The McClane Apocalypse Book Three (13 page)

It had been great. It had been great
talking, holding hands, occasionally risking a kiss and getting to
know her even better. She is by far the most interesting woman he's
ever met in his entire life. She is so intelligent and talented and
funny. She actually makes him laugh out loud sometimes. He hasn't
done that for a while. Her generosity of spirit is almost shocking
to him. He'd lost his generosity toward his fellow man. Twelve
solid years of fighting in wars had killed that within him. The
current events of the world aren't exactly helping with that or
instilling some newfound humanitarian drive within him, either.
Kelly still doesn't believe that he deserves her. But,
unfortunately for Hannah's lack of better character assessment,
she's chosen him, and Kelly couldn't be happier.

For the first time in a long time, he
actually feels happy. There aren't any desert countries to fly off
to and sweat his ass off fighting terrorists; no mountainous
regions to drop in by helicopter for a quick mission of intel
gathering or sniper style shooting of some turd; no swampy,
mosquito-infested, third world marshlands to sneak into for a
snatch and grab of a drug dealer. There just isn't any more warring
for shit that they didn't need involved with in the first place.
His purpose on this earth finally makes perfect sense. There is
just Hannah, and she is all he'll ever need, all he never even knew
he needed. His one goal in life is to keep her and his young
siblings safe. If in doing so he also keeps her family safe, then
that's just fine with him. But she is now priority number one.

It had been great just talking quietly on
the porch, watching fireflies dance about in the night sky. It had
been great until he'd spied a couple of the men from the visitors'
group wandering around in the pitch dark equipment shed. There was
even a clanging of metal on metal as they must've been rummaging
through things. He'd quickly snatched up his night vision goggles
to ascertain who it might be. His rifle was also at his side in
case he needed it.

Derek had appeared at the side of the house
before Kelly could even rise from the swing and had gone straight
to them after a quick nod to Kelly. After a few minutes of what
sounded like heated accusation and unveiled threats on Derek's
part, the men had returned to their camp. It had been great. Past
tense. It hadn't been so great after that because he'd been left
too unsettled to sit any longer with Hannah and had sent her in to
bed. Not before he'd stolen a kiss at her bedroom door, of course.
Then it was back outside with John and Derek.

Now as he drags his ass out of bed and up
the basement stairs at eight a.m. after about a whopping five hours
of sleep for the third night in a row, the first thing he sees is
Great-uncle Peter at the island in the kitchen, Hannah at the back
counter and Grams cooking at the stove. Not exactly the greeting
he'd been hoping for this morning. The only redeeming moment is
when John comes in the back door. He's probably headed upstairs for
a few hours of rest since he's been up since four.

"Good morning, Kelly," Grams offers up a
sunny greeting.

He merely grin-grimaces and nods once. She
simply smiles and turns back to her recipe box while continuing on
with their conversation as if Peter being in the kitchen is nothing
out of the ordinary. The man is her brother, after all, which puts
Kelly in a bad conundrum since he'd like to throw his ass off the
back porch. He sizes up the other man and his smaller stature and
is fairly sure he could get some hang time with this lump.

"Peter was just reminding me of something
our mother used to make for as when we were children. It's a pound
cake, and I just know I have that recipe around here
somewhere."

John has halted right inside the back door
as if he can't believe what he's seeing, either. His scowl is one
of downright anger, pure anger that is unsheathed for all to see.
What the hell is that about? He allows the screen door to shut
quietly behind him without taking his blue eyes off of Grams's
brother.

Peter ignores John and gives Kelly a wolfish
smile, revealing three missing teeth.

He says, "Maryanne, that sure would taste
good. Haven't had Mom's pound cake in years. Haven't had much to
eat at all lately."

"Why's that?" Kelly asks as Hannah hands him
a plate of breakfast leftovers. It matches the empty one in front
of Peter.

His woman's great-uncle asks for and
receives seconds from Grams. Suddenly even the smell of the women's
cooking cannot bring back Kelly's appetite. He forces himself to
eat, but he refuses to sit at the center island near Peter. He
takes up a defensive stance near Hannah and consumes his food while
standing.

""Cuz, man, there ain't crap for food at our
camp," he whines for sympathy.

"So go on a run for it. You can hit the
cities for food and supplies. Hit abandoned homes," John
practically demands in an unfriendly tone. "Take up residence in
one of those homes," his friend hints with zero subtlety.

"It ain't as easy as it looks, man," Peter
whines again. "It's real dangerous out there, Maryanne. Couple of
the dudes we was traveling with got killed raiding homes."

"Yeah? Try raiding the ones that don't still
have people living in them. That might work a little better for
you," John says with open antagonism.

Kelly almost feels bad for Grams's brother.
He's also wondering if Grams is getting pissed at John, but she
doesn't show it or seem to be. Peter doesn't answer, and John has
moved toward the stove where Grams serves him a plate of warm
breakfast food. His friend of so many years also stands while
eating his breakfast.

"Peter, do you and your friends out there
have enough food to last for a while or do you need to go and get
food somewhere?" Hannah asks firmly.

This surprises Kelly. It surprises him that
she doesn't just propose to give them all of the food from the
pantry, the garden, the cellar and the storage of canned goods
along with offering the basement bunk rooms for sleeping.

Peter repeats Hannah's words as if
astonished by them, "Go get food?"

"Right. Go and get food as in go out to the
city and search for supplies like food," Kelly elucidates.

John jumps in with his own suggestion.
"Might be a good idea anyways. You and your group could scout
around for a new place to live while you're at it."

"This place here is fine for right now if
you ask me," Peter counters smoothly.

"But Grandpa has made it clear that your
friends can't stay here, Uncle Peter," Hannah says, shocking
everyone in the room.

Peter will not be put off, however. He
shifts his argument to the one weak link in the family.

"It's dangerous as all get out, Maryanne. We
even talked to a group that was from South Carolina. They said
there ain't crap over there no more. The ocean level rose so much
that everyone just drownded, man. There ain't no cities left over
there. And we heard California is just as bad. Frank's brother
lived in Vancouver and he said it's real bad there, too. But then
he went and got killed the first week into this crap. Frank found
that out from his other brother. We met up with him and his group
in Ohio, but they decided to split for the west instead of come
here with us. That's where we was gonna' go, but not now. That's
when I remembered this place. I knew you'd let us stay here,
Maryanne," he drones.

John softly groans with irritation beside
Kelly. He's glad that Peter didn't bring a whole other group to the
farm, too. Thank God for small miracles. Keeping an eye on the
small group he's with is proving difficult enough.

"You aren't staying here. Not forever," John
corrects the great-uncle.

"We'll see," Peter mumbles.

He shoots a glance toward John and Kelly
that has an underlying malice to it. John looks ready to strangle
this weasel. Kelly is also not thrilled with the living arrangement
on the farm, but this type of behavior from John is unusual. His
friend is usually a cut-up, the life of the party, the funny guy.
Kelly's seen this other side many times before, though, and it
didn't usually end well for whomever John was aiming his wrath.
Back then it was usually an interrogation suspect or a tense,
mission type of situation that brought this out of him, so it had
been apropos. Now it somehow makes sense again. His friend has a
lot to lose on this farm.

John badgers on, "No, we won't see. Doc
already laid down the rules. When the sick are better, your caravan
is out of here. There's no renegotiation."

"I haven't talked to Herb about it yet, but
I see it as we could be helpful around here if we stayed on," Peter
argues stupidly.

Kelly almost laughs. How the hell could they
possibly be helpful? They've not offered to lift a finger since
they've been here, not even to take care of their own sick people
or children.

John looks ready to yank Peter off of his
stool at the island to take him out back for a good old-fashioned
ass whipping. Kelly is also not feeling the love where Peter is
concerned.

"Doc has all the help he needs now with us
staying on the farm," Kelly interjects.

"Yeah, but you ain't family and I am," Peter
says with way too much confidence.

"They're family, too, Uncle Peter," Hannah
says defensively.

She goes back to mixing and measuring some
concoction or another at the counter.

"They ain't family, Hannah," he argues again
with less patience and more temper showing.

"Derek is married to Sue, Peter. Don't you
remember?" Grams asks. "And John is his brother and Kelly and the
kids are like family. They take care of a lot around here."

"They're very helpful on the farm," Hannah
says more quietly this time.

"Well, we'd be
more
help if the rest
of us stayed on the farm," Peter responds.

He shovels in his food as if he hasn't eaten
in a while.

"It's not happening, man," John says with
more force.

This gains his friend a quick glare from
Grams's brother.

"Besides, why did you bring all those people
here in the first place?" Kelly asks with a touch of accusation.
"You coulda' just came by yourself."

"'Cuz they're my friends, man. We watch each
other's backs," he answers and then adds. "Plus, like I said, we
were hoping to help out."

Kelly doesn't believe this for a minute.
This man until now has made no effort to be helpful one bit. John
even harrumphs rudely beside him.

"We've got it under control. The harvest is
about done, so we really wouldn't need help now anyways," Kelly
says coldly. "The sooner you guys find your own place to hole up
the better. It'll take some time to get established somewhere, and
then next planting season you'll have a lot to work out… amongst
yourselves."

"You could maybe find a farm nearby, Peter,"
Grams comments with more than a little suggestion.

This is surprising, to say the least, coming
from Grams. Kelly had not thought she would have it in her to turn
away her own brother. She has obviously had a slight change of
heart regarding extended stays of unwanted family members on the
farm.

Peter reddens in the face slightly.

"What about if we get sick again? Or what if
we get shot or something, Maryanne? What then, huh? It ain't like
you can get to a doctor anymore. The hospitals are gone, Maryanne,
gone!"

"Herb and I have been talking about it, and
he may set his practice back up in town," she tells them all.

This is the first Kelly's hearing of this.
It's not at all a good idea. As a matter of fact, it would be
highly dangerous to even consider something like that this
soon.

"What?" John asks with the same level of
shock.

"He said that he and Reagan could go to town
once a week and offer free medical care for a while until things
get back to normal," Grams says.

She just keeps chopping tomatoes like it's
no big deal what she's just informed them of.

"No way," John blurts. "There's no way she's
going to town once a week. Doc either. It's not safe."

"Honey, there aren't any doctors around to
help the sick or injured," Grams tries at soothing John. "Like
Peter said, the hospitals are closed. The urgent cares are gone.
The doctors have all abandoned their practices. People will need
medical care, John."

"I'm well aware of what's going on out
there, Grams, but it just isn't safe for either of them to just set
up shop like nothing at all has happened," John debates
further.

"Herb and Reagan have been talking about it
for a few weeks now…" Grams starts again, only to be interrupted by
John.

"No!" he says more firmly.

Kelly stays his friend with a hand to his
thick forearm. John makes brief eye contact but pushes on with the
discussion. His ire isn't geared toward Grams, Kelly knows. He's
just frustrated at the topic. However, Kelly doesn't want John to
upset her. They all care about Grams as if she were their own
grandmother.

"Grams, I just came back from the city with
her. I don't want to have to tell you how many times she could've
been killed. I say no. This isn't happening."

"They aren't talking about setting up in
Clarksville," Hannah offers to lighten the mood and be more
hopeful. "Grandpa meant going back to his own practice in our small
town of Pleasant View. Perhaps in the spring it will start to
improve. Maybe they can do it then, Grams."

"That's really not any better, Hannah,"
Kelly concurs with John, who looks fit to be tied. Hannah won't be
put off, though.

"People like Uncle Peter and his friends
could come to the practice in the springtime to seek medical care.
It would also give them time to consider this idea and to prepare
the practice again for use. I'm sure that it has been looted…"