Graham's Resolution Trilogy Bundle: Books 1-3 (59 page)

BOOK: Graham's Resolution Trilogy Bundle: Books 1-3
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Chapter 15 Private Time

 

“It’s not that bad,” Graham assured Tala when she caught a glimpse of him. Macy had already warned her, so she had had a little time to prepare before McCann brought Graham back to camp. Tala immediately pulled him into their bedroom, where she could talk to him without the others hearing.

“It’s only a few stitches,” he explained, but Tala’s expression killed him. Suddenly she looked petrified, as if she knew this thin veil of safety was all that stood between her, their unborn child, and the hell they’d all known before.

Graham hated it. He’d do anything to have Tala feel secure in his arms, always. This life was harsh and yes, he’d been lucky today. Despite the bump and scalp wound, he’d been damn lucky in fact. Rick was the one that got the spray of buckshot, even though that was a little blow and not likely to cause any lasting problems. He was probably putting up with his own wife about now, too; Graham smiled at the thought.

“What is so funny?” Tala asked as she held an icepack on Graham’s head, as Clarisse had advised.

“Rick. His wife is probably giving him hell about now.”

“I still don’t see why that’s funny.”

“You would if you were me.”

She pinched him and he yelled, “Ouch!” more out of shock than the pain.

She held up her finger to him. “Don’t make light of what happened today. Don’t you dare.” Graham could see that she was only barely keeping it together as her eyes pooled with tears.

“Tala,” he took her arm down and pulled her close to him. She was pissed, but he knew the anger came from worry more than anything else. “I fully admit I was lucky as hell today. I’m sorry; I’m not making fun of the danger. I’m just thankful it wasn’t worse.”

“You can only get lucky a few times, Graham, before it catches up with you.”

“Hey, you have to understand something; I don’t take chances. I walked toward her to try to calm her down. I didn’t know she was unstable. I didn’t for a minute think she’d shoot at us. I don’t think she was even aiming; the shotgun just went off. I think she’s been through a lot. She’s young, and Dalton said they were going to take care of her. He said Dutch got a hold of her after she’d been traumatized.” Graham ran his hand down her spine knowing all too well that it was Tala herself who had only recently almost succumbed to men who were bent on the same sort of torture.

“It wasn’t her fault,” he repeated in a whisper. “I can only imagine what they put her through. When the other guys were arguing she flipped and then the shotgun went off. She’s going to be okay now. Clarisse is monitoring her, and she’ll be living with them for now,” he said as his hand widened around Tala’s hip.

Tala relaxed in his arms and leaned her head into the crook of his neck. He cradled her belly with his palm and whispered into her ear as she sat in his lap on the bed that had become theirs. “I love you, Tala, but you need to know I have every faith that you’re strong enough to carry on if something were ever to happen to me—that you would take the rest of the group and go with Dalton. Promise me,” he said, caressing her side and kissing her neck.

“No,” Tala said. Another tear dropped, and she clutched Graham’s shirt with both hands. “I won’t ever leave here without you, so
don’t
get yourself killed.”

There was no arguing with Tala when she was defiant like this. Once she set her mind on something, that was that, and Graham knew of only one infallible way, without argument, to reassure her in silence that he loved her and would do anything to protect her.

Chapter 16 An Old Enemy

 

“It was them. I was in Afghanistan,” Dutch explained. “I have no doubts who they are. I monitored the radios. My dad was an old HAM radio operator, and he kept all the equipment. I started listening in one day—for background noise, more than anything else, after everyone in town passed on.

“The broadcast was mostly static in the beginning, a few auto transmissions and repeaters that were never turned off; then one day I heard your Morse transmission. I’ve known code since I was a kid, because of my dad. I deciphered yours, and since the message was on a beacon, I wasn’t sure if you guys were really here. The day I convinced myself to contact you back, I heard their traffic over the shortwave.

“After that, I didn’t even attempt a broadcast. I listened in to find out where they were and rode two days north to see what I hoped hadn’t happened. Unfortunately, the people I saw were no different from the enemy we fought for years in the desert. They’re here now. There’s no mistaking that.”

Dutch’s words hung in the air as a nightmare come true. What they’d all suspected had now became real, ominous—heinous.

The rain had picked up to a steady rhythm against the blue tarp and filled the silence as Dalton silently hoped that Dutch was mistaken. Steven looked at him like he was speaking Swahili, while Sam sat back and pondered the situation. To Dalton they all appeared utterly defeated, and this wasn’t good. They needed to fight them. They needed to wipe them from their soil, make them pay for all the lives they’d taken. Send them back to their God on a fast track—and without the virgins.

“How many and what kind of weapons are they packing?” Sam asked.

Dutch shook his head in defeat before he answered, “
Ours
, man. They’re packing
our
weapons, driving
our
trucks on
our
land, and there’s a lot of them. I saw at least two or three hundred, and that’s just here. I’m sure they’re in every major port by now. They did this to us, and we lost. There’s no fighting them now. I’m going north; you ought to do the same. Anyone they find they’ll either enslave or kill outright. I’ve seen it.”

How did you find Lucy?” Steven asked.

“Lucy found me. I think she escaped from capture. She’s never wanted to talk about it, but she was running like hell through the woods that night and ran right into me. She was covered in someone else’s blood. I hate to think of what happened to her, but she’s a lot better than she was—despite what happened here today. I hope you guys will give her a chance.”

“That’s not a problem, Dutch. We’ll give her a fair chance. What we need to discuss is how we can get these bastards off our soil,” Dalton said.

“Like I said, there’s too many of them. I’m going north to Canada. If and when we do have enough numbers to do something about it, I’m all in; until then, I’m becoming a Canadian.”

“That doesn’t sit well with me,” Dalton said with more venom than he intended.

A moment passed before Sam filled the tension with a more pressing question. “Have you monitored their conversations on the radio since then? Have they talked about their plans?”

“Yeah,” Dutch said, “more of the same; mostly in Arabic, some of which I picked up in my last employment.
Taking the land from the infidels. Removing the scourge from sea to sea.
They’re burning any and all monuments, churches . . . everything. It’s sick. I’m no coward, man,” he directed his comment at Dalton, “but there’s no fighting that. We don’t have enough men or weapons. The writing’s on the wall. They won, we lost.”

Dalton couldn’t take Dutch’s defeatist attitude. He stood and yelled, “That’s bullshit! During the revolution we were outnumbered. We didn’t give up then. We didn’t let the British win. We’re no different now. There’s got to be a way.”

“This isn’t the revolution, and their numbers are greater now, Dalton. Believe me, if there’s a way, I’m all for it. If you’ve got a plan, let’s work it.”

“No one followed you here, right?” Sam asked.

“No, I don’t think so, but I’m telling you, I think you have a week at the most. They’re coming, and borders are no obstacle for them. We saw it in the Middle East. Once they declared a caliphate there, nothing held them back. We were too fucking lackadaisical in our pansy-ass limited airstrike shit. No, our own government had as much to do with our downfall as they did. What a fucking waste,” Dutch said.

“So they used the virus to kill us all, and then waited?” Steven asked, trying to summarize the events.

“I think so, man,” Dutch nodded solemnly.

“There were early, but unsubstantiated, reports that China weaponized H5N1 and then sold it to the highest bidder. They did anything it took to stick it to the United States. Guess we know who won the auction, though I don’t think China celebrated for long. It backfired on them and everyone started dying off before we could even begin to investigate,” Dalton said.

“We need to take a scouting trip and see how far they’ve come. Get our people out of harm’s way and then make a plan of attack,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I agree. Dutch, can you stay a while with us and lead us to where you saw them last so we can get an idea of their numbers and their location?”

Dutch shook his head, and Dalton knew this would be a battle.

“Dalton, I am making my way north. I’m not sticking around here. If you guys come up with some grand idea to wipe them all out at once, let me know. I’m just passing through and giving you guys the warning along the way,” Dutch said.

“That’s it? You’re dropping a bomb on us and leaving? Like,
deal with it
? Like it or not, you’re an American, and right now we’re in short supply of those—in case you haven’t noticed. We need you here with us to fight these bastards,” Steven said.

Dalton realized the conversation could easily get out of control, and he needed to pull everyone together. Steven was typically mild-mannered, but even he was getting pretty pissed off.

“I agree with Sam. We need to form a scout team and check these guys out. Just three or four of us; I don’t want to leave our people undefended in case things go the wrong way. Dutch, we could really use you, but I won’t stand in your way if you’re leaving. Thanks for the warning.” Dalton stood and signaled that the meeting was adjourned. They’d gotten about all they could from Dutch, and it seemed pretty clear that he wasn’t willing to give them anymore. There was no sense in fighting over it.

“Lucy will be fine with us,” Sam said. “Don’t worry about her.”

“Thanks,” Dutch said and shook Sam’s hand.

“Are you going to head out?” Dalton asked him as the others rose to depart.

“I’ll head out in the morning.”

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Dutch, and good luck out there.” Dalton shook the man’s hand with a firm grip.

“You’re going to leave the girl without saying good-bye to her?” Steven asked.

“Steven,” Dalton said as a warning. “Let the man go. We all have our own decisions to make.”

“It’s all right,” Dutch answered. “She’s not mine. She doesn’t belong to me, but I will come by tomorrow on my way out and bring her a few things.”

“Why don’t you at least stay until we get back? You could help keep an eye on things,” Steven suggested.

“I’ll think about it.”

Dalton nodded, thinking,
At least he considered Steven’s suggestion
. He then led the others back into the rain with new troubles on their minds and a plan beginning to form.

Chapter 17 Caught and Lost

 

It was dark, but he could see their shadows coming. “Where have you guys been?” McCann asked Mark and Marcy as they passed the newly erected stables on their way to the cabin.

Mark stopped so suddenly that Marcy ran into his back. He hadn’t expected McCann to be waiting for them there. “We were . . . hanging out,” he said, stumbling over his words.

“Where?” McCann didn’t even try to hide his anger.

“What’s with you?” Marcy challenged.

“I was getting ready to saddle up and come find you two. Do you even know what’s happened today?” McCann yelled.

“What? What happened?” Mark asked.

“While you two were out screwing around, Graham nearly got shot and instead fell and hit his head pretty bad. Rick
did
get shot, taking a graze to his leg. If it wasn’t for Macy, I might be dead, and you two weren’t even around here to help out when we needed you.” He was surprised at his own anger and jerked when he felt Macy’s soft touch on his arm behind him, trying to calm him down.

“Is Graham all right?” Mark asked.

McCann took a deep breath and tried for a calmer tone. “Yeah. He’s taking it easy with Tala. He’s had a rough day.”

“We decided to stay out here and give them some time to themselves for a while,” Macy added.

“Have you guys seen Sheriff?” Bang asked from behind Macy.

Mark ignored Bang’s question. “What happened? Who nearly shot Graham?”

McCann didn’t want to explain it. He was frustrated with them and had no intentions of trying to make them feel better. He took a deep breath of the moist night air and said, “Come on, Bang, let’s go see if we can find Sheriff.” He’d already saddled Mosey to find the missing teens earlier. He mounted up and reached down to Bang, grabbing him and pulling him up onto the back of the saddle.

“Don’t be out long,” Macy said to him, trying to smile.

McCann nodded at her and cut his eyes away from Mark and Marcy.

“I’ll explain,” Macy said to the pair as he trotted away.

“McCann’s really pissed,” Marcy said.

“You’d be, too,” Macy shot back, and McCann took some satisfaction from her tone; at least she seemed to be on his side with this one. As McCann and Bang rode through the starry night, Macy’s voice trailed off.

“Is Graham going to be okay?” Bang asked timidly.

“Yeah, buddy, he’s fine. He was knocked out for a while, and scalp cuts bleed a lot, but he’s going to be fine.”

“Good. I don’t want anything to happen to him. I don’t know where I’d go if he died,” Bang said.

McCann led the horse in silence, thinking about what to say to Bang. Things were different these days, and outright lying just wasn’t the right thing to do to a little boy in these times. There was no reassuring him completely; sadly, at five, Bang already knew that.

“Bang, you know that if something ever happened to Graham, I would take care of you, right? We’re a family now. And if I am also gone and Tala is gone”—he tried to put it tactfully—“Dalton would take you. But you’re not an ordinary kid, Bang.” He laughed and patted Bang on the knee behind him. “You’ve got skills. You can take care of yourself. I’ve seen you snare a rabbit, gut it, skin it, and roast it over a fire pit you made yourself, all in less than an hour. There’s not much more to taking care of yourself if you can hunt and feed yourself.”

“Would you take care of Macy if something happened to me?” Bang asked him.

McCann cleared his throat. He knew how close Macy and Bang were. They were more siblings than Macy was a sister to Marcy. “Macy can take care of herself, too.”

“No. She needs me. She gets sad sometimes, and lonely,” Bang revealed.

“We all do, buddy; but yeah, I’d take care of her,” McCann said. He pulled out another toothpick to chew on while he stared through the moonlight ahead of them. They heard a distant howl, which ended their conversation, and McCann nudged Mosey with his heels enough to get him to speed up a little from his normal pace.

“Sheriff!” Bang called out while McCann whistled long and low, hoping to catch the dog’s attention. It wasn’t like Sheriff to run off without showing back up around dinnertime, and even McCann was beginning to worry.

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