The McClane Apocalypse Book Five (61 page)

“Don’t be scared for Simon,” he says firmly,
his dark eyes narrowing. “I’ll bring him back.”

Then he jogs away without another word. So
much for discretion and one-night stands. She hopes Simon didn’t
just witness that interaction.

Paige drags herself back inside the cabin and
sets the two deadbolts which slam home with a resonating crack in
the silence of the forest.

Chapter Twenty-five

Reagan

“Almost done, babe?” John asks, peeking his
head through the open door of her research room at the clinic.

“Yes, give me a minute,” Reagan returns with
a smile as she looks up from her microscope.

Her husband ambles into the room, unaware
that he could be bringing in an outside source of contamination.
Reagan just smiles and goes back to the lens. She’s been studying
diseases a lot lately, trying to prepare for the coming cold and
flu season, which has proven very deadly in the last few years.
She’s also been vigorously studying smallpox, but she hasn’t told
anyone that.

“Is Grandpa ready?” she asks him.

John slides his hands around her waist from
behind before nuzzling her neck.

“That’s not helping,” she reprimands
weakly.

John just chuckles in her ear and says,
“Maybe not, but it’s helping me. And, yes, he’s ready. But
he
said to take
your time because
he’s talking to the sheriff.”

“What about?” Reagan asks as she pushes a
different slide under the microscope.

“The thefts we’ve had in town,” he tells her
honestly before allowing his hands to fall away from her.

“Great,” she says sarcastically. “Hope
they catch whoever’s doing it. I thought theft wouldn’t be a
problem for a while still. And here we are with some asshole
running around stealing
from
people already. So much for our peaceful little
town.”

“Could just be someone too embarrassed to
come forward and ask for help,” John offers.

Reagan can tell that he doesn’t really
believe that.

“Yeah, sure,” Reagan scoffs and leans
back into his
wide
chest. He
immediately starts rubbing her shoulders. “Sounds more like an
asshole who’s taking things that don’t belong to him. Sounds like
the visitors all over again. Those were some real
winners.”

Her husband, who smells dirty and
sweaty and divinely sexy, chuckles. The
deep
tones of his voice draw her in like a
drug.

“We don’t have any leads yet,” John
says
with
a sigh and does not
comment on the visitors.

“Even better,” Reagan returns with sarcasm
and swivels in her seat to face him.

“Don’t worry,” John says, laying his hand
against her cheek, the scarred one. “We’ll find them. It’s a small
town. Gossip and all.”

His grin could disarm a
nun
. Reagan feels herself being pulled
into him, into his inner warmth and comfort.

“What about Simon and the others? Any word?”
she asks.

John sighs with great trouble on his mind,
“No, I still think I should’ve gone over there. Just in case.”

“But I thought you guys said that Dave
the Mechanic’s group could handle this with the kids… I mean Simon
and Cory,” she corrects. It still feels strange thinking of them as
adults, especially Simon. It seems like yesterday that he was a
gangly teenaged boy with freckles,
glasses
and tasseled loafers. He’s pretty much
still the same, minus the gangly part. He’s filled out a
bit.

“Oh, yeah. He’s definitely capable of
handling a small mission like this. I just don’t… I don’t know,”
John laments and tugs her lab coat until she’s closer.

Reagan knows he is restless, anxious
for a fight. It’s not in his blood to be a farmer, a councilman of
sorts of a small town, or the husband of the town doctor. He’s not
one to be forced onto the sidelines when a battle is looming. He’s
itching for this fight. She feels
bad
that he can’t go, but they can’t afford the use of the gas.
They don’t have the natural gas compressor up and running yet.
They’re close, but the system needs a few tweaks.

“I know, babe,” Reagan says with
sympathy, although her selfish side is glad he can’t go. When John
leaves her for a mission, the tightness in her chest, the shortness
of breath, the heightened anxiety she feels is nothing short of a
panic attack. She can’t bear to be separated from her damn husband.
She blames him for this, too. Before John, she didn’t have to worry
so much. To soothe his longing for the battle, Reagan adds, “We’ll
just have to find another way for you to work off all that
pent-up
energy.”

His eyes jump to hers, instantly playful and
ready for the challenge.

“Oh really?” he drawls in that sexy tone of
his. “Hm, sounds promising, Doctor Harrison.”

John pulls her closer, wedges between her
legs dangling over the stool. He stoops over. His mouth lands on
hers with a heat that is instant and consuming as usual. The hand
at her waist moves within moments to cup her breast. Reagan winces
and pulls back.

“Sorry,” she apologizes. “Think I might be
getting ready to ovulate finally. I think it’s been close to three
months since I last did. I’m not sure. We’ve been crazy around
here. I lose track. But they’ve just been sore, so I’m assuming
it’s on the way. We should be more careful right now, too. Don’t
want to take any chances and accidentally get knocked up.”

“Why not?” John asks. “Jacob could use a
brother… or a little sister to look after.”

Reagan snorts and replies, “No thanks. He’s
got enough step-siblings at the farm. I’m not a brood mare,
Harrison. And don’t get your hopes up like that anyway. It’s not
going to happen for us, John.”

“Then why be careful?” he asks, brushes her
hair back from her forehead and kisses the tip of her nose.

“Just in case,” she says snidely and wrinkles
her nose at him.

John just chuckles and pulls her down from
the stool.

“Let’s grab the others and head home,” he
suggests as they leave the lab room and he flicks off the
light.

“Sounds good,” she agrees and clasps his hand
in hers as they check the back door and make their way to the front
of the clinic. “I’m kind of tired tonight anyway. We should get
back before Hannah has dinner finished. She’ll be after us if we’re
late. Or else she’ll get the Hulk after us.”

“Of the two of them,” John starts, “I’m more
afraid of Hannie.”

Reagan laughs as he locks the front door.

“Of course you are. You’re a smart man,
John,” Reagan says with a grin. “I wouldn’t have married you if you
weren’t afraid of Hannie. That would’ve meant you were a blooming
idiot.”

He laughs as they meet Sue and Grandpa a few
blocks down the street near the main drag where the sentries are
posted.

He is speaking with the sheriff, who
has turned out to be a valuable ally so far in keeping the town
safe and secure, minus the random burglaries. He’s a soft-spoken
man with a kind disposition and an uncanny ability to talk people
through their disputes and differences. He is laughing at something
Grandpa
had
said before they
arrived. Not surprising. Her grandfather is as good at making
people laugh as her husband.

Static comes across the sheriff’s radio, so
he plucks it from his hip and speaks a few yards away from
them.

“We should get going,” Reagan says to her
grandfather, who nods.

The sheriff grabs John’s arm to halt them. He
extends his index finger to indicate they should wait a moment. He
ends the call to whomever it was he was speaking and turns to them
again.

“Someone’s at the gate for you, Doc,” the
sheriff says to Grandpa.

“Who is it?” John asks, the tension causing
his shoulders to rise.

“Not sure. Want me to come with
y’all
?” the sheriff asks.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” John answers for
them.

They walk in a group to the wall with the
sheriff. Armed sentries guard the towers as well as the entry
gate.

“Open it,” John calls to the guards. He has
raised his rifle toward the front of his body instead of slung onto
his thick shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Derek asks as he jogs
over.

Her brother-in-law had been working on the
wall build, which seems is never going to be finished in Reagan’s
impatient opinion. Derek also unslings his rifle from his shoulder
and holds it at a slightly more casual angle in front of him.

John explains, “Somebody wants to see
Doc.”

Both guards unlock the big mechanism,
sliding the long bar to disengage the security system. Then they
pull hard on the heavy steel doors on rollers and drag them to an
open position. Reagan is surprised at what she sees.
Instead of a person standing there, they are greeted
by an older model white- or what was once white- short bus like the
kind that retirement homes would’ve used to drive their residents
to and from appointments.

The bus door squeals loudly as it opens and a
tall man slowly comes down the three stairs, backlit by the setting
sun. He takes a few cautious steps toward them.

His appearance is haggard and fatigued. He
may be tall, but he’s thin. His hair is nearly all white. He’s
wearing a military uniform that has long since seen better days and
no longer fits him correctly.

“Robert?” Grandpa stutters unsurely.

Reagan can’t believe her eyes as the man
approaches closer. There is a fading bruise on his left cheek and
one that matches under his right eye. His knuckles appear scraped
and bruised, as well.

“Dad?” Sue asks incredulously.

The man holds out his hand to them.

“Dad?” Sue asks again and runs into his arms,
nearly knocking him down.

“Colonel?” Reagan repeats the name he most
preferred.

She doesn’t join her sister in a joyful,
tear-filled reunion, though.

“Robert, is it really you?” Grandpa asks.

“Yes, sir,” her father answers stoically.
“It’s me. I’m home.”

“Welcome home, son,” Grandpa says and
hugs her father, patting his back twice before pulling away.
“Come
home
to the farm. We still
have it in production, probably more than it ever was. You can come
there with us. We were just going home for the day.”

“For the day?” her father asks weakly.

“Yes, Reagan and I still run my practice here
in town. Well, as best as we can,” Grandpa explains.

Her father’s light blue eyes dart
toward her. She just inches closer to John and appoints her father
a
stare
that does not warrant the
same warmth that her sister and grandfather have offered him. She
doesn’t feel it, so she shouldn’t fake it. This man left them years
ago to be raised by his parents. He shirked his responsibilities.
The apocalypse doesn’t change that, doesn’t give him a free pass to
show up now to be
father
of the
year.

“You’ve grown up so much,” he remarks toward
Reagan.

“Yeah, well, Grandpa and Grams fed us, so
that’s kind of what happens to kids,” she replies with
antagonism.

“Let’s go home, everyone,” Grandpa orders
sternly.

Reagan knows he doesn’t want to get
into this in the middle of the street in town. He’s always been a
private person. Airing their
dirty
family
laundry on Main Street isn’t exactly going to
please him, and he knows how she feels about the
Colonel.

“I’m with some people,” her father says.

“Oh?” Grandpa asks.

“They’re with me,” he explains.

Her father must catch the look that Derek
shoots Grandpa because he quickly expands with, “They’re safe. They
aren’t a danger.”

John and Derek also exchange a look. Grandpa
will have to be the one to authorize the new people onto his farm.
It is, after all, his farm. And her father is obviously road wary
enough to realize that they aren’t going to just take in strangers
without them being vetted by him.

“How many?” John asks, earning an expression
of curiosity from her father as if he is wondering who John might
be.

“Just three, four counting myself,” the
Colonel answers. “A woman and two young people.”

“We’ll make some room
at
the farm until we can figure this
out. Others have stayed on the farm until we were able to find them
an empty house in town. I don’t see a problem,” Grandpa says,
looking for similar opinions from John and
Derek,
who both nod.

Reagan isn’t as sure of this plan.
For
all
she could care about her
withered-looking old father, he could stay in town. He’s obviously
had a tough go of it since the country fell because he damn near
looks older than Grandpa.

“Yes, sir,” the Colonel answers her
grandfather.

“Just follow us, Robert,” Grandpa says.
“We have some of the property booby-trapped, so it’s dangerous
unless you go in the right way. If you get lost from us, just go
in
behind
the Johnson’s farm on
that oil well road. That’ll bring you all the way
in to
the back of our farm now. The
road’s completely blocked. This is the only safe way
in.”

“Got it,” he agrees and heads back to his
shitty bus.

He follows them back to the clinic where they
pile into the truck. Derek drives with Sue wedged between him and
Grandpa in the front seat. John and she ride in the back seat
together where he clasps her hand tightly. He knows she needs his
strength right now. He always knows when she needs him and when she
just needs him to back off.