a valiant effort at resisting him. He definitely gives her credit. She’s doing a good job of it, but she can’t hold out forever. He’s fairly confident that he’ll be able to wear her down.

“Sure, John,” he says and shoves away from the bench. John disappears into the armory without another comment but with a look of speculative curiosity. Cory touches the black leather strings still tied around her thin wrist and winks at her. “Later, Red.”

“Ugh,” she groans. “I’m going to town, too.”

“What? Why? You don’t have to,” he tells her.

She finally looks directly at him and answers, “Because I want to go to the library, and I want to check on the wall build, see how it’s coming.”

“Slow,” he says. “It’s the same, slow process it was before we left. Just stay here.”

“Why?”

“Because you said you couldn’t wait to get back to the farm, that you weren’t ever leaving it again.”

She sighs and says, “Yeah, well, I changed my mind. I want to go. I’m looking for some books at the library and I want to check out the build.”

“But…”

“I already got it cleared with your brother,” she says quickly. “I don’t need your permission, too.”

Cory’s purses his lips and squints his eyes at her. She’s being very sassy today, and he’s not sure how to handle her. He’s also not sure about most women. The more one pushes, the more they tend to push back harder because they are mostly blockheads in his experience.

“Fine,” he returns and grits his teeth.

“Fine,” she mimics and swivels her seat back toward the workbench again.

“But carry your handgun and don’t go anywhere alone,” he orders.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she says.

“Good,” Cory says with finality.

“Good!” she repeats after him again.

This causes his eye to twitch, so he leaves her and goes to the armory in the back of the shed.

“Having trouble out there?” John asks of his conversation with Paige. “Need back-up?” he further jokes and bumps his shoulder against Cory’s while they load ammo into empty magazines for their weapons.

Cory chuffs and shakes his head. “Nah, we’re all good.”

John’s left eyebrow shoots up with more interest. Cory makes fast work of collecting enough ammo for both of his weapons.

“Not like that,” he explains. “We’re just trying to get along better. Besides, weren’t you the one bustin’ my balls before we left that I should make an effort to get along better with the beanpole?”

“Uh huh,” John says with a slow nod of disbelief.

“I took your advice,” Cory says and leaves the armory. He manages to send a devious grin and a salute to Paige before he exits the shed. He didn’t like the look he thought he was sensing in John’s knowing eyes. The guy is like a brother to him, but he’s way too insightful for his own good.

Reagan is busy loading the pick-up truck with her medical boxes, so Cory rushes over to help. They’ve also placed quite a few containers full of the shoes they found at Dick’s Sporting Goods in Nashville in the bed of the truck. Some of Dave’s men are supposed to be meeting them in town to make the exchange. The shoes and some other articles should help the women and young girls from the sex camp. It bothered Cory that most of them didn’t have shoes on their bare feet. It bothered Simon, as well, and when they’d told the girls of it, they’d both been very angry. Paige especially sympathized with them. She also knows what it’s like not having a decent pair of shoes. Survival’s hard enough these days without the lack of shoes to add to it. The family has even bagged up some clothing they’d found over the years in abandoned homes to donate to the homeless women.

“Ready to go, Little Doc?” Cory asks, getting a nod from her.

He’s more than surprised when Sam comes out of the house with her backpack slung over her shoulder.

“You coming, too, Sam?” Cory asks as he climbs over the wheel well to take a seat in the bed of the truck.

“Yeah, I wanna’ help,” she tells him and reaches up for his hand.

Cory tugs her up over, and Sam stashes her pack on the floor of the bed and then sits on it for comfort.

“You coulda’ stayed home on this one, little sister,” he tells her. She’s been through a lot this week.

“I know,” she answers with her usual demure grin. “I just want to get back at it. Stay busy.”

Her eyes skirt around until she finally just looks out at the pasture full of horses. He still wishes that he could’ve been the one to kill the bastard that had taken her instead of Sam having to do it. That kind of thing can weigh a person down, and she’s already been through too much in her young life. Little Sam doesn’t need to carry around that kind of burden, even if it was completely justified.

Doc comes out of the house last followed by two young people. The one he recognizes as G, and the other must be her brother, Lucas.

“Thought you guys could show the new kids our town and maybe introduce them to some of the people there,” Doc says to John, who is standing near the tailgate.

“Sure, why not?” he answers agreeably.

Both of the young people climb into the bed, and Cory notices that Sam inches closer to him. She’s very unsettled since her attack. It’s fine with him. If it makes her feel safer sitting closer to him, then so be it. Paige comes out of the shed last, and he’s relieved just slightly seeing that she took his advice and grabbed a pistol that she has strapped to her hip. She climbs in the bed of the truck, too, and sits next to Sam.

“Hi, I’m Lucas,” the guy with the dark hair says and extends his hand toward Cory, who shakes it firmly.

“Cory, and this is Sam,” he says, introducing them. Lucas looks close in age to Cory, so he’s not sure what’s going on with the family dynamic. Some of the numbers running through his head aren’t adding up.

“I’m Paige,” she says and sends a wave to Reagan’s new step-brother, who seems to be older than Hannah. Strange.

They have good manners but don’t talk much as John drives them to town. They make a pit-stop and pick up Chet Reynolds and then two of the Johnson’s kids, who also help out a lot in their small town with the wall build and on patrols.

John talks animatedly with Chet and the older Johnson boy while the other is riding in the back with them. He notices that Lucas’s sister also scoots closer to her brother when Phillip Reynolds climbs in. He’s certainly not a threat. He’s a good kid, very accurate shot because Cory’s hunted with him before, and he wouldn’t harm a fly if he didn’t have to. But G is leery of him just the same. Sam trusts him because he’s a part of their inner circle of teenagers and young adults- at nineteen- with whom they have constant contact. However, G doesn’t know him, and she’s not making any attempts at it, either. She also doesn’t seem too fond of Cory, which isn’t much of a surprise. He knows he puts off the vibe of an imminent threat because of his size alone. It’ll just take her a while to realize he’s not going to harm her.

He hates the fact that all of these innocent young women have a certain amount of natural fear when it comes to being around strange men now. He just hopes that killing the perverts at the camp the other night knocked a dent in the deviancy factor still out there. For now, though, his mind is on the mission today, and that’s catching the town thief.

CHAPTER FOUR

Sam

Going to town wasn’t how she’d planned to spend her first full day home, but it was better than sitting around reliving the attack over and over again in her mind. Staying at home and dwelling on what happened would only drive her crazy. Being left with only her thoughts as a companion was the worst possible idea. At least working at the clinic or helping out around town will give her something to do. Idle hands are definitely not what she needs right now. What she needs is to go and visit her family home, but gas is in great shortage, and she hates to ask Simon to take her knowing this. He’d been busy back at the farm anyway.

When they arrive at the clinic, it is total chaos, and she’s immediately pulled in to work. Dave’s men are jotting down women’s names on charts and starting information gathering on them in order of illness and importance. They make good triage nurses, but she’s not going to say that to them. They are rather large men. She’ll just steer clear, avoid them and be thankful for the extra help since G went exploring their town, and Paige went somewhere, too. As Grandpa likes to say, “many hands make for light work.”

Dave the Mechanic is there with a group of his men and quite a few of the women who are ill or injured and in need medical care.

“Sam, it looks like we’ve got a pretty good case of strep running through the women at the camp,” Reagan says to her without preamble.

“Yes, I think so,” she acknowledges. “I just looked at two of them with Dave’s medic, who said the same.”

Most of the people needing treatment are sitting on benches in their small waiting room, on the front porch, the steps of the porch, and in the beds of the trucks that brought them. There are over thirty women who need treatment, not counting the patients that are being kept across the street in the old Victorian home with the faded purple siding. One of the larger men in Dave’s group, a man she remembers from meeting them in the street the other day with Simon and Cory, is standing guard to the house. He is an imposing figure and the perfect person for the job. Reagan told her that he expressed a great deal of concern over the young woman who’d been knocked unconscious on his watch during the raid. She can only imagine how he handled the man who’d done so.

“Antibiotics?” she asks Reagan.

“Oh, yes,” Reagan says emphatically. “If we don’t get this under control, it could hit Dave’s camp and wipe out people and children. This is very serious.”

“Oh,” Sam whispers.

Reagan touches her shoulder for a brief second before saying, “It’s ok. We’ll knock this out. They’re just sick from exposure, dehydration, minor illnesses, nothing serious. But strep can be serious if it’s not treated. Just dose them like we do any other type of infection.”

“Got it,” Sam says.

“Send a bucket of our homemade antibiotic back with Dave when they leave. He might need more if it pops up in other people. Don’t want it spreading like it already did through that camp.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she says to her mentor and turns to leave the back room where she’d been pulling supplies.

“Hey,” Reagan calls softly. “Glad you’re back, kid.”

Sam nods shyly and leaves. She’s also glad she’s back, especially since their tiny town seems to be the only safe place left on earth. She’d gone with the guys before to Nashville, and it hadn’t been so dangerous. This time had been very different, which just further proves to Sam that nothing is safe, not here, not there, not anywhere anymore. It only takes a few short months now for a town to collapse, be overrun by bad people. She has no doubts that Pleasant View is hanging on by a thread, even though the family and the townspeople are doing everything they can to keep it safe and fortify it. She knows it will eventually fall, as well.

“How can I help?” Paige asks.

“I figured you were running over to the wall,” Sam questions her friend.

“It looked like you guys were outnumbered without Doc and Simon here, so I came back,” she says with a shrug. “Just don’t make me do anything that has to do with blood. I’ll hit the deck, and you’ll be treating me for a concussion.”

Sam chuckles. “Got it. No blood. How ‘bout helping me give out doses of this antibiotic. Oh, and here. Pull this mask on if you’re working in here. And these gloves.”

“Cool,” she says.

“Strep is running rampant, so we need to protect the kids back at the farm by not taking it there when we leave today,” she explains.

“Sounds bad,” Paige remarks quietly.

“Just a germ,” Sam says with a grin. “You can shadow me, and then once you feel comfortable, you can go off on your own with a jar of the antibiotic solution and dose people without my help.”

They work for a few hours until every woman from the camp is given antibiotics just to be safe. She helps Reagan stitch up two different women’s injuries that weren’t dealt with the other night. Reagan tells them that it’s safe in their town and that they need to report injuries and illnesses. Paige is nowhere to be seen during the stitching procedures. They find out that five women are pregnant. One of them is only fifteen years old. It turns Sam’s stomach to think that it could’ve been her. She was only fifteen when Bobby first raped her. She got lucky that he didn’t get her pregnant. She would love to have children someday, but not until things get better, which may never be.

She joins Paige on the tailgate of the truck to grab a quick lunch that she and Hannah packed for each person making the trip to town. It’s good to be home, to the meals that Sue and Hannah prepare, to the comfort of her own bedroom, and to the warmth of the old house. Today, lunch is chunks of cold chicken, bacon, and tomatoes in a canning jar. As usual, the seasoning is perfect. Apples are available in a basket for anyone who wants one.

“Will you show me where the library is later, Sam?” Paige asks when they are finished with their lunch and also finished taking a few crates of medical supplies into the clinic from the truck.

“Um… I’m supposed to be helping Reagan,” she explains.

“Nah,” Reagan calls from the other end of the hall. “Go ahead and go now. Dave’s nurse is here again and so is his medic. We’re good for the time being.”

Sam pauses and listens a moment as Reagan says to Dave, “Look, these women are severely malnourished and sickly.”

“We know,” he replies. “Fuckers.”

Sam can’t help but smile at his crude language. She knows it’s not good Christian behavior to talk like that, but it still comes off as funny from him. He’s standing next to Reagan with his hand on his slim hip, his handgun strapped to his thigh. He’s also smoking, not something he should do in a medical clinic, but Reagan must not care. She’s probably just glad for his help. Everyone is thankful for the new alliance.

“You’ve gotta’ work hard to get as many vegetables and fruit into them as you can. That’s going to help more than anything else.”

“You got it, boss,” he says with an impish grin.

Reagan frowns, “Funny.”

He’s obviously heard about Reagan’s nickname that John calls her.

“Just get them to eat their damn veggies before we have an outbreak of rickets and fucking scurvy,” she says irritably.

Dave salutes and says, “Yes, ma’am.”

Then he walks away, out the front door, and swears at some of his men who immediately jump to attention. She just shakes her head.

Sam agrees to take her friend to the library in town. It’s only a few blocks from the clinic, and they head out, taking G, who has reappeared out of nowhere, with them. She’s a quiet girl, doesn’t talk much, and seems to hate her father. Sam doesn’t relate to that because she loved her father dearly, and he was quite possibly the most brilliant, caring man who ever lived with the exception of Herb McClane, of course.

“What are you looking for at the library?” Sam asks Paige and waves to one of the townspeople she recognizes.

“A loser’s guide to surviving an apocalypse?” she jokes.

Sam smiles and says, “Yeah, right. Wish there was something like that.”

“I just miss reading, so I thought I could pick up some books while we’re in town. When I was traveling with my friends, I only found a few libraries here and there that weren’t either burned down or looted already. We mostly tried to stay in the forests and out of the cities, too. It was safer.”

“I’m sure,” Sam says. “Is that how you got here, G?”

She looks uncertain as if she isn’t sure she should answer.

Sam asks again, “You stayed off the main roads? Took back roads through the country, I assume?”

“Yeah,” she finally answers. “Basically, the general just tried to stay out of the big cities. He knows his way around really well, so it was easy to navigate us to his home. It just took a while to get here… well, ‘cuz it just did.”

“Run into any trouble?” Sam asks the shy, young girl.

Her mouth screws up into a grimace as she remembers unpleasant memories. She nods and shoves her hands into the pockets of her baggy jeans.

“What kind of trouble?” Paige presses.

“People stealing our shit,” she says bluntly. “Trying… stuff. Dad and Luke took care of them, though. My brother doesn’t put up with anyone’s shit.”

“Really?” Paige asks with surprise. “He looked pretty harmless to me.”

Sam hasn’t really had a good look at him yet. If he’s anything like G, she’s surprised Paige said that. Gretchen has as much machismo as most men and the right attitude to go with it. She might be shy, but she puts off a fairly tough aura.

“Ha,” G says. “Yeah, right. Luke thinks he’s my dad most of the time. The general was hardly ever around, so Luke took it upon himself at an early age to be in charge of me. Plus, he doesn’t put up with shit ‘cuz he’s been very trained in survival and combat and all that stuff. I was, too.”

“That’s not such a bad thing, him being fatherly with you,” Sam comments.

She shrugs, “Yeah, I guess so. I appreciate it now, but it used to irritate me. Now, he’ll kill just about anyone he has to in order to keep me safe. Trust me, there’s a lot of takers out there.”

“Takers?” Sam asks.

“Assholes who rob people. Others who kill or rape. But my bro ain’t gonna put up with that shit. Luke’ll put one right between their eyes.”

Paige smirks and then nods with understanding and admits, “Yeah, we had a lot of experiences with that, too. I’ve seen a lot. Lived three years on the road. I came to the farm to find my brother, but I was traveling with a few friends and a little girl. They live at the neighbor’s house. She married Chet Reynolds.”

“Oh, yeah, the farmers next door,” Gretchen acknowledges.

“What else did you see out there other than people who stole from you?” Sam asks, hoping she’ll tell them more.

A patrol on horseback rides past them, two men and a woman, all residents of the town. Sam and Paige wave to them, but G does not. It will take her a while to learn everyone in town and their neighbors. Sam isn’t even sure what her father’s plans are and if they involve them staying or leaving again.

Gretchen shrugs and replies, “The usual. People trying to stick together. People afraid, afraid of us, afraid of each other.”

“See anything like our town?” Sam asks.

“Sometimes,” she answers without telling them as much as they’d like.

“Other people have fortified towns?” Paige asks.

“We saw some, but the general didn’t want to stop and talk to them. Others out there are building their own compounds like your little town. We just kept going. He didn’t trust anyone,” she tells them and hangs her head.

“I guess most people don’t anymore,” Sam agrees.

“We stayed in the forest when we stopped for the night. It was safer there,” she volunteers. “We never stayed in a town. Always out in the middle of nowhere. Dad and Lucas would scout out a place to pull the bus into, a clearing in a forest. It was the only place we ever found that was secluded enough away from people.”

“Good idea,” Paige says. “We usually did the same. It was easier to stay in the forest than in the city. The only thing we had to worry about was animals.”

“Yeah, we had that, too. Raccoons got into our food supply one night. Luke shot at them. Another time, we saw a bobcat. It was too scared to mess with us, though.”

“We have had issues at the farm with wild animals, too,” Sam tells her.

“One night there was a bear in the woods. It was creepy as hell,” G swears and swipes her short, dark hair back with one hand. “Dad said it was better we just ignore it instead of shoot at it. He was right. It finally went away, but me and Mom were scared as shit.”

Paige laughs at the tale and probably at the young girl’s language. Sam just smiles. She wonders if G was like this before the fall or if she metamorphosed into this hardened, teen girl who looks more like a punk rocker than a young lady.

“There’s the library,” Sam announces as they round the next corner. “Watch out for Mrs. Browning.”
“Who’s that?” Paige asks her.

Sam shoots her a confused look. “The librarian.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Yes, of course. You haven’t met her yet?” she asks as they approach the cement stairs to the library. Paige shakes her head, so Sam explains, “She used to be the librarian, and she still works there. Every day except Sundays!”

“Weird,” G says with a snort.

“She is very strict, too,” Sam elucidates. “Don’t talk too loudly. And don’t even think about taking a book without checking it out.”

“You’re kidding me!” Paige says with a loud laugh.

Sam just shoots her a raised eyebrow as she holds open the front door to the facility. As usual, Mrs. Browning is sitting behind the check-out desk. She’s dressed in her normal clothing, which for her is a long tweed skirt, silk blouse, stockings, low brown heels and a beige cardigan. She even sports pearl earrings and a matching necklace. Her gray hair is pulled back into an elegant chignon, not a strand out of place. A small, corner stove was installed a few years ago, and the men in town make sure to light it for her each morning and keep her stocked with cut firewood.

“Oh, Miss Patterson,” Mrs. Browning greets Sam with her usual enthusiasm. “Glad to see you’ve returned. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Sam shrugs and answers, “Yes, ma’am, we’ve been busy. This is my friend Paige, and that’s Gretchen.”

“Nice to meet you, girls,” Mrs. Browning remarks.

“We’re just gonna’ look around,” Sam tells her.

“Go right ahead,” she says and adds, “The second conference room is occupied, though. Miss Sally is in there teaching some of our students.”

“We’ll be quiet,” Sam says and sends her a wave as they leave the area.

“Students?” G asks as they make their way toward the tall shelving units lined with hundreds of books.

Sam allows Paige to go ahead of them since she seems to have a more purposeful destination in mind. The library furniture is clean, as well as the shelves and books themselves, meticulously so thanks to Mrs. Browning.

“Yeah,” Sam answers her. “They’ve started offering a few classes to some of the younger kids.”

“Yuck,” G remarks with a frown. “Sounds like the bunker.”

“Bunker?”

“Where we spent the last few years,” G tells her.

This piques Sam’s interest. She doesn’t know much about G and her brother, but she’d like to. They seem nice so far.

“What bunker do you mean? Were there other people there?”

“Oh, yeah,” G answers. “Lots of people. Boring government and military people, though. Not a lot of kids. But one of the moms was teaching us few kids basic school crap. Like I'll ever use algebra again. It sucked.”

“The horror,” Sam jokes, getting a chuckle from the conservative girl. “Sue and her sisters taught us. We mostly studied survival things, though, like canning, hunting, cleaning a kill, foraging for edible herbs, that kind of stuff.”

“Sounds more interesting than algebra and biology.”

Sam states, “Well, we did study a lot of biology. Simon and I also studied anatomy and physiology and quite a bit about medical care.”

“Simon? The red-haired kid?”

“Yep, that’s him,” she tells G with a nod. “He’s my best friend. Oh, and he’s Paige’s brother, obviously.”

“Oh, cool. Yeah, I kinda’ guessed that one,” Gretchen says. “I think I saw him this morning coming out of one of the barns. I met Cory, too. The big guy. He seems…”

“What?”

“Dangerous,” G admits with a scowl.

“Cory? No, he’s not dangerous. He’s a good person, loyal, protective. He lost his sister about a year ago. He had a tough time of it for a while there, but he’s getting a lot better. He’s not dangerous, though.”

“Speak for yourself,” Paige interrupts behind her, startling Sam.

“Paige!” Sam scolds, earning a vehement “shh!” from Mrs. Browning. “He’s not dangerous, G. He’s just…troubled. But that doesn’t make him a bad person. You can trust him.”

Gretchen shrugs and says quietly, “I don’t trust anyone.”

“Where was the bunker you were talking about? In Oregon? Reagan said you were living in Portland?” Paige asks, obviously as curious as Sam about the bunker.

“No, we didn’t stay in our cabin long,” she tells them and pulls a Tom Clancy novel from a bottom shelf.

“Where was it then?” Sam repeats.

G stands again and says, “Colorado, of course.”

Paige sends Sam the same confused expression she must be wearing, so she asks G, “What’s that mean? Should we know this?”

“Oh,” G says and turns to face them. “I just thought everyone knew about it.”

They both shake their heads. This is information that they’ll be able to share with the family later.

“It’s where the new government is. There’s this huge, freaking bunker out there. Well, it’s more like a cave than a bunker. But we had electricity, running water, food for about the first year after we arrived.”

“You lived in a cave?” Paige asks, getting a nod.

“It was built a long time ago as a safe haven for the government officials of our country. You know, the President and all those dudes.”

“I didn’t know that,” Sam admits.

“Maybe not that many people do,” G says with a shrug. “Doesn’t matter. That place is falling apart fast.”

“Is that why you’re here now because it’s falling apart out there?” Paige questions.

“Sort of,” G answers.

“What do you mean?” Paige pushes.

Gretchen sighs as if this subject is touchy for her.

“No, we’re here because my dad wanted to warn his dad, my grandfather, I guess,” she tells them.

“Warn him about what?” Sam asks as a chill of apprehension shimmies its way up her spine.

“That there’s a war coming,” she answers nonchalantly.

“What?” Paige hisses with concern.

“Look, maybe I’m not supposed to be talking about this. When we left Colorado, I didn’t even know where we were going or why. I didn’t know my dad had other kids or parents that were still alive. He’s lied to us for years.”

“I’m really sorry about that,” Sam says and lays a hand to her forearm. G pulls away quickly. She’s apparently not comfortable with that sort of connection with them.

“I’m not,” she says, surprising them. “He’s a jerk. He just packed us up in the middle of the night, and we fled on foot. We went about… I don’t know… forever it seemed. Probably ten miles. Then we got in this RV that he had stashed and hidden away. I think Luke knew more than me. He sure as hell didn’t seem as surprised.”

“You sound like you had to sneak away from the compound,” Paige says.

“We did,” G answers honestly.

“Why is that?” Sam asks.

“Because my dad was the highest level military advisor to the President. He was his right-hand man. It wasn’t like he was just going to let us all leave, not with my dad knowing everything he does.”

“And what’s that?” Paige asks, sneaking a quick glance Sam’s way.

“Everything,” G answers. “He knows their plans. He knows about the bunker, how to get in, how to destroy it if it needs to be done, everything.”

“Why would a war be coming?” Paige asks.

“Because there’s a coup forming against the President,” she tells them. “There’s a band of people in the government and outside the government living in the bunker and around it that don’t want him in charge anymore.”

“Living around it?” Sam asks.

G looks down the aisle to make sure they’re still alone before answering, “Yeah, there’s a town there now that lives around the bunker.”

“How many people live there do you think?” Paige asks, her brow furrowing.

“Thousands,” she tells them. “I’m not sure. At last count, I think I heard someone say it was over seventeen thousand.”

“Wow!” Paige exclaims and gets another round of “shhh’s” from Mrs. Browning. Sam did try to warn her friend. Mrs. Browning is nothing if not strict. This was her library for over twenty years, and she still runs it like nothing outside the double doors of it has changed. She walks to work each morning from her equally tidy little Cape Cod style home in town. She even locks the doors each night when she leaves as if bandits might raid the town for books. Sam would like to tell her to get a clue.

“So there are towns out there way bigger than our town here,” Sam says.

“Oh, no,” G rebuts. “Not that big. That’s the new capital. That’s why so many people live there. D.C was destroyed, wiped out.”

“We heard rumors like that over the years,” Sam says with a sad frown.

“Well, it’s true,” G adds. “When it all fell apart, I overheard the general tell our mom that an EMP was set off over D.C.”

“Really?” Paige asks with skepticism.

“Yep,” G answers unequivocally. “That’s what he said. I didn’t know what that meant at the time. I was still just a kid. But I know now.”

Sam has to suppress a smile. G is still a kid. They both are, but nobody thinks of themselves in such a way anymore.

“He said that they thought it was Russia,” she explains further. “But it was never able to be confirmed because it took down the grid. Who knows?”

“Did you guys have communications capabilities in the bunker?” Paige asks.

“Yes, some,” G answers.

“What’s it like everywhere else?” Paige asks.

She sighs again and says, “No better than here. I know that every country in the world was affected. Countries that relied on America to feed them, to supply them with goods were cut off from our support. They fell fast. After England and France went down, Europe followed quickly, too. China lost most of its population to the tsunamis.”

“We heard some of that, too,” Sam tells her.

“Nobody’s making it,” G says. “The President has had some limited contact with different countries. Not much, but some. They aren’t doing well. Actually, I think America’s doing better than most. Island countries went down very quickly. People turned on each other everywhere once food and water got depleted.”

“And now our own government is turning against itself? Is that what you mean?” Paige asks.

“Of course,” she says with a nod. “Does that surprise you? One dude gets in power, another one wants to take it away. Same old, same old. Idiots.”

Sam chuckles at her comment. She often feels the same way about politicians. If it weren't for them, the world would still be intact, stable.

“We heard part of a broadcast about the military,” Sam offers, hoping that Paige won’t press her for the full story on what she overheard.

“Yeah, recruits,” G says.

“Recruits?” Paige asks with an arched eyebrow.

“Yep, they need recruits to join each side. Colorado wants to build a bigger city, and the other moron wants to take over and establish a country in the east. He wants to split the country in half, and he wants to control one half and let the President in Colorado control the west half.”

“But a lot of the east coast is gone,” Sam reminds them.

“Not all of it. A lot of it, yeah. But there were stragglers, survivors, like you guys,” G says.

“Why is anyone even worrying about this right now?” Sam asks. “Just surviving every day is a struggle. Why fight over control? Control of what? Nothing!”

“There’s always something to control,” Paige says. “There are still resources in this country. And the more people that join that city in Colorado, the faster it will grow and develop into something more.”

“It’s never going to be what it was before,” Sam laments.

“And this new guy wants control of the eastern half of the country?” Paige asks.

“Yep, that’s the plan. Only he isn’t a new guy,” G tells them.

“Anyone we know?”

“Yeah, my dad, the general,” she answers and walks away, leaving both Sam and Paige stunned.

CHAPTER FIVE

Simon

They are late getting home from town, which is causing him to experience a feeling of great unease. Simon finished working with their neighbors processing beef for the winter, and now it seems like the whole valley smells of smoking meat. He walked home from the Reynolds farm over an hour ago, and the family still isn’t home from the clinic.

“Hear from them yet?” he asks Kelly when he finds him in the cattle barn.

“Nope, not yet, Professor,” he remarks from his milking stool. “Feed the hogs?”

Simon frowns and taps his toe. “Huh? Oh, yeah, got the chores done. Huntley helped, so we finished pretty fast.”

“Don’t worry,” Kelly says with a calm grin as the kids come running in. “Where are you three heading? You know your aunt and mother almost have dinner ready. You plannin’ on being late?”

“Heck no!” Ari shouts obnoxiously.

Jacob is holding her hand and also shakes his head vehemently against the threat of upsetting Hannah or Sue. Huntley and Justin are at the other end of the aisle calling to them. It doesn’t require much beckoning before they take off, the allure of play time too tempting to resist.

“Everything go ok in the city?” Kelly asks him.

“As well as could be expected,” Simon says, shoving his feelings down into the pit of his stomach.

“Good,” he replies. “How’d you like working with Dave?”

Simon chuckles quietly and shakes his head. There’s no simple way to answer such a question.

“He was… efficient,” Simon replies with neutrality.

Kelly laughs loudly and says, “Oh, yes, efficient he is.”

“It was kind of similar to working with you and John or Derek, but he’s just… different. Has his own tactics and ways, ya’ know?”

Kelly smirks. “Yeah, I know. He’s one crazy bastard, huh?”

“Exactly,” Simon agrees with a nod. “He just stood there in the middle of the battle, Kelly, in the middle of the field while gunfire was hitting all around him. I was watching from a perch, taking shots with one of his snipers. It was surreal. I’ve never witnessed someone with so little regard for their own well-being.”

“He had cancer as a kid,” Kelly tells him.

Simon’s surprise must be written on his face because Kelly nods.

“Yeah, some kind of leukemia or something. Almost killed him. He beat it. He said after that, he was different. Spent a lot of his youth in hospitals, doctors’ offices and shit. Said after he beat cancer it just changed him. He graduated high school, went to technical college and straight into the army. Crazy son-of-a-bitch thinks he’s some kind of invincible superhero or some shit. What a nut.”

Simon chuckles nervously and nods again. “Yeah, crazy.”

Kelly stands, arches his back and lugs the bucket of milk to the sink as Simon releases the jersey back to her calf.

“Guess when some people go through something like that, it just changes their perspective on life,” Simon contemplates as he tosses hay to the dairy cow.

“How’s Sam?” Kelly asks out of the blue.

Simon sighs hard and frowns harder. “Not sure. She’s been quiet since it happened.”

“Did he rape her?”

“No, no, he didn’t get the chance. We found her in time. Well, I guess we found her in time. She’d already stabbed that man to death,” Simon conveys. “So stupid.”

“Just an accident, bro,’” Kelly says and lays a hand on his shoulder for a brief second.

“Stupid,” Simon whispers again.

“She’s a good fighter, Simon,” Kelly says, trying to make him feel better. It’s not working. “That’s why we train so hard. Everyone needs to be a good fighter now.”

“Yeah, but she shouldn’t have to be,” Simon says with a burden of guilt. “That’s our jobs.”

“Good fighter,” Kelly repeats as if that will make the situation better. “Maybe not such a good driver yet, but she’s a hell of a knife fighter.”

Simon grins crookedly and concurs, “Yeah, that was… crap, sorry about the Suburban.”

Kelly laughs as they walk toward the horse barn. Then he says, “She may need to work on her evasive maneuvers in the SUV.”

“Has Doctor McClane seen it yet?”

“Not sure. Kind of hard to miss, Professor,” Kelly says and scratches his head.

“Yeah, guess so. I’ll work on it tomorrow. Maybe I can…”

“It’s all good,” his friend says. “Derek saw it. He said he’ll buff it out.”

Simon nods but is definitely not convinced that the scratches, dents, and the half hanging off side mirror are repairable.

“Good. I’ll help,” he offers.

They feed the horses and head toward the house. He’s upset that Sam went to town in the first place, his sister, too. He thought they’d just want to stay home today since their trip to the city had been so adversely eventful and mentally exhausting.

Beside him, Kelly blows out a long held breath, as if he’d been holding it in for hours. Simon regards him with confusion, and Kelly points toward the driveway. The faint, dim headlights of the family pick-up truck are visible in the dense fog settling in on their valley. Derek comes out of the equipment shed with Doc beside him. Simon has noticed that Herb’s step isn’t as quick as it was just a few, short years ago.

“Finally,” Derek says as he approaches.

“Hey, I’ll help you work on the Suburban tomorrow,” Simon offers. “That was my fault it happened anyway.”

“Driving with that blindfold on again, Professor?” Derek razzes with a chuckle.

“Sorry,” he acquiesces. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

Doc lays a hand on his shoulder blade and says, “We’re just glad you both didn’t get hurt.”

“Might want a different designated driver next time,” Kelly adds to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, Reagan,” Derek says. “She’d just ram them off the road.”

“No kidding,” Kelly agrees. “Then she’d run over and offer them a double tap from the .45.”

Doc just nods with a grin. “I think you might be right.”

Simon still feels guilty about the chase through the streets that he’d been forced into while Sam was under his protection. She could’ve been seriously hurt or killed. It’s just one more pebble on the giant mountain of guilt that he carries around where Samantha is concerned. He does sigh with his own breath of relief when he sees her and Paige jump down from the tailgate with Cory’s help. He’s surprised that his sister is even taking help from Cory. He even hands her the pack she usually carries. His eyes are smiling down at his sister. Simon’s eyes narrow as he regards the sight before him. He wanted his friend to bury the hatchet with Paige, but the warm intent he sees in Cory’s eyes is not one of friendship.

“Hey, Professor,” John says, stepping in front of him and blocking his view. He hands Simon a box of medical supplies. “Run these to the shed for me?”

“Uh…sure,” he replies and turns to go.

“I’ll come, too,” Sam says, carrying a box of her own.

He looks over his shoulder at Cory, who is still standing at the back of the truck talking to Paige. A quick, urgent wave of unease sweeps down Simon’s spine.

“Hey, I asked you a question,” Sam says.

“Oh,” he says as he turns forward again, looking down at her. “What?”

“I asked if you’ve met G,” she says, introducing him to the daughter of Robert on her other side. “This is Gretchen, but just call her G.”

“Hi, nice to meet you, G,” he greets the young girl with the short, dark hair. It’s nearly the same color as Sam’s but cut as short as his, maybe shorter.

“Hey,” she returns shyly, dumps her box on the counter in the med shed and swiftly leaves.

“Not one for long conversations, I see,” Simon remarks with humor, making Sam smile. They take the boxes to the back of the room and begin stacking the meds and jars on the shelving units there.

“No, I think she’s unsure of herself. Kind of like we were when we first arrived on the farm? Remember?”

“How can I forget?” he admits with a scowl of bad memories. At that tumultuous time, the McClanes were the only light at the end of the dark tunnel in his life. “How’d the clinic day go?”

“Good, we treated a lot of the women from the camp. Strep is going through their group. How was the cow butchering?” she asks because she’s too polite not to, but also throws in an exaggerated grimace.

“Fine, just fine,” he returns.

“I could smell the smokers going as soon as we turned down our road. Grandpa’s got ours running, too?”

“Yes, both of them,” he answers. “We’ll have to be especially careful on night watch for the next few weeks. The smell of the meats curing and smoking always draws in predators from the forest. Don’t want to lose any calves or even one of the goats.”

“No, definitely not,” she says with a nod.

Her dark hair is pulled back into a single braid, strands having come loose here and there to artfully frame her face. Her bright blue eyes are regarding him with a hidden sadness. She’s nothing if not highly skilled at hiding her grief, her remorse, her depression. She just can’t effectively hide it from him, not completely.

Without thinking first, which he almost always tries to do where Sam is concerned, Simon asks her, “What are you thinking?”

She quickly looks down and resumes her work.

“I’m going to grab another box,” she blurts and leaves the shed in a hurry.

Simon takes the two heavy crates from Cory, who has carried them from the truck to the entryway.

“Anything new in town?” he asks his best friend.

Cory averts his gaze and says, “Nah, not much. They made some progress on the wall. A lot of progress actually.”

“What about the thief?”

“Nope, nothing. John and I looked all day, questioning everyone and checking every nook and cranny of the town trying to figure it out. Whoever it is, he’s stealthy and good at covering his tracks.”

Simon tells his friend, “Doc said today that with his son and his family on the farm now, that we won’t be able to contribute as much to the town food bank because we may need all the extra provisions we have. He said we should hunt for wild game and at least offer more of that since not everyone can hunt.”

Cory nods thoughtfully before saying, “Yeah, we could do that. Wanna’ go kill some Bambi’s with me, bro?”

Simon frowns but nods just the same.

“Hey,” Sam says, interrupting them when she comes back with another crate and his sister. “We had an interesting conversation with G while we were at the library.”

“The library?” Cory asks with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Sam answers for them. “Paige wanted to check out some books.”

“Nerd,” Cory jabs, earning a heated glare from Simon’s sister.

“Be nice,” Sam instantly scolds.

“At least I know how to read, Neanderthal,” Paige retorts.

“What did you talk about, Sam?” Simon redirects.

Paige adds as Derek comes in, “I was there, too. She told us about a government coup and that her father was going to be the new President or something like that. It was weird. When I pushed her for more information, she clammed up.”

They tell Derek about G’s revelation but don’t have time to tell them everything they discussed. Derek seems very concerned, which mirrors Simon’s feelings.

“I think we should tell the others what we know,” Sam says with nerves.

“We will,” Simon agrees. “We’ll talk to them after dinner.”

“Right,” Derek says. “Robert and his wife aren’t joining us for dinner. Hell, they’ve barely come out of that cabin in two days. I don’t know what’s going on yet. All I know is that Herb told him about the inheritance of the farm being left to Hannah and Kelly. After that, he hasn’t come out much. Herb said it didn’t go well. Sent his wife over this morning for breakfast. Just saw his son taking a basket of food out to them as soon as you guys got home from town. Don’t know exactly what’s going on with this dude, but we definitely need to hear what G told you guys. We’ll call a meeting after dinner.”

“Yes, sir,” Simon and Cory say.

Cory and Paige help them put away the rest of their medical supplies. Then they head to the house to wash up for dinner.

“Sam seem ok to you?” Cory asks in the mudroom where they are washing their hands in the large utility sink.

“She’ll be fine,” Simon lies. Of course, she won’t be fine. What has happened to her isn’t something anyone could easily get over. It’s just one more scar on her already frail psyche. He would give anything to go back and do things differently so that she wouldn’t have been taken by those men. It was a novice’s mistake, and he and Cory are sure as hell not novices.

“What’s going on with you and my sister?” Simon asks, changing the subject. He doesn’t want to further embark on his thoughts and feelings about Samantha.

Cory actually stammers, turns away to wipe his hands and replies with, “Uh… nothing.”

“Really?” Simon asks, his interest now piqued.

“Yeah, nothing. Just giving her a hard time.”

Cory leaves the room before Simon can further interrogate him on the topic. It causes him to experience another feeling of uneasiness. Cory is not normally a big feelings sharer, but if Simon was speculating, then his friend was actually avoiding the subject. If he’s hurt Paige’s feelings, Simon will have to set his friend straight. But first, he’ll have to get her alone later and question Paige about it.

After a lot of kid wrangling, they are seated at the long dining table and sharing the day’s events. A card table has been added to the end of the formal dining table in order to make room for Gretchen and her brother. He notices that nobody brings up what G had related to the girls at the library. Simon assumes that his sister and Sam don’t want to put her on the spot.

“Any luck on catching the town thief?” Sue asks.

“No, unfortunately not,” John answers. “We’ll go at it again the next time we go into town.”

“May be time to set up some night recon,” Kelly suggests.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Cory chimes in. “I volunteer to do it.”

“Yeah, that might work,” his brother says with a nod. “We’ll send you and the professor to handle it.”

“Don’t trust me?” Cory asks with a devious grin.

John chuckles and nods. “Send the trigger and send the cool head. Better than just sending the trigger.”

Cory bumps fists with John in good humor. Paige is watching their interaction with fascination. Simon definitely needs to talk with her later. Normally she’s frowning at Cory, or sneering, or swearing. This isn’t a frown at all but curiosity and interest. It’s starting to piss him off.

“Right, Professor?” Kelly asks.

“Huh?” he asks and then blurts a quick, “Yeah, right. Fine. We’ll go together. It’ll give us some time to discuss some things,” Simon adds tightly.

Cory’s eyes jump to his with an unguarded amount of worry.

“Yeah, sure,” his friend answers without his usual display of cocky attitude and self-assuredness.

“Do you have any leads at all?” Doc asks after the thief again.

John sighs and says, “We’ve got a few leads we’re tracking down, but not anything solid yet. Everyone is quick to blame. You know how that goes.”

Herb nods gravely and says, “Who are they wanting to blame? I’m assuming you mean the people in town are quick to blame.”

Cory says, “Yeah, the townspeople all want to say the thief is with the group I brought from the armory.”

“I was afraid you might say that,” Herb says with a frown.

Kelly shakes his head as he helps himself to more ham, “Don’t worry about it, Cory. We trust the people you brought here.”

“Hell, they’re mostly old people and women,” Reagan puts in.

“First warning,” Hannah says coolly regarding her sister’s language.

“Noted,” Reagan concedes.

John chuckles, gets a nasty look from his wife and continues, “We’ll sniff him out. Or her. Never know, it could be a woman is doing this. But I agree with Kelly. It’s not someone from the armory. They were just so grateful to be welcomed in by our town that I don’t think they’d steal from us. Why would they? No motive. This is someone in town taking from our coffers for their own gain.”

Derek says, “Yes, and the people from the armory have been doing anything and everything to help with the wall, keeping up patrols and working gardens. They’re appreciative, even if most of them are too old to do much.”

“One of the women is teaching classes at the library,” Sam tells them.

“Oh, great,” Hannah says.

“Not so great for the kids having to take school classes,” Cory jokes.

“I don’t know, Cory,” Sue says. “I saw them the other day when we went to town while you guys were gone. Those little kids seemed happy to be in there.”

“Probably just thankful to have any semblance of normalcy in their young lives,” Doc agrees. “This is certainly no life for a child.”

“Agreed,” John says with a frown.

“Better than being afraid all the time,” Paige adds to which everyone nods solemnly.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about your dilemma, Cory,” Hannah says, surprising everyone.

“My dilemma?” he asks hesitantly.

“About the need for alcohol you were discussing with Derek and Kelly,” she adds to which his friend agrees verbally. “You told him that you want to make alcohol for use in the vehicles. There used to be a really nice vineyard- or I guess I’m assuming it was nice since I never actually went there. But I did overhear people in town talking about it from time to time when I went to town with Grams. Anyway, it was over north, up above Clarksville, out in the country somewhere.”

“I’m not much of a wine drinker, little sister,” Cory tells her with a smile.

“Not for the alcohol, silly,” Hannah reprimands. “For the still. Don’t they have to purify and still or distill the grapes to make wine?”

“Not sure,” Cory says. “I don’t really know anything about wine.”

Paige quickly puts in, “If only there was a place you could get information about it. You know, like a library?”

Cory chuckles at her.

“Well, they were also making Kentucky bourbon there, too,” Hannah adds, ignoring them. “Some of the men at the feed mill one day were talking about how good their bourbon was.”

“Now, that one, we’re sure about,” Derek says. “I know you need a still for that kind of alcohol.”

“Sounds like we need to make a trip north,” John says. “If you want to make alcohol to fuel one of the older cars, then it’s worth a shot. There’s a seventy-three or four Laguna in town. Not exactly stealthy with that big engine, but it’s old enough not to have some high-tech computer system on board. It’s a simple motor, easier to work on, to change over to alcohol instead of gas.”

“With the CNG on the farm now, we should be ok, but alcohol is great for wound care, too,” Reagan says.

“True,” Doc adds. “But we’re still not fully operable on the CNG system yet. But you’re right, Reagan. Our medical supplies have been so depleted, and this new alliance with Sergeant Winters will definitely require additional medicines.”

Simon tries not to smile. Apparently, Herb is not going to call Dave the Mechanic by his call sign like they’ve been doing.

“No shit,” Reagan says and gets a lightning fast glare from Hannah, who she ignores. “Those men are battle-hardened and ready for more. If they tend to get into scrapes like we do, then they’re gonna need our medical care. And the women they just rescued? Don’t get me started. We saw so much today, it’s a wonder that many of them are even still alive. Sheer will, I guess.”

“I agree with you about Dave’s soldiers,” Derek says. “If they’re doing their part to keep the area rid of… pests, then we ought to offer our help and our services.”

“We’re planning on a trip over there soon,” Kelly adds. “We want to see what his town is like. Maybe we can exchange ideas and offer help and vice versa.”

“That’s a very good idea, Kelly,” Doc says with a nod of confirmation. “Establishing trade with them is also a good idea.”

Simon notices that G and her brother don’t offer opinions or speak at all unless he counts their secretive whispering to one another. They certainly don’t look comfortable eating dinner with the family. He doesn’t judge them for their withdrawn mannerisms, though. He can’t hardly lay any blame at their feet for what fate has just thrown at them. He’d been nervous and uncomfortable when he was first accepted into the family, as well. He knows exactly what they must be thinking and feeling. Out of place. And the situation with their father and the McClane family doesn’t seem to be one of a harmonious and happy reunion.

When the meal wraps up, Hannah and Sue have the younger kids and Doc’s new grandchildren clear and clean the dinner mess. If they mind, they don’t say that they do. The adults adjourn to Doc’s study where they can get the full story from Paige and Sam about the content of their conversation with G. When they are finished explaining what they know, the family sits in a deafening silence, everyone stunned.

“Let me get this straight,” Reagan says with her usual flair for temper. “Robert wants to be the President of the eastern half of the country?”

“I guess so,” Sam says quietly.

“This is interesting, indeed,” Doc says from behind his desk as he puffs away at his pipe.

“Well, that blows our theory as to why he’s here,” Reagan flippantly remarks.

“What theory is that, dear?” Doc asks her.

“That he came here because he was ill and wanted to be buried here on the farm,” she says with anger in her gravelly voice. “I actually thought he might be growing a sentimental side. How sentimentally naïve of me.”

“You might not be that far off base,” Herb comments.

“What do you mean, Grandpa?” Hannah asks anxiously.

“He is sick. That much is true. But he may make a recovery. He has before.”

“What’s that mean?” Reagan asks, just as curious as Simon about this illness.

“Smallpox,” Doc replies. “He’s had it twice since the fall. That’s why he has those scars. I figured it was some kind of pox when I saw him. Didn’t you notice them, Reagan?”

She shakes her head and says, “I haven’t really looked too closely at him.”

“Luckily his wife and children weren’t infected. He thinks the symptoms are back but not the full live virus. I don’t think he would be contagious at this point anyway, but we’ll be careful. This isn’t something anyone’s been vaccinated for since it has mutated and become more deadly as if that’s even possible. Just like the pneumonic plague spread, this new sickness is running rampant. Told me it spread through the bunker and their new city. He didn’t explain as much as G about the bunker. I assumed he meant a small group of their trusted friends and community members. Not thousands of people and politicians. The scientists there…”

“Scientists?” Sue asks with unconcealed surprise.

“Yes, he said there were scientists there from the CDC, a few from the WHO working on viruses and diseases,” Doc explains.

“How much did he tell you about the coup and this President nonsense?” Reagan asks.

“Nothing about that. We had some… words. But as for the smallpox, I was able to get information from him about his illness before we had our… disagreement. Most people who contracted it died. Many survivors out west died from it, as well. He’s concerned it’s going to make its way this far east eventually. But I’m not so convinced.”
“Why’s that, sir?” Simon asks with avid interest. He may have to set aside his obstetrics studies for ancient plagues studies since they seem to be making grand reappearances.

“For one thing, most people aren’t traveling that far anymore. The cessation of airplane travel and even vehicles, for the most part, is going to slow it down. It’s going to take a lot longer to move from one section of the country to the other. Just look at how long it took Paige’s group to arrive on the farm.”

“True. And just the four of us were moving. A large group of people moving together would be much slower, a lot harder to coordinate for travel,” his sister says from her position next to him.

“Back to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex…” Derek starts but is interrupted by Reagan.

“Wait, you knew about this bunker thing?”

“It’s common knowledge that our military and government have a bunker in the mountain made to withstand a nuclear attack. I’m assuming that’s where they were hunkered down in Colorado. It’s where top level government officials and our President are supposed to be flown to and housed in case of an invasion or a nuclear war.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Sue says.

“I watched a documentary about it one time,” Simon tells them, earning some strange looks. “Thought it was interesting.”

“Dork,” Cory teases.

Derek further explains, “It was built back in the fifties or sixties. The last we heard was that nobody knew if the President made it out of D.C. to even get to a bunker. We sure as heck weren’t taking orders from him after a while. We lost comms. Our own generals were trying to run the show, keep the peace in the communities. We all know how that turned out.”

“I don’t know how they had CDC doctors working there,” Reagan comments.

“Not sure,” John says beside her. “Must’ve gathered them up, flew them out there, or got them there by vehicle when it started.”

“Could’ve taken a lot of time to do it, too,” Kelly says. “They might not have had them there right away. Maybe they sent recon patrols looking for them. Who knows for sure?”

“It would be great to have access to the same equipment they must be working with up there,” Reagan laments.

“I think we’re doing just fine here, honey,” Doc tells her with an understanding nod.

“She mentioned that an EMP went off over D.C.,” Paige informs them.

“We never got word of that,” Derek says with a dubious shake of his head.

“Yeah, I’m not sure the intel on that is right,” Kelly agrees. “Everything was sketchy at best in the beginning.”

“Comms, electricity, phones, the whole grid went down quickly,” John adds. “It’s hard telling if that information would’ve been accurate. Could be speculation on their part. Could be true.”

“It doesn’t really matter anyway,” Derek says. “We just need to know what’s going on with Robert and why this coup has been orchestrated, if it’s been orchestrated, and how it’s going to affect us.”

“They want you to take sides,” Sam says, surprising everyone.

“How do you know that, Samantha?” Doc asks.

She stares at her hands twisting nervously in front of her before speaking. “It was part of the broadcast I heard. I didn’t want anyone to know. They want men and women in the military to report in to these military bases. They want to wage a war using them.”

“I see,” Doc says and rubs his chin thoughtfully.

“I didn’t mean to lie about what I heard,” she explains. “I just don’t want the family to be broken up, and some sent away.”

“I understand, dear,” Herb forgives.

Reagan says, “They want you guys to report in so that they can use you in this war that apparently my stupid ass father is starting. That shit’s not happening.”

“Did you know about this?” John asks her.

“Sam asked me not to tell anyone, so I was bound to keep her secret. It wasn’t a big deal until now.”

John frowns at his wife. He doesn’t seem too happy with her concealment of the truth.

“We’ll know more once we speak with Robert,” Doc says and reclines back in his leather office chair. Simon isn’t sure if he’s trying to appear nonchalant to allay their worries, but for Simon, it’s not working. He is worried.

“I don’t want Derek getting involved in this,” Sue says.

“Me neither, Kelly,” Hannah says, turning her sightless eyes toward her husband. “Don’t leave the farm.”

“I’m not, baby,” he promises and kisses her fingertips.

“You, either, John,” Reagan says.

Simon notices that John does not offer his wife the same reassurance as Kelly. Neither does Derek. Simon is concerned that the two brothers will leave the farm to join this war effort.

“Going to war for two dumbass men fighting for power,” Reagan exclaims. “Give me a break! This is total bullshit. What the hell are they even fighting for? The country is broken!”

Hannah doesn’t even attempt to berate her sister for swearing. She, too, must be feeling the full burden of this matter.

“It won’t always be,” Doc corrects her. “Someday America will start the process of rebuilding, and a strong, stable government will be necessary then.”

“Bullshit,” Reagan repeats. “We’re decades away from that. Not even close. These men are power hungry morons. Robert always was, so I’m not sure why this even surprises me.”

“Yeah,” Sue agrees softly. She is holding tight to Derek’s hand.

Reagan isn’t about to go down so quietly.

“I’m not going to allow the men in this family to run off and fight other Americans in a battle that could kill thousands. We don’t have enough survivors to waste a single life, and yet, these politicians are willing to do so. This should tell us what kind of slimy, power hungry pricks are left.”

“I agree,” Paige says, her eyes darting nervously to Simon’s. “I don’t want you to go, either. Or Cory. They’ll want Huntley, too. He’s old enough to hunt, hold a gun, kill. This is a bunch of crap. I just got you back. I’m not letting you go.”

“They’ll need field medics,” Simon says quietly.

Just as the women are all about to attack him for saying it, Doc interrupts them by standing up and holding out a hand to calm everyone in the room. “We need more information. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We shouldn’t be making decisions about this, or even think about making any decisions until we get the full account from Robert. I’ll call a meeting when he’s feeling better, and we’ll all sit down to discuss this.”

“When he’s feeling better?” Sue asks. “Is that why he’s not coming to the house for meals?”

“Yes,” Doc answers. “He’s down for the moment. We’ll give him some time to recover. I’m treating him for his smallpox symptoms and trying to restore his health. There’s no sense in getting ahead of ourselves with this talk of another civil war.”

“I agree,” Derek says calmly.

“We’ll adjourn for the evening and meet up again soon,” Doc says with finality. “Until then, just continue your chores and duties, don’t discuss this around the kids, and we’ll review it again in a few days or weeks or whenever he’s able.”

“Yes, sir,” John says, to which Derek and the rest of the men repeat.

Everyone disperses, but Doc asks Kelly to stay. Simon’s not sure why, but he estimates that it’s because Kelly is now the rightful inheritor of the farm and that Doc wishes to discuss the matter further with the man who will stay on the farm if others leave it to fight.

He tries to catch Paige before she disappears up the stairs with Sam to go to bed, but he’s unable to get her attention in the crowd. He wants to talk with her about Cory. No matter, though. There’s always tomorrow.

He’s on first watch, so Simon retrieves his rifle, night-vision gear and starts a perimeter walk. There is much on his mind tonight as he paces and scans into the distance to ensure that nobody is breaching their compound. His heart is heavy as he worries about an impending civil war. The matter with Samantha is weighing even more substantially on his mind than war.

CHAPTER SIX

Cory

He rises at four a.m. to relieve Simon on watch duty. He’s glad his friend is going to crash for the night instead of staying up dissecting or studying. After their city trip, the professor could use some rest. He understands how shaken he was over Sam’s abduction, and so he also understands why Simon is keeping so busy. Sometimes a full day can barricade the mind from wandering to those unwanted and blocked memories. There’s one thing that Simon doesn’t do well, and that’s hide his feelings for Samantha. Although Cory has to give him some credit. He sure as hell tries to.

He saddles up his stallion and rides the perimeter of the farm just inside the forest. They’re both used to such trips. The year away from the family taught Cory and his stallion many things, especially about moving around at night and becoming more nocturnal. It was simply safer than parading around in broad daylight and making himself an easy target for snipers.

Cory pulls the collar of his jacket a little higher as his stallion picks its way along a dense path covered in fog. The night is still, all quiet and unnaturally silent. He wonders if there is a predator afoot. He’ll let his horse be his ears on this one. He has many times saved Cory from an animal attack on such missions. Horses hear everything, every tiny twig snap and far off rustling of leaves that he would never detect. Still, he rests his hand casually on the hilt of his pistol on his hip. Better safe than sorry out this far from the farm where no one would hear a call for help. Plus, Damn Dog is accompanying them.

By the time he makes a full circuit of the farm and crests the highest peak to look down over it all, the sun is beginning its slow ascent over the gray horizon. After he dismounts and ties the stallion to a branch, Cory takes up residence on a fallen log. Using the scope on his rifle, he spies on the property below. He spots Kelly heading for the pasture to bring in the three dairy cows. John is on night watch with him, and Cory watches as his friend and mentor sends a wave to Kelly before walking toward the house, probably glad to go in and get some shut-eye. He’ll hold this position for a while until everyone is up and about. It’s essential that he remain on watch duty until the others rise for the day just to keep the ones who have risen and are performing their chores safer. He’s got their backs. And soon enough, he catches sight of Derek crossing the field to lend Kelly a hand.

Cory removes his jacket and is left with just a black, zip-up hoodie. It’s enough for him, though. He’s a lot more used to the elements than others, and the sun is promising a slightly warmer day unless the clouds in the distance choose to turn toward the farm and open up with a cool, fall shower.

Apparently, Reagan’s new step-brother and sister are also early risers because they are the next ones out the back door. They stick together and seem to be heading toward their parents’ cabin, Cory’s old cabin. The siblings are like night and day from what he’s seen of them so far. Luke seems clean cut, neat, tidy. G is a wreck. Her piercings, dark nail polish, and grungy appearance are in direct contrast to her well put together brother. But they seem close like Paige and Simon. He’s carrying a picnic basket probably full of food to their parents. Cory has yet to make acquaintance with Robert McClane, but from what little he’s heard, the guy sounds like an asshole.

“Son of a…” Cory whispers to himself as he spies Sam and Paige heading on horseback across the field. He swings up onto his horse’s back, earning a grunt of displeasure and spurs the beast into a canter across the top field. He orders his dog home. He’ll cut them off in the valley. He wants to know where they’re going. It’s his job to keep them safe. He should’ve been told. They can’t just trot off into the great unknown without him having knowledge of it. He’s the sentry on duty. This wasn’t reported. Mostly, he just wants to see Paige.

Since Sam is keeping her favorite mare at a walking pace, Cory easily meets up with them in the field.

“Hey, Cory!” Sam exclaims with a surprised expression and her usual friendly smile and wave.

“What are you doing out here?” Paige demands testily.

He points to his rifle slung over his left shoulder, “Watch duty. Kind of my job to know who’s going where on the farm.”

“Sure it is,” she says.

“So where do you think you’re going?”

“Over to the Reynolds,” Sam tells him. “Paige wants to visit her friend and little Maddie, and John said it was ok.”

“I’ll escort you then,” he offers.

“You don’t need to,” Paige rebuts.

“Yes, I do,” he argues.

“Fine,” she says with fire.

“You guys are being silly,” Sam reprimands. “We can all go together. It’s no big deal.”

“Right,” Cory agrees. “No big deal.”

“Sue wanted me to take over this bag of baby clothes for Talia anyway,” Sam tells him, pointing to the sack hanging from her saddle horn. Naturally, Paige is riding behind her since she still hasn’t fully warmed up to the idea of horseback riding on her own yet.

“That’s good,” he says. “She’ll need those sorts of things soon enough.”

“She’s nuts,” Paige puts in.

“Why do you say that?” Cory questions her.

She shoots him a look as if she finds him crazy, as well. “Because having kids today is not only crazy, it’s dangerous. The mother could die. It’s not like we have a high-risk maternity ward.”

“No, but we’ve got two doctors, and your brother’s a doctor in my book,” he simply states, admiring the way the sun is playing off of her red locks. “Heck, even you helped him deliver a baby, Red.”

“Hardly,” she says. “I just stood there mostly.”

“She’ll be fine,” Cory says, hoping to calm her worries.

“Reagan’s dad is a doctor, too,” Sam says. “Or at least he was. Maybe he was a baby doctor.”

“I don’t think so,” Paige says.

Cory looks at her, catches her gaze and holds it a moment.

“Are you going to leave the farm?” she asks directly.

“Is that a request?” he teases.

Sam interrupts and says, “No, she means are you leaving if they want you to report in for duty to the army somewhere?”

Cory gave it a lot of thought while on patrols and before he turned in last night to bed. He’s not sure what to think of the situation in their country. It seems abrupt to start waging wars for power, but he’ll concede to the wishes of his brother, not some ex-doctor turned colonel, now general, who wants to be the President. He’s not taking orders from Reagan’s dad, but he doesn’t know how anyone else feels about it yet. He needs to discuss the matter further with Kelly, Derek, and John before making a decision. He was a rogue agent for almost a year, but now his alliance is to the McClane family and only the McClane family.

“We’ll see, kiddo,” he tells Sam. Cory doesn’t miss the concerned expression that flashes for just a moment across Paige’s face. Sam’s gentle face also seems worried. “Look, we don’t even have all the facts. Don’t worry about it. We’ve got more important things to deal with right now than a big government military coup.”

“No kidding,” Sam agrees.

“Is that why you didn’t tell everyone the truth about the broadcast you heard?” Cory asks her.

Sam nods and says, “Yes, I didn’t want you guys to leave the farm. I was just afraid.”

“We’re not going anywhere yet, kiddo,” he says and reaches out to hold her hand a moment.

When they arrive a few minutes later at the Reynolds’ farm, Talia and Maddie are both on the back porch waiting for them. Paige must’ve radioed ahead. She slides quickly from the mare’s back as Maddie runs toward her with a squeal. Cory chuckles and ties both horses to the hitching post. Then he sets off to find the guys to see if they need help. He uses their radio to call home to let his brother know where he went. He works with Chet and Wayne on a plumbing project in the barn. When Sam tells him that she’s going back home, he checks his watch and is surprised that over two hours have passed. He missed breakfast, and his stomach is letting him know of the error in his judgment. He also doesn’t pass up the offer of a few slices of freshly cured ham and a side of scrambled eggs from Bertie Reynolds when he’s finished helping her husband in the barn. Paige is in the back yard pushing Maddie on the wooden swing hanging from a thick tree branch that Chet has rigged up for her.

“How was the city, Cory?” Chet asks.

“Good, slightly more dangerous than last time, but not too bad,” he replies.

“We heard about the camp down at the river,” Bertie says with concern.

“Yeah, it’s gone now,” he tells her.

Wayne says, “Got to meet Dave the Mechanic. He’s a pretty cool guy.”

“Yeah, he’s a good ally,” Cory agrees as he places his empty dish in the sink.

“Hi, Cory!” Maddie says as the kitchen’s storm door slams behind her.

Talia comes in after her and sends Cory a greeting of her own with a tip of her chin.

“Hey, monkey,” he teases and rubs the top of Maddie’s head. “Where’s Paige?”

“She left,” Maddie tells him.

“What?” he asks with a huge frown. “Looks like someone thinks they’re able to get home without me. Bertie, thanks again for the breakfast. See ya’ guys later.”

They laugh at his dismay, and Cory sends them all a wide wave as he mounts his horse again. At least she didn’t take his stallion when she ditched him. It only takes a couple minutes to catch up to her just inside a narrow cluster of apple trees in their orchard. She’s eating an apple and moseying along with that tomboy strut of hers. She doesn’t turn to look up at him as he approaches, although he’s quite sure she hears him.

“Think you’re cute, huh?” he asks, feeling his temper rise.

“Don’t be a moron,” she berates without turning his way.

“Is this how you used to treat men on dates, too? Ditch them in the middle of dinner?”

“This isn’t a date, and we weren’t having dinner,” she corrects him. “I was visiting my friend.”

Cory swings down and walks beside her since she obviously isn’t going to slow down or get up behind him.

“And Sam ditched me,” she says after a moment. “Said she wanted to get home to work on some drawings.”

“That’s ok,” Cory says and touches her arm. “It’s fine. We can walk home together.”

“Yeah, but I came with her,” she says irritably and snatches her arm away. “If I’d wanted you to take me, I would’ve asked.”
“Demanded, you mean,” he jokes. “You don’t exactly ask for things from me. You’re kind of a tyrant.”

This time, she does look at him, but her glare is filled with irritation and fire. To Cory, she just looks even prettier. The peppering of freckles on her nose is even cute.

“Wanna’ take a detour?” he hints.

“Why? We should get back and help out,” she says, not catching his meaning.

“We could explore our agreement, decide if we still want to adhere to it or if we should amend it.”

“No!” she says vehemently. “The agreement is binding.”

“You really sound like a lawyer’s kid sometimes,” he says with frustration.

“If Simon finds out about what we did in the city, he’s going to blow a gasket,” she says while looking around as if the professor is lurking in the forest beyond.

“He won’t find out,” Cory tells her assuredly.

“He’s not an idiot.”

He smiles and nods, “No, he’s not, but he’s also not real perceptive when it comes to relationships.”

“Do you think that’s why he doesn’t allow his feelings for Sam to show?”

“Picked up on that, huh?”

“I think he has feelings for her. Don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says with a nod. “He’s got it bad for Sam, but he won’t ever act on it.”

“Why not? She’s really sweet, and I’d say she’s either in love with him or thinks of him as a brother. But I think it’s love.”

“It is,” he says on a sigh. “Your brother has too much chivalry in him if that’s possible.”

“He could marry her,” Paige suggests, surprising Cory.

He regards her inquisitively, “Marriage? Yeah, he could, but he won’t. Simon has too much guilt where Sam is concerned. He’ll never let himself be with her.”

“She’s not going to wait around forever,” she states.

Cory stops in an open field, surrounded by tall meadow grasses and late fall wildflowers and stares at her until she stops, as well.

“What?” she asks impatiently.

“She’s not the only one who’s not going to wait around forever.”

Her head tips to the side, and her mouth sets in a tight line of irritation. “I’m not asking anyone to. Especially not you, Neanderthal.”

“Maybe I won’t wait,” he says with bold intent and walks toward her.

“Hey,” Paige says nervously and backs up a step.

Cory quickly slips an arm around her waist and hauls her up against his chest so that they are eye to eye. Then he presses his mouth down against hers before she can pull away. The kiss is too brief before she gets free.

“Cut it out!”

“Don’t worry, Red,” he says with a grin. “I’m a patient guy. I can wait. A little while.”

“I don’t want you to wait for me,” she corrects him and steps further away, putting space between them. “This… this thing you’ve imagined happening between us isn’t going to happen at all! I’m not attracted to you. It was just a one night stand, nothing more. It was obviously a mistake.”

Cory chuckles with confidence at her refusal.

“Ok,” he concedes, enjoying the deepening pink of her freckled cheeks. Then she narrows her gaze at him and stalks away. “Come on. Get on with me and I’ll ride us back. It’s too far to walk, and I’ve gotta get some shut-eye before…” he pauses.

She turns to look at him. “Before what?”

“Nothing,” Cory tells her. “Come on. Let’s go.”

She reluctantly agrees to ride behind him on the stallion, and he takes pleasure in her slight bend of will.

“So, what’d ya’ get at the library?” he asks to distract himself from staring down at her thighs behind his.

“A few books on structural design and a few fiction novels to pass the time,” she tells him.

“I’ve got a lot of activities we could do to pass the time if you’re getting too bored in the evenings,” he suggests and grins over his shoulder at her. She doesn’t return it.

“Don’t make me tickle you again,” she actually teases. “Don’t forget, I’ve found your kryptonite.”

“Yeah, yeah, woman,” he jokes. “What fiction novels? Apocalypse books? Zombie books?”

“No, those were always stupid and unrealistic. Obviously, I should’ve been studying weird ass plagues in college instead of architecture,” she reminisces. “I checked out… ok, wait, did you know that the librarian still works at the library and makes you check out books? She even made me get a library card that she hand wrote my name and address on!”

Cory laughs loudly and looks over his shoulder at her. “Yeah, she’s a real pickle, isn’t she?”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Paige agrees with a smile, exposing her white teeth.

“So what else did you get? Steamy romance novels? We could act out some of the scenes if you’re interested,” he hints. He’ll eventually wear her down. He did it once before. He’s nothing if not tenacious. She’ll eventually yield, and if she doesn’t, he’ll travel back to the Belmont Mansion if that’s what it takes.

“No, not romance novels,” she says and then makes a disgusted sound. “I checked out The Count of Monte Cristo, and The Grapes of Wrath.”

“The classics, huh?”

“Yeah, I just wanted something that made me feel normal,” she says with a soft sigh, one he’s pretty sure depicts a certain amount of sadness.

“’Often we pass beside happiness without seeing it, without looking at it, or even if we have seen it and looked at it, without recognizing it,’” he quotes.

“You’ve read The Count of Monte Cristo?” she asks as if she can’t believe her ears.

“I can read, you know,” he chastises her. “I’m not quite the caveman you love accusing me of being. Besides, before you came along to entertain me, I used to raid Doc’s library in his office.”

She huffs quietly, and Cory would like to know what she’s thinking.

“Did you always like reading?” he asks since she’s clammed up on him.

“Yeah, big reader,” she says.

“What other hobbies?”

“What’s it matter?” Paige asks as if she’s frustrated.

“It still matters,” he says. “It matters to me.”

“Fine,” she concedes. “I used to like drawing architectural prints. But I didn’t draw like Sam draws. I’m not that talented. I did it on my laptop with software.”

“That’s still cool,” Cory admits as his eyes scan their surroundings.

“Like I said, what’s it matter? That part of my life is gone.”

“Not necessarily. Architecture is going to be important again some day,” he says.

“I don’t think so,” she argues.

“It will,” he counters. “Someday the country will need to be rebuilt. Structural engineering and the understanding of architecture will be crucial in salvaging and rebuilding our country. Some of the buildings will eventually need to be torn down because they won’t be viable anymore. Some will be able to be saved. People like you will understand which ones are which.”

“You really think that’s gonna happen in our lifetimes?” she asks with a negative attitude.

“Maybe,” he offers, to which she snorts.

They ride another few minutes in silence, and Cory finds himself wanting to continue their conversation just because he likes the sound of her voice.

“I could go for a milkshake,” he reminisces aloud.

Paige actually laughs behind him.

“What? I could. Chocolate malt,” he explains.

“Well, good luck because I don’t think you’re gonna get one,” she tells him.

“Don’t count on it,” he says. “There’s an ice cream maker in the basement,” he informs her. “When I first came here, Grams made everyone ice cream because she needed to get rid of the last of their bagged ice for the freezer space. It was awesome.”

“Stop it,” she orders firmly. “You’re making me want ice cream now.”

Cory tips his head back and barks laughter at her expense.

“Besides, we’re low on sugar according to Hannah and Sue,” she says.

“Simon and Sam found quite a lot of it,” he argues.

“Yeah, but it’s not like they can take a pound of sugar and make ice cream for everyone just because you’ve got a craving.”

He smiles to himself and says, “I’ve got other cravings, too, but you also won’t let me indulge those, either.”

She just pinches the skin at his waist.

“Also, how would you keep your girlish figure if you go around gorging on ice cream?” she taunts.

“I can think of a few ways to burn off some calories,” he hints again, getting another poke, this one harder.

“Cut it out, Cory,” she reprimands.

“Woman, if I were to cut out this need I’ve got for you, I’d have to use a bowie knife,” he says as he pulls his horse to a stop near the outer barnyard and swings a leg over Jett’s neck.

“What?” she asks as he reaches up for her. “Wait, that’s not what I meant.”

Some of the hair in her ponytail has come loose from the ride and is framing the delicate bone structure of her face. He’d like to cut that ponytail holder and free it all. Then he’d like to lead her into the woods.

He offers help, reaches up, but she slaps his hand away and slides to the grown on her own much to his disappointment.

“Did you hear that?” she asks, her head whipping to the side.

“Someone’s conducting some target practice, I’d say,” he acknowledges. He’d already heard the shots. He knows the difference between target shooting and a firefight. “Wanna’ get in some plinking?”

“No, I’ve had enough of shooting and running for a while,” she says.

“Oh, hey, when I get up later today I’ll work on your rifle,” he tells her. “I’ve got it out in the shed. You can join me if you want.”

“No,” she says with a squint of her gray eyes.

Cory chuckles and shakes his head, “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just meant I’d show you how to tear it down and clean it. Then we’ll work on fixing that front sight.”

“Oh,” she says and lowers her gaze. “Sure.”

“I’ll be out there working before dinner,” he tells her as they approach the barn.

“Yeah, maybe,” she says.

“You should know how to tear it down and clean it at least,” he says.

Sam has made it back safely, as he knew she would or he wouldn’t have allowed her to leave without them. She’s in the riding arena working with one of the younger horses. She is definitely an invaluable member of their family because she does most of the horse training. Cory works with them when he can, and Reagan, as well, but Samantha is the one who dedicates the most time to their training. Cory has spent a lot of time watching her work with the horses. She is very connected with them, in tune, understanding, and they trust her implicitly. It’s almost a spiritual experience observing their connection.

“Fine, I’ll meet you out there unless I get assigned another chore,” she says.

“Good,” Cory returns and leads his stallion to the barn to have its tack removed. When he turns around to speak with her again, she’s gone. He watches her round the corner and leave. “That was abrupt,” he says to himself.

Cory turns out his stallion and makes his way to the shooting range behind the barn. John is there with Derek and G and her brother Lucas. They are assessing the new kids’ shooting skills, and John has obviously not gone to bed as he’d thought.

“What’s up, man?” John asks as Cory approaches.

“Nothing. Just brought Paige back from the Reynolds,” he tells his friend.

John nods with a grin as he pushes .9 millimeter rounds into a magazine. “Yeah, I thought Sam was taking her over there.”

“Figured I should escort them,” he explains. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Cory asks quickly before his mentor can further question his motive.

“Shouldn’t you?” John turns on him with a sly twist.

“How’s this going?” he asks, trying to get his friend off his six.

John chuckles knowingly and answers as he jams the mag into the bottom of the pistol, “Good. Both kids are very proficient.”

“That’s great,” Cory admits as he helps load a speed loader for a revolver.

“G likes the .38 revolver,” he tells him.

“This is pretty sweet. I like the checkering on the grips,” Cory admires the pistol.

“Yeah, that’s hers. She has two matching .38’s. She’s very… efficient with them.”

G ambles over and removes her earphones. She places the rifle she’s holding on the picnic table, their makeshift gun bench dragged out here a few years ago.

“Still like my pistols the best,” she says and steals a furtive, nervous glance at Cory, who tips an invisible hat to her in greeting.

“That’s fine, G,” John tells her. “But we do like every person on the farm to be trained on all available weapons. Never know. Might not be able to get to those two Smiths.”

“They never leave my side, so I’d say I’ll be ok,” she says with a wicked grin, picks up the revolvers, checks both to make sure they are empty of rounds, spins them on her small fingers like some sort of cowboy in a western and slides them smoothly into the holsters on her very narrow hips. Then she pulls down her baggy, black sweatshirt to conceal them. Perhaps that is the reasoning behind the hideous men’s clothing she wears that all looks too big for her.

John just chuckles. “Her brother over there prefers a shotgun.”

“Like Simon,” Cory comments. “Unless the professor’s on that sniper rifle. Did your dad teach you guys how to handle weapons?”

“Yeah, some,” she says. “We were both on a shooting team when we… well, when we were in school. Luke’s older than me, so once he graduated high school and left for college, it wasn’t as fun. I like the single shot competitions. Or, I used to. He liked trapshooting better.”

“Sounds fun,” Cory says with a grin.

“It was,” she says. Her eyes take on a look of sadness. “Unless the general was in town and actually made it to one of our matches. Then it wasn’t so fun.”

“Why’s that?” Cory asks, noting that John is simply listening, not questioning, but observing.

“He’s just…” she says with a sigh. “He has this unique talent.”

“Oh, yeah?” Cory asks with confusion.

“Yeah, it’s called sucking all the fun out of something,” she says and turns her back to them to join her brother again on the firing range where he is collecting target papers stapled to trees.

“We’d better hit the hay, Stalker,” John says as he raises his chin to his brother across the field to let him know that he’s leaving.

When John turns toward him, Cory realizes that he doesn’t want to walk back to the house with his friend. It could lead to more of the inquisition. Instead, he makes an excuse that he needs to check on something in the horse barn and leaves John. After he’s sure that his friend is gone, Cory jogs to the house and heads to the basement. He strips out of his clothing down to his boxers and drops onto his bed. The drapes are drawn on the single window, and it’s thankfully dark and quiet. The children are all outdoors enjoying the last remnants of fall before the weather turns miserable. Cory’s in misery already. He wishes that Paige was curled against his side like she was in the Belmont Mansion. He also wishes that she was devoid of clothing like that night. It takes him a while to fall to sleep because memories of the other night with her tease at the edge of his brain. Finally, he relaxes enough to catch some sleep because he remembers that they have a date later in the shed stripping her rifle.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Paige

She has nearly successfully managed to avoid Cory for the week and a half since they returned from the city. It hasn’t been easy, but Paige has been very dedicated to this cowardly act.

“Just set this one over there with the others, sis,” Simon instructs her. “I’ll transplant it later.”

They are working in the herb greenhouse, a small extension of the massive building of which Sue had overseen the construction, and he’s showing her how to transplant the wild herbs they find in the forest to the pots in the greenhouse. She knows he finds this a therapeutic form of relaxation, but for Paige, it’s mostly just confusing. Many of the plants look like weeds to her, and they pretty much all look the same, too.

“Sure,” she says with a smile as she places the tiny Calendula start on another counter. “Isn’t this just a flower?”

“Well, technically yes,” he answers. “But they do hold pretty powerful anti-inflammatory properties as well as helping the healing process. We use them quite often.”

“Weird,” she replies with a frown. “I never thought of flowers and weeds like we do now. Most of the stuff in this greenhouse just looks like stuff Dad would’ve complained about popping up in our yard.”

Simon chuckles softly and nods in agreement. “Yes, he was rather particular about the yard.”

“Like this thing,” she says, pointing to a pale purple flower that just resembles another weed. “What the heck is this one?”

“Oh,” Simon says and strolls over. “That’s Echinacea.”

“Really?” Paige asks with surprise. “I used to take that when I felt a cold coming on. Mom told me about it one time when I called home and said that the flu was running rampant on campus. She told me to go to the pharmacy and pick up a bottle of Echinacea capsules. It worked. I didn’t get sick.”

“Yes, this is a powerful plant,” Simon says with enthusiasm.

He seems in his element in the herb greenhouse where Sue also grows cooking herbs all winter. Her brother behaves in a more relaxed manner, less tense, less on edge as if he’s waiting for some impending storm or battle to descend upon the farm. In here, he can be himself, study, learn, sink his hands into the black soil, and contribute something to the dynamic of the farm other than killing people.

“See this?” he asks, touching the leaves of another plant. “Peppermint. Here, smell.”

“Mm,” Paige says. “Makes me want some gum.”
“We can dry the different mints we grow in here to mix with tea leaves. It helps soothe stomachaches, nausea, also good for a cold. The little kids come in sometimes and grab a leaf to chew on. Guess they want gum, too. It’s the best anyone’s gonna get.”

Paige snips off one small leaf and puts it in her mouth. Then she smiles as the mint flavor fills her senses.

“This is a pretty flower,” she says, pointing to a full, white fan-like flower with tiny buds and green leaves.

“Valerian,” he says with a nod. “It’s good for relaxation, sleep, or calming a person. We use it sometimes at the clinic. It can be dangerous if too much is given, though.”

“There’s so much to learn about herbs,” she comments, looking around at the vast variety of plants, flowers, and herbs. “This is overwhelming.”

“Not really,” he says, pushing his glasses higher up on his nose. “Just takes some time, but I think it’s pretty cool.”

She smiles at Simon and rests her palm against his cheek, covered in a light peppering of dark, auburn five o’clock shadow. So strange and surreal to see him in this state. Her little dork brother is now a grown man with beard stubble. He touches her hand on his cheek before turning away to his mortar and pestle. He twists and grinds against the smooth, hard marble bowl as Paige takes a seat on a stool next to him.

“What’s going on with you and Cory?” he asks directly, stops what he’s doing, and hits her with a deadly stare.

“Wh…what do you mean?” Paige stammers but quickly regains control and shoots him a look of confusion before turning away to study another flower beside her.

“You two have been acting strangely,” he observes too keenly. Simon points with his finger to the flower, “California poppy.”

“Oh, cool. Wish I was living in California about now,” she says, pulling her sweater tighter.

“And Cory?” he pushes.

“Hm, not sure I know what you mean,” she lies. Paige has been doing her best to avoid Cory and was hoping nobody noticed his unwarranted attentions. “Nothing’s going on. You know I don’t like him, so I just try to stay away from him. You know, so we don’t end up fighting. I know how much that upsets you.”

“Yes, it does,” he admits.

Paige turns back to find her brother staring hard at her. She knows he’s looking for a flaw, an inconsistency in her story. His expression is one of suspicion.

Simon continues, “But I also don’t want him hitting on you or flirting with you, either.”

Paige swallows hard, “Um, no. No way! He doesn’t. Cory doesn’t like me any more than I like him, Simon.”

“Are you trying to convince me of this?” he asks with a narrowing of his knowing blue eyes. “Or are you trying to convince yourself?”

She blows out her nose trying to act aloof and hoping it comes off as genuine. “Yeah, right! Get real, Simon. I can’t stand him. He’s such a chauvinistic jerk.”

“Who’s a jerk?” Cory asks from the doorway. “Me? Should my ears be burning?”

They both spin to find him standing there, and Paige isn’t sure how much of their conversation he’s overheard. She hopes it wasn’t much. She has been trying to keep her distance from him, but she also doesn’t want to hurt his feelings. The part about him being a chauvinist is true, very true, but he isn’t a jerk. Knowing what she does about him after that trip to Nashville, Paige realized that a lot of her perceptions about Cory were just plain wrong. Avoiding him is an act of self-preservation, not one of genuine contempt.

“What? Um… no!” Paige stammers on a breathless lie.

He grins and nods slowly. “Sure you weren’t. What’s up, Professor?”

“Just workin.’ What are you doing? Lazing around?” her brother teases.

“Yep,” Cory says with good humor. “Hannah wants to talk to you, beanpole.”

“Oh,” Paige says, still embarrassed at being caught calling him a jerk. “’Bout what?”

“Chickens,” he answers with a chuckle.

Paige grimaces. She’s not too fond of the chickens, especially those damn roosters. They peck the backs of her legs every time she’s around them. She’s pretty sure those bastards know she’s afraid of them. She doesn’t care how pretty or how fancy or how iridescent their tail feathers are, she isn’t going to like them.

He ignores her dismay and asks Simon, “Ready for tonight, bro?”

“Yes,” he answers.

“Can I go too?” Paige asks with hope. She’d like to learn how they do a night patrol so that she can contribute more. Tonight the two of them are going to town to conduct a night patrol looking for the town thief. They’ve received word from the sheriff of their town that the cat burglar has struck again. This time, he raided the food pantry that is meant for the old people in town who cannot properly care for themselves anymore or grow their own gardens.

“Hm… let me think about it,” Cory says, crosses his arms over his chest and rubs his beard. “No.”

Paige glares at him with angry rejection. “Simon, can I go?”

Cory smiles ruefully at her.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sis,” Simon tells her. “It could be dangerous. We don’t know who’s doing this, but they could be a threat if we discover and confront them. Could be armed, too.”

“So?” Paige says. “I’ve been in dangerous positions before. Remember? Like a few weeks ago in the city with you two?”

Cory scowls at this comment.

“Then why do you want to go back into another dangerous situation?” Simon asks.

“I just want to learn from you guys. I want to help more,” Paige answers honestly.

“You could go make some bread with Hannah and Sue,” Cory suggests with a smug grin. Paige slugs his arm, getting a loud, obnoxious laugh for an answer. “You can’t go with us. It’s our job, not yours.”

“Sexist,” she retorts.

“Feminist,” he returns with a grin.

“Don’t you two have something better to do? I’m working here,” Simon reprimands.

“Chickens,” Cory reminds her.

“Right,” she says and leaves them in the greenhouse. It only takes a minute to find Hannah. She’s in the music room with some of the kids since it has been raining cats and dogs for two days straight. “Cory said you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, I did,” Hannah returns with a smile and rises from her place on a bench.

Paige follows her to the dining room where she slides the pocket doors closed.

“I have an idea for the chicken coop. Obviously, I can’t draw it out, so I need your help,” Hannah tells her as they both take a seat.

“What kind of idea?” Paige asks, intrigued.

“Well, you see, the hens that aren’t nesting on fertilized eggs keep pecking the eggs that are fertilized and chasing the nesting hens away. The roosters keep pushing the nesting hens off their nests, too. We’re losing chicks because of it.”

“That’s not good,” Paige says.

“No, not at all,” Hannah agrees. “We have to figure out a new addition to the coop. I’m thinking that I’d like the back wall taken off, and another section of coop added on just for the nesting hens. We could put a door on it or something. Once they get on and nest, they don’t get back off. Well, they don’t normally get off. As in this case, they’re being pushed off their nests. They’ll incubate those eggs until the babies are hatched. But if other chickens are fighting with them, it’s hard for them to stay on. They know what they’re doing. They have to turn those eggs and keep them warm.”

“How long does this process generally take?”

“About three weeks,” Hannah answers. “If the mother is chased off the eggs by more aggressive hens or roosters, sometimes they won’t get back on the nest. We have to keep our rotations of new chickens going, or we could eventually run out of new layers.”

“No layers, no eggs for breakfast,” Paige affirms.

“For a vegan, you sure do like to eat eggs,” Hannah comments with a smile.

“Better than starving,” Paige jokes to which Hannah laughs.

“True,” she agrees. “The nesting birds don’t need to free range or get off their nesting boxes, so this enclosed part of the building could be its own section that doesn’t open up to the barnyard. I think they’ll feel safer, too, and not worry so much about their eggs.”

“Good idea,” Paige says. “What do you need me for?”

“I want you to take a look at our existing coop and draw up an idea for the men to build an addition for our nesting hens.”

“Oh, sure,” she says with enthusiasm. Finally, something she can do without just being in the way of everyone. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Thanks,” Hannah says with a smile. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you much since you guys returned from Nashville. Did everything go all right?”

“Um, sure,” Paige says hesitantly. She knows that Hannah can be overly sensitive to things that people would much rather hide from her. Paige has a boatload of things that she needs to keep concealed.

“Cory’s wound is healing up nicely, Reagan said,” Hannah tells her unexpectedly.

“Great, that’s good,” Paige says, starting to feel unsure of herself.

“Did you have trouble with Cory? I know that the men had you paired up with him and that you two don’t like each other very well. That could’ve been uncomfortable.”

“No, no. We’re fine. We worked out our issues,” Paige lies.

“Oh, really?” Hannah asks.

“Yeah, sure,” she says. They technically did work out their issues, but she’s leaving out the part where they slept together. “Everyone needs to get along on the farm, right? So we buried the hatchet.”

“That’s good news,” Hannah says coyly.

“Well, I’d better get started on this,” Paige says and stands. She has to get away from Hannah and her sly looks and her knowing, sightless eyes. Avoidance is key with Hannie.

She spends the next hour in the chicken coop sketching out a design for the guys to build. There are issues with the foundation. The original coop has a cement block foundation and an actual poured concrete footer. It probably wasn’t always a coop, but it serves its purpose well as one. They will have to tie in without a poured footer or concrete block. The height difference in the roof line will have to be leveled up with some treated lumber and buried posts like a pole barn. Sue’s son, Justin, comes in a while later to collect eggs and tell her that dinner is almost ready. He’s a sweet kid with sandy brown hair like his dad and a soft demeanor like his mother. Arianna drives him nuts. She’s about the bossiest little sister on earth, and he puts up with a lot. He’ll make a great husband one day.

She places her drawing on the entry table near the front door of the big house so that she can work on it later in her bedroom, which is actually Sam’s room. Then she joins the others outside for evening chores. She isn’t too fond of milking the cows, but she doesn’t mind the goats and chickens as much. Paige leads a nanny goat to a milking stall, and Justin sets up his stool to get her milked.

“Want me to do that?” she offers.

“Nah, I got this. Athena’s easy to milk,” he replies with a broad smile.

She returns his grin with one of her own. The kids on the farm have named all of the goats after Greek gods. It was funny the first time she heard them running around calling, “Athena!”, “Ares!”, “Apollo!”, or “Poseidon!” They are creative little munchkins, and she often finds herself comparing the childhood she had with theirs. Growing up in Arizona was completely different than this farm in Tennessee, but she certainly can’t find any fault in it. When she’d first arrived on the McClane farm, she’d been overwhelmed by it all, confused by the animals and their care, and genuinely flabbergasted. Now it just feels like home instead of some place she’s passing through to the next. Having Simon on it helps with that homesick feeling she used to get in such painful waves they seemed debilitating.

Gretchen comes into the goat enclosure of the barn to join them for chores.

“Can I help?” she asks while also attempting to conceal a grimace of disgust.

“Uh… sure,” Paige says. “We need to get Aphrodite lined up next to be milked. That’s all for the goats for tonight, just the three.”

“Damn, they stink,” G says, causing Paige to laugh out loud.

She says as she hooks the lead line to the nanny’s collar, “Yeah, they kinda’ do. The billies smell worse than the nannies. Here, G, you can lead her over to the next station. What did you guys do for dairy products at the bunker place?”

The petite teen takes the lead line from Paige with a great deal of apprehension and says, “The dairy farmers in the village supplied the bunker with products.”

“Dairy farmers?”

“Yeah, there were four small dairy farms in the new city,” she says as she struggles with the goat.

“Really? And they just gave everyone supplies?”

“Yes, it was a barter system,” G explains.

This makes more sense to Paige. “What did the people in the bunker contribute to the barter system? Doesn’t sound like you could grow food in a cave. Maybe mushrooms,” she jokes as her brother joins them. Simon has a big smear of black dirt on his cheek. With his strange manner of dress, it looks out of place. So do his filthy hands. As usual, he’s wearing clothing that seems impractical for farm work. His classic, checkered button-down with the Ralph Lauren logo is covered in grime and dirt. His navy blue wool overcoat, brown leather loafers, and khakis seem out of place with the big rifle slung over his shoulder. Sometimes her brother reminds her of Herb. Other than the dirt, the black stocking cap, and the rifle, he looks just like he used to when he was going to some science fair or another back home.

Cory comes in directly behind Simon and is such a stark contrast to her brother that it almost makes her laugh. His wild hair is pulled back into a low queue, his black jeans are torn and ripped in places, and he looks like a total barbarian. He’s wearing a black, concert t-shirt, although it must only be near fifty degrees outside. There is dirt under his fingernails and hay sticking out of his hair. She has no reasonable explanation for her attraction to him.

“Yeah, mushrooms,” G answers on a chuckle. “No, the bunker offered protection. The President and the government dudes provided military protection to the people in the village.”

“But that seems strange,” Paige thinks out loud.

“Socialism,” G says pointedly.

“Socialism? What do you mean?”

“That’s why my dad was sick of it. The whole system out there is set up on a model for socialism. The people in the new city contributed their goods and… well, whatever else the government people wanted.”

“Sounds like Jamestown all over again,” Cory comments.

“America’s first settlement?” Paige questions.

“Not technically, but yes,” he answers. “America’s first failed settlement would be more accurate. Everyone always remembers the Pocahontas-John Smith story because of silly Hollywood movies and remake after remake of it, but the real story was that John Smith saved the people from… well, themselves and their ridiculous socialist society. They tried socialism, everyone contributing to the greater good of the settlement, nobody making money, just sharing the bounty. It didn’t work. Everyone almost starved to death because individual responsibility was taken away from the people. They were lazy and took what they wanted from the food stores instead of working on crops and preparing for winter. Hell, even the local Indians tried to help them, but they also knew what was going on there was gonna fail. ”

“But the people in the new city are working hard,” G counters.

“Yes, but for how long? And they’ve essentially got a gun to their heads forcing the will of this newfound government down their collective throats. When you take away motivation, then the system fails. Socialism never works. It won’t work there, either,” he says with an insight and maturity that Paige wouldn’t have thought him capable of being. Evidently, he does enjoy reading history books.

“That’s what my dad says, too,” G says with a nod.

Cory raises his eyebrows and shrugs, “He sounds like he has a pretty firm grasp on what’s going on out there. Is he ready to meet with us yet?”

“No, not yet,” she tells them. “He’s down pretty bad this time. Hasn’t been this sick since the first outbreak. Luke did most of the driving to get us here because the general was in the back and my mom was taking care of him. My brother’s good at getting where we need to go. But my dad was out of it most of the time.”

“That’s too bad,” Simon says quietly. “Doc’s great, though. He’ll help your dad get better.”

G nods with a frown as if she doesn’t believe this at all, as if she’s not sure her father will recover. Paige has no idea if the man will live. She’s only ever heard of smallpox. She knows nothing about it but does know that Reagan and Doc have been studying it non-stop for the last week. Everything they find on it gets filtered and passed down to Simon for extra study. Her brother has enthusiastically been perusing the information. Sometimes it depresses her knowing that Simon could’ve been a great scientist and that his life has been reduced to a post-apocalyptic physician who mostly sews up wounds and treats illnesses. Of course, she’s designing a damn chicken coop instead of a skyscraper.

Simon and Cory leave to feed the pigs, and Paige shows G how to milk the other goat, Zeus, who was inappropriately given a male god’s name by the children. Sue told her that none of them had the heart to explain it to the kids since they found so little pleasure in their small lives. The goat doesn’t seem to mind, and the kids don’t even notice it. When they are finished with evening chores, Paige and the rest of her group walk to the house with two buckets of milk and spread out in different directions to wash up for dinner, which smells like the best five-star restaurant in Phoenix. She takes the stairs two at a time to the second floor. It’s easier than waiting in line behind all the kids and some of the adults. She washes her hands with the homemade bar of soap and dries them on the available towel. When she leaves the restroom, she nearly runs down Lucas.

“Oh, sorry,” Paige exclaims and lays a hand across her chest to still her pounding heart. He’s taller than her by a few inches, and she remembers someone saying that he’s twenty-two or thereabouts and that his sister, G, is fifteen. If he’s the same age as Hannah, then Robert must’ve been cheating on his wife with Lucy, his wife that she still hasn’t met.

“No, I’m sorry,” Lucas mumbles and steps to the side to let her pass.

A lock of his dark hair has fallen over his forehead, and his hands are covered in grime.

“You may need another bar of soap,” she jokes.

Lucas smiles and nods. “I think you might be right.”

“Lots of work to do around here.”

“I’m glad for the hard work. Idle hands and all,” he says with a nod.

“What were you doing?” she asks, curious to know.

He smiles, his straight white teeth exposed, “Working with Derek and Cory on the Hummer. I guess it hasn’t worked in a while, and so we robbed some small parts from other vehicles and a few from the bus we brought.”

“Right,” she says with a nod and leaves him to his privacy. He seems quieter than his sister and more reserved.

Paige furrows her brow thinking about their differences and the strange appearance of this new family, who actually has more of a right to live on the farm than she does.

“Nice chat?” Cory asks, startling her again.

“Geesh!” she says. “You scared me.”

“Why? Are you nervous about something?”

Paige frowns and tries to go around him toward the staircase, but Cory steps in front of her.

“What are you doing?” she whispers frantically.

“What were you talking about with Luke?”

She shakes her head and answers, “Nothing. Work, getting dirty. What’s it matter?”

He purses his lips and squints his eyes at her.

“What?” Paige repeats.

“Nothing,” Cory says.

“Don’t be weird,” she scolds him.

Cory frowns hard at her and says, “Don’t be flirting with other dudes and I won’t get weird.”

“What?” she nearly shouts and then remembers the house full of people below them, most who would not approve of their one-night stand.

“He’s the same age as us,” Cory reminds her as if she needs him to.

“So?” Paige asks with confusion. “Wait, do you think I can’t control myself around other men? Is that what you’re insinuating?”

Cory just scowls.

“This is ridiculous,” she hisses. “I was just being cordial. It’s not like I’m looking for a relationship. I don’t want a relationship with anyone, not you, either.”

“Ouch,” he says and jerks back.

Paige cocks her head to the side with irritation.

“We don’t even know him,” Cory says. “We don’t know any of them.”

“They’re a part of the McClane family, Cory. I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

“They aren’t really a part of the family. They’ve never even met any of the McClanes. I think… I think we should be cautious.”

“Fine,” she returns and crosses her arms over her chest.

They are interrupted from further discussing it as Lucas emerges from the bathroom. He excuses himself and passes by, going downstairs to join the melee.

Cory takes her hand and says, “Just be careful. We don’t know him, Paige.”

He’s rubbing gently at the top of her hand with his thumb which causes tingles to spread.

“I’m always careful,” she says, then pauses to consider that statement. “Well, I usually am. Apparently not too careful when it comes to you.”

Cory tugs her closer and slips a sneaky arm behind her back.

“Hey! Cory!” she whispers hysterically, afraid they’ll be seen. “Let me go. Seriously. Someone’s gonna see.”

“Kiss me and I’ll let you go,” he bribes.

Paige plasters a stoic frown on her face.

“Better hurry up,” he teases.

Her eyes grow wide as she realizes that he’s actually serious and has no intention of releasing her. Paige shakes her head but relents. She leans up and presses a kiss to his mouth. He pulls her tighter and deepens their kiss. Before he can go too far, she jerks back and out of his grasp.

As she jogs downstairs, she can hear his muffled laughter on the second floor. She just hopes nobody saw them. She has enough problems. Hell, just staying alive is a big enough problem without complicating it with relationship issues. Later as they are dining with the family, she tries not to notice how he stares without much subtlety at her throughout the entire meal. When the meal concludes, she connects with John and finagles her way onto their night watch trip to town. She doesn’t care if Cory doesn’t want her to go with them. He’s not in charge of her, nor does he have the right to tell her where to go, what to do, or with whom she may speak.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Simon

Simon finds Sam in the horse barn at ten p.m. She is awaiting the birth of a new foal and has been loath to leave the mare alone. Reagan spent most of the previous evening in the barn, but tonight Sam must feel like she needs to keep watch.

“Hey, Sam,” he greets from the stall door. “Is she getting any closer?”

“Grandpa says she is,” Sam answers with a soft smile. “I can’t wait. I hope it’s a baby girl. He says I can name it either way.”

He grins at her language. She knows more than he does about horses, more than most of them do, but she still calls the horse a baby girl instead of a filly.

“What are you gonna name it?” he asks, opening the stall door to stand inside. This mare is particularly gentle and calm. She’s used to people and wouldn’t even think of hurting them. Last year, Reagan had been crushed against a stall wall while trying to assist a different mare in birth. It had been rough. The mare had struggled for too long, and Doc was concerned that she was going to die in the stall where it would make it difficult to get her back out. With Reagan and Doc’s assistance and Simon’s observation, she’d made it. Treating humans is preferable to the animals, but he knows how important it is for him to learn some veterinary care.

“I’m thinking Roxy for a filly and Wally if it’s a colt,” she explains patiently, her bright blue eyes happy for a change.

“Good names,” he comments with ease. It’s nice to have something positive to think about, even if it’s only for a few days.

“Are you guys getting ready to go?” she asks and leaves the horse to move closer to him.

“We are,” he says, staring down at her upturned face. “I just wanted to check on the progress.”

“We’re doing fine, sir,” she says with sass.

“Are you?” he asks in a more serious tone, causing her to look away.

“Yes, we’re fine. She’ll be just fine. She’ll have this baby, and everyone will be so happy. Wait till the new kids see the foal. They’ve probably never seen a baby horse before.”

“Are you doing ok, Sam?” he asks with more concern, knowing full-well that she just ignored his question and intent.

“Of course,” she says with way too much false optimism and joviality in her voice.

Simon knows darn well that she isn’t doing fine at all. He knows everything about her, and he knows that Samantha isn’t doing well. She has been withdrawn and has been disappearing a lot lately. That’s not good. He’s had to go looking for her more than once in the last week. He never seems to find her, either. This reclusive manner of behavior concerns him.

“You can talk to me,” he offers.

She looks up at him, and Simon sees a lot of what she’s been trying to hide from everyone. She can’t hide it from him. The darkness has returned. Sam quickly turns away and collects a brush from the feed bin.

“Grandpa says if we brush her down and rub her that it’ll help to keep her calm, to soothe her,” she stammers with a nervous little laugh.

“You ready?” Cory loudly calls from the other end of the barn, startling Simon out of his pensive state about Sam.

“We’ll talk later, ok?” he says to Sam, who doesn’t respond. “I’ll be…”

“Take care of Cory. Be careful,” she says without turning to look at him.

Simon doesn’t answer her but stands there like a fool staring at Sam, wishing she wouldn’t lock him out like this. But tonight, he has work to do. He’ll have to find time tomorrow for Sam. He just hopes she doesn’t turn him away again.

He is not at all pleased with his sister, either. She managed to talk John into tagging along with them. They are traveling by horseback to town in order to conserve gas, so she’s riding behind Cory, whose horse is much better suited for carrying two.

They are all three dressed in black to enable more furtive movement in town. The sentries know they are coming, which is important in case one of them might have a penchant for being trigger happy. Chet Reynolds is also joining them and should already be there, having driven one of their four-wheelers to town.

“Damn, I’m starting to regret this,” Paige complains.

“So are we,” Cory snaps with heat.

“Shush,” his sister commands. “I mean because I’m cold.”

Simon calls a halt, unhooks the straps of his saddle bag and retrieves the small, plaid wool blanket he keeps in there.

“Here, Paige,” he offers, handing it over to her. “At least you can lay this on your lap. It’ll keep you a little warmer.”

“Thanks,” she says, placing it on her lap and down around her legs.

They resume their journey, both men scowling at their predicament of having Paige with them. Simon had wanted the time alone with his friend so that he could question him about Paige. Cory has been treating her differently since they returned from Nashville, and Simon wants to know what has brought about the change. There is a possibility that they’ve had such a complete three-sixty because Cory saved her life in that fall through the floor incident, and they are simply more bonded now. But it could be something else entirely. If his friend is developing some sort of attraction to her, he’d better knock it off and quick.

When they reach the outer perimeter of town, they tie their horses to tree branches and split up. Simon takes his sister with him. No sense in tempting fate if his hunch about Cory is right.

“So what do we do?” she asks as they enter the town’s new gate, care of her architectural design.

Simon greets the sentries and takes his sister west. “We’ll move around quietly, try to see if there’s any movement at night in town that doesn’t fit the normal characteristics.”

“What’s normal?”

“People checking on their livestock, working by candlelight or their generator, that sort of thing. If you see anything that doesn’t seem right, anyone moving that I don’t see, let me know.”

“Got it,” she says.

They are both wearing night-vision gear so they can see clearly.

“Cory is covering the east end and will be moving toward us. Try not to shoot him,” he jokes.

“We’ll see,” she says wryly. “Can’t make any promises.”

He smiles at her and leads Paige toward a row of homes. A few have an interior light on, but like most homes now, they are pitch dark. They are either dark because they are abandoned or because electricity no longer works and most people can’t afford the generator power or candles. They walk a few blocks, pass a patrol group on horseback, and Simon offers a greeting. They all know why the McClane family has come to town, and they sure as heck aren’t about to stand in the way. It was essential to make sure the people on patrol were ones they could trust not to be their thief.

They walk down short streets no longer lit by lamps or lights in people’s homes.

“I miss Arizona,” his sister complains quietly.

He smiles because he understands what she means. The night air is damp, chilly. “I know. I do, too, sometimes.”

“Think we’ll ever be able to go back?”

Simon shakes his head and states firmly, “No, I don’t. This is it. This is our life now. We’re never gonna be able to go back out there. Trust me, sis, you don’t want to. It was bad when I left with Aunt Amber. It was bound to get even worse.”

“Probably.”

“There’s also going to be more problems in the dry, desert climates. Think about water sources. That alone is going to prove a problem out west when people can’t rely on the city water departments anymore.”

“Or air conditioning in the summer,” she jokes.

“Yes, there is that, as well,” he concedes with a smile. “The creature comforts are gone.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” she tells him. “I like it here, I’m just not sure about living here forever. I guess I’m just homesick.”

“I know,” he says and rests his hand on her shoulder a moment. “I miss them, too.”

He knows the ache in her heart is for their dead parents because he often feels it, as well.

“There’s no looking back, sis,” Simon warns. “Don’t do it. You’ll only upset yourself. Mom’s in a better place.”

“What about Dad?”

“He probably is, too,” he admits.

Paige shakes her head, “He could still be alive, Simon. Look at me. You figured I was dead, too, and I made it.”

“But he was in London when it was bombed,” Simon reminds her.

“I know,” she says softly.

He isn’t great with cheering people up. If he were, he’d have a full-time job cheering up his friend Sam. She’s always sad, especially since they came back from Nashville. Her life since the fall has been nothing but fear, danger, worry, but he’d like something else for her. Samantha deserves a little happiness, so he’s planning on taking her soon to visit her family’s graves. He knows she wants to, but they’ve just been so busy. So many of the women from the sex camp have been brought to the clinic each time they’ve had it open in the last week and a half. Dave’s men always bring them in one of their town’s pick-up trucks and escort them back home. The young woman being kept across the street in the Victorian home finally awakened from her comatose state yesterday. The big soldier who’d felt responsible for her injury hadn’t left her side for even a moment. He is a good man, a vigilant watchdog, and self-appointed protector of Reese, which they’ve discovered is her name. She’s twenty-three and was taken captive when the men running the sex camp killed the people with whom she’d been traveling, her trusted friends. Simon can’t even imagine the horror she’s been through. Bruce, her savior, has agreed to keep an eye on her until she is well enough to be moved. She’d only been there two weeks when they’d raided the place and freed them. It feels good to help women like her and the others. They were all innocent, helpless, harmless people who hadn’t deserved such disgusting, horrible things to happen to them. A few of them have venereal diseases, which is a new treatment for him. He hasn’t had any experience with that, not on any level, not as a person or a doctor.

A herd of deer runs across a small open field to their direct south, startling his sister.

“What the heck?” she exclaims. “Where’d they come from?”

Simon chuckles. He’d seen their movement but had assumed that Paige had, too.

“They must be moving around a lot because it’s fall. They rut in the fall,” he observes as he leads her away from the deer toward the food bank. They’ve recently moved the supplies from the town hall to the grade school to deter further theft. It will also let them know if it’s an inside job since only a handful of people know of the changed location.

“Those must be the deer Roy told us about,” Paige says.

“Yeah, it’s a great idea, raising deer for meat and hides,” Simon agrees. Recently, Roy, the family’s trusted friend in town has taken up a new hobby, rounding up and fencing in wild deer. So far, he has nearly a dozen captured. The only downfall in the plan is that the whole town isn’t quite fenced in yet, and they’ve had to improvise in places by raising eight foot woven wire fencing to keep them to just the south side of town. It seems to be working. Once they have a herd started, he plans on releasing the older, wild adults back to the forest.

Simon uses his key to gain admittance into the school’s back door, the one they’ve been using to move supplies.

“Ok, this is creepy,” his sister says when they enter, the long hallway stretching before them.

“Doesn’t make you want to be back in school?” he teases.

“Not in this school,” she says with an exaggerated grimace.

They walk to the kitchen area where the food pantry items appear to be untouched.

“That’s a relief,” he says on a sigh. “I was worried we’d come in here and find more missing.”

“Good,” she says, looking around. “It would be a shame if someone stole all of this.”

“Yes, it would,” Simon agrees. “There are too many older people in town now that would go hungry this winter.”

“We could help. I mean the McClanes, not us.”

“No, we couldn’t, and I mean we as in the McClanes and us,” he says with a wink.

“Why not? We couldn’t just let people go hungry.”

Simon checks the cooler, not that it runs anymore, but it is where they are storing a lot of the curing meats.

“Because, sis, we have Robert and his family to feed, too,” he says. “Doctor McClane was talking with Reagan and me yesterday and said that there was no way we’d be able to contribute to the town pantry this year, at least not much. We have four more mouths to feed and everything we planted extra will be needed at the farm.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” she says sadly.

“It’ll be ok,” he says and touches her thin arm. She’s wearing a black turtleneck and matching coat borrowed from Sue.

“What do you think about his son returning with his family?” Paige queries and leans against a stainless steel counter.

This is the first time they’ve had to themselves in a while. A strong sense of nostalgia hits him.

He pauses a moment to think about her question before answering, “I guess it’s up to the family to decide, not me.”

“What do you think about his kids?”

“They seem all right. Lucas is pretty quiet most of the time. I think he feels out of place. G’s a little more open to making friends with us.”

“Yeah, she’s a pistol,” Paige remarks with a chuckle as they lock up the kitchen and head toward the back door again.

“That she is,” he nods as they pass a kindergarten classroom. It makes him feel melancholy. He wonders where all of the little kids have gone that used to go to this school. Perhaps many of them still live in town with their parents or out farther on farms like him, but Simon knows that this is likely untrue. Many of them probably fled with their families when it all started. He just hopes they are all safe tonight somewhere with warm beds and full bellies.

“Doc’s been out there a lot, at our cabin,” she says.

Simon lets her go through the door first. Then he locks it behind them. “Yes, he’s treating his son’s symptoms. He’s in a bad way.”

“I’ve heard. Do you think he’s contagious? I’m not even sure if we were vaccinated for smallpox when we were little.”

“Doubtful, indeed,” Simon tells her. “It wouldn’t matter according to Doc. He says he did a tour through Africa one year when he was a lot younger on a trip for Doctors without Borders. He said he saw a few, rare cases of small pox but that it wasn’t anything like this. This is the worst he’s encountered.”

“Great. Sounds terrible.”

“Yes, he said his son is running high fevers now and can’t keep much down,” Simon informs her. “But he does not believe his son is contagious. That’s key. Reagan and I have been studying his blood samples. That’s been very helpful, indeed.”

“You’re so weird,” she jokes with a chuckle, causing Simon to laugh, as well.

It is after one a.m. when they meet up with Cory again behind their family medical practice.

“See anything?” Simon asks as he lowers his night-vision gear.

“Not really,” Cory answers and removes his own goggles as Paige does the same. “Stopped by Jackie’s house. She said people in town are starting to treat them differently.

“Jackie?” Paige asks testily. “You mean your old girlfriend?”

Simon regards his sister with a confused expression. He notes that Cory’s eyes jump nervously to his before he tries to appear nonchalant with a shrug.

“Relax, beanpole,” he jokes, getting an even angrier look from Paige. “We didn’t have time for a quickie, so it’s all good.”

“You aren’t…” she starts but stops herself midsentence. Then she looks at Simon and says. “He’s just disgusting. See? I told you I can’t stand him.”

She hits Cory with such a nasty glare that even Simon winces.

“Easy now, Red,” Cory pleads. “You’re still my partner when we go on runs to the city.”

She is truly miffed at Cory.

“What do you care who he’s sleeping with?” Simon inquires with a terse sneer.

“I don’t. He’s… he’s just irritating me,” she says, not really convincing Simon.

“You’re behaving evasively, Paige,” Simon remarks, feeling his ire rise.

“Did you guys have any luck?” Cory asks, interrupting Simon from further questioning her reaction to him meeting up with his girlfriend from the armory.

“Not much,” Simon answers after a long pause. “We saw some teenagers over by the old gas station, but they weren’t doing anything nefarious.”

Cory chuckles, but Simon isn’t sure why he’s doing so.

“Other than that, we don’t have any good leads,” he explains. “We circled the grade school, the shopping plaza, and the football field. Didn’t see anything. Saw some deer and a stray cat. Everyone’s tucked in for the night.”

His friend is staring at Paige and not really listening.

“You look dead on your feet,” Cory says to his sister.

She frowns and replies, “I guess I hadn’t really thought about running around town on foot all night without sleep when I decided to tag along with you guys.”

“That’s why we both caught a nap after dinner,” he tells her with a superior grin.

Paige sends him another ugly glare.

Simon butts in and says, “I’ve got the key to the clinic. Why don’t you sack out on the sofa in the back?”

“Maybe not the clinic,” Cory says, rejecting Simon’s idea. “They had a break-in at the clinic while we were gone. I don’t think I’d want Paige in there by herself if someone comes poking around for more of our shit.”

“Right, good point,” Simon agrees.

“Why don’t we set you up in the gas station down the street? It’s a small, mom-and-pop shop with a repair garage behind it. I know. I’ve sacked out on the sofa in the office before while we pulled all-nighters in town. It’s safe.”

“That’s a better idea,” Simon says with a nod. “It’s definitely safer, and nobody’s gonna come in there looking for anything.”

“I’m ok,” she argues with tired gray eyes. “I just need a break. I’ll be ready to go in a few minutes. Anyone have a shot of espresso?”

Cory chuckles at her joke. “Come on, beanpole. I’ll take you over there. There’s a wood-burning stove and some blankets, too. I’ll get it started for you before I leave. I’m headed in that direction next anyway to get to my crow’s nest.”

“Crow’s nest?” she asks.

Simon explains, “Yeah, Cory’s gonna use the roof of the town hall, and I’m going up in one of your watch towers that they finished while we were gone. Looks like your design ideas are paying off already.”

“Good,” she says on a yawn.

“Make sure her radio is working in case we need to get in touch with her,” Simon tells his friend.

“You think this is my first rodeo, Professor?” Cory jokes.

Simon scowls and says, “Need I remind you that you almost got her killed at the college?”

Cory’s face instantly falls, and he looks like he’s going to be sick. It almost makes Simon feel bad for being so blunt.

“Hey,” Paige says and touches his arm. “Simon, that’s not fair. It was an accident. I should’ve waited for Cory to go into that room ahead of me.”

Now she’s defending him? Something isn’t right with these two.

“Sorry, bro,” he apologizes. “Just check her radio. I’m headed to the perch.”

“You got it,” Cory says.

Cory waves with a half salute as he leads his sister away. He finds himself looking over his shoulder to spy on them more than once as they move through the dark, quiet town.

He relieves the guard on duty and takes up position in the tall tower that overlooks a good portion of their small village. He breaks for a minute to eat a muffin that he packed. It will give him a boost of energy to stay awake. He pulls a handful of papers from his pack, as well. He stole them earlier from Samantha’s art book. He has to destroy them before anyone else sees them, but Simon wanted to study them more closely before doing away with the evidence.

He sits down, leaning his back against the wooden railing and eats his berry muffin while perusing her art. It’s worse than anything he’s seen from her to date. There is a charcoal, so dark and dreary in content that it is not even in focus. Everything has been smeared and smudged to an almost unrecognizable blur of imagery. He’s pretty sure it is a drawing of the man that Cory killed, one of the men who’d taken her captive. Another one is a city on fire, presumably Nashville. He knows it’s Nashville because she’s even drawn a green highway marker with the name of the city on it. There are orange flames colored in around the mostly black charcoal. There are others, but the one that disturbs him the most is a sketch that she has drawn of herself killing the man she’d been forced to stab to death. Only in this drawing, she isn’t stabbing him with her knife as she had. He is tied to a wall, a brick wall, the detail so vivid. She is running him through with a long spear. There are biblical elements to the picture, as well. She is wearing a long red robe and has drawn matching horns on her head as if she thinks of herself as a demonic being. The stark contrast of the dark charcoal and the brilliant reds are shocking to behold. The horns on her head are not small like those of their dairy goats, but huge, long, curling backward and would be measured in feet not inches and also colored a brilliant red. Simon had seen this one first and had immediately known he had to take the rest of the stack before anyone else could view them. He’d gone up to her room looking for his sister, who now has to share a room with Sam. She’d hidden the drawings under her pillow, but a tiny splash of red had been peeking out from beneath. It had taken his breath away. It still does. He doesn’t understand why she would’ve drawn herself as a demon or devil. She was completely innocent in the situation and should harbor no guilty feelings about what she’d been forced to do. If anything, he should feel guilty, and he does. He should’ve been there. He should’ve run faster so that he would’ve made it to the building before she had to fend for herself. He shouldn’t have allowed them to go to the other side of that stupid fence to go to the bathroom. He hasn’t slept much since they came home from the city because these guilty, plaguing feelings keep him up at night and tear at the raw edges of his moral conscience. Now she sees herself as a bad person. Simon has to talk with her as soon as possible. He just hopes she doesn’t shut him out again. Simon is genuinely worried that he might not be able to bring her back from the brink this time.

CHAPTER NINE

Cory

He tucks his empty thermos of instant coffee back into his pack and rests it against the knee wall. He’s still perched on the rooftop of the city hall building where they hold their meetings with the townspeople when they come to town. Cory usually doesn’t have any interest in attending those meetings but may have to start if the thefts continue. It is a growing concern for the citizens, and now it has become a concern for the McClane family since the medical clinic has been looted. This is not the day after the first tsunami. This is nearly four years into it. Thievery and looting will no longer be deemed as acceptable survival behavior.

Simon called in a few minutes ago to let him know it’s still quiet down where he is on the other side of town and that he was going to move toward the unfinished section of fencing. They have a hunch that their burglar may be coming in through there. It is one of the only penetrable entry points left in their town. Two guards are supposed to be monitoring that soft spot, but they have not had contact with them for nearly a half hour. They’ve probably fallen asleep. These people don’t have experience with military tactics or guarding a town. Cory knows that one of them used to be a pharmaceutical sales rep, not exactly the harbinger of death they need in town on night duty.

He sighs long and hard, bored out of his mind before picking up his binoculars and scanning the area again. From his position, he can view the entry gate to their town, many homes, a small shopping plaza and what used to be the veterinary clinic. It reminds him of Jason, the vet’s nephew who had led Paige on and upset her by making out with Jackie, his own ex-lover in the basement of the barn during Talia and Chet’s wedding reception. He’d still like to get a piece of that guy for hurting her feelings. He never really liked him anyway. The dude was an arrogant, cocky girly boy who had never suffered a hard day’s labor his whole life. He doesn’t help out much in town, either, but Jackie seems to like him. She even told him earlier tonight when he’d checked in with her group that she and her son are moving in with Jason.

He’s a fool in Cory’s opinion to trade Paige for Jackie. There’s absolutely no comparison. Jackie is kind and sweet, but she is no match intellectually for a woman like Paige, who challenges him at every turn.

“What the…fuck?” he says softly to himself as he spies a person trying the front door to the veterinary clinic. The person, like him, is dressed in dark, concealing clothing and has a black toboggan pulled down low over his forehead to hide his identity.

The man goes around to the side of the building and tries a window. This time, he’s hit a lucky streak, and it raises with little effort. He hefts himself through and disappears from Cory’s line of sight.

“Professor,” he whispers into his radio.

“Go ahead,” Simon returns.

“Got a nefarious person breaking into the vet’s clinic,” he says, using Simon’s big word from earlier. He almost chuckles, too, but is too entranced with watching the area below waiting for the cat burglar to reemerge from the doctor’s building. “I’m going in.”

“Be there in ten,” Simon tells him and breaks their connection.

He knows it will take his friend longer than ten minutes to travel from the other side of town on foot. Cory doesn’t have time to wait for Simon, nor does he need to. This thief has no idea that Cory spent nearly a year doing exactly this, catching thieves, rapists, and murderers and raining the correct punishment down upon them.

He runs quickly across the rooftop to the fire escape located on the opposite side of the building. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Cory swiftly climbs down the metal ladder and slides down the last ten stairs using his hands. It’s a good thing he’s wearing leather gloves. Picking metal shavings out of his hands doesn’t sound like a fun way to top off the night. Once his feet hit the ground, Cory pulls his .45 out of his hip holster and flicks off the safety. He doesn’t want to have to shoot the thief, but he also isn’t letting the guy go. The people in town already harbor a certain amount of fear toward him, so he’d like to show them that he’s not just a cold-blooded killer. Putting up a front of being a nice guy is better for family relations with the townspeople. He’s seen the looks that many of them give him. Fear is a hard thing to conceal.

He jogs to the front of the building and makes a fast crossing toward the vet’s clinic. There are no other sounds other than the light slapping of his boots against the pavement and the unlabored chuffing of his breath in time with his step.

Immediately, his first instinct is to follow the perp through the same window, but Cory thinks twice in case the guy is in that room and armed. It would be easy to get his head blown off with a pump action shotgun in this situation. He walks fast to the rear of the sizable brick building, listening for sounds, looking for the faint glow of a flashlight. Not hearing movement, Cory eases open the rear door, which he finds unlocked. Moving quietly inside and careful not to let the door slam behind him, he removes his night-vision gear and flicks on a pen light instead. He is not at all familiar with the interior layout of this building. He wonders how familiar the thief might be with the building, if at all.

A shuffling sound at the other end of the hall, followed by something falling and clanking metal against the floor alerts him. He clicks off his little flashlight. No sense in lighting himself up to make an easy target. He presses his back against the wall and moves forward again. The person is in a room off to the left at the end of the hall. It sounds like he’s rifling through drawers.

Suddenly a whoosh of air behind him is followed by an incredible amount of pain to his back and neck. And then he’s down, disoriented, sprawled on the ground. He’s been flanked. Cory lifts his head in time to see a flash of movement. It’s not the same man he saw come into the building. This man is wearing a red jacket. He can hear yelling from the other end of the hall as he rolls to his side bringing up his .45 as he does so. As his assailant is making his escape, running as fast as he can while tripping over debris in the hallway, Cory is able to bark off two rounds. A man’s howl of agony echoes through the narrow passage. He’s hit him. He isn’t sure if just one round connected or both. Cory’s vision blurs for a moment, but he is able to see his assailant join up with the thief and run toward the front entrance. They both look like they are wearing dark stocking caps or ski masks. He manages to get to his knees as Simon comes in behind him.

“Cory!” his friend shouts in a panic.

“Go!” he yells, shoving away the piece of lumber that was used to strike him. “They went out the front. I’m fine.”

Simon runs past him, also trips on debris but stays up and keeps going. Cory gets to his feet and staggers against the wall for a brief second before joining the race. Before long, he is running down the middle of the street following Simon. He’s out for blood.

“Split up!” Simon shouts and divides from him, chasing along a side street.

Cory jogs in the other direction, hoping they’ll eventually flank their enemy. This is bullshit. He’d been careless. Or had he? There’s no way that someone sneaked up behind him. He was careful, meticulous in his procedure. He runs into Roy and another town person who are on night watch and relays the situation. They are quick to join the search. He circles back around and checks the veterinarian clinic again and then runs down the street to check the McClane medical clinic to make sure they aren’t just hitting them up for medical supplies. He meets back up with Simon, but they are unable to catch the thief and his assistant in the red coat.

“Fuck!” Cory yells to the empty night air.

Simon is panting lightly from their arduous run. “You ok?”

“Yes, damn it,” Cory says. “Fucker came up behind me and hit me with a two-by-four.”

Simon shakes his head in disbelief. “Impossible.”

“That’s what I thought,” Cory agrees. “Asshole probably stole the wood from our wall site. Who the hell were they?”

“Definitely found our thieves,” his friend says.

“Right,” Cory nods as Roy and the other member of his watch team arrive. “Anything?”

“No, man,” Roy replies with disappointment. “Sorry.”

“Damn,” Cory spouts with frustration as the first streaks of dawn light up the sky. “I think I tagged one of them, maybe in the thigh. Not sure. There should be a blood trail. Once the sun comes up, I’ll track him. He isn’t going to be able to run far on a thigh wound.”

“I’m going to make another trip around the perimeter,” Roy tells them.

“I’ll go with you,” Simon suggests.

Cory says, “I’m going to the garage to check on your sister.”

“Right,” Simon says with a nod. “I can go. We should make sure she’s ok since these men are running around our town.”

“I’ll go,” Cory says again. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure she’s fine, and we left her with an extra magazine.”

“You get Paige,” Simon orders. “I’ll go get our horses.”

“Paige can stay with someone while we track ‘em,” Cory says, getting a nod from his friend, who immediately takes off.

Cory jogs to the mechanic’s shop and approaches cautiously, checking out the area and making sure that he isn’t being followed by the club-wielding asshole. Then he lets himself in through the back door. The rays of the sun shining through the dirty, fogged up windows rest on Paige’s red hair, lighting it up like fire. Her skin glows under its soft caress. Cory closes and locks the door behind him so that he doesn’t get clubbed over the head again. He stands over her a moment before kneeling. Cory brushes her hair back from her warm cheek. He could watch her sleep all day, but he knows that more important matters are pressing in on them.

“Rise and shine, sleepy head,” he whispers and continues to stroke her cheek, then her jawline until her eyes slowly pry open. “Hey, gorgeous.”

She frowns at him. Then she startles and looks around. “Where…?”

“In the garage. Remember?”

“Um… yes, I remember,” she says with a gentle smile.

“Get some sleep?” he asks, mostly because he doesn’t want to leave her. This is so much better than chasing down assholes.

“Yeah,” she whispers groggily. “Where’s Simon?”

“We’re still working on catching the thief,” Cory says and traces her right eyebrow. She doesn’t swat his hand away. She’s much more amiable first thing in the morning. Unfortunately, Paige swings her legs toward him and comes to a sitting position. She rubs her forehead and tries to smooth her unkempt hair. She looks just fine to Cory all rumpled and sleepy, less grouchy and off-putting. It’s about the worst luck ever that he has to rush her so that he can track the thieves.

“What time is it?” she asks.

The small fire he’d started a few hours ago has burned down to just gray embers in the bottom of the small wood-burning stove in the corner. That coupled with the sleeping bag and blanket from the the metal locker should’ve kept her warm.

“Almost six,” he answers. “I need you to grab your gear. We have to leave.”

“Where are we going?” she asks and takes her boots from his outstretched hand.

“We caught the thief in the middle of robbing the vet’s clinic. Your ex, Jason’s uncle’s clinic.”

She frowns at him for the reference to Jason. Cory smirks and stows the blankets away.

“What happened? Did you kill him?”

“It was more than one,” he says. “Got myself clubbed over the back of my head like some sort of amateur.”

“What? Oh geez,” she says with worry. “Are you all right, Cory?”

“Yep, fine,” he says, tapping his skull. “Got a hard head. I’m fine.”

“What happened after that?”

“They got away…”

“They?” she repeats.

He sighs and hands Paige her backpack, even helps her get it situated comfortably on her back.

“Yeah, there were two of them,” he answers her. “Come on. I need to leave you with Jackie and…”

“Wait, what?” she asks and pulls back. “I’m not staying with your girlfriend.”

“I think we both know she’s no longer involved with me,” he says impatiently. “Come, Paige. We have to get going. I left Simon and need to catch up with him. I shot the one guy in the leg I think. We’re gonna track him.”

“That sounds dangerous,” she worries.

“Let’s go,” he says and leads her from the garage.

“I’m not staying at Jackie’s.”

“Fine, you can stay at the medical house. At least a few of Dave’s men are still there,” he says, referring to the spacious old home across the street from their clinic.

“Fine,” she pouts and follows after him.

When they meet with Simon and Roy, Paige hugs her brother, who returns it affectionately. The sun has risen completely, which will make tracking their thieves a whole lot easier.

“We’ve got a new problem,” Simon alerts them.

“What?” Cory asks.

His friend sighs and says, “They stole our horses.”

“Motherf…” he cuts off his own swear. Hitting him over the head was bullshit. Stealing the stallion is going to get them dead in a bad way.

“I’m coming with you,” Paige says. “It’ll be better with all three of us searching.”

“Good,” Simon says with a nod, pissing Cory off. He doesn’t miss the defiant smirk that Paige gives him.

Roy agrees to stay in town and search. He tells them that he’ll radio it in if he sees anything. He’s also going to conduct a search from house to house with his friend to see if any of the townspeople happened to notice anything at that time of night. Cory leads Simon and Paige back to the veterinary clinic and starts a proper tracking search. It’s not difficult to do. He definitely tagged the guy in an artery because there is an easy blood trail to follow. It leads straight into the woods, as he’d suspected it would. The creeps climbed the perimeter fence and fled on foot. He takes Simon and Paige the same route and finds the spot where the horses were hidden, obviously not well. It’s not the first time they’ve had horses stolen. They always get them back, and it doesn’t end well for the ones who do it. This also isn’t going to end well for these thieves; they just don’t know it yet.

“This is where we had the horses tied,” Simon reminds them as they draw near.

“He’s bleeding bad, probably bleeding out,” Cory tells them, pointing to a particularly wide puddle where he must’ve stood while untying and mounting a horse, Cory’s stallion.

He heads over a hill nearby, still finding spots of dark red on the crisp, fall leaves. The bark of an oak tree is smeared with it. They walk further into the forest, and Cory finds more blood. Another big blotch is covering a patch of dead grass and dried leaves. Cory squats to get a better look. Simon stands over him and scans the area through his rifle scope.

“They stopped,” he says. “Wait, I don’t think that’s what this indicates. I think… I think he got dumped by one of the horses.”

“Good,” Simon comments.

“The trail leads off over here and then…” Cory says, looking around on the trees and ground for more signs of movement or disturbed nature.

“This is where they stopped,” Simon says.

“Where’d they go?” Paige asks.

A snorting comes from the forest and blasts through the trees and underbrush with a malevolent force. His stallion has found him.

“Easy, easy, boy,” Cory says, snatching the reins and patting his neck.

“That answers the question of how the blood spill is on the ground there,” Simon says with humor.

“There’s a saying that there’s only one rider for every horse,” Cory remarks angrily. “That punk bitch is not Jett’s rider.”

“What do we do from here?” Paige asks.

“Looks like they paired up and road together after he got dumped,” Cory says.

Simon moves quickly down the hill and out of the woods to an open meadow. Cory catches up to his friend, and they spread out so as not to cluster and make shooting all three of them easier if their enemy is hiding in the forest. There are deep ruts from Simon’s horse’s hooves in the ground, broken branches, crushed leaves. Tracking someone on horseback isn’t usually difficult. They walk a while longer until Cory spots something red in a ditch.

“Stay here,” Cory tells her, handing her Jett’s reins. She doesn’t seem confident in her ability to control the beast. Simon follows him, though. It’s the man’s body, likely the one he shot.

“I guess that was an arterial wound,” he remarks without feeling. Paige has turned away from them but is still holding the reins of his stallion for him. “Nice friend. He dumped him here to finish bleeding out.”

“Yes, it would seem so. Femoral artery, difficult to repair even in perfect circumstances,” Simon remarks.

“Take Jett,” Cory tells him. “Take Paige and get her back to the farm. This situation just got a lot more dangerous, too dangerous for your sister.”

“I agree,” his friend says before readjusting his rifle sling.

“If these fuckers know who we are and that I was the one who killed him, they’ll want revenge. They’ll be coming after us, after me, and I don’t want her in harm’s way because of something I did.”

“Neither do I,” Simon agrees as they climb out of the ditch. “They may know the whole family already. It’s hard telling. But I think you are right, Cory. They may want to avenge their dead comrade.”

Cory nods. “Just get her outta’ here. I’m not done tracking his friend. I’d like to take him out before he reaches whatever base camp they’re from. He could regroup, come back, follow us back to the farm. It’s not good. This shit storm just turned into a fuckin’ tsunami.”

“Eloquent,” Paige comments with sass.

“We should take his body to town and see if anyone recognizes him,” Simon suggests.

“That’s smart, brother,” Cory says. “I’ll handle it.”

“We can help,” Paige offers.

Cory smiles at her and says, “Go back to the farm with Simon. I’ll be home later.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here to look for this guy by yourself. That’s not smart,” she adds.

“Just go. I’ll be fine,” he tells her. “You’re just a distraction. I work better alone.”

She harrumphs at him as Simon takes the reins and swings up onto the stallion. He’s an expert horseman, but Jett can sometimes be a handful. A good example of that would be the dead dude in the ditch. He tightens the reins, gaining control of the stallion. Cory gives Paige a leg-up so that she can ride behind her brother.

“I’ll be home later,” he tells his friend and pats the stallion’s thick, muscular neck.

“How are you going to get there?” Paige asks nervously.

“That’s why God gave me two feet instead of one,” he teases and gets an angry scowl from her for the sarcasm.

“We could come back for you in the truck,” she offers with a little frown line of worry between her brows.

“Can’t afford the gas,” he tells her. “I’ll hoof it. The farm’s not that far.”

“Careful out there,” Simon warns. “Call it in if you need us.”

Cory laughs confidently and says, “Won’t need to.”

He watches Simon ride away on his horse with Paige, going back the way they came which will put them in less danger of running into their escaped thief. He’s glad to see them leaving. Cory double times it, picks up the pace and sprints through the forest tracking the other rider. With the rain that came yesterday, it’s not too difficult. The blood trail is gone, having ended with his dead friend, who he must’ve really cared about to have dumped in a ditch. He eventually ends up back near the edge of town where the trail runs cold. It pisses him off. This person has tactical experience and has covered his tracks well. There is no discernible trace of him left. Cory has a feeling the dude left Simon’s horse at this point and fled the rest of the way on foot to wherever he was going. Simon’s mare is standing near the perimeter fence to their town just grazing. She comes right to him when he coos to her softly. They’re usually pretty good at finding people or their way back home, especially horses as domesticated as the McClane herd. She may have thrown her rider, too. That’s always a possibility. Or maybe the jackoff doesn’t know much about riding and fell of his own accord. Either way, he’s not surprised he found the mare near town.

He heads back to the dead man in the ditch and hefts him onto the back of the mare. He wants to know if anyone in town knows this ass-hat. If they do, it’ll lead him right to the other one. For now, his partner has slipped Cory. For now.

CHAPTER TEN

Reagan

“The next time you guys make a run somewhere, check vitamin shops, health food stores and pharmacies,” Reagan tells Simon. “With so many pregnant women in Dave’s town, they really should be taking prenatal vitamins. Hell, just search for folic acid. They’re gonna need all the help they can get.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says while looking through the lens of the microscope.

They’re in the shed doing research. She’s trying to cram in as much obstetrics studies with Simon as she can before the impending births. Their latest count is eight pregnant women, but she knows the number could go up. And that’s not counting the three women in their own community that they’ve been treating for pregnancy. A few days ago, she tended Cory for the lump on his skull. She was worried that it would be a concussion, but he got lucky. She informed him that it was one of the only times it was good to have a thick skull, which Paige confirmed with a Neanderthal comment. However, she had hung around the shed until Reagan had thoroughly checked him over. Paige had also paced around the big house until he arrived home to the farm safely.

“We’ll start on pediatrics next,” she tells him. “You’ve been great with that so far treating so many of the little kids in town at our clinic, but there are bound to be complications with these pregnancies. Not to mention, preemies and babies are a lot different than treating a ten-year-old kid with a broken collar bone. Hell, the rampant v.d. that many of them have will undoubtedly complicate the pregnancy and the babies exponentially. Doctors used to swipe every newborn baby’s eyes with erythromycin antibiotic cream to prevent the spread of gonorrhea.”

“How’s that?” he asks, turning away from the microscope for a second.

“Some venereal diseases can pass to the baby during birth. They can be devastatingly difficult to treat. Hopefully, we’ll get them all well enough before the big day.”

“Yes, let us hope,” he says. “I feel terrible about their circumstance.”

Reagan smiles at his serious tone, his formal manners. He’s always like this, so calm and stoic all the time. He’s a lot like her grandfather.

“I think we should plan a trip to Cincinnati,” he suggests. “John and I have been talking about it. There was bound to be a pharmacy on every darn street corner and in all the little suburbs around there. We talked to Cory about it, and he said he mostly whizzed through there. He said it was a ghost town, but there have to be pharmacies that people didn’t hit yet.”

Reagan frowns. That’s far from home and would be extremely dangerous.

“Maybe,” she says quietly.

“It’s worth a shot,” he says. “John said maybe some of Dave’s men could go with us, take one of their big army trucks. Then we could zip up there and back faster.”

“If you came back,” she corrects with a scowl.

Simon looks directly at her and tries to offer a hopeful grin that comes off as crooked and worried. “It could work. We’d be safe, especially with the extra help. Plus, since we’re treating Dave’s community with our medical supplies, combining our efforts would make sense.”

“That’s true enough,” she says with a nod.

Reagan thinks about it quietly for a while as Simon drones on about how great Dave and his men were the night of the sex camp raid. She’s not as confident as her young protégé that it would work, and everything would turn out hunky dory, and everyone would come home safely. She sure as shit doesn’t want John to go. To change the topic, Reagan gets Simon refocused on looking at and comparing slides of microbes and discussing the treatment of women with hypertension brought on by pregnancy.

“Simon,” she says, gaining his full attention. “Have you noticed anything about Sam… anything unusual?”

His eyes dart away, and he looks at his feet for a second before shaking his head. He’s lying, and he’s even worse at it than her.

“I have,” she offers. “She’s been sullen, withdrawn. I know about her drawings.”

“You do?” he asks, looking directly at her again.

“Yes, I’ve seen them. I saw her working on one the other day in the barn. I asked her for help catching one of the horses out in the field just so I could look at her sketch pad when she left. It was… disturbing, to say the least.”

“Yes,” he admits and turns back to the microscope. “I know. I’ve seen them, too.”

“What are we gonna do? I wish I would’ve studied post-traumatic syndrome a lot more thoroughly. Or that I had access to medical books.”

“We do,” he says. “We’ve got your grandfather’s study full of books.”

“There’s just not enough there on this to help. He wasn’t a clinical psychologist. That’s what we need. We need a shrink, a genuine head shrinker,” she attempts a joke.

“Who doesn’t?” he teases back. “Don’t worry about Sam. I’m going to take her tomorrow to visit her family’s home. I think it’ll help.”

“But you’ll miss all the Black Friday sales,” she jokes since today is Thanksgiving. Her sisters are preparing an enormous feast for everyone from the two turkeys that Lucas and Huntley shot yesterday out in the forest. Huntley could not have been more aptly named because the kid loves and excels at hunting. Her new stepbrother is apparently also a good shot. It doesn’t surprise her. The Colonel was probably preparing him to follow in his big, military-political footsteps.

“Shoot,” he says, snapping his fingers. “And I wanted a new laptop.”

Reagan offers a smile and goes back to her work. Then she adds, “Maybe if she had a boyfriend.”

She’s only suggesting it not because she means it, but to see his reaction, which is exactly what she’d thought it would be. There is an instant anger in his blue eyes. His cheeks burn from it.

“No, that is exactly what Samantha doesn’t need right now,” he retorts.

“Or a baby,” Reagan suggests with a smile. “Kids are a great distraction from our own problems. Taking care of something that needs round the clock care and love can be a good diversion.”

He scoffs and says, “That’s ridiculous. I think that’s what people used to do to save their failing marriages.”

“You watch too many soap operas,” she further teases.

“Children are not therapeutic,” he insists, correcting her. “It would just be one more burden on her right now, and she certainly doesn’t need any more of those. We’ll get her a puppy.”

“She is an adult, Simon,” she corrects him. “Sam is a loving person, nurturing, sweet. She’s going to want to have kids someday.”

“Well, that’s not today…”

“What are you both working on?” her father asks from the open doorway to the building, startling them.

Reagan frowns and sighs hard.

“I’ll just go and help with evening chores,” Simon blurts and rushes from the room.

Her father leans heavily on his cane and comes closer until he finds a chair where he perches on the edge, his posture stick straight, although she can tell it is painful for him to remain so. Reagan just finds herself wishing he’d leave the shed.

“Feeling better?” she asks, mostly because she feels obligated.

She hasn’t been helping Grandpa with her father’s care, but he has kept her apprised of Robert’s situation and the status of his health. It hasn’t been good, but yesterday he informed her that the fevers finally stopped and that he was sitting up and finally requesting solid food. He has lost even more weight since first arriving at the farm nearly a month ago, and Reagan guesses that he must be down to around one-eighty, a good forty pounds less than his normal weight.

“Much better, thank you,” he answers. “What are you studying?”

“Venereal diseases mostly,” she answers and turns back to her work. It’s not entirely accurate. They’ve been studying his disease and other plagues, as well, but she wants to make him uncomfortable, hopefully enough that he’ll leave.

“Why would you need to study venereal diseases?” he asks with genuine curiosity.

“We rescued a group of women from a sex slave camp down on the river in Nashville. Many of them are sick, very sick, actually.”

“A sex slave camp?” he asks with disbelief. “That’s incredible, unbelievable really.”

“Yeah, well, not everyone has had the luxury of living in a safe, secure bunker for the last four years, Robert.”

She doesn’t miss the twitch of his left eye when she uses his name. Reagan doesn’t particularly care if he minds. She’s certainly not calling him “daddy.”

“It was hardly a luxury, Reagan,” he says.

“Are you ever going to tell us why you came here? The stories we’ve heard don’t exactly make anyone want to throw you a coming home parade.”

“I’m hoping to make some things more clear for everyone tonight after dinner,” he explains.

“Why…”

“How did you get that scar on your cheek?” he asks, interrupting Reagan from further questioning him.

It catches her off guard, and she self-consciously touches her scar and then pulls a chunk of curls over it. It’s been a while since she’s thought about it. She really doesn’t even care to explain it to a man who has had nothing to do with her in years. It’s none of his damn business.

“Did it happen since the country fell? Is that it?” he asks.

“Yes, it did,” she answers curtly. “Why do you care?”

He stands again and approaches her slowly, which seems to be his only speed. Unfortunately, he comes too close and even attempts to touch her cheek. Reagan flinches and leans back out of his reach.

“Don’t,” she warns. “I don’t… like being touched.”

He frowns hard and nods slowly. “I… I’m sorry. You didn’t used to be this way. Were you raped?”

“No,” she says and turns away from him to go to another counter.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

Reagan sighs long and loud with exaggerated drama and says, “Why do you care, Robert? You haven’t…”

“I do care. I care a lot more than you think. Just because I wasn’t here, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. You’re still my daughter, Reagan. I love you just as much as I love Gretchen.”

This cuts hard. She doesn’t want to hear any of this kind of shit from him. An absentee father is better than one who is present and lying.

“I was attacked, ok? Two assholes attacked me at college, but I killed them both and was able to escape home to the farm,” she blurts, hoping if she tells him that he’ll finally leave her to do her work. She’s actually compounding turmeric. It is one herb that has been difficult for Grandpa and Simon to grow. They’ve needed a lot of assistance from Sue. It’s great for healing wounds, although it does sting like hell when applied directly. It also has known benefits of lowering blood sugar, which is about all they can do for their diabetic patients now. People with type one diabetes have perished due to lack of insulin shots and meds, but for patients with type two, they’ve been having luck with compounding natural treatments by using the herb gymnea mixed with cinnamon and turmeric. It isn’t full proof, but it’s better than their patients going into a diabetic coma.

“What happened?” her father presses.

Reagan sighs, wishing he’d leave. He makes the mistake of trying to touch her arm again. She shrugs away his hand and answers, “At college. The first day the tsunamis hit.”

“You were still in Ohio? Why hadn’t you come home to the farm? I called your grandfather and told him to get in contact with you. I told him to tell you to come home to the farm.”

“He did,” Reagan answers. “But I wanted to finish my studies. I thought it would all blow over, that the United States wouldn’t be affected.”

“Reagan…” he says with his usual show of exasperation for her. “Why…”

Robert doesn’t even finish because he probably realizes that trying to answer this question would be pointless now. What’s been done is done. The past is just that, the past, and there’s nothing that any of them can do to change it. Nobody, in reality, gets a rewrite.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he says quietly. “I should’ve been here.”

Reagan chuffs and turns back to her work. “Being here for Hannie and your parents would’ve been more important. But you weren’t, and that’s not really much of a surprise, Robert.”

Reagan purposely uses his given name again, knowing how much it always pissed him off.

“I know,” he acknowledges. “But I couldn’t leave Lucy and the kids to fend for themselves, either. She isn’t like us. She wasn’t raised on a farm with hunting and survival skills. She didn’t even know how to shoot. She really still doesn’t. The kids are well acquainted with guns, but not Lucy. She grew up sheltered.”

“Sheltered?” she asks with growing curiosity.

He sighs and continues, “Yes, she came from a very wealthy family. But she was raised a Mormon and attended Brigham Young. Her father was a minister and didn’t believe in violence or guns. He was very strict.”

“Did he also have two wives? Is that why she was so comfortable with the idea?” Reagan says, hoping to slice into a piece of his cold heart with her words.

He just shakes his head. “No, her father was a very religious man. She wasn’t even allowed to date, not even in college. I couldn’t have left her in another state to fend for herself and Gretchen. They would’ve been victims and quickly, no doubt.”

“Well, then I guess you got your priorities straight and went home to look after your new family.”

“There’s a lot you don’t understand, Reagan,” he says.

“I’m not interested in your lame ass excuses and pathetic explanations,” she says tensely.

“Your mother knew about Lucy,” he drops like a bomb.

Reagan’s gaze hits his with a ferocity that should knock him on his ass. “What are you talking about?”

“She knew that we were… acquaintances,” he explains.

“Fuck buddies.”

His jawline tightens, but he answers patiently, “I’ll ask that you not speak of her that way. Your mother knew about her. She was supportive of the relationship. We both knew she was terminal. There wasn’t anything we could do to save her. If there were, I’d still be married to her today. She was…my friend. Your mother and I were always better friends than husband and wife.”

Reagan levels him with a stare that should make him shrivel. “She may have been your friend, but she was my mother. She may not have been the love of your life, but she was exactly that for me and Sue and Hannie. She was our everything, and you disrespected her to the very end by taking on this other relationship.”

“You make everything sound so simple, young lady,” he says. “But in real life, it’s not always that way. Sometimes people fall out of love. Sometimes the ones we love get sick. Sometimes we find someone else. It just doesn’t happen that it all fits into your perfect picture of what marriage is supposed to look like.”

“Are you trying to convince me… or mitigate yourself of your own guilt for leaving your wife for another woman?”

“I didn’t leave your mother.”

Reagan snorts, “Yeah, well ya’ weren’t around much either, bub.”

Robert looks off into the distance and nods. “She wanted to stay together for you girls. So did I.”

“But you weren’t just with us. You had already started another family with another woman.”

He doesn’t try to defend himself but nods again and hobbles from the shed. And Reagan doesn’t try to stop him, either. She’s glad he’s gone. She turns back to her work, makes a few notes for Simon to study later, and takes down a book on medicinal cures from the shelf above her. It’s not her first choice, using herbs and natural, homeopathic medicine, but for now, it’s her only option. She can’t concentrate because her father’s words keep running through her mind like a hamster on his wheel. She throws her pen onto the table top, causing it to clank around until it hits the floor.

“Hey, Mama,” Jacob says a short time later.

Reagan spins on her stool with a smile at his small voice that beckons her in like a moth to an open flame. John is with him, which ignites a different desire in her stomach.

“What are you two hooligans up to?” she teases.

“Grandpa says that Angus is gonna have a baby tonight!” he exclaims with childish delight.

“Yeah, I thought she might,” Reagan remarks as her son climbs up onto her lap and plops down heavily, heedless, of course, of injuring her. She’d take a broken leg over the lack of her son sitting on her lap. She’s quite sure this stage doesn’t last much longer. Justin certainly never cuddles with Sue anymore. “What are you kids going to name the baby?”

Their names never fail to amuse her. Angus, which would typically denote the breed or a good quality steak, was given a few years ago to a heifer. They’ve bred her back to a Hereford over at the Johnson’s.

“Hm… I think Lucas said we should name it T-bone,” he says with utmost gravity.

“Good name,” she says with a nod and a grin at John, who also smiles warmly. “Have you guys been hanging out with Lucas?”

“Yeah, he’s cool,” Jacob says. “He doesn’t know very much about farm stuff, but he’s smart about other stuff.”

This makes her frown for more than one reason. She doesn’t like it when he talks like an adult or at least like the teenagers, and Reagan also doesn’t like the idea of Robert’s family making permanent connections with her family. She’s been secretly hoping that her father would move into town with his new family.

“Like what? What’s he smart about?” Reagan asks as John leads her from the shed and locks the door behind them.

“He used to play these things called video games,” he says. “I don’t know what those are, but Justin did and so did Huntley, so they must be cool.”

“That’s not exactly an important skill anymore, kiddo,” she tells her son. “And don’t worry, Jake, you aren’t missing anything. Video games were a time suck. You’re a smart boy. You don’t need things like that to pass your time. You can read books and climb trees and shoot guns with Daddy.”

John interrupts to say, “He was also saying that he was focusing his studies on stem cell research with an emphasis on DNA.”

Reagan nods and replies, “Now that is more interesting.”

John chuckles and wraps an arm around her shoulders. There is a low murmur of thunder in the distance. More rain, which means more cold rain, leaves her feeling blue. She shudders and pulls in closer to her husband, stealing some of his warmth.

“The girls have cooked a feast,” John tells her.

“Sounds great,” she says and smiles up into his blue eyes before he steals a kiss.

“Gross!” Jacob yells obnoxiously and runs away, catching up to Arianna and Justin instead.

They both laugh at their son’s expense. John holds open the door for her, and they walk into the madness that is their family. Her senses are assaulted by the aromas coming from the kitchen, the laughter of the children, and the sight of her sisters pulling dinner together in a frenzy of activity. There is an additional dining table in the music room and set for the younger kids and teens. Reagan sees her father’s new wife placing silverware on that table as she goes into the mudroom to clean up. When they are all finally seated, Reagan is disappointed to see that her father and his wife are at their table and the four young adults of Cory, Sam, Simon and Paige have been moved to the kids’ room. Grace is said by Grandpa, and they begin.

“We should all say something we’re thankful for,” Sue suggests.

“This meal, sweetheart,” Derek says and places a kiss on his wife’s cheek.

“I’m thankful for my family,” Sue returns with a kiss of her own to Derek’s closed mouth.

Each of them takes a turn expressing their feelings of gratitude, but when it comes around to Robert, he makes the mistake of irritating Reagan again.

“I’m thankful that we made it home to my family’s farm. I’m just thankful to be home with my girls. And you, as well, Dad.”

Reagan snorts. She can’t help it. She’d rather he just wouldn’t have come to the house for dinner, not today, not on Thanksgiving. Since he is sitting across the table from her, she can see the dark red splotches on his skin where his setback with the disease has taken yet another toll on his body. Although he is no longer fevering or infectious, her father still seems weak and pale.

“Pass the turkey, please,” Derek says to clear the air.

“Whether or not you choose to believe it, Reagan,” her father says, not deterred by Derek. “I am thankful.”

“I’m thankful for Reagan and Jacob,” John says, interrupting her father.

Her husband even places a hand over hers and then raises it to his lips where he presses a kiss there.

“The boss here makes me thankful every day,” he says with a grin.

Her father temporarily forgotten, Reagan returns his smile.

“And I’m grateful for this wonderful meal and your hospitality,” Lucy says.

“Thank you, Lucy,” Sue expresses as a gracious hostess.

Reagan notices that Hannah does not return the sentiment. She’s not sure if Hannie doesn’t like their father’s new wife, or if she just doesn’t like them being here. Reagan doesn’t know enough about Lucy to pass judgment, but she knows that the woman has terrible taste in men.

“I would’ve thought that you had better meals in your bunker,” Reagan says.

“Oh, no!” Lucy states. “Nothing like this.”

“What was it like there?” Kelly asks. “Did you have gardens?”

“Some, but it was mostly the community supplying the government with food,” she explains.

This form of socialism that they had established out there the family already knows about and has thoroughly discussed.

“Crops were important in keeping everyone alive, but so was hunting,” she says.

“Did you hunt?” John asks.

“No, no,” she answers meekly. “I’m not good with guns or a bow and arrow. I do enjoy cooking, but not hunting for the meat to go in the pot. I worked in the kitchens. I liked it. I also sewed quite a bit. Plus we all had jobs. It was a lot of work keeping it all going.”

“Sounds like you were mooching off of the community,” Reagan remarks. Her mashed potatoes have gotten cold, so she pushes them around on her plate. Her appetite was ruined the minute she knew Robert was joining them anyway.

“You don’t understand,” her father corrects her. “The government offered the protection of the military. We were busy, Reagan. We didn’t have time to plant crops and farm.”

“Busy doing what?” Grandpa asks.

“Rebuilding a foundation for a new government. There were people to appoint, positions to fill, a constitution to write…”

“What?” John asks beside her. His voice is irritated and tense. “What do you mean by that? Our old constitution was just fine. There isn’t anything left to govern anyway, so why were you all so worried about creating a new government already?”

“Let’s not ruin dinner by talking politics,” Grandpa interjects. “After our meal, Robert has volunteered to give us an idea of what’s been going on out there. Let’s just finish this lovely dinner.”

Reagan can tell by the rigid posture of her husband that his feathers have been thoroughly ruffled. He isn’t angry with Grandpa; he could never be, but he doesn’t like anyone messing with their constitution. Neither does she. If their forefathers were still around four years ago, the world wouldn’t have gone to shit like it had. They were so much smarter than the morons who were in charge when it did fall apart. She slathers homemade butter on her dinner roll and frowns at her father.

“Grandpa,” Hannah says. “You didn’t tell us what you’re thankful for.”

“The same as I always am, Hannah dear,” he says. “Good food, a place to lay my head at night, protection provided by our soldiers, and my family. That’s all I need. It’s all any of us needs.”

Reagan doesn’t miss the pointed look he sends his son before resuming his meal. Hannah and Sue have even made apple and pumpkin pies. They have nearly run out of cinnamon, but Sue grows a basil in her greenhouse that is cinnamon flavored. It’s a great substitute. The house smelled like pies and melting sugar baking last night, and she’d been excited to have a slice today. However, she passes on the pie and drinks a cup of hot tea instead. It’s going to be a long night.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Paige

It’s the first Thanksgiving dinner she’s had since she left home for college. It reminds her of her mother and her cooking, which leaves her feeling a tad melancholy. She eats more than she should and ends up being bloated and too full, and Paige doesn’t care because it makes her feel closer to her roots, her dead parents and her American heritage. The little kids just seem overjoyed like they usually are, and maybe just slightly more so because they get to have some of the grown-ups sitting at their table for a change. Paige, most of the time, doesn’t feel so much like an adult, but she’s happy to mentor to them. G and her brother Lucas also seem in awe of the plentiful and hearty meal.

After dinner, a meeting is called in Doc’s office, but first, the kids must clean up the dinner mess and the little ones need to be put to bed. It will be at least a few hours before the meeting kicks off. She helps clear dishes and stow away leftovers. Everyone pitches in, so the works goes quickly, or as quickly as it can with so many people moving around the kitchen.

“Paige, would you put Mary down for the night for me, please?” Hannah asks her, laying her hand gently on her forearm.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Paige says. “I’m not sure what to do with her.”

“Same as you did with your little Maddie,” Hannah reminds her. “Mary just needs changed into her pajamas and tucked in. Just make sure you get her to use the potty. I would feel terrible if Kelly had to get up in the middle of the night to deal with that.”

“I heard that,” Kelly calls from the other room.

Hannah chuckles with ornery merriment. “I want to grab a fast shower before our meeting. I think I’m covered in flour from head to toe. Or I feel like I might be.”
Whizzing through the room quickly carrying a tray of Brussel sprouts, Sue says, “You always look great, Hannie. Even with that flour in your hair.”

They laugh and Paige nods, “Sure, I’ll put her down for the night.”

“She wants to sleep downstairs with the other kids. Sue’s are staying over.”

“Awesome!” Sue says from the other side of the kitchen. “Only one kid at home tonight? Not gonna argue with that.”

She’s referring to her toddler son, Isaac. Paige doesn’t know how they do it all. Super mom, master chefs, farmers? She can barely handle the stress of working out the architectural and structural dilemmas on the wall build in town.

“I’ll help,” she says again. “No problem.”

She takes Mary’s hand, who she finds in the music room playing under the temporary dinner table with a few other kids. The little angel is slowly but surely warming up to her. Her hand feels tiny in Paige’s, which reminds her of the many times that she’d taken Maddie’s hand to lead her somewhere when they lived on the road. She wonders how Thanksgiving dinner has gone over at the Reynolds’ farm.

They make a brief stop in the laundry room where Paige picks up Mary’s clothing before heading downstairs. It’s crowded with all of the kids getting ready for bed. The bathroom is especially full. She manages to wet a washcloth and clean Mary’s face. She rinses it and hands the rag to Arianna who takes it next. She helps Mary get her tiny teeth brushed with the same powder they all use that is made by a man in town and then carries the sleepy child to the kids’ room. There are double bunk beds in their room, two of which are already filled with Justin and Huntley. There is a curtain room divider so the girls can change in privacy, and she helps Mary into her white thermal pajamas with the pink strawberry pattern. Then she brushes her dark hair, what there is of it. Arianna bounds into the room, insists on sleeping in her sweatpants, although Paige is pretty sure that she wore them while playing outside earlier, and climbs into the low bunk. Mary wiggles in right in front of her cousin and presses her back to Ari’s front.

“All tucked in, girls?” she asks and earns big yawns and smiles. She pulls back the curtain and checks on the boys. She has no doubt they will all be asleep soon. They play so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t fall asleep standing up most days. She bids them a good night and leaves, closing the door and turning off the light. There’s no such thing as nightlights anymore. It’s black as pitch in the basement when the lights are off. She knows firsthand because it’s where she slept when she first came to the farm. As she walks down the hall, she hears giggling coming from the kids’ room. Perhaps they won’t fall asleep as fast as she’d thought. It makes her smile. She wonders what other children out there are doing tonight, whether or not they are hungry, cold, scared.

An arm shoots out of the next room, snaring hers and dragging her into the bedroom. She yelps loudly as she’s spun around and pushed against the door, causing it to close. It’s only Cory. He turns the lock and grins.

“Whatcha’ up to, Red?” he asks with a lascivious smile, exposing his white teeth.

“You scared me half to death, Cory!” she whispers vehemently. “I was tucking in the kids.”

“It wasn’t like I could ask you to come in here with me. You would’ve turned me down.”

“Ya’ don’t say,” she remarks irritably. “What do you want?”

Her answer comes fast and hard when his mouth swoops down onto hers. Paige gives in to it for the briefest of moments before she pulls away.

“Are you crazy?” she says fiercely. “Where’s my brother?”

This is their shared room. She tries not to let her eyes wander to Cory’s side where the bed is unmade, and clothes are strewn on the floor. He’s only wearing his jeans and must’ve come straight from the shower because his skin feels damp under her fingertips where they are resting against his chest.

“Checking on the mare in the barn with Doc and Reagan. She’s due any day now,” he tells her.

“Someone else could still see. This is nuts,” she says and is able to slip out of his grasp. “You’re supposed to be keeping your distance.”

A lock of his unruly, long wet hair falls over his forehead, so he sweeps it back. His baggy, torn jeans hang askew on his hips. His feet are bare, and his gaze heated. Cory is an enigma to her. He is certainly not the kind of man she ever would’ve thought herself capable of being attracted to, and yet, she is. And if she’s being honest with herself, she is very attracted to him, and her feelings are intensifying daily on the matter. This has to stop.

“I have been,” he argues and approaches. “I haven’t thrown you down in the front yard and torn off your clothes, have I?”

She can’t help the grin that escapes when he pours on the charm. “Is that your idea of showing restraint?”

He nods with the utmost seriousness.

“How’s your head? Have you been having headaches or anything?” she asks, still concerned about him being clubbed over the head while on the hunt for their town thief.

His grin turns to a scowl. She’s sure he must still be angry with himself for being caught in a trap. She can’t believe it happened, either, not after what she saw of his skills in the city.

“No, I’m fine,” he says. “Going to town again tomorrow night. We’ll catch him this time.”

“There were two the last time, Cory,” she rebuts. “Nobody in town recognized him when you showed them the dead man’s body. There could be more working with the one that got away. What then? What if you run into more trouble? What if there are five men this time?”

“Then I’ll handle it,” he answers easily.

Paige isn’t so convinced. She’s worried that her brother or Cory or someone else in the family will come to harm by pursuing this band of thieves. He was already struck with a piece of lumber in the back of his head. The next time, their thief could shoot him.

“I want to go, too,” she requests.

He closes in on her like a panther stalking its prey, slips an arm around her back and pulls her close.

“Not a chance, Red,” he says with too much confidence.

Paige glares at him right before he presses his mouth against hers again. A jiggling of the door handle startles her, causing her to jump back from him. Cory just laughs and unlocks the door. It’s her brother. He’s more startled than her. His eyes grow wide at the sight of Cory without his shirt. She’s sure her cheeks are burning.

“What the hell’s going on in here?” Simon demands with a quick temper of which she didn’t know him capable.

“Going over some things we didn’t want the kiddos to overhear, Professor,” Cory lies smoothly.

Simon stalks over to Cory’s side of the room, grabs a shirt off of his bed and throws it at him.

“Keep your clothes on and the door unlocked when you’re talking with my sister,” he demands and pulls Paige from the room, literally. He yanks her arm and drags her out into the hallway. He yells over his shoulder before forcing her toward the stairs. “And better yet, stay in the hall.”

Cory laughs loudly, probably loudly enough to wake the kids.

“Simon!” Paige exclaims. “Let me go. This is ridiculous. Stop dragging me. I’m an adult. Stop treating me like a child.”

“You’re my responsibility, Paige,” he says tightly.

When they get to the top of the staircase, he finally releases her. His blue eyes have darkened. They are also squinting at her.

“Seriously?” she asks.

“Yes, I am quite serious,” he says emphatically. “I don’t know what’s been going on between the two of you, but it stops now.”

“Nothing is going on,” she argues and feels like crap for lying to her brother. The night spent with Cory in the city had been a mind-blowing event, but she realizes now how big of a mistake it was. It should’ve never happened. She doesn’t want to come between her brother and his friend. She’s been trying to convince herself that she was only lonely, and that’s why she slept with him. She also doesn’t want to encourage Cory further. It was just a huge blunder in her typically good decision-making skills.

“Really?” he questions, a hand on his hip.

Paige squares up in front of him and places both hands on the sides of his shoulders. She tries not to flinch at the tenseness under her palms. “Really. We were just talking about you guys going to town again tomorrow night to look for the thief.”

“Yes, we must pursue the town thief. It has to stop. Nobody can take from us,” he says, instantly changing his demeanor of anger and suspicion to one of intense purpose.

“I get that, but I don’t want you to go. And if you must, then I want to go, too,” she pleads.

“No way,” he says. “We’re going at night. We’re not letting you tag along. Not again. That could’ve ended much differently, Paige. You could’ve been harmed.”

“No shit,” she swears softly so as not to be overheard by Hannah. It’s been a rather pleasant day. She’d like not to get swatted at by Hannie. “That’s exactly why I don’t want you to go.”

He sighs as if he finds her annoying and shakes his head. Then he simply turns and walks away. Cory jogs up the basement stairs, surprising her that they don’t crack under his weight. Her brother brushes past him, offering a shoulder shot on the way.

“Hallway,” Simon emphatically repeats and stalks off.

Cory waits until Simon is gone before he says, “That could’ve gone better.”

“Not funny,” she says as John walks by.

“Meeting’s starting in a few minutes, guys,” he says.

“Thanks, John,” Cory says to him.

“Everything ok, bro?” John asks.

Cory chuckles and says, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

John looks at her for a second before walking away with a nod. She feels as if she’s been put under some kind of microscope by the big Ranger.

“No more,” she whispers. “It stops now.”

“Let’s just tell him,” he suggests as if that idea makes any sense at all.

Paige feels like her eyes are going to pop out of her head. “What?” she hisses frantically.

“It would be easier.”

“No, it wouldn’t. It would be the exact opposite of easier. I don’t want anyone to know. Not anyone! This is it. This is over. It never started. Got it?”

“Sure,” he says with a smirk and a wink.

Paige growls and stomps off to Doc’s library. Everyone is crammed in. Some chairs from the dining room were brought in just for the meeting. Sam waves Paige over, so she sits by her friend. It’s better than sitting by Cory, who comes in a moment later and stands near the back of the room. He’s usually quiet during meetings anyway. Kelly is the last one in and takes a seat up front next to Hannah. Even Robert’s children G and Lucas are present. His wife is sitting with them in a corner. She looks nervous and is fidgeting as if she’d like to be somewhere else. G is casually chewing on a toothpick, but her brother looks like a ball of nerves like his mother. This is big. Something big is going to happen. Paige can feel the tension in the air. Everyone is expecting something from this meeting.

Doc sits behind his desk, and his son stands off to the side of it.

“Let’s get started, everyone,” Doc says. “It’s getting late, and Reagan and I are going out to the barn again tonight to check on the mare and one of the heifers. If Wayne Reynolds calls over, we’ll need to head to their farm, as well. They have their first mare ready to give birth any day now, and he isn’t too sure about her.”

“Yes, sir,” Robert says and leans on his cane more heavily.

To Paige, he still seems very ill. She hopes that Talia doesn’t pop over for a visit with Maddie anytime soon. There is no way that she has ever been vaccinated for any sicknesses because she was born a few months into the apocalypse.

“What can you tell us about this government coup, Robert?” Doc asks his son.

“The President and his staff have created a new colony, a new America in Colorado, just outside of the bunker. It’s not good,” he says and hangs his head slightly.

“Right, the citizens that survived,” Kelly says. “And the government is providing protection of the city for rations of food and supplies?”

“Yes, to an extent,” he explains. “It’s much more lopsided than that. They have eliminated people who they deem as no longer useful to the city…”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean? Killed people who weren’t productive?” Reagan interrupts.

“No, but banned them…which, as you all know so well, could be a death sentence,” he says. “If they were too old or sickly, the new government sends them away. They don’t kill them, but they also don’t harbor non-useful citizens.”

“Sounds like Russia or something,” John observes.

Robert nods and says, “In some ways. In other ways, it is effective, but it’s also cruel and callous. The power has gone to their heads. At first, it was a matter of not letting anyone into the city who was sick so that disease wouldn’t spread. That’s how the city came down with smallpox and before that the pneumonic plague and before that a deadly influenza strain. But lately, for about the past year, they won’t even let people in who aren’t going to be productive or useful members of the society they are trying to rebuild. They are weeding out the citizens who can’t contribute enough to the rise of the new empire.”

“This is some bizarre shit,” Reagan says and shoots her father a disbelieving expression.

“It’s happened many times throughout history, Reagan,” Robert says patiently.

“And you were one of the few that stood up to them, I assume?” Derek asks.

“Not at first. I went along with the medical quarantine because of what happened to me and the others with smallpox. I knew it was right to segregate out the sick to keep the healthy alive. We established a medical community. There was another town about ten miles from the main city where we established a sick bay, if you will. It was mostly tents, a few run-down buildings, the best we could manage. Some of us doctors or nurses would go over there or stay there for short periods, anyone with medical experience. That’s how I became ill. I was with a team who was treating a new sickness we hadn’t seen before. We’d treated the pneumonic plague about six months before that. We thought it might be back in an altered state. Before we realized what we were dealing with, it was too late. The research team back at the compound discovered it. They also created a vaccine for the children and helped to power a think tank to figure out treatment for it. As you well know, it’s not like we had access to what we used to have in this country.”

“We dealt with the pneumonic plague, as well,” Derek adds.

“The smallpox outbreak killed almost a thousand of our people. A few of the scientists died, which was an especially hard loss on the city. It took a long time to find replacements for them. Many laborers, gardeners, staff at the bunker were also taken down by the pox. We couldn’t afford it.”

“No, I suppose it would be the same anywhere,” Doc says. “Nobody can afford to lose people anymore. We’ve all lost too many as it is.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” Robert acknowledges.

“So what’s all of this have to do with us?” Reagan asks abruptly.

“When things started becoming too tense, I knew we had to leave,” he says. “I tried to make them see reason, see that what they were doing was going too far, that our country wasn’t founded on those principles, and we needed to take a step back and reassess the situation. It didn’t work. I was finally put on a temporary leave of my duties.”

“Which were?” John asks.

“I was the President’s advisor. I was the highest ranked military advisor left in the bunker, too,” he says. “I was the Vice-President.”

“What?” Reagan gasps as everyone else either inhales sharply or repeats her. “So you were the one on the radio?”

“I tried to get through on the radio,” he says. “But I didn’t figure the transmissions were going through at all. A few of the men on my side would take terrible risks and send out broadcasts for me once I was fired. They were risking their families’ safety and security by doing so. But we knew it was the right thing to do. We couldn’t continue on the way it was headed. Some of my men took over for me so that I could get on the road to come home. I had to get out of there. They were on to me.”

“Who was on to you?” Derek asks.

“The President, well, the old Vice-President. Our country’s actual President died almost two years ago. He made it to the bunker out of D.C. Many others, actually, most others didn’t. But, unfortunately, he caught an influenza that spread through the new city. The Vice-President took over. Then he asked me to be his Vice. I didn’t have much choice. A lot of the people who were a lot more qualified than me were dead. People were looking to me for answers since I was in the military. I’d gained their trust. They knew I just wanted what was best for the new city. The new government was so unstable, I didn’t really feel like I could turn him down.”

“And also, that helped you fulfill some of your lifelong political ambitions,” Reagan remarks coldly.

It’s apparent to everyone in the room, including her father, that she can’t stand him. Her green eyes flash with unspoken hatred. Being raised by a politician, Paige is familiar with the sacrifices that children have to make to support the careers of their political parents. But this is nothing compared to her life. Reagan loathes her father, and it goes way back. She’s heard a lot from the three sisters about their father leaving them at the farm and never visiting. Paige can’t say that she blames Reagan for her disrespect or dislike of her father. Plus, she can’t really relate because she was close with her own parents, especially her father.

“Really, Reagan,” her father states in a reproachful tone. “That’s ridiculous. It wasn’t as if the country was still intact.”

“So what happened?” John interrupts, as he must feel a family feud brewing. “You said something at dinner about adopting a new constitution.”

Her father stares at her a moment longer before addressing Reagan’s husband.

“I tried to make them see reason. The only thing they were doing was creating a socialist society. It could become dangerous. I think the people were also growing tired of the way the city was being run. I didn’t want my family there anymore. My intention was never to stay there forever anyway. I knew I wanted to come back home to the farm eventually, but I felt obligated to help them. He was our President. It felt like the last stand between civilization and the final ruination of our country. I wanted it to work. I truly did. We all did. We wanted to start rebuilding and eventually grow the area into a massive expansion. We did do that… somewhat. We were growing and rebuilding. We were a long way from the way it was before, but it felt like progress at least. But things changed. Many of us were disappointed in the direction it started going. Then it became clear that I could no longer help or be of assistance to the President because I couldn’t do what he wanted me to do anymore. He picked up on my resistance, too. He had people spying on my family and me. It didn’t feel safe. I wasn’t the only one speaking out, either. That’s when he started sending out radio broadcasts around the country. He has some people out scouting for anyone he can find to join his army. They’re supposed to meet at different locations around the country. He’s trying to grow and become more powerful in force so that he can’t be overthrown, like a dictatorship. His messages are powerful.”

“Like the one you sent?” Sue asks from her seat next to Derek.

“Yes, similar,” he says. “I started sneaking and intercepting his radio messages at first, trying to derail them until things settled down. But I didn’t want to build an army, not at first. I wanted him to see reason, for all of them to see. I wanted to stick to the foundational principles of our country. Most of us didn’t want the drastic changes.”

“Who do you mean by us? His other cabinet members?” Doc questions while making notes.

“Yes, those and a few of the members of Congress who were left. Some of the scientists, doctors, scholars.”

“Why not just overthrow him and deal with it more quickly?” John asks.

“It wouldn’t have been that simple. Many of the people still want him in power. He has a full cabinet, military followers, and a lot of citizens who were victims of crime when the country collapsed and just want the safety offered there.”

“Interesting,” Derek observes quietly. “What about just voting him out or removing him from power?”

“We aren’t to the phase of holding elections. The people agreed to allow him to be in power as long as it took to get the country back on its feet. It was another thing I didn’t agree with. And getting him out of there is going to be difficult because he’s surrounded by his followers. Those were the only people allowed in the bunker, only the ones who were at the top of the so-called food chain.”

“That’s a bit judgmental, don’t ya’ think?” Reagan asks.

“Yes, I do,” he says. “But, like I said, at first it made sense. We had to protect the scientists and what few members of the government that were left. If they all would’ve died, then the last hope for our country would’ve dissolved, too. The CDC scientists were the ones compounding medicines for vaccines to combat the illnesses. The politicians were mapping together the fragmented pieces of what was left of the country and trying to figure out how to get people to the new city. It just all eventually became too distorted.”

“As most regimes become,” Doc says reverently.

“And so you decided to leave and form your own… country? Military power? Is that what you’re trying to accomplish?” John asks.

He also seems to dislike Reagan’s father, but Paige isn’t sure if it is simply because of his devotion to Reagan.

Her father nods and says, “Yes, it felt like the only way, the only choice I had. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. I decided if they wanted to form a new country under this new way of government, then that was fine. But I wasn’t going to stand by and watch what our forefathers established dissolve into dust. I couldn’t do it.”

“And, what, you want to take over?” Kelly asks.

Robert’s gaze jumps to Kelly across the room and rests there a moment as if contemplating the huge soldier who is standing so protectively behind Hannah who is seated.

“No, absolutely not, Kelly,” he says. “I’m in no shape to run anything. I just want to protect the interests of future generations by not allowing the constitutional framework of our country to be demolished.”

John points out, “But you were willing to change the constitution.”

“Only in some ways,” Robert concedes.

“So why do anything? Let them have their own little country out there run by morons,” Derek says. “It’s not like it would affect us. We’re secluded here. Most people are just trying to hold on by a thread, prepare food for the winter, survive. It would be so many years from now that they would have any authority or communication with us anyway. They are essentially running nothing. It’s just a small city. The people we’ve been involved with and who we’ve had contact with are barely making it. There isn’t a safe place left. Maybe Colorado is faring better, but this part of the country and the entire east coast- or what’s left of it- isn’t doing so hot. They’d have years, maybe decades to go before they’d even be a factor for us.”

“Perhaps, but he is starting to form a bigger army than he already has. He also has an incentive to offer them. Their families would be protected by coming to the new city and being taken in there.”

“How many does he have and how many do you anticipate coming?” John asks, his tone sounding to Paige as if he is becoming more concerned.

“I’m not sure how many will come, but he does have a few thousand already,” Robert answers.

John’s jawline tightens. Paige swallows hard. This could be dangerous.

“Can they force us off of the farm?” Sam asks nervously.

“No, dear,” Doc answers comfortingly. “Nobody’s making us go anywhere.”

“It won’t come to that, kiddo,” Cory says reassuringly. “Don’t worry.”

“What do you think he’s planning?” John asks.

Robert shakes his head and says, “I’m not sure. I know he’s angry with me. He says that we can’t afford to have a civil war. I told him that we don’t want that, either.”

“We?” Derek asks.

“My group of men. They are setting up in Fort Knox right now. I wanted something close to the farm, some place that we didn’t have to travel far to get to.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Reagan asks. “We’re not going anywhere. Nobody is going to Fort Knox or anywhere else with you.”

“You may not have to,” he says. “If I’m not there, he could lead his army to the farm, to our home. He doesn’t want the old ways. That’s what he calls it. He intends to run the country, even if there isn’t much left of it.”

“He knows about the farm?” Sue asks.

“Yes, he knows about the farm. I know about his family. He knew about mine. We were very close confidants at one time, Sue. I’ve known him a long time, way before the fall of our country, before he changed.”

“So you think he’s going to march his army this far east from Colorado to kick your ass or something?” Reagan asks.

“No,” Robert answers with less patience. “But there is a very good possibility that he will.”

“The military coup is what you have done? What you have headed up?” Reagan asks.

“Yes, but it was necessary,” he says.

“What a surprise,” Reagan remarks with sarcasm.

Paige’s head is swimming with information that is well beyond her capabilities of comprehension. Military coups, government overthrows? She feels like she just woke up in Venezuela.

“Believe it or not, Reagan, I was doing what I thought was the right thing to do. But we had to get out of there. I wasn’t going to have my children raised in a country that was no longer America.”

“And you gathered a group of soldiers?” Derek asks.

“There were people in the city who didn’t want to stay. Some were military. Others were just regular people, but I suppose nobody’s just regular anymore. Most of the people knew how to hunt or grow a garden, take care of children. Probably the same in your town. But some of them had military backgrounds.”

“And they got out, too, or did you leave them like you ditch everyone?” Reagan asks.

“We made plans for them to get out safely,” he explains. “I didn’t want to leave them, but as their leader, the leader of the resistance group, I had to get my family out first to safety or the whole movement would’ve collapsed before it got started. I heard from some of my contacts while we were traveling. Most of the people who wanted out were gone. Others who want to leave will find a way to do so, as well.”

“Classic,” Reagan blurts on an irritated snort.

“We need to join up with them. They’ll need leaders, people like Derek,” her father says.

“Wait a minute,” Sue interrupts. “Derek’s not leaving the farm, Dad. Get real.”

“I can’t very well have these people travel all the way to the base and abandon them there,” he rebuts.

“Are you fucking serious?” Reagan states loudly.

Her father’s temper, although he is weak and feeble, ignites and he hits her with a glare of anger and outrage at her language.

“We’ve already told you that we’re not leaving the farm. I don’t give a fuck who you have coming to Knox. These guys aren’t leaving. None of us are leaving. The kids aren’t going with you, either,” she keeps railing.

“That’s enough, young lady,” her father says in a low, menacing tone.

Doc holds up a hand to stop them from going at one another further, “We aren’t going to make any decisions on the matter tonight, so everyone just relax, please. There is a lot to consider here.”

Doc pushes his chair back and comes around the front of his desk. His son takes the cue and finds an empty chair to sit.

“I respect what you are trying to do, Robert,” he starts. “I would also not want to see the country’s foundation fractured. But I also understand that it has already been broken because of what happened. There isn’t much in the way of people like this new President to stop him from rising to power. I appreciate that you’re trying to stop him. Sometimes in matters such as this, it’s better to stand back and watch the situation implode from the inside. On the other hand, sometimes decisive action must be taken instead.”

He lights his pipe in a very casual manner as if he isn’t flustered in the least, even though Paige has butterflies twisting in her stomach at the thought of Simon leaving the farm to join this man’s army. She also doesn’t like the idea of Cory doing it, either.

“Robert,” he says, looking directly at his son, “we don’t make decisions individually anymore. Every important decision on the farm is made by a collective vote or discussion on the matter. You’ve brought us a big situation.”

“Dumped on us, you mean, Grandpa,” Reagan says.

He just smiles gently at Reagan and continues, “We’ll discuss it, collect further information from you on the matter and come to a decision together. When are you supposed to meet back up with these people in Kentucky?”

“As soon as possible,” he tells them. “I didn’t know I was going to lay low for so long again with that sickness. I’m very late as it is. You all don’t understand. If I don’t head up there and bring troops with me, they may leave and head back or decide to venture off on their own. Either idea would be devastating. We need to stand up to him and at least show him that we’re not going to be ruled by him and his new government.”

“How many people do you have in your group?” John asks, always the one who wants to know the most tactical of information.

Paige hopes he doesn’t leave, either. She really likes John and would hate to see him get hurt and tangled up in this mess that Reagan’s father has started.

“There should be close to six hundred,” he tells them.

“That’s a substantial number, Robert,” Doc says.

“Many people started communicating with us by short wave radio from around the country,” he says proudly.

“And what did you promise these people?” Paige asks with suspicion. It’s the first time in the meeting that she’s spoken. Most meetings she just hangs back unless they are discussing the wall build. Everyone turns to look at her. “Well, I just mean that he had to have told people who weren’t in Colorado that there would be an incentive to caravan their families to Fort Knox. Most people are hunkering down and trying to reestablish a life for themselves somewhere, especially with winter coming. The ones who survived, I mean.”

Everyone turns back around and stares at Robert, who looks at his feet for a second before answering.

“Protection. Community, growing a new community, forming a new country where we can flourish and be free, adhering to as much of our old constitution as we can instead of creating a new one,” he answers.

“But can you actually provide that?” Sue asks. “You’re going to form an army, build a new city capital, grow enough food and house that many people? That’s a massive undertaking.”

“I think we can if we all work together,” he says. “I know it’s not going to be easy, but I felt like it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. That’s where men like Derek could lead. And even you, Sue, would come in and teach the children, run a school. You’d be strong community leaders, teachers, and scientists, Reagan.”

She snorts in answer and says, “Who would be the President? You, I assume?”

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly and shakes his head. “We haven’t figured it all out. That’s why I came here. I knew that whoever was here with my parents would be good people and the kind that could lead a new country.”

“Uh huh,” Reagan says with open skepticism.

“Let us discuss it further in the next few days, Robert,” Doc suggests. “We’ll talk it over and see what we all think.”

Reagan’s father nods and hangs his head just a little. It seems to Paige that the man expected all of them to jump for joy at this opportunity. They are, however, a lot more pragmatic about the situation. It could get them all killed. At best it would take many of them away from the farm, the home where they’ve all flourished and survived for the past four years. Leaving it now just wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense to Paige. She has no intention of being involved in this scheme of Robert McClane’s. She just wants to stay on the farm where it’s safe and secure, and there are food and protection and family. Starting over again somewhere else, somewhere unknown to boot, just seems idiotic to her. She’s going to need to get Simon alone and talk it over. She has no intention of letting her little brother leave the farm to follow Reagan’s father. She just hopes he agrees with her and that so do the other family members.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Sam

A week after Reagan’s father addresses the family, Sam rises early to start her chores. A dense fog covers the valley and encompasses the farm in a dewy, wet atmosphere. The air is cold, the grass covered in frost as she makes her way to the horse barn. The mare finally had her foal a few days ago, and she’s been keeping a close eye on them both. He’s a bay like his mother and adorable and ornery already. His long spindly legs don’t seem thick enough to support him. When she arrives at his stall, Simon is already there.

“Hey, Sam,” he greets her.

“Hi,” she returns and pulls her red stocking cap down further on her head. Even though it only frosted, it seems cold enough to snow. The little kids are hoping it does. “How’s he doing?”

“Very well,” he answers. “How are you doing?”

She smiles up at him as she enters the stall to stand next to him. “Fine, I’m doing fine.”

“Are you sure?” he asks with more serious intent.

This makes her uncomfortable. She doesn’t want to talk about herself. She’s not fine at all, but Sam really isn’t going to tell Simon that. He worries too much as it is, and now he has the responsibility of his sister. He certainly doesn’t need to feel that same way about her.

“Yes, absolutely,” she lies. Since they’ve come back from the city, she’s been depressed, even more than usual. She hadn’t wanted to kill that man. Killing people is wrong. Taking a life is a sin. She hadn’t thought it out. She’d simply reacted. “What are you working on today?”

“Working with Reagan in the shed. We’re doing some experiments on bacteria and mold. But I was thinking if the weather holds out we could go to your old home tomorrow. I know we were supposed to go already, but something always comes up.”

His dark auburn hair is sticking out below his denim ball cap. His hands are covered in wool, fingerless gloves, and he wears his navy blue wool pea coat. Khaki cargo pants, distressed leather boots, and a striped wool sweater complete his outfit. He looks like he’s ready for a lecture at some college, not for working in a barn. Sam wonders if he actually picks out his clothing with purpose or if he’s just grabbing things off of the clothing shelves in the big house. That is likely the more reasonable scenario knowing what she does of Simon.

“That would be great, Simon,” she acknowledges. “Thanks for remembering.”

“I didn’t forget,” he explains. “We’ve just been so busy. I guess the guys are planning a trip next week to Dave the Mechanic’s town. We want to see what they’re doing in their town and if they have any ideas that we could put into place in our town or on the farm. We’ll see. Should be interesting.”

“Yes,” Sam says with a grin. “He is very interesting. That’s for sure. But you know what? He’s a good guy. He seems very nice.”

“Yeah, he’s cool. And heck, they’ve survived all this time over there. They must be doing something right.”

“Yes, they seem very… efficient,” Sam says, earning a chuckle from Simon.

“That’s an understatement,” he says.

They feed the horses, check on an injured gelding and turn out a mare who has healed. The barn smells like fresh cut hay and oats. Everyone loaded the last of the hay into the loft last month. They won’t use all of it for just the horses this winter, but in order to keep them alive, they’ll still need some. The cows will get the majority of the hay.

They both help Kelly in the dairy barn so that they can all get to breakfast faster. Gretchen and her brother are also present, both trying to learn the milking process. John joins them as they are finishing, and they head to the house together. Cory and Paige are ahead of them, and Sam frowns as Simon jogs away from them to join his sister and Cory. She notices that he wedges himself between them.

The sun has risen and is melting the frost, which is good since she doesn’t share the sentiment of wishing for snow today. Sometimes she enjoys going out with the little kids to play or ride sleds, but today, all Sam wants to do is curl up in front of the fireplace or hang out in the barn with the horses.

When they get to the house, everyone splits up to clean their hands and for some people, their clothing, as well. She helps Hannah and Sue make plates for the little kids, who now eat in the kitchen at the island or in the music room. Today it doesn’t seem as if Robert and his wife Lucille will be joining them for breakfast. They don’t always come to the house for meals. She’s not sure if they are skipping meals, or if they just aren’t used to the same schedule as the rest of the family. Gretchen and her brother usually prefer to eat in the music room with the kids. Perhaps they just feel more comfortable there.

Just as everyone is filing into the dining room to take their seats, John touches her shoulder.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says.

“Hey,” she returns.

His brow furrows slightly, and he asks, “Wanna’ take a ride with me after breakfast? Do a patrol?”

“Yeah, sure,” she immediately responds. John means so much to her. She’d never turn him down.

“Great,” he says and turns away. Then he turns back with a mischievous grin. “It’ll get you out of kitchen clean-up duties.”

She smiles widely, and he winks as they take their respective seats.

Hannah has outdone herself. She’s made sweet rolls. The whole house smells like warm, risen dough and spices and sugar. They are huge, so she cuts one in half and helps herself to scrambled eggs and a slice of ham to go with her roll.

“Oh, girls,” Grandpa says. “You must be trying to butter us up for something. This is a feast for kings, my darlings.”

Hannah smiles, and Sue chuckles before answering for them, “We wanted to make Reagan something nice. She’s been in a rather foul mood lately.”

Reagan snorts indelicately at her sister and says, “I don’t care if you insult me. And if being a crab is what’s going to get me a sweet roll for breakfast, then I’m gonna act like that all the time.”

Everyone laughs and thanks Reagan for whatever it was that she did to get them sweet rolls.

“Also, we wanted to treat everyone who went to the city for us,” Hannah says a moment later. “It was a huge risk, and the supplies that Simon and Samantha found helped make these.”

Everyone thanks them next, which causes her to blush under their praise.

“We need to send the four of you to the city more often,” Derek remarks with good humor.

“I don’t know if the Suburban can take the beating,” Cory jokes about her driving, causing Sam to blush again.

“Nah, she did all right,” John says. “Few bumps but none the worse for the wear.”

Kelly laughs and says, “Nothing like driving out of a hotspot, right?”

“Heck yeah,” John agrees and bumps fists with his friend.

Then Derek joins in and says, “Remember that time in Al-Raqqa? We had some interesting driving maneuvers going on there, too.”

“Yeah, Syria,” Kelly says, remembering. “What a crap hole.”

“That’s not nice, Kelly,” Hannah says.

John chuckles and says, “There wasn’t anything nice about it, Hannie. He’s right. Total crapsburg.”

“The C.O. wasn’t too happy with the way our Hum-Vee looked when we brought it back,” Kelly says with a laugh.

All three of them laugh.

“‘Harrison! You bring back another government owned vehicle looking like that, and I’m dockin’ your pay!’” Derek imitates in a stern voice.

“‘Third one this month!’” John further imitates. “You blankety-blank, bleep, bleep, bleep.”

Derek laughs and says, “Good job filtering that!”

Their male camaraderie is infectious, and everyone laughs along with them.

“Don’t worry, little sister,” Kelly says. “We buffed those little scratches right out. You can’t even tell now.”

She smiles with embarrassment. Sam knows full well that they don’t have the dents smoothed out as they are insinuating. She’d hit a parked car in her desperate attempt to evade those people shooting at them in the city. She’s no car expert, but those dents aren’t coming out.

“Tomorrow,” Grandpa starts, interrupting their teasing, “Simon is going to take Sam to her family’s home. We can’t afford the use of gas, so they’ll be going on horseback. I’ve given permission, but if any of you see a potential problem then just speak up now.”

“Nope,” John says. “Should be fine. Her old home’s only about six miles or so from here. They’ll be all right.”

Derek and Kelly also agree with the assessment. She’s relieved. She’s wanted to go home for months, even if it’s only for a day.

“If the weather would get bad, just spend the night over there,” Derek orders. “No sense getting lost in a snowstorm. Don’t want to get sick, either. We’ve got enough problems around here with illness.”

“Yes, sir,” Simon answers with a nod.

Suddenly Reagan rises, tipping over her chair which lands with a loud clang against the hardwood floor.

“Hey!” John exclaims. “Babe… what’s…?”

Everyone startles and rises as she runs from the room. She doesn’t get far before the sound of retching comes from the small half bath off the kitchen. John is the first one through the door to check on her. She kicks the door closed with her foot before he can enter. A few minutes later, Reagan emerges with a wet cloth in her hand.

“You ok, boss?” John asks and places both hands on her shoulders.

“Describe all right,” she says with sarcasm and frowns. There is a wet washcloth in her hand that she keeps pressing to her forehead. Her curls are getting damp. Her skin looks pale and pasty, which is unusual for Reagan, who holds a tan all winter.

“Is this the flu again, Doc?” John asks Grandpa with concern.

“What are your symptoms, dear?” Grandpa asks with equal worry for his granddaughter.

“Pregnancy?” Reagan answers calmly and rolls her eyes.

“What?” Sue exclaims.

“Really?” John asks quietly. “Are you sure?”

“About three months sure,” Reagan answers and shakes her head with a frown.

“What? You’re just now telling me?” John asks.

Reagan sighs and shrugs. “I wasn’t sure. I took a pregnancy test at the clinic. I mean, hell, it’s not like I wanted Grandpa to do a check. Gross.”

“That wouldn’t bother me, honey,” Grandpa states in a very professional doctor-like tone.

“That makes one of us,” she continues. “It came up positive a few weeks ago. I just didn’t tell you because everything’s been so… crazy.”

Grandpa says, “I had a few suspicions. I was going to suggest a pregnancy check, but I figured you were on top of the situation.”

“Well, I am kind of a doctor, so I’d better be.”

“We’re gonna have a baby?” John asks again nervously.

“It would appear so,” she answers.

“Awesome!” Cory shouts. “That’s freakin’ awesome!”

Then the noise starts. Everyone is ecstatic. Sam hugs Reagan and John. The rest of the family congratulates them, as well. The only one not happy is Reagan.

“We’re going to be parents again,” John says and pulls her in for a hug.

“Yippee,” she says with irritation.

“Maybe you’ll have twins!” Huntley says, remembering his brother.

Grandpa rests a hand on his shoulder for a moment. “That would be special, huh?”

“I didn’t think you could,” John says.

“Obviously, science is wrong sometimes,” she answers. “This sucks. I’m supposed to deliver babies, not give birth to them.”

“You’re not even showing,” Sue notes, ignoring Reagan’s angst.

Hannah runs her hand over Reagan’s stomach, oblivious as usual to personal boundaries. There are tears in her eyes as she says, “I hope it’s a girl, Reagan. I hope it’s a girl who can play with Mary. They’ll be like sisters, like us.”

“Yeah, a little boss,” Kelly observes. “Just what John needs.”

Derek and Kelly joke a few moments with John, giving him a hard time. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“This sucks,” Reagan says. “This is your job, Hannie, not mine.”

“I can’t believe it,” John says. “This is great, babe.”

“Speak for yourself,” she says. “I don’t have time for this.”

Sue laughs and says, “Yeah, like I had time for it three times?”

“Momma’s gonna have a baby?” Jacob asks as the other kids wander into the melee.

“Yes, she is,” Sue answers him.

He stares at Reagan a moment and then asks, “Where is it? I wanna’ see it.”

John laughs and takes Jacob’s hand, leading him over to Reagan’s flat stomach where he kneels and says, “The baby’s still growing in Momma’s tummy.”

“How’s it going to get out of there?” he asks with a four-year old’s curiosity. Everyone chuckles.

Kelly pats John on the back and says, “Good luck explaining that one, buddy.”

Then he laughs and walks away. The group heads back to the dining room to finish their breakfast, but John and Reagan do not. Sam suspects that John is over the moon. He had tears in his eyes. She’s quite sure he is overcome with joy, even if Reagan is not. Sam can’t understand why she wouldn’t be happy. Reagan’s a great mom to Jacob. She’ll be just as wonderful with her own baby. She even finds herself feeling a little envious of their newfound happiness. She wishes that she had someone to love unconditionally and who’d love her in return the same way. She already does love someone this way, but it has not been returned, and Sam doubts it ever will be.

For the rest of the meal, the family is on a high after hearing the news. Everyone talks about it in different aspects whether they are just expressing their own delight or chuckling over Reagan’s distress. When the meal concludes, Sam rises and helps clear the plates.

“Ready, kiddo?” John asks when Sam has placed a stack of dishes on the island counter.

“I just need to help finish,” she tells him.

He shakes his head, wrinkles his nose and says, “I’m relieving you of your duties. Huntley, can you cover for Sam?”

Of course, he nods and says, “Sure, no problem.”

It makes Sam feel guilty as she tugs on her riding boots in the mudroom, but John chuckles and says, “Hey, if you can’t get out of KP duty once in a while…”

“I don’t want other people to have to pick up my slack,” she tells him once she has her boots on. Then she grabs her jacket and a stocking cap.

“We all pick up the slack for each other. You do enough around here, Miss Sam.”

She shoots John a smile and gets one in return. He hands her a pistol that she straps to her hip. Then he grabs his rifle from the corner, and they head to the barn. John favors a gentle, older mare, which he catches easily and begins tacking.. Sam’s favorite gelding is slightly harder to snare, but she manages to lure him in with the promise of a handful of grain. It’s not long before she and John are riding through the forest behind the farm. He seems at ease, relaxed and thoroughly pleased with himself. They ride for nearly an hour in the quiet solitude of the woods with nothing but the sound of birds chirping. He spots then points out a herd of deer when they crest the top pasture.

“Think I’m gonna take Huntley and Jake hunting tomorrow morning,” he tells her.

“Jake?” she asks with a smile. “Isn’t he a little young?”

“Never too early to learn,” he says. Then he makes a funny face and says, “I won’t make him clean it, though. That might be going a little too far for a four-year-old.”

Sam chuckles. John is so easy to be around, so comforting. He reminds her of her older brother, who was easy going and funny, too.

“Hey, kid,” he says, “let’s walk for a while, ok?”

“Sure,” she returns and dismounts.

They walk side by side for a short time before John says, “Sam, I know what happened in the city. Cory told us.”

Sam swallows hard and frowns. She regrets that they told the family. She doesn’t want them to look at her like some sort of cold-blooded killer psychopath.

“It’s ok, you know,” he says quietly.

Sam just shrugs.

“You were just defending yourself, kid,” he says as if he can read her every thought.

Sam shakes her head and purses her lips. She doesn’t want to talk about this with him, not with John, one of her favorite people in the world.

“It was stupid,” she admits. “It was all my fault. We shouldn’t have gone over there. I should’ve...”

“Nothing in that scenario was your fault,” he interrupts and stops walking. “The boss tells me that you’ve been depressed since you guys came back. I’ve noticed it, too.”

Sam would like to die of embarrassment. That would be better, anything would be better than having everyone know that she’s a nut case.

“It’s ok to be sad,” he explains gently. “But you don’t need to feel like a victim.”

“I was a victim,” she rebuts. She’s always the victim, but she doesn’t want to admit that to John.

“No, you weren’t,” he argues softly. “You, Samantha Patterson, are nobody’s victim. Not anymore.”

“I got kidnapped,” she says weakly.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says and tilts her chin up to meet his gaze. “Nobody can ever hurt you again. Don’t you see? You didn’t need anyone to come to your rescue. You handled the situation yourself. You’re never gonna be someone’s victim again.”

She shrugs. It sure didn’t feel like that when it happened. She was almost raped again.

“Tell me in detail what happened, what you felt,” John requests.

Sam shakes her head and looks at her feet.

“Tell me,” he repeats.

“Some of it is a blur,” she says.

“Tell me what you remember,” he presses.

Sam sighs hard and begins, “Paige and I separated. I went to the other side of a building to use the restroom. I looked around and didn’t see anyone. I squatted down and peed. Then I stood and zipped my pants. I…. I remember looking at my boot and seeing that it was untied, so I squatted back down to tie it. That’s when it happened. He grabbed me from behind. I didn’t even hear him. He wrapped his arm around me and covered my mouth. His friend shoved a rag in my mouth. Then that was it. They had guns pointed at me. I tried to get loose. It didn’t work. He just threw me over his shoulder and took off.”

Sam scowls as those memories assail her. She hates these memories, these nightmares that keep her up at night.

“Go on,” he urges.

“After we got a few blocks away, he threw me down and started dragging me. They threatened me. Told me they were going to kill my friends if I screamed. He held onto my wrist and made me run with them.”

She pauses for a moment to catch her breath, which she hadn’t even realized had accelerated.

“And then?” John asks.

Sam’s gaze fades off to the right as she thinks, “We went into this building. I took the rag out of my mouth. I knew I couldn’t scream, or they’d kill me. They told me they would, so I believed them. They were talking, planning, saying that they were going to take me down to the river and sell me when they were done. Then the one guy went back outside to keep watch while the other…”

“It’s ok,” John says and touches her arm, startling her. “Keep going.”

“Then he grabbed me, tried to kiss me. I bit him. He hit me and shoved me to the ground. I just remember thinking how much the gravel hurt my back and shoulders.”

Sam remembers that distinctly. She also remembers the deeply embedded smell of grease and diesel fuel in those rocks and dirt beneath her. It was such a dirty place. It was the perfect place, so dark and damp and dirty for doing bad things to people.

“What happened next?” John asks.

Sam shakes her head, “The next part is the blur. I don’t know if I remember it clearly enough.”

“That’s what I thought,” John says.

Sam looks up at him to find John smiling.

“Your instincts and training took over.”

“I don’t know,” she says. “I just remember thinking that nobody was coming for me. That Cory and Simon would never find me. I felt very alone.”

“Good,” John says, confusing her. “Keep going, Sam.”

“He had bad breath,” she says. “I remember that. Then it was weird. He started tearing my clothes, but it was like I was floating out of my body looking down at us. I could see him. I could see what he was doing, but it wasn’t like I was in my own body.”

“Yep,” John says.

“I slid my hand down my leg and got it to my boot,” she says, her blocked memories resurfacing. “Once I had the hilt in my hand, I knew it meant freedom. That’s all I remember. Paige said they found me on top of him stabbing him. I don’t remember that part. I just remember feeling like it wasn’t me, that I was looking at a movie screen watching it happen.”

“That’s right, kid,” John says.

“What do you mean?”

“When you’ve been thoroughly taught like we trained you guys, instinct and training kick in. You become a robot, going through the motions, knowing exactly what to do and how to do it. That’s normal. I figured that’s what happened. That’s a very good thing. It means our training worked. You reacted exactly the way you should have, Sam. And the out of body experience? That’s normal, too. I’ve often seen myself acting out a kill scene in the middle of a firefight when in reality, I’m actually reactive.”

“I thought I was a weirdo.”

John chuckles, “No, not weird at all. Normal. Very normal, actually. I’m glad your training finally paid off. You weren’t scared, were you?”

“Once it started?” she asks.

“Right, once he threw you down? You weren’t scared. You were just acting instinctually.”

“No,” she says. “You’re right. I wasn’t scared. I was… I don’t know how to explain it. I wanted out of there.”

“You have more skills with a knife than some of us men,” he says. “You’ll always have that. Nobody can ever take that from you. Not me, not Simon, not some evil man that wants to hurt you.”

“What I did was a sin, John,” she says what’s weighed on her mind since she killed that man.

“What he was doing was a bigger sin. You were just defending yourself. He was a creepo pervert. You’re just a young girl. He didn’t have the right to take you in the first place. Do you understand me?”

Sam nods, still unsure, though. She’s almost nineteen, but maybe John still thinks of her as a young girl. She certainly doesn’t see herself in this way.

“You have no reason to feel guilt over taking his life,” he explains. Then he continues their walk. “I’ve taken a lot of lives over the years, Sam. I don’t let it bother me. The men I killed were just like the one who took you. The men I killed thought their religion gave them the right to rape women and little kids and kill Americans. They were no better or worse than the man who took you.”

“I guess that’s probably true,” she concedes with another nod.

“I’m glad you did what you did. You don’t deserve to be anyone’s victim, not ever again. You do what you have to do to survive, young lady. Don’t hesitate. Don’t feel guilty about it later, either. Let it go. Don’t think about it. Bottle it down, talk about it if that makes you feel better, just do whatever it takes to flush it away.”

“It’s hard,” she admits. “I keep seeing it happen, especially at night.”

“I know,” he says and places his hand on her back for a moment before continuing. “I used to be in the service with a lot of young guys that had PTSD. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes, I’ve heard Sue and Reagan talking about it.”

“Good, so you know it’s when something stressful happens to someone, and they have a hard time dealing with,” he says. Sam nods. She’s not sure why he’s telling her about it, though. “You have a lot of the symptoms of it, Sam. I’m telling you how to deal with it. I’ve had to deal with it, too. So have Kelly and Derek. Heck, probably just about any soldier who’s ever served in an active combat role has had to manage it. Everyone kind of deals with it in their own way.”

“I don’t think I have that. I’m not a soldier.”

“Oh, yes you are, young lady,” he says. “We all are now. Every last one of us is a soldier. We don’t have much of a choice in the matter now.”

“Oh,” she whispers. She hadn’t thought of it that way.

“But I’m not gonna stand by and let you waste yourself away with guilt over killing some dirtbag. You’ve lost weight since you guys came back.”

She hadn’t noticed.

“I’ll help you get through it. You can talk to me or Reagan if you want. Or one of the other guys. Like I said, we’ve all dealt with it. Remember how bad Reagan was? She’s gotten a lot better. I knew she would. You’re strong like her.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sam says with honesty.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he tells her and stops again. “I know about your pictures.”

Sam blushes ten shades of red. How humiliating! She didn’t think anyone knew other than Simon, and she’s been hiding them from him.

“Don’t worry,” John says. “I’m not gonna tell anyone. I also don’t think it’s a big deal, either. If it makes you feel better, then do it. Just don’t show everyone. Your art is an outlet for you. So are the horses. Everyone deals with bad things in their own way. I can’t even imagine what you went through before with Peter’s group.”

She blushes harder and looks at her feet. This is also humiliating. She doesn’t want John to look at her like she’s some sort of fallen woman, a harlot for what Bobby did to her.

“That wasn’t your fault, either, or Simon’s,” he states emphatically. “I only wish you had the knife skills back then that you have now. That little creep.”

His brow furrows deeply as he remembers Bobby.

“It’s ok,” she says softly.

“No, it most certainly isn’t ok at all,” he growls. “That little….”

He literally grinds his teeth together. Sam can hear it.

“Anyway, I just don’t want you to feel depressed or traumatized because of this latest thing. Not you, not Samantha Patterson kick-butt female warrior with some seriously mad knife skills.”

She grins crookedly, and he chucks her under the chin before continuing on with their walk.

“I won’t tell anyone that we talked, either. And I won’t tell anyone if you want to keep drawing… that stuff. If it makes you feel any better, I used to get drunk sometimes. I know. Not the best form, right? But I did it because the liquor forced my brain to forget stuff I didn’t want to remember. We all do dumb things to get away from our pasts. I learned how to deal with it in a more productive way than ruining my liver. I just figured it out pretty quickly. You’ll get through this, too. I know you will. And when you feel better, I want you to head up a training program for the younger kids. Helping the children and others to learn about nursing will also give you something to take your mind off of it. But you need to start a tactical training program for the kids.”

“What?” she asks with surprise.

“Yeah, sure,” he explains. “Derek and I talked about it. We want you to teach the kids knife skills, especially combat knife skills. We don’t want anything to happen to Ari or any of the other kids. If something were to happen, if our family were to be split up, we’d want them to be able to keep themselves safe. You’re the best one on the farm with a dagger.”

“Oh,” she says with even more surprise. “That’s a big responsibility.”

“Yep,” he comments nonchalantly as he mounts up again. “Think you can handle it?”

Sam swings up and thinks a moment before answering, “Um, yeah, I think so. Are you sure?”

“Heck, yeah we’re sure,” he reiterates. “The guys are clumsy with knives. Simon would have a heart attack if the little kids were playing with knives, and Cory wouldn’t have the patience. He’d just have them blasting away with a gun.”

She chuckles and suspects that John is just exaggerating. Cory is the best trainer on the farm. He taught her practically everything she knows about knives and shooting. He’s very patient. But the part about Simon is probably right. He’s so overly protective of the kids, and, unfortunately, he has her lumped in as one of them.

“Ok, John,” she says decisively. “I’ll do it.”

“Good,” he returns. “Now no more thinking about that idiot in the city. You’ve got too much to do with horse training and now heading up the kids’ tactical training to be bothered with bad memories. Besides, you’re Sam the conqueror. You don’t have regrets. You’re not a victim anymore. You kill men with knives. You’ll do it again if you have to. You’ll do it if your family is in danger. And you’ll sleep like a baby. You’re just another one of the hardcore soldiers on the farm.”

He reaches over and holds out his fist to her. She’s seen the men on the farm doing this. Nobody’s ever offered one to her. She bumps her fist against his with a bright smile on her face. She feels like she’s shared something huge with John. It’s as if she’s just been offered admittance into an exclusive club. He chuckles and nods.

“And you’re gonna be a dad… again,” she says with humor.

John laughs and shakes his head, “I know. Crazy, right? The boss isn’t too thrilled.”

“I noticed,” Sam admits. “Think she’ll warm up to the idea?”

“Yeah, sure,” he says with confidence. “Reagan just reacts this way to things when she’s scared. Remember? She wasn’t too keen on being with me. I had to leave the farm for a while just to get her stubborn butt in gear. She came around. She’ll come around to this, too.”

“You’d better hope so,” she teases. “You’ll be a single dad times two. The Johnson’s moved back, so you’ll just have to stay out in the cabin with her dad this time if you run away.”

“Oh, geez!” he exaggerates and laughs loudly.

He suggests a race, and loving a good run, Sam takes him up on it. The brisk air bites at her cheeks and nose as they gallop. By the time they reach the barn, she feels like a lead weight has been lifted from her shoulders. She swings to the ground and hugs John for a long time. Then she kisses his cheek and takes his horse’s reins, too. She doesn’t mind untacking his horse for him because it affords her more time in the barn with them.

“You’re gonna be all right, Sam,” he says firmly as if it’s an order.

“Thanks, John,” she returns with tears in her eyes and a shy nod. She doesn’t want to disobey an order, and she sure as heck doesn’t want to let him down.

He pats the top of her head and walks away. For the first time in a long time, Sam feels like he might be right. He’s given her a lot to think about, but there was something in his talk with her that seems to have given her the confidence she’s needed to defeat this demon in her head. She can’t wait to go visit her mom tomorrow with Simon. There’s so much she needs to tell her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Simon

Simon pulls on a black turtleneck and a flannel shirt since the weather has turned wicked and there is no way he can get out of taking Sam to see her family’s home today. Thermals under his jeans should keep him warm during their trek by horse to get her there. Last night a freezing rain hit the farm, and he’d spent most of his time in the greenhouse with Sue getting things moved or covered up. They rigged up a system a few years ago to run heat to the greenhouse all winter using an outdoor wood-burner. They just don’t usually need it this soon. With the hard winter months fast approaching, though, he’s sure they’ll use it. So far the greenhouse has been a successful venture, one that Cory helped engineer.

His friend is already gone from their shared bedroom. He’s supposed to be helping Paige with building an addition to the chicken coop per Hannah’s request. Simon would rather they not work together, but he’ll hold his tongue until he finds a legitimate reason to keep them apart, especially since they are working on a project that will benefit the whole family.

He is greeted at the top of the stairs by Sam with a bright smile plastered to her doll-like face. She has braided her hair into braids on either side of her head, which just makes her look even more like a little kid. Simon frowns.

“Ready?” she asks with a hopeful expression.

“Just about,” he tells her. “Gotta pick up some extra ammo in the shed.”

“Me, too,” she says. “Bye, Hannah.”

“Got your food bag?” Hannah asks as they embrace in the kitchen, which still smells like the breakfast they just finished a few hours ago.

“Yes, I sure do,” Sam replies and kisses her on the cheek. “Don’t worry. There’s nothing to worry about. We’ll be just fine.”

Hannah draws in a deep breath. “Worrying is what I do. Just call us and let us know you’re all right, ‘kay?”

“Sure thing,” Sam tells her.

“Bye, Hannie,” Simon tells her, but Hannah being Hannah makes her way to him, and rather quickly. She pulls on his arm and forces an embrace.

“Take care of her, Simon,” she whispers. “Be patient.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers.

“See you guys,” Sue calls from the music room. “Be careful!”

“You got it,” he calls back.

Sam leads the way to the med shed so they can collect ammo. Reagan is working at the back counter with Doc. Her father and step-mother haven’t been around much lately. Simon’s not sure what he’s up to, but he also doesn’t like Robert very well. The guy has a lot of agendas, not something that Simon finds to be a likable quality in a person. He prefers straightforward, no-nonsense people like the McClane family. He doesn’t consider Robert to be one of them.

“Making any progress?” he asks Reagan as he packs ammo mags into his pockets and backpack. They’ve been working non-stop on a possible smallpox vaccine and researching treatments to combat it in case the disease makes its way to the farm. They are fairly confident that her father is no longer capable of spreading the disease, but after seeing the scars he carries from it, none of them want to take the chance. It’s bad enough that the man came to the farm with such a potentially deadly disease in his system and would even take the chance of making his daughters or parents sick. It’s one more reason that Simon has decided that he doesn’t care much for Robert. He was willing to take the chance with their health for his own gain.

“Somewhat,” Reagan answers from her microscope.

“Great,” he says. “Feeling any better?”

“Not really,” Reagan says without looking up from her work. She makes a notation on the yellow pad beside her microscope. He’s had to decipher those scribbles many times. It’s not fun.

“I’ve got a tea bag that I custom mixed to help with the nausea for you,” he offers and pulls it from the pocket of his shirt and places it on the table.

She groans. “Great, more hippy shit.”

“Doc already give you some?” he asks as Sam slams a mag home in her AR-15. He gives her a firm nod and hands her another full magazine.

“Oh, yes,” Reagan says. “Tasted like a mix of mint, dirt and cow ass.”

Simon and Sam both laugh. Then he says, “Well, I gotta admit, I’ve never tasted a cow’s butt, so I’ll have to take your word for it on that one.”

“I’m ready,” Sam tells him as she slings her rifle over her shoulder.

“See ya,” he tells Reagan and pats her shoulder. She doesn’t answer. He’s not even sure if she heard him, so he just follows Sam to the door.

“Don’t let your guard down, Professor,” Reagan says without looking up. “Stay safe. Don’t forget those freaky fuckers out there wanna’ kill you and rape her.”

This makes Simon frown hard. “Yes, ma’am. Will do,” he answers and leaves. It’s the best he’ll get from his mentor. He knows she isn’t going to offer a hug. Reagan’s a lot better than she was a few years ago, but she’s still not Hannah. And, for Simon, there are no hard feelings about it, either. He loves Reagan like a big sister, and she has been a great doctor from whom to learn medicine.

When he gets outside, Sam is hugging John. Kelly and Derek are in the equipment shed trying to get the CNG truck working. It was running fine the other day, but for some reason, it has now decided not to work. So they’re back to the drawing board. He spots Paige with Cory near the coop. As Simon approaches, he can see that his sister is standing close to Cory and pointing to her design on paper. She looks up to find him approaching and backs away from Cory. Then she hits Simon with a wide smile.

“Leaving?” she asks.

Simon takes a moment to look at Cory, then at her, and replies, “Yeah, we’re ready.”

“Sure you don’t want me to go with ya,’ bro?” Cory offers for probably the tenth time.

It makes Simon feel a little bad. He was ready to judge his friend for standing so close to his sister again, and here he is trying to go with him for protection.

“Nah, she doesn’t want anyone else to come,” Simon tells them. “We’ll be fine.”

“Be careful,” Paige says quickly and hugs him.

Simon wraps his arm around Paige while holding his rifle back with the other. His sister feels so frail and small in his embrace. He meets Cory’s gaze above her head.

“Look after Paige while I’m gone,” he orders intensely and gets a firm nod from Cory in answer.

She steps back and says, “I can look after myself. I did just that while I was on my own, silly.”

“I’ll babysit her, bro,” Cory says and wraps a huge, muscular arm around Paige’s shoulders, causing her to cringe as if she finds him disgusting.

“Not that close,” Simon says and swipes his hand down between them, knocking Cory’s arm away. This ignites laughter from Cory.

“Got it, Professor,” his friend says with another raucous laugh. They shake hands, and Simon turns to go. He looks back over his shoulder at them once, only to find them working on the drawing. He doesn’t like how close they are standing next to one another again. His eyes narrow as he catches up to Sam near the horse barn where she is conversing with John and Doc.

“Call it in if you see anything or need our assistance,” John tells him again. They’ve gone over just about every contingency plan possible.

“Yes, sir,” he says and shakes John’s hand. “We’ll radio you if we need help.”

“Do you have your medical bag, son?” Doc asks as he puffs on his pipe.

“Yes, sir,” he answers. “Got it right here.”

Simon pats his backpack where a small, emergency medical kit is stashed that contains enough supplies to treat minor wounds.

Sam hugs Grandpa, who then hands her the reins of her horse. Then Simon shakes his hand and nods once to John.

“Stay safe out there,” his friend says as Simon mounts up.

He just nods as they ride away. It’s only a few miles to her home, and they’ll stick to the woods on their property and then the neighbors’ to get to the main road, which will be the only danger. He’s been down that path many times to get to town, and very rarely do they ever even see another vehicle. Sometimes they’ll spot a group of people on foot passing through, but even that isn’t often. A few years ago on a run with Cory, he and his friend had kept to the inside perimeter of the forest and observed a group of over a hundred men, women, and children on horseback moving down the road. They hadn’t attempted to stop their caravan, though. The group had seemed harmless enough. Some of the people had rifles or pistols, but most of them had looked unarmed. They’d followed the travelers to ensure they didn’t stop in Pleasant View, which they did not. They seemed like they were headed somewhere, so they’d let them go.

“It feels good to get out in the fresh air,” Sam observes as they ride side by side through the woods.

The leaves are gone, and the greenery is brown and wilted, which always makes Simon feel a little anxious. It’s a lot easier when the forest is in full bloom and the foliage provides more cover. He scans their surroundings at a constant pace.

“Yeah,” he agrees, although he’d rather be back at the farm working with Reagan on research.

“Thanks for taking me,” she says for the thousandth time since yesterday.

He looks over at her and his breath catches. There’s just always something about Sam that does this to him. Simon looks quickly away and nods. His eyes slide without his consent to her thigh encased in her black riding pants that are too snug. She’s wearing a borrowed black coat because hers is bright red, not good for sneaking about. Her dark blue stocking cap just brings out the bright blue color of her eyes.

The trip is a sluggish one since the recent freezing rain from yesterday and light snow that followed have caused some of the terrain to become slippery and muddy, which slows their pace considerably, especially going up and down the hills. They arrive a few hours later at the street where they must cross. Simon calls a halt so that they can watch for a few minutes. A small herd of deer runs down the middle of the street, but other than that, it seems clear. There isn’t movement near any of the abandoned homes or on the road. Her house is only about a mile from their location. Since most of the properties in this once-expensive suburban area are fenced in for privacy or, like Sam’s home, show horses, they will be forced to ride the rest of the way on the road.

“Let’s move,” he tells Sam.

Simon removes his rifle from its scabbard and holds the weapon’s barrel pointed down as they ride toward her home. The clip-clop of their horses’ hooves is the only sound. He eyes up the neighborhood, searching for movement in or around houses. They’ve raided this area many times for supplies and have looted homes and buildings for things the family can use. There has never been anyone living in any of the homes. That doesn’t mean that the residential status of one them hasn’t changed recently. His sister and her small group survived for years by staying in abandoned homes. Other people could be doing the same. Others who might not be as friendly as Paige and her friends could be occupying her home.

They ride through the broken front gates of her family’s driveway. It really was a shame what Peter’s group did to Sam’s home. It was beautiful at one time.

“Let’s look around,” Simon suggests as he dismounts and ties his horse to a lamp post in front of the house. Sam does the same. He hasn’t ridden for a few weeks, and his thigh muscles are reminding him that it isn’t a good idea to take that much time off from the saddle.

She follows him as they search the garage and then the barn. They make their way to the house and use the rear entrance. John and Kelly came back to her house less than a year after she and Simon arrived at the farm and winterized the plumbing so that the pipes wouldn’t freeze. For some reason for which Simon is glad, they hadn’t wanted her home to flood and become ruined. Perhaps they thought someday that things would right themselves in the country, and she might want to come back here. Or maybe they just didn’t want the home destroyed by mold and water because they care so much for Sam. He’s not sure, but it does make the place less macabre without black mold climbing the walls like so many other structures they’ve looted.

The kitchen is still intact, as well. Simon can well imagine Sam’s mom in the room cooking. He knows how close her family was, and how much they mean to her still. She walks ahead of him and stands there in the threshold between the great room and kitchen.

“Sam,” he whispers and touches her arm. “Stay here. Let me check it out first.”

She glances over her shoulder at him and nods. Her eyes have taken on a sadness, one that he hopes goes away soon. She’s been this way since they came back from the city. He can’t stand seeing her like this. Simon moves quickly to the finished basement and does a fast search. Then he moves on to the attached garage where he finds nothing out of place; her mother’s car is still there, a nice Mercedes. This is followed by a scan of the first floor office, dining room, and formal sitting room. Then it’s upstairs through the four bedrooms and bath and finally the third floor loft that was set up as a rec room for the kids complete with video game machines, a pool table, a giant screen t.v., an air hockey table, bean bag chairs and a trophy area for Sam’s riding accomplishments. They had a similar space in his family home in Arizona. It was important that he and Paige were quiet when his father had guests, so theirs was allocated to the basement only, with no exceptions of bringing any of their mess and clutter to the first-floor living spaces where it would be seen.

“We’re clear,” he says when he returns to the living room, only to find that Sam isn’t there. Her backpack and gun are on the kitchen counter, though. Simon frowns. He can hear her moving around upstairs. It’s very irritating when she doesn’t listen to him. He locks the back door and jogs upstairs where he finds Sam in her old bedroom. It’s a total homage to horses. Posters and paintings of them are on the walls. Trophies and ribbons still line her dresser along with framed pictures of herself with friends and a few with her horses. Her bed is still made as if she’d made it the morning that Peter’s group had taken her and killed her family. She is sitting on her bed looking at a book.

“My school yearbook,” she tells him before Simon even has the chance to ask. He’d been about to reprimand her for not waiting for him downstairs like he’d told her to, but now Simon doesn’t have the heart to do it. He stands his rifle against the door trim and approaches the bed. Sam points to a page she has open. “That’s me with some friends at a pep rally. I look like such a dork.”

“Doubtful,” he says and sits beside her. Doubtful, indeed. She looks younger, but certainly not unattractive. “Hideous,” he teases. “I can see why you’d be horrified by this.”

“Simon!” she says with a light laugh.

“You should see my old yearbook photos. Now those are the stuff that nightmares are made of.”

“Yeah, right,” she rebuts, bumping her shoulder against his.

If she only knew. He was a total nerd in school. Chess club, science club, video gaming with friends, not exactly chick-magnet material. She rises and leaves the room, going to her brother’s next. Simon grabs his rifle and follows. She doesn’t dwell long in there and leaves her brother’s room almost immediately. Then she walks down the long hallway to her parents' suite. The furniture is still there, but the clothing and shoes from the closets are mostly gone. The McClane family took them for use with the whole family. Some of her father and mother’s dressier shoes and clothing still hang there. Samantha backs up, runs into Simon and squeezes past him to retreat from the room.

“Sam?” he calls after her as she fast walks downstairs, holding onto the intricately carved banister. “Hey, wait up.”

He catches up to her near the kitchen and grabs her arm. “You ok?”

She nods and says, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just need a minute. I want to go out to their graves.”

“Sure, I’ll take you,” he says.

They walk out behind the barn where the guys buried her family members. A light flurry of snow has begun, and the sky has turned an angry gray tone with no sun in sight. Their graves are marked with wooden crosses on which Doc and Cory carved their five names. The hardest ones to carve, according to Cory, were the names of her twin baby siblings. Simon doesn’t like visiting this area, although he’d never tell her this. It reminds him of his own ineptitude to stop them from being murdered by Peter’s group. Unfortunately for Simon, he is the only one that Sam ever wants to escort her back to visit them.

“I’ll wait over here, Sam, and keep watch,” he tells her to which she nods.

Simon leans against the corner of the barn as she walks a little further to their grave markers and kneels in front of them. He uses his small binoculars to scan the area, especially the woods behind the former horse pasture.

“Hey, Mom,” she murmurs.

This strikes straight to his core, and a chill spreads through him. He wishes that he was standing further away. He’s sure that Sam believes he can’t hear her. She begins by talking about the McClane family and the kids on the farm. Simon walks to the other end of the barn to give her more privacy. He’s not sure he wants to stay for too long because he can’t see her from this side. But he gives her some space. Simon enters the barn next and looks around. He remembers the horrors that took place here. It turns his stomach every time. He walks back toward the house and checks the detached garage. It’s empty still. He wanders to the back of the house again and looks around at the pool area where there used to be a beautiful patio and barbecue for gatherings. He heads back to the barn and takes up a position at the corner again.

“I know I have to tell him soon.”

Simon can barely make out all of her words because they are soft and delicate.

“John has helped me a lot,” she says. “He’s so much like Dad. He’s so smart, too. He knows so much about things, stuff I don’t understand.”

Simon grins and pulls the collar of his coat higher as the light snowfall turns to blizzard-like conditions, making visibility very difficult. She speaks quietly for a while at a pitch that makes it hard for him to make out the one-sided conversation clearly.

“I know what I have to do, but it’s so hard being brave and strong,” she says. “I’ve never been strong, not like you, Mom. I’ll keep you posted on how it turns out. I’m hopeful, but that doesn’t mean anything. Making someone see something they don’t want to see is a difficult thing to do I’m learning.”

She talks for a while longer until she makes her final good-bye again. It makes Simon feel like crap. He doesn’t have anyone but Paige, but Sam lost everyone, and he was a part of it and at the very least at fault for not stopping it.

Sam stands and pulls on her stocking cap again. Snow had fallen on her black hair and dusted the top of her head white. She folds the photo of her mother that she brings every time she visits her gravesite and places it in her coat pocket.

“Ready, sir?” she asks when she is standing before him.

“Let’s get back to the house,” he says. “I don’t think we’re going home tonight, not with this snow.”

They both stomp their feet at the back door, but neither opts for removing their shoes. Her home hasn’t had heat in it for years. Last year he brought her over during the summer, and they’d spent the night then, too, but it had been eighty degrees and sunny.

“Did your family ever use that fireplace?” he asks as he relocks the door and points to the massive stone fireplace in the family room off of the kitchen. She discards her hat onto the granite kitchen counter.

“Yeah, all the time in the winter,” she answers and pulls a dishtowel from a kitchen drawer and pats at her hair. It must feel odd for her being back in a place that is still so familiar to her.

“Where’d your dad keep the firewood for it?” he asks, looking around. The sun is gone, probably for the day, which casts the house in a dark gloom, even with the curtains open.

“In the basement,” she says. “I’ll help.”

“No, I’ll go alone,” Simon tells her. “Stay up here and keep watch.”

“Got it,” she says and sends him a salute. “I’ll dig out matches.”

Simon goes down the basement stairs and through the finished section to a storage and utility area. It’s pitch black, so he is forced to use a flashlight. Even better than the fireplace upstairs is a wood burning stove near the furnace. They have the same setup at the farm in the basement as a backup in case the gas fails. Her father must’ve had the same idea. There is even a firewood chute at the other end of the room. Although not much is in the pile, it’s certainly enough for one night. He stacks some newspaper he finds on a shelf in the stove along with some kindling and a few logs and lights it with his Zippo, something they all carry. He hopes it works, and he doesn’t end up smoking them out. After messing with the fire for a while, it finally catches and snaps and pops to life. The furnace is no longer going to blow the heat upward through the ductwork, but, as heat rises, it will warm up the place.

When he gets to the first floor again, Sam is waiting at the top of the stairs with a nervous expression on her small face.

“What took so long?” she asks.

“You have a wood-burning stove in the basement,” he tells her. “I got it lit, but I’m going to light the fireplace, too.”

“Why don’t we stay in my parents’ room?” she suggests.

“Um…”

“There’s a fireplace in their room,” Sam informs him. “We should light that one, not the one in the living room because we’re not sleeping down here.”

“We’re not?” Simon asks with a furrow of his brow as she picks up her pack from the counter.

“No, way,” Sam answers. “I want to sleep upstairs in a bed where it’s comfortable and I can get warm.”

Simon thinks about it for a minute before saying as he walks around the living room looking out windows, “Yes, that would be a good position tactically. I could see better from up there to keep watch than down here on ground level.”

“Simon,” Sam says dramatically, “We’re hardly in danger here. Nobody’s been here for years.”

“You never know, Sam,” he reminds her.

“Hey,” she says a moment later from the kitchen, “that’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“I always make sure I leave a note here on the counter for my uncle. You know, just in case he’s still alive and comes here looking for us,” she tells him, squatting down and searching around on the hardwood floor with a flashlight.

“And?”

“It’s gone,” she says.

“You probably knocked it off,” Simon tells her as he rounds the island.

“No, it’s not on the floor,” she says. “It’s just gone.”

“We’ll look for it in the morning,” he offers to be kind. “Maybe it blew off the counter in the wind.”

“We always shut the door when we leave, and it was shut today when we got here,” Sam insists.

“Hm,” Simon murmurs. “Everything’s covered in dust. We’ll look when we can see better.”

“’Kay,” she concedes.

“Let’s head upstairs where I can keep watch and get that fire lit for you,” he says.

“Sure,” Sam agrees with a nod and slings her pack onto her shoulder.

He makes a few trips from the basement hauling firewood to the second floor where her parents' bedroom is located. Once he has it lit, Sam removes their food packages and hands them to Simon to place on the fire.

“I’m going out to put up the horses for the night,” he tells Sam a short while later when he returns with a final load of firewood.

“I’ll help,” she offers and stands to pull on her coat again.

“No, stay here,” he says, worried that she’ll get sick from the weather. “Just work on putting together some food for us and I’ll bed down the horses. I think I saw a few bales of straw in the hay loft.”

“Yeah…” she says, her eyes drifting off to nowhere. “That’s where we kept it.”

“I’ll be back,” he says and leaves her.

He jogs to the barn through the snow and leads Sam’s horse into it. He removes the mare’s gear and places her in a stall where she’ll be warm. Next, he leads his own horse in and ties him to the cross ties to remove his tack. His gelding spooks badly and nearly yanks his head free. His soft, brown eyes are wide with fear at something he’s heard, or as it is with most horses when they startle, at something he’s perceived to have heard. He always rides the big gray horse because he’s so quiet and dead broke. He rarely spooks and will do just about anything the rider asks, including going into strange places that most horses would balk at. It takes Simon a long time to get the gentle giant calmed down. He keeps tossing his head and stomping. His behavior leaves Simon feeling on edge, and when he gets him locked away in a stall, he takes a second to look out through the doors and windows of the barn to make sure they are still alone. With the snow, he can hardly see anything, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a predator animal somewhere out there. He climbs to the hay loft and kicks down a bale of straw. Then he beds down both horses with it, spreading it nice and thick. He feeds them cans of oats and a flake of hay each and gets a nicker of appreciation from them. They were covered in a thick blanket of snow, and now he is, too. It’s a blinding whiteout, the kind of weather that he hates. If it doesn’t let up, they’ll have quite a few inches on the ground before morning. He pulls the wide sliding barn door closed, sets the bolt, and heads back to the house.

As he steps inside, Simon can’t help feeling uneasy. He glances over his shoulder a few times, looks out the back patio doors and locks the entry door. Then he stands there peering out into the thick, opaque snow coming down and hoping that the horse hadn’t detected something he can’t see.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Paige

“Man, I hope they’re ok,” she says, fretting about her brother.

“They’re fine,” Cory tells her with confidence. “Your brother called in a little while ago. They’ll be ok till morning.”

“I hope you’re right,” Paige remarks as she pours a scoop of grain to the two dairy cows. Both of them are nursing calves, which are actually pretty adorable, not something she ever would’ve thought she’d say about a cow. She and Cory are the only people still out doing chores since most of them are already done. The calves and the new foal need to be checked on throughout the first few weeks of their lives to watch for sickness. If any of them gets sick, they could spread it to the rest of the animals, which they can’t afford. Reagan told her that one of the geldings had colic last winter and died. It’s not a contagious sickness, but it is a dangerous affliction. She’d volunteered to help look after the baby animals tonight. Anything is better than cleaning up after dinner or sitting around worrying about Simon.

“I’m always right,” he says in a teasing tone.

His arm slips around her from behind, and he buries his face in her neck and hair.

“Cory,” she warns. “Stop.”

“I’m right about us,” he boldly predicts.

“No, you aren’t at all actually,” Paige corrects him.

He releases her and walks away, leaving Paige feeling conflicted about it. When she turns around, he’s gone. She can hear him whistling a tune as he strolls down the aisle toward the back of the big barn. Left with no other choice, she follows him. He turns left and heads toward the area where they are keeping the does who have just given birth. He stops in front of a pen with a nanny and her two, newborn kids, which are also cute. There are bales of hay stacked in the corner, and the space is warm and cozy, unlike the front of the cattle barn or the horse barn, where the doors are left partially open for better air flow. He plunks down lazily on a bale of hay while she watches the mother with her babies for a while.

“Why don’t you bring yourself over here and have a seat?” he asks.

“I don’t trust you. That’s why,” she answers honestly.

“Hey,” he says as if she’s offended him. “I have this notebook I carry with me I want to show you.”

Paige glances cautiously over her shoulder and actually finds him holding a small, three by five spiral notepad.

“What is it? A list of all your conquests?”

Cory laughs loud and obnoxiously. He doesn’t deny it but says, “That’s in another notebook, a much, much larger one.”

Paige shakes her head and goes to him. She sits next to him, but it isn’t apparently close enough because Cory scoots closer until their shoulders are touching.

“Look,” he says, pointing to the book. “I have a list of snares and such that I keep. Which ones work better than others, what materials are best, the different techniques. I thought you’d be able to help since you said that you and your friends had to use animal snares to catch food.”

“Yeah, we did. None of us had guns. I had a bow and arrow for a while. I eventually ran out of arrows, and Gavin whacked someone over the head with it, so it didn’t work so great after that.”

Cory chuckles and says, “Yeah, I can see how that might not help it as far as accuracy goes.”

She grins and nods.

“What’d you use for wire with your animal traps?” he asks.

“Um, well, we didn’t always have a wire to use. Sometimes I just had to use heavy duty string like shoe laces. We found a pair of earbuds for an iPod once. Those worked pretty well. Fishing wire works, too. We used that a few times.”

“Ever do any fishing?”

“Sometimes,” Paige tells him. “When we were around lakes or rivers we’d try our hands at fishing. It wasn’t always successful. We never had a boat or anything. That would’ve been too easy.”

She frowns as she remembers the tough times she and her friends had endured on the road.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he confirms. “But you must’ve gotten pretty good at setting snares. You’re alive. Skinny as hell, but still alive.”

“Shut it,” she warns through gritted teeth. “For your information, I’ve gained weight since I got here.”

He grins lopsidedly and says, “That’s good. Can’t imagine you any skinnier.”

“If you’re trying to be charming, it’s failing,” she reprimands and gets another grin.

“Did you see me kicking you out of my bed, woman?” he asks. “I obviously don’t find you unappealing.”

His words heat her cheeks.

“What do you want to know?” she demands harshly to dissuade further discussion of her figure or their time in bed together.

Not put off or intimidated by her, Cory chuckles again and asks, “What’d you do for the trap itself?”

“I used a knife or Gavin did and we sharpened a hook trigger.”

“How’d you learn how to do this?”

“Library books,” she tells him and gets a smile. “I know it sounds dorky, but it’s not like my family was a bunch of doomsday preppers or something. My life was… much different back then.”

“Is it so horrible now?” he asks and touches the black strings on her wrist, sending a spark of tingles up her arm.

“No, I guess not,” she has to admit and doesn’t like looking directly at him. His brown eyes have become hooded and sultry as his fingers caress her wrist. “What else do you want to know?”

“What types of snares did you use?” he asks as if he isn’t touching her intimately.

“Simple ones, three stick trigger snares, simple snares where we’d tie one end to a small tree and bend it. Nothing elaborate. Nothing professional. It would’ve been a lot easier if I had that .22 rifle I like shooting.”

“Yes, I’m sure it would have,” he says with a warm smile.

He has his hair pulled back into a low ponytail and has shaved his beard again. Paige wonders if he has done so because she made comments about it while they were in the city together. His face is too handsome to hide behind a scruffy beard, although she has noticed that all of the men in the family haven’t been shaving much lately. It’s like they are all preparing for a winter hibernation. Without thinking, Paige reaches up and presses a strand of hair back behind his ear. Cory snatches her wrist and brings it to his mouth where he kisses the place on the underside where her pulse is pounding hard. He doesn’t try to do more but places her hand back down onto her lap.

“And what about larger game?” he asks casually.

Paige swallows hard and says, “Um, larger game? There wasn’t larger game. It was just squirrels and rabbits and sometimes fish.”

She rises and walks to the goat enclosure where she leans over to watch the kids nurse. Cory joins her.

“That isn’t much for food,” he says.

“I know, but that’s all we were capable of,” she tells him.

“No wonder you got so skinny,” he says.

“Well, like I told you before, we were feeding Maddie, too. She had to come first.”

He nods solemnly and frowns. “Tomorrow I’ll take you out into the woods and show you a few more snares that I know. You can show me yours, too.”

“This sounds sketchy,” she comments with a grin and turns around with her back to the enclosure.

“Why?”

Paige laughs, “You show me yours; I’ll show you mine?”

He tips his head back and bellows laughter. “I hadn’t thought of that, but I’ll take you up on it.”

“No!” she says with an outraged giggle. “You need to stay away. Keep your distance.”

“You sure about that?” he asks and leans toward her.

Cory steps in front of her, pressing his hands against either side of the oak boards that make up the pen behind her.

“Are you going to go with Reagan’s dad if he asks?” she blurts. Paige has wanted to ask him this for a while but hadn’t come up with the courage to do so. Also, she’s not sure she wants to hear his answer. Cory jerks his head back in surprise at the question. Then he grins.

“Would you miss me?” he asks and presses forward, his torso touching hers.

“I’m serious,” she states. “Are you going to leave the farm? You did before and for a long time so I hear.”

“That was different,” Cory says on a scowl.

Paige rests her hand against his chest and nods, “I know it was because of Em.”

He doesn’t answer but drops his gaze away and tightens the line of his mouth with distress. She allows her hand to drift upward to the necklace she knows is hidden beneath the layers of clothing he wears tonight. One of his hands covers hers.

“But this is important, Cory,” Paige says, trying hard to distract him from dwelling on his dead sister. “I want to know if you plan on leaving. The rumor is that he’s leaving soon for Fort Knox to find his men and regroup.”

“Do you think I should?” he asks and looks directly at her again.

“Are you serious?” Paige asks with disbelief. “No! No way. I think her dad is an asshole. I think the only reason he came here was to find Sue’s husband and any other soldiers in the area.”

“Maybe we could send Jason with him,” he suggests with an ornery grin.

Paige smirks. Her ex from town is hardly a warrior in anyone’s standards. Cory’s dog has followed them to the barn and is nuzzling her hand gently. She stoops to pet her.

“We’d be better off sending Arianna,” she remarks with humor to which he laughs. “Now answer the question. You’re being evasive.”

“Good!” he says firmly. “You’ve been evading me for weeks.”

Paige frowns and purses her lips at him in anger. She’s been avoiding him because she can’t afford to let her feelings grow toward Cory. Any relationship now is a doomed affair just waiting to happen. He’ll either be killed some day, or the McClane family will be angry with their union, or one of them will contract some fatal illness. It’s for the best if they just let it lie at the one night and move on. He’s not her type anyway.

“Annoying, isn’t it?” he asks rhetorically.

“Answer the question,” she demands.

“I’ll just be glad if the dude gets the hell out of our cabin,” he says, avoiding the question again.

“Will you be going with him when he does?” she repeats. Paige knows that he has to have been thinking about the matter. Everyone’s been talking about, discussing it in big and small groups in the family. The tension in the house has been at an all-time high, and Paige can’t remember everyone being so worried since she’s come to live on the farm.

“I don’t know,” Cory says. “Do I have a reason not to go?”

“Are you kidding me? What about your family? You’ve got Kelly and little Mary. Everyone here seems to depend on you, Cory. Doc says all the time how helpful you are working on the mechanical stuff around here.”

“That’s a skill that I could put to use with Robert’s army, too,” he observes.

“But leaving the family would mean they’d be short one soldier, which means that the farm is more vulnerable.”

“They’ve got you now,” he points out.

She hopes that he’s kidding. He seems serious.

“Yeah, that worked out great the last time the farm was attacked. I was taken hostage. Real asset,” she remarks, giving him a thumbs-up gesture.

He smiles and says, “I meant you’re an asset for stuff like cooking and cleaning. You know, doing the things you should be doing.”

Paige punches his chest, earning a hearty laugh for his chauvinism.

“Maybe I will go with him,” she haughtily taunts, lifting her chin slightly.

His laughter dies immediately, and he says, “No.”

“You don’t own me. I can go with him if I want to. I could be valuable, too.”

“You aren’t joining Robert’s army. I’m not gonna stand by and let that happen, even if it means I have to hog tie you out in the woods somewhere until he’s gone.”

Paige glares at him. He can be so irritating sometimes.

“So you’re demanding that I can’t go, but yet you won’t even tell me if you’re considering it?”

“Pretty much,” he says with an arrogant nod.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Thanks,” he replies with a bright smile and presses a quick kiss to her mouth before she can protest. Then he walks away as if nothing happened.

“You never answered me,” she remarks as they turn off the lights and head toward the front of the barn again.

“I guess I don’t really know what I’m going to do yet,” he says. “I’ll play it by ear until we get more information on the situation. John and Derek are talking about heading north with him to the base just to see what the hell’s going on. Maybe I’ll ride along.”

“Does anyone else know that?”

Cory stops in the dimly lit hall and turns. “I don’t think so. Better not say anything to their wives, Red. Don’t think it would sit well with them.”

“I don’t blame them. I don’t want any of you guys to go with him.”

“Even me?” he teases and takes her hand.

His thumb is rubbing against the top of her hand through her glove. “Even you, Neanderthal.”

He chuckles and slides an arm around her back, pulling her close.

“Good to know,” he mocks.

Then Cory tries to kiss her again. This time, Paige is faster, and someone yelling for them from the other end of the barn interrupts his plans. They break apart and walk toward the barn’s entranceway. It is only Lucas, G’s older brother, who is usually quiet and reserved around them.

“Doctor McClane sent me out to get you,” he says to Paige.

“Which one? Reagan or Herb?” Cory asks as they turn off the rest of the lights and follow him back toward the house.

“Herb,” Lucas answers. “Your friend is having trouble.”

This alarms her. “What friend? Talia?”

“Yes, the pregnant one over at the Reynolds place.”

“Oh, no,” she whispers and runs the rest of the way through the stinging snow.

They drop their boots in the mudroom and head to the kitchen where most everyone is gathered.

“What’s going on?” she inquires without pausing.

“Now don’t worry,” Doc says, holding out his hands to her in a show of calm that she doesn’t feel. “She had Chet call over a few minutes ago. She said she’s been feeling strange all day and that something just doesn’t seem right. I’m going to head over there with Kelly if you’d like to come.”

“Absolutely,” she says quickly.

“Since Simon is away, Reagan will be joining me,” he explains.

“I’ll come, too,” Cory offers.

“That will be just fine, son,” Doc says. “Reagan is gathering our bags, and then we’ll go.”

Paige frowns and looks at her feet. This isn’t good. Talia isn’t far along. She hopes her friend isn’t miscarrying.

“Goodness. Oh, goodness, I pray that she’s all right,” Hannah frets, echoing Paige’s feelings.

Doc lays a hand on top of Hannah’s on the island counter top and says, “She’ll be fine either way. She’s almost four months along. It could just be that she’s been overdoing it. We’ll know more soon enough and call back to keep everyone posted.”

“Thanks, Grandpa,” Sue says.

Derek is on patrol tonight, so she must be letting the kids play in the big house longer before retiring to their own home out in the woods. With this weather, she may want to stay the night instead of trekking through the snow to get home.

Within minutes they are piled into the Suburban and headed to the Reynolds farm. Kelly opted to stay behind since Cory volunteered to take his place. Since the attack on their farm, they are more careful than ever to not allow so many people leave the place at the same time.

They are greeted on the porch by Chet and Wayne, who both shake hands with Doc. Then they leave Cory to hang out with the men while she, Doc and Reagan head inside to find Talia sitting at the dinette set in the kitchen with Bertie, who is holding her hand.

“I’m so glad you came,” Talia says and rushes over to hug Paige.

“What’s going on?” she asks her friend.

“I can’t explain it really,” Talia states. “I keep feeling a tightness in my stomach and sometimes in my inner thighs.”

Paige looks at Doc and Reagan, who regard each other for but a moment before asking Talia to examine her in another room.

“Can Paige come, too?”

“Sure,” Reagan answers.

They go to the back of the house where she and Chet have a bedroom to themselves on the first floor. Maddie sleeps right next door to them on a small bed in what used to be Mrs. Reynolds’s sewing room. They ask her to lie down on the bed while Reagan washes up in the bathroom in the hallway. Paige just holds her friend’s hand while Doc does a thorough examination along with Reagan who checks her cervix.

“I have a good strong heartbeat,” he announces with a smile. “Yours and the baby’s. But I do think maybe yours might be a tad faster!”

He always has to add some humor into the mix. It helps to relieve the tension and allays some of their fears.

“Cervix is closed,” Reagan observes. “Seems normal in size. Without an ultrasound, we can’t be sure of placenta previa, but I doubt that’s what we’re dealing with anyway.”

“What’s that?” Talia asks nervously.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Reagan tells her bluntly.

“I’m picking up a small contraction,” Doc says. “Minor. Did you feel that, Talia?”

“Yes, sir,” her friend answers. “That’s what it’s been doing all day. Not consistently, but it comes and goes.”

“Braxton Hicks?” Reagan asks.

“Possibly,” Doc confers. “Early for that, but every woman is different.”

“What have you been doing around here lately?” Reagan asks.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Talia answers.

“Let’s scale it back a little, ok?” Reagan says gently as she moves to Talia’s wrist and gets a pulse count. Then she listens to her heart and lung function while Doc makes notes in a notebook. “No going up and down the stairs. No carrying anything heavy. Don’t bend and pick up Maddie, either.”

“That’s gonna be hard to do,” Talia says with a smile.

“You may be overdoing it,” Reagan says. “Take it easy. Relax. How ‘bout some bed rest for about a week? Let’s see if it lets up.”

“Bed rest?” Talia asks.

“Right,” Reagan says and looks at Doc, who nods.

Then he further explains while taking more notes, “You may shower and do a little bit like some cooking or chores but only if you’ll be on your feet for less than a half an hour. Then it’s back to the sofa or bed for you, missy.”

“Really? That sounds extreme,” Talia remarks with worry. “Am I going into early labor?”

“Possibly,” Reagan says. “But doubtful. These could just be false contractions since it’s your first pregnancy. It could be your muscles and ligaments stretching inside to get ready for the big expansion. It can feel very uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” she says. “Yeah, it’s weird. I don’t feel like I’m in control of my own body anymore.”

“You aren’t,” Reagan says with a snort. “This little guy is.”

She points to Talia’s stomach, and Paige has to wonder if Reagan’s thinking about the baby growing inside of her own body. She sure doesn’t look pregnant.

“Sorry to bother you guys,” Talia apologizes weakly as they help her to a sitting position again.

“It’s not a bother. Sue and I were just playing a few hands of cards with our husbands. And winning. I’m sure they’re glad I left,” Reagan says. “We don’t want you to do anything that would get you hurt. You’re our top priority. I know it sounds harsh, but that’s the way it has to be.”

Doc interrupts and says, “She’s right. We’ll need you to take it easy. There isn’t a maternity ward around here with the equipment we need for a high-risk pregnancy, so just take it easy. Make the transition on your body smoother, gentler by not overdoing it. You’re going through something very extraordinary right now. People think women just have babies, and there’s nothing to it. It’s a lot more complicated than most people understand. You are going to bring a new life into this world, and we just want you to be safe and healthy, too.”

“Ok,” Talia says gently as Doc lays a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks, Dr. McClane.”

“Rest,” he says with a smile. “Doctor’s orders. Two doctors’ orders actually. You’re getting orders from both of us, and she’s been known to be quite bossy when she wants to be.”

Reagan snorts as she packs their bag again and discards her plastic gloves. They are meticulous about sterility, something for which Paige is thankful.

“How is your father doing, Reagan?” Talia asks.

“Um… fine I guess,” she remarks with a shrug and leaves the room. That’s normal for her, and Paige knows that Talia will not look at Reagan’s behavior as rude.

When they get to the kitchen again, the men have moved inside and are drinking a hot beverage that Bertie has made. Doc takes Chet to the living room and explains the situation. Talia’s new husband seems overwrought with anxiety. Paige sits at the table with her friend and holds Maddie on her lap. Cory just stands near the kitchen door with his rifle slung over his shoulder and his mug in his hand. He laughs at something Wayne is telling him. He’s such a man’s man, so oblivious of tact and grace. He is raucous and brash and very dangerous and not a force to reckon with. But Cory is also highly intelligent and keen. He confuses her every day and has since she first met him.

“Any news on the thief?” Wayne asks Cory, knowing that he has been heading up most of the details that involve catching him.

“Nothing yet,” he answers. “We’ve got the word out. Everyone in town knows about it now, so that should make it easier. Someone is bound to see something sooner or later.”

“Unless the thief has moved on,” Talia offers with hope as the men draw nearer.

“I don’t know if it’s worth anything or not,” Wayne says, “but we heard from a farmer about ten miles from here that a group of maybe a dozen or so men were moving through the other night. He spotted them on the back of his property. Tried to call over this morning on our radio, but the thing’s been buggin’ out. Then this storm blew in. Could be nothing.”

“Could be something,” Cory remarks with deadly intensity.

“Right,” Wayne agrees with a single nod. “Could be the Target group has regrouped and reinforced again.”

“Or the men from the camp down on the river in Nashville,” Talia says, knowing full well what went down on Paige’s trip since she told her everything.

“I doubt if it’s them,” Cory says. “Which way were they heading?”

“East, toward our farms, toward the town,” Chet remarks as he re-enters the room with Doc.

His brother says, “I think we would’ve seen them by now. That was yesterday morning that I talked to Randall. We’ll see. If you hear anything more about it, let us know, and I’ll do the same.”

“If you see them, don’t try to act alone,” Cory says. “Call it in, so we can offer back-up. A dozen is too many for you and the Johnson’s to take on.”

“Especially if they’re armed,” Reagan adds.

Bertie, who is always sweet and naïve, says, “They could just be people trying to get somewhere. We’ve had people pass through like that before. They might not necessarily be bad.”

“Randall said he had a hog missing in the morning and two chickens,” Wayne tells his wife.

“Oh,” Bertie says softly and looks at her folded hands on the table. Paige knows what happened to this family and how hard it was on Bertie. She’s glad her friend is living with her now to offer companionship and help.

“Sounds like we’ve got more than one thief or group of thieves on our hands now,” Cory says, his eyes glazing over with contempt. She hopes for the sake of the traveling thieves that they don’t end up at the business end of Cory’s gun barrel.

They make their farewells and travel back to the farm. They relay the information to John and Kelly, who goes out to find Derek to tell him, too. Cory volunteers to also keep watch for a while, just in case. It’s getting late, so she helps in the kitchen before heading upstairs to bed. She reads a book of poetry for a while until a soft knock at her door forces her back out of her warm bed.

“Hey,” Cory says.

“What are you doing?” she asks nervously, hoping no one has seen him.

“Staying up on watch,” he tells her. “I’ll be patrolling on this floor out in the hall and at the other end of the hall to watch the front of the property.”

“Oh. Good. I’m glad.”

He puckers his lips and cocks an eyebrow, “Let me know if you want me to take a break.”

There is zero subtlety in his suggestion, so Paige rolls her eyes at him and tries to close the door. He just places a palm flat against it to prevent the door from shutting.
“Got your piece?” he asks.

Paige furrows her brow at him and answers, “Yes, on the nightstand.”

“Good,” Cory answers, his tone serious again. He brushes her cheek with the backs of his knuckles, then grasps her single braid and follows it all the way down to the tip. “Be careful. Keep it on you at all times. Don’t want any trouble with this group moving through.”

Paige nods, “’Kay.”

“Good night,” he says and kisses her forehead.

Paige scowls up at him and gets a cocky smirk in return before he pulls the door softly closed. She doesn’t sleep. Instead, she lies awake and worries about Simon and Sam. She’s not sure if they are in the path of those men or not, but she wishes he hadn’t gone at all. She’ll be glad when her brother is home tomorrow.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Sam

She had dinner ready when he came back in from the horse barn. Hannah had made them chicken soup and cornbread. It hit the spot and warmed her considerably. Then she searched the house for anything else they could take back to the farm while Simon stoked both fires and added more wood. Sam found a bottle of bourbon in her father’s office. She dared him to drink a pinch of it. He wouldn’t do it, of course, so she did, which angered him instantly. She coughed and gagged a few times. He grabbed the bottle from her and tried to stow it away. Then so as not to be outdone by her, and because she kept calling him a chicken, he tossed back a double pinch. Then she sipped another swig right from the bottle, and not to be outdone, he took a big gulp. Then he coughed.

“I’ve never been drunk before,” Sam tells him as they climb to the third floor. She also told him that he has to play in the rec room with her, no questions, no backing out, no protesting. It’s her day, and she wants to enjoy it.

“You aren’t going to get drunk on that amount of alcohol,” he informs her superiorly. “And, besides, why would you want to?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “I guess because I’ve never done it, not even when I was in school.”

“I was once,” he admits. “It’s not something I’d care to repeat. We’ll be taking the rest of this bottle home to the farm. Alcohol is better suited to treating wounds than sitting in your stomach.”

“Yeah, that was kind of gross,” she admits. “I thought it would be more interesting than that.”

“Alcohol makes intelligent people do stupid things,” he says as they enter the game room, and Simon places the lantern on a stand. “Case in point.”

“I don’t want to hear your complaints,” she reprimands and turns to look directly up at him. “Tonight, I want to forget the world outside of these walls and just have fun. I don’t want to think about our family’s problems or doing chores or going on runs for supplies or our town. Let’s forget all that. Let’s just be kids again, Simon.”

His eyes take on a pained expression as if he’d like to be pulled into her make-believe game. Then they soften and he nods, which surprises Sam. Maybe she ought to goad him into drinking scotch more often. He rests his rifle against the wall. Both of them still wear a sidearm.

First, they play carpet ball, a reproduction of the one from their church that her father copied and made for the kids. It’s almost like bowling, but both players roll a pool table ball down a carpeted alley at waist height, trying to knock the other player’s balls into a slot. She remembers how competitive her brother used to be with her. Then they play air hockey, but without the electricity working and the table turned on, it doesn’t work out so well. Then they move on to pool. On their third round of pool, Simon starts getting impatient because he’s lost every game so far.

“I win again!” she announces with a bit of gloating.

Simon scowls and says, “I think you’re cheating.”

“How can I cheat? There’s no cheating in pool,” she comments with a smile.

The room is nearly dark with only their single lantern lit. It has significantly warmed up, however, with the fires burning below. They have even removed their coats and hats. Sam took out her braids so that her hair could dry from being snow soaked. Simon kept his fingerless wool gloves on but has stripped down to just his black turtleneck and jeans. She still has on her riding pants since they are dry, but she took off her blue sweater and is only wearing a white silk thermal undershirt. It’s probably slightly sheer, and definitely figure hugging, but it’s not very light in the game room so Simon shouldn’t be able to see anything. Not that he’d look. He’d never look. In her opinion, Simon is a gentleman to a fault. Everything they wore earlier is perched on chairs in front of the fireplace in her parents’ bedroom where they’ll sleep later. She suspects his other clothing got even wetter than hers taking care of the horses, which seemed to take forever. She’d been too embarrassed to admit it, but Sam was spooked by being in the house alone. Too many ghosts and bad memories left her feeling edgy.

“I think you’re one of those pool sharks,” he says, scooting closer until he has bumped her elbow. She takes a shot and misses.

“Hey, back off,” she pouts. “You made me mess up.”

“Concentration, my dear, is the key to accuracy,” he remarks and lines up to take his own shot.

Sam walks around to his side of the pool table and stands directly beside him. Then as he’s about to strike the ball, she bumps her hip against his.

“What the…?”

“You’re right,” she says with a laugh. “You do need to concentrate better.”

“Uh huh, funny,” he remarks while trying to hide a grin.

Their game begins to deteriorate into shameless cheating, moving the other person’s ball, bumping into one another and laughing. It feels good to laugh about something, anything, which is better than feeling sad. She thought long and hard about what John discussed with her, and Sam came to the conclusion that he was right. Whether or not she is ever a victim again is entirely up to her. She’s tired of feeling weak and unable to fend for herself. She’s also sick of being afraid and depressed.

She talked to her mom earlier about killing that man, and she no longer feels that her parents would negatively judge her for doing it. She also spoke to her about the family and the farm. And the biggest reason she wanted to come and talk to her mom was regarding Simon. Sam knows she’s gone, but she wishes that her mother could give her real advice just one more time. It helps to think that she’s watching over her and not about to let her make a stupid, regrettable decision. But the reality is that she is gone, and Sam is going to have to stand on her own two feet and confront her issues without her mother’s sage guidance and counsel.

She found a picture of her mother and father in his home office, one that she must’ve missed when she scavenged for items by which to remember her family. Sam recalls the picture perfectly because she was the one who took it. They were on vacation, at the beach, and her parents looked so happy she made them pose for her. Her mother’s warm smile and her father’s kind eyes come through that picture so well that it inspired her to draw them. She worked on it for a little while when Simon was outside feeding the horses. She can’t wait to show him later. He’ll be glad that she’s not drawing macabre and disturbing images for a change.

“I hope this dumb snow stops soon,” she remarks as she lets him take a shot unimpeded and instead looks out the window.

“I wish it was spring instead of the beginning of winter,” Simon comments.

He has a five o’clock shadow of short, dark red hair on his cheeks and chin. His thick auburn hair on his head is shorter again and has finally dried. He must’ve had Sue cut it, which is a shame because his hair is so thick and the shade so interesting.

“Me, too,” she says. “Lucas and G want me to work with them to learn the horses, but it’s so cold I hate going out in this. The horses don’t appreciate it, either. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll take them on a patrol. It’s the easiest way to learn how to ride.”

“Just jump on and go. Definitely a good way to learn,” he says in agreement. “But not with Lucas.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks as he steps behind her and taps the end of her stick. “Hey!”

Simon chuckles and moves around her to the other side of the table again as she takes aim.

“I don’t think you should work with Lucas,” he says. “Not alone at least.”

“That’s silly,” she says and gently taps her ball into the hole.

“No, it’s not,” Simon argues.

Sam stands straight again and walks around to look up at him. “Don’t be crazy. He’s Reagan’s step-brother. He’s harmless. Trust me. I’d know if he wasn’t. I seem to attract the weird ones.”

Simon looks down at her, his blue gaze intense, leaving her wishing that she could read his mind. They stand there for a long time just staring. He reaches out and touches her hair.

Then he says, “I’m not weird.”

Sam chuffs and says, “You’re not attracted to me, so there ya’ go!”

Simon frowns and says, “I never said that.”

“Yeah, pretty much you have,” Sam corrects him with unbridled irritation. “And often.”

Sam walks away and lines up another ball. She bends over the table and presses the tip of her pool stick against it. Right as she is about to strike the ball, Simon covers her eyes. He retreats and laughs as the ball goes haywire and ends up in the wrong area. She runs over and gives his shoulder a playful shove. He grabs her arm and spins her, enclosing her in a bear hug from behind.

“This is hardly fair,” she complains. If he was another man, Sam might think he was flirting. Then she remembers that it’s Simon.

“I’m just leveling the playing field, you little cheat,” he says against the side of her neck before releasing her.

“Why do you care what I do with Luke?” Sam asks as she skirts out of his reach to the other end of the table and tries not to think about the way he smells or his deep dimples or the clear diction he uses when he speaks.

She strolls around waiting for him to find a shot. The table is a wreck, the balls all out of alignment for anything useful.

“Luke?” he asks and stops what he’s doing. “Now it’s Luke, not Lucas? When did this chummy transition take place?”

Sam chuckles at him and shakes her head. “I even know his pants size.”

“What?” he asks angrily and stalks toward her.

Sam laughs with gusto this time and backs up.

“How do you know that? Care to explain, Miss Samantha?”

“You’re being silly,” she says as he towers over her. “I know everyone’s sizes, or close to them. Anyone who does laundry in the house gets to know everyone’s sizes. I know you’re a thirty-two, thirty-four jeans size. It’s how we keep it all separate. Well, most of the time. There’s always those times when someone gets someone else’s clothing in their basket.”

Simon squints his eyes at her. “And Lucas’s size?”

“Thirty-two, thirty-two, same as John. Except Luke’s pants are not nearly as worn out and holey.”

“Hm,” he harrumphs. “And your size? What’s your pants size?”

“Simon!” she says with mirth. “You aren’t supposed to know that. I’m a girl. We don’t like talking about things like that. It’s very ungentlemanly of you to even ask.”

“Large?”

She punches his arm.

“Munchkin size?”

She attempts to do it again, but he grabs her wrist and smiles. He is strangely at ease and relaxed, which is highly unusual for Simon, especially when he’s not at home on the farm but on a run. His smile is broad and straight, his teeth so white against the black of his turtleneck.

“Small,” she tells him and yanks to be free, but Simon clutches her tightly. This much close contact with him makes her uncomfortable. He does not hold the same feelings dear to him that she feels toward Simon. He still will not release her, and his smile has slid away.

“Look, pint size,” he starts, earning a solid frown from her, “don’t go on rides with Lucas. Someone else can teach him.”

“But that’s my job,” she explains and watches as a tendon in his clenched jaw flexes. He finally lets her go. “I teach everyone now. Reagan hardly has time. Cory’s busy working on tactical training and building stuff.”

“I don’t like that guy,” he remarks rudely.

“Cory?” she taunts and spins on her foot to walk away. He snatches her hand again.

“Not finding the humor,” Simon says tightly.

“Simon,” Sam berates, “that’s so mean. Luke’s been nothing but kind and helpful since they got to the farm. Be nice. What’s your deal?”

“He checks you out a lot,” he finally admits as he stands his stick upright, resting the end of it on his foot.

Sam shakes her head and smiles, “Not true. He doesn’t check me out. He’s just being nice. And you’re being… I don’t know, something.”

He doesn’t answer as usual but stands there another moment staring hard at her. She knows that she’s making him angry by not listening to his demands, but he hardly has a right to make them, either. Simon finally releases her hand and turns to line up a ball. Sam tickles his sides once and retreats to the other side of the table before he can catch her.

“Dirty,” he remarks and takes a shot, and misses. She laughs at him.

“Dirty or just smart?” she asks with a grin. “My shot.”

“Smart,” he concedes and follows her around as she studies the table. “Always smart with you. Smarter than me for sure.”

“Yeah, right,” she says. “Corner pocket. This is gonna be the money shot. You can’t come back from this one.”

Sam lines up and as she’s about to strike, Simon grabs the white cue ball from the table.

“Foul!” she yells at him. “I cry foul, sir.”

He laughs and holds the ball above his head where she can’t reach it.

“Who’s the cheat now?” she asks angrily.

Simon chuckles once more and hands her back the ball. When she reaches for it, though, he won’t release it. Sam grunts and tugs, but it won’t budge from his tight grasp. She looks up at him with frustration.

“You give me that ball, Simon Murphy,” she demands and tries to wedge her fingers under his. He just chuckles at her.

Simon tosses it onto the pool table and at the same time snatches both of her wrists. Sam’s not sure if he’s doing so because he doesn’t want her to fall backward or not. He swiftly takes a big step toward her which causes Sam to bump back against the table.

“Wh…what…?” she stutters.

“How can you say that?”

Sam squints her eyes up at him. “Say what? What are you talking about?”

Simon releases her hands but shockingly slips his arms behind her. He pulls her up against his chest. Her feet barely touch the carpeted floor beneath her.

“That I’m not attracted to you,” he murmurs.

She nervously replies, “Be…because you always push me away. Most of the time you act like you… I don’t know… like you’re annoyed by me.”

“I push you away, Sam, because I don’t trust myself around you,” he says heavily.

His breathing has become shallow and ragged. Simon’s eyes are hooded and dark as if he is drugged. Perhaps that bourbon had turned bad. She knows nothing about alcohol. Maybe it spoiled and is now affecting his brain and his typically rigid self-control.

“Stay away from Lucas,” he orders quietly.

It sounds more like a desperate request, but Sam is slightly angered by it.

“You don’t have any right to tell me that. I may do as I please, Simon, and with whomever I please to do it with.”

“Don’t force me,” he threatens with a shake of his head.

She has no idea what he means. His threat sounds menacing, yet helpless at the same time. Like most things that come out of Simon’s mouth, this is just as confusing as the rest.

“Force you to do what?” Sam wonders.

“This,” Simon answers as his mouth crushes down on hers.

A high-pitched squeak of surprise elicits from her as Simon’s mouth moves greedily over hers. His tongue slips past her lips, and he claims her as if she is his property. This behavior is unfounded from him. He is usually so cautious and reserved, especially around her. He is the master of control and calm. Sam’s insides turn to mush as he continues the onslaught. Her hands rest against his chest, and she can feel the taut, sinewy muscle under his turtleneck. He feels so warm under her hands as if a fever has consumed him. His hands have moved from her back to her waist where he squeezes, but not gently. Then they travel just as swiftly down to cover her bottom as if he is frantic to consume her. Sam’s mind can’t even wrap around this.

“Damn it, Sam,” he says and jerks back, leaving her breathless.

Sam gazes up at him. He has not released her, although his hands having stopped moving on her body. Simon’s eyes are half closed as if he can’t force himself to look at her, his expression tortured and nearly malevolent. It almost frightens her.

“Simon,” she whispers shakily and allows her hand to drift over his heart, which is beating as quickly as hers. He is also shaking slightly under her fingertips. She’s not even sure how her legs have not failed her yet.

He opens his eyes and looks down at her. The heat in his glassed-over gaze is still there. Nobody is interrupting them like the time in the back of the clinic when Reagan walked in on them. He knows it. Sam can see it in his eyes. It’s completely up to Simon where this will go. He seems tormented with indecision.

“Simon,” she repeats and leans up toward him just an inch.

“This is…” he starts, shakes his head but doesn’t finish.

Before he can begin again and remind them of all of his ridiculous reasons for not being together, Sam boldly pulls his head down toward her. It’s all the encouragement he’s going to need because he kisses her this time with a new sense of some entangled destiny. He groans against her mouth as his hands shift again, this time down her sides and over her bottom. Sam softly cries out. As afraid as she is of having sex and the painful memories of what happened to her before, she knows that Simon would never hurt her, not on purpose.

The frantic urgency builds again as his hands roam freely, and his lips move against hers. Then he breaks their kiss and presses his mouth against her neck. He tugs her shirt free of her waistband. She lifts her arms as he pulls it over her head. Simon stops kissing her and leans back. Immediately Sam tries to cover herself, but he drags her hands away from her chest and pulls her closer. His mouth descends upon hers again.

Simon tugs her wrists and winds them up around the back of his neck where he leaves her hands. Sam immediately sinks her fingers into his soft, auburn hair which has curled slightly from being damp. Then his fingertips trail down her bare arms, causing goosebumps to spread and a tingling to begin in her stomach. His long fingers slide deeply into the hair at the base of her neck as he pushes his tongue into her mouth and explores at his leisure. It is short-lived as his hands slide down to cup her bottom before he lifts her. Looking at Simon, people might not think that he is strong, but Sam knows how untrue that is. She’s seen him do all manner of manual labor on the farm, including lifting tractor tires with Cory. They also work out together and run a lot. He may be an intellectual, but his body says otherwise.

“Hold on,” he orders softly as he carries her to the sofa and carefully lays her there. He doesn’t release her but follows Sam down.

She tugs at his shirt impatiently. This wasn’t how she thought their night was going to turn out. She’d anticipated talking with him when they turned in. Now it seems a moot point. This is so much better than talking. She has waited for so long for him to see her, to really and truly see her.

Simon whips his turtleneck off and tosses it to the ground before coming down over her. His skin brushing against hers feels wonderful. A small tuft of brown hair covers the center of his muscular chest. She runs her fingers through it and looks up at him only to find Simon staring at her with admiration.

“You’re so beautiful, Sam,” he says with a scowl as if he finds her impossibly so.

She can’t help but frown slightly and shake her head at his misappropriated words. He traces the line of her jaw and down her neck. Then his fingertips lightly skim the tops of her breasts above her bra, causing her to blush hard.

“Yes, you are,” he reiterates as he slides his hand under her bottom and pulls her up against him.

There is no doubt in her mind now of how attracted he is to her. His desire is pressed firmly against her. It causes Sam to gasp and arch her back. Simon kisses her neck and then the tops of her breasts where he’d just touched. She hooks a leg around his and pulls him closer.

“God, Sam,” he says against her neck. “I want you.”

Simon kisses her again, and this time, there is no holding back. They are both adults now, no longer kids or just friends. She wants him, too. After years of hiding her feelings and then having her feelings rejected, they will finally be together.

She works at the button of his jeans as he slides his hand under her back to the clasp of her bra. His mouth leaves her for a moment. He groans once against her neck.

“Damn it,” he says. “I can’t get this thing.”

Sam laughs softly and tries to assist him. She pulls one strap down over her shoulder, baring it. He immediately kisses there. Then he kisses her mouth again. His hands move over her breasts through her bra. He seems content to abandon the removal of it and has slid down to kiss her stomach. Sam nearly comes off the sofa as his mouth kiss her there, and his hand slides between her legs. For some bizarre reason, Sam thinks she hears the sound of distant whinnying. She used to hear her horses sometimes, even from inside the house.

Next, the sound of breaking glass permeates her thoughts about the horses and even Simon and his attentions. She freezes. Simon continues to caress her and licks her stomach.

“Simon!” she hisses. “Simon, did you hear that?”

He lifts his head and pauses as still as stone. There it is again. Noise that doesn’t belong.

“Put on your shirt, Sam,” he orders quickly and literally springs to his feet.

He crosses the room and grabs his rifle and then his shirt.

“Damn it,” he says, frantically looking around.

“What?” Sam asks as she pulls her shirt down.

“The radio is downstairs in the bedroom,” he says as he pulls her sidearm free and flicks off the safety before handing it back to her. “We have to get down there.”

“Do you think someone’s in the house?”

“Yes.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Simon

Simon runs to the window and looks out. Mostly all he can see is darkness. Then he spots a few men in dark clothing sticking out against the white of the snow. They are moving surreptitiously around the barn while a few others are creeping up to the house at the rear entrance. The noise they heard a few seconds ago sounded like it came from the front door and a window near her father’s office. He grabs Sam’s hand and stalks to the doorway. They slip into the hall that overlooks the floors below. He listens intently as they approach the stairwell that will lead them down to the second floor where her parents’ bedroom is located. Simon can’t believe he’d let his judgment lapse so badly that he left the radio down there. All of his self-control, judgment, and morality somehow just flew out the window tonight. What a fool, an amateur, a novice to put her in danger like this! If something happens to her tonight, he’ll never forgive himself.

“Stay close, honey,” he whispers. Sam is right on his heels and offers a scared nod. He has extinguished their lantern. “We’ve got to get down to the radio.”

“Come out, come out!” someone shouts from below. “We know you’re in here!”

Simon slings his rifle over his shoulder and pulls out his pistol. He flicks off the safety. He has no idea how many men are in the house, but he knows they’re in trouble. A man whistles below as if calling a pet dog. Simon knows it is meant for them. He has no intention of revealing them or surrendering. They are only here for one thing, to rob them, probably kill him, and then take Sam. If they’ve seen them in the woods or entering the house, then they are not going to let them go. There will be no negotiations made. He will have to kill them or be killed. He’s willing to lay down his life for her, but he knows if it comes to that then he’ll have also been defeated, which will mean that they take her. More glass breaks. Another window has been breached. This time, it sounds closer as if it has come from the second floor, possibly Sam’s old bedroom. There’s no time to waste.

“Come on,” he whispers.

He releases her hand and takes a two-handed hold on his Beretta. Simon wishes he had his night-vision gear, but all of his gear is in his pack along with the radio. So stupid.

They creep down the stairs, keeping their backs to the wall. When they come to the landing, Simon peeks around the corner toward the sound of the breaking glass. The hallway is dark but appears empty.

“Hey, kids!” the same man shouts from down below. “We know you’re alone. Come on out!”

His taunting is irritating Simon. He has to be their leader. Simon knows he must take him out, but there are people on the same floor as him that must be dealt with first.

“Come on,” he says to Sam and grabs her hand. They sprint as quickly as they can to the end of the hall and turn right to her parents’ room. Simon shuts and locks the door behind them. “Help me, Sam.”

He manages to push a heavy oak dresser in front of it.

“The bathroom!” she cries and heads that way.

“Where…?” he asks and follows her.

“There’s a door that leads out the other way to the hall.”

He pulls her back as they enter the expansive, long bathroom with his and hers sinks and a walk-in closet. He forgot about this area. A man explodes through the door at the other end of the room, and Simon squeezes off a round. The sound is deafening in the space. Shockingly, he doesn’t go down. He’s wearing a bullet-proof vest and raises his own semi-auto rifle at Simon and Sam. Simon shoots again before his enemy can get a round off, a head shot. The man flies backward and hits the hall wall. Simon grabs his foot and shoves it out of the doorway so he will be able to shut the door. A round hits the drywall near Simon’s head, making a dull thudding sound and sending white dust toward them. Someone else is coming at them. He squats and takes a quick glance. A shuffling noise near the room at the end of the hall alerts Simon. A soft creaking lets him know that a door is being opened. It was her older brother’s room. The man comes out of it silhouetted by the bright snowy backdrop from her brother’s window behind him. Simon takes aim and shoots the man. He stumbles but doesn’t go down. He doesn’t even cry out, but he does return fire. Simon fires a few more times until the man is forced to duck around the corner for cover. There is a dead silence that follows.

“Stay back,” he says to her. Sam doesn’t answer. He whips his head around quickly to find Sam gone. Damn it. The guy in the hall steps on something and swears. Simon squats low again and looks.

“We need help!” Sam is saying in the other room. “Get here as soon as you can. There are men in the house. Simon is shooting at them!”

She must’ve dug out his radio and called the farm. Simon takes aim at the man coming toward him and fires. From his low position and lack of light, he’s pretty sure the guy can’t see him. He clips him in the neck, causing arterial spray to hit the wall. It’s good enough for Simon. He slams the door shut and locks it.

Simon runs into the bedroom and sets his rifle against the fireplace. She is still talking on the radio. For some reason, it’s not working well. It mostly sounds like static. That’s never happened before. He grabs their water bottles and dumps them on the fire to extinguish it. They don’t need to backlight themselves should the men breach the room.

“Simon, it’s not working,” she says. “It’s too staticy to come in. What’s wrong with it?”

“Must be the snow. Damn it.”

The shouting down below continues, followed by laughter and yelling. They are trying to frighten them. Simon picks up her rifle and loads a round into the chamber. Then he hands it to her and takes the radio.

“Base camp, repeat base camp, do you read us?” Simon whispers. “We need to get out of this room. We can’t pick up on a signal. Look, the light’s red. When we catch a signal, it’ll be green. We need it to reach them. We may have to go back upstairs, maybe even to the attic.”

“But they’re out there,” she whispers hysterically.

“I know, but I’m not sure how long we can hold them off, Sam,” he admits, hating how pathetically weak he sounds.

“There isn’t a door to the loft. It’s just open. If we go up there, then we can’t lock them out.”

“It’s a good, high position, though,” Simon explains. Her bright blue eyes are wide with terror. Only moments ago, they’d been soft and dilated with passion. He can’t believe that he let this happen. “If we can get to the attic above the loft, we can call it in and take up a safe position.”

“My dad used to go out on the roof from the attic,” Sam tells him. “There’s a trapdoor or something so he could get up there to work on the roof if he needed to.”

“That would be too dangerous,” Simon says as he unloads his spare mags into his pockets from his backpack. Sam follows his lead and does the same thing. They’ll leave the packs behind. They don’t need to be hindered by them right now, and the only thing valuable to them at this exact moment is the ammunition.

“But we could get down from there,” she explains. “I’ve seen my dad do it many times. You can climb down from the top to the lower roof above the garage and then down to the ground.”

“Maybe,” he concedes. “Let’s just get to the attic first and call the family.”

“Ok,” she whispers with fear in her soft voice.

“Don’t be afraid,” he says. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Sam throws her arms around him and kisses him on the mouth. Simon doesn’t push her away like he normally does. He returns the kiss. It feels desperate this time in a new way, as if it may be the last they’ll ever share. When he pulls back, Simon takes a moment to cup her soft cheek.

Someone kicks at the bedroom door, startling Sam and angering Simon. Thank God her father didn’t skimp in the building process and used solid hardwood, raised panel cherry doors. It won’t budge. He can hear swearing on the other side. He takes Sam’s rifle and fires off about five rounds through the drywall beside the door. Someone screams, but they don’t return fire. It’s a good time to make their escape.

He leads her to the bathroom again and pries open the door. Nobody is in the hallway. They will have to sprint toward the stairs to the loft again and then up to the attic and hopefully not be detected in the dark. They make it to the cross-walk where they could be seen by the man kicking the bedroom door, and Simon risks a peek around the corner before they move forward. There are two of them still trying to kick in the door. Simon hooks his arm behind him and pulls Sam forward and ahead of him. She sneaks like a silent little elf down the hall and to the stairs. Then Simon follows her. Sam is waiting for him on the third step. He holds a finger to his lips and points for her to continue up. As soon as Sam has made it to the loft, Simon takes aim at the men. With a resounding crash, they finally kick in the door. As they fall through it, Simon shoots one to the back of his skull. He realizes it is a woman when she falls forward and hits the door frame. He doesn’t care and won’t lose sleep over it, at least not tonight. She is obviously in on their attack since she was also kicking in their door to get to them. He wastes no time and runs up the stairs to join Sam.

Gunfire soon hits the stairwell, and the rush of feet clamor up the lower level stairs. How the hell many of them are there? Simon shoves the sofa over into the entryway, which will slow them down and disorient their enemy in the dark. He runs over and opens a window all the way, hoping if the creeps below see it that they’ll think they escaped that way. Sam is already at the other end of the long room and opening the door to the attic, which is behind a short wall. Maybe they won’t even discover it. Simon has only been up there once before to gather tubs of clothing and items they could use at the farm. The space only stretches half the length of the home since the game loft takes up most of the possible third-floor living area. Before she even arrives at the stop of the stairs, Sam is back on the radio.

“Keep going,” he whispers to her and gets a nod.

He turns back to the game room and grabs four pool balls. Then he sneaks back down the stairs to see if they are being pursued yet. It looks clear, so he quietly descends a few more steps. When he comes to the landing, he ascertains that the hallway is also clear. Simon rolls three balls down the hall, which causes them to hit the other end of the narrow space and crash with force and commotion into the wall at the end. He rolls two more in another direction, which keep going until they end up rolling down the stairs toward the lower landing. This draws gunfire from the first floor. Then he sneaks back up and joins Sam in the attic. That diversion should keep the bandits busy for a while trying to figure out what’s going on above them.

Simon closes the door quietly. There isn’t a lock on the damn door, which makes him uneasy. He can hear them yelling throughout the house. Some of it sounds angry this time and less like provocation. He assumes they’ve found their dead friends. His only concern is Sam.

“John!” she nearly yells. “Thank God! John, we’re at my house. We’re under attack.”

“Calm down, Sam,” John says over the radio. “Are either of you injured? How many are there?”

“I don’t know, a lot,” she says frantically. “We’re okay. Simon shot some of them. We’re in the attic.”

“Are you in a place that you guys can hold them down for a few minutes?”

She looks at Simon who nods to her.

Simon takes the radio and tells John, “We’re pinned down. If they decide to torch the place, we’re screwed. We’re in the attic, and I think I’m gonna try to get out on the roof to climb down to the ground.”
“We’ll keep an eye out for ya,’” John says. “Be there in a minute.”

They cut the connection and wait. He knows it will take about fifteen to twenty minutes for help to arrive. They don’t have that much time. The pool ball diversion is only going to keep their pursuers occupied for a short period. They will eventually come up those stairs. He also knows they don’t have enough ammo to hold off those people for twenty minutes. They’ll run out. Then it will be over for them, for her.

“I’m so scared,” she whispers.

“Don’t be,” he says and wraps an arm around her shoulders. The attic is cold. It will be considerably colder outside since they don’t have on their coats. Luckily they hadn’t removed their shoes yet since the house still wasn’t very warm. “We’ve got a good fighting position up here.”

“Not if they shoot through the floor,” Sam notes nervously.

“We’re ok for now,” he says. “Let’s hold on as long as we can here,” Simon tells her as he peers out the small window. He doesn’t see the people patrolling the outside of the home anymore. He wonders if they’ve all moved inside.

“Are we going on the roof?” she asks.

“I don’t want to, not with you,” he tells her. “It’s going to be very slippery because of the snow.”

“My dad took me up there once,” Sam explains. “My mom was pissed about it, but I know my way around. It’s not as bad as you think.”

“Show me,” Simon instructs and follows her to another area. She shows him the trapdoor that blends seamlessly with the floor-to-ceiling paneling. “Watch my back.”

He pries the door open because it is stuck from not being used in years. She’s right. It opens onto a flat area and then drops off about ten feet away. He can even see the attached garage roof. From there it’s a short drop to the ground, no steeper than any other standard garage. If he can get them over there, they could maybe make it to the horses. The problem is going to be the steep pitch getting from the house to the garage without falling off the edge or crashing down into the garage roof. And it is all covered with a three-inch blanket of snow, which will make it treacherous. He doesn’t want to stay in the attic with her, though. They need to keep moving, keep putting space between them and the group of people below. It won’t take them long to find them. After a thorough search of the bedrooms and closets and bathrooms, they’ll eventually figure out that there is a third-floor loft. Then they’ll find the attic, and he and Sam will be stuck in a choke point with nothing but tight corners and no way out.

“Let’s go,” he says.

“I’ll go first,” Sam volunteers. “I know the way.”

“Can you carry your rifle on your back?” he asks, hoping she’ll say that she can because if not and he carries it and falls, she’ll have no weapon other than her pistol.

“I think so,” she returns unsurely.

“I’ll watch your back,” he says and stands guard as she goes through. Then Simon follows her and closes the door behind him.

“Get down!” he whispers to her as he spots movement behind the horse barn near the pasture. Sam squats down beside him.

The snow is still coming in thick and wet sheets as he kneels in a pile of it. He pulls his rifle around front and holsters his sidearm. He uses the scope to sight in and take aim. His silencer is attached to the end, so the shot should be whisper quiet with this much weather drowning out the pop. Sam stays perfectly still beside him. She knows what he’s doing. He takes the shot and doesn’t miss. He has more than his fair share of experience in this field. Simon may not like killing people, but he has become quite skilled at it, especially with sniping them. He briefly stops to scan the rest of the area before they move again.

They come to a particularly steep area, and he knows this is where it could get dangerous. Simon encourages her to sit on her bottom and scoot down slowly like him. They go slowly, carefully, and Simon’s heart is pounding out of his chest with worry that she’ll fall to her death or break her neck or be taken by them. Sam sharply inhales and slips, but Simon grabs her arm before she can keep going. He spots more men walking, behind the garage this time, and grips her arm more tightly as he indicates in their direction. Sam nods and stops moving. If they look up, they will surely spot them, especially since he’s wearing a black shirt that does not blend in well with the white snow. They walk on, toward the back of the house and patio. Simon lets out the breath he was holding. They make it to the lower roof line, and Simon holds on to her so Sam can go down backward. He can tell when she gets her feet down onto solid roofing because she stands on her own. He climbs down after her, making a lot more noise when his rifle swings and bangs against the metal soffit. They both pause to ascertain that they weren’t detected before moving again. The garage is still below them. They are on the roof of the family room if he were to guess. He can actually hear the men yelling inside the house. They need to move faster. One glance over at Sam, and he can tell that she agrees.

They slide down quickly to the garage roof. Simon shows her how to sit down and straddle the edge with one leg on either side of the ridge. Suddenly, only a few feet into their trip, Sam flattens forward onto her stomach and doesn’t move. Simon does the same, figuring she’s seen something. She resumes her scooting action but moves more stealthily. They make it to the end, and without instruction, Sam swings her leg over and slides down on her stomach. Simon joins her until they come to the edge where the down spouting starts.

“Don’t hold onto that,” he whispers to her and points at the downspouts. “It may not hold you.”

“I’m not a size large,” she hisses at him with a grin.

Simon chuffs softly, surprised that she can tease at a time like this. He nods and says, “I’ll lower you down.”

Sam offers a nod and takes his hand. He looks around again to make sure they are alone. Then he squats. He’s not sure if he can lower her without knocking Sam into the garage wall or hitting the down spouting and making a racket should she start swinging.

“This isn’t gonna work. Let me get down first,” he says. “I’ll reach up for you.”

Simon checks again before he allows himself to drop to the ground. He lands funny and twists his ankle. There’s no time for dealing with it now or whining about the injury. He has to get her down. He reaches up and takes her legs as she comes over the side. As she slides farther down, Simon wraps his arms around her waist until her feet on the ground.

“Let’s go!” he whispers in a rush as he hears more shouting inside the house. They are upstairs in the loft. He can see flashlight beams bouncing around up there.

They jog to the barn where he doesn’t see anyone else. The man on patrol must’ve gone toward the house. As he opens the wide barn door, the same one he just closed to lock the horses down for the night, he feels someone punch his left shoulder. Then Sam’s yelp hits him.

“Simon!” Sam screams.

She spins and shoots her pistol twice. He turns to offer backup with his rifle, but his arm is too weak suddenly to lift the heavy gun. There is a man on the ground behind them.

“I got him,” she announces and shoves Simon into the barn.

“Someone punched me,” he says.

“Simon, you’ve been stabbed! He stabbed you in the back. I saw it at the last second,” Sam exclaims and pulls the door closed again. “We have to get out of here.”

He stands there in a daze, not certain what to do. He’s not sure if he is in shock or what’s going on, but life has turned into a slow motion picture reel, even though he knows he must move quickly. Sam runs to her horse’s stall. He’s just surprised both horses are still in their stalls and not stolen by those men. Maybe they didn’t know how to saddle them. He has no doubt they planned on doing so. She quickly pulls on her mare’s bridle and tugs her free of the stall.

“Come on!” she yells at him as she leads the horse to the back of the barn where they can exit to the broad pasture area through another door.

Simon stumbles after her as she takes the mare outside into the snow. His horse is stomping in its stall. He reaches for his own bridle on the rack.

“Leave him,” she calls. “Simon, let’s go!”

He snaps out of it and jogs to her. Sam is already mounted before he even gets the door open all the way.

“Give me your rifle,” she says and slings it over her shoulder.

He’s not worried about her riding in front. Sam is way better with the horses anyway. She should be the one to control the horse in this type of situation. He just feels reluctant to leave his own. They could burn down the barn, shoot it, or take it and escape.

He rushes to her and takes her small hand in his for a boost onto the mare. They are going to be riding bareback, not something he’s so great at. Simon has difficulty swinging up behind her. His left arm is stinging, tingling and going numb.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Cory

John is driving, flying would be a more accurate description, especially with this snow storm. Chet Reynolds and two of the Johnson boys are following them in their truck.

“This is fucking bullshit,” Cory growls angrily. He’s riding in the back. Derek and Kelly are in the Suburban, as well. They aren’t sure how many men are attacking Samantha’s home, but it sounded bad. They’ve left Reagan, her father, Doc and Sue at the house to keep watch. They’ve also armed Justin and Huntley, who are both great shots for being such young kids. This is the same shit that happened before when the guys were fighting the Target group while he was gone. They don’t want the assholes flanking them and attacking the farm while they are on their way to kick their asses. With her father there and Sam’s home not far from the farm, they made a quick decision for all four of them to go together.

“No shit,” Derek says. “This is crazy. Who the hell would be after them?”

They were out the drive within minutes, but to Cory, it seems to be taking forever to get there. The weather has turned to shit. John has nearly zero visibility on the back gravel road. They are armed to the hilt and ready to take on just about anything.

“We’re less than three miles from there,” Kelly says. “Everyone stay cool. We’ll have to par…”

Suddenly John hits something in the road, interrupting Kelly’s planning. And he hits it hard, causing them to careen sideways on the snow-covered gravel road and be slammed into from the rear by Chet who is driving the other vehicle. John tries to maintain control, but with the snow and mud, they slide into a ditch.

“What the fuck was that?” Derek yells as they come to a jarring stop.

“Bear,” Kelly says.

“Yeah, it was a bear, a black bear,” John says. “Everyone ok?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Cory says as they exit the vehicle, which now has smoke coming from under the hood.

“Damn it,” Kelly swears as he opens his door.

Cory has to climb out Derek’s side because his door is pinned to the steep, dirt bank beside them. John has to do the same in the front seat.

“Son of a bitch,” Kelly yells as they regroup with their gear.

Chet runs over to them, “Sorry, man. Everyone ok?”

“We’re fine. You guys?” Derek asks.

“Yeah, but the truck’s fucked, man,” he says. “It won’t restart.”

“And ours isn’t comin’ outta that ditch,” Kelly says, observing the wreckage.

He’s right, though. The SUV is buried in the ditch nearly three feet up its side. There’s no way they’re digging it out without Doc’s tractor.

“Goddamn it!” Derek yells. “Everyone, move out! We’re runnin’ in.”

They grab their packs and wait for Chet’s group to do the same. Some of their items are scattered on the road since their cargo was in the pick-up truck bed.

Without question, Cory starts jogging without them. He isn’t about to leave Sam and Simon with their asses hanging out in that mansion. Those bastards could burn down the house to force them out. Once his friends run out of ammo, their situation could become unconquerable. He just hopes that hasn’t happened yet. His thick lug sole boots stick to the gravel under the snow, allowing him to run at a relatively fast pace. John jogs beside him. There is a trickle of blood running down his friend’s forehead that he whisks away with the back of his glove. Derek and Kelly are right behind them. Chet’s group is slightly slower but still coming. Three miles is nothing to them on a run, but the snow, the deep darkness of the cloud-covered night, plus getting their nerves rattled by the accident is wreaking havoc on the group. Fucking up their exit plan and their only ride in and back out wasn’t a part of the strategy they discussed while gathering their gear in the shed.

“What the hell kinda’ dumb luck was that?” Kelly asks behind them. His brother is not winded. None of them are.

“Some bullshit bad luck is what it was,” Derek says.

“Can you handle this run, Derek?” John asks his brother and wipes at his face again. “Not too hard on you? I know you’ve got an arthritic knee.”

“And gout,” Kelly joins the teasing of Derek.

“And hemorrhoids,” Cory adds.

“The only hemorrhoid I’ve got right now is the three of you idiots,” Derek jokes in return as John wipes his forehead again.

Cory hopes he’s all right. He must have hit his face on the steering wheel pretty damn hard to have his forehead keep bleeding like that. He wonders if his friend needs stitches. Head wounds always bleed a lot.

“Too bad we don’t have time to track that bear,” Cory remarks. “I could use another bearskin rug. Doc stole mine.”

That’s not actually true, and they all know it. He gave Doc the rug for his office because he knew he’d always wanted one.

“Maybe we’ll find it in the morning,” John says.

“When we get there,” Derek interrupts them, “John, you take point with me. Kelly, you pair up with Cory and flank. Chet and his group can come in from the south.”

They all agree to the plan, which is the same one they’d already thoroughly discussed, and keep running. They are wearing dark clothing, face grease, and black stocking caps. If they had winter combat gear, it would’ve made this a lot easier, but since they don’t, they are forced to go dark instead. They also wear their night-vision headgear.

“John, come in!” Sam’s little voice comes across the radio.

She sounds terrified, which pisses Cory off. He’s sure it’s angering his brother and the others, too. Sam doesn’t deserve to be terrorized by assholes.

His friend removes the radio from the cargo pocket in his black pants and says, “Go ahead, Sam.”

“We’re in the woods behind the barn. They are all over the place looking for us,” she whispers. We got out of the house.”

“Good, kiddo,” John praises. “Stay out of sight. We’ll be there in a few minutes. We had a bit of a delay. It’s going to take us a little longer to get there. Keep moving if you can. Tell Simon to come toward us. We’ll be coming in through the forest across the road from your house.”

“Ok, but that’s going to be hard to do. They’re everywhere, all over the place,” she whispers. “I’ll try, but we’ve got our own problems.”

“What’s wrong?” John asks with worry clearly audible in his voice.

“Simon’s been stabbed,” she says.

“Stay safe. We’ll be there in twenty,” John says calmly without missing a beat, although Cory knows he must’ve felt the same punch in the pit of his stomach that he did. He just didn’t want to scare Sam with a lack of confidence and a tenor filled with angst.

“Sons-a-bitches,” Kelly remarks behind him as they all pick up the pace.

“These assholes just fucked with the wrong people,” Derek says, sounding uncharacteristically hard.

“You got that right,” Cory concurs.

They run as fast as they can where the terrain allows for it and cut into the woods about three-quarters of a mile from their destination.

“Careful,” Kelly warns their group. “Don’t shoot our kids. They could be over here in the woods with us now. Keep an eye out.”

Chet and his group agree and spread out slightly. Cory and Kelly take the lead to the edge of the woods where the neighborhood and blacktopped road starts. Of course, these days it’s hard to even see the blacktop. Even without the snow, most roads look like hay fields or flooded over ponds with murky, dark water and algae. The run in seemed to have taken forever. He hopes Sam and Simon are still safe.

They creep toward the brick wall of the house across the street from Sam’s. They all take a knee and regroup. There is enough landscaping, all of which has become overgrown, wild and unkempt with the passage of time, to provide a deep camouflage from prying eyes. They pull their binoculars from their pockets and spy on the house party across the street. Her home sits back slightly from the road, further than the one where they are hidden so well from the enemies’ eyes. The driveway gate to her home was smashed down long ago, so anyone could drive up to the house. He doesn’t see any cars, though. These people must’ve been moving on foot. He wonders if it’s the same group that robbed the farmer a few days ago that Chet and Wayne told them about. John tried calling Simon earlier this evening to warn them just in case, but they hadn’t picked up the radio. None of them thought this would happen, or they would’ve gone to Sam’s house earlier and brought them back home and out of potential danger.

He can see flashlight beams in the home and moving around on the grounds of the estate. There is laughter, yelling, some angry, and all and all a bunch of sloppy, unprofessional fuckwhits that are about to meet their maker.

“Got seven,” Kelly says.

“I counted nine,” John corrects him.

“Good odds,” Chet Reynolds remarks.

A shot rings out, surprising Cory. A man falls off the roof of the detached garage to the frozen, snowy ground below it.

“Simon,” he and John say at the same time. Then his friend bumps his fist in the dark.

“Shot came from those woods over there behind the barn,” Kelly says. “Watch out for the kids,” he warns Chet and the Johnson men. “They’re obviously back there in that wooded tree line.”

“Got it, Kel,” Chet says.

Derek says, “Let the Professor know we’re here so he doesn’t shoot us.”

John calls him again, gets an answer, and cuts the comms with Simon until they are in control of the situation a little better.

“Let’s roll,” Derek orders and stands.

They spread out, some jogging down the street keeping close to the tree line and houses. He and Kelly sprint directly across the road toward her house. John and Derek jog to their left so that they can sneak in toward the circular drive and go through the front doors. They all know Sam’s property pretty well. They have looted this neighborhood many times over the years, including her home, barn, and garages. There is a four car detached garage off to the right of the home in the front yard area that connects to the circular drive. She said her father liked cars and boats and kept them in there. Cory never saw anything in his garages. They must’ve been stolen at the beginning. Kelly flattens his back against the brick wall of the massive garage, and Cory steals a peek around the corner.

Shots are fired from John and Derek’s position near the front. They shouldn’t have reached the inside of the house yet so they must be killing people outside or they’ve been spotted.

They catch a guy at the end of the garage with his back to them. Kelly takes him out with his knife and drags the body into some bushes while Cory covers him. Then they jog to the rear of the house. Somewhere down the road to their distant south, there is shooting. He hopes it is Chet’s group taking out more assholes.

Cory presses his back to the wall where the double doors lead inside from the stone patio. Kelly does so on the other side of the door. Cory knows there are men inside because they are noisy and boisterous. Just as they are about to cross the threshold of the open door, they both stop because they hear women, too. His brother’s mouth forms a tight line.

“Women inside,” Kelly warns in his mic.

“Take them out,” Derek orders. “They’re with them. Just met one who took a shot at us.”

“Fuck,” his brother whispers.

A bullet whizzes past them through the doorway. They know where they are. Their position has been compromised. Kelly points two fingers past Cory, meaning to head in that direction. Then he signals that he’ll go in the opposite direction behind him. They’ll have to split up until they get inside. Kelly busts out a window and fires a few rounds into the house. Cory goes to the side of the house and finds a window already broken into pieces. This is probably how they got in earlier. He’s not sure how someone was able to sneak up on Simon, though. His friend is usually much more difficult to fool and so overly cautious that he can be annoying about it sometimes.

Cory risks a quick glance and finds the room empty, the first-floor laundry. He pulls himself up onto the ledge and is inside a moment later.

“I’m in,” he says into his mic.

“You’re the only one,” Derek returns. “Use extreme caution. You’re in there by yourself for now.”

“I work better alone anyway,” he jokes.

He does actually work well alone. He did so for nearly a year out in the world, but that was usually different. He didn’t break into a house full of bandits by himself. If he took people on, he preferred to do so in much more open quarters. No matter, Cory creeps quietly into the hallway where he finds a man who is tapping his toe with nervous agitation against the hardwood floor. Not too ingenious on his part. Cory slips his dagger loose and stabs the man in the liver while holding his hand over the dude’s mouth. Then he drags him into the laundry room where he finishes him off by stabbing him directly to the heart. Cory wipes the blade on the man’s coat, closes the door and moves to the hall again. He’s pretty sure if he goes left it will take him to her father’s office and right will take him to the kitchen. He needs to go that way to take out whoever it is that has his brother pinned outside. The idiot is popping off random rounds and shouting about what a badass he believes himself to be.

It doesn’t take long to find him, either, as Cory silently stalks to the kitchen. The man is in the attached living room.

Cory whispers to gain the thug’s attention, “Hey, cockknocker.”

The man spins quickly with his revolver raised but is too slow. Cory plugs him in the chest. Then he realizes that the asshole has on body armor and shoots him again in the forehead.

He rushes to the back door, “Kelly, you’re clear,” he says into his mic so his brother doesn’t plug him.

Kelly comes in, and they move together.

“That asshole has on Kevlar,” Cory says quietly. “And some sort of night-vision gear.”

Kelly says into his throat mic, “They’re wearing Kevlar and some have night-vision toys.”

“Affirmative,” Derek returns.

“Laundry room on the south wall is clear,” Cory tells John and Derek so they can also breach.

A man comes running down the stairs, “Lyle, we gotta split. There’s a bunch of dudes comin’ from down the road.”

“Bummer,” Cory jeers and points his weapon at him, almost touching his chest. The guy nearly pisses himself from being so badly startled. Cory notices that the man only carries a machete. “Too late. Think I killed Lyle already. Gonna have to find someone else to keep you warm at night, fuck-face.”

Kelly ties him with zip ties and punches him hard enough to knock the skinny man out. Then he hauls him into the formal sitting room and ties his feet, too. They’ll need him for questioning later.

A loud crash below them in the basement draws their attention. John and Derek meet them in the kitchen.

“This floor’s clear,” Derek tells them. “Someone’s downstairs.”

“We’ll check it out,” Kelly volunteers. “You guys take the second floor.”

“On it,” John offers.

Cory notices before they leave that John’s forehead is still bleeding. Reagan is going to have a fit.

He and Kelly descend cautiously into the basement, walking into near pitch darkness. Without their night-vison gear, they’d be screwed. Waving around a flashlight going into a space like this is a sure way to get shot.

“Let’s go, man,” someone says from the far east corner. They pause on the stairs to listen a moment. “You heard him. Mike said to get it lit.”

“Yeah, we’ll burn those assholes out,” the other says. It’s a woman.

This doesn’t disturb Cory. She is obviously on the same team as the men with whom she’s traveling if she wants to burn down Sam’s house just to get them to come out. They obviously haven’t realized that it isn’t just Sam and Simon that they now have to contend with, but a full battalion of backup.

“Hold on,” she says. “I wanna’ make sure this fucker burns down.”

“I’m going over in the next room to get that sleeping bag,” he tells her. “I ain’t sleepin’ on the ground no more without one.”

“You do what you want,” she says with disdain. “I sleep with the boss, so I always sleep like a baby. Besides, if we catch that girl, I’m taking whatever she’s got, too.”

“You’re one mean bitch,” the man says. “I’m gettin’ that bag. I’ll meet you upstairs.”

Kelly indicates that he’ll head to their left. Cory nods and goes right. The woman doesn’t even see him coming because she is too busy trying to jam cardboard boxes, debris, and a blanket into the wood-burning stove that Simon must’ve lit earlier. Cory takes her out with a single gunshot. Kelly, on the other hand, must have been discovered because there are the sounds of a skirmish coming from the other side of the basement. He rushes over there to find his brother on the ground and a man standing over him. Cory shoots the guy point blank in the face. He helps Kelly back up. His brother’s sidearm was drawn. The man’s life was only mere seconds from being ended by Kelly, too.

“What happened, old man?” Cory teases as they search the rest of the basement. “Getting rusty?”

“I tripped on some loose wiring. Someone must’ve been cutting the wiring out down here and left it lay in a big, fucking mess.”

“Amateur,” Cory says with a laugh. “So all that noise was just you falling?”

“Guess so,” he admits.

“Damn, bro. You might need to go on a diet, you fatty,” he jokes, getting a punch to his shoulder from his big brother. Kelly is hardly fat. He’s solid muscle. Even Hannie’s great cooking hasn’t changed that, but it isn’t going to stop Cory from messing with him.

They head back upstairs after extinguishing the fire and searching the rest of the basement.

“We’re behind you,” John says into his mic.

Derek and John come up beside them near the front foyer.

“Nobody was upstairs by the time we got there,” Derek tells them. “I think they escaped to the roof.”

“Time to engage in some outdoor hunting activities,” John suggests with a smirk.

“Chet’s men are working the garage area and watching our front,” Derek explains as they cautiously move to the back door. “We’ll head out the back together and split up. Kelly, you guys take the barn and push toward the woods. Watch for the kids. They might still be back there. John and I will head east. They can’t be allowed to escape. They’ll fuck with our neighbors and the people in town if they get that far.”

“How many did you take out?” Cory asks quickly.

“Two,” John answers.

“Four,” Kelly explains.
“We better get busy,” Derek orders.

“Yes, sir,” Kelly says.

Cory risks a look outside through the living room window. Even with the night-vision gear on, it’s damn near impossible to see anything with the snow coming down so hard. Christmas is only a few weeks away. There is no way in hell that his friends aren’t going to be there to see it.

“What’ve you got, Stalker?” John asks as he comes over next to him near the window.

“Not a shittin’ thing, Doc,” he says to his mentor.

“Well, then what are we waitin’ for?” John jokes and ushers Cory forward with a wave of his hand.

“Let’s roll,” Derek says, and they pass through the back door of the house, each group going their own way with enough practical precision that even General Patton himself would be proud.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Sam

She has no idea how this night turned so bad so quickly. Sam couldn’t have predicted any of this when they left the farm earlier today. Simon had actually flirted with her and then kissed her. And then, even more had happened. The thing she has wanted to happen between them was finally going to happen after waiting so long for him to come to his senses. But it was all ruined by these jerks who are stalking them. Why are they doing this? What could they possibly gain from robbing two young people?

“Stay down, Sam,” Simon whispers. “I can hear them at the bottom of the hill.”

“I am,” she says. “How’s your wound?”

“I’m fine,” he evades. “Ok, let’s move.”

They shimmy down the other side of the hill just slightly until they can get to their feet. She left her horse, and they are moving around on foot. It’s not ideal, but they can’t sit on top of the horse and become a larger, moving target. They’d watched the bad men scatter like rats out of the top of the house just like they had when they were being pursued. She hopes the family and their allies who have come to their rescue are all safe and that they’ve killed some of the jerks in her parents’ home. Simon managed to get off one single shot that disabled a man on the roof of the garage, but that was all he could manage with his arm so severely injured. She’s not as skilled with long-range shots. He still holds on to his rifle but has drawn his pistol instead. She also has her own at the ready.

Sam stumbles over a root and falls to her knees. Simon helps her back up. Then he pulls her close and holds his hand over her mouth. She knows he’s heard something again. Those men are all over the woods looking for them now. She and Simon hide behind a thick oak tree and thorny, prickly bushes that no longer provide additional camouflage because their leaves are gone.

“Over that way,” Simon points.

Sam sucks in a breath because she can see blood running down and plopping onto the snow-covered ground from his fingertips. She is so worried about him. A million ideas are flying through her mind at once. She wonders if he could have some sort of permanent paralysis in that arm from severe nerve damage or if he’ll bleed to death before they get out of this horrible situation. He’s too young, and good, and valuable to the family to die. She would have to die soon after because the thought of being without him, without having Simon in her life is completely unbearable.

“I see,” she says to him. And see she does. Four men are moving around in the dark, their silhouettes lit by the faint light of the moon that just barely peeps through the heavy cloud cover. There are too many for them to fight. They barely have any cover for a firefight, and those men are coming straight at them and are less than forty yards away. They are moving fast, and every one of them carries a weapon.

“What are your positions? I’ve got four men coming straight at us,” Simon whispers into the radio. “I’m gonna have to take a shot. They aren’t stopping.”

“It’s not us, Professor, but we’ll back you up when we get there,” Cory says to him.

“Sam, come on,” he pleads urgently and drags her by the sleeve of her wet shirt further into the woods. “We need better cover.”

They jog away, trying to be quiet so as not to take a bullet in the back.

“Over there!” one of the men shouts.

“Hurry,” Simon orders as they run as fast as they can without slipping in the snow.

They come to a slightly less dense portion of the forest, not exactly helpful in their current situation. She wishes it was daylight. They could run to another house in the neighborhood and hide there or take up a good fighting position from the top floor. The sound of a dog barking startles her as Simon grabs her hand and tugs her in another direction.

He finds a pile of thick tree trunks- some with their roots still attached- and huge logs and stumps that someone must have cut at some point. It’s covered in snow, but as long as they won’t get flanked, it should provide some protection in a firefight. He leads her around back, and they are able to crawl down inside of it. She just hopes it isn’t the home of a bear or a wolf or something equally frightening. They squat down and prepare to fight it out with those men.

“Keep your head low. Take deep breaths. Stay calm,” he orders in rapid succession. “Only take a shot if you’re sure of it. We can’t afford the ammo.”

“I know what I’m doing,” she says.

“Help me, Sam,” he says. “I need you to prop my rifle here between these logs. I can’t hold it.”

“Yes,” she murmurs with fear in her heart for him.

“Use your rifle until you can’t,” he says. “Let them get closer for the pistol.”

Suddenly a crashing sound breaks through the brush right in front of their log barrier. A large dog, barking and snarling jumps onto the higher logs above them and growls menacingly. Sam screams from being startled so badly. Simon is busy getting his rifle aimed at the crowd of men approaching. He quickly reaches for his pistol that he’d just holstered.

As the animal leaps into the air with every intention of attacking them, Sam instinctively shoots it with her rifle. It whines loudly, a yelping, pitiful sound as it falls into their pit with them. Her eyes widen. Simon finishes it off by placing another round in the animal’s heart.

“Aw,” Sam cries out. “I didn’t want to.”

“It’s ok,” he says and holds onto her shoulder for a moment. “Forget it. They’re coming. That dog was with them. I’m sure it was trained to kill.”

“Damn,” she swears and doesn’t care what Simon thinks of it. She’d much rather shoot another bad person than an animal any day. This poor dog never meant to be malicious and dangerous. Someone, those jerks pursuing them, trained it to be this way. If she was hesitant about shooting any of them before, she isn’t anymore.

She turns around and places her own rifle on a sideways log and squats low. Within a few minutes, the men are coming over the same small crest they traversed down before entering the clearing.

“You take one,” he says. “I take one. Then they’ll scatter. Don’t let them flank us. If anything, we need to push them back.”

“No,” Sam agrees. “You’re right. They can’t get behind us.”

“Deep breath,” he says. “Wait for my order.”

“Just say when,” Sam says with a newfound courage she hadn’t possessed a few minutes ago.

She can hear shooting in the distance, too. Someone is firing weapons to their south. Their family must have split up into groups.

“I know you’re wounded, boy!” one of the men calls out. “Come on out and I won’t kill you!”

Simon doesn’t answer, but neither does he cower.

“Your friends are all dead,” the man calls. “Caught them in the house and killed them!”

Sam looks at Simon, and he shakes his head. He obviously thinks the man is bluffing. She’s not so sure.

“Come on out now with that girl and we won’t harm you,” the man lies.

“Yeah, right,” Sam scoffs.

“Nobody else has to die,” he yells. “I might even let you join our group.”

“As if we’d want to,” she whispers.

“They don’t want us to join them. They want to kill me and take you,” Simon relates with a deadly, underlying menace in his tone.

“Not happening,” Sam promises.

The man continues shouting empty promises, “Come out now or we’ll have to hunt you down. If you make me track you, boy, I’ll kill you.”

“This prick’s going to be the next one dead,” Simon swears, surprising Sam that he’d be so crude.

“You the same assholes who attacked my compound last summer?” the man yells angrily.

Sam can’t tell where he is exactly. He isn’t one of the four coming at them. He’s somewhere behind those men if she was to guess in the denser protection of the tree line.

“Real fuckin’ mess you assholes caused,” the man yells. “Been checkin’ around. You McClanes are real pains in the ass!”

Sam looks nervously at Simon. These people know them? She has no idea how that could be possible. They live so reclusively other than their visits to their own town to help their community. She wonders if these men could be the ones robbing the town.

“Got my buddies comin’ in behind you, too,” the leader calls out. “Figured you might try running that way next. Just throw down your guns and come out and talk like a man.”

“Crap,” Simon says with panic. “Prepare to take a shot. Ready?”

“What?” Sam asks frantically and lines up.

“If he’s not lying, we’re about to get flanked. Ready?”

“Yes,” she states firmly and sights in on a man coming toward them. He probably doesn’t think they can see them, but Sam can. The brightness of the snow is providing a natural lighting source behind them.

“Deep breath,” he whispers, and Sam obeys. “Fire.”

They both squeeze their triggers at the same time. Simon’s shot takes a man down. Hers causes another to stumble. She shoots again, and the man falls but crawls away as his friends spread out in a panic. Sam shoots again, hitting the man, who no longer crawls or moves. Simon was right about them fanning out after the shooting starts.

“We’ve lit ourselves up,” he says. “If they are comin’ in behind us, keep your head down. I mean way down, Sam.”

“’Kay,” she says as fear returns.

“Give me your rifle. Watch my back,” he says. “I’m gonna lay down some suppressive fire.”

Simon does just that and pops off five rounds in quick succession as she uses her sidearm to cover them from a rear attack. She doesn’t see anyone, but a shot does come from behind them, hitting one of the stumps with a dull thud. She squeals and ducks lower.

“It’s ok,” he says. “I don’t think they can’t hit us. There're too many of these logs in front and behind. Just stay down.”

More gunfire comes at them, this time from the front. Sam instinctively flinches and hunches lower. This would be so much easier with their night-vision gear, but that is back in the house in their bags. Simon fires off a few more rounds and switches to his long-range rifle again.

“Got you, punk,” he says.

She has no idea about whom Simon is referring, but he fires.

After a moment, Sam asks, “Did you get him?”

“Yes,” Simon says and lowers back down as more shots come toward them. “The weapon always speaks with authority. I still want to get their leader.”

“Good,” Sam says as a barrage of automatic fire hits the front logs, splintering pieces into the air and mixing with the falling snow. She squeaks again. Simon’s gloved hands come down on the top of her head as he holds her in place. He inches closer and attempts to cover her with his body. The shelter of his upper body and arm will likely not stop a bullet from hitting her, but it must make him feel better to do so. It makes her feel a lot safer.

After a moment of continuous fire, there is a break, and Simon takes full advantage and shoots to the rear. A scream of agony assails her ears. She’s just glad it’s not one of them.

“Comin’ in to your east, Professor,” Kelly says on the radio.

“We’re just inside the tree line pinned down in a log pile,” Simon says quickly into their radio.

“We know. We’ve got ya’ now,” Kelly informs them. “Stay down. We’ve got this. Chet’s comin’ in from the west with some crossfire.”

“Affirmative, sir,” he answers.

They wait as gunfire comes at their pile of logs at a near constant pace. It doesn’t take long before they can hear men yelling and running quickly and more gunfire. She knows their family has them scattering. Simon, however, does not feel any relief because he does not get off of her. She tries not to look at the dead dog near her right leg. That’s going to bother her for a long time to come. He was just an innocent animal.

“See us in the field, Professor?” Cory asks in the radio. “Try not to shoot us.”

“Roger,” he answers.

Within a minute, Sam can make out two, shadowy silhouettes in the dark against the snow. Kelly and Cory climb down into their makeshift log foxhole with them a moment later and raise their night-vision goggles. Kelly has Simon turn slightly so they can see his stab wound. Then he nods to Cory, which means nothing whatsoever to Sam. Cory rests his gun against a log and whips off his coat. Then he wraps it around Sam.

“Thanks, Cory,” she says with great appreciation. She was freezing. Her thin, silk thermal shirt wasn’t doing much to keep her warm. Plus, she’s soaked through. The legs of her black riding pants are like two sheets of ice clinging to her since she had to straddle the garage roof that was covered in snow. Cory just affectionately touches the top of her head before grabbing his rifle again. Simon must be cold, too. She feels bad that he doesn’t have his coat or a sweater but just his turtleneck, which must also be dripping wet. He doesn’t seem to mind, or perhaps he hasn’t even noticed.

Kelly tells them, “There were only two that we found out there in the field. John and Derek are pushing in from the front. We’re trying not to let any of them escape.”

Simon shakes his head, “No, no quarter.”

Kelly bumps his fist against Simon’s outstretched, good one.

Cory drops his pack on the ground in front of them. “There’s gauze in there, Sam. See if you can’t get that bleeding to slow down.”

“Ok, Cory,” she says quickly, drops to her knees and immediately starts unzipping his backpack.

“Ready to cover us?” Cory asks Simon with a grin. “Or are you gonna let that scratch hold you back?”

“I’ve got it,” Simon says with grit and unconcealed annoyance at Cory’s jest.

Sam knows that Cory is just giving his friend a hard time. She saw the look in his eyes when he took off his head gear. He seems worried about the wound.

“Let’s roll, brother,” Kelly says, rises out of the log pile and climbs over the back of it in one, fluid leap. Then he jogs left. Cory goes right, and Sam and Simon fire their weapons toward the area of the enemy. She isn’t hitting anyone and can barely see. The snow has picked up again and is thick and cumbersome.

“We’re comin’ in behind you, Simon,” Chet’s voice comes from the radio.

“I see you,” he answers as he peers over his shoulder. Sam continues to shoot.

“Professor,” Cory says next in the radio. “Cease fire. We’ve got it from here.”

“Roger,” Simon answers.

Sam knows they don’t want to take on friendly fire. She also saw their throat mics on, so they are likely communicating with the other members of the family while searching for the scattering men. A lot of gunfire ensues as they wait as patiently as they can. Sam’s ears are ringing painfully, and she wishes desperately for some ear protection.

“I think I should go out there,” Simon worries.

“No, you could get shot by our group,” Sam reminds him and clutches his good arm.

“They need my help,” Simon laments with a helpless tone in his voice. She knows how much he wants to assist them. He keeps tapping his finger against the forearm of his rifle. Cory has told her before how valuable Simon is in a firefight because of his skill as a sniper. It just isn’t going to happen tonight. He took out a few of them already. That was all the help he’ll be able to offer without his night-vision gear. It’s also the only assistance he can give with his wounded arm.

“Simon, please don’t leave me,” Sam cries.

“Not a chance, Sam,” Simon promises and wraps his arm around her shoulders.

She digs around in Cory’s pack until she finds a rolled up wad of gauze. “Let me see your shoulder.”

“Let’s deal with it when this over,” he argues.

“No, Simon,” Sam whispers. “We need to do this now. You’re bleeding badly.”

She pulls his shirt out just slightly to see what she can see, which isn’t much.

“Where is it?” she whispers. “I wish I had a flashlight.”

“It stings down here,” Simon shows her with his finger.

He’s pointing below his shoulder toward the back of his arm. Sam pulls his shirt up from the bottom and finally sees it. The wound looks deep. Apparently, the blade passed through the fleshy, muscular part of his bicep. It looks extremely painful and makes her flinch just examining it. And it is bleeding a lot more than she initially thought.

“Oh dear,” she coos. “Hold still, Simon. Does it hurt terribly?”

“No, not really,” he says. “I think the cold is making it numb.”

That doesn’t sound right to Sam. She doesn’t think it is cold enough to cause numbing. Her feet are nearly numb, but she worries that his arm is numb because of nerve damage. She holds the patch of gauze against his arm while digging around in the med pack until she finds the tape. Simon continues to keep a keen watch on the area. She tears off a piece with her teeth and presses it against his arm, causing him to wince.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“It’s fine.”

“This should hold till we get home,” Sam tells him as more loud shots ring out. This time, they come from somewhere in the distance.

“Coming your way, Professor,” Cory says on the radio.

“Roger,” Simon returns.

A minute later as Sam is finishing and lowering Simon’s shirt again, Cory pops down into their hiding spot.

“We’re ready to move, kids,” he says with humor. “You ok, Professor?”

“Fine,” Simon says with a touch of irritation. “What’s going on out there?”

“We’ve got two of them hog tied, one in the field, one in the house. We’re pretty sure a couple of them got away.”

“What about their leader?”
“We think his name is Mike,” Cory says. “He’s gone. Asshole slipped us. With this snow, he’ll be easy to track in the morning with more light. We’ve only got a few hours till the sun comes up. We’re gonna question the two assholes, find out where they were escaping to, and search for their boss in the morning.”

“Good,” Simon says as he stands with her.

“Keep an eye out, guys,” Cory tells them. “Those missing assholes could still be in the area. But I doubt it. They ran for their lives. Doubt if they’re anywhere near.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Sam concurs. “I think you guys scared them off.”

“Unfortunately,” Cory says. “We’ll find them, though.”

They walk back to her mare where Sam tied her to a tree branch. She is a jittery mess of nerves, poor thing. From there, they go to the barn where Sam returns her to her stall. They meet up in the kitchen with the rest of the group again. Even though the fires that Simon started earlier are both out, there is still a little heat in the house which feels so much better than being frozen solid.

Chet says, “Wayne’s bringing the station wagon to pick you all up.”

“Cool,” Kelly says. “Thanks, bro.”

“We’re staying,” Cory says to Simon and Sam.

“Who?” Simon immediately asks.

“Me, Derek and Kel,” he says. “John’s got a head wound that needs stitches, and you’re messed up, too. Plus, Chet and the Johnson guys are staying.”

“I’m all right,” Simon argues. “I’ll stay, too.”

“We don’t need you,” Chet says. “Me and my brother are also staying. You’ll go back in our station wagon, and two of us will bring the horses tomorrow.”

“Where’s our car?” Simon asks.

“Wrecked in a ditch a few miles out,” Kelly explains. “That’s what took us so long to get here.”

“K-dog’s on his way, too,” Derek tells them. “He didn’t want anyone coming toward the condo village. He and Paul are already on the way. We’ll stay here in the house till dawn, and then we’re going after them.”

Sam is surprised that so many of their friends are going after those bandits, too, but she’s glad.

“I’ll get our things,” she volunteers and leaves the room.

“I’ll help,” Cory offers and follows her. “You ok, little sister?”

They climb the stairs to the second floor, and Sam tries not to notice the splatters of blood here and there marring the cream-colored walls. She hasn’t seen dead bodies yet, which makes her wonder if the men already dragged or carried them outside.

“Yes, fine,” she answers.

“You sure? Nobody got ahold of you?”

She shakes her head as they walk into her parents’ bedroom to collect their packs and belongings. “No, not one. Simon held them off, shot a few. I shot someone out by the barn, the guy that stabbed Simon.”

“Yeah, I saw your handiwork. Good job. How bad is that wound? I couldn’t see it too well.”

“It seems pretty bad to me,” she says with worry. “That guy missed his shoulder. I thought he stabbed him in the shoulder, but he must’ve missed, or Simon moved. He stabbed him right through the fatty part of his bicep, clean through. It’s really bleeding.”

“Get him home to the docs,” Cory states. “They’ll fix the Professor right up.”

“Yes,” she agrees and zips her pack. “Here, Cory,” she says and removes his coat. “Take your coat back. You’ll need it if you’re staying out in this weather all night. I’ve got mine now. I’ll take Simon’s down to him, too.”

“Yeah, you guys need to get warmed up as soon as possible before you get pneumonia.”

“We will,” she says with a nod and slings her pack over her shoulder.

She grabs Simon’s bag and follows Cory toward the stairs. Sam glances one last time up toward the stairs that lead to the loft. Just a few short hours ago, her life had been turning in a positive direction. She was pretty sure that Simon was going to make love to her, and now everything is ruined, just like it always gets ruined.

“…yes, sir, they definitely knew us,” Simon is telling the rest of them. “He yelled the McClane name in particular.”

“Maybe the Target assholes,” Kelly suggests, getting a few nods from the other men.

“Well, we haven’t exactly been making friends with creeps like them the last four years,” John reminds them.

It is, unfortunately, true. They’ve made a lot of enemies keeping their family and town safe. They have raided and burned their enemies to the ground quite a few times. They are good men, all of them, but they are not to be messed with. The men in the family are dangerous, lethal, even Simon. If she was with someone else tonight, it might have gone a different way entirely. Simon is nothing if not an efficient soldier. She’s just thankful they made it out of her parents’ home alive.

“But the fact that he knew our name, the family’s name,” Derek says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That’s a big friggin’ problem.”

“Agreed,” John says. “I still think I should stick around for the interrogation.”

Sam frowns at what she knows is coming if they have two prisoners that they must question. She’s glad to be going home.

“Here comes your ride,” Chet says to the group.

They leave with John, who drives the three of them back to the farm. She sits in between them on the front seat, not wanting to sit in the back by herself. Simon keeps a watch out his window just in case those men are near. They pass the two wrecked vehicles, theirs and their neighbor’s, in the road.

“Do you think they know where our farm is, John?” she asks.

“I doubt it, or they would’ve attacked already,” he says.

“What if some of them were a part of the group that did attack it last year?” she questions. “Some of them escaped.”

“Could be, but highly doubtful,” he says.

She’s not sure if he’s just trying to reassure her or if he truly believes this. Either way, she hopes the men track all of those sickos. They could find their farm eventually even if they haven’t been there before, especially since they know their name and have been asking around about them. Why are they so angry toward the family?

She breathes a huge sigh of relief as the farm comes into view. The adults are waiting outside on the porch for them including Huntley, who rushes over to help. Reagan, heedless of the weather, also runs to the station wagon, slips and slams into John’s door.

“Reagan!” John yells with worry as he exits the vehicle. “Be careful.”

He grabs his wife and pulls her upright.

“You can’t be so reckless now,” he scolds as he holds her close and protectively.

“Really, Harrison?” she asks in anger. “You’re really gonna lecture me about being careful?”

They move quickly through the snow to the front porch where Paige is also waiting in her night clothes.

“Oh, they’re soaked!” Sue exclaims.

“Get her some dry clothing, Sue,” Simon requests. “She’s going to get sick.”

“There are plenty of clean clothes in the mudroom,” she answers. “Paige and I just finished folding some for the day.”

“Are you ok?” Paige asks as she clings to her brother. Her light gray eyes are so frightened with worry for Simon.

“Fine, sis,” he says. “Don’t worry.”

She snorts and says, “Yeah, right!”

“You need to change, Simon. You’ll get sick, too, son,” Grandpa tells him. “Samantha, get changed into those dry clothes in the mudroom. You both need to get out of those wet articles and warmed up.”

“Yes, Grandpa,” Sam says with a nod, her teeth rattling. She must look like a disaster.

“Let’s get you both inside. Kelly told me you were injured?” Grandpa asks him.

“Yes, sir,” Simon confirms. “But I’ll be fine.”

“We’ll be the judge of that,” Reagan corrects him as they are ushered through the back door. “Both of you go get changed in the mudroom while I start in the kitchen on John.”

She and Simon head to the mudroom where a plethora of clean clothing is kept. The old farmhouse feels so warm and cozy. Sam can smell wood burning, probably in Grandpa’s office fireplace. Sometimes they also use the wood-burning stove in the basement as a source of backup in the deep winter months. Near the clothing cabinet, she turns on the small, low wattage lamp, which fills the room with a warm, amber glow.

“I’ll wait outside,” Simon offers.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Simon,” Sam says and tugs his wet jacket to drag him into the room with her.

“Yes,” Paige agrees. “Don’t be crazy. Come in and get changed.”

His sister charges past them both and sets a lantern on the washing machine to also conserve their electric.

“I won’t look,” Sam teases, getting an embarrassed chuckle from him.

Paige leaves and Sam pulls clothing out for him and a fresh change for herself. Then she places his on the counter. She opens the wide door to the clothing hutch even further and allows it to act as a changing screen. She goes behind it to a dimly lit corner of the small room where she starts shedding clothing. She turns her back to Simon to also offer him privacy, too.

“Don’t put a clean shirt on, Simon,” Sam instructs.

“Right, no sense in ruining another one,” he says in agreement. “This one’s trashed.”

Sam pulls on clean panties, a pair of dry sweatpants and a t-shirt. It still doesn’t feel warm enough, so she adds warm, thick wool socks and a cozy, pink sweater. She’s finally starting to feel her fingers and toes again. A glance over her shoulder reveals Simon in his boxer briefs. Other than swimming together in the summer months, Sam has never seen him without clothing. She walks over to him as he’s pulling up a fresh pair of jeans. He can’t seem to work the clasp and zipper of the pants, so she offers assistance.

“Here,” she rushes and squats in front of him, “let me help you, Simon.”

“Wait, that’s…this is very…” he stammers nervously and backs up. He hits the sink behind him in his haste and winces at the pain.

Sam ignores him and helps anyway. He flinches when her icy fingers brush against his bare, flat stomach.

“Sorry,” she murmurs. “I’m so worried about your arm.”

“It’ll be fine,” he says to reassure her. “Just some muscle that needs to be sewn. A few stitches and I’ll be like new.”

“I don’t know,” Sam worries as she uses his already ruined shirt to wipe some of the blood that has run down his side before standing up again. “I’m not so sure, Simon. Geez, I wish that wouldn’t have happened. So stupid,” she berates herself.

He is quiet for so long that Sam looks up at Simon only to find him regarding her stoically. His lovely, chiseled face is etched with pain, but not the physical kind. Simon’s mouth is set in a tight line as he slowly shakes his head as if some powerful revelation is dawning on him.

“I’m never going to be able to keep you safe,” he finally declares softly.

She shakes her head, swallows hard at the guilt she hears, and says, “Don’t say that. I am safe. We’re both alive. Don’t blame yourself for what happened.”

He watches her, hawk-like and acutely aware of her, his breathing shallow and tortured. She knows he’s recalculating every move he made as soon as they arrived at her family’s home and second guessing all of it.

“It was just like before,” he says with a voice full of regret and dark memories.

She knows he is referring to when she was taken from her family home, and he was powerless to stop it from happening. Sam shakes her head vehemently and scowls up at him, “No, it wasn’t. Not at all like before, Simon.”

“No matter what I do, you always get hurt, Sam,” he mumbles as if defeat has settled over him.

Sam vehemently shakes her head and says, “Not true. Don’t talk like that. You’re the only person keeping me safe, Simon.”

He just frowns hard at her but doesn’t reply. She knows he’ll never believe her. Sam lays a hand against his cheek.

“Nobody cares more about my safety than you,” she points out. He just huffs as if disgusted with himself. Instead of trying to further reason with him, realizing it won’t do any good, Sam wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him instead. Slowly, his good arm wraps around her back and pulls her close. They stand there for a long time, neither of them speaking or needing to. Sam finally breaks the silence and says with a smile, “This is even better than dry clothes. I feel like I’m warming up now.”

Simon rubs his hand soothingly up and down on her back. She wishes that she would’ve left her sweater on the shelf just so that she could be closer to him.

“Your hair is so wet,” Simon observes. “You’re going to get sick.”

“I won’t,” Sam promises. “I’m not as frail as you think.”

She smiles and raises her head to look at him. He isn’t smiling but frowning instead.

“You were so cold your lips were turning blue when we were out in the wood pile,” he tells her.

“Nah,” Sam teases with a gentle grin, “That was just my goth-girl corpse look.”

He narrows his eyes as he says, “I don’t find that humorous, Samantha.”

She just smiles crookedly and shrugs. Simon strokes her damp hair.

“Hey, kids,” Sue says, bursting through the door. “Oh, hey, sorry.”

“Simon was just trying to warm me up,” Sam explains as she slowly backs away from him. She has nothing to hide from the family when it comes to Simon. He obviously doesn’t feel the same because he takes three steps away from her. This troubles Sam.

“Well, then I guess I’m sorry I interrupted,” Sue says with a lot of implication and a sly grin.

“She…she’s just very cold,” Simon explains with a nervous stutter.

“Uh huh,” Sue says. “Grandpa’s ready for you in the kitchen, Simon.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says and leaves the room.

“Everything ok between you two?” Sue asks when he’s gone.

“Um, yeah, sure,” Sam says, hoping it’s true.

“You should probably be in the kitchen,” she says. “It might make him feel better having you there.”

She’s not sure if that’s true or not, but if Simon wants her there while they repair his arm, then nothing could stop her. When she gets there, Simon is telling them about the raid, filling in where John must not have. The family is very concerned that the men are in danger. Simon and John assure them that they are safe and have outnumbered the enemy.

“They have two prisoners to question about the attack and their group,” Sam offers.

“Is Cory… and everyone else ok?” Paige asks and wipes imaginary crumbs from the counter top.

“Yes, they are fine. Everyone is unharmed,” Sam tells her.

Reagan is pressing a clean cloth against Simon’s arm, then pulling it back to inspect it. Grandpa is finishing stitching John’s head near his hairline. There is a two inch long, thick gash there. She’s not sure how it happened, but Sam is just glad he wasn’t shot.

“Grandpa,” Reagan starts as she looks closely at Simon’s wound, “we need to move him to a sofa or a bed. He’s going to need to sleep some of this off. He has a significant tear of the triceps and a small one through the brachialis.”

“Yes, this is going to require some sewing,” Grandpa agrees. “We’ll use my bedroom.”

“Got it,” Reagan says and waves to her husband.

John is standing near the kitchen sink guzzling a tall glass of fresh milk. There is white bandaging on his forehead.

They follow as Simon and Reagan head to Grandpa’s bedroom where he doesn’t usually sleep. Nobody sleeps there most of the time. A moment later, Grandpa and John enter, as well.

“I’ll get a bucket of hot water and some rags,” Hannah says.
Sue offers, “Let me help, Hannie.”

Everyone knows Sue can’t stand the sight of blood. Paige goes with her, too. She’s also not the best with blood and gore. It’s best that they act in a helping role from another room. Sam, however, is fully prepared to assist but is rejected by Reagan.

“We got this, little apprentice,” Reagan tells her. “Why don’t you sit on the bed and hold Simon still if he tries to move.”

“Sure, Reagan,” Sam complies. Simon lies down near the edge of the bed as Grandpa brings in a floor lamp from his office, one that he can twist and angle better to see.

“Why don’t we just do this out in the shed?” she asks.

Grandpa answers, “It’s pretty darn cold out there tonight, Samantha dear. It would take too long to get the building warmed up. It’s easier to just do it in here since there isn’t already a fire going out there. Then he can just sleep in this room tonight where he’ll be comfortable.”

"Morphine, Simon,” Reagan tells him as she injects his thigh directly. Simon doesn’t even flinch. “We’ll use lidocaine at the wound site.”

“Hey, don’t use too much on me,” he argues softly. “I don’t want to take medicine away from our patients.”

“We’ve got plenty, son,” Grandpa says and rests a hand on his shoulder. “Tell me more about these prisoners at Samantha’s house.”

Sam knows they don’t have a lot of pain blockers like morphine and lidocaine, but she also knows that Reagan and Grandpa aren’t about to let one of their own suffer in agony during a very painful procedure. She’s seen them sew people back together like this before at the clinic. This isn’t going to be a joyful experience.

John answers, “We’ve got a man who Cory and Kelly found in the house. Derek’s gonna question him. We aren’t too sure what he knows. Seemed like a simpleton, a follower of this Mike guy, who sounds like their leader.”

“Who is the other prisoner?” Grandpa inquires.

“Um…” John says hesitantly, drawing all of their questioning looks. “It’s a woman, sir.”

“Oh, I understand,” Grandpa says quietly as he injects Simon’s wound site with a tiny syringe needle full of numbing solution. “She was with them by choice?”
“Sure seemed like it,” John says with a heavy sigh. “That’s not all.”

“Doing ok, son?” Grandpa asks Simon, who nods calmly. They have covered him with a sterile sheet, only exposing his wound. Reagan begins flushing it with sanitizing solution and inspecting it for debris. Simon grits his teeth, and Grandpa asks John, “What else?”

“She’s pregnant,” John drops on them.

“Shit,” Reagan states eloquently. “That’s great. Who are these assholes?”

“Not sure, boss,” John says.

“You should go get a shower, John,” Grandpa says. “Too many germs with a wound like that. Plus, you’ve got a little something there.”

He’s pointing with a stainless steel clamp toward John’s hair. Sam hadn’t noticed before, but he has a splattering of blood on the side of his head.

“I’m assuming that’s not yours,” Grandpa speculates, to which John shakes his head.

“Don’t need my help?” he asks

“I think we can manage,” Grandpa answers without looking up from Simon’s procedure.

John nods and leaves the room as Sue and Hannah bring in hot water and towels.

“I can…uh,” Sue starts and makes the mistake of looking at Simon’s bloody mess.

“We’ll make some hot tea,” Hannah quickly suggests and leaves with Sue.

Paige comes back and perches on a stool near Reagan where she can hand her medical instruments. Sam scoots closer to Simon on the bed and takes his hand, gripping it tightly as the doctors begin.

“I hate knife wounds,” Reagan says. She’s said this many times in the past, too. “Gunshot wounds are so much easier to treat.”

“Unless they don’t pass through,” Grandpa corrects.

“Yeah, that’s a problem when they lodge and cause more damage,” Reagan concurs as she threads a needle. “This is ready.”

“Proceed, Dr. McClane,” Grandpa directs as he assists. “Feel anything, Simon?”

“No, sir,” he answers in a slurred voice.

“Keep an eye on him, Samantha, please,” Grandpa orders as he holds a light closer for Reagan. “He won’t be with us for long. We gave him quite a big dose of morphine. We’re not about to do this without numbing him as much as possible.”
“Will he have any long term problems with his arm, Grandpa?” she asks and slides her fingertips to Simon’s wrist to monitor his pulse. His eyelids have closed, and he seems almost peaceful.

“I don’t think so,” Grandpa answers. “Don’t worry, Miss Samantha. We’ll get him put back together. Can’t go without one of our doctors.”

She hesitantly smiles as they work. It goes on forever, or so it seems. Paige looks like she’d like to throw up, or perhaps pass out. Sam tries not to look at the mess of his arm. Usually, she is not effected in such a way when she works at the clinic with them. It must be that it is Simon who is the injured, bloody patient this time. She can’t bear the thought of him enduring pain. She’s thankful that they gave him a big enough dose of morphine to knock him out for a while. When they are finally finished, and Reagan stands up straight again, she arches her back and groans. Sam yawns and wipes a bead of sweat from her own forehead. The last hour has been very tense and stressful.

“That was good, maybe your best work yet, young lady,” Grandpa praises and gets a snort from Reagan in return. “Good job assisting, Miss Paige. Well done.”

“Thanks,” she answers. “I hope I never have to again. At least not for m brother.”

Reagan scoffs, “If he’s going to remain a soldier in this family, this is just one of many scars he’ll obtain in his career.”

Paige looks worried by that comment, but Reagan being Reagan, she doesn’t amend it and sugar coat the truth to allay the fears of others.

“Then let’s hope he just concentrates on medicine instead,” Paige comments as she hands Grandpa some gauze to cover the wound.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Reagan remarks, rolling her head from side to side to relieve her kinked up muscles. “John tells me all the time how invaluable Simon is on their missions. He’s the best sniper we have.”

“Yeah,” Paige whispers.

Grandpa pats her back twice before saying, “He’ll be just fine. Right as the mail in a few days with some rest.”

They collect the pile of bloody rags and the bucket and leave the room. Grandpa comes back and takes his pulse and temperature as Paige and Reagan clean and sterilize the room again. Simon fell asleep a long time ago.

“Can you and Paige stay in here with him tonight, Samantha?” he asks and rubs his forehead.

“Absolutely, Grandpa,” she quickly says. She was already planning on staying with him. Grandpa and Reagan are exhausted. John is staying up on patrol with Huntley. Hannah and Sue went to bed over an hour ago, not that they’ll sleep much until they hear that their husbands are safe. She’s not sure if Paige has slept much at all in the last few days. There really isn’t anyone else to keep an eye on Simon. “I don’t mind at all.”

“Good girl,” Grandpa says and pats her hand.

“Paige, I can even take first watch if you want. That way you can get some rest.”

“Sure, thanks, Sam,” Paige agrees with a fatigued yawn.

Grandpa orders, “Wake me if anything changes or if he runs a fever.”

“I know,” she reminds him. Simon is not the first patient she’s taken care of during an all-nighter. “I’ll come and get you immediately.”

“Check on him every few hours. Get some rest if you can,” he orders softly and touches her cheek before leaving.

Reagan brings her a lantern and turns off the overhead lights and lamps. They try to conserve energy, especially at night.

“You’ll be able to get some sleep, too, without all those bright lights glaring into your eyeballs,” her friend says.

“Thanks,” Sam says with a smile.

“Other than getting ambushed and shot at, how did your trip go?” Reagan asks.

“Fine,” Sam answers evasively. She doesn’t have anything to hide when it comes to the family knowing her feelings for Simon, but she’s not ready to shout them from the rooftop, either. Talking with John the other day also helped her deal with her feelings when it comes to Simon. She loves him, has since she met him and was going to tell him about it tonight, but everything got twisted around and then really screwed up after they were attacked. She’ll tell him some day.

“Ok,” Reagan says slyly. “Well, come and get me if you need me, kiddo. G’night.”

“Good night, Reagan,” she says with a smile. Whether Reagan knows it or not, she definitely has that pregnancy glow. Her cheeks were high with color and her skin literally glowed with a soft dew. Sam has always thought her friend was beautiful, but pregnancy seems to suit her, not that she’d want to hear that.

“Sam,” Simon moans softly from the bed.

She closes the door and rushes to him, kneeling beside the bed. “I’m here, Simon. Is everything all right?”

“You’re here?” he asks, his eyes barely open. He mumbles something incoherent, which is the morphine coursing through his body.

She smiles. He is completely out of it. “Of course, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sam,” he says again before closing his eyes.

She climbs into the bed and lays beside him. She takes his pulse a while later and watches him sleep. Then she succumbs to the warmth of his body heat and the soft dim light of the lantern and joins him in slumber. When she awakens, she isn’t surprised to see that only an hour has passed on the clock beside the bed. This will probably be how it goes all night. She won’t be able to completely rest, not with Simon down. She paces the room, takes his pulse and lies down again near him, careful not to disturb his rest.

She isn’t going to awaken his sister for a watch duty shift. Paige needs her sleep. She’s been working hard on the farm and taking on more responsibilities. Sam has no problem taking over the duty of observing Simon. She also has more medical experience and knows better the signs of infection or other complications of such a wound since she’s done this quite a few times before.

Because she can’t resist, though, she presses a kiss to his forehead before tucking her hands under her cheek and falling to sleep again.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Cory

He and his brother are in the middle of questioning their hostile prisoner when Chet comes in to say that the other prisoner wouldn’t talk. It’s up to them to get theirs to sing.

Cory tells Chet, “We found bloody footprints in the snow about a half mile from here. They won’t get too far tonight.”

“We need her to tell us where they’re holed up,” Chet says, to which Cory nods firmly.

He rejoins his brother in the next room where Kelly is trying to pry any information they can from her.

“I’m not going to ask you again, woman,” Kelly says to the pregnant prisoner. “Who are you people?”

They have not physically abused her, even they couldn’t do that, not to a pregnant woman. Plus, Kelly was having a guilty conscious about it. However, he might change his mind because the woman spits at them.

“What the fuck, bitch?” Cory yells as her spittle hits him in the chest, too. “You tell us what we want to know, or we’re gonna kill you. Got it? You’re either valuable, or you’re not.”

Derek strolls in and shakes his head.

Cory yanks her out of her chair and takes her into the other room to get a good look at her dead comrade. Derek or Chet, but probably Derek, has killed their prisoner. He didn’t need it in a formal memo to comprehend the imperceptible shake of Derek’s head to understand that. She jerks back and tries to get free of Cory, who has a tight grip on her upper arm. They’ve zip tied her hands in the front. With the size of her belly, they weren’t sure how to tie her very well. She must be seven or eight months along, or hell, maybe nine for all he knows about pregnant women.

“You wanna’ end up like your friend?” he shouts at her, points to her dead friend, and drags her back to the other room where he pushes her down onto a chair. He does so carefully. Shooting a woman trying to kill them is one thing. Shooting a pregnant, unarmed woman is something different, even for him. “Now start talking.”

She glares at them. Her dark brown hair is a rat’s nest of tangles and dirt. The clothing she wears is a mess, torn and stained and threadbare. She looks like she might be of half-Asian descent. There is dirt on her face, but she gives the impression like she could be pretty if she was clean or not colluding with their enemy or thirty pounds underweight.

Derek asks in a more gentle tone and sits in front of her in a kitchen chair he drags over into the living room, “What’s your name, girl?”

She turns her head to the side and won’t look at him. Cory jerks her head back and forces her to stare at Derek.

“We don’t want to hurt you…” Derek starts.

“Yeah, right,” she finally says.

“We won’t kill you, not like your friend,” he says, pointing to the hallway.

“Sure,” she says with doubt. “Everyone knows about you guys.”

“What’s that mean? Who knows about us? And what the hell are they saying?” Derek asks.

Since he’s having more luck with her, Cory and Kelly back off. He is content to play good cop, bad cop with her if it gets the woman to spill some secrets.

“People,” she says noncommittally.

“What people?”

She raises her chin slightly.

“Who?” Derek presses.

“Everyone in our group. Mike told us all about you guys,” she says and then frowns as if she hadn’t meant to reveal so much.

“And who is this Mike? Your group’s leader?”

She looks at her feet and nods. Simon notices that her gym shoe has a hole in the top, her sock exposed. Her feet must be soaked.

Derek unslings his pack to the floor and pulls out a canteen of water. “Drink?”

She looks at the canteen as if she’s willing to sell her soul, even if it just means for a sip of water. He holds it to her mouth. Then he places it in her hands so that she can drink on her own, which she does for a long time.

“What’s your name?” he asks, getting a narrowing of her brown eyes again.

She turns her head away, but Derek presses calmly. “Look, if you act like you have some manners and sense, we won’t hurt you. If you don’t leave me with any choice, then I will.”

This is enough to snap her head forward with fear in her eyes. Cory fully believes that Derek will do exactly what he’s promised.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” she answers softly.

“I’m Derek,” he says.

“Mia,” she offers after an extended period of indecision.

“Is this your first?” he asks, pointing to her belly.

“Yeah,” she answers.

“My wife and I have three,” Derek reveals, surprising Cory that he would do so. He wonders if his friend is planning on killing her. “She miscarried. It was pretty bad, can’t have any more kids. Have you seen a doctor yet?”

She shakes her head.

“What were you doing with that group?” he asks.

Mia shrugs and says, “They promised to keep us safe.”

“Who is ‘us’?”

She says, “Me and some friends.”

“Were your friends out there fighting us?”

She nods but doesn’t say anything.

“Why did you want to attack us, attack the kids?”

“Mike promised us that we would have a safe place and get back what the McClane family took from him,” she explains.

Derek shakes his head and says, “I don’t understand. Who is this guy? What did we take from him?”

“You killed his brother,” she says.

They all look at one another. They’ve killed a lot of people, but only to keep their family safe. Even K-dog, who is standing in the corner, shakes his head. He goes with them on a lot of runs, especially if it’s going to be a battle. As an ex-Navy seal, he’s always ready for a fight.

“How?”

“He said they were living somewhere safe and that you guys came in and killed everyone.”

“Where?”

“Some place close to here,” she says. “They were living in a store.”

“Target?”

“Yes, I think so,” she says. “He said you and your family came in and killed everyone and raped the women and took everything they had. He said he wasn’t there when it happened but came home the next day, and it was all burned down.”

Derek smiles and shakes his head, “I don’t think my wife would appreciate that, the part about us raping a bunch of women. She has a pretty feisty temper and a little bit of a jealous streak.”

Kelly says, “Mine, either.”

“You’ve been fed a line of bullshit, Mia,” he says.

A tear trickles down her cheek and she nods with defeat as Derek tells her what really happened with the Target group and how they attacked the farm and innocent women and children.

“So he’s had some time to regroup,” Kelly observes.

Cory asks, “What was the contingency plan tonight?”

She shrugs and says, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“What were you supposed to do if everything went to shit?” he asks.

“Oh, I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.”

“Is that the truth?” Derek questions and hits her with a deadly glare.

“Yes,” she says. “He didn’t say anything about that. I guess he thought this wouldn’t happen.”

“How did he know the kids were going to be here tonight?”

“I overheard him saying that his friend heard them talking about it in town at your family’s medical clinic,” she says.

“Mike lives in town?”

“No,” she says.

Cory asks, “Does he know where we all live?”

She shakes her head and says, “No, I don’t think so. I don’t think the person he knows in your town knows, either. I’ve overheard him saying that he’s pissed about that and that he wants to find your camp.”

None of them correct her about their compound being a farm instead of a camp.

“Where’s your camp then?” Derek asks.

“On an abandoned farm about twenty miles from here,” she tells them.

“Toward Nashville?” Cory asks.

“Close to White House,” she explains.

“Where’s that?” Derek asks.

K-Dog says, “It’s north of your friend over in Hendersonville.”

“How was your group traveling? Vehicles?” Derek asks as he rummages in his pack. He pulls out a jar of food and a fork and his map.

“Yes, sometimes four-wheelers,” she answers. “Tonight we had a vehicle.”

“Here, eat,” Derek tells her and hands Mia the jar of food. She looks at it with hesitation. “It’s not poisoned. My wife packed it for me, and I haven’t pissed her off that bad in a while.”

She takes the jar, unscrews the lid and starts shoveling the food in.

“How is your friend, Mike, moving around in our town undetected?” Kelly asks.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I think he has a friend who lives there or something. He doesn’t tell us everything. He’s not my friend. He only offered our group protection.”

“And now you know that he wasn’t really offering you protection at all but was lying to you,” Kelly reminds her.

She nods and pauses before resuming eating again. The woman seems famished. Cory hands her his wrapped bread, which she takes with a healthy dose of fear of him in her eyes.

“And using you to fight his battles,” Cory says pointedly. What kind of coward would drag women into a battle without a plan or regard for their safety, or in his opinion, at all?

“Yeah, I guess he was,” she agrees.

“How’d he make his escape tonight?” Derek asks.

She swallows and says, “We came in a minivan and a truck. He had them parked down the road hidden in one of the garages of an abandoned house.”

And he allowed a pregnant woman to walk in the snow and into a battle. Cory wants to find this prick and torture him, not for more information, but for his own satisfaction.

“Which house?” Derek presses.

“Um, a big white one,” she says. “It had a barn in the front and black fence, or what used to be black horse fence. The front door was red. I thought the house was pretty, the kind of house that would’ve been really pretty before. There’s a big building behind the house, too. That’s where he stowed it.”

Cory takes Chet into another room.

“Send a couple guys down there to check it out,” he orders, to which Chet agrees and leaves.

Derek nods over his shoulder as if they should talk in private somewhere else. They leave a guard to keep an eye on her and go to the laundry room.

“What do you think?” Cory asks.

Derek shakes his head and says, “Not sure. I’m about half convinced we should pile into your truck, K-Dog, and make her give us directions to their compound.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Kelly says. “We’ve searched at least two miles out. They aren’t in the perimeter.”

“We could split up, do some recon and come back here to meet,” Cory suggests.

“That would work,” Derek says. “Some of us could go to their farm, and some could stay here to continue searching. This asshole is the kind of man that would ditch people and take off in the car without them.”

“I’ll stay here to search,” Kelly volunteers. “Cory and I can do that. We don’t need much help.”

“I’ll leave Chet and the Johnson men and take K-Dog and Paul,” Derek instructs.

Chet comes in stomping his feet on a rug. Cory isn’t sure why he would feel like he needs to do such a thing. The snow on his boots is the last thing that any of them should worry about.

“Found the house,” Chet tells them. “There were tire tracks in the snow. We must’ve missed them on our check, and they're gone.”

“Right,” Cory agrees.

“Good, thanks, Chet,” Derek says.

“What do you want us to do if we find anyone while we’re out?” Cory asks their team leader.

“Kill ‘em,” Derek states matter-of-factly. “They aren’t worth a shit anyway.”

“What about the woman?” Kelly asks.

“I’ll take her to the farm, but we can decide tomorrow as a family,” Derek says. “I don’t feel like we should make that decision alone.”

Cory nods as they consider her fate. Somehow she got lumped in with a bad crowd, but he’s not sure she deserves to die. Killing a pregnant, unarmed woman that just wanted the protection that came with joining up with assholes is not going to sit well with them. She was hesitant to talk with them at first, but she did finally open up and has now offered them way more than they would’ve dug up on their own.

Derek leaves a short time later with K-Dog and Paul after Mia gives them very detailed directions to Mike’s lair. Chet and the Johnson’s take off on another perimeter search while he and Kelly stay behind to see what else they can get from their captive. His brother allows her to move to a sofa where she’ll be more comfortable, but they certainly don’t untie her.

“Do you have any family?” Kelly asks the woman.

She shakes her head and says, “I had an older sister, but she’s gone.”

“Parents?” his brother asks.

Mia shakes her head again with a bigger frown this time, “They lived in San Diego.”

It’s all they need to know about what happened to her parents. Most of California is gone.

“Whose baby is it?” Cory asks.

She bites her lower lip, and her brows pinch tightly together. For some reason, she doesn’t want to tell them.

“Mike’s?” Kelly asks.

“No, no way, not him,” she says quickly.

“Husband?” Kelly presses.

“This baby belongs to me and nobody else,” she snarls and looks away.

“Ok,” Kelly concedes. “Before Derek left, you told him that there were over twenty people at the farm. Is that accurate?”

“Yes, twenty-three,” she tells them.

“How many women and children?” he asks.

“No children, none,” she answers.

Cory frowns and asks, “How can that be?”

“They don’t allow them. We’re supposed to be laying low there till they took their revenge on your family. Then Mike had a big plan for everyone, something him and his friends worked out.”

“What friends?” Cory asks.

“The guys in your town,” Mia answers.

“How many friends live in our town?” Kelly asks. Cory can tell that this revelation bothers him.

Instead of answering, she just shrugs.

“How long were you with their group?” Cory asks.

“Almost a month,” she tells him. “It wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I planned on staying with them until my baby was born and then leaving, find somewhere to hole up for the winter with my baby.”

“How did you hook up with them in the first place?” Kelly questions further, sitting on a nearby chair.

“I was out one night, scavenging, hungry, looking for food. My group was attacked, everyone but me and an older couple were killed. We had been on our own for two days, and I was already starving. I wasn’t going to make it much longer, and I knew it. I saw some people, three men and two women, raiding a warehouse north of Nashville. They seemed… I don’t know… normal, I suppose. We approached them, and one thing led to another, and we were taken back to meet Mike. He said I could stay, but that I’d have to get rid of my baby when it came because they didn’t tolerate or want kids in their group. I knew I wouldn’t actually do that, but I figured I’d stay and help out until the baby came. I didn’t want to give birth on my own,” she says with great sadness. Cory thinks he sees tears in her eyes. “Then there was all this talk about some horrible group, this family, your family that wronged them and that they were going to take their revenge. They said how terrible and evil you guys were. At first, I thought if I helped them that they’d let me stay with the baby. It doesn’t matter. Mike didn’t actually give me a choice. He said everyone had to earn their keep, so I had to go with them and fight.”

“Nice guy,” Cory says.

“Yeah, I kind of figured I’d help as much as I could until the baby came and then split. I wasn’t about to let them hurt this baby.”

“Who would?” Kelly asks rhetorically.

Cory asks her, “Where were you living before you joined up with them?”

“Nashville,” she says. “I was going to college there when it started. My sister came down from Philly. That’s where she lived. She got sick two years ago, really sick with something and didn’t make it. I’ve been with a group of survivors living in the city. It was working out all right until one night…”

“Sorry to hear that, Mia,” Kelly says. “We have people in our group who have gone through the same as you.”

“Boo hoo, right?” she asks snidely. “Everyone who’s still alive has been through hell.”

“True,” Kelly concurs. “But it doesn’t make it unimportant. It happened, so it matters.”

“What are your people like?” she asks.

Kelly explains the family, their kids, and their way of life, but not the location of their farm. He tells her about their town and the plans they have to make it a safe place for anyone who wants to come there peacefully, contribute and grow as a community that looks out for one another. When he is finished, Cory definitely sees tears in her eyes this time.

“Damn,” she swears softly and hangs her head with defeat. “I’m sorry about… doing this tonight. I didn’t know. I suspected that Mike was being dishonest, but not to that extent.”

“We’ve been looking for him for a long time,” Kelly tells her and then explains the Target raid again but in more detail.

“Double damn,” she says. “Are you sure it’s him?”

“No, but it sounds like it could be him,” Kelly says as Chet comes back in through the rear door of the house.

Kelly takes their ally aside and discusses the situation with Mia while Cory watches her. “Cor, come in here.”

Zack Johnson has his son, Steve, keep an eye on her, so he can go with Kelly.

“What’s going on?” Cory asks his brother once they are in the hall with them.

“What the hell are we gonna do with her?” his brother asks. “We can’t kill her, man. She reminds me a little bit of Paige. She’s been through a lot of shit.”

“And she’s pregnant,” Chet reminds them.

“Derek said we could take her to the farm as a hostage for now,” Kelly says.

“She can stay with us,” Zach offers. “I could keep a close watch on her.”

“That could be dangerous to your whole family if she’s lying,” Cory tells him.

“Yeah, but I get the feeling she’s not,” Zach says.

Kelly nods and agrees, “I don’t think she is, either. She’s just had the shit end of the stick for a while.”

“She’s sure as hell not used to anyone being nice to her,” Chet says.

“I could let her stay out in the cabin, you know the one at the back of our farm?” Zach suggests.

Cory knows which one he’s referencing because that’s where he used to meet Evie some nights. “What if she runs off?” he asks.

“Then she’ll likely starve to death, be killed by a wild animal, or caught by someone she’s not gonna like real well.”

“True,” Kelly says. “I’ll talk it over with the family.”

“I can take her to our farm and lock her in the basement for a day or so until you guys decide,” Zach says. “I don’t think she’s going to try anything.”

“It’s not exactly to her benefit,” Chet says.

“She sure lit up when she found out that we had three doctors who know how to deliver a baby in our family,” Kelly tells them.

“She could always stay out in the cabin until her baby comes,” Zach says. “And then, if she still wants to leave, she can go. We won’t stop her.”

They discuss the situation a few minutes longer until their radio cracks and Derek tells them that they are on their way back. The farm Mike was squatting on was deserted, but just recently, because the fireplaces were still smoldering. This is bullshit in Cory’s opinion. The sun is just starting to rise, a dark, angry gray lighting the morning sky, as Derek pulls into the drive. They are pissed off and frustrated as hell. They question Mia again, who has fallen asleep on the couch and has to wake back up. They want to know where Mike the leader could have disappeared to, but she has no idea. She tells them that she never heard of another place. Cory would like to punch something, mostly Mike’s face. They decide it would be a smart idea to head into town since they are so close, just to make sure that everything there is quiet and undisturbed. They ride together in K-Dog’s vehicle and eventually circle back to Sam’s house. The rest of them leave, and he and Kelly ride the horses back to the farm. Cory will soon have to resume his nocturnal hunting habits and track this asshole by himself before he can strike again.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Paige

She checked on her brother four times throughout the remainder of the night. He and Sam were dead asleep, snuggled together in their slumber. John told them what happened in greater detail. Paige can’t imagine the fear that must’ve been coursing through her brother and Sam’s veins. She’s so thankful for their safe return, but she can’t even wrap her mind around that bizarre attack. They could’ve lost them.

It’s half past ten in the morning, and the first chores have been done. Hannah is holding breakfast until everyone either comes home or awakens. Herb and Reagan are still asleep. John is on watch duty with the new step-brother, Lucas. It was up to her, Sue and G to conduct their morning affairs, including milking the cows. Paige sucks at it and mostly pisses them off, but she’d managed to finish milking her cow while Sue milked the other. She also hasn’t slept much, so she climbs the long stairs to the second floor where she intends to read while waiting for the rest of the family to return home. She doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s worried out of her mind about Cory, and his brother, of course.

As she lies down on her bed, she has time to reflect on Cory and the heroic manner in which he selflessly and immediately jumped into action last night when they sent her down to wake him. His brother and John had first watch, so he was asleep in his room in the basement until his night shift started. Without a thought to his own safety, he’d pulled on clothing, grabbed his rifle and ran upstairs. Within minutes they were all gone. It had left her and the others frightened out of their minds. Reagan’s father had been summoned to the big house as an extra sentry. He still seems so weak and sickly, though, that Paige isn’t so sure he would’ve been a help if a situation had arisen. She and Sue had also acted as guards in case the men at Sam’s house found their way to them. It had been hectic waiting for word. Reagan kept complaining that she wanted to head over there, too, but they’d subdued her by reminding her that she was pregnant.

Working with G out in the barns had proven interesting, as usual. They’d talked about her father and his grand plan to rule the eastern section of the country. She didn’t believe for a minute that her father wanted someone else to be the new President in the east and had been very vocal about it. She also verbalized her opinion that she thought it was insane to even entertain his idea of leaving the farm to go to Fort Knox. G doesn’t have much of a filter when it comes to vocalizing her opinions, especially about her father, but Paige appreciates her honesty. She just hopes the family takes it to a vote and decides not to sign up for his idiocy. She worries every day that something or someone will take her brother away from her. She sure as hell doesn’t want him to follow Reagan’s father into a battle for power over a broken, collapsed country.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” a voice filters into her mind as she rolls to her side. “You’re gonna miss brunch.”

Paige stretches hard, yawns and rolls back to find Cory kneeling beside her bed and grinning widely. It startles her. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep.

“You’re back!” she says and pulls the top half of him to her and hugs him close.

“Oh, hey, if I’d known this was how you’d greet me if I wake you, then I’d be up here every morning,” he says against her neck.

“What happened?” Paige asks as she scoots back and sits upright.

“Not much, unfortunately,” he tells her.

He is freshly showered, his hair still wet but not from the snowfall. Cory smells like soap and mint.

“They said you guys took a few hostages. Are they…?”

“No, well… one of them’s still alive,” Cory tells her with a nonchalant shrug. “She’s pregnant. Gonna stay at the Johnson place for a while till we decide what the hell to do with her.”

“John mentioned her. That seems dangerous to take her to one of the farms.”

“She was pretty harmless, just looking for people to join up with for safety ‘cuz she’s preggers.”

“Who were those people? Why’d they attack my brother and Sam?”

“We think they’re a part of the Target group,” he says. “We’re going to take you and Reagan over there and show you the dead bodies, see if either of you can place them as the dudes that attacked the farm when I wasn’t here.”

“Ew, that’s disgusting,” she remarks. “I don’t really want to look at a bunch of dead men, Cory.”

He smirks. “Better than looking at them on the other end of one of their guns when they were shooting at us last night like a bunch of assholes. Lucky for us, their aim sucked.”

“True,” she concedes and swings her legs over and stands. He doesn’t back up.

“I’ll be with you,” he says and then winks. “In case one of them goes zombie and tries to eat you.”

Paige gives him a hard scowl. “I think zombies are the least of our problems.”

“True,” he mimics her. “Wanna’ get back in that bed with me for a minute?”

“What? How did your brain travel to that? We were talking about what happened last night. What else did happen?”

He shrugs and chuckles. “We’re gonna give a full briefing before breakfast.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s actually about noon,” he tells her.

“Oh, crap. I fell asleep.”

“I noticed,” Cory says with a grin and takes her hand in his. “You don’t have to stay up all night like that. John was on watch. You should’ve been sleeping. We spent most of the morning hauling the Suburban out of the ditch and back to the farm. Had to help Chet with their vehicle, too.”

“At least it’s back. And I was too worried to sleep.”

“About Simon?” he asks as he pulls her toward him. Paige tries to resist, but Cory is entirely too strong.

“Uh, yeah, about everyone.”

“Me?”

She rolls her eyes at him and frowns. “I was worried about everyone, but I’m learning that you’re the person I should worry about the least. More like I should worry about the people you run into.”

He chuckles and touches the side of her face gently. Cory is such an anomaly. One minute he’s killing people, probably very violently if she was to guess. And the next he is cupping her cheek softly and stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. She tries hard not to let his touch affect her but finds herself failing.

“We should go down,” she announces in a high-pitched tone that sounds squeaky and goofy. He just smiles, snatches her close, plants a kiss to her closed mouth and releases her. Then he leaves and jogs down the stairs ahead of her before she can reprimand him for the kiss.

“We can’t allow them to escape,” he says nearly an hour later as they eat a hearty breakfast that Sue and Hannie have prepared. Everyone is discussing last night’s disastrous outcome and the calculated attack on Sam’s house. Simon is still asleep, but Sam sits next to her and is quiet.

“We won’t,” John assures them.

Kelly adds, “K-Dog and Paul are doing a twenty-mile perimeter search for a broken down mini-van. They won’t get far unless they have gas cans full of fuel. If they’re within that range, they’ll be caught.”

“And what about our town spy?” Doc asks calmly as he helps himself to hash brown casserole and a biscuit. They have recently harvested fall honey, and it tastes divine and sweet. She knows they also keep a reserve at the clinic to treat wounds, but Paige is glad they also allow themselves consumption of it, as well. Nothing is better on Hannah’s biscuits than fresh, goldenrod honey.

Cory answers, “We went through town and tried to find him and also questioned some people. The sentries are also looking for him. The woman, Mia, said that she thinks there may be more than one spy.”

“How can that be?” Sue asks. “The people in town are so grateful for the clinic and the winter food pantry. They’d never double cross us like that.”

“No, they wouldn’t, Susan,” Doc says. “But, that being said, we don’t always get to personally vet every person that is admitted into our town. We have a review committee who has been taking care of that for the last six months. They could’ve allowed someone in.”

“What if it’s the thief? What if he’s not from the town or new to the town but sneaking in from the outside?” Reagan puts forth. “He could be the one stealing from our coffers and from the clinic and then running back out to meet with this Mike asshole to report in about us.”

“That’s a very real possibility,” John says and touches her forearm gently, reassuringly. She seems very stressed out. Her green eyes dart around nervously.

“Yes, honey,” Doc says. “It could be our town thief. We know there were two people working together because the boys killed one and the other escaped. That would explain why Mia believes there to be more than one person working within our community.”

“Right,” Derek agrees. “We’re going back to town today to conduct a more extensive search and to question people one at a time. With all the people we know and are in contact with on a weekly basis, someone has to know something or has seen something out of the ordinary.”

“I want to go, too,” Reagan says.

“No, babe,” John interjects. “I know what you’re thinking. We’re supposed to be having a clinic day today, but that’s not gonna happen, not now, not after last night.”

“But we have patients who need help,” she argues. “I can’t abandon our patients, John.”

“We’ll see, honey,” Doc says to her. “John wants Cory to take you and Paige over to view the… men who attacked Samantha and Simon last night. You both had a better view of the remaining Target men that night. You may recognize them. If you do, then we’ll know it was that group. If not, we’re back to trying to figure out who those men were last night and why they would’ve attacked the kids.”

Paige can tell how upset this makes Reagan. Her first priority is her family and secondly her patients at the clinic. According to her brother, the family has waged war with many groups over the years in order to help those too weak to protect themselves, or just to keep the family safe from harm. This may not be the men who attacked their farm already and escaped. They have acquired many enemies.

“That woman hasn’t seen a doctor since she got pregnant,” Derek says. “Maybe one of us can run you over there today to look at her.”

“She sure seems skinny,” Kelly tells them. “Really skinny with a giant basketball under her shirt.”

Hannah sighs and says, “Poor thing.”

“Don’t feel too sorry for her, Hannie,” Reagan corrects. “She was shooting at our men.”

This causes Hannah to frown and refrain from further comment.

“I think one of us should go over there, nonetheless,” Doc corrects her. “She should definitely be seen, and I believe we may have a bottle of folic acid in the basement storage. If she’s that far along, she should have the supplements until she delivers. It may be the best we can offer for a while.”

“Yes, I’ll go, Grandpa,” Reagan says. “You stay here.”

“I’ll probably ride along with the men to town. It may go easier questioning people if I’m there. They trust me.”

Reagan frowns at her grandfather’s idea, but Paige has to admit that it probably makes the most sense. The people of their town look to Herb for guidance and advice. They see him as if he’s the one in charge.

“We’re going to need to speak with people in town as soon as possible,” Derek says.

“We should check in with Sheriff Jay, too,” John says with a fatigued smirk.

“Agreed,” Doc says. “A few of us should venture over there and speak with him. It only makes sense. Maybe Mr. Hernandez has heard something or seen people who might not look familiar to their own town.”

Paige knows that this is the man who decided to secede from their town and form his own. She couldn’t possibly think any less of him.

“Their town?” Kelly asks with a sardonic grin. “Not much of a town. Idiot should’ve stayed with our town, at least until spring. I still don’t know how they’ll make it through winter, especially if it’s starting out this way.”

Paige shivers just remembering the hard snow that fell last night. She hopes it isn’t typical of the local weather.

“That’s up to them now,” Reagan says coolly. “They made their choice.”

“Maybe it’s him,” Sue offers.

Doc says, “I don’t think so, Susan. Mr. Hernandez is many things, but a thief I would doubt. He’s too stubborn to see his ideas through and prove to the town that his plan will work.”

“Right, stubborn idiot,” Kelly agrees.

“Those of you who haven’t slept yet should rest up a few hours,” Doc says. “It’s going to be a very long day or next few days.”

Within twenty minutes, Cory is driving Paige and Reagan over to Sam’s house to inspect the dead bodies. It’s a grisly job, and one she’d much rather pass on to someone else. She has to hold back many times from running behind the nearest tree and vomiting.

“I told John I didn’t think I’d recognize any of them,” Reagan tells them as they head back to the car. “It was dark.”

“Yeah,” Paige concurs. “I might’ve been able to help if the attack had happened during the day.”

“It was worth a shot,” Cory says as they drive to the Johnson farm.

Paige really doesn’t relish the idea of visiting Cory’s former lover, Evie, but she knows that Reagan wants to check out this woman prisoner, Mia. It doesn’t take them long to arrive. Paige volunteers to wait in the car, but they won’t listen to her and insist she go inside with them. Zach Johnson and Cory immediately escort Reagan to the basement where they are keeping Mia. Paige is shown into the family room by Zach’s wife where a fire is burning in the fireplace. It feels toasty and warm after trudging around in the three inches of slushy, heavy snow looking at dead bodies. His wife, Sheryl, leaves to fix them a hot beverage while Paige removes her gloves to warm her hands in front of the fireplace.

“Oh, hey!” Evie says behind her. “I didn’t know you guys were coming over.”

Paige nods uncomfortably as Evie rushes over and hugs her as if they are long lost friends.

“I’m so glad for a visit,” she says. “It gets boring around here, especially once the weather gets crappy like it is.”

“Well, you’re welcome to come over to the farm,” Paige jokes. “No shortage of people over there.”

“I know,” Evie says, swiping a pale wisp of blonde hair behind her ear. “Getting kind of crowded over there, huh?”

“Sort of,” she admits. “Reagan’s father is living out in our cabin. We’re all in the house. It’s a little crowded you could say.”

“If you ever need to get outta’ there, you’re welcome to hang out over here with Sheryl and me.”

Her offer surprises Paige, who nods and smiles. “Thanks.”

“Have a seat, Paige,” Evie offers and sits next to the fire in a rocker.

She takes her up on the offer and sits in the opposite chair.

“This is probably going to take a while,” Cory’s former lover explains. “You’ve never had kids, right?”

“What? No! No way, none for me,” Paige explains, getting a laugh from Evie.

“This Mia woman is in pretty bad shape,” Evie tells her as Sheryl come in carrying a tray with a teapot and cups and saucers on it. She pours them each a cup of hot tea as Evie continues. “Chet stayed a few hours extra last night just to help keep an eye on her. We let her get a hot bath. I had to wait in the bathroom with her while she bathed with a gun pointed right at her. Talk about a rough start to a new friendship.”

Paige chuckles and so does Sheryl.

“She’s really nice,” Zach’s wife says as she adds a touch of honey to Paige’s tea.

“That’s good,” Paige says.

“Yeah,” Evie agrees. “I loaned her some clean clothes. She was more than grateful. This morning I took her down some breakfast and a pitcher of warm milk. She needs the nutrition. I worry that she’s going to have complications or the baby will.”

“That’s too bad,” Paige says.

“Late term malnourishment can’t be a good thing,” Evie says. “I remember a friend of mine who didn’t gain enough weight at the end of her pregnancy ended up having a baby that was underweight and early. I hope that doesn’t happen. Mia is very thin and undernourished, to the point of looking gaunt.”

“I bet a lot of women are now,” Paige sympathizes.

“Hey, Mom!” one of Sheryl’s kids calls from another room. “Can you help me with something?”

“It never ends,” Sheryl says and leaves the room.

“So how’s it going with Cory?” Evie asks out of the blue, startling Paige and causing her to cough.

“Wh… what do you mean?”

Evie smiles at her over the rim of her china cup, “Nothing. I just know that you two don’t always get along.”

“Oh, fine. We’re fine,” Paige says and looks at the liquid in her own cup instead of at the other woman.

“He’s pretty infatuated with you, ya’ know,” Evie says slyly.

Paige nearly chokes on her tea again but shakes her head instead. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, he is. Believe me, he is. Cory’s a very private person, has a lot of issues, but he can’t hide everything. No matter how hard he tries.”

“I think you’re seeing something through the wrong set of eyeglasses,” Paige tries to joke.

“No, he does,” she says. “But that’s ok. Don’t make it too easy for him. Cory needs someone who will challenge him sometimes. He can be very…”

“Caveman-like?” Paige jokes and gets a loud laugh from the other woman. She has no intention of having a discussion about Cory with his former lover.

“Yes, that’s him exactly,” she agrees. “But he’s a good person. He’s just been through a lot. So have you, Paige. You two definitely have that in common.”

“Wait, I’m not interested in Cory if that’s what you’re getting at,” she says, trying to dissuade Evie.

“You should be,” she contradicts. “I’ve never seen him like he is around you. I think you have him just a little bit rattled, and that’s a good thing.”

“No, Evie,” she says and holds up her hand. “I’m not…”

“And he might be good for you, too,” she says.

This conversation has taken a turn down a road that Paige doesn’t want to travel. She squirms in her chair.

“What?” she asks breathlessly.

“The one person who might have a problem with it would be Kelly,” Evie says. “Oh, and your brother, of course.”

“Why would Kelly have a problem?” she asks, too curious not to.

“He’s so protective of Cory. He’ll probably think he’s too young and not mature enough to handle a relationship. Six months ago, I would’ve agreed. But he’s changed a lot since he came home. I think it was really hard on the family when he was gone, but honestly, I also think that the time away was good for him. He’s more independent now and definitely a lot more able to handle just about any situation that would come his way.”

“Well, that’s great for him, but I’m not interested in Cory. We can barely stand being in each other’s company.”

“Hm,” Evie says with more intuition than Paige would like.

Reagan enters the room as Evie is about to say something else, and it thankfully stops her.

“Look, I’ve got a problem down there,” Reagan starts, oblivious that other people may have been having a conversation. Cory is right on her heels.

“What’s going on?” Paige asks and rises from her chair. Cory’s eyes dart nervously from her to Evie.

“She’s in labor,” Reagan reveals.

“Oh,” Paige exclaims. “What can we do?”

“You? Nothing,” she says. “But I had Cory call over to the farm for Simon or Grandpa to get the shed ready. She’s not full term. I’m guessing and from what she thinks, the patient is about thirty-four weeks or so. That’s early.”

“Crap,” Paige says. “What are you going to do?”

“Well, if I had a hospital and access to the right kind of drugs I could do an ultrasound and give her meds to slow it down or stop it. But I think at this point it’s too far along anyway. She said this is her first, so she didn’t know the symptoms she’s been feeling for the last few days were labor.”

Reagan runs a hand through her hair, a messy mop of curls pulled back into a bun of complete disarray.

“Is it safe to take her back to the farm?” Paige asks nervously. This woman shot at them the night before, and there are so many children and people on the farm who are unable to protect themselves, especially Hannah.

Cory answers for Reagan, “Oh, yeah. She’s not a threat. Zero.”

“Yeah,” Reagan confirms. “What the hell’s she gonna do? Get up in the middle of pushing out a kid to take us all out? She’s safe, not a threat, but scared. We’ll keep a guard on the shed while we’re in there with her. Kelly had handcuffs that we got at that sheriff’s office a few years ago. We could always cuff her to the bed.”

“That sounds like a pleasant way to give birth,” Evie remarks.

“You ready to go?” Cory turns and asks her.

Paige nods uncomfortably, more than ready to leave. “Yes, sure. We were just… talking anyway…”

“I see that,” Cory says as Reagan leaves the room. “It’s not like I expected to come up and find you working. We all knew that wasn’t happening.”

Paige glares at him. “Who do you think did your chores while you were out being Ranger Boy yesterday?”

He pauses at the door a long time before saying, “Probably Sue.”

Then he does leave, which angers Paige even more. Evie just chuckles.

“See what I mean?” she asks the other woman, who just smirks knowingly.

Paige groans and goes to the enclosed back porch where she pulls on her coat and boots again.

“Oh, hey,” she says to Evie. “Hannah sent this over.”

She hands Evie the bag with two jars of honey and three dozen eggs. They often trade with the Johnson and Reynolds families. Sheryl and Evie knit and crochet scarves and gloves for them, and their family raises meat chickens and dairy cows, which helps to keep the McClane herd going. Hannah told her that the Johnson’s have been out of honey for a few months and that their chickens have temporarily slowed down laying eggs. They don’t have quite the set-up that the McClane family does, so there are many times that the guys go over to their home to help out with rigging up new ways to source power and fuel.

Before they leave for home with Mia in tow, Paige notices that Cory hugs Evie Johnson. This causes Paige to bite the inside of her cheek as they pull away. Reagan is driving while Cory keeps an eye on their captive, who only seems concerned for her own well-being and less worried about shooting them. When they arrive home a few minutes later, they escort Mia to the shed. She is a ball of nerves, her hands still zip tied together. Doc comes onto the back porch. A plume of gray smoke is coming from the chimney above the medical shed.

“Cory,” Reagan orders firmly, “get the backup genny going. We may have to incubate this baby. I don’t want the generator out here to fail in case we do. And add some more wood to the fire.”

Everyone jumps into motion, following her and Doc’s orders. Paige pulls clean sheets and blankets from a cabinet while Reagan helps Mia get into a hospital gown. Paige drags the room divider over to offer the woman more privacy. She feels sorry for her. Mia doesn’t know any of them. She has to be scared out of her mind.

Cory reappears and then leaves again to run another errand for Reagan as Paige lays out a full drawer of medical instruments on a tray for her. Simon even comes into the building a moment later.

“What are you doing out here?” Paige whispers fervently and takes him to the side.

“I need to be present for this,” he tells her.

“You should be sleeping,” she reminds Simon, who is staring at her as if she is just being a nuisance.

“I’m all right,” he says. “I need the obstetrics practice.”

Herb comes over to them and says, “Good, good, you’re awake.”

“There goes my needing rest theory,” Paige mumbles.

Herb smiles and touches her shoulder before saying to Simon, “This baby isn’t waiting. She’s five centimeters already. We’re not going to stop it now.”

“Oh, goodness,” Paige frets. She notices that Simon just gives a firm nod to Herb.

“What can I do?” her brother asks.

“Come with me, Simon,” he says and leads Simon away.

Reagan is speaking in her no-nonsense manner with the patient, who is panting and moaning.

“Get Sue,” Reagan tells her when Paige makes eye contact.

“Yes, on it,” Paige says with a nod and rushes from the shed.

The wind whips up and stings her cheeks. The snow from last night has subsided, but the gray cloud cover does not allow for the sun to shine through. None of the damn snow has melted, and Paige slips and almost falls as she jogs to the house.

“Careful, Red,” Cory says as he falls into step beside her. “Wouldn’t want you to bruise your bony butt.”

She just shoots him a testy look and says, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine without your unwarranted advice. Why don’t you worry about Evie Johnson instead?”

“Oh, I do. Believe me, I worry about her all the time. She’s not like you, not a survivor like you that she could be on her own.”

Paige tries not to groan aloud but fails. Cory grabs her hand and pulls her to a walking pace beside him.

“Doesn’t stop me from worrying about you, too, though,” he adds more quietly.

Paige tugs her hand away before anyone can see. Then she looks directly up at him and says, “I don’t need you to.”

“Not gonna stop me, Red,” he says with a cocky smirk.

“Did Kelly go to town with Derek to question people?” she asks.

“No, we’re going… well, we were supposed to be going right now, but this baby being born thing is slowing us down.”

“She really could’ve timed it better,” Paige jokes. “So inconsiderate!”

“Exactly!” Cory says with a loud laugh. “Women.”

Against her better judgment, Paige laughs as they climb the back porch together.

“We’ll probably go soon,” he says as he removes his boots. “It’s not like they’re gonna need us lugs around to help a woman give birth.”

“That’s very true,” she says. “You’d just scare her.”

He chuckles under his breath.

“I want to go with you guys to town. I might be able to help,” she says as they go inside to the kitchen. Hannah is standing at the stove placing rags in a pot of boiling water with G’s help.

“That’s a good idea,” Derek says to her. “Thanks, Paige, for volunteering.”

“Wait, she’s not going,” Cory interjects.

“She might be able to finger the thief or the informant if we catch him. She’s one of the few family members that saw the Target idiots up close.”
Cory grits his teeth together and sends her a nasty glare. “I don’t think…”

“It’s settled, Cor,” Kelly says as he also joins them in the kitchen. He immediately crosses the room to kiss Hannah on the back of the neck.

“I don’t get a say?” Cory asks.

Kelly laughs at him and says, “Why would you get a say? Derek’s the C.O. And I’m the big bro, sucka’. So, no! You don’t get a say.”

“Bullshit,” Cory says under his breath and leaves the room.

“Derek,” Paige says to gain his attention, “Reagan sent me in to get Sue. I think she feels like Sue would be helpful.”

“I’ll find her,” he says and heads toward the stairs.

“When will we leave for town?” she asks Kelly, who is in the middle of bugging his wife and being reprimanded for it.

“Soon,” he returns. “Don’t wanna’ be out overnight if we can help it. The way this weather’s been, we don’t want to get stuck in another snow storm. But just to be safe, gather what you need for an overnight. We’ve been talking about leaving a sentry from here in town at the clinic until this passes. We can’t afford for any more shit to get stolen.”

Hannah slides her hand up his bearded face in a loving manner. And then she slaps the back of his skull with a loud crack.

“Not in the kitchen, heathen,” she reprimands and turns back to her work.

“Sorry, baby,” he sulks. He leaves a moment later.

“That got rid of him!” G remarks with a laugh.

“Exactly my plan,” Hannah says with a sly smile. “I have too much to do without them having a meeting in my kitchen.”

“What can I do to help?” Paige volunteers.

Why don’t you go and pack for the trip? If you get back down here in time, I’ll give you a chore.”

“Thanks, Hannah,” Paige answers and runs upstairs to her shared room. Sam is awake and drawing at the desk in front of the window.

“How’re you feeling?” she asks her little friend.

“Doing great!” Sam says in an unusually optimistic and chipper mood, especially given last night’s events.

Paige jams some fresh clothing into a backpack and grabs an extra sweater.

“What are you doing?” Sam asks.

“Going to town with the guys,” she tells her. “They think I might be able to point out one of the Target men during their interrogations.”

“That’s a good idea,” her friend says.

“Cory didn’t think so.”

“Of course, he wouldn’t,” Sam says. “He worries so much about everyone.”

“Well, that’s not going to stop me. We have to catch these jerks before they come back here.”

“I hope we do,” Sam says.

“You’re in an awfully good mood for what you went through last night.”

Samantha doesn’t answer, but she does pause in her drawing with a coy smile on her face.

“No reason,” she says evasively and goes back to her work. “Just glad everything worked out.”

“Oh, all right. If you say so,” Paige says and slings her pack over her shoulder. “Hey, before I leave, there’s a woman, that prisoner from last night, out in the shed giving birth.”

“I heard,” Sam says calmly. “I’ll go out soon and see if they need my help. With Simon here, I can’t imagine they’ll want me, too.”

“Maybe not. He seems pretty interested in it. I’d better get moving. See you later, Sam.”
“Ok, tell Hannah I’ll be down soon to help with dinner,” she requests.

When Paige gets back to the kitchen, she is instantly put on potato peeling duties.

“We need to pack these bags, G,” Hannah instructs a while later. “These guys are leaving in a minute, so let’s hurry.”

“Got it,” G answers.

“How’s your father feeling?” Paige asks.

Gretchen shrugs and answers, “Not great, but better than a few weeks ago.”

“He’s getting around a little better, but he still seems weak,” Hannah adds. “He’s so skinny and frail. That can’t be good.”
“You should check out the pregnant woman,” Paige tells them. “Talk about skinny and frail.”

“Then I’m glad she’s here,” Hannah admits. “I’ll fatten her up in no time.”

“I don’t know if the family is going to want her staying here on any type of permanent basis,” Paige reminds her.

“We can’t turn her out, either,” she insists. “It’s winter. That would be a death sentence.”

“We could always get her set up with a family in town,” Paige suggests.

“That’s a good idea, too,” Hannah says. “But until she’s back on her feet and the baby is cleared by Grandpa and Reagan to be moved, she’s going to need to stay here.”

“True,” Paige says. “I just hope they’re both ok. I know the doctors are concerned that the baby is early.”

“I know,” Hannah whispers.

Soon she is on the road to town, squeezed into the pick-up truck between Lucas and Cory in the back seat while Derek drives and Kelly rides shotgun. Everyone else has been left back at the farm to keep watch on the place while they are gone. She is nervous that they’ll find someone she recognizes in town, but Paige is also anxious that they won’t and that the Target group will come back to the farm, their safe haven.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Reagan

“John, we have to get this running,” she says with a high degree of panic to her husband, who should be resting but refuses to. They are working with a very antiquated infant incubator and are not having success getting it to work on their electrical outlet.

“Simon’s on it,” he says. “And…your dad.”

“What?” Reagan asks quietly.

“He came to the house to make sure everyone was still all right this morning. Your grandpa told him about Mia, and how we need the incubator running in case the baby needs life support. He volunteered to work on it with Simon.”

Reagan scratches her head and frowns. She’d rather he just stay out in his cabin with his wife, but they really do need the machine to work correctly for the baby. According to Mia, she thinks that she conceived seven and a half to eight months ago. She didn’t seem to want to give up any more information about the subject other than that.

“What the hell does he know about how much electric this thing is going to use or whatever you guys were talking about?” she asks angrily.

“I don’t know, honey,” her husband says softly as she continues to wipe down and sterilize the inside of the machine. “I think he’s just trying to help.”

“If the baby is too early and can’t breathe on its own, then we’ll have to intubate and use the mechanical ventilator, which is going to draw on the generator even more.”

“I know,” John murmurs and kisses her forehead.

“This isolette has to work,” she explains. “If it doesn’t, then we could lose this baby.”

“Easy, babe,” John says as he touches her shoulder. “Don’t even think like that. Just put your doctor brain to work. You and Herb will do everything you can to help her and her baby.”

“Right,” Reagan says with a nod.

“I’ll finish this,” John says. “G’s coming out to help with sterilizing everything. Hannah is sending another bucket of hot water, too.”

“’Kay,” she says and takes a deep breath.

“You’ve got this,” he says reassuringly, to which Reagan nods.

She joins her grandfather in the other section of the shed again and studies his notes. Sue is sitting near Mia’s head giving her advice and keeping her calm.

“For being anxious to get out, the little guy sure is taking his time,” Grandpa explains. “No progression.”

Her father comes into the shed a moment later as Reagan reviews notes and adds a few of her own to Mia’s chart. He sends her a curt nod but keeps going with Simon to the back where the isolette is located in a corner. Kelly found it on a run a few years ago in Kentucky. At the time, Reagan thought they’d never need it. Now she’s more than eternally grateful he found it. She just hopes it still works.

Reagan takes a moment to listen to the baby’s heartbeat, which is nice and fast. Not long after, the electricity dims and almost goes out.

“We’ve got it running,” Simon runs over to tell them.

They travel to the back of the shed, where Reagan tries not to make eye contact with her worthless father.

Grandpa says, “That draw on the generator isn’t going to work. We need a steady power supply if the baby requires the isolette.”

“I agree,” Reagan says. “If it goes out or dims like that while the baby is in it, then it could impact the ventilator and heat source. We need consistency.”

“We may have to take the baby into the big house with us,” John suggests.

“What about the woman?” Robert asks. “Do you think she could be a threat?”

“I don’t think so at all,” Grandpa says. “She seems grateful for food, shelter, and help with the birth. I don’t think she’d cross us.”

“Let’s just play it by ear,” Robert suggests. “If the baby needs to be incubated, we could take it to the house.”

“Right,” John agrees. “And we could keep the mother in your room, Doc. Just until she’s back on her feet. Then we could find her somewhere to live in town or the Johnson’s said they could take her in.”

“That would be fine, John,” Grandpa adds. “The incubator would fit in the space at the foot of my bed, as well.”

“I think you guys should move it now,” Reagan says. “If the baby needs help breathing, we can bag him until we get him moved into the house. If you turn that on out here and something happens with Mia that we’d need more power, it could lead to another problem.”

“We’ll move it now, babe,” John volunteers.

“I’ll help,” Simon offers.

Her father touches her arm as she turns to go, causing Reagan to startle and then shrink back from him.

“This is going to be a long day and night, Dr. McClane,” he says in a teasing tone. “I’ll be happy to assist or relieve you for a few hours.”

“No thanks, General,” she answers and walks away without another word. She hopes he goes back to his cabin.

She and Grandpa keep a close watch on the expectant mother and her baby as time creeps by. The afternoon turns to late afternoon, and they even eat in the shed without taking a break in the house. She doesn’t eat, though, because her stomach is sick again with morning, afternoon, night time, and pretty much all day long morning sickness. Lately, the only time she feels good is when she’s dead asleep. John comes out periodically to check on the status until Reagan finally forces him back to the house to sleep. She has to remind her big warrior that even Rangers need sleep, especially if they have to remain on watch duty until the others return from town. Her sister and Sam are in the house keeping an eye on the restless, pinned up children, which is no easy feat.

“Don’t be afraid,” Sue says to Mia. “It’s a natural thing to be scared. But you don’t have anything to be afraid of, Mia. This baby is going to come into this world with the help of two of the best obstetrics doctors in the country. You got lucky finding us.”

Mia snorts and says, “You mean while I was trying to shoot at your family?”

“Slight miscommunication,” her sister teases. This is why they wanted Sue with her. She’s been through this a few more times than the rest of them. She makes a good midwife until the blood and gore start. Reagan has a stack of smelling salts for her weak-stomached sister just in case.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Mia apologizes for the hundredth time.

“Just concentrate on your breathing,” Sue reminds her.

Mia is sweating profusely, which is normal for a woman in labor. She’s not running a fever because Reagan has checked her a few times; she is simply overexerting her already weak body.

“I fell last night,” she tells them. “I fell hard down a hill in the snow. Nobody saw it happen. I was trying to do my best. I guess I got what I deserved, but I think that might be when the labor started. I was freaking out because I thought it would hurt the baby falling like that.”

“He seems fine,” Reagan tells her. “Just try to relax when you can. Breathe through the contractions.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mia says.

“How old are you?” Sue asks.

“Twenty-one,” Mia answers, surprising Reagan. She would’ve guessed older than that. “I don’t think I’m even old enough to be someone’s mom.”

“We all say that,” Sue says soothingly. “It’ll come naturally. You’ll see.”

An hour later, Reagan’s father relieves her whether she wants him to or not, so she heads for the house to eat dinner that Hannah and Sam have prepared. They have the food set out on the kitchen island in a buffet style. Sam is in the music room entertaining the children with a game of make believe.

“How’s she doing?” Hannah asks.

Reagan piles chicken and mashed potatoes onto her plate and sits at the island. “Very slowly. Dilated to a six. This could go all night.”

“You should try to sleep a few hours,” Hannah states.

“I’ll be fine. I’m used to the bizarre hours,” Reagan tells her little sister.

“You’re pregnant, too, Reagan,” Hannah reminds her. “Don’t try to be like you were before. This baby is going to slow you down whether you want it to or not.”

“I know. Trust me, this body knows that it has been invaded by this alien creature,” Reagan complains with a frown.

Hannah finds her way to Reagan and runs her hand from Reagan’s shoulder down to her stomach, which is still relatively flat.

“Don’t listen to her, baby,” Hannah coos. “She’s just being a negative Nelly.”

Reagan scoffs and removes her sister’s hand from her stomach. “No, I’m not. This isn’t the best decision I’ve ever made, not that I made it in the first place.”

“God wants you to have this baby, Reagan,” Hannah scolds as she fixes her own plate and then sits next to her on another island chair. “If He didn’t, you wouldn’t have gotten pregnant, silly.”

She doesn’t have the heart to remind Hannah that she got pregnant because they were careless and thought she couldn’t. Reagan just mumbles an answer to her sister. She tries to eat quickly so that she can get back to her patient in the shed.

“Oh,” Reagan murmurs and touches her nauseous stomach.

“Yep, you need to slow down,” Hannah tells her. “Feeling sick?”

“Yeah, a little,” she answers.

“You have to eat slowly, too,” Hannah offers as if she is the doctor. “I was pretty sick with Mary, remember?”

“Of course, I do,” Reagan says testily. “I was your O.B., remember?”

Hannah just chuckles at her. “Take it easy, Reagan. You aren’t going to rush your way through this. It’s not up to you.”

And right there is the one thing Reagan hadn’t wanted to hear, not from anyone.

“This sucks,” Reagan hisses and takes a small bite of potatoes.

“Yes, it pretty much does, but there’s a nice payoff in the end,” Hannah says with a smile.

“Shitty diapers?”

Hannah downright scowls at her and says, “Reagan! No, not just messy diapers. You know full well what the payoff is. Look at Jacob.”

Reagan refrains from answering and tries to concentrate instead on the patient in the shed. She doesn’t want to share her secret worries and reasons for her disappointment in her unwanted pregnancy status. Hannah would never understand. Her world view is different from Reagan’s.

“I can’t eat another bite,” Reagan says and attempts to rise, only to be stopped by her sister.

“Wait, I made desert,” she says and pulls the cake stand closer to them. She lifts the lid to reveal a pie.

“I guess I’m not as full as I thought,” Reagan says with a grin and pulls her sister close, touching forehead to forehead with her. It’s something she used to do all the time. “What’s up with the crust? It looks like I made it.”

Hannah chuckles and holds her finger to her lips to shush her.

“This is one of the pies G made. Since we had so many leftover apples from the fall harvest, I figured I’d teach G how to make pie. She just needs some practice rolling the dough a little thinner. Simon and Sam found a lot of sugar in that hospital. No sense in it going to waste.”

“Absolutely splendid use of resources,” Reagan agrees as Hannah slices them both a small piece. “I don’t really care what it looks like. It smells awesome. Did you use the scraps of dough and make another sweet?”

“Of course. We don’t throw anything in this kitchen out! I showed her how to make Grams’s pie dough cookies. I know some of the little kids don’t like pie, so they can have those. We rolled them in butter and sugar. That ought to get them hopped up before bed later. Want to grab the whipped cream out of the fridge?”

“Are you serious? Whipped cream, too?”

Hannah laughs and says, “Of course. That Jersey is putting off some seriously dense milk. Might as well use a little cream now and then to make a sugary treat. We have plenty of butter.”

“Again, this is a brilliant idea,” Reagan teases and adds a big dollop to both pieces.

“Are you thinking about names yet?” Hannah asks once they are seated again.

Reagan frowns and says, “I’m not that far along yet, Hannie. I could still miscarry, or the pregnancy could abort. We don’t exactly have the same access to necessary resources.”

“Neither did our ancestors and yet, here we are.”

“Ever the optimist,” Reagan says under her breath.

“I hope it’s a girl. John would love a girl.”

This surprises Reagan. “Has he told you that?”

“No, not in so many words. But he’s over the moon about it. He’s such a great father. You’re so lucky.”

As she feels the food churning badly in her stomach, Reagan would like to tell Hannah that she doesn’t, in this moment, feel so lucky at all. It feels more like a curse.

“I already used Grams’s name,” Hannah says. “You’ll have to come up with another one.”

“It could be a boy,” she reminds her as she finishes Hannah’s fantastic pie.

“I doubt it. I think it’s going to be a girl. I hope she gets your curls,” Hannah remarks and touches Reagan’s hair.

“What? Why would you wish this on anyone?”

“Because it’s more interesting than flat hair. It makes you unique.”

“This kid is doomed,” Reagan says. If her sister only knew how serious she truly was about that statement. “Well, I’d better get back out there.”

“John moved the incubator to Grandpa’s room. Sam, G, and I went in and changed out the sheets on the bed and rearranged the room a little. John said he wanted a guard’s chair set outside the room in case you guys move her in there later.”

“I think she should maybe stay out in the shed,” Reagan says, rethinking the situation as she overhears the kids squealing at something Sam must be doing. She’d come out to the shed earlier to assist, but they’d insisted that she stay in the house and help with the kids instead. They all love Sam, and she’s great with them.

“I don’t know,” Hannah says. “She’s going to need to nurse or pump for the baby. Plus, she’ll have a little privacy in there and her own bathroom.”

“This isn’t a hotel for assholes that try to kill us, Hannie,” Reagan says sternly.

“I understand,” her sister says, although Reagan highly doubts that she feels any differently about allowing the woman into their home.

“Hear from Kelly yet?” she asks.

“Oh, yes, they called in a while ago. They made it to town safely,” her sister says with a smile of relief, something that Reagan also feels.

When she returns to the shed, Mia has dilated to an eight. They are getting closer. She hands the picnic basket full of food to Grandpa, who will share in the spoils with Simon in the back of the shed. She knew her grandfather would never leave the shed. And Simon seems just as concerned about their patient. He is wearing scrubs, as does Grandpa. She’ll soon change into a set, as well.

She listens to Mia’s heart and then the baby’s. Simon hands her the woman’s chart.

“She just had a contraction, a pretty strong one,” Simon tells her as he takes the stethoscope and places it on the rolling cart beside him.

“Hey, Simon,” Reagan states with apprehension. “Your arm’s bleeding.”

“Oh,” he says without concern.

“What’d you do?” she asks and holds his arm high so she can look at the underside. “Looks like your stitches might be seeping just a little.”

“Must’ve pulled them helping John move the incubator. It’ll be fine.”

“Let me at least rewrap it,” she offers.

“What happened to your arm?” Mia asks with concern, sweat running down her forehead.

“He was stabbed last night,” Reagan tells her. “By one of your asshole friends.”

“Oh, my God,” Mia states.

“You better not talk like that around our sister,” Reagan warns, to which Simon smiles and nods.

“I’m so sorry,” Mia says and tears let loose down her cheeks.

Grandpa lays a hand on hers and says, “Don’t do that. Just concentrate on the job at hand, young lady.”

“But we could’ve killed him. They tried to, and here he is trying to help me. What an idiot! I was so stupid.”

“It’s fine, ma’am,” Simon tells her.

“I didn’t actually shoot my gun,” she confesses. “I couldn’t remember how to do it. I pulled the trigger once and nothing happened so I decided to just hide. That’s when I fell down the hill. I was more worried that Mike would find out that I was just cowering like a chicken. He would’ve either killed or exiled me from the group.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Simon tells her as Reagan wraps clean gauze around his wound. It’s not as bad as she thought. A few of the stitches are pulled taught, but it should hold.

“I can’t believe you people are helping me after what I did,” she cries, tears literally spilling down her cheeks.

Simon shakes his head and says, “Like Doc said, just try to concentrate on the baby. Don’t worry about the rest of it. You need to conserve your strength, Mia.”

“Oh, and if you try anything while you’re on our farm, we’ll shoot you and bury your body in the woods,” Reagan threatens.

“Reagan,” Grandpa reprimands in a serious tone.

“I was gonna add that we’d at least mark the grave. Geesh, I’m not totally heartless,” she jokes and gets a grin from Simon before he pushes his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.

Mia weeps softly, and Grandpa gives her a handkerchief. Her next wave of contractions makes her quickly forget all about her regrets. Grandpa and Simon finish their meal and join her as another series starts up again. Reagan checks her again. Mia is fully dilated and ready to push.

Shortly after seven p.m., Mia delivers her baby, and it isn’t good. The baby can’t be more than five pounds. Reagan clears his airways, but nothing happens. The baby certainly isn’t breathing. She can hear Sue trying to reassure Mia as Simon encourages her to wait patiently and breathe through her next series of contractions. She is far from done. Reagan cuts the cord with medical scissors and clamps it. Simon deals with the mother as Reagan and her grandfather work on the baby. Grandpa uses the bulb syringe and sucks out fluid from his small mouth and nose again. He handles the baby more roughly than her, rubbing his back and then his chest. He doesn’t panic, although Reagan feels a certain amount of hysteria rising within her. If the baby can’t breathe on its own, then they’ll have to intubate.

“Come on, little one,” Grandpa says patiently and holds the baby in one palm on its tummy. Then he pats his back firmly quite a few times. Finally, the baby coughs and sucks a deep breath. “Good job, little guy.”

Grandpa places him on the medical bassinet on his back, and the baby cries out in a righteous rage at them. Her grandfather smiles down at him. Reagan’s pretty sure she sees tears in his eyes.

“Without the proper equipment, I think we should bag him,” he tells her firmly. “His lungs are still pretty weak, but he’s giving it all he’s got to breathe.”

Reagan listens to the tiny baby’s lung function, noticing what her grandfather had, that the lungs are not sufficiently pumping. The sound is weak and a little dirty.

“Should we start him on steroids?” Simon asks from his position behind them while he still works on the mother.

“Excellent suggestion, Dr. Murphy,” Grandpa praises. “But we don’t want to harm the intestines or the brain. For now, we’ll bag him. Then we’ll get him moved into the house to the incubator. If we need to, then we’ll use the mechanical ventilator. I’m hoping a little oxygen through a tube will be all he needs.”

Reagan knows that they weren’t going to run steroids through an IV on the baby. That was not a perfect solution for her and her grandfather, but for Simon, who is still learning, it was astute and shows how much progress he’s made. The steroids will give his lungs an extra boost to getting to full functionality a little bit faster, but they can sometimes cause too much hardship on other organs. If Mia had been with them for a few days even before the labor started, then steroids could’ve been run through an IV on her. She read a study once a long time ago about a possible link between autism and premature babies who were given postnatal steroids. It was fascinating but never fully vetted and eventually swept under the research company’s rug, likely care of the big pharmaceutical companies’ threats, those same huge pharmaceutical companies that used to run America’s medical industry.

“Like a CPAP?” Simon asks.

“Exactly what I mean,” Grandpa says. “The ventilator will be the last thing we use. With that cry, I know he can breathe. I just don’t want him to get lazy on us.”

Reagan smiles. She knows he is worried because she can see it in the little frown lines on his forehead and around his eyes. But he is hiding it well, as always.

“Son, you take over for me with the baby,” Grandpa suggests as he trades places with Simon.

The woman has released the placenta and is mostly lying there exhausted and worried about her baby. Grandpa will check her a final time before packing sterile cloths against her to keep up with the bleeding.

“I don’t know how you can tell what you’re doing,” Simon remarks quietly beside her as Reagan preps an IV line.

Reagan grabs the breathing apparatus and bags the baby boy, forcing his tiny lungs to work correctly. He’s going to need life support. Grandpa immediately returns and starts putting the baby through a series of tests to check his body functions and heart rhythm.

“Sounds good, pumping strong,” he declares. “We’re going to need to transport him to the house.”

“I’ll get John,” Sue says and leaves the room, grabbing her winter coat as she goes.

“Is he ok?” Mia keeps calling frantically.

“Simon, start the IV,” Reagan orders.

Grandpa rushes to the woman’s side as Reagan keeps squeezing the bag in a counted, rhythmic compression.

Her grandfather explains to Mia, “He’s small, dear. But his heart sounds good. He seems fine other than needing a little help breathing. We’ll get him moved into his incubator where he’ll be toasty warm. Then we’ll have you breastfeed him. You may have to pump. Don’t worry. We have a mechanical pump.”

“Man, he’s so tiny,” Simon whispers. “I don’t know if I can hit a vein with this IV.”
“It’s the smallest one we’ve got,” she says. “Take a deep breath. You can do it, Professor.”

Simon’s nervous gaze meets hers right before he nods firmly and holds the baby’s arm. He swallows hard before inserting the stick into the infant’s skin. By the grace of God, he hits the vein on the first poke. The baby isn’t as appreciative because he screams at them.

“Listen to that,” Grandpa says excitedly. “I think he’s coming around. I do believe he was just trying to fool us with those dramatic shenanigans.”

Reagan knows he is just trying to appease the child’s frantic mother. She chances a quick look over her shoulder. Mia looks pale and barely lucid. Reagan certainly isn’t looking forward to doing this herself in five months. She knows how dangerous childbirth is now, the risks, and the hazards to the baby, as well.

“Now run the fluids,” Reagan instructs Simon after he has flushed the tiny IV. “Good. Slow drip on the bag. If we need to run meds later, this will make it a lot easier.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Simon replies.

She can hear Sue, who has returned, trying to reassure Mia as Simon hooks the IV to a pole. Reagan swaddles him in a blanket they had warming by the fire.

“Daniel,” Mia says weakly. “I’d like his name to be Daniel. It was my father’s name.”

“Good girl. A good strong biblical name. You did just fine, young lady,” Grandpa praises as John comes into the room. He averts his eyes from the half nude patient, who is still lying there with her legs in stirrups.

“You’re doing great,” Sue praises the woman. She has been wiping their patient’s forehead and encouraging her. Her sister is a great midwife. “Mia, you’re doing just fine. Mia? Mia! Grandpa.”

The tone of her sister’s voice alerts Reagan that something is upsetting Sue.

“Reagan,” Grandpa calls.

His tone scares the hell out of her.

“Simon, take the baby with John to the incubator,” she orders firmly, shoves the bag into Simon’s hands, and rushes to her grandfather’s side. “We showed you how to get it set up. Work with John getting the baby in it and turned on.”

“She’s not responding,” Grandpa says. “I think she’s had a cerebral aneurysm.”

John rushes from the room, half dragging Simon by the shirt sleeve. Her husband knows this situation isn’t something he wants to be involved in, and she’s glad that he’s taking Simon with him. Their protégé doesn’t need to be traumatized by watching their patient die. He’s young, still learning. Something like this could negatively affect his view of medicine.

“Damn it!” Reagan curses and immediately pulls the cart with the defibrillator on it closer.

“I was just checking her blood pressure and pulse when I noticed she was slurring her words,” Grandpa explains.

“She was so damn weak, too weak for this. We should’ve C-sectioned her.”

“There’s no way to perform a C-section here, honey,” Grandpa says as he works at a fast pace, faster than she would think he was capable of being.

Reagan starts CPR. Grandpa warms the paddles on their defibrillator.

“Clear,” he calls out and Reagan roughly pulls Sue away, who is still sitting too close to their patient.

Grandpa hits the woman with a powerful starting voltage, causing the lights in the shed to dim. Reagan resumes chest compressions on the new mother. Grandpa lines up again.

“Clear.”

Nothing happens again, and Reagan resumes chest compressions and breathing. She can’t believe this is happening. What the fuck are they going to do with this woman’s newborn? A million thoughts speed through her mind as Grandpa applies the paddles to Mia’s chest again. She pumps another series, then Grandpa nudges her aside and does it himself. She isn’t offended. They are both just frantic to bring her back. Reagan hits her with another jolt. Grandpa keeps pumping on her chest. Reagan makes the mistake of looking into Mia’s eyes. It’s something no doctor likes to do at this point. Their patient is gone. Looking into her eyes lets her know it with absolute certainty. It’s not something she wants to see or admit. Defeat doesn’t sit well with most doctors, especially not in an emergency situation like this. They aren’t going to save her. The light is extinguished in her eyes. It won’t be relit. They work another twenty minutes on her before Grandpa calls it. Sue is crying hard in the corner, absolutely sobbing with her hands over her face. Grandpa runs a hand through his silver hair, hangs his head and removes his eyeglasses with a finality of defeat. Reagan just stands there staring at the dead woman with a devastation that has rocked her to her core.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Cory

Six hours of mindless interrogations later and they have the same as they did before, a whole lot of nothing. Paige sat in on every one of the meetings, too, and never complained once about being tired or bored. They set up in the town hall and brought first some of the families from town and then some of the newer members of their village. None of the people from town are the thief, and unfortunately for their manhunt, none of them have seen anything out of the ordinary. All they know is that the thief is still on the loose, and they are worried and frightened.

The snow from yesterday has picked up again, causing a moonless night sky to cast dark shadows in the building around them. It makes him uneasy. He’d like to ditch the family and hunt this Mike prick on his own. Cory won’t, though. His brother, Lucas, and Derek are with him, and the matter of keeping Paige safe is of utmost importance until they arrive back at the farm.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Kelly says when he returns to the meeting room after showing out their last guest, “but I think we should stick around town tonight. If we go back to the farm now, that asshole could very well come here thinking that it’s safe.”

“I agree with that,” Derek says. “We stay the night. The weather’s going to shit anyway. We can’t exactly afford to trash another vehicle.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucas says.

Cory really doesn’t care that much for Reagan’s new step-brother. The farm is becoming entirely too overcrowded for his taste. He’d like to leave again, but doesn’t want to abandon the farm, especially not now. If he left, the family could be in danger. If he left, she could be in danger, and that’s not something Cory’s willing to risk.

“We’ll bunk up in the medical house and the clinic,” Derek orders.

Cory knows that both places have been robbed. They didn’t get much at the Victorian home across the street from the clinic because there isn’t a whole lot there worth stealing other than some bedding, blankets and medical equipment that nobody would know what it was or how it worked anyway. But the clinic was hit, and that has pissed them all off. Cory wants this guy’s head on a spit. When he’d let his guard down and was clubbed over the back of his head, Cory hadn’t anticipated an enemy that was capable of flanking him. That shit won’t be repeated. This bastard has a reckoning coming.

“Got it,” Kelly says. “I’ll stay in the house with Lucas. Cory, you take Paige to the clinic. It’ll be warmer there.”

“And I’m gonna take another stroll around town,” Derek tells them. “Get some sleep and I’ll come for one of you to take the next patrol. This fresh snow is gonna make it hard to hide from us if he’s here somewhere.”

“I don’t think you should go alone, Derek,” Paige frets.

“I’m gonna walk the beat with the town sentries. The sheriff said he wants to talk to me anyway,” he says and then quickly adds, “Don’t worry, Paige. I’ve got a little experience with this sort of thing.”

“I could go, too. I can help,” she offers.

Cory just chuckles and heads for the door. He hears Derek reject the offer but thank her, nonetheless.

It takes them a while to get to the clinic with the weather conditions and blowing snow, but Cory leads the way. He waves to his brother who is across the street walking toward the huge Victorian before locking the front door to the clinic. Some of the windows are still boarded up from being shot out. Finding replacement windows for such an unusual and large opening has been impossible. With Paige’s help carrying a pile of firewood from the shed out back, Cory wastes no time getting the wood-burning stove up and running. He knows that sleep will be a long way off. It’s not even ten p.m. yet, and he’s too keyed up about their problems.

“I’ll unpack our food,” she says and digs in their packs for what she needs. None of them have eaten dinner. He didn’t eat lunch, either. They were too busy, and his stomach is growling at the prospect of whatever the girls have packed and is waiting for him.

Cory double checks the windows and the back door to make sure they are still locked. Safety and security have never been more important. When he returns to the waiting room, Paige has moved a small end table and two chairs to the center and has lit a candle. However, she is standing in front of the stove rubbing her hands together.

“Still cold?”

She laughs and says, “Uh, yeah. Froze. How can you not be? That dinky little wood-burner in the town hall wasn’t doing much. Aren’t you cold?”

“Hatred keeps me warm,” he replies with a grin.

Paige chuckles again and says, “I don’t think I have enough hatred for anything to warm myself tonight.”

“I could warm you up another way,” he offers with a crooked smile. Paige just snorts a reply and stands there shivering. “Take off your wet clothing. Your hair’s wet, too, Red. Take off that hat.”

She removes her coat, which Cory takes and hangs from a chair near the stove. Then her hat is next, followed by her wet boots.

“Don’t look,” she demands and pulls off her hoodie and undershirt.

“Really? I think I’ve already seen everything there is to see under there,” he teases.

Paige groans and retorts angrily, “Seriously. Don’t look. My jeans are soaked up to my knees. I need to change them.”

“I’m standing guard,” he tells her and peers over his shoulder at Paige. He turns back to watch out the single, remaining front window, tipping back the blinds and heavy drapery. He wasn’t looking anyway, mostly.

“Oh,” she answers as he turns back around.

He can hear her rummaging in her pack for dry clothing. Cory also needs to change but will wait until later to do so because keeping an eye on the place has to come first. When she is finished, Cory takes his food to the window where he eats while standing.

“You can sit over here if you want to,” she suggests, pointing to a chair across from her own.

“I’m good,” he returns. “Wanna’ keep an eye out for our new buddy, Mike.”

“I seriously doubt if that guy is coming to town tonight. Or any of his idiot comrades. Not in this weather.”

“You never know,” he says.

Paige tilts her head to the side and says, “I actually do know. I used to be one of the people out there. Remember?”

This makes him frown. As if he could forget that she had to survive for years on her own. He thinks about it often, and dwelling on it always strikes a pang of panic in his gut.

“What makes you think he won’t come tonight? He could be here now.”

“Because of the weather,” she explains while spooning hot soup out of her thermos. “When I was still out there on the road, we never saw movement in bad weather. It was always quiet. That was when Gavin and I would go on runs for supplies. If there was a rain storm, hail, snow, lightning even, that was the best time. It was safer. We could be in and out of a neighborhood or small town without anyone seeing us. The snow acted like an excellent camouflage, but other people apparently didn’t venture out into it. We were always safest when the weather sucked. Just something we learned. Nobody likes to come out when it’s shitty like this.”

“Maybe,” Cory contemplates as he eats his sandwich and glares out the window just the same.

She seems uncharacteristically brave tonight. Normally Paige is hesitant and leery of dangerous situations. But he has to hand it to her. She stepped up and sat in on the interviews even though he knows that she would’ve rather been at the farm where it is considerably safer.

“I know what I’m talking about,” she argues softly. “I’m not a helpless damsel in distress, you know.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Cory replies with a scowl and ventures closer to the stove where he retrieves his own thermos of hot tomato soup. He reluctantly takes a seat across from her but leans his rifle against the back of his chair. When he looks up, Paige is staring at him. The fire is catching the red of her hair and causing it to look like flames. It is nothing compared to her inner fire and spirit as he well knows. He is nothing if not caught off guard, as usual, by her beauty. “Bewitching maybe, but not helpless.”

Her mouth turns down into a disappointed frown aimed at him. Cory just grins at her.

“Tell me again what you remember about those men from the Target store, the ones who held you captive at the farm.”

“Not much, like I said before. They just seemed like criminal thug types.”

“Go on,” he urges.

“They seemed to me like the kind of assholes that never obeyed or wanted to obey the law even before the country went to crap. They acted like ex-felons, probably were. Who knows? Maybe they were all escaped convicts from some prison near here.”

There is something in her words that keeps nagging Cory. It is that same feeling he had the first time she explained the men to him. When he finally figures it out, he knows the answer will lead him to those men. Then they will all wish they had never crossed the McClanes.

“That’s all I remember,” she said.

He nods and then smiles at her, “You said I reminded you of them.”

“I know,” she agrees. “I might’ve been slightly wrong on that part.”

“Good,” Cory says smugly. “I’ve won you over then. You don’t still see me as a murdering thief.”

Paige grins at him and replies, “Hardly. Just because I don’t think you remind me of an ex-con anymore, doesn’t mean I’m won over.”

“Maybe a little,” he says.

Paige doesn’t answer but tilts her head to the side, causing her hair to fall over her shoulder.

“Maybe I should try harder,” he hints, making direct eye contact that Paige breaks first and clears her voice.

She’s wearing a light gray sweater that makes her eyes seem even grayer. Her jeans are drying over a chair, and she has changed into black leggings that are snug and only come to the middle of her calf. He’s not sure if they are supposed to fit that way or if she is just too tall for them. He hasn’t exactly ever been a big follower of women’s fashion trends. Cory does remember his mom wearing leggings like that, though, paired with oversized shirts. Paige’s feet are bare, which bothers him so he reaches into his own pack and tosses her a pair of cold weather, wool socks.

“Thanks,” Paige says after she has pulled them on. “I forgot to pack extra socks.”

“Did you remember your lip gloss, though? Or your hairspray?”

She laughs and answers, “I wish I had either of those. It would be nice to feel like a girl again.”

“You don’t look like anything but a girl to me, but who am I to judge?”

Nibbling at a cookie, she says, “You don’t understand. You’re a guy. Men were made for an apocalypse. You all can run around like cavemen and wear rags and look normal. You were made for this. We weren’t. We have special needs and concerns.”

“Like the maxi pad thing?” he asks, getting another chuckle and a nod this time. “You solved that need. For a while, at least. I don’t know how many of those you girls need actually.”

She just shakes her head. “It’s not just that. I mean, I wasn’t exactly a girly girl kind of person, but I did like looking… clean.”

“You always smell clean to me.” He’d like to tell her that he’s perfectly willing to check again if she wants him to. He would like to inspect every inch of her body, some parts more than others. The spot behind her ear, the soft skin of her shoulders that is covered in freckles, the swell of her breasts above her bra.

“That’s not all, Cory,” she reprimands with another laugh.

“Tell me,” he suggests as he, too, bites into one of Hannah’s heavenly concoctions and tries not to just think of Paige’s breasts. Hannie’s cookies take his mind off of them, a little. If she also packed cookies for Kelly tonight, his brother is going to be sorely homesick for his wife.

“It’s just different for us. There isn’t anything left to make us feel more… feminine,” she explains. “No cute heels. No wearing of dresses…”

“Hannie wears a dress almost every day,” he reminds her.

“That’s true enough,” she concedes. “But I don’t really think Hannah realizes that the world fell apart.”

He chuckles and nods. “That’s our Hannah.”

“You just don’t get it,” she says and hangs her head, eating her cookie and not talking to him anymore.

“What do you need? Tell me and I’ll get it for you, even if I have to scavenge every city in Tennessee.”

She smiles and says, “Nothing. It’s not important.”

“Lacy bras? Cute panties?” he hints. “I’d be happy to bring back some of those, but only if I get a free preview.”

She just snorts at him.

“Make-up?”

“No, I wasn’t a big make-up wearer before. I liked swimming and running, so the make-up stuff just got messy.”

“High heels? I gotta admit. I’m getting some pretty strong visuals of your gams in a pair of stilettos, Red.”

“The boots and gym shoes you got me are more appreciated,” she explains. “I told you before that I wasn’t that kind of girl. I used to do sports and stuff like that.”

“Boxing gloves? Tennis racket, then?”

She smiles patiently but shakes her head. “You don’t get it.”

Paige rises and cleans their mess. Cory packs away his own leftovers as she pushes the table back to the wall. They meet in the middle of the room when they’re done, and Cory tries not to show his disappointment when she backs up a step.

“It would just be nice to look put together and… pretty for a change. I feel like I’m always dirty and covered in mud or smell like I’ve been reloading ammo or picking weeds in the garden or cleaning out a horse stall.”

“You’re right,” he says and touches her soft cheek. “I don’t get it because you always look beautiful to me.”

It sounds corny to his ears, but Cory means every word. He finally understands what she’s trying to explain. He has also noticed that people don’t look like they used to. Women don’t strut around in stilettos and business suits. Men don’t always get a clean shave. Most people are wearing patched and sewn and re-sewn threads. Winter coats have seen better days. Cargo pants are not only convenient but sometimes necessary to carry around extra crap in the pockets, particularly ammo. Most everyone also carries a backpack, bag or duffle. And everyone totes around a weapon of some kind, even if it is a baseball bat, a tire iron, or a gun. But to Cory, Paige looks amazingly fresh and pretty all of the time. She isn’t buying it, though. She rolls her eyes at him and chuffs her disbelief.

“The smell of gun reloading isn’t unattractive, either, at least not on you.”

“Gross,” she says, wrinkling her nose.

“I’m serious,” he insists and manages to slip an arm behind her and pull her close. “You always look good, great actually. And you smell… very nice.”

To prove his point, Cory leans down and buries his nose in her soft neck, causing her to giggle and squirm. He knows this tickles. He remembers very distinctly why he knows this, and it stirs an instant lust for her, those damn memories.

“And feel good,” he says, running his hand down to cup her bottom. “And taste even better.”

He presses his luck and tries to kiss her, only to have Paige swiftly turn her head.

“Hey!” she says and steps quickly out of his embrace. “I said we can’t do that anymore. Remember? It was a one-time thing?”

“Three,” he corrects because he can’t help it. “Technically it was a three-time thing.”

She glares at him and growls. She is unsuccessfully fighting a grin.

“And you know I’ve been thinking,” he starts. “If it’s already three, then what would four make a big difference? Three, four, maybe even a five. Nobody would have to know.”

Her mouth opens softly as if she, too, is remembering their night together. It’s only been a few months since it happened, but to Cory, it feels like years. His longing for her has only grown stronger. He just wishes that she felt the same. Sometimes when he catches a glimpse of her around the farm when she doesn’t see him, he would like to tie her up, throw her over the back of his horse, and haul her away to another town for a few days or weeks or maybe even forever. She’s so damned stubborn.

“I need to use the bathroom,” she says, surprising him.

“I’ll get you a bucket of water,” he offers.

He goes outside, takes a second to relieve himself, and then empties enough water from the cistern into a five-gallon bucket for her to use for flushing the toilet in the clinic. It no longer works on its own, but it can be utilized by forcing water down directly into the bowl. Doc winterized the plumbing when the shit hit the fan, but they do use the toilets and sinks in the clinic when they are in town. When the weather gets below freezing, which isn’t often, they simply use a little antifreeze to keep the pipes from bursting. Too many people rely on their clinic for their well-being and the health of their family members.

When she is finished in the bathroom, Paige reemerges with their single candle.

“I’m going to bed,” she declares in a high, thin voice.

He purses his lips and frowns at her. Then he sighs and takes her to the back office where the single cot is located.

“Is it going to be warm enough in here for you?” he asks with concern.

“Yeah, sure,” she says and unrolls a sleeping bag. “Warmer than a lot of the places I used to sleep.”

Cory grabs a pillow from a top shelf and places it on the bed, as well. Then he reaches for a stack of blankets. He tries to hide his scowl from her. It bothers him when she says things like that, and he really doesn’t like to remember her being out there on her own, even if she was with a few friends.

“Where are you sleeping?” Paige asks him, grabbing his arm before he can leave the room.

“Right out in the lobby,” he explains gently. “Don’t be scared. I’ll be close.”

Her brow knits together with concern. He knows she’s afraid but doesn’t want to admit it.

“I’m just down the hall. Not far,” he says and reaches out to cup her cheek. Then he brushes down her wavy hair with his palm. The dampness from the snow has finally dried, but it has left her with a tangled mess. He isn’t going to tell her. She was already feeling bad about her appearance, and in his opinion, her hair just looks disheveled and sexy.

“Ok,” she finally says with a nod. “Are you going to sleep, too?”

“Pretty soon,” he tells her. “I’ll stay on watch for a while until Derek calls. If he wants me to run a trip around the town later, I’ll come and tell you before I leave.”

“Ok,” she concedes. “Get some rest.”

“Will do, ma’am,” he says with a short salute. Cory leaves the room and pulls the door shut.

“Don’t close it all the way,” Paige calls out in a panic.

He doesn’t answer but does smile and reopen the door about ten inches before leaving her. He performs a patrol by going through the clinic and then checking every available window and door and even their stockroom. The snow is still coming down but seems to have turned into a mix of snow and freezing rain, which will be a pain in the ass tomorrow. He just hopes that it doesn’t get thick enough to take down any trees back at the farm. That’s always a ton of work.

He stays up for another hour watching out those windows for movement. Derek calls in to update them that the town is a ghostly one, no movement whatsoever. Kelly reports the same thing. Three of the sentries and two of their friends in town are staying over there with his brother, and they have a game of cards going. They both tell him to get some shut-eye in case they decide to put him on duty later toward dawn. Maybe she was right about people not going out in inclement weather. He did see a little of that, too, while he was gone, but it sure as hell never stopped him.

After midnight, he finally sacks out on the sofa in the waiting room. He rests his rifle on the floor next to him but stashes his pistol under the cushion beneath him. Cory rests on his back with his arm over his head while the fire burns brightly behind him. He stoked it and added wood again after she turned in for the night so that it would keep the whole building warm. Unfortunately, it’s too hot for him, so he removes layers until he is bare-chested and only wearing his jeans. His boots are also drying by the fire. He’ll probably get up in the middle of the night to put them back on in case there is trouble.

Cory is startled out of a dream-filled slumber by someone touching his arm. He is still on his back, apparently having not moved since he fell asleep. His hand instantly finds his pistol.

“It’s just me,” Paige says.

He blinks hard and quickly asks, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she answers from her position kneeling beside him on the floor. He consults his watch to find that it is nearly one a.m.

“What happened? Is everything…”

“Nothing,” she repeats.

She proceeds to climb onto his lap. Then she does the absolutely unthinkable and pulls her sweater over her head and tosses it onto the floor. And she isn’t wearing a bra, which means that he is still dreaming, only he hadn’t been dreaming about her. He was having an anxiety dream that the farmhouse was on fire, just like the night earlier in the summer when those assholes raided it. This is way better than the stupid stress dream he’d been having. Paige nearly nude and on top of him is something he actually dreams about all the time, only they aren’t dreams but fantasies he has almost every day and usually all day when he's wide awake.

She leans down and presses her bare breasts against his equally bare chest. “I was thinking that you were right.”

He has no idea what she’s talking about, but Cory isn’t stupid enough to start in with a full Q & A session with her right now, not when she’s half naked and on top of him. He’s not a total idiot.

“Four would probably be ok, too,” she says before touching her mouth against his.

Cory’s brain is still half asleep, and it takes him a moment to catch up. When he does, he smiles against her mouth as his hands slide up her slim waist to the middle of her back where he can pull her down more tightly against him. Four and maybe five are definitely great ideas, even at one in the morning. He would take her up on sex even if it were the Armageddon, they were in a field, and the four horsemen were stampeding across it toward him.

His mind might not be fully cognizant, but his body certainly is and doesn’t need a written invitation to come to attention. And he knows she can feel it pressing against her. She doesn’t seem to mind because she grinds her hips against his.

Within moments he has her beneath him and writhing and squirming with as much pent up frustration as he’s felt the last few months about her. Her nails dig into his shoulder blades, and she gasps against the base of his neck. His hands trail down to her waist, and he pulls her pants and panties away with one fell swoop. There is no need for pretense. This is why she woke him up, and he isn’t about to play games with her. He doesn’t give a damn what Paige has to say about it. After tonight, he isn’t going to take no for an answer from her anymore. He isn’t going to be her booty call whenever she feels in the mood or whenever they are far enough away from the farm that she feels satisfied with the distance to give herself to him. Even if she can’t see it, they were meant to be together and if he has to bully his way into her life, he will. He’d much rather do it the way he is now with violent kisses and tender caresses, but either way, she’s not going to push him away anymore. She was made for him, and he is going to stake his claim and soon.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Sam

Some of them travel out to the grave of the baby’s mother that John, Reagan’s father and Huntley have dug in the cold ground. Mia seemed like such a nice person that it hurts Sam to know that Daniel will never know his mother. Grandpa says some kind words and speaks from the Bible by flashlight over her grave. Sam weeps, her tears nearly freezing to her already cold cheeks. Simon wraps an arm around her shoulders in a comforting manner. Then they all head back to the house.

Reagan is in Grandpa’s bedroom with the baby. When Sam and Grandpa join her, along with Simon, she looks frazzled, completely undone, which is unusual for Reagan, who normally appears so stoic and in control of everything, albeit feisty.

“How is he doing, honey?” Grandpa asks without preamble. His gray hair is a rumpled mess from wearing his toboggan.

“He’s breathing pretty well, but he’s so small I just don’t know,” she says and goes over the baby’s chart. “We’re going to need formula or breast milk.”

“I know,” Grandpa states quietly. “He won’t make it without one or the other.”

“Why can’t he just drink goat’s milk or cow milk?” Sam asks.

Grandpa explains patiently as he examines the baby through the plexiglass cover of the bassinet, “It would be a last choice. He is so premature and underdeveloped that he may not be able to digest the complex proteins in animal milk. The cow milk is definitely not an option, but the goat milk could be a possibility.”

“First, we need to see if he can swallow and breathe at the same time,” Reagan explains as she notates something on his chart. “Then we’ll look into how we’re going to feed him.”

“Another issue with non-formula supplementation could be anemia, right?” Simon asks.

“Yes, son,” Grandpa says. “But he may not have an option. We’ll need a replacement formula within the next twelve hours if he is going to live. He’ll dehydrate too quickly. If someone can’t bring back some sort of baby formula, we’ll have to try the goat milk.”

“Yes, sir,” Simon says with a nod.

Hannah comes into the room a moment later with a bundle of laundry.

“Sue and I found a stack of winter sleepers,” she announces. “We’ve even got a newborn cap for his little head.”

Without waiting for assistance, Hannah walks straight toward the incubator. Sam joins her, marveling at the tiny human being who is so alone in the world now.

“Help me, Sam,” Hannah instructs and hands her the soft, cotton cap. “Slip it onto his head so he can hold his own body heat a little better.”

Although she is unsure of herself, she unhooks the two latches to the circular hand holes and slides her hands inside the incubator. She gently pulls the tiny hat down over his head. He has a tuft of dark hair but not much. He feels way too small. They have him bundled tightly, per Grandpa’s instructions so that he can’t pull out his IV by thrashing about. She remembers helping her mother with the twins after they were born, but even they didn’t seem this small. His skin feels like delicate silk under her fingertips. The skin over his eyelids seems almost translucent. She takes a moment to caress his soft cheek and downy forehead.

“Is it ok to touch him like this Grandpa?” she interrupts. He was talking with Reagan, which she hadn’t known until it was too late. She doesn’t want to be rude, but she also doesn’t want to harm this orphaned baby.

“You washed your hands when we came in,” he says. “You’re fine, dear.”

“It’s supposed to be good for newborns to be touched and handled,” Reagan states without looking up. “It creates a bond.”

“But I’m not his mother,” Sam says with a frown as she continues to stroke his tiny cheek. He doesn’t seem to mind. Or at least she doesn’t think he does because Daniel isn’t screaming at them. He seems rather calm for being a preemie newborn. She hopes that isn’t a bad sign of something else that could be wrong with him.

“We’re all his family,” Hannah corrects her.

“We’re all he has,” Grandpa says solemnly. “Talking to him and touching him is a good thing. Just keep doing what you’re doing, Samantha. He seems to like you.”

She smiles unsurely but nods just the same. Sam sits on the edge of Grandpa’s bed while keeping one hand in the bassinet on the baby’s head. Hannah sits beside her.

“He’s precious, isn’t he?” Hannah asks with a smile.

“I think it’s a law that all babies are adorable,” Sam suggests.

“It absolutely is, Sam,” she replies.

Hannah reaches in and rests her hand on the baby’s stomach. Then she holds Sam’s empty hand in hers.

“We’ll give this baby all the love he needs, Sam,” Hannah promises and leads them in a prayer.

When she is finished, Sam leans her head against Hannah’s shoulder. Grandpa invites them to a meeting in the dining room where they can discuss the baby’s situation.

Everyone that is still on the farm is present, even Reagan’s father, his wife, and G.

“We need to send some people on a run,” Grandpa says. “This baby needs formula or we need to find him a wet nurse.”

“That’s not going to happen anytime soon,” John says. “A few of the women in town are pregnant. A few from the camp down by the river are, too, but I don’t know anyone who could nurse him.”

“Me neither,” Reagan says. “There’s a woman in town, but she has twins. Their small family is barely making it. I don’t think she could nurse him even if she wanted to. We’re already supplementing them with extra food to keep her lactating. I checked her last week and was worried she might be getting anemic.”

“Daniel needs to stay here,” Grandpa says. “Kelly said that Derek is going to come back to the farm with Lucas in the morning. I’m traveling back to town when they get home with the vehicle. If Kelly is going to speak with Mr. Hernandez in his new village, then I need to be there. It will go more smoothly. We need to get this baby stabilized before I leave. I wouldn’t feel comfortable going to town in the morning until I know he has sustenance. He can’t be moved. Moving him into town would be impossible for us. We wouldn’t be able to ensure that the incubator would continue running twenty-four-seven, and that is imperative to keeping him alive right now.”

“We do a run,” John says. “Tonight. That’s all there is to it. Reagan and I found formula before. We’ll find it again. There has to be some out there somewhere.”

“Where do we start?” Robert asks, surprising everyone. “I’ll go. I’ll take… well, I was going to say Lucas, but he’s in town. I’m willing to go wherever you think we might find what we need.”

Sam knows that Grandpa called Derek on the radio and told him what happened. He’d been as devastated as the rest of them.

“That’s a good offer, Robert,” Grandpa starts, “but I don’t know if your health is up to it.”

“I’ll be just fine, Dad,” he says. “I can do it. I’ve been in worse shape than this and had to do a lot more than hunt for some baby formula. That little guy isn’t going to make it long without food.”

“I can go, too,” Sam volunteers.

“No,” Simon answers quickly.

“I want to, Simon,” she corrects him. “And you can’t go. Your arm is a mess. I can help scout or wait in the vehicle or keep watch. I want to.”

John answers before Sam can say anything more, “There’s a superstore of some kind in Clarksville. We could run up there tonight and scavenge.”

“The one we went to a few years ago?” Simon asks.

“No, that was the same Sam’s Club the boss and I went to,” he answers. “There’s a baby superstore, but there’s also another store that carried bulk goods. I don’t think we’ve ever gone there.”

“Would it even be ok if we found formula now?” Sue asks. “Wouldn’t it be expired?”

“It likely would, but as long as the seal isn’t broken, it should be ok,” Grandpa says. “We’ll just have to check it thoroughly if you find any.”

“Right,” Reagan agrees. “If it’s spoiled, we’ll be back to the goat milk solution.”

John taps his palm on the table a few times as if he’s been thinking about something. “I’m about to step on toes here, but, Robert, I think you should stay. You’d only slow us down. No offense, but you would. Reagan, you aren’t going. Your grandfather may need your help with the baby, and you are pregnant, boss. And, Simon, you have to stay because of your arm. With the guys in town, we can’t afford for all of us to leave. You need to stay for security purposes. Same as you, Robert. I can’t leave and let you come, too. There wouldn’t be enough people on the farm to keep the children safe. We have no idea if these men know the whereabouts of the farm, but they certainly know us. I’ll take Sam by myself and go. We’ll take the Hummer.”

Reagan interrupts at this and says, “Hey, it barely runs. You guys only had it started for the first time in three years the other day. It’s been a hay-dust collector in the back of the barn for all this time. Now you think it’s road-worthy?”

“It’ll be fine,” he says. “We can’t ride horses. We don’t have the time. We can’t take the Suburban. It’s trashed, at least it is for now. And Derek took the truck. We’re in a pinch. I don’t want to take the Johnson’s truck. They only have one that runs now, and the same for Chet and Wayne. Chet told me the other day that they were having trouble with their Jeep. This is it. This is the only viable solution, babe. We’ll be fine.”

John squeezes her palm on the table tightly and winks at her.

“What are you going to do if the Hummer stops running?” Reagan’s father asks.

“I’ll just have to call Derek,” he answers without concern.

“This sounds like the right call, John,” Grandpa says. “I could go with you.”

“No, sir,” John rebuts. “Reagan may need you or vice versa. You two are the only ones keeping that baby alive. Unless you think Simon can handle it.”

“No way!” Simon blurts quickly. “I’m not ready for anything like this. I may be able to deliver one, but the neonatal intensive care unit? No. Not happening. I’m here as an assistant only to the two chiefs.”

Simon frowns as if he finds the idea taking care of the orphaned baby all by himself very frightening.

Reagan chuckles and actually touches Simon’s forearm. “You’ll get the hang of it. Babies are just miniature adults. You’ve been doing a lot of studying. You’re about to get a lot of hands-on practice. And don’t forget, you can’t go. You’re the only sniper on duty if the place gets hit tonight.”

“I’m going to the shed,” John says and stands. Sam knows he means to get guns and ammunition for the trip. “Samantha, pack a couple sleeping bags and plenty of supplies to stay warm in case we’re out for a while. If you’re waiting in the car, you’ll get cold. If we can’t make it back right away, you don’t want to get too cold, or you could get sick.”

“Got it,” she replies.

He says before exiting, “We’re leaving in twenty.”

She immediately heads for the basement in the original part of the old farmhouse to hunt for their supplies. Sam knows that Grandpa and Reagan are having a continued meeting with her father to review the baby’s care. She grabs a backpack and stuffs it full of supplies, including food in jars, extra flashlights, and toiletries for one night. She’s not worried about a shampoo and a blow-out; she just wants to get back to the farm as quickly as possible to bring this baby the supplies he needs to live. Sam is worried sick for the little guy. He didn’t deserve this to happen. He needs a fighting chance, and she’s willing to do whatever she has to do to give it to him.

Satisfied that she has what she needs, Sam lastly grabs a sleeping bag for John, knowing that hers is upstairs in the linen closet on the second floor. She turns swiftly and runs right into Simon.

“Oh, sorry!” she exclaims as he grabs onto her shoulders to prevent her from stumbling backward. “Sorry, Simon.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I thought you heard me.”

Simon takes the sleeping bag from her.

“Thanks,” she says.

“No problem,” he says. “Sam, I think you should reconsider. I can go, and you could stay here.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Simon,” she says. “How would you run around helping John? You couldn’t drive with your arm like that. The best place for you is in Reagan and John’s room where you can keep watch from the third floor.”

“I just don’t like you going back out into danger,” he admits, lowering his eyes.

Sam reaches for his hand, but Simon puts his own in his left front pocket of his khaki cargos.

“I’ll… I’ll be all right,” she reassures him, trying not to show her disappointment. “John wouldn’t want you changing his orders anyway.”

“I know,” he says. “Except I can’t help but worry.”

“We’ll be back in just a few hours,” she says softly and steps toward Simon. “Don’t worry.”

He just chuffs and hangs his head. “Don’t worry. As if that’s going to be possible.”

“Simon?” she says to gain his attention and steps even closer. Then she places her hand under his chin and presses upward until he looks down at her. His eyes have taken on a haunted appearance as if he is remembering something terrible. She knows what it is. They have too many awful shared memories together for Sam to not know why he looks like this. She just wishes that he’d let them go. “I’m coming back.”

Simon nods slowly and says, “I won’t rest until you do, Sam.”

She smiles and says, “Good. I don’t want you to get too comfy while I’m gone. Then you won’t miss me. You’ll find someone else.”

His sharp gaze jumps to hers before he says, “Sam, that’s… no. We’ll talk when you come back, all right?”

“Fine, tell me goodbye, then,” she taunts and leans toward him.

Simon touches the side of her face and then allows his hand to run down the side of her head, his fingers threading through her hair as they travel. It sends a rather pleasant wave of pleasure through her. He leans forward. Sam closes her eyes. Simon presses his mouth to her forehead. Then her eyes pop open with confusion.

“Let me get your bag,” he says and grabs her pack and turns for the stairs.

She and John say their farewells a few minutes later in the kitchen. He and Simon packed their supplies into the back seat of the Hum-V. She hugs her adopted sisters, including G. She tells Huntley goodbye and then Grandpa. Then she stands there patiently as Robert, Grandpa, and John review their plans.

“Sam,” Simon whispers from the hall. He waves his hand toward himself and indicates they should speak elsewhere by nodding over his shoulder.

She follows him back the hall toward Grandpa’s study in the front of the house. It is dark and quiet, the children long since gone to bed. The fire from the fireplace in Grandpa’s office is just barely leaking an ambient, orange glow into the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” she asks nervously, hoping he isn’t about to drop a bomb of bad news on her.

Simon turns abruptly, looks over her head down the hall and takes her hand. He pulls her quickly into Grandpa’s office and shuts the door.

“What’s going on? Is everything ok?” she asks with budding apprehension.

Simon swivels on her, still holding Sam’s hand. He tugs her firmly enough to haul her up against him. She barely manages to elicit a squeak of surprise before his mouth comes down on hers. His kiss is full of intent and purpose. If he’d behaved withdrawn from her in the basement, he certainly isn’t anymore. His mouth moves greedily on hers as his hand tightens against her back, causing her breasts to press against his chest. She wishes that her coat was still hanging in the mudroom. Or that they were still in the loft of her home. Or just alone instead of surrounded by a house full of people and prying eyes.

Hannah’s voice filters into her thoughts, “Sam, are you in here? John’s ready.”

Simon breaks away from her and clears his voice before speaking, “Yes, we’re coming Hannie. Be there in a second.”

When Hannah leaves again, Simon stares hard at her, touches the side of her face, his thumb stroking gently, and says, “Come back quickly.”

“We will,” she promises.

He leads her to the other room, releases her hand as soon as they enter the kitchen, and Sam sends him a quick glance over her shoulder before following John out the door. She is on a high, one that she felt yesterday, too. Her emotions have been on a roller-coaster ride the last forty-eight hours. As usual, Simon is at the heart of most of it.

John drives them toward the road access on the other side of the farm.

“Buckle up, kid,” he reminds her with a wink. “This snow is making what’s left of the roads a monster.”

“Try not to wreck… again!” she teases and gets a hearty laugh from John.

“Yeah, you, too,” he gives it right back. “Between the two of us we aren’t going to have too many cars left on the farm that don’t look like they belong in a demo derby.”

“More like lost the demo derby,” she says with a chuckle. “In your defense, a bear ran out in front of you.”

“Well, let’s not forget that you were trying to get away from people in a high-speed chase.”

“Not that high speed. It was more of a slow speed chase if we’re being totally honest,” she admits. “And I hit a parked car and a traffic sign.”

“Just tell people they came out of nowhere at you,” he suggests with a crooked grin, his signature expression.

Sam just laughs and shakes her head.

“Too bad you didn’t have the Suburban last night,” John says in a more serious tone. “You could’ve rammed those jerks.”

She just grins and nods. “That would’ve been helpful, yes.”

“Glad you’re ok, kiddo,” he says and squeezes her hand briefly.

“And Simon, too?”

“Of course,” John says matter-of-factly. “Can’t do without the Professor. Best sniper I’ve seen in years.”

“He was so scared and…” Sam pauses because she is trying to remember the way Simon was last night and the strange behavior he’d elicited.

“And what?”

“Angry, I guess,” she explains. “He was very angry.”

John chuckles softly and says, “I would imagine he would be. He’s very protective of you.”

“I know,” Sam agrees with a frown.

John drives them for a few minutes in silence before asking, “What is it, Sam?”

“Nothing,” she answers and hangs her head.

“You know you can talk to me,” he says. “You can always talk to me, tell me anything.”

This much is true. John is like that with her, like her big brother. Most of the kids on the farm look up to him in that way. Derek is more reserved than his brother. Kelly is sometimes intimidating. But John is open and caring, gentle, exactly what Reagan needed in her life. He brings that same comfort to everyone on the farm.

“It’s just that…” she says but pauses. “He’s so worried all the time. He can’t let go of the past. He just dwells on what we’ve been through. I don’t know if he’ll ever let it go.”

John nods prophetically and says, “I know. I see what you mean. Simon is running from demons that he can’t escape.”

“Exactly,” Sam murmurs. “I just wish he would. I want things to be different between us.”

“I know that, too,” he confesses softly.

“You do?” she says on a surprised gasp.

He smiles as he makes a right-hand turn and looks directly at her a moment before returning his eyes to the snow-covered road before them.

“Yes, I know, kid,” he says again. “Does Simon know how you feel about him?”

She bites her lower lip before saying, “I think so. He’s not very perceptive, but I believe so.”

This causes John to chuckle lightly. “Yeah, the Professor isn’t very aware of a lot of things. Sometimes I wonder how he gets through the day. Definitely not sure how he focuses long enough to be our sniper on runs. Sometimes I think he’d forget his head if it weren't attached to his body. Nutty Professor might be a more apt name for him.”

“I always say he’s too innocent for this world.”

“Both of you are,” John tells her with a frown of pity.

She shakes her head slightly and looks out her window.

“Yeah, you are, Samantha,” John reinforces firmly. “Don’t ever think you aren’t.”

She tries not to tear up but fails badly. Sam sniffs hard to hide it from him. All of the emotion that she’s been hiding and holding back and trying to ignore for the past few years about Simon comes to a head.

“I love him so much, John,” she finally admits on a soft sob.

John stops the Hummer in the middle of the road and pulls her into his arms. He holds her a minute rubbing her back in a soothing manner. It feels so comforting and good to have someone like John hold and console her. It reminds her of the many times her own father did this when she was a little girl and fell off her horse or had her feelings hurt by someone at school. His arms are so powerful and strong, his shoulder so sturdy. If she adopted Herb as her grandfather, then she would definitely consider John for a fatherly role.

“I know, kid,” he tells her.

“Does everyone know?” she pulls back and asks with a huge amount of mortification.

“Not everyone,” he says and wipes her tears with his gloveless hand. “Probably Hannah.”

This makes her smile and snort laugh. “Yeah, definitely Hannie.”

“Don’t cry,” he says and takes her chin between his thumb and fingers. “Everything will work out.”

“Sometimes I think it will, but then there are times like last night when my home was attacked that I think things are never going to be good again.”

“You leave that to us,” John says, his blue eyes taking on a dark cloud. “We’ll handle that. Just focus on your art.”

She nods and John gets them moving again.

“Sometimes guys just need a nudge, Sam,” he says a short time later as she stares at the falling snow until her eyes start losing focus.

“A nudge?” she asks as John weaves around an abandoned church bus in the middle of the road.

“We aren’t all as sure of what we want or need,” he says.

“You were very sure of Reagan, though.”

He winces as if she has hit a nerve and says, “Yeah, I was, but she wasn’t, not at all. I knew… it’s hard to explain.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she jokes, which elicits a smile from her friend.

“I knew she needed me,” he answers. “It’s difficult for me to explain it to you, but I knew that Reagan needed me. I couldn’t leave her the way she was. Remember?”

Sam looks at him and nods. Reagan was so broken and screwed up. She still is, but there has a been a tremendous healing of her soul over the last four years, something Sam knows is a direct result of John.

He sighs and further explains, “I was in love with her, still am, don’t get me wrong. But with Reagan, I knew that I was the only one who could break through her walls and help her. I don’t know how else to explain it. I knew she needed me.”

“Now you need her, too,” Sam states.

“You have no idea, kid,” he says. “Just being away from her for a few hours is sometimes painful, especially when I feel like the farm is in danger.”

“She’ll be fine,” Sam reassures him. John nods in agreement, but she isn’t sure he believes this. She knows how he feels. She’s also apprehensive about the family. Sam is equally concerned about the family members who went to town and are staying there for the night.

“Thanks, Sam,” he says kindly as they pull into the city of Clarksville, which seems deserted and desolate. They drive to a few small pharmacies, and she waits while John quickly performs a search. They work for over an hour this way running in and out of buildings looking for supplies. “We could try a daycare if we can find one.”

“That’s a good idea, but I don’t know where any of them are,” she says.

“Yeah, me neither,” he says. “Let’s head to that superstore and check the area. I’m going to drive us right up to that store front. I don’t want to leave the Hummer too far away. I don’t want Derek to have to come and get us if someone steals the car. I think the store was called BJ’s, so keep an eye out for it. I’m pretty sure I know where it is, but just help me look for it. There’s nobody around. The weather is keeping people in.”

“Good, let’s hope they stay away,” Sam remarks. “Do you want me to wait in the car?”

“I don’t think so,” he says. “We’d better stick together at the big store. I don’t want anyone spotting the Hummer and trying to take it while you’re sitting in it.”

“That would be bad,” she agrees with a nod.

How he knows where he is going in this weather, Sam has no idea. She would’ve run over many things by now. Some of the snow from earlier melted away but has now been replaced with a fresh coating. John angles the vehicle through the crowded streets full of debris and abandoned vehicles with expert care and skill. She spots and points out the BJ’s superstore. He circles the block again to look for movement. Then he pulls up to the side of the large brick and cement block building that is covered in old moss, vinery, and new snow and puts it in park. Her nerves start to act up, and her hands shake just slightly.

“Ready?” he asks and passes her a compact rifle, one she prefers, which is Grandpa’s Mini-14 with the collapsible stock. “Lock and load. Safeties off.”

“Got it,” she replies, pulls back the slide and flicks the safety to the off position.

“Here, kid,” he says and hands her a pair of night-vision goggles.

They get out slowly and cautiously, and John locks the vehicle. It is not difficult to find their way into the building because a semi-truck is sticking out of the front of the store as if it crashed there years ago. Sam isn’t sure if the driver crashed on purpose to gain access or if he lost control. Perhaps someone was shooting at him. Driving anything while under gunfire is tricky. She can attest to such rigorous hardships.

John leads the way as they enter the building. He is swinging his weapon left and right to check areas and ascertain they are alone.

“Start looking for signs that point to the baby department,” he whispers, and she nods.

A panel of the roof is gone, likely from weathering over the years. The snow falls right through the ceiling and trickles down all around them like green fairy dust because of the night-vision lighting. They move silently through the store scouting for baby items.

John holds up his hand to halt them, points to the ground and says, “Animal tracks. Stay close.”

Sam nods and continues to follow him, this time, a little closer. A dog somewhere in the city howls. She hopes it’s just a dog. She’s heard Cory’s dog howl like that sometimes when she is communicating with other animals or maybe just the moon or perhaps mourning her long-lost loved ones. Damn Dog has her fair share of scars, both on the inside and out, as well.

“Over here!” she whispers and tugs his sleeve. They go to her left down a longer aisle where baby items once were. There doesn’t seem to be anything left. The shelves are all but empty. “Shoot!” she expresses her disappointment when section after section reveal themselves to be picked clean.

“Sam, up there,” John whispers and points. “There’s a pallet or two full of stuff up high.”

“Think it’s formula?”

“Not sure,” he says and looks around. “I’m gonna have to go up and check it out.”

“’Kay, I’ll watch your back.”

“No, I don’t want you down here by yourself,” he says. “Go ahead of me. Climb up to the first level and scoot yourself back in. That way if someone comes down this aisle, you’ll see him first.”

That option sounds so much better, so she nods and starts climbing. Standing on the ground floor while he climbs what seems like two stories didn’t feel very appealing after she suggested it. John keeps going past her, nods and gives a thumbs up, which she returns. She sits there in the dark looking around and watching for dangers. It doesn’t take long before she can hear him walking on the top shelving units. He comes back down a few minutes later and squats beside her.

“No dice,” he says with clear irritation. But then he adds, “But I think there’s a pallet of something across the aisle on the other top shelf. Why don’t you just stay here and I’ll check it out.”

“’Kay,” she whispers nervously.

“It’ll be fine,” he says and pats the top of her hat-covered head. “Be right back.”

Sam waits patiently, yet with a huge lump of apprehension in her throat while she watches John climb the other shelving unit that reaches nearly to the top of the building. He slips once, causing her heart to stop momentarily. Then he turns around and makes a funny face at her. Sam smiles and gives him the thumbs up sign again.

A few minutes later, John climbs back down until he is on the same level as her across the aisle.

“We’ve got it,” he says. “There’s at least ten boxes of formula up there. I don’t know how long that would last, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Awesome!” she says quietly.

“Found some diapers, too,” he says. “But I don’t think we can get all the boxes of canned formula and the diapers in the back of the Hum-V. We’ll just take the milk.”

“We just use cloth ones anyway,” she tells him, to which he nods. “Do you think the formula’s still ok?”

“We’ll see in just a minute,” he says. “Stay where you are. I’ve gotta run out to the Hummer to get some rope. I’m going to leave the boxes on the small pallet it’s on and lower it down with a rope. Just don’t get under it in case I lose it and it falls.”

“I’ll keep watch,” she offers helplessly.

John disappears with a silent jog and comes back less than two minutes later. He climbs back up without slipping this time and Sam eyes their surroundings. Somewhere in the building an owl hoot, hoot, hoot-hoots, startling her. She hates owls and refuses to draw them. They are a predatory bird, which just seems to be too much of a juxtaposition with their beauty. She much prefers to draw the chickens on the farm or ducks.

Soon she sees the pallet of boxed baby formula lowering to the ground. It doesn’t seem too heavy. John’s certainly strong enough to handle it. The pallet hits the ground with a soft thud. It sounds deafening in the empty building, though. He climbs down and winds the rope around his forearm until he has it coiled into a small circle again.

“I’m gonna check one before we haul it back to the farm,” he says as she scoots toward the edge of her perch. “No sense in taking rotted formula back with us. We’ll have to find some somewhere else if this has spoiled and gone bad.”

“’Kay,” Sam says as she turns around backward and searches with her foot for a bar to climb down.

A shuffling sound at the end of their aisle alerts her, causing Sam to whip her head that way. A clicking of claws on the concrete of the store floor tells her that the sound is not human. It takes her a second to locate it in the dark. Before she can even react, the animal is on John. He didn’t even see it coming and cries out in surprise before being taken down by it. The coyote is snarling and biting at John’s free arm. Sam screams and slips. She doesn’t fall but manages to pull herself back up onto the platform. John is on his back by the time she turns around again. The desperate, crazed animal is snapping, snarling and biting at John, who keeps warding it off with his forearm. It shakes his arm in its mouth. Her friend is struggling to free his sidearm since his rifle is under him, pinned to the concrete.

Sam rises to a one-kneed position and takes aim with her rifle. She hates to do this but is left with no choice. She fires and misses. John is struggling with the coyote for his life. Sam breathes and fires again, striking the animal in the side. It yelps and cries out and falls onto its side. John whips out his sidearm and finishes it off for them. She can’t believe she had to kill another animal. She still hasn’t forgiven herself for killing that man’s dog. It makes her sick, but she knows that coyotes are a bigger predator and threat than any owl. She’s certainly never drawn a coyote, either.

“Are you…”

More growling comes from the other end of the aisle.

“John!” she yells loudly, alerting him.

He runs to the shelf and climbs with lightning speed as the rest of the pack runs toward him. Sam reaches down and yanks his shoulder to help him the last few inches. There are five more coyotes down below them snapping and snarling and jumping toward them.

Sam is shaking like a leaf. Her hands tremble. She asks him, “Are you ok, John?”

He is breathing hard but nods and says, “Yeah, I’m cool, kid.”

Sam is pretty sure he’s lying. “We need to look at your arm. That nasty thing bit you.”

“I’ll deal with it when we get back to the farm,” he retorts as they both watch the animals below try to gain a foothold to climb. “They can’t get up here. Don’t worry.”

“What do we do?”

“Exactly what you just did,” he says and pulls his pistol up since his rifle is still laying on the ground. “Fire at will, kid. If we don’t clear them out, we’re stuck here.”

“’Kay,” she says tremulously.

“If you don’t want to, I can do it by myself.”

Sam shakes her head vehemently, “No, I want to help.”

She also doesn’t want John to have to kill all of them by himself.

“Try not to let any of them escape,” he says quietly as if the prospect bothers him. “We don’t want them coming back and attacking us while we’re trying to load the formula into the Hummer.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispers and raises her rifle.

She shoots another one, but John takes out three with his pistol, offering each one just a single shot each. The last one takes off at a run, but John manages to kill it, too. Sam feels like crap. This just feels so wrong, sniping helpless animals from a safe position. There is no sport in this. They don’t need to eat the animals, which makes her feel even worse. It was a simple situation of kill or be killed.

They climb down after waiting for other pack members to appear, which they thankfully don’t. John helps her and then hugs Sam once her feet are on the ground.

“Don’t look at them, Sam,” John instructs. “Just help me get these boxes out to the truck.”

“Don’t you want to check it first?”

“Let’s just get out of here,” he says, working quickly.

The formula isn’t too heavy, and it doesn’t take long to haul it to the truck because she can carry two boxes at a time while John carries three. They make two trips, pack it into the back of the Hummer and get in, locking the doors. Sam swings her pack to the floor between her feet and immediately pulls out her medical bag.

“Let me see your arm,” she orders.

“It’s fine. I’ll….”

“Now,” Sam says firmly.

He removes his coat but leaves on the layers beneath. “Just wrap some gauze around it so I don’t make a mess. It’s no big deal.”

He’s bleeding but not too badly. Sam is more concerned about rabies or infection. She stretches some gauze tightly around his arm, helps him back into his jacket and tries not to start crying when he winces.

“This is a big deal. You could get cellulitis or an infection from a bite like that, John.”

“Nah, it’s all good, kiddo.”

“Want me to drive?” she volunteers.

“I got it, kid,” he says with a smile. “Besides, I want to get there alive.”

“I’d punch your arm, but it already looks like it hurts pretty bad.”

“Nah, little puppy like that bites me? I’m made of steel,” he jokes.

“Ok, Superman,” she says.

“Why don’t you climb into the back while I get us going and check a can of that formula?”

“’Kay,” she agrees and climbs over the seat. Sam squeezes down beside one of the boxes in the trunk and cuts it open with her dagger. She pulls off one of the lids and then the silver seal. She flashes her light into the container of white powder.

“I don’t see anything gross,” she calls forward to John.

“Does it smell bad?”

Sam takes a whiff and then another but doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, “No, it kind of smells like a vanilla milkshake or something.”

“Cool, pass me up a can,” he teases. “Come on back up and get your seatbelt on.”

She closes the lid again and climbs back to the passenger seat. They continue their joking and teasing most of the treacherous ride home. She’s tired, wrung out, but glad to keep John company so that the dizzying daze of snow coming at the windshield doesn’t cause him to fall asleep at the wheel.

“Thanks, Sam,” he says out of the blue and squeezes her hand.

Sam doesn’t say anything but offers a grim smile. She would take on ten more coyotes if she had to in order to protect him. She would do anything for John, her adopted dad.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Simon

Having gained some restful sleep, Simon volunteers to drive Doc to town when Derek returns with the vehicle and Lucas. It is much later in the day than they’d hoped for and most of the day is gone again, but Derek had wanted to finish questioning some of the people who live just outside of town, as well. Simon had awakened this morning in time to watch Reagan and Doc feed the baby his first bit of sustenance from the formula that Sam and John found. Daniel wasn’t very open to the idea of taking a bottle, but he figured it out soon enough. They were worried about him being able to suckle and breathe at the same time, a problem he knows that some newborn preemies have, but he’d hung in there like a trooper after the first few coughs and spurts of choking. They’d all breathed a sigh of relief when he was able to consume almost a full ounce, which Doc said is acceptable for the first few days or so. It’ll take him a while before he can handle more. Unfortunately, he’ll be required to eat every few hours since he can’t drink more than a small amount at a time. Simon had been grateful to learn from Doc and Reagan about the care of a preemie in case he has to assist with one again sometime in the future when they aren’t available to help him. He hopes that day never comes.

They’d all insisted that Sam and John crash for the remainder of the day. John hadn’t protested much because he’d been awake for nearly two days straight. The wounds he’d sustained from the coyote attack had been minimal and had luckily not required stitches. The concern that Doc was most worried about was rabies or any other transferable disease or infection from the bites. Since rabies vaccines carry a short expiration date, they no longer have the capability of treating someone for it. Their first course of action would need to be human rabies immune globulin paired with the vaccine, a known and proven cocktail of preventative treatment. Neither are available. Doc is very troubled by John’s wound. Reagan had cleansed his bites very meticulously, though, and Doc is hopeful that he won’t contract something from the wild animal. Never in his wildest dreams had Simon ever thought that the world would fall so far that people not only had to worry about being killed by each other on a daily basis but also concern themselves with the ever-growing population of predatory wildlife. Paige told him about the creepy monkeys in the mall. He has seen many different breeds of wildlife like black bears, an elk, and a mountain lion, and now John has been attacked by a coyote, an animal which Simon thought only attacked small animals like chickens and goats.

They make a quick stop on the way to town to talk with the Johnson’s and tell them about Mia and her baby. Simon is surprised at how hard they take it since none of them really knew her for more than twenty-four hours. It just reminds him how caring and generous all of their neighbors can be.

“I want you to check on Talia later this evening on the way home if you can, Simon,” Doc tells him as he makes notes on a yellow legal pad. It’s probably baby Daniel’s chart.

“Yes, sir,” Simon answers. “I can do that.”

“We need to do a pelvic exam to ascertain the cervix isn’t dilating. She’s too early in term to be dilating. Do you know what to do if she is?”

“She’s already on bedrest, so I think a dosage of medicine to stop the labor would be advisable. Since we don’t have any, then more continued bedrest but with feet elevation.”

“Right,” he says, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “Likely, she is just having false labor. Many young mothers have this during their first pregnancy.”

“Like Braxton Hicks contractions?”

“Yes, but keep in mind a lot of it can be false labor because the muscles and tendons are simply stretching to accommodate the baby.”

They discuss her case a little longer as Simon maneuvers around debris in the road, a newly fallen tree, likely felled by the snow storm.

“We’ve had communication with Dave’s group in Hendersonville,” Doc tells him. “He suspects they have a woman pregnant with twins from that encampment that you and Cory helped free.”

“Twins?” Simon asks.

“She said they run in her family,” Doc tells him. “She didn’t come to our clinic for care afterward because she said she felt fine. I don’t think she’s all that far along, but she’ll need treatment if it is twins.”

“How dangerous could that be?”

“Highly,” Doc says. “Chances are at the end, only one baby will turn down and be ready to go. One will be breech.”

“Oh,” Simon says with sadness. Breeched baby delivery isn’t good for the mother or the baby.

“Do you remember what full-term is for a twin pregnancy?”

“Yes, sir,” Simon answers. “Thirty-six weeks is considered full-term for multiples. Forty weeks for a single.”

“With her, we’ll likely start a round of steroids as you suggested for Daniel.”

“Sorry about that. My mistake,” Simon apologizes.

“No, no,” Doc says. “That’s fine. You’re still learning. That’s why Reagan and I question you so hard. We want you to learn this. So, can you tell me what dosage of steroids and what kind we’d start on the multiple pregnancy?”

Simon goes over it with Doc, and they further discuss her pregnancy.

“How do they know it’s going to be twins?” he asks. “Did someone use a stethoscope and detect two, separate heartbeats.”

“I guess some young doctor is with their camp now. Sergeant Winters called over the other day when you were gone with Samantha.”

“Oh, that’s great news,” Simon says with genuine enthusiasm and hides his smile at Herb’s formality. He usually refers to Dave the Mechanic as Sergeant Winters, his official rank.

“Yes, I think Dave said he was a pediatrician or some such,” Doc explains as he notates more nearly indecipherable scribbles on his pad. “Came to their camp with a few others after they were ambushed and attacked in their own small encampment.”

“That’s terrible,” Simon says and shakes his head.

Doc looks at him and says, “Maybe it was the same men who attacked you and Samantha the other night.”

“Perhaps,” Simon agrees.

“How’s the arm?”

“Not bad,” Simon tells him. “Just sore.”

“Stay ahead of the pain with the pills I gave you. They aren’t great, but they’ll help keep the pain to a dull ache instead of the severity it could be.”

Simon just nods and offers a grim smile. He doesn’t want to outright lie, but he also doesn’t want to admit that he stored the pills back in the shed. Taking those pain pills means taking them from someone else who might need them more, like one of their family members. He can handle a little pain. What he can’t handle is knowing that someone else would be in pain if he selfishly took the pills instead of sucking it up for a little while, especially if that person was Sam.

He hasn’t had a lot of time to think about what happened with her in the gaming loft, or what almost happened. He wishes that Doc would start drilling him again on medical studies, but he has lapsed into the work zone and is not speaking because he is too busy referring to patient files, which they also no longer leave at the clinic but take home to the farm like the medical supplies. Not remembering that night seems to be the best thing he can do. He has absolutely no right to think about her in that way. She doesn’t belong to him, nor can she ever belong to Simon. It would be wrong on every conceivable level. She is not much more than a child and doesn’t need his lecherous, perverted behavior anywhere near her. His only job where Sam is concerned is to keep her safe. And the other night, he’d allowed his baser needs rise to the surface uncontrolled and unmanageable. Most of the time, he is able to suppress those feelings around Samantha. He doesn’t ever want to allow it to happen again. She deserves better than that. She’s been through so much in her young life and doesn’t need any more men pawing at her. Someday maybe she’ll find a good man, someone who can take care of her and protect her. Until then, Simon considers it his job to do so. But that job does not entail molesting her. Perhaps he should take Cory’s advice and sew his oats with some random woman in town. He’s not a fool. Simon has seen a few of the younger women who seem more than a little interested. He just never had more than a passing interest in any of them other than conversation. He also knows the reason why, but he can never act on those urges again. It is not a plausible solution to his problem to simply act out his baser needs on the person he is most attracted to. She deserves more than that, better than that, better than him. The only thing Simon has ever done where Samantha is concerned is fail her, over and over again.

“Is Samantha doing all right?” Doc asks as if reading his mind, startling Simon and causing him to squirm in his seat. He wonders if Herb is a little touched like Grams used to say about Hannah.

“Uh… yes, she seems to be.”

“She was very upset when she came home the other night,” he explains.

“That’s Sam,” Simon tries to evade. “She’s easily frightened.”

“That may be, but she was mostly upset over your injuries.”

“Oh,” Simon says with a sigh. “She’s a very tender person. She doesn’t like to see anyone hurt.”

“That’s true enough, but that young lady cares a lot about you, son,” Doc says with great astuteness, an inner wisdom that Simon wishes his mentor didn’t possess.

“Yes, I worry about her, too,” Simon admits.

“That’s good,” Doc tells him and flips open another file.

“Why is that good?”

He taps the tip of his pen on the notepad before saying, “Because you’ll always take care of each other. We won’t need to worry about you kids if you always look after one another.”

Simon mumbles, “Yes, sir.”

He doesn’t feel this way at all. He doesn’t care to argue with Doc because he respects him too much, but Simon is the worst person to be around her, especially lately. All he wants to do is keep her safe but every time he turns around he lets her down so badly. She was raped because of him. She was kidnapped because of him. The farm was attacked, and she could’ve been killed because of him. And again they were attacked the other night at her house, and that was definitely because of him and his stupid, uncontrollable lust for her that had distracted him to the point of missing a large group of bandits outside. She could’ve been killed or taken and raped again. Bile rises in his throat as he drives them carefully down the snow-covered road that will take them to their clinic. Thankfully, Doc doesn’t bring up Sam again, and Simon is comfortable riding in silence and stewing on his ineptitude.

Once they arrive in town, he and Doc head straight to the clinic where Kelly, Paige, and Cory are eating dinner together. It is still light out when they sit down to join their family for a fast meal inside the warm building. His sister looks exhausted. He’s going to insist she get some rest later at the farm. With the weather so miserable, there’s nothing to do outside anyway. At least the snow has finally stopped, and Simon hopes it warms up enough to melt it all away again.

They are planning on sticking around town after they finish talking with Jay Hernandez so that they can open the clinic and offer people medical care at least for a few hours. He’d volunteered to come along to help Doc so that Reagan and Sam could stay at the farm and take care of baby Daniel and most importantly get some sleep. Sam was dead on her feet when she’d arrived home this morning with John. She’s been through a lot the last few days and needs to rest. He knows she was up most of the night keeping an eye on him when he’d been too doped up to stay awake.

“How do you think it’s going to go with Jay?” Cory asks.

Kelly sighs and says, “He’s kind of a dick. So probably not very well, but if he’s smart, he’ll volunteer up any information he might have on these idiots. It won’t be long until he gets attacked by them, too.”

“True, and they don’t have as many people fortifying their new town,” Simon agrees as he eats a warm biscuit.

His sister is unusually quiet, so he leans over and whispers to her as the others continue to talk, “You ok, sis?”

“Huh?” she asks distractedly and then shakes her head. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine, Simon. Just tired.”

“Didn’t sleep well here?”

She shakes her head again and replies, “No, not really.”

“You’ll sleep better tonight back at the farm.”

“Yeah, probably,” Paige says.

Simon catches her eyes dart quickly, furtively toward Cory, who looks away. Simon chews the inside of his cheek as he considers them. When they get back to the farm later, Simon fully intends on discussing his sister with his best friend. He just doesn’t like the suspicious thoughts that keep swirling around in his head about them.

When dinner is finished, they put away their packs in the storage room and ready the clinic for the patients that will arrive later. Cory is planning on staying behind with Simon to keep watch on the building until Kelly and Doc return.

“I think I’m going to walk over to the new community with Kelly,” Paige tells him as they head outside while they wait for Doc.

“Why? They don’t need you,” Simon says. He’s not sure he wants her to go over there without him. He doesn’t fully trust Jay or his people.

“I want to stretch my legs,” she says. “We’ve been cooped up in here most of the night. Plus, it might go better if I’m with them. Sometimes having a woman sit in on a meeting will help to keep things a little calmer.”

Kelly has walked across the street and is waiting on the corner for them. The sun is still high, but the cloud cover is creating a dreary tint to the late day sky. Simon watches as Kelly lights a cigarette, probably the reason for leaving them to stand across the street. He’s in no danger of being ratted out to Hannah by any of them.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cory also argues with his sister.

“Well, then it’s a good thing you aren’t in charge of me,” she says with snarky wit and smiles at Cory. “What if I recognize one of those men hanging around somewhere in town on our walk over there? Nobody else is going to be able to recognize them. And, like I said, you aren’t in charge of me.”

Seemingly, his friend doesn’t find her humor funny because he is downright scowling at her. Paige ignores him, hugs Simon and walks across the street to join Kelly. He sends her a wave as she approaches.

“Comin’ with us, Paige?” Kelly calls to her.

“Better than hanging with those nerds,” she remarks and sends a haughty smile over her shoulder at him and Cory, who is still frowning.

Kelly tosses his head back and laughs. His sister turns back around, looks down the street before crossing, probably out of habit. He’d like to remind her that there isn’t any traffic approaching. Simon hears her laugh, likely at him and Cory.

Then Paige stops dead in her tracks, while still peering down the street and standing stalk still. He wonders what has caught her attention, but there’s no time to ask. His sister cries out and starts sprinting toward Kelly as if she is terrified.

She screams, “Kelly!”

Simon and Cory turn to see what she is looking at as Doc comes slowly meandering out of the clinic. Everything starts moving in slow motion. His sister throws herself in front of Kelly, wrapping her arms around him as if she’s going to tackle him. Then she cries out again. A second later the loud report of a rifle rings clear and true in the cold, afternoon air. His sister goes limp against Kelly, who is surprised and shocked as he tosses down his cigarette and catches her.

“Paige!” Simon yells and runs for her.

By the time they get to her, Kelly has laid her gently in the snow, which is spotted with her blood.

“What the fuck?” Cory yells simultaneously and draws his rifle to the front of him. He blasts a short burst down the street to keep whoever is shooting at them off their backs while they look at Paige.

“I didn’t see him,” Kelly keeps saying as Simon gently lifts his sister in his arms.

He swings toward the clinic.

“Get back, Herb!” Kelly yells at Doc who is starting across the street. He is clearly confused and not sure what is going on since he was just coming out of the clinic when it happened.

“Get inside!” Kelly orders Doc again as he provides cover as Simon carries her as quickly as he can. Cory is all out spraying the air with gunfire. He is a man in a rage. Nobody tries to stop him.

Simon rushes with her inside where Doc hits the lights. Kelly runs to the back and fires up the generator as Cory watches the front door. Simon lays her down on an exam table in the first room. When he slides his arms out from under her again, he sucks in a deep breath when he sees how much blood is on them. His hands are also coated in her blood. Paige cries softly, her gray eyes frightened and confused.

“It hurts. What happened? What hit me?”

“Easy now,” Doc says quietly, calmly.

Simon takes a second to look at him. Herb is not calm at all. His eyes are very troubled.

“Were you shot, too?” he asks Kelly when he returns to the room. He is also splattered with a spray of Paige’s blood on the front of his jacket.

“No, sir,” he quickly replies. “She took that bullet for me. She must’ve seen him.”

“I did,” she says weakly. Then she starts rambling as if she is in shock, which Simon is quite positive that she is. “I saw him. I saw the rifle, and I saw him pointing it at Kelly. He was hiding on someone’s front porch. At first I thought he was a sentry, then I realized he wasn’t. Is that what happened? I was shot? I didn’t want him to shoot you, Kelly.”

She is clutching Simon’s hand painfully. He can barely look at her. This is reminding him all too familiarly of that damn night they lost Emma. It had broken his heart. It had utterly broken Cory.

Herb is shoving her clothing out of the way while dragging a stainless steel cart over with his other hand. The pain on her lovely face is too much for Simon to bear. He looks at Kelly instead, who has been instantly humbled by his sister’s selfless actions. The biggest man in the room has tears in his eyes.

“You lie still, little Paige,” Kelly tells her firmly. “Let Doc work on you. He’ll fix you up.”

“Roll her onto her side, boys,” Doc says, to which they comply.

Simon winces as his sister yells out in pain. This time, she doesn’t hold back.

“Ow! Holy shit that hurts!” she cries. Then she murmurs a lot of other swears through her gritted teeth.

“Easy, honey,” Doc says gently. “Easy now. We’ll get you something for that. Simon.”

“On it,” he replies and passes her hand to Kelly. Then he sprints to the back for a syringe of morphine. He’s so glad they brought supplies from the farm today for a clinic day. They don’t always keep these items at the clinic anymore since they’ve been robbed.

“Get Reagan,” Simon hears Doc saying to Kelly as he rushes back to the room. “Get her quickly, Kelly. The bullet didn’t pass clean through. We may need to extract. Hurry, son. And get Cory in here before you leave.”

Simon places the syringe on the sterile, stainless steel tray near his sister. He reaches into a cart drawer and extracts a pair of sharp scissors and begins cutting her clothing away so they can better see what they are up against.

Kelly comes in with Cory a moment later.

“Get him out of here,” Doc says.

It takes Simon a moment to realize that they are talking about him.

“No!” he says loudly, too loudly for the small room.

“Simon, Cory will assist,” Doc says. “You’ll wait in the other room.”

“No way!”

“Come on, man,” Cory pleads. “Just come on out of here. I’ll help Doc.”

Kelly and Cory physically drag him from the room as he is yelling at them the whole way.

“Stay here!” Cory orders even louder than Simon once they are in the waiting room.

“I’m going,” Kelly says and runs from the room.

Cory nods and tells them, “The sheriff’s outside with some deputies. The town sentries are on their way. Just stay here, brother. I’ll help Doc. You don’t need to be in there.”

Cory’s brown eyes are darker than usual and intense. He nods firmly and takes off at a run for the exam room. Simon paces and paces. He can’t take the waiting. His sister occasionally cries out in pain. They are in there forever with no word of her status. He approaches the closed door, squats, runs a hand roughly through his hair and stands again. He paces the waiting room some more. It doesn’t take long before he hears car doors slamming. A second later, Kelly and Reagan are rushing in from the rear entrance. John is on their heels and Derek has returned, as well.

“We left Robert in charge at the farm,” he explains to Simon and lays a hand on his shoulder. “He assured us that it was safe to leave him and his son and Huntley to keep the place secure until we get home.”

Simon nods. The farm is the least of his worries right now. His sister is hurt, and all he wants to do is absorb her pain, take it away, give it to someone else, someone like her shooter. He has a sudden and irrational need to hurt something.

“I’m going out to talk to the guards,” Derek tells him. “Stay here, Simon. We’ll find out who did this.”

He has to do something. If they won’t let him in the room with her, and they don’t want him in on the meeting with the guards, he has to take matters into his own hands. Simon leaves through the back door, but not before he grabs his sniper rifle from the floor where he dropped it.

He pulls on his pack and stocking cap again, slings the rifle and heads toward the part of the street where Paige said the man was hiding. It’s easy to tell where he was lurking. The footprints in the snow are clear as day. The sun is bright, and the dark cloud cover that has protected the earth from its brilliant rays is receding. The sky is even turning a pale blue as he heads out of town and climbs through the hole cut in their new chain-link fence, obviously their shooter’s point of ingress. Simon fervently starts tracking the bastard who had the audacity to shoot his sister, setting out at a fast jog and scanning the snowy landscape around him with caution. He isn’t worried about being shot. This must’ve been the feeling that Cory had while he was gone from the family for so long. He no longer feels afraid or apprehensive walking into a potentially dangerous situation. He feels no fear. He is a predator. His training, years of practice and drills and live combat maneuvers are kicking into high gear. This is what it has all led up to. Dread, alarm, anxiety, they’re all gone from his system, foreign feelings that he has abandoned. This is all about tracking, hunting, and killing. He has become the monster he never wanted to be as a malignant darkness consumes his heart. There is no free will in this. His natural, inborn hunting instincts have taken over.

The bastard better hope she doesn’t die. He’s going to kill him. Simon knows this much with a deadly certainty. Even if she doesn’t die, Simon will kill him just for shooting her, just for raising a gun to her, even if he hadn’t meant to shoot her but Kelly. He’ll kill this man who shot his sister. But he’s not above torturing him for a long time first.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Cory

He is wearing scrubs like Reagan and Doc, and his hands are covered in thin, latex gloves. Cory is not usually present during these sorts of medical situations, but he knows why they didn’t want Simon present. Her brother was a wreck, too emotional, too involved. If they only knew how personally involved he was with Paige now, they might not want him in the room, either. He isn’t about to confess to it because they would throw him out.

Plus, they need his help. Initially, Cory had held her down, although all he’d wanted to do was gather her into his arms and absorb her pain. They knocked her out with drugs, ran an ultrasound machine over her abdomen and determined quickly that she needed surgery. They covered her carefully, sterilized the surgical suite, and moved her there. Then Doc made a small incision on the side of her flat stomach. Reagan and Doc are digging around in the right lower quadrant of her abdomen hunting for that damn bullet. She is out, anesthetized, and Cory is holding a breathing bag over her face pumping it at the pace they told him to. He’s glad she’s completely asleep for this. The pain she’d been in had cut right through him every time she cried out.

He can’t help himself. He’s also holding her hand, her thin, weak, frail hand. This same hand had clawed at his back last night and held him tightly to her. Cory can still see traces of her blood on his hands under the sterile latex of his gloves. It turns his stomach.

“I’ve got it,” Doc says. “Found it, Reagan.”

“Phew,” she says on a hard exhale. “Thank God.”

“The bullet?” Cory asks impatiently.

“Yes, son,” Doc answers as he releases a clamp and a silver bullet clanks onto the medical tray. Pointing with a surgical tool, he instructs, “Reagan, here.”

“I see it,” she replies and goes to work on something.

Cory doesn’t peer too closely. He doesn’t want to see her insides and the bloody mess of her wound. He just wants her whole again.

Doc is also doing his own stitching, and Cory watches as he pulls the string long and far and submerges again into the wound. She must have internal bleeding. Cory pushes that thought down and tries not to dwell on it.

“One more,” he says calmly.

Cory doesn’t know how either of them is doing this. Paige isn’t just some person from town that they hardly know or some lost-and-found stray dog. She’s one of them.

“Transfusion?” Reagan asks.

“We’ll see,” her grandfather answers. “Let me get a count and check her blood pressure. I don’t know what type she is.”

“Cory, do you know?” Reagan asks.

“I think she might be B positive,” he says. “I thought Simon told me once what her blood type was and his, too. He’s AB. I know for sure.”

“What are you?” Reagan asks as she continues to work on Paige. Then she swears about something, “Damn it!”

“I’m O positive,” he tells them, worried about whatever has upset Little Doc. “Doc tested everyone at the farm when we first got there, remember?”

“Well, if she needs blood, Cory can donate,” Doc states.

“Gladly, sir,” Cory says quietly and gives Paige’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Is she… is she gonna be ok?”

“We don’t know yet, Cory,” Reagan answers honestly.

“What damage was there?” he asks because he has to know the truth and he knows Reagan will give it to him.

“It missed her kidney but seems to have passed through the very bottom tip of her liver,” Reagan answers, wipes her brow and continues to sew.

Paige doesn’t even stir. If he didn’t know any better, Cory would think she was already dead. Last night they’d spent hours and hours in mutual bliss on that sofa and then on the cot in Doc’s office. This morning, he’d awakened to find her asleep on his chest and had lain there contemplating their future together, whether she wanted one or not. He’d stroked her hair, down her back, against the soft curve of her breast and the downy lobe of her ear as she slept peacefully without a care in the world because he’d exhausted her with a night full of lovemaking. It was not loving, though. It was carnal and heated, and he was all right with that. Maybe that’s just the way it’ll always be between them. And now he’s worried so badly about her that he has a migraine and a nauseous stomach because she may not make it. He doesn’t want his best friend to go through what he went through when he and Kelly lost Emma, either. Cory doesn’t wish that on anyone, not anyone in their family for sure.

“What will that do?” he asks hesitantly.

“It has already caused extensive internal bleeding, which is why she was in so much pain,” Reagan answers as Doc works the ultrasound wand on Paige’s stomach again, causing the lights to dim in the room. “We’ve got it stopped. Sewed the small tear in the liver. She’s going to be in pretty rough shape for a while. If she doesn’t lapse into a coma, then she’ll have a long road to recovery, months probably. An injury to the liver, blood loss, internal bleeding, the severed arteries we found and the wound itself….”

“Prayer will help, son,” Doc says gravely, interrupting Reagan’s long, macabre list.

Cory swallows the hard lump in his already constricted throat and nods. He knows if Herb is telling him to pray, then the situation is grave. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever heard Herb tell anyone this. “Yes, sir.”

They continue to work on her, patiently cleaning the wound and inspecting before closing it.

“We’ll need to watch her twenty-four seven for a while to keep an out for signs of any more internal bleeding,” Reagan explains.

“I’ll help,” Cory says.

“Or infection,” Doc puts in.

“I’ll help. I want to,” he repeats.

“Good,” Reagan replies. “We’ll need a lot of eyes on her for a while. When she wakes up, we don’t want her moving. At all! She could re-injure that liver or rip something and cause bleeding. We’ll also watch for signs of infection like Grandpa said. That’s gonna be a big concern, too. It’s going to take us watching her in shifts. This isn’t like some of our other patients where we send them across the street to the house. She can’t be moved, not to the house, not back to the farm. She has to stay right here.”

“Oh,” Cory says with worry.

“At least not for the first few days,” Doc explains as he takes her pulse and blood pressure. He and Reagan work together like a well-orchestrated machine. “We’ll see how she does the first twenty-four hours and then the first forty-eight. After that, then she may be able to be moved back to the farm.”

“But we’ll need to keep her sedated for most of the day,” Reagan tells him. “If not, she’d be in too much pain and…”

The door bursts open and John appears, “Hey, you guys see Simon?”

“What? No,” Cory answers. “We told him to wait in the lobby.”

“Yeah?” John asks rhetorically. He looks tired. “He’s gone. We found a set of footprints and then another set, too.”

“He’s tracking the shooter,” Cory says.

“That’s what I figured,” John says.

“We’re done here,” Doc says. “You can let Cory leave to find him. We’ve got this under control.”

“I can go,” John says.

“No,” Cory volunteers. “I’ll go. It should be me. It was partially my fault this happened. I’ll find him. We’ll track that bastard together and kill him.”

Reagan interjects, “That’s a better idea anyway, John. You should rest and watch that arm.”

Cory knows she means from the coyote attack that happened last night when John took Sam to get formula. They were kept abreast of the situation from the death of the pregnant woman to the birth of the new baby, and then John and Sam’s trip to find supplementation for the baby by radio communication.

“Fine,” John says. “I’ll stay. Kelly asked Mr. Hernandez to come over to the edge of their town for a meeting with you anyway. We all really shouldn’t be gone and leave the place unguarded, not with her lying there unable to get up.”

Cory risks a glance at Paige, his pale lover, who is so weak and injured that she might die. He can feel a rage beginning to boil inside of him. He hasn’t had time to process that feeling of anger and the need for vengeance yet. He was too worried about her. Now that he knows she’s somewhat stabilized, Cory is ready for some bloodletting. Someone needs to die for this.

He grabs his gun from the floor at his feet where he’d placed it in case he needed to protect them during her operation. Then he goes to the other exam room, strips out of his scrubs, disposes of the bloody gloves, and washes his hands in cold water. When he emerges and heads out to the lobby, John is there waiting for him.

“I think he headed west out of town. I’m not sure where this creep went. Use caution, brother. He could be hiding in the woods around town.”

Kelly comes into the room and stands there waiting.

Derek says, “I’m comin’ with ya,’ Cory.”

He shakes his head and says, “You don’t have to, Derek. I got this.”

“I know,” his friend says. “But if he leads you back to his group, or what’s left of them, I want to be there in case you need backup.”

“All right,” Cory says.

“We’ll split up,” he explains and goes over the plan. “You’ll head west and look for Simon first. I’d feel better if we knew where he was. I don’t even know if he took a goddamn radio when he split. We tried calling on one, but he isn’t responding. Keep an eye out for the Professor. Let’s make sure he gets outta’ the way if a cross-fire situation pops up. I’m headed east to flank. He’s only been gone about forty-five minutes or so.”

“Gonna have to double time it,” Kelly says.

“You gonna make it, old man?” John razzes his brother.

“Asshole” Derek whispers as they go outside.

They jog to the edge of their village, and Derek shows him where a section of chain-link fencing has been cut.

“We think this is where they were coming and going,” Derek explains.

“How the hell did the sentries miss this?” Cory asks and climbs through after Derek.

“He might’ve had it hidden with foliage that is now pushed down from the snow.”

“Maybe,” Cory says as they jog side by side.

“Here’s where we split up,” Derek tells him twenty minutes later. Tracking their thief and Simon is a piece of cake in the snow. Derek comes to a stop and pulls Cory to a stop by grabbing the sleeve of his jacket. “Hey, if you find the Professor, you let him take care of this prick.”

Cory shoots him a pensive look.

Derek shrugs and says, “If… if she dies, at least Simon will have his revenge for it. Don’t take that from him.”

Cory tries not to flinch. He can’t even fathom the idea of her dying. It makes him feel like puking, but he nods to Derek, and they bump fists before his friend takes off in the opposite direction.

He picks up the pace now that he’s alone. Cory jogs northwest for about another half hour until he comes to a clearing in the woods that opens up to the freeway. There are literally hundreds of abandoned vehicles between Pleasant View and Nashville. So many people tried to bug out of large cities when the shit hit. Not everyone had his brother, ex-military operator coming to their rescue. He wishes every day that he knew then what he does now about survival and killing. His parents might still be alive if he did. He would’ve known to stay up on watch duty, to remain alert, and to kill intruders. It is one of his biggest regrets and something he has to live with. Losing his little sister gets locked away in the same vault of repentances as the loss of his parents. He sure as hell doesn’t want to have to put Paige there, as well, and Cory really doesn’t want Simon to have to deal with losing her. The guilt his friend carries on his shoulders over the sufferings that Sam endured while with Simon’s other group is enough to bury him up to his chin with remorse. Losing Paige could send someone like Simon over the edge. Cory knows this all too well. It hasn’t been easy coming back from that precipice of murky shadows and nothingness.

Cory follows the footsteps down an aisle of abandoned or wrecked cars and trucks on the highway. He crests a small hill and comes to a stop when he spots something. Inching forward with his rifle raised, he sees a man in the back of an empty, snow-covered pick-up truck that looks like the rest of the vehicles coated in white, powdery snow. It’s a bottleneck traffic jam of non-moving, looted vehicles.

The sun is in front of him, lowering down over the horizon of the freeway. Cory pulls his binoculars from his pocket and hides behind a box truck to get a closer look. He steals a glance through the binoculars and sees the man standing in the bed of the truck with his rifle resting on the roof of it. There is no doubt by the shock of red sticking out below the black stocking cap that this is his friend. He is standing there so calmly, so relaxed that one might mistake him for someone doing some casual duck hunting, not human hunting.

Cory stashes the binoculars and cups his hands in front of his mouth. He makes the sound of a bird chirping, which instantly causes Simon to whip his head around. He just raises his chin to Cory in accord and turns right back around to stare down his prey. He jogs to his friend and joins him in the back of the truck bed.

“Is Paige…?”

Simon can’t finish his question.

“She’s in rough shape, but she’s alive, bro,” he tells his best friend, who nods. “What’ve you got, Professor?”

Simon indicates with one solitary finger, “Hundred yards out. He’s moving in between the vehicles. He knows I’m here. Fires off a round every once in a while toward me.”

“Think that’s him?”

His friend does not look up from his scope to answer but instead adjusts his cheek, pressing it firmly against the walnut stock of his high-power rifle. “That’s him. He’s carrying a 30-06. That’s what the fucker shot my sister with. Seems only fair I’m about to put him down with the same caliber.”

“Maybe we should wait,” Cory suggests. “We should track him to his new lair, kill the others with him.”

“I’m going to,” Simon says. “Plug your ears.”

Without further pause, Simon fires his weapon and a second later a man screams. He’s only wounded him. Cory spots through his binoculars for his friend.

“Left leg, back of his thigh,” he tells Simon.

His friend slings his rifle over his shoulder and moves quickly to the tailgate where he hops to the ground. “I know.”

Cory obediently follows after him, swinging left and right to ascertain their position and secure the area. He has never seen Simon like this, so calm and cool, calculated. His friend has become a lethal predator. It reminds him, but not in a good way, of his own behavior when Emma was killed. Cory takes a second to call Derek, who tells him that he is just ahead of them and saw the man fall. They agree to meet there. By the time the three of them join up, a long trail of bright red has marred the white of the snowy road. Then they hear him, as well. The man is lying in a ditch on his stomach moaning in pain. Simon has done this to him on purpose. Cory isn’t about to judge or stop him now.

“Careful,” Derek warns as they approach.

Cory jams his booted foot against the man’s shoulder and shoves hard, rolling him onto his back, earning them another loud groan. He’ll bleed out soon from the wound. Simon has hit the femoral artery, which is draining like a leaky water faucet all over the ground. He’s quite sure that his friend knew exactly where he hit him. Simon doesn’t miss. Derek disarms the man quickly, kicking his rifle away and removing the .22 revolver from his waistband.

“Who are you?” Simon demands hostilely.

“Fuck you,” he rasps and ineffectually attempts to stop the bleeding from his skinny leg.

This wasn’t what Cory expected from the leader of the group trying to eliminate them. This man is scrawny and lean, wearing wire-rimmed eyeglasses and khaki colored skinny jeans. Cory figured the man for someone middle-aged, stronger looking and more imposing. Mike looks like he can’t be more than twenty-five. He actually looks more like someone’s accountant than a cold-blooded, ruthless killer bent on revenge. From what he knows because of the family’s account, Cory knew what the Target group was like and how they were operating. Mike doesn’t seem like he would’ve even fit in with them, but then again, it was his brother that they killed. Cory almost doesn’t blame him for wanting revenge. He sure as hell would if Kelly was ever killed.

Derek squats and says, “You’re dying. We can’t help you now. It’s too late. But you can tell us who you are and why you shot her.”

“I wasn’t aimin’ at her, asshole,” he says, acknowledging the fact that he shot Paige.

“You meant to shoot Kelly?”

“The big one,” the man says, to which Derek nods.

“Why?” Simon shouts.

The man’s head lolls to the side, but Derek grabs his chin and forces him to face them.

“Why?” Simon repeats.

“Are you Mike?” Derek asks, getting a nod.

“Did we kill your family at the Target store?” Cory asks.

“My brother, you asshole,” Mike answers. “You killed my brother and friends. If I’d been there, all you fuckers woulda’ died. Then I woulda’ got your women, too.”

Cory has to physically hold Simon back from lunging at the dying man. He can still hear Derek questioning him.

“Did you attack our farm?”

He looks away. It is obvious this man was one of the people who attacked the farm with every intention of killing them and burning down their farmhouse. Apparently, that plan hadn’t worked out as well as he’d wanted because they never returned for another try at it.

“How many are with your group?”

No response.

“Who are your contacts in our town?”

Again no response.

“Help us, Mike. You don’t want to see any more innocent people killed,” Derek pleads. Cory leaves Simon to his own defenses a few yards away and walks back to help question Mike before he can no longer answer.

“Our group isn’t bad,” Derek says.

Cory adds, “We just try to help people. Tell us where your people are, and we’ll try to cut a deal with them.”

“Nobody else has to die,” Derek throws in.

“Fuck you,” Mike blurts. “I hope that fucking bitch dies. I hope she dies, and my men kill all you McClane assholes.”

Cory glares at the dying man, knowing he means Paige. Before either of them can stop him, Simon squeezes angrily past Cory and shoots Mike in the heart with his sidearm.

Derek walks away and swears, “Damn it!”

Cory isn’t sure if he’s mad at Simon for killing Mike, or if he is just frustrated with the situation. Either way, they have to head back to town to let the rest of the family know what has happened. Now they don’t know how many people are with this asshole’s group or who in town he’s been working with to gain intel on them. They also can’t be one hundred percent sure if he was their thief.

After a few minutes of just standing there staring at the dead body, Simon says, “Sorry, Derek. I just… I lost it. I’m sorry, sir.”

Derek comes over to them and nods to Simon, “It’s cool, bro. That was happening sooner or later. You just made it sooner. We’ll get to the bottom of all of this shit. Let’s roll out.”

Derek calls K-Dog and Paul from the condo community to do a recon of the area. Mike was headed somewhere this way, which has to lead back to his base camp. He wasn’t just randomly running down the middle of the freeway for no reason and no destination in mind. His group is out here somewhere.

“You guys head back,” Cory tells them. “I’m going to catch a ride with K-Dog and help them.”

Derek asks, “You sure?”

“Yeah, man,” Cory says.

“I’ll go with you, Cory,” Simon suggests.

He vehemently shakes his head, “No, Simon. Go back to town. Go to your sister. She needs you more than I do. Just help out the other docs, all right?”

His friend’s head droops slightly, but he nods.

“They said she needs to be watched closely for the next few days,” Cory says. “When I get back, I’ll take a shift.”

“Deal,” Simon says and shakes his hand firmly. “Th…thanks, Cor. I mean thanks for staying with her and helping.”

He inhales shakily and nods. This isn’t an easy thing to do. This praise from his friend makes him feel guilty because Simon doesn’t understand the nature of Cory’s relationship with his sister.

They leave him a moment later, and Cory waits for K-Dog’s big pick-up truck to show up, which does within minutes. He and Paul are packing a lot of weapons and have brought three more men from their condo village and two men from town. Cory hitches a ride in the bed of the truck with them. In some places along the highway, they are forced off the road or down into the median to maneuver around cars. K-Dog drives for the third time off the blacktop and down a steep incline that leads to woods when Cory spots a set of what looks like small, fresh tire tracks in the snow on an off ramp. He taps on the roof of the truck, tells the ex-Navy seal to follow the tracks, and takes up a watchful position near the rear of the bed. They drive for another mile or so, following the tire treads, until they come to a turn-off. They are close to Coopertown, west of the mostly abandoned, small town. This leads him to speculate whether or not these men knew the creep in the woods that had the woman tied to the wall in his shitty cabin. He’s pretty sure they aren’t far from that region. The woman’s name is Vicky, and she lives in town now with an older man and his two grandchildren in Pleasant View. The Rangers rescued her, and she’d even lived with the Reynolds family for a while afterward. Cory doesn’t know her all that well because it all happened when he was gone, but her new partner is one of the sheriff’s deputies. He lost his daughter and her husband while they were foraging for supplies up in Lexington when the shit first fell, which is how he became sole custodian of his grandchildren. He walks with a limp, an injury he sustained while in the Marines years ago, and Cory likes and trusts him well enough.

He just wonders if these dirtbags all knew each other and had multiple locations from where they operated. He calls a halt to their progress and jumps over the side of the truck’s bed when he spies another set of tracks that leads down a driveway. K-Dog and Paul order the men to split up and use their headsets if needed. Cory already has his ear piece in and is ready to move out.

“Think this could be where he was headed?” K-Dog asks, his deep voice resonating in the silence as the sun leaks its last orange rays across the countryside.

“That asshole was going somewhere after he shot Simon’s sister,” Paul says.

“Not like he’d give a shit if he led someone back to his group,” Cory remarks with disdain for the dead man.

They jog through the woods, and Cory sorely wishes that the leaves and undergrowth were still abundant since they are unfamiliar with their destination and could use the extra camouflage. It doesn’t take long to find their goal. There is an ultra-contemporary mansion set against a backdrop of post-apocalyptic debris, run-down fencing, and four-wheelers parked in what used to be the front yard. The long, tall windows meant for star gazing, neighbor spying and curb appeal are covered in years of grime, making them appear hazy and opaque. The dark gray exterior paint has chipped and faded in many areas and has been replaced with an abundant supply of poison ivy. A fire is lit somewhere behind the house because gray clouds of smoke stream heavenward and the smell of burning wood filters its way to his nostrils. Raucous laughter assaults his ears. He wonders if they knew where Mike was going or if he simply acted alone in his bloodlust for revenge against the McClane family.

He takes up a position leaning against the back side of a tall pine tree and weighs his options while K-Dog and Paul discuss the situation aloud. Cory kind of wishes that he’d come alone. He watches as two men exit the front of the home and climb aboard the two four-wheelers closest to the garage door.

“Three men in the back yard,” one of Paul’s men reports.

“Hold your position,” Paul responds.

K-Dog’s eyes meet Cory’s, and he says, “We don’t know if this is them. We can’t just shoot them without knowing.”

“Right,” Cory agrees. “I know. We need to find out if they were with Mike.”

Two more men come out of the house, this time from a side entrance. Cory figures that there is also probably a rear exit.

“Could just be some dudes sticking together for survival,” Paul suggests.

Cory shakes his head. He knows for certain these are the same men. “They had four-wheelers. The pregnant woman said they traveled a lot on four-wheelers.”

“True,” K-Dog says with a nod. Then he jumps behind a tree and squats low. It is a difficult task for the big man. “Get back! They’re comin’ this way.”

Cory simply steps one pace to his left. He isn’t as worried about being seen. He really doesn’t care if they do see him. At least he’d know if they were friendly or antagonistic.

The men on the recreational vehicles split up, one going north over a hill and the other cutting nearly right in front of them to go east over a crest behind them. Cory touches K-Dog’s shoulder, which causes him to look up.

“I’ll be back,” he says and takes off at a sprint.

He runs as fast as he can hoping to flank the man on the four-wheeler. He jogs through the base of a ravine and up a steep hill. Knowing he can go faster than the man, he speeds up even more and is able to jump over fallen trees and around dead bushes. The man will have to stay on cleared paths with his chosen mode of transportation. Cory can hear the small engine of the machine and knows he has successfully outrun the four-wheeler. He hides behind a wide oak and waits while his breathing slows again. When the four-wheeler comes into sight, he steps out and close-lines the dude on the back of it with the butt of his rifle. The guy falls hard, and his machine crashes into a dense row of thickets and thorny bushes in the forest. The man doesn’t rise but lies there on his back moaning and holding his hand over his chest. He is having a hard time catching his breath. This man resembles the type that was described to Cory about the Target group. He is wearing tattered clothing, has longer, unkempt hair, not unlike Cory’s, and has a scroll-work tattoo covering the right half of his face.

“What… why…?” he babbles with confusion.

Cory levels his rifle right at the man and says into his throat mic, “One down. Will question and report back.”

K-Dog responds to the affirmative and says that they will hold their positions until they hear from him. Then Cory kicks the guy lightly in the hip and points his weapon at his chest.

“What are you doing out here?” he questions.

The man tries to sit up, but Cory shoves at him with the barrel of his rifle and says, “Stay down. Don’t try to get up again or I’ll blow your damn head off. Now answer the questions nicely, and we’ll get along just fine.”

“Fuck,” the man hisses, his senses returning. He doesn’t seem too happy about the situation in which he has now found himself.

“You with Mike? Is that your leader?”

He doesn’t get an answer, so Cory kicks him in the leg, this time with more insistence. “Start answering. We’ve got your compound surrounded. You’re the only one alive at this point. Fess up, dude. We know about Mike. We know him… intimately.”

It seems an apt comparison since he just watched the man take his last breath.

“Mike? You know him?” the man with the dirty blonde hair and dark eyes asks confusedly.

“You could say that. Is he your leader?”

He rubs his forehead as if he has a headache before answering, “Yeah, he’s the boss. We just do what he says.”

“Why?”

“’Cuz he’s gonna give us all positions in our new town when this is over.”

“Pleasant View?”

The man’s eyes take on a more guarded stare as he begins to understand that Cory isn’t his friend and that Mike isn’t well liked by him. However, he does finally nod.

“Who’s your contact in town?”

“Wait a minute,” the man says, realization coming over him as if a doctor has just diagnosed him with something terminal. “Wait. I ain’t tellin’ you everything, man. How do you know Mike?”

“He shot at my brother today,” Cory admits, tilts his head to the side, and watches the man’s surprised expression turn angry.

“You’re a fucking McClane?”

“Sort of,” Cory concedes with a raise of his eyebrows. “You could say we’re close.”

The tick-tock of the second hand has started up in Cory’s head like it always does before that need must be filled. He couldn’t kill the man who’d shot Paige, but he will wage vengeance upon the rest of his group. The swell is becoming louder and louder as he feels himself starting to lose control. He knows he’ll kill this man, and violently; he just doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop himself before getting the information he needs.

“He said he was going to take out a few of those McClanes. They killed his brother.”

“He missed my brother, which was lucky for him,” Cory tells him. “But he hit a woman, my woman. Not smart. Now Mike’s dead. You will be, too, if you don’t start talking.”

“Shit,” the man whispers with genuine fear.

“The townspeople aren't all bad, you see,” Cory explains patiently. “As a matter of fact, you could say they’re good people. They sure as hell don’t need some piece of shit like Mike and his lot sniffing around asking for trouble.”

“Hey, it was his idea, not mine, man.”

The begging will likely start next. He knows his life is about to end.

“What was the next phase of this plan?”
“I don’t know, man,” he says in a more whining tone this time.

“Well, I guess if you don’t know, then I don’t have any more use for you, bub,” Cory taunts and raises his rifle.

“Wait, wait, wait!” he cries. “He said we was gonna’ burn the place.”

“Burn what place?” he asks with a furrowing of his brow. This is concerning, to say the least.

“I don’t know what place,” his captive says. “I think he meant the whole damn town. I don’t know.”

“And kill the McClanes?”

“Just the men. Not your women.”

Cory sighs, “Not a smart plan.”

“Oh, shit. Oh, shit, man,” he whines.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Cory reveals, watching the man’s face contort with a new terror because he knows no one, not even Mike the leader is going to come to his aid. “Who’s the mole? Who do you have on the inside? Give me their names.”

“I don’t know,” he says. “Please, you gotta believe me. I don’t know. He didn’t usually take any of us with him when they met. We was going to burn the town like ya’ll did to their Target camp. I seen it in his notebook he always carried with him. He had plans.”

“Was there more than one that he was working with in town?”

He nods vigorously, “Yeah, a few. Maybe there was like five or ten. I ain’t sure.”

This makes Cory’s stomach turn. If Mike had ten people on the inside, in their town, they could have a big problem on their hands. Everything that Paige has told him about the men who attacked the farm is starting to buzz through his thoughts. From the lawlessness of the group, the defiance and boldness, and now this man’s attitude about taking over their town is all running circles in his mind. Then it clicks. He finally knows who the mole is. He knows that it isn’t one man, but quite a few. She was right. They are lawless, but not for long.

“When were they planning this attack, this burning of the town?” he drills with a new purpose.

“We were waiting for him to get back. He said he was going to do something that would distract the people. It was like a sign for the ones in town to start burning. Then he was comin’ back for us.”

“So when was the burning of Pleasant View supposed to happen?” Cory asks with growing apprehension. His stomach plummets at the man’s next word.

“Tonight.”

With no time to waste, Cory finishes off the man and calls K-Dog. Within minutes, he is flying down the road back to their town on the man’s four-wheeler. He has to get there before it’s too late. The sun has already set. There’s no time to waste.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Reagan

“Everything all right, boss?” John asks from his position leaning against the door jamb.

“Yeah, I just don’t like the weak heart rate,” she admits as she takes Paige’s pulse. She prays that her new friend doesn’t die. Reagan’s seen enough of that for a while. She’s sick of it.

“Is she going to pull through, babe?”

Reagan sighs and brushes her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know, John. Don’t tell Simon, but I really don’t know. She’s not in good shape.”

She looks down upon Paige’s pale face and frowns because she knows that the kind of bullet wound she’s sustained are typically fatal. This may prove no less terminal. She just doesn’t want to see Simon have to go through that. He’s been through enough in his young life. Paige is all he has left for family. She understands completely. Reagan doesn’t know what she’d do without her sisters.

“Grandpa gone?” she asks, changing the subject because the alternative is to continue to fret about Paige, which will do no good. She’s not a theoretical person. She likes facts and skill versus theories and chance.

“Yeah, Kelly just took him to meet with Jay,” he informs her with a frown.

“Even if Mr. Hernandez knew something about the thievery, he probably isn’t going to share that with us. He hates us.”

“I don’t know if he hates us exactly, but he definitely likes the town split like this.”

“Screw him,” Reagan states with open disdain of their former town member. “He and his new friends can piss off.”

“I’ll agree with that,” John says with a grin. “Wanna’ stretch your legs a minute?”

“Sure,” she says, standing and leaving the room with her husband. “Only for a minute. I don’t want her unsupervised for more than a few minutes at a time.”

John leads her to the reception area where he hugs her, rubbing her sore back for a long while. Simon comes in the front door a minute later.

“How is she?” he blurts anxiously.

“Asleep, stable,” she tells her young protégé. “Where’s Derek?”

“Went to talk with the sheriff.”

He starts in the direction of the hallway before John stops him, “Hey, what happened? Did you guys find him?”

“Uh… yeah, we found him,” Simon replies, his eyes darting to Reagan nervously.

“Did you take care of it?” Reagan asks without preamble. She doesn’t care if Simon killed that man. She hopes he did. That piece of shit got nothing less than what he deserved.

“Yes, ma’am,” Simon replies.

“Where’s Cory and K-Dog? Have you heard anything?” John asks.

“Not yet, but I don’t have a radio, sir,” Simon answers with agitation. Reagan knows he wants to check on his sister.

She tells him, “Why don’t you sit with her for a while? I’ll be back soon to relieve you.”

“Thanks,” he says, runs back to Reagan and kisses her on the forehead before she can stop him. “Thanks, Reagan. Thanks for everything.”

Then he rushes from the room with his coat still on and his

rifle over his shoulder, leaving her humbled by his grateful attitude. She doesn’t have the heart to tell him that Paige could die.

“I don’t want him to get his hopes up too high,” she whispers.

“Hope’s all we got, babe,” John reminds her.

Her husband pulls her close again and hugs Reagan tightly against him. She draws from his inner strength.

“You should sit down and get off your feet for a while, honey,” he says and ushers her to a sofa in the waiting room.

“I’ll sit with you for just a minute, but I need to check on Paige soon.”

“You need to rest,” he says. “Don’t forget. You are pregnant. Remember?”

“How can I forget?”

John offers a soft smile and squeezes her hand.

“You’re carrying our next kid in there, boss,” he says and then presses his hand against her abdomen.

“Our next brat, you mean,” she corrects with a weary smile.

“Brat? Our kids won’t be brats.”

“Oh contraire, monsieur. Jacob isn’t exactly the most well-behaved little hooligan on the planet. Lately, Huntley’s been calling him the sass master. He’s practically still a baby, and already he’s defiant and rotten.”

John just chuckles and wraps his other arm around her shoulders.

“He has a lot of smart-alecky comebacks, John. This baby is gonna’ be a big brat, too. We obviously know nothing about parenting.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says and kisses the top of her head while his hand does little circles around her stomach. “I’ll still love our obnoxious brats, even if nobody else can stand to be around them. I love you, and you’re kind of a monster most of the time.”

She pokes his stomach with her elbow, getting a soft chuckle.

“I don’t know what we were thinking,” she admits with frustration.

“We weren’t,” he replies. “Someone else was doing the thinking for us, and we just have to have faith that the same someone else knows a little more about this stuff than we do.”

Reagan just snorts and changes the subject. “I wonder what’s taking Grandpa and Kelly so long. Doesn’t it seem like they should be back by now?”

John places another kiss to her forehead and says, “I’ll check.”

He goes outside to converse with the guards and to also use the radio. Reagan stands and stretches. This is going to be a long and exhausting watchful-waiting situation with Paige’s health. She could definitely use some caffeine, but, unfortunately, that was depleted long ago. Even a can of Coke would be helpful in her current state, although it probably wouldn’t be so great for the baby. She decides that pacing the waiting room while waiting for her husband to return would be a better use of her time.

She tries not to let her thoughts wander back to the previous evening when Mia died on their table. Grandpa suspected stroke, but they talked about it later while waiting for John to come back with Sam. That woman could’ve had a heart attack, too. She was so skinny and weak, way too weak to deliver a baby. Reagan can’t help but feel jarred about the loss of their patient last night and how it could’ve been her. This isn’t a rational train of thought, but, nonetheless, she can’t stop the fear from entering her mind. She knows her situation is less life-threatening since she is healthy, at a normal weight, strong, but watching the woman die on their table had stunned her and struck Reagan to her core.

John blasts through the door a moment later, rushes to her, and announces loudly, “The library’s on fire! I’m heading down there to help. Stay here. Keep the place locked up. Have Simon stay on watch.”

“What the hell happened?”

“They think it was set on purpose. Mrs. Browning didn’t open it today because the weather’s been bad. It was empty.”

“That shit didn’t start itself,” Reagan observes.

John grabs her face between his two large hands and presses a fast kiss against her closed mouth. “Keep your gun on you and stay inside.”

Reagan barely has time to nod before he’s gone. She noticed that his rifle was out in front of him in a ready position. She goes to the room where Paige is resting.

“Was that John I heard?” Simon asks from his seat beside his sister.

“Yeah, I guess someone lit the library on fire. Or that’s what they’re thinking. He went down there to help.”

“Crap,” Simon mutters. “I should go.”

Before he rises all the way, Reagan stops him, “No, he said for you to stay here and stand guard. You can just stay with Paige. I’ll watch the front.”

“I’ll keep an eye on the back, too,” he offers.

She returns to the front room, this time with her pistol out of its holster concealed under her hospital scrubs. Her pacing picks up speed. She removes her scrubs and pulls on her jacket in case she has to go outside. Remaining in her sanitary hospital scrubs seems ridiculous if there is a battle about to take place. She has to defend their clinic. Everyone in town relies on them. Paige can’t even move or be moved right now. They can’t allow someone to torch the place. She paces the front room and re-checks the window locks. It doesn’t take long before Cory knocks on the front door and Reagan lets him in.

“What’s going on? Where’s everyone at?” he says without pause.

“Grandpa and Derek are still talking with Jay’s group. I haven’t heard back from them yet,” Reagan informs him.

“Shit,” he curses and pulls the slide on his sidearm. “Where’s John?”

“The library’s on fire,” she tells him. “We think it…”

“Vandals. I know. I know their plan and who they are now. Is Simon with her?”

Reagan assumes he is speaking of Paige. She nods quickly, biting her lower lip nervously.

“Stay here. Keep the doors locked. I have to get over there.”

“Where?”

“To your grandpa and my brother before it’s too late,” Cory states with fear in his eyes. It is rare that Reagan has seen this expression in him. Cory is nothing if not deadly in his own right, but this panicked face he’s making is scaring her.

“What do you mean?”

“No time to explain, Reagan,” he says and goes to the front door again. “Stay here.”

“Ok, we will.”

“Where’s that Vicky woman live? What’s the street name?”

“Um… Edison, I think. A few doors down from your armory friends. What do you need her for, Cory?”

“I’ll be back,” he says and leaves, running to a four-wheeler that Reagan’s never seen before.

His frantic behavior is causing a new tidal wave of nerves and nausea to knot up in her stomach. Simon comes out a moment later, and she conveys this threatening new circumstance to him. He seems as worried as her.

“Cory might need me,” he says and walks toward the door.

Reagan grabs his sleeve and holds him back. “No, Simon! Don’t leave me. Shit, if you leave, I could be screwed here alone with her.”

“Right, right,” he says, nodding distractedly.

“If someone attacks the clinic and I’m here by myself, I might not be able to prevent them from getting to Paige.”

Simon grabs her and squeezes her in a quick bear hug before releasing her again. “I won’t leave you, Reagan. Don’t worry. I was just concerned about Cor.”

“Yeah,” she says with a shaky nod. “Me, too. I’m worried about Grandpa and Kelly, too.”

“I know,” he says with a heavy burden and peers out the remaining front window.

She notes how many times his hand grips the stock of his sniper rifle, the tension in his posture and the way his jaw flexes. In so many ways, Simon is still just a kid, so innocent and naïve. And yet, in other ways, he is a battle-hardened soldier, capable and strong.

“I’ll sit with Paige for a while,” she volunteers, to which he agrees.

Reagan tries to keep her mind occupied with Paige’s care and making notes on her chart with updates on her vitals, but it hardly works. It seems like time has not only slowed but has come to a complete stop. A sharp knock on the clinic door alerts her, and Reagan runs to the waiting room again.

One of the town sentries says to Simon as she enters, “Hey, man, be on the lookout. Something’s going down. There’s another fire. One of the homes down the road. This is some kind of a planned attack. Your husband sent me to tell you guys to stay put in here and keep watch.”

Reagan nods to their friend, and Simon shuts the door again. How can this be happening again? Who are these idiots anyway and why do they want to kill them?

She talks it over with Simon, gaining more perspective by what he knows about the man he shot, Mike the creep. They are interrupted by a loud clanging coming from the rear of the clinic. Simon whips up his sidearm, and Reagan follows suit.

“Get back behind me, Reagan,” he orders.

“We should split up,” she suggests, getting a shake of his head for an answer.

“No, stay together. We have to keep Paige safe. Follow me,” he instructs.

Reagan follows him to the back, passing Paige’s room along the way. She pulls the door to her room completely closed, hoping if they are killed that whoever is making the noise will not find her. She isn’t even coherent. She has no way of protecting herself and cannot defend herself in her comatose state.

More rattling noises come from outside the back door. Simon indicates they should go into the next room, so she follows closely behind him. They can see out the small, back window. Two men are out there. One of them is lighting a Molotov cocktail-style mechanism with his lighter. He has a bandana pulled up over the front of his face. His partner in crime does, as well.

“They’re going to burn down the clinic,” he whispers.

“No way,” Reagan promises.

“I’ll take the one on the left…” he states but is interrupted by a blast of gunfire outside. They both jump back and press themselves against the wall. Luckily no bullets fly through the window at them.

“What the hell was that?” Reagan whispers frantically. “Are they shooting at us?”

Simon looks nervously at her and shakes his head with confusion. A moment later, someone knocks on the back door and yells.

They go cautiously toward it but stop well before they are in danger of being shot through the door.

“Who is it?” Simon shouts in an authoritative voice.

“Reagan! Let me in!”

“It’s John,” Reagan says and rushes to the door with apprehension. Upon opening it, she sees that John has killed the men. One of the town deputies is with him stomping out their oil soaked rags.

Her husband doesn’t even explain or stop. John slams the door and locks it again before stating without preamble, “Simon, grab your gear and get over to the east tower. Cory’s on his way to meet his brother and Herb. They may have trouble.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain in a minute,” he tells her with impatience and brushes past Reagan. He is leading Simon to the front door. “Snipe anyone who looks suspicious. Cory should be there any minute. Protect the family at all costs, brother.”

“Yes, sir,” Simon returns ominously and darts out the door.

“What the hell’s going on?” Reagan cries with near hysteria.

“We’re under attack,” John tells her. “Again.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Simon

He pulls on his night-vision gear, fastens his throat mic and sprints through neighborhoods to reach the watch tower they just finished erecting last month. The sun is gone, the cold has returned, and he is yet again involved in another battle for their safety and the survival of their family. He passes one of the sheriff’s deputies and waves as he goes to let the other man know he is not the enemy. It seems to take forever to reach the tower, but he finally does. Simon climbs up, slipping a few times and makes it to the top deck where he can see a huge section of their small village and most of Sheriff Jay’s new town.

“In position,” Simon says into his mic as he catches a glimpse of Derek jogging down the street to catch up with Cory.

Cory returns with, “I’m almost to them. There’s a big crowd over here.”

Simon scans through the starlight scope of his rifle until he finally catches a glimpse of Cory moving through the large crowd of people gathered in the center of Jay’s village. He looks around the area, spotting Kelly and Herb talking with Jay at the foot of the steps to their newly appointed town hall, which is really just an abandoned house.

“What’s going on?” Simon asks his friend.

“Your sister tipped me off to this a while back,” Cory explains. “I just couldn’t figure it out. The men who attacked the farm are the ones living in Jay’s village. Remember Greg from the town meeting?”

“Yeah,” Simon replies.

“I’ve got Vicky with me,” Cory explains. “I want to see if she recognizes any of them. She said that some of them came to that asshole’s house in the woods.”

“Wasn’t she at the town meeting when Jay seceded from us? That Greg guy was there.”

“No, she didn’t attend. There’s Doc and Kel.”

Simon watches through his scope as his friend waves and approaches Herb and Kelly. So many of Jay’s townspeople are circled around. They seem angry and keep shouting, but they are too far away for Simon to hear what they are saying. He hopes they aren’t being antagonistic toward the family. He would hate to have to kill a bunch of them to maintain control of the crowd.

Sound comes through Cory’s mic. He must’ve kept it open so Simon could hear what was going on down there. An unbidden chill of unease races up his spine.

“…I told you, Herb,” Jay is saying to Doc. “I took in some men a few months ago, but they’re harmless. I’m not harboring criminals over here if that’s what you think.”

Doc says calmly, “I’m not sure who you’ve taken in. We aren’t a part of the process anymore, not for your side of town.”

“No shit,” Jay rudely points out. “But we’re not idiots. The men we took in were valuable assets to our town. They hunt. They provide. They aren’t thieves, and I don’t appreciate the accusations.”

Cory steps forward and interrupts, “Hey, if they aren’t a threat, then point them out. All of them.”

“We don’t take orders from any of you,” someone blurts and comes forward from behind Jay.

The woman beside Cory, Vicky, yanks his arm and pulls him back. Simon watches as she talks with him, and his friend nods with finality. All Simon can hear is muffled whispering. Cory sends Vicky on her way, back to their side of town. She isn’t walking slowly, either, and glances over her shoulder a few times with what looks like fear.

“Affirmative,” Cory tells him. “We’ve got ourselves our first rat.”

Kelly does not have his throat mic or earpiece in, so Cory is going to have to take his brother to the side to tell him what is going on.

“Watch for rats to come out of the woodwork, Professor,” he says as he walks back to the front of the crowd. “Once this escalates, it could get ugly real fast.”

“Was that Greg? Is that who she just fingered? I can’t see from here,” he asks his friend.

“Yup,” Cory confirms. “It’s on.”

“We should get Doc outta’ there and come back,” Simon warns with fear for his mentor.

“I’ll try,” Cory says.

His best friend makes his way toward the cement steps again, and as he goes, Simon can just make out what some of the townspeople are yelling. They seem angry, unhappy about the current state of their new town. They are blaming Jay and want the McClane family to know about it. Many comments filter through Cory’s open mic; “you don’t know what you’re doing,” “not qualified…,” “we’re starving!” Simon feels sorry for them, but they also chose this path.

“Who in your group is running the food pantry?” Doc asks when Cory is next to him again. “With the recent thefts in our town, you’ll want to check your food stores. It could be possible that you’ve been hit, as well.”

His friend whispers to him, “Hey, Doc, we gotta’ go, sir. This place ain’t safe for you.”

“Just a moment, son,” Herb replies.

“Kel, we need to get outta’ here,” Cory tries next. He leads his brother over to the side and mutters, “Dude, Vicky just pointed out Greg as one of those bastards that visited her in the cabin where that asshole had her tied. Greg’s with the creeps who raided the farm. These dudes that Jay allowed into his town are from the Target assault.”

“Shit,” Kelly replies quietly.

“We gotta get Doc outta’ here before the shit hits,” Derek says next. “He could be killed.

“Cor, we’ve got a problem,” Simon tells them. “Greg’s comin’ hard at Doc.”

“On it,” his friend returns and shoves his way back to stand in front of Herb. Then he yells boldly in Greg’s face. “Back the fuck off, man!”

“You sons-a-bitches came over here runnin’ your mouths,” Greg yells. “You wanna’ start some shit with us? Accusin’ us of stealin’ your shit?”

He spits on the ground in front of Cory, and Simon figures it’s all over, that his friend will lose it. He normally doesn’t have a lot of self-control. Simon is surprised when Cory simply pushes Herb farther back toward Derek and Kelly and takes a few steps in retreat with him. They continue to do this until they’ve cleared most of the crowd. Simon has the best position from his perch to keep them safe, but he’d rather not pop off rounds into a crowd that size or get Herb involved in the melee of an all-out gunfight if they don’t have to.

“We’re comin’ out, Professor,” Cory says into his mic.

“I gotcha,’” Simon returns, letting his friend know he has them covered.

They exit through Jay’s town gate, and Cory rushes Herb and Kelly to meet up with Simon. He climbs down and cuts off part of their walk by connecting at the nearest intersection.

“Damn it!” Cory hisses as he draws near.

Herb says, “I can’t believe she recognized Greg as one of the men. I wouldn’t have guessed it. I mean the young man was hostile in the town meeting, but I didn’t think he was capable of such atrocities.”

“He’s not the only one, Herb,” Simon tells them. “There is vandalism and burning of buildings going on in our town.”

Kelly’s hard jaw flexes with anger. “Bullshit. Let’s go.”

“I’ve got a four-wheeler parked a few blocks from here,” Cory says. “I’ll take Doc back to the clinic where it’s safe.”

“We’ll stay on patrol,” Kelly says. “This shit just got a lot more dangerous.”

“And we can’t move Paige to the farm,” Herb says. “She’s way too critical and unstable right now.”

Simon sighs hard and frowns at such devastating news coming from Herb, who is usually so calm and collected.

Derek says, “We need to be careful with her, but also keep the clinic spared from being burned. We may have to fight them to do it, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take. We’re done being bullied by a bunch of punk ass bitches like that.”

“Let’s roll,” Kelly says, and they move out.

He notices that the four of them try to surround Herb as much as possible. He is unarmed and probably the biggest target for this group to take out. Simon can’t afford to let anything happen to Herb. He’s been like a father to him for the last four years. The entire family revolves around him. Once they get to the four-wheeler, Cory drives and has Herb sit behind him. Then they are moving together again, and he and Kelly jog beside it with their weapons at the ready. Derek pulls up the rear. When they arrive at the clinic, they all go inside.

“What do we do?” Cory asks. “I could just go take care of Greg, but that isn’t going to help us sniff out the rest of them.”

They are standing in the waiting room of the clinic having a meeting, and Simon just finds himself wishing that Paige, Reagan, and Doc were back at the farm. This night is going to become very volatile and dangerous.

“I just don’t get the impression that Jay is aware of what these men are doing within our community and what they’ve done in the past,” Doc laments.

“Perhaps not,” John offers with an indifferent expression.

Simon knows he couldn’t care less about the fate of Jay or anyone else in his group. John can be a cold-blooded killer when he wants to be. Simon has seen it many times first hand. He’s pretty sure he’s going to see it again tonight.

“We have to get rid of them,” Kelly says. “That’s all there is to it.”

“They’re gonna burn the whole damn town down if we don’t stop them tonight,” Derek reminds them.

“I’ll call in K-Dog,” Cory offers and leaves the room.

“With reinforcements,” John starts, “we could probably finish this tonight.”

“I’d like to put it behind us,” Simon agrees with a firm nod. “I’m sick of worrying about these jerks coming back or hitting the farm again.”

“Me, too,” Reagan injects.

“He’ll be here in twenty,” Cory says when he returns to the room. “They found another fire just on the outskirts of our town on their way back in. Bastards planned on burning everyone out.”

“This is going to take some planning,” Kelly says.

And that is precisely what they do. They plan for nearly an hour. K-Dog and Paul offer forth good suggestions to go along with their plans. They even call three more men from their condo village to help. If they were fighting these punks face to face, it would be one thing, but they are going to have to hunt each one of them down like a thief in the night, which is an apt comparison.

From time to time, different townspeople come to the back door to report on the fires. Everyone is working in tandem to get them extinguished as quickly as possible. The people of their town are pulling together because so many of them own so little, and those meager few possessions are all they have left.

When the meeting is over, they all know their specific jobs to do. Reagan and Doc will hold down the fort along with two deputies who will offer support and added guarding of the place. The rest of them are on the prowl, working in pairs of two. He is hunting with Cory.

“These assholes aren’t getting away with this,” his friend states as they jog down the road.

The night air is so cold that Simon can see his breath. He doesn’t feel the cold, though. His mind is fixated on the men who want to destroy them, kill off the McClane family and ruin the town they’ve worked so hard to restore.

“No, we’ll find them,” he confirms to Cory.

“They shot Paige,” Cory reminds him. “This isn’t over.”

“Hell no,” Simon says with renewed grit.

They turn down an alley behind the old grocery store. At the end of the short road is a small church. Some of the people in town have been going to this chapel on Sundays and are trying to remodel it from the water damage it has endured over the years. Cory’s hand shoots up to call a halt. He indicates with two fingers toward the church. Simon sees them. Three men are dousing rags with fuel. They are going to burn the church. He’s not sure if this is a mortal sin, but for them, it is about to be.

“Let’s take care of them, Professor,” Cory says. “I’ll take the one on the right.”

“Ready,” Simon returns.

Without pausing, he and Cory rush toward the men and are able to shoot two of them immediately. The third returns fire and flees. They pursue him until he runs into a short strip mall’s dollar store.

“I’ll flank,” Cory says and takes off at a sprint to the rear.

Simon cautiously climbs through the broken window and quickly scans the area. A rustling sound comes from further inside the building. He walks to that section and stays low so as not to take a bullet to the forehead. He isn’t wearing body armor. They hadn’t exactly been thinking they’d need all of their tactical gear, but he does have his night-vision as he creeps along the deserted aisles.

The man shoots once in Simon’s direction, causing him to squat lower. Then another shot rings out.

“All clear, Professor,” Cory calls to him.

Simon joins his friend at the back of the building where the other man is lying dead, face up. He calls it in to the rest of the group to let them know that three of Greg’s men are now dead. The plan is to stabilize their town and then move to Jay’s new village to pursue Greg and whoever is left of his gang over there. Getting them out of their town and cleaning house at home first is the best plan. They don’t want to pursue Greg just yet and leave the townspeople vulnerable to more fires and attacks.

They find out from Kelly that they have also taken out two men. John’s group has found one man, who they’ve tied up and left in the city hall building because he was unarmed and just standing watch for others. Simon is quite sure that he’ll be killed eventually but spared temporarily for questioning. John is there doing the interrogation while the others are still searching for the amateur arsonists.

He jogs with Cory toward the southern end of town where the fence is much weaker and a lot easier to breach if anyone chose to do so.

“Over here,” Simon calls out to his friend. Cory joins him at his side where he’s squatted at the wooden fence. “This wasn’t like this the other day when I walked a patrol the last time we were in town.”

“Yeah, someone’s dug under,” Cory nods in agreement.

There is tunneling under the fence that has obviously been dug deep and wide enough to accommodate a human. Cory hands him his rifle.

“Hold this,” he says. “I’m going in.”

“We should wait for the others,” Simon warns with more caution and forethought than Cory ever uses.

“Fuck that, man,” his eloquent friend replies. “I wanna’ see where this leads.”

“All right, but I’m coming, too,” Simon returns. “I’ll pass our guns under once you’re through.”

Cory salutes once and drops to his stomach. A second later he is under the fence with ease and gone. Simon slides the rifles under where Cory reaches for them. Then he crawls under just like Cory, mimicking his friend’s style. When he gets to the other side, Simon is surprised to see campfires in the distance of Jay’s small town.

“Fresh tracks,” Cory points out with the tip of his rifle. “Let’s follow them.”

Simon only looks back once before nodding. He’s not sure they should do this alone, but he also wants to know who dug the tunnel and where the tracks lead. Whoever it was, knew it led from Jay’s town to their side of Pleasant View. His curiosity is pulling too hard at him to turn back, so he follows his friend.

They come to a building that used to be an old pizza parlor, and Cory presses his back to the brick and vine-covered wall. Voices nearby draw their attention. The sound grows louder and louder until the two people, a man and a small boy, pass them by without even realizing they are slinking in the shadows. He nods to Cory, who returns it, and they move out again. They cross a street a few minutes later, still following the fence-breacher’s footsteps.

“Over here,” Simon points out a few minutes later. The tracks make a turn down a long street but swerve through someone’s former yard. He leads the way as they continue on their journey.

“Here,” Cory indicates with his rifle. “He went into this building.”

Simon peeks into the broken window of the store front while Cory keeps watch. They have arrived at a former burger restaurant that has a black and white checkered floor, dusty but still red vinyl booths and a counter with bar stools. High priced condos reside above and around the small strip mall with restaurants and gazebos. He squats beside Cory and shrugs.

“What the hell? Is this where they meet or something?” Cory asks.

“Not sure. Maybe he lives here?”

“Let’s check it out.”

Simon nods firmly. He has to know if this is the man that was behind the scheming with Mike. If so, that person must die.

They climb through the window, and Simon winces as he steps on broken glass. It makes what seems to him like a lot of noise in such a desolate place. Cory pushes forward. The building seems empty, nobody around, but they’ve thought things like this before and been proven wrong when some idiot comes at them with a gun. They use the utmost discretion while searching abandoned buildings.

“This is weird,” Cory whispers.

Simon nods and says, “Doesn’t make sense.”

They search the entire restaurant and find nothing. Then they head to the back where the storage area and walk-in coolers are located. Cory ransacks the shelving units, which are mostly empty. Simon pulls open the freezer door and hits pay dirt.

“Bingo,” Simon says to Cory, who halts his own search and joins him at the entrance to the cooler.

“That’s the missing shit from our town,” Cory swears. Then he adds, “Fuckers” for good measure.

Simon calls it in and finds out that John has successfully interrogated the prisoner and also that six more men are living in Jay’s town including Greg, who is the town leader, the main informant to Mike and also his cousin.

“These bastards just don’t quit,” Cory says with a chuckle. “It’s like trying to kill goddamn cockroaches.”

“I’ll bring the Raid,” Simon jokes as they hold their position in the burger joint and wait for the rest of the team.

Derek tells them through the radio, “I’m coming your way, guys. Don’t shoot.”

A few minutes later, Derek, his partner and John and Kelly join them in the back of the burger joint. They hash out a new plan.

“I know where Greg’s house is,” John says.

“How?” Simon asks.

“From the prisoner,” he answers. “He’s not in the same neighborhood as Jay. His friends live in an apartment building with him. There are women and children.”

“Shit,” Derek says. “We’ll have to go at this very carefully.”

Cory asks, “And if their women shoot at us?”

Kelly pauses a long time before saying because nobody else wants to, “Do what you have to do. Our family and the town come first.”

They move out together this time and head to Greg’s apartment complex. The security in their new town sucks. They don’t run into one person on patrol or anyone guarding the place. They split up into two teams, one that will flank and the other that will push in from the front. Simon and Cory are working together behind the apartment building. He pauses a moment to take a deep breath as they rest against the back wall in the pitch dark waiting for the go ahead command to come across their ear pieces.

“Ready, Professor?” Cory asks quietly.

“You know I am,” Simon replies, slings his long rifle and exchanges it for his pistol. He’s carrying a Beretta 9 mm tonight, a pistol with which he is very comfortable.

“I’m sick of their shit,” Cory tells him. “Our townspeople aren’t going to live in fear over a bunch of thug punks.”

Simon bumps his fist against his friend’s. A moment later, John’s deep voice comes over their comms.

“Let’s roll,” Cory says and tries the back door.

It’s locked, so his friend kicks it a few times. The noise no longer matters. It’s go time, and they are left with no choice but to get inside regardless the noise.

“They must have it blocked with something,” Simon observes.

Cory kicks it a few more times as Simon bashes a nearby window, sending glass flying. They breach the building through the open space, careful not to catch their gear on shards of glass still attached to the frame. The room is empty, has been for years by the appearance of the place. The next room is also desolate. Kelly tells them through their ear pieces that the front apartments are also devoid of people. Somewhere in the building, men are arguing. Cory indicates that they head upstairs by way of the nearby, dark stairwell, to which Simon nods. As they ascend, a soft glimmer of orange light is coming from the second-floor hallway.

“…he said to stay here,” a man says.

“Fuck that,” another remarks. “They’re onto us, man. You heard the old man. They suspect we’re the ones stealing.”

A third man with a much deeper voice says, “And where the hell are they? Greg said they’d be back in a few hours. It’s almost midnight, man. We gotta bounce. I ain’t goin’ down for this shit. It was all his idea anyway.”

“Doesn’t matter,” one of them concludes. “We’re all in it together. This is our chance to get some payback on these assholes.”

“I’m givin’ him ten more minutes, and then I’m flyin’.”

They continue to argue as Simon and Cory advance.

John says, “Two Hadj on this side. We’ll handle them.”

“We’ve got three,” Cory relays and then nods to Simon.

They take the men by surprise and offer them merciful deaths. He is not in the torture and suffering business, although he’d like to go back and give some to Mike. They find a woman asleep in another apartment and leave her alone. She is unaware that they are even in her room.

“Sending four women and two kids to the front of the building,” Kelly says. “They aren’t a part of this.”

“Roger,” Cory says softly as they continue their search.

They don’t discover anyone else and meet up with the others at the rear of the building again.

K-Dog asks, “Anyone find Greg?”

“Unfortunately, not us,” Simon answers. “We took out three, left a woman. The men said they were ordered to stay here until he got back. We assume they mean Greg, that they’re waiting for Greg to get back. I think he’s with others.”

“We wait,” John says after a few moments of deliberation. “If he’s coming back, we wait until he does and finish this.”

Cory pounds fists with him while Simon stands patiently nearby. His hands are growing cold. He wishes this night would end faster so that he can get back to Paige at the clinic. His mind is preoccupied with concern for her.

“I’m heading over to find Jay,” Kelly says. “Simon, why don’t you come with me? We need to find out if he’s a part of this.”

“Yes, sir,” he says.

They walk quickly but cautiously toward the community where Jay lives. These were the nice, new but unfinished homes that were here when the country fell.

“What were the people yelling about when you were talking with Doc? I heard some of it through the open mic, but not enough to understand.”

Kelly sighs and says, “Guess a lot of folks here are pissed. Seems that Greg and Jay promised them a lot of bullshit that they can’t deliver. They want to come back and join up with Pleasant View again.”

“That’s too bad,” Simon acknowledges. “I feel kind of sorry for them. They just wanted something better.”

“There’s no easy way through this,” Kelly says. “People gotta realize that. Surviving now takes a lot of hard work. Nobody’s gonna hand them something or do the work for them. They’ve got to pull through this on their own.”

“Do you think the family and the town would allow them to come back when this is all over?”

“Depends on how many of them knew about the thefts and that it was all being orchestrated by their own leaders. I don’t know.”

“Do you think they knew?”

Kelly shrugs, “Not sure. Maybe. It’s not likely that men like Greg and his group or that Mike asshole would let people be a part of their planning and scheming. Most of the folks on this side of town always seemed like okay people when they were in Pleasant View. I think they just got steered in the wrong direction.”

Simon nods as they come to Jay’s home. A faint light is shining inside. Kelly knocks on the door, and Simon holds his pistol down at his side.

The look on Jay’s face is one of genuine surprise to see them again.

“What’s going on?” he immediately asks. “Why are you guys here? Are you coming to accuse us of stealing again?”

“Daddy!” a little girl not more than five years old calls and runs down the hall behind Jay where she ends up clinging to his leg. “Who are they?”

“Just friends, princess,” he says and rubs the top of her dark head. “Go back to bed.”

She does as he says, running toward the stairs.

“Sorry,” Jay says and looks at them with an uncomfortable grin before shrugging, “Kids.”

“Yeah, we’ve got plenty of those on the farm,” Kelly agrees with a chuff. “Hey, man. Can we talk for a minute?”

He seems uncertain, looks down the street both ways before reluctantly nodding and letting them inside. Simon notes that his house is very sparsely furnished. His daughter looked dirty and scrawny. Jay’s wife comes into the kitchen with an apron on and smiles at them. She seems thin and frail, too.

“Can I offer you both something to drink?” she asks. “We don’t have much, but I might have some hot tea I could put on.”

“No, thanks, ma’am,” Kelly says and waves his hand. “We’re good.”

She nods and leaves the room, and Jay offers them a seat at the table.

“What do you want?” Jay asks without his usual flair for bravado and antagonism.

“We know who the thief is now. We’ve found a huge stash of items that were taken from our town food stores.”

“Good, now you know it wasn’t us,” Jay says.

“Actually, it was,” Kelly tells him. “We found it in the old burger restaurant, back in the cooler.”

His face pales and Simon sees the panic in the man’s eyes.

“Wait,” Jay starts. “Are you sure?”

Kelly nods slowly. “Yes, we’re sure. Greg’s been working with a man named Mike. They attacked our farm last year, had a woman in our town held captive, other women, too.”

“I don’t understand,” Jay says and rubs his forehead. “He’s been helping me. We had a plan.”

“Was that plan world domination?” Kelly asks without humor. Then he adds, “Or just to take over Pleasant View and kill all of us?”
“What?” Jay exclaims. “No way, man. Kill you guys? Why the hell would I want to do that?”

“That was his plan,” Kelly informs him. “Mike, Greg, the whole group you allowed into your new town was in on the plan. They’ve been stealing from us…”

“No, they’ve been going on runs for small supplies,” Jay argues.

“Not too far,” Simon says. “They’ve only gone on runs to our side of town taking our stuff.”

“He said they were looking for supplies in Nashville,” Jay adds with confusion.

“They took a shot at my brother the other day, clubbed him over the head. They tried to kill him. This evening Mike shot at me, missed and hit Simon’s sister, Paige.”

“Oh, shit,” Jay swears and hangs his head. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, very sure,” Kelly says.

“What if it’s not him? It could…”

A knock on the back door startles Simon and Jay, but Kelly remains calm. He holds a finger to his lips and shakes his head.

“You order a pizza?” he whispers with sardonic humor to Jay, who confirms that he is not expecting visitors at this late hour. “We’ll wait in the living room. See who it is. If it’s Greg, invite him in.”

Jay nods and goes slowly toward the kitchen door as he and Kelly hide in the next room, which is completely dark.

“What are you doing here, Greg?” Jay immediately asks. “Is something wrong in the town?”

“Fuck!” the other man swears loudly.

“Shh! Hey, man, my kids are in bed,” Jay admonishes.

“They’re onto me,” he says.

“Who? What are you talking about?”

“Those fucking McClanes. Mike shot the one red-headed chick, and now they’re figuring it all out,” he confesses.

“Who’s Mike?”

“Never mind. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything. I need some weapons. Me and Ron’s gonna be gone for a while. We gotta get outta here.”

“Wait, what?” Jay asks. “You can’t leave. We’re supposed to be working on building a town security team and building that greenhouse you guys promised. People are hungry, Greg. They’re getting angry at us. Some of them want to go back to the other side of town, back to the Pleasant View side.”

“Fuck ‘em. Let ‘em go. Who gives a shit?” the other man barks, his voice rising an octave.

“But they’re hungry, man. We can’t let the little kids starve to death.”

“Who cares? We weren’t plannin’ on having kids and shit in the new town anyway.”

“What? Says who? I never agreed to that,” Jay argues.

“Look, kids are a pain in the ass. We’ll have women, but we ain’t havin’ no fucking kids hangin’ around. That’s the plan that me and Mike came up with. Fuck!” he yells loudly.

“That’s not right. I have kids. You knew that.”

“Gimme’ a gun goddamn it,” Greg hisses with growing hostility.

“I can’t give you my gun,” Jay explains. “If I gave you my gun, I’d have nothing to protect my family. We only have two. My wife needs to have one to protect our kids. That’s the only protection she has. I don’t want anything to happen to her or my kids, man.”

“Fuck that. When this shit’s over, and we take back that other town, there ain’t gonna be no fucking kids over there, not even yours. If you don’t like that, you can live somewhere else. I ain’t givin’ up food for kids. Your woman can stay but no kids.”

“That’s not right,” Jay repeats.

“I’m going over to the apartment to get my men. Then I’m comin’ back to get you and go finish this. Those bastards are going down tonight.”

Kelly taps his shoulder and whispers to Simon, “You’d better go out back and find his partner. I’ll handle Greg.”

Simon nods and gives his friend the thumbs up. He slips silently back out the front door and slinks along the wall of the house until he comes to the corner. Greg’s friend should be waiting somewhere nearby. He creeps around looking for someone hiding but doesn’t find the man. As he’s rounding the corner to the back of the house where a detached garage is located, Simon hears the report of a gun from the second floor. He looks up quickly, fully prepared to offer cover fire to Kelly. Jay’s wife is staring down at the man she’s just killed with a shotgun, likely Greg’s partner. She looks like she’s in shock. He doesn’t know her, but Simon guesses that this is her first kill.

A moment later, a second, muffled shot comes from the rear of the garage. Kelly emerges from the side of it. He shoots Simon a nod to let him know that he’s taken care of Greg. They can no longer offer quarter to these thugs, who have more than once reassembled and built an army against them.

They tell Jay to watch for any others who have escaped their wrath and to deal with them the same way. He agrees to round up a hunting party to search, but Simon’s pretty sure they’ve already killed them all.

They depart on better terms than they’ve been with Jay in months. He and Kelly join back up with John and Derek and the others and walk back to their section of town through the gate this time. It feels good to have this behind them as if a weight has been lifted from their shoulders and they are all in high spirits.

“I’ll drive Reagan and Doc home if they want to go, John,” Cory says and pats John’s arm, which causes him to wince.

“Easy there, Cor,” Kelly says. “The dog whisperer got bit by a litter of puppies the other night.”

“Coyotes,” John corrects with a sneer.

“I heard it was a wiener dog,” Derek says as he, too, also joins the melee.

“Ya’ don’t say,” K-Dog joins in. “Gotta watch those wieners, Doctor Death.”

Kelly scratches his scruffy beard and says, “Chihuahua so I heard it.”

He and K-Dog bump fists.

“No, man,” Derek says. “Wiener dog Chihuahua cross.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Kelly says and slaps the back of John’s shoulder. “A Chi-weenie!”

“Y’all are idiots,” John sulks with good humor.

They pick up the pace as they come closer to the clinic. Simon breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that it is untouched and unharmed. Then his heart stops when he sees the look on Doc’s face as he comes out into the cold night air to greet them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Cory

The clinic is full of people, crowded and congested with family members and patients. Most of them look as if they are suffering from smoke inhalation and burns from working on the fires. The Victorian home across the street is lit up and open for business, as well. Cory doesn’t care one whit for what’s going on with any of them. He only wants news on Paige.

“We were losing her,” Reagan explains as they all crowd into Doc’s office at the clinic. “We tested her blood. Then we scanned our patient files. Mrs. Browning, the librarian, was a match. We sent one of our guards down to her house to see if she’d be willing to donate for Paige. She’s back there now with her.”

Simon tries to brush past them, but Cory holds him back.

“This transfusion should help,” Doc explains patiently. “Her heart rate was dropping too low, her blood pressure was bottoming out. We’ll do another in six hours if this doesn’t show an improvement.”

“What else can we do?” Simon asks on a sob. Cory places his hand on his friend’s shoulder to offer comfort. He highly doubts if it is effective.

“Watchful-waiting, son,” Doc tells him. He nods over his shoulder and takes Simon with him to another room.

This news must be pretty damn bad if he wants to talk with Simon in private. Cory looks at Reagan, who won’t make eye contact with him. This does nothing to make him feel more confident that Paige will recover.

“How bad?” John asks his wife.

“Her next step is organ malfunction, coma, life support,” she drones in a frustrated tone and flings her hand up as if she can’t take anymore.

“All right,” John says in a comforting manner and takes his wife in his arms. “What can we do? Can we go for more supplies or equipment?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers brokenly.

“Think about it,” he says to Reagan. “If you need anything else for her, send us.”

Reagan nods and walks away. Then she comes back and says, “If we need to put her on a ventilator, we don’t have the capabilities of doing so.”

“What about the one at the farm?” John asks.

She shakes her head, “We need that for the new baby. My dad called in a while ago to say that he was doing better and that the farm is safe and unharmed, but I don’t want to bring that ventilator here and take it away from Daniel. He isn’t anywhere near out of the woods yet. Besides, that’s not really the same equipment we’d need for her.”

“So we go and get a new ventilator,” Cory demands and steps forward.

Kelly says, “That’s easier said than done, bro.”

“No, it’s not. We need it. We get it. That’s what we do.”

His brother nods and frowns as if he, too, understands how grave the situation with Paige is becoming.

“Let’s wait a few hours and watch to see if she progresses,” Reagan says. “The transfusion should help. Her recovery is just going to be long and slow if she pulls through. Now, we have a lot of injured people out there. We could use everyone’s help.”

She puts them to work herding patients through the clinic, treating the burn victims and taking others who will need to stay overnight in the house across the street. Mrs. Browning is given some of the food and milk that they have to keep up her strength. Then Cory walks her back down the street to her own home again for rest. She complains endlessly about the state of her partially burned, beloved library, and he promises that they’ll repair and restock it as soon as possible. He extricates himself from her and rushes back to the clinic where he tries to be helpful. Six children are in pretty bad shape with smoke inhalation and burns. He assists Herb for a while with them until Doc has him step out to have John call Dave the Mechanic to see if their new pediatrician could come over and take a look at them. Their new friend agrees to come over as soon as they can. Apparently, they are dealing with their own bullshit over in Hendersonville that sounds similar to what they just went through. He assured John that they’ve got it under control but that they’d come over later in the day. Before Cory can even get to Paige’s room, Reagan has him help her with a man who has third-degree burns on his arm and second degree on his face. He’s never helped with anything like this, and the work is gory, and the man is in great pain. Cory is still angry that this even happened in their town. The sentries need to be trained by them. None of them even caught the breached and damaged fence or the tunneling under the other. They have become lax and careless in the defense of their town, and it can never happen again. The family can’t be in town twenty-four seven to babysit them. They need a full-blown militia now.

He read once about a group of men in San Francisco in the mid-1800’s who formed what was called the Committee of Vigilance to combat rampant crime, election rigging, corrupt politicians, financial fraud, and a staggering number of murders in their city. These were well armed, honest citizens who wanted to take back their town, drive off the criminal element and prosecute politicians who were corrupt. It is time for the Pleasant View Committee of Vigilance to form, and he plans on discussing it with the Rangers and Doc at the first chance he gets. This can no longer go on in their town. They will also need to discuss with their sheriff the matter of Jay’s group and their thieving neighbors.

Cory isn’t sure who had knowledge of the thefts, or the plans and plotting against the McClane family and their town, and for this reason, he is unsure of whether or not they should be allowed back into their town. These people have now become untrustworthy, a potential crack in the structure of the town’s stability.

By the time he is helping the last of the burn victims across the street to the house, another fire has restarted. It isn’t by arsonists this time, but merely by its own volition. He rushes to the home a few blocks away and meets up with other family members, townspeople and the condo group, who is still hanging around to provide added security for a while. The sun has started to rise, a pink haze coming over the landscape that starkly contrasts against the violent orange of the flames licking the sky. They work for a long time in a bucket brigade, but their efforts prove futile. The home is engulfed, not able to be saved, but fortunately not close enough to take other houses with it. The family that lived there is devastated; everything they owned has been reduced to black rubble at the base of the brilliant flames. Cory empathizes with them. Other people come forward to offer them a place to stay until they get reestablished in another empty home. Their generosity gives him hope that someday the country will right itself.

He jogs back to the clinic, anxious for word on Paige. Simon immediately comes out to greet him and the others. His friend reports that her heart rate has increased slightly, and she seems to be restfully sleeping off the sedation she was given.

Reagan informs them, “She’s not out of the woods yet. She is still highly unstable.”

“But her pulse is a lot stronger now and with adequate rest, immobilization and hydration, she may make a full recovery eventually. It’s still a touch and go situation, but I don’t think we’ll even need another transfusion,” Doc tells them.

Cory says aloud, “Thank God.”

“Yes, you should thank Him, son,” Doc says with a smile. “She’s in His hands now anyway. We’ve done just about everything we can for her.”

“Yes, sir,” Cory agrees.

“I think you should go to the back office and catch some sleep,” Reagan tells Simon, who immediately protests.

“I’ll watch her, Simon,” Cory volunteers. “Get some sleep. I’ll trade places in a few hours.”

“Right,” Herb says. “Some of you should crash for a few hours. You’ve been up for a long time straight. This is far from over. Jay’s group is going to want to come over and discuss the situation. The sheriff and his deputies want a town hall meeting tonight.”

“We’ll take shifts,” Derek says, assigning John and Kelly to take the first down time while he and Cory stay awake and on duty. They don’t need to be told twice and head across the street to the old home where Cory knows four or five bedrooms are on the second and third floors of the stately Victorian.

Herb touches his arm as Derek and Simon work out a plan for Paige observation duties. “Cory, anyone who watches her will need to understand basic vitals and how to take them. Do you know what to do?”

“Pulse, heartbeat, that sort of thing?”

“Yes, come with me,” Herb says. “I’ll go over it with you and show you how to notate her chart.”

Upon entering her makeshift hospital room, Cory is hit with a wave of panic when he sees her lying there so still, so pale on the hospital bed. His heart sinks. Doc shows him how to watch for signs of infection and how to care for her and take her vitals.

When he leaves the room, Cory is alone with her and a sudden and acute anxiety over her care hits him. Reagan comes in a moment later to reiterate what her grandfather showed him. She reassures him that he’ll be just fine and that they are only going to go crash in the other exam rooms. And suddenly, he is alone with her again, and the noise and hustle of the clinic have come to a screeching halt. Silence is his only companion, that and a nearly dead woman.

He sits beside her quietly, just watching her breathing as her chest rises and falls slowly. He’s used to her feisty temper and spirit that matches the fire of her pale red locks. None of that is visible now. She is a tiny, thin shadow of her former self. This isn’t something he wants to become accustomed to regarding Paige. He wants her to rail at him about behaving like a Neanderthal. He’d cut off his own arm if it meant that they were guaranteed she’d awaken whole and fresh again and without any long-term side-effects of her injuries. The depth of his feelings for this woman is something that also scares him.

When he lost Emma, he promised himself he’d never care for anyone like that again. He thought he could maintain that vow of frigid temperance, but then he met Simon’s sister. Cory doesn’t think she’s changed him or made him a better person or any of that romantic bullshit that used to play out in sappy rom-coms. She just fits him. It’s as simple as that. Paige doesn’t take a lot of shit from him, and he tolerates everything from her. The payoff is simple. He gets to be around her, and when he is, that’s the true prize for him. There isn’t anything complicated about it. He just likes being around her, talking with her, and the icing on the cake is the sex.

Right now he can’t even focus on any of that. He just wants her better. If that means the sex is off the table for good, he still wants her. He knows what he feels for her is love, but he sure as hell doesn’t know if she feels the same. She pushes him away a lot, but when she actually gives in and allows herself to be with him, Cory gets the impression that she feels the same. She’s been through as much shit as he has since the country collapsed. Maybe that’s why she holds back her true feelings for him. She’s lost everyone except Simon. Her mother and father, her friends, they’re all dead. They have that much in common, so he suspects that she has that same reservation about getting involved with someone. Nobody wants to watch their loved ones die, and today, it seems to be a more prevalent issue.

The bigger insurmountable problem is Simon. He doesn’t want to betray his best friend by being involved with his sister, but Cory also can’t control the feelings he has for her. He’s tried. He tried for a long time and then again after they came back from the city. Their shared evening there only threw gasoline on the fire of his desire for her. None of this is ever going to be able to be shared with Simon so that he could understand. It would only hurt him, this level of betrayal that Cory has played upon him. Once she is on her feet again, he will have to explain his feelings for Paige to Simon, but for the time being, he’s going to keep them concealed from his friend and from the entire family. The most important thing for the present and the near future is her health and healing. It doesn’t matter to Cory. He isn’t going anywhere, and it’s not as if he has to report to work every day. He can sit by her bedside all day and night until she’s better if that’s what it takes. And if it takes a whole year, then he’s cool with that, too.

Time passes slowly, and he checks her vitals after one hour has gone by. He marks the numbers on her chart where Doc and Reagan instructed him to do so. This feeling of impotence and not being able to help her is not resting well with him, so he sits by her side again and sighs with frustration. Lifting her hand, he is surprised that she feels so cold to the touch and tries not to flinch. Perhaps the blood loss is causing her to feel so cold. He hopes that’s all it is. He pulls her top blanket a little higher. If she gets any colder, he’s going to ask one of the docs if she should have another, warmer blanket. Her slender fingers rest gently inside both of his large palms. Cory hopes he can warm her by holding onto her hand. The sheet covering her arm slides off just slightly, and the black strings on her wrist catch his eye. These always bother him. He doesn’t like knowing that she used to be so desperate, nothing more than a post-apocalyptic street urchin that she tied leather cords and cotton strings on her wrist in case she’d have a use for them. He allows his fingers to skim over the strips lightly, gently, contemplating them and their purpose. She’s never going to need these again, not while he’s still alive.

Cory rises, crosses the room and quietly rummages through drawers until he finds a pair of scissors. Then he sits beside her again and slices through the thin strips until her wrist is bare. She doesn’t even budge. He throws them in a waste can and puts the scissors back in the drawer. He takes up residence in his chair and stares at the woman he has come to love so deeply. She’s suffered so much. This doesn’t seem fair. He wishes that it had been him to take that bullet. She jumped in front of his brother to selflessly protect him. Cory owes her anything and everything he has to give. Kelly has a wife and kid now. They need him, and if he’d been killed, poor Hannie might not have recovered. She’s only just now showing improvement from losing Em and Grams. Paige did a heroic thing for them all by sparing Kelly that bullet.

He reaches up behind his neck and yanks on the leather cord holding his necklace together until it snaps under the stress. Then he carefully unwinds Em’s thin gold bracelet from the distressed leather, tosses away the cord, and wraps the delicate jewelry around Paige’s tiny wrist. It fits perfectly as if it was meant to be there all along. He works the fastener and locks it in place. This was intended to be hers. So was he.

Cory takes a knee and prays for her while holding onto her small hand. God may not like him too well, especially after what he’s done and where he disappeared to for nearly a year, but prayer and his rifle are all he’s got to give her. He also prays to his little sister and Grams in case they’ve got an in with the big guy. He needs all the help he can get. He’s not in good standing with Him. He could use a good word from Em or Grams to gain some leverage. They were both pure and good, and he’s just something else altogether. What he’s done to survive, the things he’s done to others, the pain he’s inflicted on men who were evil, he’s not sure if he can come back from that on the God scale of good versus bad.

When Emma died in his arms, he’d sworn off God, thought he’d been abandoned by Him. He knows it isn’t true; he knew it then, too. But it just felt better to blame someone other than himself for a few hours here and there in the depths of his despair over losing her. Now he needs Him more than ever, and if even Doc is saying that everyone should be praying, then lack of faith be damned, he’ll pray until his knees bleed.

A few hours later, when he’s seated again at her side, Reagan comes in to check on her.

“How’s she doing?” she asks quietly, rubs her bloodshot, sleepy eyes, and picks up the chart.

“Same,” he replies. “I thought she felt too cold a while ago, so I put another blanket on her. I was gonna ask first, but I didn’t want to wake you guys.”

He found a small, white blanket in a cupboard and laid it on her lower half. He couldn’t stand the feel of her frail, cold fingertips in his hand.

“It seemed to do the trick,” he says. “She feels warmer.”

“Good,” Reagan remarks distractedly as she reads the chart.

Cory wishes that she was a better communicator. He’s not much of a talker most of the time himself, but now he wants every intricate detail of Paige’s care that is whirling around in Reagan’s super brain to spill forth.

“That’s not too much, is it? Do you think she’s too warm?”

“No, it’s fine…”

“’Cuz I can take it back off,” he blurts quickly.

Reagan looks up and smiles. “It’s fine, Cory. If she felt cold and now she doesn’t, then you did the right thing. Besides, I was coming to check on her anyway. Her being cold is from the blood loss. She may be like that for months. Depends on how long it takes her blood to build up again. It’s a slow process.”

She pauses in her speech when she notices him holding Paige’s hand and the gold bracelet on her wrist. Reagan looks at him and then down at the bracelet again.

He shrugs and explains, “I thought…”

Cory doesn’t know how to tell her why he did it without revealing too much.

“No, it’s good,” Reagan remarks. “It’s perfect actually. Em can watch over her. It’s…good.”

He swallows the hard lump of emotion in his throat and stands, backing away from Paige before Reagan can see through him and his ill-disguised feelings for her. She just ignores him and takes Paige’s pulse. Cory stretches his back and yawns.

“What time is it?”

“Almost four,” she answers.

“What? Really?” he asks with disbelief. He’s been in the room with her almost all day.

“Yep, everyone’s starting to rouse themselves,” she explains and writes something on Paige’s chart. “Simon’ll be in here pretty soon to relieve you. We’re making him eat first.”

His mouth waters at the thought of food. He missed quite a few meals yesterday and this morning trying to be everywhere at once and helping everyone and battling and doing recon.

“Sam, Gretchen, and Sue just got here with food and provisions,” she says. “Derek’s taking them back soon. We’re trying to get Grandpa to go with him. He needs to sleep.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Herb needs rest. He’s not twenty-five anymore.”

“Hell, he’s not sixty-five anymore,” she jokes and laughs bawdily.

Cory smiles and offers a chuckle, although it seems wrong to do it when Paige is lying there unaware they are even in the room with her. He can tell that Reagan is worried, probably about a lot right now. Her grandfather, Paige, her unborn baby, John; she’s always a tiny ball of stress anyway. Cory doesn’t want her to overdo it. He really cares for Reagan like a sister. She pushes herself too damn hard.

“You should go home, too,” he says. “At least till tomorrow morning. We’ve got three four-wheelers now.”

“I heard you also claimed a motorcycle from their stash,” she remarks, pointedly ignoring his suggestion of rest.

“Yeah, K-Dog claimed the other, and we split the four-wheelers with them, too. But, hey, at least we’ve got some alternative modes of transportation now. They all use less fuel.”

“Yeah, that’s great,” Reagan admits. “Except the motorcycle. Don’t expect me to jump for joy over that shit. You’ll just wreck it and fuck yourself up, and then I’ll have to sew you back together.”

“Like Humpty Dumpty,” he says with a nod.

“I was thinking more like tweedle dumb.”

He chuffs and smiles at her. Cory can see in her that mysterious enigma, that mostly imperceptible quality in Reagan that John always saw in her in the first place, even when no one else could. This isn’t a pregnancy glow, either. Around her hardened edges, Reagan has a good soul and cares a lot about people. She works so hard for the betterment and the health of their family and the community.

“Are you going back to the farm or sticking around here?” she asks next.

“I’ll probably stay,” he says with what he hopes comes off as nonchalance. “You know, in case I’m needed.”

Reagan regards him quietly for a second before nodding knowingly. He hopes she can’t see through his ruse. He doesn’t really want anyone in the family knowing about him and Paige or getting involved, not until he can convince her to be with him. That may take some time, a lot of time.

“I’m staying, too,” she tells him. “We have too many people who are suffering from smoke inhalation and burns. I can’t just go back to the farm as if nothing’s going on.”

“What about Jay?” he inquires.

“Oh, yeah. That, too. The sheriff and his deputies are having a meeting right now with townspeople. Then they’re going to invite Jay’s group over to discuss the decision.”

“What about our opinion on the matter?”

“We’re collecting a vote from our family and delivering our result to the sheriff in an hour.”

“How do you feel about it?”

Reagan sighs before answering, “I have mixed emotions. I feel bad because they have kids, but…I don’t know.” She pauses a long time before saying, “I’m voting they leave. I don’t want them around anymore. It’s like you guys said. We don’t know who was involved. Some of them could’ve known about the thefts.”

“They might not have,” Cory argues, although he doesn’t believe this.

“But we can’t be sure. That’s the problem,” Reagan concludes.

“True,” he says. “I don’t trust them now, either. I will also vote for them to leave. I don’t know if the rest of the family will agree with us.”

“That’s up to them,” Reagan says. “It’ll be a majority vote.”

“As it should be,” Cory says.

“And if we allow them back in, the security to ensure they aren’t going to work against us again would be insane. We can’t afford to have you guys living in town providing security. It’s easier to make them leave.”

“I don’t know if some of the family will think it’s easy. Not everyone’s like us,” he says, to which Reagan nods in agreement.

“Yeah, well, then it’s a good thing we’re here to balance out the ones who can’t handle the tough decisions,” she says. “Why don’t you go get some food? I’ll stay with her now.”

“Thanks,” Cory says and leaves, but not before he glances back a few more times at Paige.

Samantha greets him with a hug before handing him a bowl with a big serving of grits smothered with sausage gravy. The food is delicious, as usual. He washes it down with icy cold milk from the pitcher they’ve brought and finishes the meal with two corn muffins. It hits the spot and is the exact type of food he needs for energy to get through the rest of his day. The waiting room is crowded with family members and close friends like Paul and K-Dog, who are also enjoying the hearty fare brought by Sue and Sam. He spies his friend in the corner eating alone. It is unlike Simon to be reclusive, so Cory joins him with his second mug of milk. What he wouldn’t give for some chocolate syrup to add to it.

“Hey, brother,” he says as he sits across the folding card table from Simon.

“How’s she doing?”

Cory offers a grim smile and says, “Not as bad. Seems like she’s warming up and her heart rate increased a little since last night, too.”

“Good,” he answers as he wolfs down his food. Cory knows his friend is anxious to get back to Paige’s room.

“You going back home today?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Simon answers, shaking his head. Something catches his eye, and he pauses. Cory follows his line of vision and smiles. It’s Samantha that has gained his friend’s attention. She is waiting on some of their friends, serving them plates of food and conversing with them. Her little spirit is lighting up the grim room.

“Sam said your horse was limping this morning when they went out to feed,” Simon informs him as she approaches their table with platters.

“Oh, shit,” Cory says.

“No worries, Cor,” Sam informs him. “I checked him out thoroughly. He didn’t even try to kill me for it, either.”

Cory chuckles and grins at her. His stallion is hardly lethal, at least not most of the time.

“I think he has a swelled fetlock,” she explains and tries to give him more food, which he waves away. “I rubbed it down with liniment and stalled him for the rest of the day. Probably just tripped in a groundhog hole or something. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, little sister,” he says and ruffles the dark hair on her small head. She hits him with those innocent blue eyes and beams at Cory with a broad smile.

“I’ll check…” she starts but is interrupted by a bunch of commotion outside.

They rise together and head out to investigate. The others are already there. Dave the Mechanic’s group has just arrived, rather noisily and are hopping down from the deuce and a half. Cory watches Simon stand protectively close to Sam. She immediately takes his hand.

“They’re bringing their new doctor resident to look at the kids who were burned in the fires,” Cory explains to Sam since she wasn’t with them last night. The man in the doctor’s scrubs jumps down from the back of the deuce, as well. He looks a lot younger than Cory would’ve expected. “He’s supposed to be a kid doctor or something. Doc wanted him…”

“Oh my… oh my gosh!” Sam yells. “Uncle Scott!”

She breaks free of them and takes off for the truck, shoving through people in the crowd. They follow closely and exchange confused looks. Sam literally jumps toward the young doctor, who barely has time to catch her.

“Samantha?” the doctor asks. “Sam, is it really you?”

She clings on and almost immediately starts crying with joy, soaking the doctor’s scrubs. He barely contains himself and is babbling so fast that Cory can’t make out much of what he’s saying.

“Sam, I can’t believe I’ve finally found you! Where have you been? Where’s the rest of the family? Are they here? Where are the twins? Where’s my sister?”

So many questions, Cory thinks. None of them have good answers.

“Did you get my note?” she asks and breaks away. “I left you a note at the house.”

“I did, but by the time I found it, the letter had gotten wet. I couldn’t read much other than that you were safe.”

“Where have you been all this time? Dad went looking for you, but you were gone already.”

He sighs and says before swiping his dark hair back from his forehead, “I had to get outta there. My apartment building was attacked, robbed. My girlfriend, do you remember her? She was killed a few days into it.”

Sam nods with understanding. “I’m sorry, Uncle Scott. I thought she was nice.”

“Yes, she was, Sam,” he says. “Where have you been, sweetheart?”

“I live on a farm not far from here. It’s safe. I have a lot of new family there.”

He asks again, “New family? Where’s our family? Where is everyone?”

“They’re gone, Uncle Scott,” she tells him, shaking her head near to tears again over the loss of her family this time.

“Why don’t the two of you go inside to Doc’s office and catch up,” Cory offers.

“Uncle Scott,” she says and turns to them, “this is my friend Cory, and this is Simon.”

She proceeds to introduce the young doctor to the whole family and even a few of their friends. He seems overwhelmed, and she takes Cory’s advice and leads him away. Cory notices that she is holding onto his arm, clinging would be a more apt description.

“That’s cool,” Cory remarks to Simon, who is standing there as stunned as the rest of them.

“Huh?” he asks distractedly. “Oh, yeah. Cool.”

“Everything ok, bro?” Cory asks with concern. He would’ve thought Simon would be happier for Sam.

“Yeah, fine,” he answers. “I’m going in to check on my sister.”

Cory would like to follow him, but he knows he can’t. Simon is highly intelligent. He’ll eventually see the feelings for Paige that Cory is working hard to conceal. He’s not sure how long he’s going to be able to do so. The feelings he thought he’d never feel for anything or anyone again have taken root inside of him for Paige. He’s not going to be able to stay away from her, not now, especially not now that she is going to need him more than she knows. He’s a patient man, can wait in a tree stand or a long time in the bush for the right prey to come by. He has the rest of his life to convince her that she’s also in love with him. He’ll back off and give her time to recover. Then it’s on.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Sam

It’s been almost two weeks since Paige was shot by that Mike jerk, who Simon confessed to her that he killed. He hadn’t wanted to tell her, but she’d pried it out of him. They were finally able to transport his sister to the farm last night. She is weak but complaining about wanting to get up and move around on her own. Grandpa keeps joking that her stubborn streak and Scottish red hair is what kept her alive. She just grins and agrees. They’d kept her sedated for nearly forty-eight hours so that she wouldn’t have to endure the pain of her injuries. She is feeling that pain more every day as the medicines wear off. She’s also refusing to take the homeopathic pain blockers that Grandpa and Simon have concocted for her because she wants the burn victims in town to have them.

“Pass me that bowl of sliced cabbage, Sam,” Sue instructs as they work in the kitchen.

Hannah has a big meal of venison hash planned. Dave the Mechanic is coming over in a few hours with some of his friends for dinner and to observe their operations on the farm. She went a few days ago with John, Kelly, and Simon to visit their farm in Hendersonville. It was similar to their own homestead but was more heavily fortified because it is not as hidden away in a valley like the McClane farm. Gunny, or Henry as she now knows is his real name, showed them around his family’s farm, one that he inherited when they all went there to bug out after the country fell. His family was dead, which left the farm to him. At first, Sam had been leery of him, but his behavior and good manners let her know that he wasn’t a threat. Simon hadn’t seemed to like him, though, and he’d let her know of his negative opinion of Henry. Sam had just laughed at him.

“Can you take those rolls out of the oven, Sam?” Hannah asks as she stirs the onions and garlic in the huge, cast iron skillet.

“Sure thing,” she says and crosses the kitchen to remove the pans of hot rolls. The kitchen smells fantastic with the fragrance of yeast and dough and simmering onions. Earlier, they made zucchini bread from the last of the fall vegetable garden. They removed the cloth canvases from the final row of squashes and cabbages and transplanted what was left to the greenhouse. She’d been in charge of crushing walnuts with the metal mallet for the sweet bread while Sue and G shredded the zucchini. She loves the rich, comforting flavors of Hannah’s zucchini bread slathered with butter and warm straight from the oven. They’d all had a small sample. G told them that she’d never eaten zucchini bread before and had been surprised at how wonderful it tasted. Sam couldn’t agree more, but pretty much anything that Hannah and Sue make is wonderful.

“Everything sure smells yummy in here,” Paige observes from the doorway.

“You should be resting,” Sue admonishes

“I just need to use the restroom,” she tells them.

She is being helped by Cory into the kitchen where she pauses before using the bathroom in the hall. When she emerges, Cory is right there waiting for her.

“I’m sick of lying down,” she complains.

“You need to take it easy,” Cory reminds her. “Remember what Doc said about rest? Your body needs to recoup and rest.”

Hannah jumps in to give her opinion, “Right, Paige. Don’t overdo it.”

“I’m not,” she says.

Sam frowns because her friend is still so weak and pale. She walks slightly bent over because she said it just feels better to not straighten as it hurts her side too much. Reagan told her it was acceptable to walk however she wants as long as she doesn’t push too hard. The first time she ate solid food, which was nearly four days after her shooting, she threw up. The doctors, Simon included, were very worried. Her second meal she kept down and every one since. Grandpa used the ultrasound machine in the shed to check her liver for signs of lesions or further injury but thankfully came up with nothing. Simon has been researching and studying everything he can get his hands on regarding his sister’s injuries. He’s been busy day and night in the shed, in Doc’s office, and compounding meds in the greenhouse. Sam doesn’t think he’s slept all that much in the last two weeks. Neither has Cory. Simon is in town with Grandpa tending the citizens who were burned from the town fires. Two of them passed away from their burns and smoke inhalation. There are still nearly a dozen people who were seriously injured that night. Every time the family goes to town, she crosses her fingers until they return home. Their little safe haven of a village doesn’t feel so safe anymore. People infiltrated it. They ruined it.

A vote was taken, meetings were conducted- numerous ones- and a final decision was made. Grandpa and Derek decided that the McClane family should allow the townspeople to weigh in more heavily than their family. They didn’t want their bias opinions against Jay and his group to negatively affect the outcome of the vote. They each cast one vote and left it at that. In the end, it was decided, although not unanimously, that his people should leave. There were two single moms with children who were allowed back into the city limits of Pleasant View. Everyone else was forced to leave, including Sheriff Jay and his family. Sam felt bad about it, but she also understood why they decided something so harshly. They’d never be able to trust any of them again. They’d let wolves into their town and could do so again. Cory said that he figured some of them weren’t as innocent as they let on about Mike’s plans. He said it was imperative that they leave and never return. He also told her that if the town hadn’t forced Jay and his followers out that the family was talking about not going to town anymore because the risk would’ve become too great. That had made her sad to hear. She doesn’t want the townspeople to be denied medical care and their hospitality, especially the older people and the little kids. It doesn’t matter because Jay’s people are gone now, cast out into the cold of winter. Cory also told her that they didn’t seem that surprised and none of them put up a fight against leaving. They said they were traveling farther south where the weather would be even warmer. Sam hopes they make it.

Cory slips his arm behind Paige’s back and supports her the whole way back to the music room instead of permitting her to stand any longer. Sam can hear her protesting because they brought a medical walker home from the clinic for her to use, but nobody usually allows her to use it. Everyone just wants to help her. She took a bullet for Kelly. The family owes her so much, and they all know it.

“They seem to be getting along a lot better,” Sue observes as she chops lettuce from the greenhouse.

“Mm-hm,” Hannah murmurs with a grin.

“Better than listening to them flinging insults,” Sue remarks.

“Sure,” Hannah says lightly and goes about her own chores.

Sam has seen Cory looking at Paige. She just wonders if there is actual deference in his stare, or if he just feels bad because she took a bullet for his brother.

“Can you check on her in a little bit?” Cory says when he returns to the kitchen a few minutes later. “I’m leaving her with Huntley ‘cuz I gotta run out and help Kelly chop firewood for a couple hours before Dave’s group gets here.”

“We got this,” Sam assures him.

“Yeah, I think the four of us can handle taking care of one, invalid girl,” G says, giving Cory a hard time.

“Right, beat it,” Sue joins in.

“Geesh!” he says loudly. “I know when I’m not wanted.”

He chuckles and leaves out the back door. Her Uncle Scott came to visit a few days ago and is staying with them until tomorrow morning when he must return to Hendersonville. He wants her to go with him, but that just can’t happen. It’s been a blessing having him in her life again. Sam also can’t believe he’s still alive. He felt very much the same at discovering her surprise existence. They have stayed up every night just talking and learning everything they can about each other again. So much has changed, but he is still her beloved uncle. When she looks at him, Sam can see so much of her mother in her Uncle Scott. Hearing of his sister’s death had devastated him. He’d been holding out hope that she was still alive somewhere, that they all were. He shared some of the details of what he’s been doing and how he’s been surviving, but Sam can tell that her uncle is holding a lot back. She also hasn’t told him about the cruelties she suffered at the hands of Bobby or how she actually came to be at the farm. She suspects he might have an inkling, but so far he hasn’t brought it up. She doesn’t particularly want to delve into it yet, maybe never. It doesn’t matter to her anyway. That part of her life is over, and she’s moved on. If she ever decides to tell him, she knows her uncle will understand and be there for her. Plus, she gets the impression he has a few secrets of his own. She can see it in his blue eyes that something or someone is haunting him. She almost wishes he was home, but he also went with Grandpa to town to treat their patients.

“This is all set,” she says, passing the bowl of chopped onions to Hannah.

“Thanks, Sam,” Hannah returns. “This is all we needed. If you want to take off, you can.”

“Thanks,” she replies, kisses Hannie on the cheek and leaves. She checks on Paige, who is fast asleep on the sofa in the music room. Her friend looks so pretty bathed in the deep afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows. Sam glances over at Huntley who just shrugs.

“Guess I was boring her,” he says with an shy grin.

His long hair is hanging on either side of his face in two, simple black braids. Sam wants to sketch him like this, but she can rarely get Huntley to sit still long enough.

“Wanna’ go for a ride?” she asks.

“Yeah, sure,” he says and half rises out of his seat. “Oh, wait. Cory told me to stay with her till he gets back. I’d better stick around here.”

“Ok, I’m sure she’d be fine. She’s out like a log. If you change your mind, I’ll be in the barn.”

She grabs a gray, thick wool sweater, her jacket and boots from the laundry room and heads to the horse barn. First, she checks on Cory’s horse, which is improving nicely. Initially, she’d been afraid of a bowed tendon, but his injury is much less drastic. He’ll be out covering mares in no time. Sam offers him a carrot from the hothouse, for which he is very appreciative and shows it by rubbing his head on her jacket and sharing his dirt. She just chuckles at him. Then she brushes down two mares who have recently given birth. She also grooms their babies, who are slightly less excited about being handled. However, Sam knows enough about horses to understand that the foundation work she does with them now will pay off ten-fold later on when the family actually wants to ride one of them.

“I figured you’d be out here,” Simon says from the doorway, startling her.

“You’re back!” Sam exclaims and rushes to him, hugging Simon around the waist. He simply pulls her arms back around and steps back. “I was worried.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he says. “Just a typical clinic day. Sick kids. Injured people. The usual.”

“I think anytime anyone on the farm has to leave it, then that makes the situation very much not just ‘the usual.’ It’s dangerous.”

“We’re fine,” he says nonchalantly with a shrug. “Your uncle is in the med shed with Doc. They’ve been working on the smallpox situation. He knew about the outbreak and is also worried that it’s coming this way.”

“That’s not good,” Sam says with a frown as she locks the mare’s stall door. She crosses the barn to the ladder and climbs to the hay loft. Simon follows quietly. She walks to the open space above Cory’s horse’s stall and drops down a few flakes of hay to keep him busy.

“Everything go all right around here?” he asks.

“Sure,” Sam answers. “Everyone’s excited about Dave’s group coming tonight.”

“Hm,” he says glumly.

“What’s wrong? I thought you liked him.”

“He’s cool,” Simon admits, kicking the toe of his work boot around in the hay debris. “I’m just not sure about some of his men.”

“Don’t be silly,” Sam admonishes. “They’re all trustworthy, or Dave wouldn’t have them in his town with him. Heck, most of them are from his old unit.”

“Maybe,” he remarks in a peevish tone. “I’m just glad they live far enough away that they aren’t going to be a problem.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter to me, though,” she explains patiently and takes a seat on a bale of hay to look out the loft door to the pasture where the horses are grazing. One of them is chewing on the bark of an oak tree. She’ll have to tell John or Kelly to put some wire around it, or he’ll kill the tree from stripping its bark. “I’m still going to be traveling over there a lot to see my uncle. The guys already said I could, especially since we have the four-wheelers now. And Cory said he’d ride me over on his motorcycle when the weather gets good enough again. Plus, maybe I could ride over on one of the horses. It’s not that far.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Simon reprimands in an annoying voice of authority. “First of all, you shouldn’t be riding on Cory’s bike. It’s not safe. I’ll have to make a point of telling him that I don’t approve of that.”

“What?” Sam asks with a laugh. “You don’t speak for me, Simon Murphy. I can ride on the motorcycle if I want. It looks fun.”

He snorts as if she has personally offended him.

“And secondly, you aren’t going by horseback. It’s entirely too far,” he grouses.

“Blah, blah, blah. That’s what I’m hearing right now.”

“Don’t be impertinent,” he scolds as if he has the right. Sam just chuckles at him, earning a testy glare.

“He’s my uncle, my family, the only family I have left…”

“You have the McClane family now.”

“Yes, but he’s my real family,” Sam explains as patiently as she can muster. “I’m going to want to see him and often.”

He sits beside her and levels Sam with a serious look, “We’ll see.”

She just rolls her eyes. “He said he wants me to come over there to stay. Permanently.”

“What?” Simon asks angrily. “I don’t think so.”

“I told him that I love the family, that I have a connection to them, that I’m not sure I should leave. Do you think I should leave?”

“No,” he states with irritation. “That’s ridiculous. This is the safest place for you.”

“Actually, the guys said that Dave’s place is even safer, more extensively fortified.”

“So?” he asks petulantly. “That doesn’t mean you should start packing. There’s more to consider than just how well-fortified Dave’s grand palace is.”

Sam shakes her head at his displaced anger, “Simon, I didn’t tell him I would. I told him I’d think about it.”

“Not even thinking about it,” he corrects, waving his finger, which is starting to stir a certain amount of her own temper.

“Why shouldn’t I go?” she asks with naked hope in her voice. He hasn’t spoken to her of the night at her family’s house. It’s pretty much all she’s thought about, but apparently, Simon has forgotten it or is pretending that he has.

“Because you belong here,” he states with finality.

“Why?” she presses.

Simon stands and walks over toward the ladder again. “Are you coming? I’m sure that dinner is almost ready.”

“Why won’t you answer me? I mean, answer me honestly.”

He doesn’t turn to face her but says, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“What happened at my family’s home? You can’t pretend it didn’t happen at all. Why haven’t you talked to me about it?”

“We should go.”

Her patience is dwindling, “Seriously? No! I’m not going until you talk to me.”

Simon marches over to her and takes her hand, which she immediately yanks back. Sam plants her feet on the old wood floor and her hands on her hips. Then for good measure, she juts out her jaw just slightly.

He finally sighs and looks at the barn roof before saying, “There’s nothing to talk about. Alcohol can make the most rational people do stupid things. It’s a simple, proven fact.”

Sam glares at him. This seems to surprise Simon because he jerks back as if she has slapped him.

“I don’t want to hear any of your ridiculous man logic, Simon,” she spouts with rising irritation. “Just be honest with me.”

“What do you want me to say?” he asks impatiently.

“How you feel about me. There’s a start.”

Simon frowns, his blue eyes intense. “You know how I feel about you. You’re my responsibility.”

“No, I’m not. I’m an adult. Children are people’s responsibilities. Infirm people are the responsibility of someone. I’m neither. I am a woman. Stop treating me like a child.”

Simon’s gaze drops to her chest and then darts back to meet her eyes before studying the hay beside them instead.

“I’m not going to put up with this from you this time, Simon. I want an answer. I deserve one.”

“What do you want me to say, Sam?” he asks as if he is desperate and confused.

“How you feel but honestly. I don’t want you to sugar coat it if you don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about you.”

This gets his attention because his eyes meet hers again.

“You mean a lot to me,” he says. “I just want to keep you safe. No matter what I do, you always get hurt. I don’t feel like I can ever keep you safe. That’s all I want. I feel responsible for you and like I’m failing on every possible level. Is that what you want to hear?”

“No!” Sam yells, drawing his ire, enough to match her own. “You are such an idiot, Simon.”

She brushes past him, heading for the ladder when his hand snatches her upper arm.

“What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

She grinds her teeth in anger before saying, “I’m just telling you the truth, but you and the truth don’t seem to be friends!”

Simon scowls hard and says, “I’ve never been anything but honest with you…”

“Ha!” she scolds loudly. “Really? You can’t even be honest with yourself.”

“I’m just trying to protect you,” he argues.

She turns to go again but decides not to let him off the hook so easily this time. Sam swings on him, staring him down, which causes Simon to look startled again and back up a step.

“I don’t want protection from you, idiot,” she swears. Sam knows that she is losing her self-control, but she is tired of Simon and his mixed signals and his selfless friendship. She wants more. They aren’t kids anymore.

“But that’s all I have to offer,” he argues.

“Then why did you kiss me like that?”

“I told you this already. We’d drunk too much of that strong liquor. It was too much on our systems…”

Sam interrupts his stupid argument and says, “No, it wasn’t. Don’t be a moron.”

“Excuse me, young lady?” he asks, clearly offended. “I don’t think you should talk like that. Let’s discuss this when you have a cooler head.”

“No, I want an answer,” she demands. “Don’t you see, Simon? Don’t you see how I feel about you?”

His brow furrows, and he removes his stocking cap, wringing it in his hands nervously like he does with most hats. His auburn hair is sticking up in places.

“Let’s talk later,” he suggests more quietly this time.

Sam shakes her head and stands there staring at him a moment. Then she says what she’s wanted and needed to say for a long time. “I’m in love with you, Simon. Don’t you get that?”

The expression he offers at her confession is one that makes her think he just tasted sour milk.

“No, you aren’t. You’re too young to know. You’re just confused.”

She tries not to feel completely insulted but fails. “I do. I’m not too young. I know my heart. I love you. You’re my best friend,” she elucidates for him.

“You’re my best friend, too, Sam,” he says. “We can be best friends. We can always be friends, and I’ll always look after you. Just don’t confuse what we have with some great, undying love. We’re not like the other married couples on this farm. It’s not the same. You know it’s not the same.”

“I didn’t say we were,” she corrects with growing hostility. “We’re something different entirely.”

“You’re just overly emotional lately. We’ve been through a lot.”

“We have been through more than most people I know or have ever even heard of, Simon!” Sam shouts, waving her hand between them.

“Right, and I do care about you,” Simon gently offers.

“Then…”

“But I don’t feel like that about you,” Simon admits, raising his chin a notch. “We’ll always be friends, but I can’t feel anything more for you.”

“Why? I don’t understand. You kissed me like…”

“Like a monster,” he says softly. “You don’t need to be with someone like me. I’m not a good person.”

“What?” Sam asks in a broken whisper.

He shakes his head vehemently. “This will never happen between us. I promise you that much. All I want to do is protect you.”

Sam looks at the boards beneath her feet, contemplating his words, confused by his actions, and frustrated with the whole situation. This is the last damn time Simon is going to reject her.

“I have my knife for that,” she informs him, twirls on the ball of her foot and fast walks toward the ladder again.

Sam doesn’t turn around, although Simon says her name a few times. She just keeps going to the big house. She rushes upstairs, washes her tear-soaked face, takes a moment to gain some control over her emotions, and goes back down to help the women pull together dinner for their friends.

Dave and six of his men and two of their wives show up for dinner. The house is crowded. She barely hears any of the conversation around her and has traded seats to sit next to her Uncle Scott instead of by Simon. She doesn’t even look at him during the meal or afterward when the family gathers in the music room for stories and songs and laughter. She doesn’t join in on any of it.

“I have an announcement!” Sam says, standing and surprising everyone. They’d been talking about Reagan’s father and his plan to leave for the base up north next week to look for his men. Dave didn’t seem too thrilled with the scheme. He voiced his opinion very openly with the men. Sam doesn’t care about her father’s plans. They no longer matter to her.

“What is it, Miss Samantha darling?” Grandpa asks.

She can’t look at him. What she’s about to tell them may hurt their feelings.

“My Uncle Scott has asked me to move over to Dave’s camp, and I’m going to,” she says, drawing a lot of gasps and immediate argument.

“Oh, Sam,” Hannah cries. “No.”

“I want to,” she lies. “I want to live there for a while. I’ll still come to town to help my uncle when we do combined clinic days every other week like we were talking about. I’ll travel over for visits to the farm, too. We’ll still see each other.”

“Sam,” Huntley says with great melancholy. She really can’t bring herself to look at him. They’ve been through so much together, too. He’s like her little brother. She loves Huntley so much, but she can’t stay here for him. She has to get away.

“You can always come back,” Paige offers weakly from her position on a nearby sofa and tries to rise only to have Cory stay her.

“Right, kiddo,” John says and walks over to hug her. “You can go over there, check it out, stay a while and come back here if you want.”

“Thanks, John,” Sam says, smiling up at her father figure. “Thanks for everything you’ve done. I won’t forget any of it.”

He touches her cheek knowingly and offers a sad smile. Then she catches him providing Simon with a steady glare.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Paige

Christmas comes and goes, and life continues on the farm. For Paige time creeps too slowly as she recovers from her injuries. She doesn’t like being laid up, but she is glad she was shot for many reasons. She’s thankful it was her and not Kelly because she likes him so well. She’s glad he wasn’t killed because she also likes Hannah and little Mary even more and would hate to see her new friend go through something so horrible. Mostly she’s glad it was her and not Kelly because it is forcing Simon to stay behind instead of going with Reagan’s idiot, despot father up north to that Army base.

She is reclining in the sitting room and wondering what Sam is up to over in Hendersonville with her new group. She’s been gone for over a week, and the family is definitely feeling the loss of her presence. She left Paige with a folder full of drawings she’d done of Simon and even a few she’d done of her. It was like looking at snapshots of herself and her brother.

He’s been moping, grouchy, irritable and miserable to be around since Samantha announced she was leaving. Cory often calls him a ‘bear with a sore ass.’ Her brother doesn’t seem to appreciate the taunt, but Paige has to admit that it is an appropriate comparison and has told him so. She isn’t entirely sure what transpired between her brother and Sam, but Paige is quite confident that Simon is the reason for her departure. She’s also sure that he’ll never discuss the matter with her. The family even offered to help fix up the Victorian home across the street from their clinic for Scott and Sam to live, but he’d kindly declined for the simple reason of Dave’s growing community needing a full-time doctor, even if he is specialized in children’s care. Needless to say, the winter doldrums have set in, but the bleakness doesn’t have as much to do with the weather as it does with Sam’s absence.

She sets aside the book she’s been reading, care of a visit from Mrs. Browning, who wanted to check on her. She made the men promise to go on runs in the spring for more books to restock the damaged area of the library, which they have blocked off with plywood. Paige has come to like her very well. She has a quirky, proper British countenance, but she is also friendly and donated blood to her when she’d needed it most. Despite her starched collars, she is a very warm, sweet and caring person, even if she does keep a written ledger of everyone’s library late fees.

Paige stretches, feels that familiar stitch of pain in her side from doing so, and rises carefully out of her seat. She slowly wanders to the big bay window overlooking the back yard and horse pasture. Cory is out there in a paddock working with Gretchen and her brother since Sam is no longer around to head up horse training for anyone on the farm who needs it. She misses her little friend as she sits down again at the window seat with forethought of doing so gently. She can watch Cory for a while without anyone seeing her do it.

Absentmindedly running her fingers over the delicate gold bracelet on her wrist, she remembers back when she’d awakened from her dreamless, sedated slumber to find him at her side. Sam told her that he rarely left it and that the bracelet was from him. She hadn’t needed told the latter. Paige knew the moment she discovered it on her wrist that it was from Cory, the one that belonged to his deceased sister. She feels honored that he’d chosen her to give it to, but it also concerns her that he might have ulterior motives behind doing so. They aren’t married, are never going to be, and her feelings for him will never be anything more than that of a casual lover. She can’t afford to lose herself in some epic romance and then have him die, which will likely happen. She’s just not prepared to go through losing anyone else. She understands completely and empathizes with Hannah for what she went through when she lost her grandmother and Emma, which is exactly why Paige isn’t going to put herself through the loss of loved ones again. Her only genuine, deep concern can be keeping herself and her brother alive. Everything else is an added bonus, but she isn’t going to count on any of it being permanent.

She’d like to talk with Cory in private, but there hasn’t been a single moment of privacy since she was hurt. The men are running around the farm like maniacs in preparation for taking Reagan’s father to the Army base, and Sam is gone. The house has been in an upheaval, there has been a constant hovering of everyone over her because of her semi-helpless state of being, and G has been fighting and arguing tirelessly with her parents, namely her mother for wanting to go with Robert and leaving them behind and at her father for agreeing to it.

“Care for some tea and cakes?” Hannah asks from the doorway, startling Paige out of her reverie.

“Oh, sure, Hannie,” she replies and tries to rise too quickly to help and ends up hurting herself.

“Sit!” Hannah demands in a voice that they don’t often hear from her. “I’ve got this. You think this is the first time I’ve carried a tray of tea cups and saucers?”

Paige chuckles, “Probably not. I’d be surprised if you didn’t walk a tight wire in a circus before this all happened.”

Hannah laughs, floats across the room in her long, white dress as if she is a nineteenth-century apparition and says, “Now that I would like to see.”

“Not unbelievable, though,” Paige observes honestly. “I don’t think there’s much you don’t or can’t do.”

“Lately, my skills have been limited to holding our family together,” Hannah says simply and places the tray on a nearby end table.

“Yeah,” Paige agrees with a frown. She knows how much Hannah must miss Sam. She does, too. They all do. She overheard John telling Reagan out in the hallway the other day that if he didn’t love Simon so much, he’d stick a foot in his rear. They must’ve thought she was asleep dozing on the sofa, but she was just lying there with her eyes closed. John has seemed in a particularly cross mood lately. She suspects that he also theorizes that it is her brother’s fault that Sam has left them. Last night she’d tried to broach the subject only to have her brother shut down and exit the room with a pissed off expression on his face. It was a good enough answer for Paige to tell her what she needed to know.

“That doesn’t seem to be working out too well around here lately,” Hannah says.

“No kidding,” Paige agrees as she pours them both a cup of hot tea. She reaches for Hannah’s hand and presses the saucer and cup into it. She has learned so many things like this about being around someone who is blind.

“The men are leaving to go with my father, which has me feeling furious,” Hannah declares.

Paige would like to laugh because even Hannah’s angry voice sounds angelic and sweet. Her pert nose wrinkles, and it’s adorable. However, she does notice the two dark circles under Hannah’s mysterious mismatched eyes, which leads Paige to believe she hasn’t slept much lately, either. None of them has.

“I know,” Paige says with a nod. “I’m upset about it, too. I’m glad that Simon’s staying because of me, but I don’t like the idea of John and Kelly both going. Plus, Cory’s leaving us to go with them, too. It’s crazy. I’ll feel a little bit better since Derek isn’t going, but I’d rather they just let Robert go by himself. No offense, Hannah.”

“None taken,” she forgives. “I don’t want them to go, either.”

“I think it’s too late to change their minds since they’re leaving tomorrow,” Paige laments.

“I know,” Hannah says. “And I’m not sure if I entirely trust my father.”

“What do you mean, Hannah?” Paige asks as Hannah’s daughter runs into the room squealing and being chased by Arianna, who dotes on the toddler. They refrain from further conversation about the men leaving and keep their comments light and worry free in front of the children. There’s no sense in upsetting them.

Later the family has dinner together, and the mood is morose and somber. Reagan is angry with John for agreeing to take her father to the base. She is downright sulking and not speaking with him. Hannah’s mood has darkened just since their afternoon tea. She looks like she is slipping back into depression. And Paige isn’t sure how to feel at all. She’s worried about the men leaving, and she’s even more worried that her concern is even deeper for Cory. This scares the hell out of her, and she feels a tidal wave of dread rise within her as she thinks about him leaving in the morning. She can barely concentrate on the conversation around her.

“You should eat more, Red,” Cory says from across the table as the others talk and plan their trip. Reagan is yelling.

She shoots Cory a frown and says, “I’m not all that hungry.”

“You need to gain back some of the weight you lost,” he remarks. “Unless you want me to start calling you beanpole again.”

Paige offers a crooked grin and nods. She takes a bite of her venison to appease him, but it just tastes like dirt in her mouth. It has been expertly prepared, seasoned and cooked, but the flavor is making her half sick. She tries to tell herself that she just doesn’t like meat and maybe it’s her body wanting to be a vegetarian again. The truth of the matter is harder to swallow than the deer meat.

He smiles back at her and says, “I’ll see if I can’t convince the guys to stop and raid a library for some books on the way back. We can…”

“No,” Paige interrupts. “Just come back quickly. Don’t dally.”

“Gonna miss me, Red?” he teases.

“Hey,” Simon butts in beside her. “Knock it off.”

Cory just chuckles at her brother and returns to his meal. He steals a glance her way a moment later and winks. Paige can feel a blush creeping onto her cheeks and has to look away.

Suddenly, Reagan slams down her fork and leaves the room. John follows after her calling, “Babe! Come on! Don’t be like this.”

“This is going better than I expected,” Derek remarks with humor, causing some of them to chuckle.

“I don’t blame her, Derek,” Sue reprimands her husband. “I’d be mad if you were one of the men going. It’s not safe, and I don’t think it’s particularly smart. You don’t know what they’re going to be walking into.”

“Sweetheart,” he starts. “It’s just to see the base camp that your father has his men establishing. It’s safe.”

She glares at him and also leaves the room.

“That’s my cue,” he states impishly and follows her.

“Don’t worry,” Kelly tells his own wife and takes her hand in his on the table.

Hannah tries to give him a smile but mostly fails. Paige knows that not worrying is not going to be an option for her. They are going so far, too far.

The meal concludes, and everyone goes about their evening in a state of stress and nerves. Her brother insists on giving her a full workup that even includes checking her vitals. She waits patiently for him to finish.

Hannah comes into the room carrying baby Daniel and asks, “Paige, could you watch him for a while? I need to speak with Kelly. Alone.”

She smiles and answers, “Absolutely.”

Hannah transfers the tiny baby to her open arms, and Paige snuggles him close. She understands that Hannah wants to speak with her husband alone without the children in the room, and she also knows why. She is distraught about this trip they are taking. Paige doesn’t want them to go, either, but one of the main reasons they were so anxious to do so was to hunt for more formula for Daniel. He is down to his last two cans. It doesn’t last long, and Herb said that since he is so underweight and a preemie that he’ll need to be supplemented longer and won’t be able to be given goat’s milk for quite some time. She is freaking out about their trip, but mostly because she’s worried that they won’t find more formula and this adorable baby will die.

“Do you miss Sam yet?” she asks, knowing full well what Simon’s answer is going to be.

“Your heart rate and blood pressure are still below normal,” he evades as she knew he would.

“Doc said it could take months to feel totally back to normal.”

“You aren’t overdoing it, are you?”

“I’m going from the bed to the sofa in the music room. I’d hardly say that’s overdoing it. Tomorrow, I might try walking out to the barn if it doesn’t hurt too much.”

“Maybe the rose garden,” he suggests. “That’s a little closer.”

To appease him, Paige just nods and bobs Daniel up and down to calm him since he seemed like he was ready to start screaming at her. She knows nothing about kids, never had little nephews or nieces out in Arizona. The only things she knows is from what she and Talia had to learn to take care of Maddie when she was little. Maddie was never this small, though. She was almost a year old when they took custody of her. He’s precious, but the kid has some lungs on him. Reagan said it was fortunate that he only had to be in the incubator for a week. Paige can attest to the strength of his lungs. He may be a preemie, but his bellow says otherwise.

“Have you talked with her since she left, Simon?”

“No,” he answers noncommittally.

“I guess we’ll get to see her next week at clinic day in town,” Paige reminds him.

“Sure,” he says and leaves the room without discussing the matter with her further.

The children come and go, mostly because their parents are forcing them to get cleaned up and ready for bed. Paige would like to get a shower, but since she just sat around all day doing nothing, she doesn’t want to use up the water. Kelly comes in a short time later and takes Daniel off her hands. He looks sullen and distressed from his talk with Hannah, and Paige bids him a good-night but refrains from talking with him.

The house is in full swing with parents corralling children, adults having meetings and teens buzzing around finishing last minute chores. She’d like to do any one of those things, but instead, picks up a book and fumes about her weakened condition. Eventually, the old house quiets down considerably, which means children are in their beds.

“Ready to go up, Red?” Cory asks from the doorway, startling her from her book.

“I can get upstairs by myself, Cory,” she scolds.

He crosses the room with a broad smile and gently lifts her into his arms as if she weighs ten pounds.

“I insist,” he says as he carries her from the room. “Besides, the docs said someone should walk with you up and down the stairs for a while in case you get dizzy. Don’t want you to fall.”

“I’m not going to fall,” she insists. “And this isn’t walking beside me. This is you or Simon or Kelly carrying me. I feel like a baby.”

“Just think of us as your own personal elevator,” he jests and squeezes the underside of her thigh with his hand.

It only takes him a few moments to carry her to the second floor where her bedroom is located at the end of the hall. She sleeps there alone now since Sam is gone. It feels very lonely without her friend. G is at the other end of the hall, but she mostly hangs out with her brother.

Cory places her tenderly on her feet at her door, and she turns and goes inside her room, leaving the door open. Cory follows her, but only steps inside the room by a few feet. Paige picks pajamas from her bureau and lays them on the blue, hand-stitched quilt on the bed.

“Gonna miss me?” he asks quietly.

“I wish you guys didn’t have to go,” she admits and turns back to face him.

“We’ll be back in a few days.”

“I think it’s stupid,” Paige tells him honestly. "A fool's errand."

He just smiles and shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe it is. I’m just going to help on the security detail. I didn’t want my brother and John walking into some shit without me.”

“And just traveling there could be dangerous,” she points out.

Cory grins, “Nah, we’re all good. I’m not worried about the trip. We’ll come back in one piece.”

She twirls the pull strings of her hoodie and avoids looking at him. Paige doesn’t want Cory to see how worried she is about him.

“I don’t care if you’re confident. I don’t think you guys should follow her father on some mission for world domination. This just doesn’t make sense.”

“I guess my curiosity got the best of me,” Cory confesses. “I think that’s why John and Kel wanna’ go, too. We want to see if what he’s been telling us is true. There’s too much to leave to chance.”

“Who cares?” Paige argues with impatience. “There isn’t anything to be in charge of anymore anyway! So her dad is gonna run the eastern part of the country. Big deal. There’s nothing to run. Most people are worried about where to get food and clean water or shelter for the night.”

“Some day it won’t be like this, though,” he says, stepping toward her.

Paige scoffs and rebuts with, “I completely disagree. I know you guys think maybe the country will get back on its feet soon, but I don’t. I’ve been all up and down the east coast, Cory. There’s nothing left. You traveled north. There’s nothing up there, either. We can’t just keep saying that things are just going to magically fix themselves…”

“But, for us, we can’t just sit by while some dude from Colorado makes his move. We could be in trouble if someone like him takes over. We could face socialism in this country. He could take our land or our food supplies and who knows what else if he has an army of men big enough to do it.”

She sighs with frustration. She’s not about to admit he’s right because she doesn’t believe it entirely. Paige jumps when his fingers brush softly against the bracelet on her wrist.

“Hey,” she whispers. “I want to give this back.”

She attempts to work the clasp, but Cory stays her hand with one of his own. Then he shakes his head.

“No, keep it,” he says. “I want you to have it. You should have it. If anyone on the farm should have this, it’s you. You’re one of the family now. She… she would’ve liked you, too. She would’ve wanted you to have it.”

Paige swallows the hard lump of emotion in her throat and doesn’t say anything more but nods instead. She can barely bring herself to look at him. The sadness she sees in Cory’s eyes breaks her heart. She knows how much he loved his little sister and how the burden of her death rides on his wide shoulders. She rests her hand against the side of his stubbly cheek.

“Thank you, Cory,” she says with reverence. His hand comes up to rest against hers still pressed to his cheek.

“Take care of yourself while I’m gone,” he orders firmly.

She nods and says, “I will. Just… be careful.”

He offers a salute, holds her hand and tugs her gently forward where he rests his forehead against hers.

“You got it, Red,” he says lightly, presses a kiss to her cheek and leaves her room a second later.

Paige sighs long and loudly. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. The beating of her heart has increased, and this time, it isn’t from the blood loss and weakness. She touches the side of her cheek where he’d kissed her. Paige feels as if she’s been branded by him there. As long as he doesn’t brand her anywhere else, anywhere more vulnerable like her stone-encased heart, then she’ll be doing just fine.

She changes into her bed clothes, crawls into her warm bed, thankful for the roof over her head tonight since it’s cold outside, and pulls the worn covers to her chin. Reagan comes in a few minutes later, like she always does before retiring, to check on her. Her friend looks like she’s been crying. Her green eyes are red-rimmed, and her nose matches.

“Everything ok?” she asks when Reagan finishes taking her pulse.

“Sure. Great,” she answers with sarcasm.

“I wish they wouldn’t go, too,” Paige confesses.

Reagan shakes her head, sending blonde curls tossing about her shoulders, “I don’t trust him.”

“Who? Your father?”

Her friend nods.

“You don’t think he’s leading them into some kind of trap, do you?” Paige asks.

Reagan shakes her head again, “No, I don’t think he’d do that. I just don’t trust his motives behind all of this. I don’t believe the benefit of this trip outweighs the risk. It’s irrational. If the acting President is up there or cuts them off while they’re traveling there, then they could be taken or worse.”

“Your dad said that he was still in Colorado,” Paige tells her.

“Yes, but he could be sending men to head off my dad so he can’t get to his own men.”

This causes Paige to bite her lower lip with a renewed sense of worry.

“This is all just bullshit,” Reagan swears. “Nothing ever good comes of Robert being around. It was like this when I was a kid, too.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Paige sympathizes. “We could just be speculating, though. He may be telling the truth and is just trying to do the right thing.”

“Don’t get all optimistic on me like Sam,” Reagan warns. “This guy is nothing but trouble. Trust me. And he’s never going to give up power to Derek or anyone else. He’s always been an untrustworthy liar.”

“Sorry,” Paige apologizes. “I don’t want them to go, either. The country’s such a mess, I can’t imagine two men fighting over it.”

“It doesn’t really surprise me,” Reagan says. “Get some rest. That’s the best thing you can do right now to get better. Just let your body heal on its own. Still getting dizzy?”

“Not as much,” Paige answers, ignoring the fact that Reagan changed the subject like she always does when she’s discussing something she doesn’t want to deal with.

“That’ll get better as your blood builds back up. You were really low, almost a five. We’d like you back up to at least a twelve.”

“Ok,” Paige answers, although she has no idea what any of those numbers mean.

“Eggs, red meat, especially liver, greens, anything with high iron levels is good right now. You’re depleted badly. We don’t have supplements, but I told the guys if they raid anywhere on the way home to pick up iron supplements if they find any.”

“Got it,” Paige confirms. “You need to watch your diet right now, too.”

She groans and says, “Don’t remind me. This kid is starting to remind me every day that he’s in there.”

“Has the baby kicked?”

“No, not yet. That won’t happen this early on, but the nausea hasn’t let up. All I want to do is puke, and here I have to force myself to eat. It’s so ridiculous.”

“It’s a miracle,” Paige says softly.

“Doesn’t feel like one,” she returns and releases Paige’s wrist.

Paige shakes her head and asks, “Aren’t you at all happy about the baby?”

Reagan sighs and explains, “It’s not that I’m not happy. Maybe I’d be happy if it was under different circumstances, but it’s not. Nothing about this life we are leading now falls under normal circumstances. Life is fragile now. Nothing is for certain.”

“Nothing was certain before, either,” Paige points out.

Reagan nods and says, “True enough. But before, in my former life, I would’ve waited a lot longer, maybe never had kids at all. I only wanted to be a doctor. I didn’t think I’d ever want kids. Now I’m married to super dad who thinks it’s so great and probably can’t wait to knock me up again.”

Paige chuckles and nods. “Yes, I think John is over the moon about it. You’re very lucky. He’s such a good man, Reagan.”

“So is Cory,” her friend throws at her, startling Paige to her core.

“Um… yeah, Cory isn’t as bad as I first thought.”

“And?” Reagan pries.

She just screws up her features and offers a look that she hopes comes off as confused and annoyed.

“Are you two…?

Paige lies; she hopes well, “No! No way. He’s a good man, but not for me. I don’t want to be involved with anyone like that, not now, not ever. If you’re worried about bringing a baby into this world, I’m also afraid of losing any more people that I care about. It gets old.”

“You do have some shitty, bad luck,” Reagan observes with a crooked grin.

“Right,” she agrees with her friend. She doesn’t need to be reminded of her horrible luck. Being shot has been a great reminder.

“He seems awfully interested in you lately,” Reagan reminds her.

“Oh, that,” Paige says and looks at her feet. “He’s just feeling guilty because I jumped in front of his brother. That’s all.”

“That’s all, huh?” Reagan asks with a dubious expression.

“Yep,” Paige answers. “Well, I’d better get some of that rest you suggested.”

“Uh huh,” Reagan answers disbelievingly and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

Before she even gets back into bed, a knock at her door gains her attention again. This time, it’s only Gretchen.

“Hi,” the young girl says.

“What’s up?” Paige asks and sits on her bed because she is slightly dizzy and overly tired. She suspects it is stress and not blood loss and injury that has left her feeling so exhausted tonight.

“Just freaking out a little,” the girl answers, running her hand through her short, cropped hair.

“’Cuz your parents are leaving tomorrow with the guys?” Paige guesses.

“”Cuz my mom is leaving tomorrow. Yes.”

Paige smiles sympathetically and nods. “Yeah, that’s tough. She’ll be fine, though. Don’t worry. The guys go on runs all the time. They won’t let anything happen to them.”

“I wish he hadn’t convinced them. I worried that he was going to. He can be very persuasive.”

Paige doesn’t even ask to whom she is referring.

“Yes, he does seem to have a way with words.”

“You have no idea,” G says with an irritated smirk. “I can’t believe my mom’s going with them. Luke wanted to go, too, but I talked him out of it. What the hell, right? I was so pissed that he was gonna leave me here alone!”

“Don’t worry. You wouldn’t be alone,” Paige reminds her with a laugh. G grins.

“Yeah, that’s true. But it’s bad enough that my parents are content to ditch me on you guys. I didn’t want Luke doing the same thing.”

“He seems pretty loyal to you. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

She shrugs and says, “He is. He looks out for me. I do the same for him. A lot of time growing up, we only had each other.”

“Not your mom?”

“She was always chasing after Dad,” she confesses, confusing Paige.

“Oh, that’s… well, that’s good that you’re close with Lucas.”

G nods again and says, “I’m still pissed at her for leaving with him, though. Same old, same old with that bullshit.”

“She’ll be back soon,” Paige says, trying to comfort the young girl with the nose ring and dark nail polish.

“Not if he doesn’t come back.”

“What do you mean?”

She looks toward the door, pauses and says quickly, “I’d better go to bed.”

“What did you mean?” Paige presses.

G shrugs and says, “Nothin’.”

Then she leaves, which makes Paige very frustrated because she doesn’t understand Gretchen’s cryptic comment. She knows that the young girl is hiding something, and Paige would like to understand the meaning behind her words. For some reason, G was hesitant to answer. She acted like she was afraid to tell Paige whatever it was that she knew. This leaves her feeling uneasy. Tomorrow she’ll question her further on the topic when they have more time.

Paige shuts off her low wattage bedside lamp and tucks in for the night. There is so much whirling through her mind that sleep is elusive. She knows the men are downstairs in the dining room going over last minute plans and finalizing their itinerary for their trip. This does nothing to quiet her thoughts and bring the Sandman around.

She wonders where Sam is tonight and how she is feeling, if she misses them, and whether she thinks she made the right decision by leaving the family. She’s not sure she could’ve done the same. Paige desperately wants her stay with the McClane family to be permanent, but if there’s one thing she’s learned about the state of the world now, it’s that nothing is permanent. No place is completely safe and secure, and the bad people will always come. Her last thought before finally succumbing to sleep is whether or not Reagan’s father also fits into that category.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Epilogue

The men leave at dawn, the family waving and hugging and kissing their warriors goodbye through tears of sadness and anger. The anger is mostly coming from Reagan. The sadness is permeating from the rest of them.

He is not happy about this decision for them to leave the farm, but Herb knows that they must find out what is going on out there, especially when this new President is involved. He’s lived a long life, seen a lot, experienced even more. If what his son is saying turns out to be true, then they must stop this man in Colorado from destroying what is left of their beloved country. He is too old to fight in a war, probably never had the countenance for it to begin with, but he isn’t about to allow their part of the country to be overrun, nor his farm and family. Keeping them safe and thriving, no matter the cost, is the only thing that matters to him.

Doubting his own son is not sitting well on his conscience, either. Maryanne would be so much better at reading Robert if she was still with them. She always was more astute when it came to understanding their only son. Although she wouldn’t have approved of him returning to the farm with this secret family, Mary would’ve seen right through all of his plans, if he had anything to hide. Her keen sense of character judgment was one of the reasons he loved her so dearly. But alas, his wife is gone, and it is his sole responsibility to look after their family and ultimately decide what is best for them. Sometimes he’d like to turn over the reins to Kelly and Hannah a few years early and just retire.

He’s not sure what Robert has in store for them, but Herb figures they are a long way off from putting this government coup behind them, if they even can move on. He doesn’t want his family or the soldiers put in harm’s way. All he can do is hope that his son is doing the right thing and has come to the farm to offer assistance. He has talked quite a few times in private with his son and believes his motives to be honest and genuine, but Herb also has some reservations about the situation. But if he’s learned one thing about politics, it’s that all sides involved have their own agendas. He can only pray that his son’s is to restore the Republic on which their country was founded. The men have assured and reassured them many times that they’ll return safely and that they aren’t in any real danger. Herb knows it is mostly bravado on their part, and also slight exaggerations to allay the fears of their wives. Losing any member of their group would be a fracture in their hearts. It has already been devastating enough losing Samantha. Although she is still alive and only living twenty miles away, her loss is felt every day, by some more than others.

Each and every one of them, especially the little kids, have been mourning her absence from the family and missing her greatly. She was a tiny bit of light and sunshine around the farm every day. Herb knows how traumatized she has been because of the horrific things that have happened to her, but Samantha was making strides every day. She was finally learning to let go of her past, learn from it, and move on with her young life. He was relieved for it, too. She has so much life still to live, and she’s such a special girl. Her whole life was ahead of her. He’d just hoped it was going to be on his farm. However, he understands her desire to live with her uncle, although he would’ve preferred it if they’d just stayed in Pleasant View. As a doctor, he sympathizes with the draw that her uncle feels toward Sergeant Winters’s camp. They didn’t have a doctor over there, and they’d also helped Scott when he’d needed it most. He feels a certain amount of obligation to them, one that Herb understands perfectly. They both took an oath to become doctors, and he cannot turn his back on people who will undoubtedly need his help. When he’d come to work in their town that first week, he’d also made the trip out to the farm after and had been very helpful with Daniel’s care and offered quite a bit of professional advice on the baby’s health and future needs.

Herb suspects that Samantha didn’t just leave the farm because she wants to live with her uncle in Hendersonville. It was clear to him, mostly because his Maryanne tipped him off to it, that Samantha has feelings for Simon. He has observed his young protégé whenever Samantha was near him, and Herb always assumed that Simon felt the same way about her. Apparently, he was very wrong about that or else Simon wouldn’t have wanted her to leave. Perhaps there are more underlying issues between the two young people. He has no idea because he’s not as observant as his Mary used to be about such matters of the heart. All he can do is encourage Simon to confront his own feelings about Samantha. The other option is to stay out of it, which is probably the option he’s going to take. If Mary were still alive, she’d know what to do. She always did.

These young people are hard to understand sometimes. He’s thankful that he’s not in charge of them. However, his son has left him in charge of his two children until he returns. Herb just wonders when that might be. Robert had sat down with him a few weeks ago and asked him to take care of and look after Lucas and Gretchen until he can return. The part of their conversation that had alarmed Herb was the when Robert had used the phrase, “until I can someday return for them.” When he’d questioned his son’s use of the word ‘someday,’ Robert hadn’t wanted to answer him. Then he’d confessed that he wasn’t planning on coming right back with the men. He’d also expressed his desire that they’d stay up there on that base with him and his men for a while. Herb had argued vehemently against it. He sure as hell can’t afford to have three of their most valued soldiers gone for an extended period of indeterminate time. He had become angry. They’d argued extensively. And by the time their heated discussion had come to an end, Herb had forgotten to bring up the fact that Robert was once again planning on dumping his children on him. It bothers him more than he cares to examine that his son so easily leaves his children behind on the farm without so much as a backward glance. And he’s taking his wife with him. She hadn’t protested, either. Robert had confessed this part of his plan just two days ago. He told him that she usually goes with him on political trips and has a special talent with keeping people calm. Herb wonders at this. Lucille doesn’t seem to speak much, so he can’t believe she’d be a great orator for the masses. He figures his son just wants her around for his own reasons. So, now he is in charge of more grandchildren, both of whom he barely knows. Lucas isn’t a problem because he is an adult. But Gretchen has not found her place in the family yet, and he can tell that she is very out of sorts. He has also heard her arguing vehemently with her mother for the last few days about leaving her with them. Herb can’t blame her. He wouldn’t have wanted to be ditched on people he didn’t know at that age. Plus, she’s old enough to realize how dangerous this mission could be, especially if they walk into a trap. His son and his wife could be killed, and their children could be orphaned. Herb prays that doesn’t happen.

“Working on something, darling?” he asks Reagan, who he finds in his office in the house a while later after the men have gone. His granddaughter is rummaging his drawers.

“I’m looking for that map you had of Kentucky,” she explains as she frantically digs.

“Hm, maps,” he says pensively. “I think they’re in the antique bureau over here.”

He wanders over to the piece of furniture that was passed down from his grandparents and opens the slanted door. His filing system has suffered since his wife passed. After doing his own amount of searching, he locates a pile of maps tied together with rubber bands. Reagan snatches them from his hands as if she is on a mission.

“What are you looking for, honey?” he asks his granddaughter with the dark circles under her eyes.

“I want to map out the route that John told us he’s taking with my father,” she explains and spreads the map out on his desk. “I need to know where they are, so if they need our help, I’ll know how to get to him.”

“You can’t go rescue them, honey,” he says gently, lays a hand on her shoulder only to have it shirked.

“Of course I will,” she says. “Who else would go? You? Paige? I’d have to take Simon, Derek, and Huntley to retrieve them.”

“John said that he’d radio in their position every few hours,” he says, trying to make her feel better. “Don’t worry so much. It’s not good for the baby.”

She frowns without looking at him and uses and ink pen to draw their route on the map instead. Herb knows he won’t convince her to slow down and allow the situation to work itself out on its own. She’s too bull-headed for something so logical.

“Have you given any thought to our research?” he asks, hoping to change the direction of her thoughts. They’ve been working day in and out on a smallpox treatment. He fears it will come this way. Although they are very remotely located, travelers could bring it to them. It could kill some of them; it could definitely kill the children since some of them have never been inoculated against anything.

“Yes,” she says and tosses her pen down with frustration. “That’s just one more thing we have to worry about. Robert never should’ve come here. What an asshole.”

Herb frowns but doesn’t reprimand her. Mostly he doesn’t give her guff over the comment because he partially agrees with her.

“Well, he didn’t stay long,” he tries at a quip and gets a small grin from her.

“I think there’s a lesson here somewhere. Something about not making relatives too comfortable or you’ll never get rid of them.”

“I may have heard something like that one time, too,” he teases. “But we still have to contend with Gretchen and Lucas, too.”

“As far as I’m concerned, they can both stay for good, and Robert can leave for the equal amount of time.”

Herb doesn’t have the heart to tell her that what she is saying might just become a reality. It would make her hate Robert even more, as if that could be possible.

“I hope you’ll take care with their feelings. I’m sure they are anxiety-ridden right now since both parents had to leave.”

“Did they? Did they both have to leave?”

She is entirely too intelligent to pull one over on. Reagan has always been too astute for her own good. He should’ve known she’d pick up on the fact that Lucille left with her father and that it wasn’t necessary for her to do so.

“…she’s just one more pawn in Robert’s master plan of ultimate control and power. I’m sure he has a very specific role he wants her to play in this. It wouldn’t be like him to just invite her along because he likes her company.”

“You don’t think he loves her?”

His lovely granddaughter snorts indelicately and says, “Hell, no. He’s not capable of love, not the real kind. I hope he doesn’t come back. I’m just pissed he took our men with him. Dick move as usual.”

“We just need to continue our research,” he says, encouraging a change of topic. “Simon and I are going out to the shed later if you’d like to join us.”

“Sure,” she concedes. Then she balls up the map and leaves his office without another word. Herb knows she’ll study that map until she has every square inch, road, street and town memorized. He feels bad for his young granddaughter. The amount of stress she has coupled with the incredible dose she self-inflicts is not good for his great-grandchild. He wishes she’d just rest. He might have to slip her some herbal tea with chamomile later.

Sitting behind his desk and reorganizing the mess Reagan made, gives him something to do other than worrying about the men out on the road somewhere. A soft knock at the door draws his attention as Sue comes in with a steaming mug in one hand and baby Daniel in her other arm pressed against her chest.

“Hot tea, Grandpa?”

He smiles and says, “Sounds wonderful, Susan.”

She places it on his desk and says, “Someone woke up from his nap.”

“Let me see that little rascal.”

Susan passes the baby gently, carefully into his arms and takes a seat across his desk from him. He’s starting to get fussy, wanting his bottle. Herb rocks him, cooing soothingly to the tiny tyke.

“Oh, I don’t know why I ever doubted your lungs, youngster,” he confesses with a smile.

“Hannie’s heating his bottle,” Susan tells him.

Herb chuckles and replies, “I’d say that’s a good thing, huh?”

His eldest granddaughter smiles in agreement and nods.

“Derek and Simon are doing a perimeter check,” she informs him, her smile fading.

“That’s good. We’ll be fine while the men are gone. Derek is in charge and always knows how to handle things like this,” he says.

“He said a few of Dave’s men are going to stop by later in the week to check on us. Also, they’re coming with Sam and her uncle to the clinic to provide extra security on clinic days until the guys get back.”

“Great, that’s just great,” he says. “Good neighbors to have.”

“Good allies more like,” she corrects, to which he nods.

Hannah comes in a moment later and takes Daniel to be fed. She tells them that Paige would like to do it this time. Everyone wants to hold and cuddle that little boy. He’s bound to be spoiled. He only wishes, as he does most every day and every hour of every day, that his Mary was still with them. She always wanted a house full of children and grandchildren. She would’ve got her wish.

“We’re going to stay in the big house until they return,” Susan says.

Herb sips his tea and comments, “I think that’s a good idea, dear. I’m relieved that Robert’s wife went with him in case she would’ve wanted to stay out in the cabin by herself. That might not have been such a good idea.”

“No doubt,” Susan says. “I’m not sure how well trained she is on weapons or… well, anything. I don’t feel like any of us has gotten to know her at all.”

“Yes, that’s probably true. She spent most of her time in the cabin with your father.”

“I’m sure we’ll get the chance once they return home.”

Herb sighs and admits, “They may be gone for a while. I don’t think we should discuss this around the rest of the family, but I get the impression that they are planning on staying at Fort Knox for a while.”

Susan hangs her head and says, “Yes, I did, too.”

She knows her father better than her sisters. Susan was older when he left them, so she spent more time with him before her mother became sick. He knows how hard this has been, having him back in her life and feeling conflicted about it. His granddaughters have been through so much where Robert is concerned. He and Maryanne tried their best to give them a stable, secure upbringing growing up, but some wounds just cut too deeply.

“Don’t worry,” he croons. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”

Susan regards him with a doubtful expression but nods. He’s not so sure she believes him. Herb isn’t sure he believes himself. She leaves a moment later, and he is left with his own thoughts, which do nothing to alleviate the fear and worry from creeping into his thoughts.

He lights his pipe and crosses the room to stand in front of the wide, six-pane window. When he was a young boy, he and his friends were playing baseball in the side yard, and he’d cracked one right through this very window. His father had not been pleased with the outcome and had made Herb learn the fine art of window repair. After repairing and also paying for the window pane, he’d been more cautious and reserved his gameplay to the horse pasture, far away from any windows.

From this view, he can see Gretchen and her brother, Lucas, working with Huntley in the riding corral. He’s an accomplished young rider and can give them plenty of pointers until Cory returns. Huntley is a good boy and has come a long way since being orphaned and left on their farm. Herb can only hope that Robert comes back for his children and that Gretchen and Lucas aren’t also soon orphans in his care. He likes them well enough, but children should never have to experience a feeling of abandonment.

It is with an unusually heavy heart that he ponders the future of his family, which is starting to feel more and more gloomy and unpromising. He knows it is because of the return of Robert and his plans for the future. Hope is the only thing he can cling to now. The fate of his family and loved ones could rest in the hands of his son, and Herb is not entirely sure he is trustworthy.