An Apocalypse Family (Book 1): Family Reunion (30 page)

“Hey, how is she?” I asked.

“She’s stable; I think it was just the breaking point for her,” Meg responded.

I sat down and kicked my feet up onto an empty bunk.

“So, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Any more messages from the freaks?” I asked.

“All the time, but I am getting much more adept at closing off the seemingly endless chatter. It’s nice during the day, when they’re sleeping. I can sense them, but it’s just a presence, not actual thought pictures,” she said.

“Well, it will be nice to have someone that can track them down and find their hiding places,” I said.

“You know, they’re not evil,” she said.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

“It’s like everyone thinks the freaks are evil, demons or something. The truth is they are more like mentally challenged teenagers with an unquenchable need to feed. They aren’t killing for fun—they’re killing to survive.”

“So, what you’re saying is we shouldn’t be killing them?” I asked, remembering the people I’d seen that had been eaten by these mentally challenged teenagers.

“No, it’s us or them at this point. I’m not saying that; I’m just saying I don’t like it that I’m going to be used to track down their lairs, so that we can slaughter them in their sleep.” She seemed to be on the verge of tears.

“What about the smart ones?” I asked. “Do they think of us as anything but a food source?”

“They know we are smarter than the four-legged ones: dogs, cats, horses, and cows; but no, they don’t think of us as being like them. They are learning to not come running when they hear weapons fire.” Meg seemed almost proud of them. “But even the smart ones are not really smart; they’re just more aware of what’s going on, I think.”

“I’d offer to take you with us, but I don’t think that it’s going to be any different for us, actually; we’ll have to deal with it more on a daily basis than you will.” I said.

“No, this is my home. I have Sarah and the kids here and I will be fine. I just don’t like all the killing. I know it’s necessary, but I don’t have to like it,” she said, and smiled at me. “Now, why don’t you treat yourself to a shower? That wound is healed enough that you can, and you smell pretty awful.”

“Thanks, sister dear,” I said, and headed to the shower room. Maddie and Lisa had been true to their word and found me some new clothes while I slept; a brand new pair of Carhartt cargo pants and some heavy-duty T-shirts, and best of all, some new underwear. I felt like a new man after my shower. I stuck my head back into the crew’s quarters.

“Hey, are you going to be all right, Meg?” I asked.

“Yeah, little brother, I’ll be okay. Thanks for letting me vent. It helped.”

“No problem. And just so you know, I love you!” That got a big smile.

“I love you too, Ryan. Now go get some more rest, you goofball.”

The next morning I awoke with the sun and felt pretty good. My side still hurt, but it was no longer debilitating. I went in search of Clay to see when he planned to haul anchor.

I found him on the bridge going over the charts with Parker.

“Hey guys, anything I can do to assist?”

“Yeah, go down to the operations center and help Conner. Thomas is already onshore working on the bomb, and he gave Conner a checklist of stuff that has to be done prior to us getting underway,” Clay said. “Do what he says, but keep an eye on him and make sure he’s okay.”

“Got it,” I said, and left to go below.

I found Conner checking and rechecking all the switches and controls in the operation center. He looked like he had it under control, so I just let him know I was there to help him however he needed it.

“Thanks, Uncle Ryan. Thomas taught me all this stuff, but it’s a lot to remember, ya know?”

“I know; you want me to read the checklist to you for startup?” I asked.

“Could you? That would be a big help.”

I ran through the checklist and he double-checked all his work.

“I think we’re ready to go,” he said. He grabbed the intercom handset and called up to Clay.

“Ready to fire, main one and main two.”

“Standby, we’re clearing the small boats and Josh is towing the dock to shore,” Clay came back over the speaker. A few minutes passed before he returned to the intercom.

“Okay, kick the tires and light the fires!”

Conner looked at me, his finger poised over the green start button. I gave him a confident nod, and he pressed it. The number one main came to life. He began checking all the gauges and then came back over to the control console. He didn’t even look at me this time, he just mashed the start button and the number two main spun up and chugged away happily. He ran down the tower of gauges and monitors and then picked up the mic,

“Number one and number two mains are running within normal parameters.” His accomplishment was almost as big as the shit-eating grin on his face.

Clay came back over the intercom, “Good job, mate. Stay on station and monitor those gauges and let me know if any red lights start blinking.”

“Roger that, captain,” Conner shot back.

I smiled and slapped him on the back as I made my way back upstairs. He had this under control.

The ship’s whistle blew two long blasts as we weighed anchor and headed for the ferry terminal on the south end of the island. I walked to what was the bow for this part of the trip and enjoyed the wind blowing in my hair as we pulled out of Penn Cove.

Josh and Parker pulled up next to the bow of the ferry and waved from the cabin of the 26-foot Duckworth. Then Josh pushed the throttles forward and sped off to scout the ferry terminal for any potential problems.

I loved being at sea. The smell of the ocean, the sound of the wind as you pushed through it. I leaned on the gunnel and stared into the water.

“Hey Cuz,” Maddie said as she walked up behind me.

“Hey,” I replied.

She leaned over the rail next to me. “I was talking with Clay last night. He told me that he doesn’t expect to last much longer than the six months of drugs he has stored at the house. I think he’s just trying to make me feel better. I want to try and find some more of the drugs he needs.”

I looked up from the water and over at her. “What does Doreen think?”

“She thinks he won’t last another six months, period, but she also said he’s proven her wrong about everything else.” Maddie looked torn.

“Do we even have a clue where to find the type of drugs he needs?” I asked.

“Yes, but you won’t like it.” She told me about the medical warehouse in Renton.

“You’re right, I don’t like it.”

We held an impromptu meeting and discussed the possibility of making a run on the warehouse. Clay was against it, Doreen was for it.

“Clay, you won’t last a week without those drugs, and right now that week starts exactly one hundred and seventy-two days from today. It’s all I think about.” Doreen was in tears by the end of her rant.

“It would only be a temporary reprieve, honey,” Clay said. “I don’t want anyone risking their life to give me another month.”

“Look, we don’t have to decide this right now,” I said. “We’ll go ahead with the plan as it stands today. We dock at the Clinton ferry terminal and unload the coach. Then Maddie can go with you, Parker, and Josh to get the drugs that are still at Clay’s house. On your way back, you can scout out the medical warehouse. If it looks doable, we will hit it after we blow the bridge. Josh can pick up the team in Renton, and we can leave for Texas from there.” Everyone stood there for a minute, looking at each other.

“Fine,” Doreen said, and left the bridge.

“Clay, are you okay with that plan?” Maddie asked.

“No, but it is better than going off half-cocked,” he said. “If it looks like anything but a cakewalk, I’m not going to allow it.”

“Good. Now let’s get this thing to Clinton and go from there,” I said.

Forty-five minutes later, Harry and I drove off the ferry in the coach.

“What do you think is going to happen?” Harry asked me.

“I think Maddie will storm the gates of hell to save her brother. I’m just glad I’m not going to be there when she does; he’s going to be pissed.”

We were halfway up the island, headed for the farm, when we heard Maddie on the radio.

“Harry, can you hear me?”

Harry pulled the coach to the side of the road and went to the radio. She was calling on the VHF.

“This is Harry, go ahead.”

“We are headed south on Josh’s boat. We left Clay on the ferry. Doreen, Josh, Parker, and I are going to make the run on the warehouse to get Clay’s medicine. We’ll check in with you when we get back to the boat.”

Harry looked at me; I just shrugged.

“Okay, Maddie. Please be careful and let us know that you are safe as soon as you can.” He looked at me as if to say something. I held up my hands.

“Don’t even say it, Harry. We both knew this was coming.”

He put down the radio mic and went back to the driver’s seat, started the coach, and pulled back onto Highway 20.

*****

Maddie had a map of Seattle and the surrounding area out on the table, and she was going over their route to the medical warehouse.

“I think it would make more sense to dock down here near Burien, find a vehicle, and head straight to the warehouse, and then head to the house if we strike out,” she said, pointing to area just west of Renton on the map.

“That is,
if
we can find a vehicle,” Parker added. “This point is about nine miles from the warehouse, so if we have to hoof it we’re looking at three hours in and three hours back, at least.”

“Josh, how long do you think it will take us to get here?” she said, still pointing to Burien on the map.

“Well, it’s pretty calm today and we’re making good time; I’d say an hour and half.”

“That doesn’t give us much time at the warehouse if we want to make it back to the boat before dark on foot, but let’s play it by ear. Hopefully we can find transportation,” Parker said.

An hour and ten minutes later, they were approaching the area where they planned to disembark.

“Head toward that dock at your two o’clock, Josh,” Maddie directed. Josh corrected his heading and aimed for the floating dock that she pointed out.

They were all a little keyed up. Although it was daylight, they felt the pressure of the task ahead of them and the possibility of running into trouble. Parker double-checked his M4. It had a suppressor on it and an ACOG scope. He had a utility vest with several magazines for both the M4 and the suppressed Sig Sauer Mosquito he carried. The Mosquito was only a twenty-two, but the sound it made was just barely louder than someone spitting—he liked that. Doreen carried the other Mosquito and one of the Wilson Combat shotguns. Josh carried his CHP .40-caliber automatic and one of the M4s with no suppressor. Maddie had her trusty AR on a single-point sling and the Judge strapped to her leg.

They pulled up to the dock. Parker stepped off the boat and tied off the lines. They checked their comms and headed out.

The dock was attached to a small boathouse with a set of stairs that reached up the hillside to a stone terrace. Parker took the lead and poked his head up over the top of the stairs to find the terrace was a hundred feet deep with a guesthouse nestled into the bank behind it. He knew it was a guesthouse because of the fancy sign on it that said
Guesthouse
.

They had already discussed the fact that they didn’t want to get bogged down searching every house they came to, so Parker lead the group around the side of the guesthouse to a gravel pathway that lead up through the beautifully landscaped hillside. The sun penetrated the canopy of evergreens in bright beams that lit the cultivated forest, giving it a surreal appearance. The main house loomed ahead a few hundred feet to the east.

“I imagine that would set you back a million or so,” Josh remarked.

“Yeah, a couple of weeks ago; now, not so much,” Parker said as he motioned to Maddie. “It doesn’t look like the garage is attached to the house. What do you think?”

She surveyed the layout. “Let’s move straight to the garage and see what’s in it.”

They moved as stealthily as possible toward the garage. When they got close to the house, Maddie signaled Parker that she would cover him while he checked it out. He nodded his understanding and moved to the back of the garage.

The garage was small and it appeared to be much older than the house. It emptied straight on to the road that bordered the property. He glanced back at Maddie and then went to the side door. Inside, he could see the form of a car under a cover. He banged on the door twice with the palm of his hand, then listened and watched. Nothing moved or shrieked at him, so he tried the knob. It turned freely in his hand, but the door wouldn’t budge; the deadbolt was thrown. Without much thought, he broke out the windowpane with the butt of the M4, reached in, and turned the deadbolt.

The doorframe next to his head exploded. In the next second, he wondered what was happening when the windowpane next to his ear shattered. Then he heard Maddie open up with her AR, sending rounds toward the house. The next thing he realized, he was inside the garage with his back against wall. The right side of his face stung and he reached up to find a splinter of wood sticking out of his cheek. He removed it with a quick jerk and then rolled over and peeked out the door. He couldn’t see anyone, and the gunfire had ceased.