The McClane Apocalypse Book 4 (37 page)

Simon is glad to see his sister jump in to
help. He remembers that she used to like to cook with their mother
sometimes.

“Simon, darling, do you know where the men went
off to?” Hannah asks. “This should be ready soon.”

“They said they’d be right in,” he tells her.
He doesn’t elaborate on the fact that they are
preparing
weapons for tonight. There’s no sense in
frightening Hannah even more than she clearly already
is.

He would
normally
hang out
with Cory during this transition to breakfast, but his friend is
long gone. He scrubs up in the mudroom and decides to rest for a
moment of quiet solitude in the music room until breakfast is
called. It doesn’t last but a scant few seconds before Sue rushes
in. She’s carrying Isaac, who is covered in food mess as if he’s
been at the pigs’ slop heap instead of at the island in the
kitchen.

“Hey, have you seen Sam?” she blurts without
preamble.

“No, I’ve been out in the barns with Paige,” he
reports. Sue
looks
flustered and stressed out,
too. All of the women are probably worried about their husbands
going into a battle tonight.

“Can you find her, Simon?” she asks as she
tries at wiping her son’s small face. “I can’t seem to find her and
we’re about ready to sit down to eat.”

“Sure, no problem, Sue,” he offers.

“Maybe she didn’t come down yet,” Sue suggests.
“That would be unusual for her, but I haven’t seen her all
morning.”

“I’ll run up and check on her,” Simon decides
and takes off at a sprint up the long set of stairs to the second
floor.

He traverses down the long, wide hall, passing
the set of stairs that goes up another
floor
to Reagan and John’s suite, then passes the bathroom. She’s not in
there. The door is open, the light off. He comes to her closed
bedroom door and knocks softly. After a moment with no answer, he
cracks the door open
and, unfortunately,
catches Sam in the middle of dressing.

“Oh crap!” Simon screeches and slams the door
shut. “Sorry,” he calls through the closed door.

Oh God, how embarrassing. Now he feels
terrible. He hadn’t thought he’d find her up here at all. His next
move was to head out to the horse barn to look for her which is
where she usually hangs out.
Instead,
he’d
caught
a glimpse of her bare stomach as she
pulled a shirt down over her head. He’d also
seen
a glimpse of more than he wants to admit.

A moment later the door
opens
and Sam stands there, this time fully dressed.
Although she is buttoning her jeans.

“Hi, Simon,” she says brightly. “What do
you…”

“Sorry about that,” he interrupts with a quick
apology. “I didn’t think you were in there. I was just coming to
get you for breastfast… I…I mean breakfast, breakfast!”

Sam laughs haughtily at his gaffe. “You’re such
a prude.”

He takes offense at her impudence and says, “I
am not.”

“Yeah, ok,” Sam remarks as if she doesn’t
believe him. “Simon, it’s fine. I’m sure you didn’t see anything of
importance,” she says and lays a hand on his forearm.
“I actually figured you were outside already,” he says with
confusion. He doesn’t want to admit what he saw. He doesn’t want to
tell her that he’d
seen
part of her black bra
and the pale skin of her smooth, flat stomach.

“I want to show you something,” she remarks
casually.

Sam turns her back to him and
simply
walks into her room again. Simon trails after her,
but only hesitantly so.

Her bedroom is equipped with an art desk that
he’d found for her in an architectural firm over in Nashville. He’d
insisted on making Cory help him get it into the
pick-up
truck, even though,
his
friend had protested that it took up too much room. It was worth
it.
Currently,
it’s littered with sheets of
paper covered
with
her incredible artwork. He
wanders over to
take
a closer look. She always
shares her art with him, but not always with everyone else. She
goes through dark phases sometimes that she doesn’t want the family
to see. What he views on her desk is not dark at all this time.
There are at least a dozen angels drawn in different angles and
positions and scenarios. Some of the figures are of women with long
wings and ethereal clothing that is nearly transparent. Some are of
men with swords and armor and mighty
wings
.

“I had to finish this,” she says as she joins
him at her desk.

She is casually running a brush through her
long black hair as if it’s just
a normal
thing,
him being in her room. They don’t hang
out like that anymore. Not since she’d become an adult.

“Finish this drawing?” Simon asks her and
picks up the one in front of him. It’s a charcoal of an angel with
dark hair and a gauzy gown of fine, thin filaments. She’s holding a
spear and is hovering above the ground. She is no peaceful angel.
She’s a warrior of strength and purpose.

“Yes,” Sam confirms beside him.

She places the brush on her nightstand and
stands next to him again. Her large azure eyes gaze up at him with
nervous agitation, worry and something he can’t put his finger
on.

“She’s for you,” Sam tells him. “She’ll
protect you tonight while you’re
gone,
while
you’re on this mission.”

Simon tries to keep his expression stoic like
he does whenever he’s looking at Sam. It’s not always easy anymore.
Her head tips slightly to the side, causing her long hair to fall
forward and frame the side of her face. His jaw clenches
reflexively.

“You drew me a guardian angel to keep me
safe?” he asks and hates the fact that his voice sounds so full of
emotion.

She says nothing but moves into him and lays
her head against his chest. Her arms wrap around his
middle.

“Come home safe, Simon,” she demands softly
and then sniffs.

“Are you crying?” Simon asks and pulls back,
his hands
at
her slim shoulders. There are
tears streaming down her cheeks. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t cry,
Sam.”

“I can’t help it,” she says
on
another sniff. Then she throws herself against his
chest again. “You’re my best friend, Simon. I don’t know what I’d
do if I lost you. I heard Kelly telling John that this could be
bad. He said you guys
have
never taken on a
group this size before.”

Simon strokes her head and down her back
trying to soothe her. He doesn’t pull her closer. She couldn’t
exactly get any closer if he’s being honest. He shushes her, tries
to get her to see reason.

“Sam, everything’s gonna be fine. You stay
here with Paige. I need you to help me with her,” he tries another
approach. “She’s not used to this. She wants us to run. That’s what
her group’s always done. They run. But you know, sweetie, that we
can’t do that. We have to help people. It’s our duty. Those men are
way too close to our farm and the clinic. If they found out about
this place, they could come here next. They could try to take you.
We have to stop them before it ever comes to that. You understand,
don’t you?”

She raises her head from his tear-soaked
t-shirt and regards him pensively. Simon steps back to put room
between them. He wipes at her tears with the hem of his
shirt.

“I don’t like this,” she complains.

Good grief. Is every single woman in the house
going to do this? He’s not sure he’ll make it through the whole day
if they all start crying. He hates it when they get
upset.

“I know, but we’ll be ok,” he tries to
reassure her. “You know we’ve been trained. We’ve done this before,
right?”

This gets a nod, but her eyes tell him that
she’s still not sure of this plan to do a
full-scale
raid on this group of marauders.

“We’ll be fine, all right?”

“Take her with you,” Sam says.

She turns away from him, picks up her drawing
and proceeds to fold it four times until it’s a small
square.

“Don’t do that,” Simon scolds. “You’re
wrinkling your art, Sam.”

“She can’t keep you safe if she’s not with
you,” Sam tells him.

Then she goes too far and jams it down into the
front pocket of his jeans.

“Hey there!” he exclaims. “I can do that
myself, young lady.”

Sam chuckles at him.

“You’re such a prude, Simon,” she says
with
another laugh. “I’m not trying to get in
your pants. I’m just
trying
to put something
into
them!”

“Uh huh, well I don’t need your help,” he says
nervously. “I still wish you hadn’t wrinkled it all up. That was a
really good
one.”

“Of course it was!” she says with charm. “I
wouldn’t draw you something shabby to watch over you,
silly.”

“It’s
excellent
. One of
your best,” Simon says to her and watches a shy grin of praise
creep onto her small, Cupid’s bow mouth. Reagan’s always saying how
Sam looks like a Japanimation comic book character with her big
blue eyes, dark hair and tiny red mouth. This comment usually
irritates Simon. She doesn’t
look
like some
cartoonish character. She’s lovely and delicate and feminine. And
she thinks she’s his best friend. Simon has to look away for a
moment, over her shoulder out the window.

“What is it?” she asks with concern.

“Nothing,” is his standard answer for this. She
asks him this question or similar ones a lot lately. “We should
head down for breakfast.”

Sam frowns slightly but nods in agreement. They
return to the boisterous first floor where breakfast has commenced
in the dining room. It doesn’t take long to finish the meal of
grits, smoked sausage, eggs and homemade bread and then
clear out
the children. The men get straight into the
planning and coordinating phase.

“I’d like to go, too,” Gavin chirps up and says
out of the blue.

All eyes fall
on
him. He’s
been unusually quiet the last twenty-four hours. His sister’s
friend is normally quite the talker. He’s full of funny stories,
and Simon has come to like him.

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” Kelly
says.

“I can shoot my bow really well,” he says. “I
can hit a squirrel, so I’d say I could hit a person, too. I’ve had
to use it in that capacity before. I just never wanted to
again.”

“This isn’t exactly a bow and arrow kind of
fight,” John puts in with a frown.

Reagan nods and seems concerned.

“I can shoot a gun, too,” Gavin offers. “I’m
a good
navigator. I’d like to contribute to
this. It’s important to me.
You all have been so good
to us.
I’d like to be of some help, pay you back. If we’re
going to stay here, it only seems right.”

Kelly and John regard one another. John
whispers something to
Derek,
who
nods.

“Actually, Gavin,” Derek says. “We need you
here. We don’t usually all leave the farm at the same time.
Understand?”

“Sure, I can do that, Derek. No problem,” Gavin
states but looks disappointed.

Beside him, Paige fidgets in her seat. She
clearly isn’t comfortable with her friend wanting to go on this
raid any more than she is happy that Simon is going.

For the next few hours the men go over plans
while the women take care of the children, the chores, cooking and
also come and go in the dining room to pick up on snippets of their
ideas. Sue has helped by offering forth information on the exact
layout of the Target store, each area of the interior and what they
used to contain, the location of departments, and entry and exit
points. It could all be completely useless information since the
fall of the country and the occupation of the store for who knows
how long by a band of fifty or so people, but it may help. Every
little bit helps. Simon offers his opinion where he feels that it
would make a difference. The men respect his
opinion,
and he does theirs, as well. They work together
until every last detail is hashed out. It’s almost noon when they
finish, but this day is far from over. They’ll need to
finish
loading weapons and ammo, make sure that the
people staying on the farm are also locked and loaded in case
something
was
to happen while they are
gone,
and go over the plans with the Reynolds
when they arrive later for dinner.

It is nearly six p.m. when they all say their
final good-byes in the driveway and review once more how to handle
any bad situations with the family who will be left behind. His
sister clings to him for a long time. Hannah is weeping as she
holds her baby girl and Kelly close to her. The Reynolds men are
saying good-bye to Bertie and the young, abused woman they’d taken
in yesterday. He’d gone over last night with Doc to treat this
woman. Her abuse had been severe, but she will survive. Doc gave
her a preventative dose of three-day antibiotics in case Tim
Lafferty or any of his friends whom she said had also raped her
were carrying any diseases. Simon felt sick to his stomach when
she’d
disclosed
her severe abuse at their
hands. He could literally feel his blood pressure rising with anger
and malice toward those men. He’s glad Kelly and John had killed
Tim and his two friends. He only wished they’d suffered more.
Tonight he’ll let his anger fester on the ride over to the Target
store where the same types of vile men dwell. And then he will
unleash his fury upon them.