The Homecoming: Countdown to Armageddon: Book 5 (21 page)

     Shooting a solitary police officer like John in a big city like San Antonio was something he could get away with. Shooting a small town sheriff, especially someone as beloved by all as Tom Haskins, would be something else all together. As an outsider, Robbie would already be suspect. And even in a hick town like Kerrville, a deputy might be smart enough to put two and two together and have the rest of the deputies, and the whole town, coming after Robbie.

     No. Shooting John before sweet Hannah and the girls moved back and got resettled just wouldn’t do. Once they were in San Antonio, Robbie would have a good chance of convincing them to stay after John’s death. At least until Robbie found the “assassin” and killed him. And became Hannah’s new hero. And was able to convince her that it was he, and not John, who was destined to spend eternity with her.

     So he would let John live, but only for a few more weeks. A month at the outside.

     But for Robbie, who’d loved Hannah for years and had patiently waited for her, it really wasn’t that big a deal.

     He rolled over and went back to sleep, hoping to pick up his dream where he and sweet Hannah had left off.

     Hannah, though, was at that very moment struggling with her own demons.

     She immediately picked up on John’s words,
“Oh, really? And just how can you be so sure that nothing’s ever going to happen to me?”

     The old John, the one she knew and loved, would never for a second have considered his own mortality. He would have argued against any possibility that harm would ever befall him.

     “Why, I’m better than Superman,” he’d say. “Superman fears Kryptonite. I scoff at it. I fear absolutely nothing.”

     Could it be that John had the same sense of foreboding events that she had? Did he share the same premonition that she’d been having?

     She’d talk to him about it. But there was no hurry. Recent events had left both of them frazzled, and they had a big reconciliation to plan for. They’d get through that first, and once she and the girls were settled, then she’d have her talk.

     Really, she reasoned. It was probably just silliness on her part. What was really the hurry?

              -42-

     Hannah and the girls’ last few days at the compound went off without a hitch, and the atmosphere took on a holiday tone. There was so much to do. Packing had to be done, goodbyes had to be said, hugs and kisses had to be given.

     In San Antonio, the air was filled with similar things, but were decidedly more low key.

     Police officers, it seemed, were a less emotional bunch.

     Sure, they’d grown to like Scott and accept him as one of their own. But it just wouldn’t do for such manly men to profess that they would miss another officer under any circumstances.

     So instead, they expressed their sorrow in other ways.

     “It was nice working with you, even though you’re the biggest screw-up the department ever had.”

     “Too bad you’re leaving. You were the only guy in the department who’s uglier than I am.”

     “Good riddance to you, Scott. Now that the Chief’s golden boy is leaving, maybe some of the rest of us can get some of the cushy assignments.”

    Of course, Scott and everyone else saw through the insults to see the genuine sorrow they tried to cover. Scott Harter was universally liked and respected by all, and he’d leave a hole in the San Antonio Police Department that would be hard to fill.

     At Santa Rosa Hospital, tears flowed freely and openly. Becky, too, was universally loved.

     Becky had been afraid that some would resent her, secretly, anyway, for getting out while most others couldn’t. Especially as overworked as they were already, and knowing they’d have to work even harder in her absence.

     But she saw no signs of that. What she saw in her fellow nurses’ eyes was gratitude, and hope.

     There was gratitude for all the work she’d done, all the times she’d gone the extra mile to help others, to pull extra shifts when other nurses weren’t feeling well. To help them grieve when they lost someone close. To serve as a punching bag when someone needed to lash out.

     Lastly, there was gratitude for Becky’s willingness to take on a new job that would finally provide additional nurses. Nurses that would soon augment their ranks, and ease the burden on everyone.

     All of the other nurses and aides knew that training such nurses, especially without a background in education, wouldn’t be easy. It was something none of them were willing to take on.

     But they knew that Becky would do a great job, and because of her efforts, brand new nurses would soon be showing up to ease their workload.

     The hope they felt upon Becky’s leaving was more personal. They’d all lost loved ones. Most were completely alone in the world, save their coworkers and friends.

     Young girls dream of finding their Prince Charming and moving to a better land far, far away.

     Seeing Becky and Scott fall in love over recent months gave Becky’s coworkers a chance to dream again.

     She’d found her Prince Charming, who rescued her from the numbing routine of her daily existence.

     If Becky could find love and a future in a dark and dismal place such as this, perhaps they could too.

     In Becky’s last days in San Antonio, a steady stream of people dropped by to see her.

     There were former patients who, like her Scott, she’d pulled back from the brink and nursed back to health.

     Then there were her former colleagues, many of whom she hadn’t seen in months or years, who’d gone on to other hospitals and clinics to put their talents to good use.

     One of the most touching visitors was a grizzled old nurse named Jenny, pushing seventy and living in a body ravaged by diabetes. Now confined to a wheelchair, but still caring for patients, it was hard for her to get in and out of police cars and fire trucks, which were the only two forms of transportation the city had running.

     When Jenny showed up at Santa Rosa Hospital three days prior to Becky’s departure, Becky was aghast.

     “I was going to come to see you in the morning to say my goodbyes. How in the world did you get here, all the way from St. Vincent’s?”

     Jenny seemed proud of her accomplishment.

     “I rolled, honey. Four miles, much of it a little uphill. But I’d have rolled through hell itself and kicked the devil out of my way for the chance to see you again before you left. And to thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

     “All I’ve done for you? Jenny, all I did was train you to be a fine nurse. That and love you and be a friend for you. You’ve done everything else yourself.”

     “You’re wrong, dear. You gave me so much more than training on how to be a nurse. You quite literally saved my life. Did you really not know that?”

     Becky, taken aback, managed a weak, “No. How so?”

     “When you met me I’d just lost my husband and last daughter to marauders. I’d already lost my two sons and their children to suicide. There was no one left. I was on the edge. I’d have committed suicide myself within days if you hadn’t come along. You convinced me that there was some good use left in this washed up and crippled old woman. That I could help others, so their family members wouldn’t go through the same kind of pain by losing them.

     “Even in my dreadful state of despair, your words sank in. And they gave me a purpose. I remember sitting down one night with a bottle of pain pills I’d been saving. Just in case.

     “And I remember thinking, I could take the easy way out. Or, I could follow your example and try to spare others what I’d been going through. I looked up at the heavens and asked God which way I should go.”

     “Obviously you know His answer. I’m still here, and still pushing this damned wheelchair from room to room each day, treating my patients as best I can.

     “And hopefully I’m still making a difference.”

     “You are, honey. You’re saving lives and providing hope every single day.”

     “Good. Then I’m repaying my debt after all.”

     “Thank you for coming all this way to see me. Let me know when you’re ready to go back to St. Vincent’s.”

     “Nope. If I tell you when I’m done, you’re going to have a couple of your police friends pick me up and place me kicking and screaming into their patrol car for a ride back.”

     She winked before she continued.

     “And although being manhandled by a couple of handsome men might not be a bad thing, I’m quite capable of rolling myself back to my own hospital.”

     “Jenny, you’re wrong. I was just thinking what a nice day it is outside, and what a great time to take a walk. A nice long walk to say, I don’t know… maybe St. Vincent’s Hospital.”

     She smiled and hugged her friend, happy to have seen her, yet not knowing if she’d ever see her again. She’d been hearing rumors that Jenny had been getting weaker in recent weeks, and might be hiding a serious medical problem.

     “Well, if that’s the case, then I’m ready whenever you are. Just promise not to roll me over any potholes or curbs.”

     “Trust me. You’re much too precious to me. Now, if I accidentally let you get away on a steep hill or roll you off an overpass, then that’ll just be an accident. An honest ‘oops.’ And I promise I’ll pick up the pieces and glue you back together, just like they did Humpty Dumpty.”

     “You inspire such confidence, my dear.”

     Becky enjoyed the bright and sunny day, and the chance to make a lasting memory with a good friend. She waited until they were several blocks from Santa Rosa Hospital before she revealed her second motive for the walk.

     “So, I want you to put all the bullshit aside and tell me, honestly. What are these rumors I’m hearing that you might have cancer and are too damn stubborn to have yourself tested?”

     With any luck, she might be able to save her friend a second time.

              -43-

     “Dad, where in the heck are you taking me?”

     “Patience isn’t one of your better virtues, is it, son?”

     “Huh?”

     “Never mind. It just means you’re an impatient guy.”

     “Well, hey, you can’t blame me. I mean, you woke me up at the crack of dawn and told me to get dressed, that I was going to work with you. Since then you’ve been pretty much quiet, like you’re up to something.”

     “This is my policeman’s face, Zach. I don’t talk much when I’m on patrol. I spend most of my time watching, and listening.”

     “Watching and listening for what?”

     “Watching for signs of people in distress. Or people trying to flag me down, because they’re hurt, or hungry, or afraid. Sometimes they try to wave me down from quite a distance away, because they don’t hear me coming soon enough to get closer. I make a point to look down all the alleys, all the side streets, behind all the parked cars.”

     “Why do people have to flag you down when they need you? Can’t they just call 9-11?”

     Scott braked the slow-moving car so he could look directly at his son.

     But he didn’t say a word.

     Zachary saw the folly in his own words and said, “Uh… yeah. I guess that was kind of a dumb question, huh?”

     “No, son. There’s no such thing as a dumb question.”

     He paused a second before going on.

     “There are, however, some questions that come incredibly close.”

     Zachary sat back in his seat and sulked, but only for a moment.

     “You said you listen too. What exactly do you listen for?”

     “Gunshots mostly. We still hear them periodically around the city. Most of the marauders are gone now, and most of the gunshots are either suicides or an occasional hunter. But if we hear them and can tell where they came from, we always investigate.”

     “It’s legal to hunt in the city limits?”

     “Well, no. But these days there’s not much to hunt. And it’s such a long walk or ride on horseback to get outside the city where the game is. So most hunters will take advantage of our good nature when they happen across a squirrel or rabbit inside the city limits.