The McClane Apocalypse Book Three (17 page)

The bleach blonde stripper had cried at the
funeral for Garrett and one of the men, the other African American
man named Rick had, at the very least, comforted her. The shorter,
Hispanic man, who she found out is named Willy doesn't seem
threatening. He just has a few strange ticks like blinking rapidly
and bobbing his head, but that isn't a reason to fear him, even
though Derek has told her that the man talks to himself. The teen
boy that Grandpa was referencing for minding his manners if he
works with their group is the one named Bobby. He has cold, almost
black eyes and he'd sneered at Sam throughout the funeral. Sue
disliked him instantaneously because of this. How could anyone be
mean to Samantha? She is a sweet young girl who was just on the
cusp of womanhood when this shit all fell apart. Her mannerisms are
quiet and delicate. Everything about her seemed light and graceful.
She moves with an innate femininity. Then there is Buzz, the bald,
short, skinny man with tattoos all over his head. Luckily he also
appears to be meek like the man who had comforted the blonde during
the funeral. Some of the others, however, have a menacing way about
them that makes Sue highly uncomfortable.

Last night in their bedroom, Derek had shown
Sue how to use the knife that he insisted she wear on her hip
everywhere she went from now on and also a few self-defense moves
that she's pretty sure she'll never be able to do if she is ever
attacked. Unless of course someone was threatening her babies, then
she'd kill anyone she had to and without hesitation.

As she walks toward the house lost in
thought, someone touches her arm, making her jump. It's only
John.

"Sue, can I talk with you?" he asks.

She stops to face him directly. "Sure, John.
What is it?"

John tosses an apprehensive glance toward
the med shed.

"Not here," he says.

"Let's go over on the front porch. Besides,
we should probably watch this go down with Derek and Kelly and the
visitors in case all hell breaks loose," Sue tells him, and John
grins and nods.

"It would be the shortest
all-hell-breaking-loose moment in history if you ask me," John says
with his usual good humor.

The late day sun glints off of the gold
streaks in his messy hair. He's such a handsome man, but she's
never been able to see him as anything other than something akin to
a brother.

"Aren't you worried about them? I was kind
of wondering why you didn't go out there, too," Sue asks as they
sit on the front porch swing together. She takes a second to pull
her rubber band out of her hair and sweep up the loose tendrils of
mahogany waves more securely again.

"Nah, they've got this one just fine without
me. They don't need my help with a group of losers like that. What
are they gonna do, overthrow Rangers with harsh language and
pancake batter?" John jokes easily to which Sue laughs.

Shielding her eyes against the sun, Sue can
see her husband and Kelly explaining the new rules of the visitors'
temporary stay on the farm, and a few of them are complaining. They
are no doubt protesting having to work harder—or about having to
milk a goat, she's not sure which. She and John swing a few
moments. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees,
clasping his hands together and making the porch swing stop moving
altogether.

"Tell me what happened," John finally says
quietly as he looks at the ground and then out on the horizon.

Sue sighs heavily. She kind of had a feeling
this is what he wanted to talk about.

"John, it's not my place. I…" Sue starts to
explain, but John interrupts her.

"Please tell me. I just want to help her,"
John requests pleadingly.

"Oh, John, I don't think you can," Sue tells
him and lays her hand against his back to soothe him. It doesn't
work.

"Nobody will talk about it. I have to know
if I'm going to help her at all. I just need to know. You have to
understand that, Sue," John asks again and looks directly at
Sue.

She sighs again, this time feeling the full
weight of the burdening secrecy Reagan has sworn everyone to.

"Please," he begs brokenly.

"I don't know everything. I can only tell
you what I know because of the snippets I overheard and the way she
came home that day," Sue admits as John nods in encouragement.

"She came home in March. When things started
falling apart overseas with the nukes and the wars and… well,
everything, Grandpa called her days and even weeks before and
begged her and then threatened her, but she wouldn't leave the
school because she's so damn stubborn. I mean, that's not the
shocking part," Sue says with a smile that John returns. "I don't
know exactly what happened because Grandpa wouldn't let me in the
room—you know, because I can't stand the sight of blood and stuff,"
she says with a chuff. John just smiles gently and places his hand
on her shoulder briefly.

Sue continues, "Reagan owned a small Jeep
but came down that lane in a black Volkswagen car. Grandpa called
everyone out of the house when he saw it coming down the lane
because we didn't know who might be in it. It could've been someone
bad. It was weaving all over the drive. Do you see that oak tree
there?" Sue points to the one in the front yard to their right.
It's a grand old tree with a tire swing hanging from a thick
branch. It has many deep, protruding roots, and a massive top full
of wide leaves that have turned into brilliant splashes of orange
and yellow for fall. John nods.

"Yeah," John answers with confusion.

Sue figures that he's probably wondering why
she is pointing out trees.

"She slowed down, slower and slower and
coasted right into it. If you look closely, you'll see black paint
on the one side. That's from that car. When we realized it was her,
we all ran out there and…," Sue shivers, and her eyes pool with
tears. She looks away from John and bites her lip, hard. She has to
get through this before anyone, especially Reagan, comes out here
and finds them. "It was horrible, John. I've never seen anything
like that, not even in a scary movie. The whole car, the whole
inside of that car was just…," her voice cracks and tears stream
down her face. John holds her hand.

He squeezes her hand firmly which gives her
enough courage to keep going. "It was covered in blood, her blood.
And when we opened the door, she just fell out of it onto the
ground. Grandpa grabbed her up. Yeah, Grandpa," she says lightly,
and John smiles at her. "He carried her straight into the house and
put her in Hannah's room because it was closest. It also has the
best lighting what with all the windows for him to see better."

"Did she wake up?" John asks.

"Yeah, here and there. There was a note on
the seat of the car that she'd written for Grandpa in case she made
it home. It said all her wounds and vitals and medical stuff. She'd
taken the time to write everything down: the medicines she'd given
herself, her wounds and the medical terminology to describe where
they were on her body like abdomen this and that, and medicine
dosages, and how many stitches…," Sue tells him but has a hard time
finishing. Some of this is difficult to remember because the pain
is just too great.

"You mean to tell me that she gave herself
stitches?" John asks disbelievingly.

Sue nods and sniffs, wipes at her cheeks
with the back of her hand.

"I know that they weren't good, and she
didn't get them all in correctly. Grandpa gave us small updates and
was yelling orders from Hannah's room. I've never,
never
seen him like that. He's been a doctor half his life. You know
Grandpa. He doesn't raise his voice, but he was yelling that day.
It was horrible. His voice was… so worried, panicked like I've
never heard before. He was scared."

"I can imagine," John confirms and grimaces
deeply.

Sue realizes that this is probably hard for
him to hear. But he'll never fully understand Reagan if he
doesn't.

"She told Grandpa that she was attacked, and
her friend was killed and so was Grandpa's best friend, Dr. Krue,"
Sue says.

"Yeah, Dr. Krue. I know that name," John
says with a nod. His blue eyes seem haunted.

"Yeah, he'd come down here sometimes during
summer break. He was a very sweet old man. Eccentric, but sweet
nonetheless. He and Grandpa and Reagan would stay up late into the
morning hours discussing diseases and surgery and weird stuff like
they always did. Anyways, the college was overrun with crime, and
they were attacked. I don't know what happened there. That's the
part I can't tell you. I think Grandpa knows, but I don't think
he'd ever tell you, John. He's like that. I saw him in the middle
of the night crying in the hallway when he thought we'd all gone to
bed. He was the only one up with her. He'd sent us all to bed. But
he must've lost it and didn't want her to wake up and see him, so
he went to the hall. Don't ever tell him I told you that. He's so
prideful."

"I understand. I would never say anything.
He just loves her so much. He loves all three of you girls," John
asks. "What else do you know?"

"When he was working on her, he was shouting
things from the other room, making Grams take notes on a notepad
for him so he could compare it with her note she brought home. He
said that she put on her note that she was stabbed three times and
had multiple lacerations and that she'd been choked. But Grandpa
shouted to Grams that there were six stab wounds, four deep or some
other term for deep and three superficial, whatever that means. I
think it means not deep. How do you get stabbed superficially?" Sue
tries to make light, but she can see a deadly fury coming over
John's face.

"Choked too?" John asks tightly, which is
not a good sign with so many of the visitors being on the farm and
also not being wanted on this farm by any of the Rangers.

"Yes, Grandpa said that her windpipe was
nearly crushed. That's why she's so raspy sometimes. She's always
had a little gravel to her voice but not anything like it is now.
If you ever notice, she takes very small bites of food. Grandpa
said she would have to always be careful not to choke because
there's no way of doing reconstructive surgery on her," Sue adds
and watches Derek and Kelly take two of the men from the group past
the house to the barns. She doesn't think John even notices or
cares.

"Was she…?" John asks with a great deal of
hesitation. Sue knows what he is asking.

"No, Grandpa said there was no sign of rape,
thank God," Sue explains. "I think he checked her when she was out
on the morphine or something. I feel bad for him that he even had
to, but he had to know in case she needed care."

John nods solemnly and finally releases her
hand.

"Yeah, she could've contracted a disease. He
had to do it," John justifies and hangs his head a moment.

Sue rubs his back again, giving him time to
collect himself.

"How did you guys do a blood transfusion on
her when none of you match?" John asks.

Sue knows that he's obviously remembering
his own brother's dilemma and Reagan being the only one who could
help. Now he can finally understand why none of them wanted her to
donate for Derek.

"He didn't. Grandpa said he needed to, but
that she would have to either survive it on her own or she wouldn't
because there wasn't any other choice. He said our dad was a match
to Reagan but not any of us. Grams and especially Hannie were total
wrecks. You don't understand how bad it was, John. You can't unless
you were there. There were so many buckets of blood-soaked rags,
and her screams were like something I don't ever want to hear again
for the rest of my life. Grandpa used as much local anesthesia
shots as he had—that's why there wasn't much for Derek. He told
Grams that he had to re-open some of the stitching she did and
re-sew them because they weren't right. I can only assume that was
because she was doing it on the run or something or in the dark
because Reagan is very neat and precise with stitches. Derek barely
has a scar and neither does Cory on his leg."

"Yeah, she's a fine doctor," John praises
and looks out at the visitors with a contemptuous glare. "She
probably couldn't do it 'cuz she was too injured and in shock."

Sue nods. "Yeah, maybe. I hadn't thought of
that."

John just frowns and pats her hand.

Sue continues on, "She was sick for weeks
and ended up getting a pretty bad infection. She was so weak. She
spent thirteen days in bed. Grandpa pumped her full of a lot of
medicines and had to give her oxygen which is why we don't have any
of that left, either. She could hardly breathe for a few days
because of her throat being squeezed so hard. It was a terrifying,
raspy sound. John, from what I overheard Reagan explaining, or
trying to explain to Grandpa that day, I think there was more than
one person who attacked her."

With this new information, John looks like
he's going to be sick right here on the porch. He swallows
hard.

"How the heck did she get away from more
than one person? She's so small," he asks when he is composed
again.

"I don't know. That whole scene at the
school is what I don't know. But at least I've been able to tell
you why she is the way she is. It's why she doesn't like people
touching her. For a few months afterward she would wake up
screaming. I'd run upstairs to her room, after we got her moved up
there because she had to use Hannie's room for the first month.
When I'd try to comfort her, she'd push me away, and sometimes when
I got to her room I'd find her in the back of her closet hiding and
holding her knife or pistol."

"Jesus," John swears with disgust and
frustration.

Sue is taken aback. She doesn't think she's
ever heard John take the Lord's name in vain.