Reagan sits docilely while her sister puts her unruly, wet curls into one long, thick braid and then twists and ties it into some sort of knot at the base of her neck. It is the first time John has seen Reagan without her messy locks hanging in her face. He appreciates that as much as her hair is phenomenal, it’s a shame to hide a face like hers- even with the scar that takes up most of her right cheek. It can’t take away from the fact that she has an intoxicating visage that he could stare at all day, although he can tell she doesn’t like him to.
“John? Did you hear me?” Kelly asks.
“What?” he asks embarrassed. Reagan eyes him, which makes him even more uncomfortable, so he turns back to the water. If he keeps staring at Reagan the way he is, then his boxer briefs will soon leave little to the imagination.
“I was saying we need to have a final meeting to go over what we need before you two ride to the city,” he repeats.
“Oh, yeah sure, man. We can tell Doc and have a meeting,” he answers.
“I think that’s best, and we need to add on to the list the stuff we know we need to do the surveillance system and to make demo charges- if you can even find anything left for that. It’s not like we’re gonna get C4 anywhere. There’s enough people out there who know what that stuff is for, so anything like that is going to be gone already,” Kelly reflects. “You are starting to burn, Hannah.” He takes a second to hand Hannah his discarded shirt, which she puts on over her head with his assistance. He’s noticed his friend and the way he is with Hannah, but Kelly’s hard to get a bead on. He’s a very stoic, reserved man, nothing like John.
“Good, I hope all the shit to blow stuff up is gone, and these idiots blow themselves to hell. Less morons for us to worry about,” Reagan says icily as she swings her toes into and back out of the cool water below them because it is obviously better than just sitting still.
“As long as they don’t use them against us,” Cory, who is normally shy and quiet, adds in. He’s a very withdrawn boy, and it worries John and Kelly that he isn’t dealing well with what he’s been through. Of course, how could he blame the kid for not handling it? He lost both parents in one night, lost his friends, his way of life, his home and heck, maybe even a girlfriend if he had one. Everyone had been dealt an unfair hand in this, but John feels worse for all the kids. They have no way of comprehending any of it.
“Agreed, dude. But we do need to do some fortifying. I think barbed wire at the driveway entrance concealed by tree limbs and foliage is a good idea, too,” John adds.
“There are still a lot of defense ideas we need to go over with the doc, so we should get it all worked out before you make the trip to the city,” Kelly concludes. His friend stands and pulls on his fatigue pants and combat boots, leaving his shirt to Hannah. Then his gentle giant of a friend pulls Hannah easily to her feet but releases her hand as soon as she’s stable. He quickly looks away from her, but not before John catches his friend’s gaze hovering a second too long on Hannah’s cleavage.
“Let’s see if we can’t meet after dinner tonight and we’ll...” John is interrupted as he is putting his dirty jeans back on.
Three long blasts of a vehicle’s horn can be heard in the distance.
Reagan
“Something’s wrong,” Hannah says intuitively. John and Kelly both jump to their feet and take off for the house. Kelly grabs his rifle, propped against a tree, as they leave the lake, and John straps his gun belt onto his waist. He withdraws the pistol, though.
“Hannah, have Cory help with the kids and come back with him. I’m going with them,” Reagan tells her sister.
“Yes, ma’am,” Cory answers for Hannah and immediately begins calling the kids and packing up their towels.
“Reagan, be careful,” Hannie calls after her, and Reagan looks over her shoulder to see Cory helping Hannah to her feet.
She sprints twenty yards behind John and Kelly, and they continue to pull ahead of her. When they get to the back of the house, they split up and each goes around opposite sides toward the front. Reagan follows in John’s path. When she makes it to the front, John and Kelly have met up with Grandpa who is standing beside a beat up, red pick-up truck. She instantly recognizes the driver.
As she joins the group, the conversation is in full swing.
“They just overran us, Doc,” Billy Reynolds says. “Dad said to go and get help. There’s like thirty of ‘em, sir.” He is one of the youngest sons of the dairy farmer who lives nearest the McClane farm. There is a cut on his forehead, soot on his cheek, and he’s clearly in shock. His beefy hands shake badly. His sentences blur together and are barely comprehensible.
“Calm down, son. Just slow down and tell us what happened,” Grandpa tells him. His voice is like a smooth, soothing tonic. She’s heard this tone so many times over the years in his office. Derek has joined the group, and Kelly whispers the details of what he’s heard to him while the conversation continues.
“We were makin’ hay yesterday and... and these guys in trucks... and mom... they shot my mom,” he cries. His chin quivers; there are tears rolling down his cheeks. “Jesus, Doc, they just shot her on the front porch. So we ran in the house and got our shotguns and our dad, and we’ve been holed up there since yesterday. They tried to burn us out, but they couldn’t. Shot up a bunch of our cows, though. Dad took a bullet trying to protect mom- he’s not good, Doc. Not good,” Billy explains with anguish. Reagan believes he is closest to her in age, but she’s not sure. It’s been a few years since she’s had any interaction with any of the neighbors because of her school schedule and limited visits home.
“Where is your family now, Billy?” Grandpa asks.
“They’re still holed up in the house. Dad sent me to get help, and this is the only place I figured I’d make it to. I know the Johnsons left their farm. Went north we heard. Yours is the only place I knew to go,” Billy says.
“How did you get out?” John asks firmly.
“Snuck out when they went shootin’ the cows. They was just laughin’ and shootin’ our cows. How sick is that? Got in this truck we keep out behind the chicken coop. Didn’t even know if it was gonna start for me. But it did. I was able to sneak out the back lane- you know the oil well road that takes you out to Pickett Run? Then I high tailed it over here,” he explains.
“How many of you are there?” Kelly asks.
“It’s just me, Dad, Wayne and his wife, Bertie, and Chet,” Billy informs them. His eyes are wide, frantic with fear. Reagan knows that Wayne and Chet are his brothers.
“Are they safe where they are for now?” Kelly asks. Where is he going with this? He apparently doesn’t care to find out who all those people are to Billy. He just needs a head count.
“What? No, man. They aint ok. We’re under attack!” Billy cries hysterically.
“Look, dude, we understand that. Are they safe for the next couple of hours?” John asks more definitively.
“Um, yeah, I guess. But they’re pinned down. They’re pinned down real good in that house,” the young man exclaims.
“Not for long they’re not,” John tells him reassuringly. There’s an intensity in John’s eyes that Reagan has never seen before. It’s unnerving at best. This must have been the way he looked while he was in the Army. Serious, intense, unlike the John she’s come to know who is never serious about anything. He and Kelly look at each other as something unspoken passes between them.
“Meet us in the dining room. Let’s go,” Kelly says to the other two men, and the three of them jog to the house. She is gullible enough to believe he means her and Grandpa, too, and she follows after them. Grandpa is giving Billy instructions on where to park the truck as Reagan leaves.
Sue has come onto the porch and is cradling Isaac in her arms. Grams stands close beside her. The men rush past them and disappear into the house without saying anything.
“Reagan, what’s going on?” Sue asks concerned.
“The Reynolds’s farm is under attack. Billy got out to find help and came to us. That’s all I know so far. I think the guys are going over there,” Reagan explains as Cory and Hannah finally round the corner. The children have been sent elsewhere because they are alone, and Cory is holding on to Hannah and has procured a shotgun from somewhere that he also carries.
She explains the situation again to Cory and Hannah, who is clearly frightened. Billy joins them as Grandpa goes to find the men.
“Let’s all go inside,” Grams offers gently, putting an arm around the young man. “Billy, when was the last time you ate something?” Of course.
Reagan, Sue and Hannah join the men in the dining room where the pocket doors have been pulled shut. They all look up but say nothing when the women enter. A large piece of paper is on the table, and the men are discussing the situation while Grandpa draws things out.
“The house is situated here. There’s a really long loafing shed here- that’s a cow barn that is open on either end with mesh wiring for windows all the way down. It’s gotta be close to half a football field long. And the milking barn... here,” he tells them, pointing with his crooked index finger. Grandpa is sketching out a rough lay-out of the Reynolds farm and pointing to different items on the paper. John, Derek and Kelly are rapt with attention and commenting things to each other about suppressive fire and diversionary tactics. “There’s an old corn crib here, a milking parlor here that faces the house and it’s a concrete building- might be good place for cover.” He doesn’t even question whether or not the three soldiers in the family are going there. Everyone knows they are.
The women sit quietly, and soon Billy joins the group with Grandma. He’s carrying a sandwich, and the cut on his forehead now sports a clean white bandage.
“Billy, how armed are you guys and, more importantly, how well can you shoot?” Derek asks with serious intent. The laugh lines around her brother-in-law’s mouth deepen.
“I can shoot pretty good, sir. We all deer hunt every fall, so we’re ok, not great, but ok. And Dad shot one of those guys. And Wayne, my oldest brother, shot two. But we’re real low on ammo,” Billy answers.
“Take a look over here at this drawing. Is there anything we’re missing?” John orders him.
“Uh, yeah, there’s a barn over in this area. It’s the equipment shed. Open in the front, no doors. There’s a smaller, calf barn over here by the milking parlor. Also a garage, three car, nearer to the house here. And the silo by the dairy barn,” Billy informs them as he finishes his sandwich. He’s a big, beefy farm boy. His face and arms are tanned almost to a red burn from working in the fields all the time, his hair bleached white from the sun.
“How many are left, Billy?” John asks as he marks something on the makeshift map.
“I’m not sure exactly. There was three pick-up trucks full of ‘em, though. We counted twenty-seven for sure,” he answers as his eyes dance nervously around at the soldiers in the room.
“But you took out three, right?” Derek reconfirms.
“Right and I might’ve tagged one, but I didn’t kill him,” he answers.
At this point Derek, Kelly and John go into strategic military planning on how they’ll approach the complex of the neighbor’s farm and start using strange lingo and terminology that no one in the room is familiar with.
“What did they do last night when it got dark? Did they camp out? Hide in the barns? Go to sleep? What?” John asks with less patience. He’s tense, serious, a line marking between his brows. Reagan’s definitely never seen him like this.
“No, they didn’t do any of that stuff. They built a big bonfire in the front yard using wood from the barns and our wood pile. They were hooting and hollerin’ and drinking, and I think they were doin’ drugs, too. I aint too familiar with that stuff. Dad woulda’ killed us if we ever did drugs, but me and Chet figured that’s what they were doing,” he answers proudly.
“Good, that’s actually good that they built a bonfire. And then what? Did they crash? Fall asleep?” Derek prompts. The soldiers seem to all be on the same page with their strange line of questioning.
“Yeah, around dawn they got quieter. Didn’t last long, though. Started shootin’ at the house again,” the young man answers. His eyes are drawn, haggard.
“Grams, why don’t you take Billy to the basement? Let him get a few hours of sleep,” John tells her grandmother.
“Whoa, wait! I thought you guys were gonna help me,” he complains. His face grows stressed and pinched with worry.
“We are, dude. But we’ll just get you or one of us killed if we go blasting back over there now in broad daylight. We’ll leave in a few hours before dark,” Kelly tells him. Billy’s face becomes more complacent, and the last bit of energy leaves his body as he looks ready to collapse. He agrees to follow Grams to the basement. As soon as he is gone with her, the planning phase kicks in, and the men kick into high gear.
“We go in through the back on horseback,” John states.
“Yeah, come in from behind the farm. They wouldn’t expect anyone to be back there in the dark,” Derek agrees readily.
“We flank the house. They’re set up out front. May or may not have men in the back or in the barns. We can’t be too sure,” Kelly says and points to an area on the map with his big index finger.
“Right. Derek, you set up here in the milking parlor,” John says. Derek nods. He has the most to lose, and they all know it. His position in the milking parlor will be the safest. Reagan has inched closer and is peering around Grandpa’s right shoulder at the paper.
“I’ll come in through here,” John points a long tan finger at the corn crib. “I’ll have the equipment shed on my right and the corn crib on my left. It’ll be hard to hit me if I’m in between the two buildings, and I can pick them off easier from that vantage point.”
“And I’ll take point. I’ll come down the side of this cow barn and head in toward the house. Try to take out a few guys in the process. I think we should put that kid in the silo. It’s gotta be made out of concrete or something. He’d be protected,” Kelly suggests, referring to Billy.
“Yes, I think that’s a good idea. Billy can stay in the silo, and we’ll push in on counter maneuvers and converge on them. Use the house for cover when you get closer on them. John, you will probably be able to move in using the garage once it starts,” Derek adds. “We’ll go on horseback on that path you told me about, John. The one that Reagan showed you that leads over there?”