The McClane Apocalypse Book Nine

By Kate Morris

As the saga continues, the McClane family must deal with the highwaymen for good, but despite their well-planned strategies and meetings, they find that time and again the group is one step ahead of them and will not be so easily defeated. Finding their hidden lairs will prove only half the battle, and in the end, they discover that others could be conspiring against them and working with their enemy to defeat them.

The arrival of Robert McClane’s doctors and scientists will significantly improve their chances of finding a cure for the Scarlet Fever ravaging the children of their village, but with more people comes significant complications that could potentially upset the balance of the family.

And the conflict between Cory and his best friend lingers as he tries to find a way to help Simon learn to forgive him and resolve their issues. Except for the only problem Simon has isn’t just Cory. His own struggles to win back Sam and convince her to return to the farm is the most difficult task he’s faced yet. It leaves some of them wondering if harmony will ever visit their farm again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Morris
• Release date: Jul 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463334010

Kate Morris

Kate lives in Ohio on a small farm with "John" and is a huge advocate for the U.S. military and promotes the rights of gun owners everywhere.

Book preview

The McClane Apocalypse

Book Nine

Kate Morris

2018

Ranger Publishing

Copyright © 2018 by Ranger Publishing

Note to Readers: This publication contains the opinions and ideas of its author. It is not intended to provide helpful or informative material on the subjects addressed in the publication. The author and publisher specifically disclaim all responsibility for any liability, loss or risk personal or otherwise.

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Manufactured in the United States of America

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file

ISBN 13: 978-1720484837

ISBN 10: 978-17204843X

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank the fans of The McClane Apocalypse for supporting the series and following this family. Also, thank you for giving my Detective Lorena Evans thriller series a chance and supporting it, too!

Kate

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Epilogue

Chapter One

Cory

Move your asses! Kelly yells through an open mic at the men on his team who are reporting to him.

Cory observes helplessly from the building where he was told to hold his position until instructed otherwise. It is frustrating watching his brother taking fire a few hundred yards away and in danger while he is stuck picking off stragglers and those who try to flee or come at them from the rear. The attacking force is busy seeing all the action while he and Simon, along with Dave’s sniper and two more of his men, are acting as a blocking force and sniping losers who run. He’s not sure how long he can remain passive while this continues. That ticking in his head is as loud as if he were standing in the clock tower of Big Ben listening to it chime out its cadence marking the hour. It is hard to suppress that need within himself to destroy.

Push forward, John orders his own team at the other end of their planned ambush. Cory isn’t working with him, either.

It is not going as well as the other times they’ve done this. The loud bark of a long-range shot from the other side of the road- Dave’s sniper, Lucky- rings out in the night air. Another man in the road falls to his death, but they are fighting a larger group tonight.

Do not retreat! John is commanding with authority, audible in Cory’s earpiece. Keep moving.

His friend’s voice is not frantic, and John probably doesn’t feel panic, but Cory is getting antsy. He needs to be a lot more involved in this. Not much rattles John, though. He is as calm and relaxed as if he were still back at the farm baling hay on one of the old tractors.

Incoming, Simon says beside him.

Cory is working with the Professor to keep the enemy at bay. Last week they’d taken on a smaller group northwest of Dave’s town, Hendersonville, and got themselves flanked. It all worked out in the end, but they hadn’t been too keen on the idea of their enemy calling for backup and flanking them. It had pissed Cory off actually.

He spies through his night-vision binoculars and sees what Simon has spotted. There are men coming out of a building closer to the end of the perimeter where he and Simon are hiding out. This battle is different than what they’ve done before. The highwaymen stopped taking their bait of the broken-down car routine. As a matter of fact, the creeps have mostly been hitting the remnants of towns or small, newly-formed villages. The McClanes believe that their tactics have worked too well, and they’ve pushed them off the highways and main roads. People traveling on those roads are safer now, but the ones living in towns are more at risk. It seems with these assholes that they just can’t win.

Tonight, they are in a railroad yard where so many huge, diesel engines and freight cars have sat abandoned for years, rusting away with time and left behind without a conductor or engineer to bring them back to life. The building in which he and Simon are concealed is perfect, though, not because it is old but because it is solid brick. No streetlamps illuminate the night for them, and a misty fog has set in, making it difficult to see.

A round pings off one of the big engines parked twenty yards in front of them.

I’m counting at least a dozen, Simon announces quietly. Hundred and fifty yards out.

Cory nods, Yeah, I’d say the same.

Close to the hornet’s nest, his friend says.

Right, Cory agrees. Although Dave’s team reported back that they did not find occupants in the former mansion homes of the used car dealer and the senator, they still believe that they are based in this area. It would be easy to send reinforcements from a central command base, as Simon is suggesting.

We’ve got about a dozen hostiles down here, Cory relays to his brother and waits for Kelly to answer.

Affirmative, he says a moment later, gunfire in the background. I’ll head your way.

Permission to engage, Cory requests.

Wait for me if you can, Kelly says. Give me five, over.

Yes, sir, Cory answers and looks at Simon.

Are we waiting?

Cory smirks, What do you think?

Simon sighs hard and nods, Alright, I’m with you.

I know. You’re my best bud, he teases his friend, who is still sore with him and barely speaks to Cory unless he has to.

I’ll try not to friendly-fire on you, Simon jeers.

Cory chuffs and rises from his squatted position to head out, Nah, you love me. You’d never shoot me in the back.

Maybe in the ass, give you an Easy Company.

Cory smiles, knowing his friend is referring to so many of the shootings in the butt that the 101st Airborne, Easy Company, from WWII took while fighting across the whole of Europe. John and Kelly were the first ones to tell them of the story. Then Dave the Mechanic lent the book The Band of Brothers to Cory, who, in turn, lent it to Simon when he was finished. It was a fantastic read. Then he found a few more books written about that group of brave young men at the library thanks to Mrs. B. There is so much to learn about war from studying past battles, skirmishes, and wars.

You’ll patch me right up, Cory teases his friend. I have faith in you, brother.

Beings I detest you, that conclusion is not a very prudent one, Simon corrects as he, too, rises to go make war on some assholes.

Nerd, he jokes.

Idiot, Simon returns without missing a beat.

Cover me?

Maybe, Simon threatens and flees to the metal staircase that will take him up to the second floor where he’ll have a better line of fire at men and will provide cover for Cory, who can take his battle to the ground.

He smiles as his friend retreats into darkness, consumed by it and swallowed whole. Cory just hopes Simon finds it in his heart to forgive him someday. His friendship is too important to Cory to throw away because of what happened with Paige. Although he hadn’t meant harm to come of their hidden relationship, Cory knows what he did was wrong and that he somehow has to make amends for what he’s done.

Cory’s smile fades as he rushes through the building and exits on the other side. He will flank the men coming toward them. It should cause them to panic, probably scatter, and will be much easier to deal with in the end. They’d gotten lucky and were tipped off to this hideout these men were using. North of them just outside of Nashville, a group of people in a very small village told one of Dave’s scouts about this place and that they were pretty sure some of the highwaymen were using it to hide out when they traveled through town. It was a good lead. They surveilled the rail yard and found evidence of the men a few days ago. They’ve been camped out in the woods nearby ever since waiting for them to return. Tonight that had happened. John had called in for Dave and his group to meet them, and they’d brought a few men from Hendersonville, as well. With the intel they’d gathered, they knew they were up against seventy-five or so men. Thankfully, this was only a meeting place and a shelter when they worked the area, and no women were involved or present tonight from what they’ve seen.

He jogs carefully in the dark to the other side of a permanently parked locomotive, remembering all the times as a young boy that he enjoyed playing with toy trains. Tonight is not a game but a fight for his life. Cory hops over the iron rails in front of the lead car and lands in the gravel on the other side of the tracks. Then he sprints as silently as possible toward the men heading their way. Gravel crunches under his boots, but Cory keeps moving at a fast click. At the second to the last train car, he climbs up into it through an open, sliding door and creeps quietly to the other side. He works the lever and cracks the door slightly open, letting it slide on its rusty hinges. It makes more noise than he wants.

Voices nearby let him know how close they are, and he keeps himself concealed behind the wall of the boxcar. The men’s conversation grows louder, and Cory holds his breath as they pass right by the train car without detecting him. They are obviously thinking they are going to flank John and Kelly by the tone of their conversation and the hushed scheming of a piss poor plan.

He whispers into his mic, Fire at will, Professor. I’m in position.

Simon’s response is almost immediate as a round cracks clear and loud through the night, followed by men yelling in chaos.

He pushes the door slightly farther open and sights in on the first one he sees. The man is running carelessly toward Cory, so he opens fire, disabling the target. Then the panic he predicted takes hold, and the crowd disperses as they realize they’ve been spotted, flanked, and are now being picked off from multiple angles.

Cory spots another running parallel with the train toward the warehouse where Simon is located. Cory aims and squeezes, hitting the man in the back of his thigh. He falls and rolls to his right where Cory cannot see him anymore. It doesn’t matter. He can’t worry about him. The wound is severe. He may even bleed out from it. All that matters is that he is down.

Shots are being fired toward the general direction of the train, but nothing comes even close to him. They aren’t sure where he is hiding just yet, so he takes full advantage and fires again at a third man, who is thin and very tall. It’s not a good characteristic to have in the middle of a firefight, standing out in a crowd like that. Cory wings him in the right shoulder, causing him to spin in a one-eighty and fall backward against another man. Then Cory shoots him, too, and finishes off the tall one with another quick squeeze. He no longer holds onto his friend but drops away dead from his wounds. The shot on the second one isn’t clean, but it causes him to go down with the tall man. Then an all-out barrage of gunfire comes directly toward the train car, so he hits the deck, belly crawls to the opposite door that is still open, and slides out, landing on his side on the ground.

Cory jumps to his feet and squats behind the heavy steel wheels and waits for the gunfire to slow down. In a rail yard like this, bullets hitting just about anything other than a human body will ricochet and ping against metal of one sort or another. Like clockwork, they all run out of ammo at about the same time, and there is a pause in the fight. He makes his escape and sprints to the end of the train, passing by four more closed boxcars. Then he scoots around the engine and waits at the corner patiently. He takes a quick peek and sees men scattering, running toward the train car where he was hiding. One goes down from a headshot and lands with a sickening slapping sound on the concrete. Others panic and dive for cover behind a yellow pick-up truck with red safety lights on the roof. It must’ve been a vehicle belonging to the rail yard that workers used to drive from one area of the massive operation to another.

Two of the men point to the building where Simon is hiding and killing them. They know his friend is up there.

We’re here, Kelly says into Cory’s earpiece.

I need to deal with some dudes who are about to make a move on the Professor, Cory states.

I don’t need your help, Simon argues.

Cory, take ‘em out, John commands. Simon, hold your position.

A second later, he spots through his night-vision goggles his brother and John as they jog confidently toward the group, laying down a designed firing pattern as they push forward. He makes his move and sprints toward the two who have separated from the group and are in pursuit of Simon.

They’ve disappeared in the commotion, and Cory has a moment of dread that he’s too late, that they’ve moved too quickly and will find his friend in the top of the building. Simon means so much to him, like a brother, and he picks up the pace and locates the rear exit of the building again, the one he’d taken to leave Simon. Gunfire in the distance signifies that the rest of their team is still working on the other men. The shots from his brother and John ring out clearly behind him, but he pushes forward.

He hears a noise off to his left but a moment too late as a man jumps out from behind a train car and swings something. He is hit in the left shoulder, which he partially deflects. He is still knocked back against the boxcar, though. Then the man is on him. He shoves Cory and punches, connecting with his right to Cory’s jaw. It does nothing but piss him off as he is knocked nearly all the way down. He is able to catch himself with one hand and do a rolling maneuver to get away. Before he can stand erect again, the man executes a football tackle, taking him all the way to the ground, which also knocks Cory’s rifle from his hands. The man is big, bigger than him. And he is a skilled fighter. For every move Cory attempts, the man is able to counter.

His assailant lunges away from him and goes for Cory’s rifle. It’s enough time for Cory to pull his knife from his boot. As the man’s hand lands on his AR-10, Cory shoves to his knees and launches onto the man’s back. The attacker instinctively lurches upward trying to dislodge Cory. Unfortunately for him, Cory is able to stab the man in the neck. It doesn’t stop him. He shoves harder and manages to throw Cory off. Then he makes a terrible, wet, gagging sound and scurries away from him on his hands and knees. Blood is spurting from his wound as Cory grabs his rifle. He doesn’t even bother to shoot him. Without a trained medic, and maybe even with one, the wound will prove fatal within minutes. Cory merely gets to his feet again and sprints into the building. There were two men going after Simon. He just hopes that one of them is now bleeding out from a neck wound and that two of them are not still in pursuit but one.

He steps inside the building and, to his immediate left, slips behind a row of tall, metal shelving units. There he pauses and listens. A metallic jangling at the other end of the long building creates a rattling sound as if someone were trying a locked door and not gaining entry. Then whispering comes. There is still more than one of them. The man he just stabbed in the neck must not have been with these others. A loud crack from the floor above echoes in the night, and he knows Simon has shot another person outside. It elicits a less than whispering tone from one of the men at the other end of the building where Cory is slowly creeping.

Fuck! We gotta find that sniper. Assholes.

His partner calls to him, Over here! There’s a stairway.

They have found the dark stairway that Cory took earlier to leave Simon. Instead of caution, he dashes the rest of the way, heedless of noise. In seconds, they will make it to the top of the stairs, enter the massive second-floor warehouse and find Simon. If his friend fires once they are on that floor, he’ll be exposed even more quickly.

Cory spots a man as he is just disappearing through the door and fires a round toward him. A cry of pain lets him know he has connected. The door slamming loudly against the inside wall is also a good thing because it will let Simon know that someone is now below him in the stairwell. The loud shot Cory just fired off will also help with that.

I’m heading your way, Professor, Cory says into his throat mic.

I’m a tad busy for a social call, Simon quips, an unusual move for him in the middle of a battle.

You got one coming up the stairwell. I’ll try to get him before he reaches you, he relays.

You’re getting fat, so you probably won’t.

Cory chuckles as he breaches the door, which is being held open by the man writhing in pain and agony lying in the way. Cory puts him out of his misery with one more trigger pull. It’s a good thing the rail yard is no longer in business. The workers would have one hell of a clean-up job come Monday morning.

The dead man’s friend is noisily clamoring to the top of the stairs. Cory presses his back against the wall and shuffles quickly up after him. He spots him, takes aim, and shoots. It ricochets off the wall with a loud ping. He has missed, and the man above him blasts a short, fully auto spray down at him. Cory presses hard against the wall to avoid the gunfire. Some of it comes close. Most of it ends embedded in the drywall or as a ricochet off of the metal railing and stair treads. It pisses him off, and when it finishes, he speeds up after the man, his rifle held close to his body. The man flies through the door before Cory can get off another shot.

Cory sprints ahead and makes it to the doorway. There he presses flat against the wall, pokes his head around the corner to look for the man, and rushes in hunched over and low. It sounds like the man has kicked something, perhaps an empty bottle, about twenty yards away. Cory stalks forward and pursues the man by noise alone since he has not made a visual on him yet. He comes to the end of an aisle of tall filing cabinets and spots him. The ancient hardwood floor squeaks under his booted feet, and the man quickly spins in the dark toward him. Cory pulls the trigger, and nothing happens. His rifle is jammed. A round goes off, though, from the other man’s rifle.

Fuck, he whispers and throws his rifle at the man, catching him off guard. It hits him hard and square in the chest.

The man cries out in surprise, and Cory charges right at him. Within four giant steps, he is on the man, knocking him to the ground. The man is bulky but not larger than Cory. He unsheathes the dagger from his boot. He stabs, but the motion is blocked by the man beneath him. The bastard shoves and manages to dislodge himself from underneath him. Cory lands on his side, grimaces from pain, which is odd that it should hurt for the amount of force, and rolls. Slipping his sidearm from its hip holster, Cory remains on his back and fires two rounds point blank at the man’s chest. His opponent had the same plan because another stray round goes off, embedding itself in the ceiling above them somewhere. He stumbles backward but doesn’t go down. Cory shoots again because the man is wearing Kevlar. His round misses. It pisses him off. He squeezes the trigger once again and nails the man in the throat, which also wasn’t his intended target.

You done screwing around? Simon’s voice comes through Cory’s earpiece.

I’m saving your ass, Cory returns.

If you’re not too busy playing patty-cakes, I could use a hand, Simon tells him as Cory pushes up.

His hand slips, slides in something wet. He pushes harder and rises to his knee, then springs to his feet. He collects his rifle and the other man’s. Then he rushes to Simon at the front of the building. A loud round is fired, echoing in the building, and he knows his friend is still working.

Watcha’ got? Cory asks as he comes up beside Simon.

Simon relays, Douchebags about a hundred yards out, running between the freight cars…

Got it, Cory says. My rifle jammed, though. Let me clear it.

If you’d clean that piece of shit once in a while, Simon says as Cory frees the jammed round from his rifle.

Thought that was your sister’s job, he jokes. Some armory sergeant.

She probably didn’t clean yours on purpose, Simon jokes as he turns to him. She… oh, crap. Cory, you’re bleeding. Were you shot?

What? he asks distractedly as he tries to sight in on the bastards that Simon has found. Dr. Death, there’s about a dozen assholes forty yards north of your team.

On it, John returns instantly.

Simon slings his pack to the ground, No, I’m serious, Cor. You’re shot.

I’m cool. Let’s just get rid of these dudes. Kelly and John are down there.

Simon pauses for a few seconds. Then he says, Damn it! and raises his rifle up to his shoulder again.

Cory does the same and concentrates on the rats closer to them. Three men are running pell-mell toward the front doors of the building where they are hiding. Cory shoots one in the thigh, and he goes down. The other is taken out by someone else. Probably Kelly. Simon fires off a round. He reloads, jamming another round into the chamber with the bolt, and fires again almost immediately. His friend is a gentle person, kind and soft-spoken most of the time, a bit of a dork, but he can be a deadly threat, too.

Cory, get the hell out of there! Kelly screams into his earpiece. Mortars.

Let’s go, Professor! he yells and yanks Simon’s jacket.

Simon grabs his bag and doesn’t argue. As they are stepping through the doorway and onto the first stair tread to descend, a loud explosion rocks the building. Cory stumbles forward and falls down two stairs before barely righting himself. Simon steps past him, hefts under his armpit, and pulls Cory with him. They rush down the stairs as large debris and rubble rain down on them from the roof.

We’re here, girls, Dave the Mechanic says into their earpieces. Try not to fucking shoot us. I’d like to go home tonight with my fucking dick intact.

Gotta have one in the first place, Mechanic, Kelly razzes over the open mic system.

Not what your wife said last night, Dave returns without missing a beat as shots are fired off in the background.

A grunting sound comes from Kelly’s mic as he says, Hold on. I gotta kill this asshole.

Take your time, Dave quips.

That oughtta settle your ass down, fucker, Kelly remarks a moment later and goes right on with the shit talking. The wife said you whipped it out last night, and she wondered if you were a eunuch.

John says, If you two are done, I could actually use some backup.

Whine, whine, Dave complains.

Kelly adds about John, My Army wife sure is a nag, isn’t he?

Big bitcher, Dave agrees jokingly, then adds, We’re comin’ in.

Cory trips over metal and concrete and brick rubble because his night-vision was knocked off kilter by the blast. The building is not done crumbling around them. Bricks and plaster fall from the ceiling, and they dodge it.

Sit rep, Professor, Kelly inquires.

We’re fine, sir, Simon returns.

Where the hell do they still keep getting heavy artillery? Cory asks Simon.

I think they have a lot more toys than we do.

Let’s get back in this, Cory says as they run out the back door together this time. I’ll head east.

We’ll stick together, Simon argues. You’re shot. I don’t know where or how much blood you’re losing.

Easy, Professor, Cory jokes. I ain’t gut shot. Just a graze.

We’ll stay together.

You just can’t stand to be away from me for five seconds. Face it. You love me.

I just don’t want to hear you crying all night when you get filthy and infected.

Cory laughs, wondering if Simon had seen him fighting with the man near the train tracks. Surely, he’s dirty from that.

Look alive, Simon warns as Cory adjusts his goggles.

Men’s voices crescendo as he and Simon round the building, heading in the opposite direction than Cory took earlier. He spots tell-tale silvery streaks of light about seventy-five yards or so from them.

Anyone using flashlights tonight? he asks into his throat mic.

That’d be a negative, Dave returns. God, I love it when they spotlight themselves.

Cory knows that none of their team is using them, either. Night-vision gear is being used by everyone on John’s team, including the three men from town who are working with them tonight. The people in Pleasant View have taken in so many displaced people because of the highwaymen. Now they want to be involved, as well. Everyone is sick of these assholes.

Let’s flank ‘em, Simon suggests.

Yep, Cory agrees with a nod and follows as Simon leads the way, crawling over the coupling between two train cars. They jog quietly, and Cory hears the tell-tale whistling, whirring sound of an RPG being fired off.

Assholes, he says and speeds up.

I think the flashlight dudes just fired that off, his friend says.

Someone, take those pecker-heads out, Kelly orders into their earpieces.

We’re on it, Cory answers his brother.

Another minute and they have found the men. It isn’t hard. They are rather loud, and they sound frantic and frazzled. For a bunch of terrorists who have been victimizing innocent people with confidence, they seem to be falling apart even more quickly every time they battle it out with them. The chink in their armor has been penetrated, and they know it. Tonight may be slightly more difficult because of the imbalance in their numbers, but they are not more adept at battle or good at making quick changes.

Load it! someone whispers in a fevered tone.

Cory nods to Simon, and they creep ever closer to the men clustered around a Jeep parked there. They are pulling items from the cargo hold that stands open. One thing in particular looks like another RPG.

Go, Simon whispers and sprints to their left to take an advantageous position behind a raised platform constructed of steel. There is a small building on top of the platform, as well, which probably housed an office before the rail yard became a steel graveyard.

Once Simon is in position, Cory nods to him, and they both open fire on the men. Cory is able to take out the one with the RPG, but he does not think Simon hit his mark, which is highly unusual for him. Another round from the Professor and a man goes down. Then he sees someone behind him on the ground, which explains Simon’s first shot. Cory takes aim at another but is unable to squeeze off his shot because they begin firing at them and diving for cover. Cory extends his arm around the corner and fires off a few suppressive rounds to settle them down. Simon does the same, and the men stop shooting at them. Then with perfect timing, he and Simon turn in unison and open fire on the group again. Simon takes out another, and so does Cory. Two additional men run for their lives. Cory does not feel guilty about shooting one in the back. Simon makes a much cleaner shot and kills the other with a headshot.

They regroup and join back up with John and Kelly. This has been their longest battle to date with these highwaymen. They watched them for nearly forty-eight hours before engaging and fought tonight for over an hour. However, another few minutes working alongside John and Kelly and they have the enemy defeated. Then his friend makes him remove his shirt so he can apply bandaging and tape to his shoulder.

John stalks toward him and shouts angrily, Next time I say stick together, you follow my orders!

Cory actually takes a step back. Yes, sir.

You could’ve gotten the Professor killed! You could’ve gotten yourself killed. Don’t be reckless. This isn’t the time for glory hounding. You aren’t on your own anymore, Cory. If I pair you up with someone, stick with them. Stay with your battle buddy next time or stay on the farm!

He walks off in an angry rampage, and Simon laughs at Cory, who punches his shoulder. Kelly chuckles and follows John. He’ll have to find a way to make it up to John. He’s just so used to being out there on his own and having to make decisions on the fly that it’s hard following a plan.

Don’t worry about that, Dave says to him with sympathy. Dr. Death’s just pissed ‘cuz another farm compound was hit a few miles from here by another band of these assholes. Looks like we’re heading there to see what’s left as soon as we’re done here.

He and Simon nod with grave seriousness. This is ridiculous. They thought they were doing something monumental tonight, taking out a large faction of the highwaymen. They didn’t know that other ones were busy doing exactly what they do, just elsewhere. It only renews Cory’s hatred of them.

A few of the highwaymen have escaped according to some of Dave’s men. He sends scouts after them, but Cory knows that they might not recover them. Dave has taken a young man prisoner, and Cory is relieved that he hasn’t been killed because he looks like he’s about fourteen. They collect the weapons of their enemy and take their vehicles, too. Then it’s on to view more carnage.

Chapter Two

Sam

After midnight, Dave’s convoy leads a group of severely injured men back to their compound and to the cabin in the woods that has now become their medical facility. Some of the injured are victims of the highwaymen’s attack tonight on a village near the railroad station. She hadn’t needed to be awakened. Sam was already up, too eager, too anxious to sleep knowing they were all out there in the fray.

Here they come, her uncle says to her as they wait on the porch of the cabin. Sam also spots headlights in the distance.

I’ve prepared the rooms, Doctor, their nurse, Tilly, says.

Thank you, Tilly, he replies kindly, to which she nods and goes back in to keep working. She’s a great nurse, and Sam has learned a lot from her.

Ready, honey? he asks Sam.

Yes, she replies and tries to find some fortitude. She would much rather draw people than sew them back together, which is what they will no doubt be doing soon.

Henry pulls up on a four-wheeler, having cut through the newly forged path from his farm. He hops off and jogs up to the porch.

Doctor, he says and inclines his head to her uncle and then toward her. Samantha.

Hi, Henry, she says. Coming to help?

Yes, ma’am, he agrees with a nod and turns as the vehicles approach.

Within minutes the place is a melee of patients and volunteers and chaos. They’ve brought several wounded victims, survivors of the highwaymen, and three men of Dave’s who will also need put back together. Cory and Simon have even come to help, but the rest of the McClane group has gone back to Pleasant View to take patients to Grandpa and Reagan in town.

Take him to exam room number two in the back, she orders a few of Dave’s men and points in the direction. The injured man is one of their own and has suffered some sort of head trauma and loss of consciousness. His heartbeat is steady but slow.

Sam, go with Simon, her uncle orders and rushes past her to the back of the truck to Dave who is calling him. GSW, so he’ll need help.

She knows he means gunshot wound. She pushes down the urge to refuse and instead follows Simon and Cory up the stairs as they carry a woman on a makeshift stretcher. She is moaning, crying out from the pain of being shot.

Hey, little sister, Cory says to Sam with a slight smile. She’s been shot through the wrist.

Sam winces and looks at the woman’s shaking hands as she is attempting to put pressure on a bandage that has been wrapped around her injury.

Where do you want her, Sam? Simon asks.

Kitchen, she said. The other two rooms are full already.

They rush there together, and the guys lift the woman higher and place her on the exam table, which Henry and his men commandeered from a local hospital. It is no longer a kitchen but has walls and only one wall of cupboards where they keep medical supplies. They now have five exam tables, but only three, closed rooms. Two tables share a space that is curtained off. Tonight, it doesn’t matter. They need to use whatever space they can find.

The woman cries out in agony, It hurts!

I know, ma’am, Simon tells her soothingly. We’re going to get you fixed right up.

You? You’re just kids! she cries with disbelief.

Sam would have to agree. She usually feels completely inept and out of her element in these situations.

No, way! Cory says, trying to make light of the situation. He’s a super nerd. Got his degree in medicine early. You’re in good hands. No worries. He lays on the charm thick when he needs to.

Oh, she said weakly and nodded. Ok then.

I’m out, bro,’ Cory says to Simon. Going back to the truck to help.

Simon just nods dismissively, pulls on latex gloves, and gets to work. He unwraps the woman’s bandage while Sam scoots the medical cart closer where their tools and equipment rest.

Sam, in my bag, there’s a small jar of white powder, he says. Place a half teaspoon in a quarter cup of water and let the patient drink it.

Got it, she says and rummages his backpack, which he’s slung to the floor. She has no idea to what he’s referring but trusts Simon knows what he’s talking about. She finds the jar, a baby food jar, unscrews the lid and wrinkles her nose at the acidic smell of white powder inside. Then she mixes the prescribed dosage with a bit of water and hands it to the patient. However, the lady pulls back as if she doesn’t trust them.

What the hell’s this? she asks.

Pain reducer. It’ll put you in…a euphoric state, so to speak. It’ll dull the pain, ma’am, he explains as he pulls on a surgical gown that Sam swiftly ties in back for him.

What is it? she asks as she sniffs, then moans from pain.

Made from wild lettuce. Rather fascinating actually. The shaft secretes a milky substance that Dr. McClane and I have recently discovered to contain a narcotic-like substance which will…

He drones on long enough that the woman finally relents and downs it with a grimace from the apparently bad taste. As Simon is examining her wound by which Sam is holding a flashlight, the woman’s head lolls to the side. She’s out.

Is she ok? Sam asks with worry and presses her fingertips to the woman’s neck pulse.

Yes, it’s a powerful narcotic, he explains. I’m actually rather relieved. This is going to be somewhat painful.

Oh, no, Sam says and rejoins him near her wrist. In other parts of the clinic, people are crying out in pain.

See here? he asks, pointing with a surgical tool. The ulna is broken. I don’t see fragmented pieces, which is good. But it is, indeed, snapped. We’ll need to set this and close. A wrist brace will help, too. She’s in for a long road to recovery with physical therapy.

That’s terrible, Sam remarks as she blots blood away from the wound’s opening.

They get straight to work. She helps by holding the light and handing Simon the correct tools to get the job done. Then she sews her up, closing the wound while Simon dashes to another room when her uncle calls for him. One of their volunteers comes in to help her. By the time Simon returns, she has closed and just finished swabbing down the area to keep it clean of debris, dirt, and dried blood. She then applies a good healing salve that she and her uncle are now making just like Grandpa and Simon do over at the farm. Simon covers the wound with a clean cloth, tapes it, and they splint the wrist and wrap it.

She’s ready to be moved, Simon calls out to the others, who rush in to help. As the men are helping her since she is still muddle-headed, Simon tells them, Bring in our next patient.

They both share the sink and scrub up so as to not cross-contaminate their patients with germs or blood-borne pathogens. Their next patient is a man who was struck by one of the highwaymen’s bullets in the shoulder.

Passed through, Simon tells her as she holds the light.

Yes, she agrees as she, too, looks closely.

The man refuses painkiller and tells them to save it for the women and children as she and Simon irrigate and then sew the wound closed and cover. Their next patient is another woman who was injured by debris as she made her escape on foot out of her small hut on the farm compound and was cut on metal. Dave phoned in to let them know they were helping people on a small farm who were hit. It makes Sam angry, these lecherous men who would victimize people like this woman. Her leg wound requires twenty-seven stitches. Sam knows because she does it by herself by the light of a lantern and having the woman hold the flashlight while Simon is called to a patient that has become more critical. By the time she has finished, Simon returns and helps another man carry the woman with the leg wound out to join her group again. He returns leading a man carrying a small girl. She has a laceration on her head.

Shrapnel, we think, the man says.

Are you her father? Sam asks, to which he shakes his head and lowers his eyes. She assumes the girl’s father is dead by this. The girl must be seven or eight at the most. What’s your name, honey?

Tildy, she answers with frightened, wide brown eyes.

Everything’s going to be just fine, Tildy, Sam reassures her and begins the process of pulling on fresh gloves again. Beside her, Simon is doing the same. Dr. Murphy’s a wonderful doctor. We’re going to get you fixed right up.

Like Mommy, she says.

Your mommy? Sam asks.

Yes, Mommy’s a doctor, too, she answers and clings to her baby doll that only has one arm and black, charred hair.

Sam cautiously asks, Where is she? Is your mommy here?

No, she’s with the bad people now, Tildy answers. They took her.

Simon’s head snaps up, and he regards her and then the other man, who has stuck around to keep watch over and help with the young girl.

We think she was taken by them a few days ago, he explains. We aren’t sure, but her mother was working at the next farm over taking care of some people there who were sick, and they were attacked. Dr. Brown wasn’t anywhere to be seen. When we got there, she was just gone, not among the dead or the living. One of the survivors said they saw a few of the men in that highwaymen group take her.

Oh, dear, she says, worried they’ll do the same with Reagan or Grandpa or even Simon if they catch wind that they have doctors within their group.

Let’s take a look, Simon orders, trying to change up the topic in front of the little one.

When we found Tildy, she was unconscious, her guardian tells them. I don’t know what happened. Think she might’ve been close to a grenade or something and took some of the compression from the blast. That’s what we figured.

Simon nods, has the man hold the flashlight, and gets to work with Sam. Her scalp is sliced open on the crown of her head and is bleeding pretty badly.