Walking in the Rain (Book 4): Dark Sky Thunder (5 page)

“Well, we do have some of the regular grenades too. And Luke might not know how to throw one real good, but I understand he can pull the pin and drop one through the window with the best of them,” Lori said, giving me an unfortunate flashback to falling in on top of a dying man who’d caught most of that blast. I shivered despite the heat.

That comment earned a curious look from Uncle Billy’s contingent, these folks not having heard the story already. I just shook my head. Later.

“Dad, if you’ll check that Pelican case, you will find your birthday and Christmas present all rolled into one neat package,” I said instead.

Spotting the long, black plastic case, my father gave it a look and swiveled his head back to me. He knew, but asked the question anyway.

“Is that the sniper rifle?” he asked softly.

I nodded before replying. “Yes, sir. Barrett Model 98B in 338 Lapua. And you’re welcome.”

“Why don’t you want it, Luke?” Uncle Billy asked.

“Well, I’m not superstitious, but it was used to kill a friend of mine. Plus, it will be a while before my gut heals up enough for me to carry the CETME, much less handle the recoil on that one.”

“Wait,” Beth Elkins held up a hand. “What’s wrong with your gut? You pick up some kind of parasite on the way? We need to get on a dose of the diatomaceous earth in you for worms…”

Beth Elkins was an ER nurse and also well versed in herbal remedies and substitutes for modern medicines. That made her as valuable, if not more so, around the ranch than her husband, Mike, who was a skilled machinist as well as a veteran Marine. They were also some of my parents’ closest friends.

Like my dad, Mike Elkins was a local, born and raised in the area. He’d graduated from high school the same year as Dad and they joined the Marines together. Dad stayed in, but Mike got out after his first enlistment ended. Then he went to technical school, got trained as a welder and machinist, and went to work for one of the refineries down in Beaumont.

As I’d come to understand, most friends drift apart over time, not able to keep up the effort to maintain a long-distance friendship. Dad and Mike managed it, and even if they went years between visits, they still exchanged Christmas cards and later, e-mails over the years. In my own case, I’d retained only a few friends over the years of bouncing from one base to another. I got used to being the new kid, and after a while stopped trying so hard to fit in with my new classmates. Then we made the move to Grandpa’s ranch, and Ripley. Once here, I learned what it was really like to put down roots.

Beth was working at St. Elizabeth Hospital in Beaumont, which all the locals called “Saint E” because all those extra syllables were just too hard to say, when she met Mike. Now they had two kids, a pair of boys named Travis and Austin, and I was glad to see they made it as well. Beth had time working in the emergency room and knew how to at least get started on treating gunshot wounds.

Beaumont was not a big city, but not a small town, either. That was one of the main reasons the Elkins jumped at the chance to move back into the area when Mike was offered a job as fab shop manager for an oilfield supply company based just outside of Center.

So Beth was interested and a little horrified as I described my injury and treatment. Like Cass, she’d seen her share of grisly injuries but up until now, not on someone she considered another one of her kids. “You should still be in the hospital, Lucas,” she declared. “If we still had hospitals.”

I tried not to laugh. Laughing still caused the muscles to pull uncomfortably, as I’d learned several times already. “That’s what the doctor said.
If
. I’m better now, and as long as I don’t move too fast, or laugh, or cough, or strain those muscles, I can get around fine. Mom wants me to go see one of the doctors still practicing in Center, but I doubt they could do much, anyway.”

“Well, you still need to come back up to the house so I can check out that incision and get your vitals. You should have told us about this yesterday. And no more carrying around all that gear, young man.”

She said that last part with a finger wag that nearly had me laughing again. That was so Miss Beth. Funny even when she didn’t mean to be. “I need it, Miss Beth. I don’t go anywhere without my rifle, and this armor is like my security blanket now. Already saved me several times.”

Miss Beth took a step back, and I felt several eyes on me. Ike, Uncle Billy, and Miss Beth all gave me more shocked stares.

“Boy,” Uncle Billy asked carefully, “how many times have you been shot?”

I had to stop and think about that one, which sort of answered his question. “Well, I got the bullet burn on my arm at Saw Creek, the first fight we had there, and I caught one in the chicken plate on the old set of body armor I was wearing before that at the Farm. Sniper. Then, oh, I think I caught two more at Hybernia Court that didn’t penetrate the new armor. The one that got me was sort of a fluke. Glanced off the bottom of the armor and all.”

Uncle Billy glanced over at my father, who knew the details now, and then at my mother, who was visibly blinking back tears. “Crap, Sam. I say you ground the boy until he learns to duck better.”

“So, you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about? I was stupid. I screwed up. Grandpa is dead. He died to save my dumb ass, and it was all my fault.”

I’d found Paige in her favorite thinking spot. I figured she would be there, where no else would find her. Just the three of us knew about it, and Alex was still down for his nap. So, tracking her down wasn’t exactly the work of Sherlock Holmes, especially when I finally got the story from Dad about where and how Grandpa had been killed. Right here, in this barn.

Ignoring my sister’s outburst, I slung my rifle and started climbing. The exertion made my arms feel good, stretching my muscles, even as the healing incision in my lower right abdomen still tugged painfully. The big round bales smelled of sweet grass and maybe a hint of dried mint, a familiar scent that reminded me of simpler days now long past.

“Daddy send you looking for me?”

The anger was absent from her voice now and replaced with a sad resignation. I took a seat atop the round bale closest to her perch and unslung my ever-present carbine, laying the weapon across my knees. Paige looked down from the rafter that was her seat, and her eyes met mine. I could see the red from her tears.

I dared not join her on the narrow wooden beam. My weight, though still dangerously low for my size, was likely too much to be added to the rafter. My little sister and her eighty something pounds, by comparison, was no threat to dislodge the solid support member. She was still so small, fine boned and fragile looking.

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “He noticed you weren’t around right off, but Amy suggested I come find you if I could.”

“Ah. I like her, you know? Tell me something, Luke.”

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me about Amy. I heard she’s going to be my sister-in-law someday. I want to know more.”

Jeez, I thought. Where to start? Paige was ignoring the reason I was here, but I decided to play along for now. Heck, she was right to be curious and I wanted them to get along. Amy was nervous enough about how my family would react to our relationship. Paige was a pain sometimes, but she could also be helpful if I could enlist her aid. Plus, this might get her to loosen up enough to answer my questions later.

“Well, let’s see. I’m sure you’ve noticed how she’s beautiful, right? But, it’s like she doesn’t know it. And she’s really smart, and not just book smart; she also has all this common sense. She’s brave and willing to risk her life to do the right thing. That she can still care so much about people, and doing the right thing, even after all we’ve been through just blows my mind.

“She’s funny, and good, and she’s a better person than I’ll ever be. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve her in my life, but I want her with me. For as long as I’m on this Earth.”

Everything I said was true, but the words seemed inadequate.

“So you love her?” my sister asked carefully.

“Yes, I do. With all my heart.”

Paige seemed to be stuck after that. I felt her eyes on me, but I couldn’t begin to decipher what was going on in her head. When she finally spoke, she broke off her eye contact and turned her gaze outward, focused on the gap between the overhanging roof and the back wall of the barn. The open space was a vent, designed to allow the rising heat of the drying hay bales to dissipate outside the structure. From her vantage point, I knew she could see far out across the rolling green pastures.

“Sometimes I manage to forget what has happened. Out there. I can sit here and watch the cows graze and listen to the wind whispering through the trees.”

I waited patiently for Paige to continue speaking, and nearly jumped from the tension as she eventually found her words again. “I was up here when they came, trying to forget. Daddy told you about Mr. Windsor, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he did. They didn’t make it, he said.”

“That’s the truth. I was on the radio, and I heard the distress call come in that day. You know, they were supposed to be here, not trying to hang on out at their place. Daddy warned him, but he thought they could hold. Didn’t think this was going to get that bad. But it did.”

Paige stopped, looking out across the fields and sobbing a bit, before she continued. “It was Shelby, Mr. Windsor’s oldest daughter, and she said the attackers were over the walls and coming in waves. Daddy and Grandpa were on the road before she stopped transmitting, but I heard it when the attackers hit the house. I could hear Shelby crying, and praying, as the shooting got nearer. Then the transmission stopped.”

Shit. I knew Shelby. She was a year younger than Paige. They played softball together.

“Daddy told me they all died. The Windsors and those folks from the store. And their families.”

“Yeah, I heard that. They were just too close to the county road there, and with the interstate where it is…” I stopped, not needing to say the rest.

“I don’t understand all this. We would help folks if they just asked. Momma has helped everybody that has come up to the gate. At least gave them water, and if they had kids, she made sure they got some of the garden pickings. Not much, but enough for a few days. Daddy didn’t like it, but Momma said if we were careful then we should try to help.”

I thought about what happened with the Thompson family and shivered. Then I told Paige the bare bones of what happened there, and it was her turn to shiver.

“I knew they lost their parents, but I was afraid to ask, you know? That’s just terrible. I don’t think it would happen here, though. All we’ve seen are small groups just passing through. And those damned bandits.”

I nodded and waited to see if Paige would continue. This was her chance, and I felt the deep bond of love for my sibling, strained though it was in recent years, snap back stronger than ever. I regretted all the mean things I’d said and done and vowed to be a better brother. So, this was a start, anyway.

“I saw them coming that day, Luke. Riding across that field and heading straight here, their ATVs aimed right at the barn. Of course, we had warning as soon as they cut the wires, but still there were a lot of them. Somebody, I think it was Daddy, opened up on them from a ways off and they started dropping. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM. But it wasn’t fast enough.”

Dad had told me all this. How they’d hit just after first light, coming across the field in a force of fifteen men. Well-armed and highly motivated, they could have raided for livestock and gotten away, but their leader got greedy. He wanted it all, the whole setup. To do that, he and his men took their time and scouted for a week before striking. They had high-end optics and eyeballed the place from the trees nearest the farmstead, but outside the fences.

For their plan to work, they needed a hostage. So they picked my sister.

“Like I said, sometimes it can seem so peaceful, you know? When we had attacks before, they came at us from the road, or over from the back pasture fence line to steal a cow or two. So I got sloppy that day, feeling all safe and secure here. I gathered the eggs that morning, then came over here to hang out in the barn. I was hoping Sierra would get free and come to sit with me.

“So, I was here, just like I am now. Except, I forgot to bring my rifle with me. The one stinking day I needed it, and I left my rifle racked in my room.”

I didn’t tell Paige, but Dad found out later that was the signal for the raiders to attack. If it was up to me, she would never know that little tidbit. Already, the guilt was eating her alive.

“So I forgot my rifle, and the bad guys were coming right at me, like in some stupid movie! Damsel in distress, right? So I forgot my rifle and I couldn’t do anything. I knew if I tried a run back to the house, I wouldn’t make it in time, so I decided to hide. I couldn’t do anything else to protect myself, and it was like these animals were coming for me. And then I heard Grandpa calling my name.”

At this point, I began to worry as great sobs began to tear through my little sister’s small form. Rising carefully, I stepped over to the suspended support beam. Cautiously, like with a frightened filly, I laid my hand across her quivering back and stroked her softly. Finally, sensing her calm returning, I extended both arms and pulled my little sister into my embrace.

“We thought you were dead, Bubba. Everybody did, but nobody said anything. Except Grandpa,” Paige husked out with her sobbing voice as she clutched me tight. “He said you were alive. Probably hunkered down somewhere safe and waiting for the right time to move. To come home. And when he died, it was like losing both of you.”

I remember Dad had said something about that. I’d ask him more later. For now, Paige needed all my attention.

As I stood there holding my little sister, I remembered back to all the summers we’d played in this big old barn over the years. Back when we were kids, and even before Mom and Dad built the “house under the hill” just across the meadow. Back then, we would migrate to the ranch for a few weeks or months from wherever Dad was stationed and spend our days learning about the horses and the cattle. And under protest, about the hogs as well.