The McClane Apocalypse: Book Two (49 page)

“Maryanne is inside. Our situation here has changed...”

“Yeah, no shit, man. Who are all these dudes with guns?” Peter asks contemptuously.

“They’re family, Peter. You and your friends will need to move on and seek shelter elsewhere,” Doc says, which is enough for Kelly, but the screen door creaks open behind them.

“Peter? Is that you?” Grams’s soft voice asks.

Now they’re fucked. Kelly doesn’t turn but hears Hannah also come onto the porch, damn her! This is no place for her; she could get hurt or shot. She comes up behind him and presses herself tightly to his side, her face half hiding in his bicep, her hand lacing at his side with his own. She makes no attempt to come out completely from behind him and for that he’s glad.

“Stay behind me, Hannah. There’s a lot of men out there,” he orders her, and she nods against his arm.

“Peter was just saying hello and now he needs to leave,” Derek tells Grams, earning a dirty glare from Grams’s brother.

“Just leaving? But he just got here, Herb,” Grams says with a cordial delight that only she feels.

“We don’t have the room or the resources to take care of this many people, Maryanne,” Doc tells her loudly enough that the whole group can hear.

“Hey, we can take care of ourselves. You aint gotta take care of us. We got our own food and supplies in the RV’s,” Peter pleads and points to the mammoth vehicles.

“No, I don’t think so, Peter,” Doc stays firm.

Kelly catches movement over by John and sees Reagan has also joined the group. John’s arm shoots out to stop her from passing him, and he then he swoops her behind him. She doesn’t argue, though. Her .45 is drawn.

“But we got sick people with us, too. Women and kids, Herb. You’re a doctor, man. We need your help,” Peter begs, using the women and children argument. “My girlfriend’s sick, and so is one of the kids.”

Kelly doesn’t miss- and he’s sure that Derek and John and maybe even Doc probably also don’t miss- that the vagabond men of this motley group have not failed to take notice of Hannah and Reagan. One of the shorter white men actually makes a comment to the very large black man next to him, making them both chuckle quietly. Kelly will shoot these two first if Doc or Derek gives the order. He may shoot them without the order.

Doc looks at Kelly, and Kelly instantly knows this is gonna turn for the worse. He knows that Herb McClane is never going to turn away sick women and kids. Apparently that puke, Peter, knew it, too. Shit.

“What’s wrong with them? And where are they?” Derek bellows with increasing impatience.

“In the vehicle, man. Come on out here!” Peter shouts into the door. “Come on, get out here! Move your ass, woman!”

This guy is a dick. Why doesn’t he go in and help them if they are so sick? Who would yell like that at sick women and kids? Yeah, a dick.

A young girl, probably in her teens and very thin, carries an even younger boy down the stairs who is obviously too big to be carried especially by someone as small and frail as her. She is trailed by another child who is apparently an identical twin to the other boy. Soon after, a pregnant woman barely manages to make it down the steps before Peter yanks her arm. She stumbles to the ground, and he pulls her roughly upright again. She appears to be too weak to even stand on her own like the boy. She coughs something terrible, almost falls down again and holds her chest and then her distended belly.

“Damn,” Doc says under his breath.

“Herb, we can’t turn them away. That woman is pregnant like our Sue was, and she’s sick. And that little, blessed boy looks terrible, my love,” Grams remarks. Doc pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Take Hannah inside, Maryanne. Go on now,” he urges gently, and Grams actually listens.

Hannah squeezes his hand tightly before releasing it. Kelly doesn’t take his eyes off the crowd awaiting a decision. He’s ready to shoot any of them if need be to protect the farm, and he knows that John and Derek are, too. Hell, even Reagan probably is.

“Bring the men in, Kelly.”

Kelly gives a quick whistle and a hand signal. Derek and John back up toward the front of the house, and Reagan climbs up over the railing at the end of the porch like a damn monkey. Doc wants to make a decision, but he doesn’t want it discussed where these visitors can hear.

“That woman is very sick and so is the child,” Doc observes.

“Yeah, we saw sickness in the city that looked like that. That’s how we got the rugrat,” Reagan remarks rather stoically for being in a possible bad situation.

Apparently the trip to the city had been eventful if she is so cool and collected while two bus-loads of virtual strangers are sitting on her farm. She’s obviously seen a lot, grown harder as a soldier. Her eyes are guarded but battle-weary. He’s seen this look many times.

“Others could also be sick since they are traveling together, and they could get people here sick,” Derek adds. Doc nods with a grimace. He knows and understands the risk of letting them stay.

“Yes, I realize that. But if we don’t help them, then it could speak to our own lack of humanity,” Doc says thoughtfully as he continues to draw on his pipe.

“I don’t like how many men they have with them. Where would they all stay?” Kelly asks the group as Sue comes onto the porch.

John suggests, “They’d have to stay in those motorhomes, and we’d have to keep an eye on them at all times. Maybe make them move back down the lane out by the equipment shed, so they aren’t too close to the house. And I don’t like how many men there are, either. I’ve counted six or seven. Could be a problem.”

“They said they’re out of ammo,” Sue comments.

“Could be lying,” her little sister adds smartly. Reagan isn’t just book smart. Kelly’s thinking about adopting her as his sister for this one short comment alone.

“We do a check in their vehicles to make sure they aren’t armed, or they can’t stay,” Derek says.

“They can’t be allowed to drain our resources. They would need to stay out of our buildings and the house and the garden, even though it’s almost done now,” Sue adds with more toughness than Kelly had thought her capable. She has a lot to lose with being responsible for her two kids and a new baby, though, and she stands firm. Another potential sister.

“Agreed,” John says. “We won’t make it through the winter if they stay on and eat our food and move in. There’s just too many of them.”

“No, that’s not even an option,” Doc agrees. “They’ll need to stay in their own small area and once we get the sick better, then they need to move on immediately.”

“That could be a couple weeks, Grandpa. She could have the flu or a respiratory virus or something that could take a while to get over, and that skinny kid’s coughing, too. He doesn’t look too hot, either. Plus, she’s pregnant. What are we gonna do? Throw them out knowing she’s going to have a baby?” Reagan asks with all the right reasoning that nobody wants to hear. John jumps in, as well.

“They could hole up in one of those suburban mansions where we raided. It’s only a few miles away, and they could bring her back here when she goes into labor. I wouldn’t suggest the condo units until we have time to assess whether or not they’d be a threat to those people we have established there. And I don’t want you or Reagan going to them when she has the baby, not if you’re going to have your backs to the rest of them all day with a woman in labor,” John says to Doc, and Reagan looks at him strangely. If she is of a different opinion, then she keeps it to herself.

Her grandfather sighs, looks out at the new people and finally says, “We’ll tell them that they can stay a couple of days until they’re healthier, and then they can move on. They can park over by the edge of the driveway in the grassy area there on the other side of the equipment shed, and we’ll need them to understand that none of them is to free range around here. Let’s tell them and then Reagan and I will take the sick ones to the med shed if it’s just those two. If any of the men are sick, then they’ll have to wait. Derek, you and John and Kelly keep an eye on the rest of them until we’re done with the sick people. Then we’ll convene for a family meeting in the dining room. We can put Cory at Reagan’s window on the third floor to keep watch on them till we’re done. Agreed? Anyone have anything to add?” Doc asks. Nobody comments and Doc nods as the men separate again.

“We’ve decided that you can stay, Peter,” Doc says, and the dick brother of Grams blows out a big sigh of relief. “But only until the sick are well enough to travel again. The men will check the RV’s for weapons and if any of you is lying and hiding loaded weapons in there, then you’ll be asked to leave. You’ll move those vehicles to where the men tell you that they can be parked for a few days, and you’ll not come onto the property, or into any of the barns or in the house. If those terms aren’t acceptable, then you all need to leave now.”

None of them puts up an argument, and good old Uncle Peter says nothing. He’s not completely stupid, after all. Peter’s face falls when he hears that staying on permanently is not part of the bargain, but he doesn’t try to argue or plead his case further.

Doc continues, “That girl there can help the pregnant woman and the sick child to the back where Reagan and I can look at them.”

The other men and the two women who aren’t sick are quiet, as well, but exchange a lot of unreadable looks between each other. The teenage girl, of whom Doc is referring, glances nervously at Peter before moving, and he gives her an irritated nod. Why the hell would this young girl have to look to him for permission to help the pregnant woman and child, both of whom are ill? And why the hell does she look so scared of him?

“Reagan,” Doc says to the little Doc, and together they go into the house to collect what they might need for the shed.

John points the teen girl toward the med shed behind the house and when Uncle Peter tries to follow, John levels the M16 on him and shakes his head. He’s never been much of a talker when the shit hits the fan. He is more like a silent predator, a death machine, Doctor Death. Uncle Peter doesn’t know what a killing machine his friend is and how he never gave a shit who he had to kill. Uncle Peter would do well to learn this lesson about John, and quickly.

“Let’s get this shit over with,” Derek says.

“Yeah, maybe we’ll get lucky and get to shoot some of them,” Kelly returns as Derek nods and grimaces.

Kelly keeps watch on the visitors, who they herd into a tight circle in the yard, while John and Derek do a thorough check of their weapons and a pat down of the people. They find two pistols and a shotgun, which they confiscate, but no ammunition whatsoever.

“He told you we aint got no ammo. Not like you guys got there,” one of the uncle’s friends says to John in a condescending tone.

He’s also eyeing up Kelly’s weapon the same way he had looked at Kelly’s woman, which makes him want to shoot this jerk.

“And you won’t. Not while you’re here,” Kelly tells the man, who has a long reddish-brown beard and yellowish, tinted eyeglasses. The man looks away from Kelly, his bravado gone, but there is a certain amount of unconcealed resentment in his eyes.

“Doc and Grams may be letting you stay a few days, but any of you step outta line and we’ll fuckin’ shoot you in the head. I promise you that. You stay to your assigned area and don’t come near the house,” Derek swears. He’s not joking, and they look to believe him.

Two of the men, the Mexican and the larger of the two black men, still appear to have an attitude, so Kelly takes a purposeful step toward them. They are bigger than the other men, but still not as big as Kelly. And they are soft bodied and underweight. However, they have a feral desperation about them. The whole group of people seems underweight, especially the teen girl, the tall red-haired teen boy and the two young twins. One of the women steps forward, and she has a look about her that men like to refer to as rode hard and put away wet. She’s a real bar floozy type.

“Hey, big guy. Don’t get all worked up. We don’t mean no harm. We’re cool. Right guys?” she asks the men in her group who nod or look at their feet.

Her dark hair is stringy and dirty. Her clothes match the hair. She’s missing a few teeth either from being knocked out or from the over-use of a crack-pipe. Kelly suspects the latter.

“My name’s Amber. What’s yours?” she asks and steps another foot closer to Kelly.

“Move these heaps of shit over by the shed in the grass and stay away from the house. Anyone comes near the house, he gets shot. Or she,” Kelly tells her and she scowls and turns away with a bitchy attitude.

“No problem, man. We heard the first time. You don’t gotta tell us twice. Come on, guys, let’s go,” says one of the smaller, more passive men who has a shaved head that is covered in tattoos.

He’s an ex-con, and he’s squirrely, shifty. It took Kelly about ten seconds to figure it out. He’s probably not the only one in the group who has a prison record by the looks of them. The Latino man has a tear drop below his left eye, and Kelly knows that’s a popular prison brand.

The group piles into the vehicles and move them to where they’ve been allotted space and immediately begin setting up camp. It’s far enough from the farmhouse that they won’t interfere with the family but where they will also be easily monitored. Kelly and Derek sit on the rockers on the front porch and watch them as John perches on the top board of the railing.

“Where’d you send Cory?” Kelly asks after his young brother.

“Had him take the kids to the cattle barn in case the crap went south,” John answers. “I’ll go get him. Gotta check on Jacob anyways.”

John leaves before either he or Derek has a chance to ask him who the hell Jacob is. The poor guy just came back from his trip and here he is dealing with this shit already. He looks dead on his feet, but he jogs away, not missing a beat.

“This isn’t gonna end well. I just got that old feeling, you know?” Derek asks calmly as he bites at his thumb nail. He’s a cool cucumber, always has been.

“That old feeling is feeling a little too current if you know what I mean. We’re gonna have to seriously step up security and patrols now. Those creeps took a couple long looks at Hannah and Reagan and then Sue when she came out, too,” Kelly confides.