Apokalypsis Book Two

by Kate Morris

  He could feel his fight instinct kicking in, but Tristan knew the smarter option was flight in this moment.

  He got his friend onto the bed of the truck and jumped up in to pull him by the shoulders. “Go! GO!”

  She stomped on the gas, which made Tristan fall off balance slightly for just a second. That’s when something shot out of the field to his left. It wasn’t the same one. This was a woman. She got both hands on Spencer’s legs that were still dangling since he didn’t get him pulled on all the way yet. Avery must’ve realized what was going on because she screamed. Tristan kicked once, twice and a final time at her face before she let go. The thing raged angrily and fell to the blacktop, hitting her head. The one from the woods hit the side of the truck’s bed and tried to climb on. Avery swerved as Tristan pulled his friend all the way on and toward the cab.

  The thing lost its grip from her swerve and ended up holding on with one hand. It was a good move on Avery’s part. Tristan stomped hard on its hand with his heavy-soled boot, causing it to let go and disappear. It didn’t get far, though. The whole bed jumped under him as she ran it over with the back wheels.

  “Don’t stop!” he shouted at her, thinking she was going to hesitate. Tristan held onto the edge of the bed’s wall and walked toward the driver’s window. She must’ve seen him approaching and rolled down the window. “Hospital. He’s sick.”

  She yelled back, probably louder than necessary and probably from nerves, “Okay, I’m going. The police dispatcher said that all their units were out and so were the ambulances anyways.”

  “You’re doing well,” he said and reached around to give her shoulder a squeeze. “Roll up the window and stay warm. We’re fine back here. I don’t want him to get you sick.”

  “What about you?” she shouted above the wind whipping past them.

  “Just go, Avery. We’re good.”

  After they hit the main road, he saw her talking on the phone, probably to her friend Renee or her little sister.

  Avery drove them to the hospital where they left Spencer. His dog tags gave them what they needed to get him registered. Tristan threatened them within an inch of their lives, and he was taken back quickly. His friend definitely had the flu. Tristan just wasn’t sure which version. The hospital was the same one he’d driven to earlier. So much was happening in such short time spans. It was like that in a battle, too. He was used to it, but she seemed shaken.

  “You okay?” he asked her as they walked to the truck where he’d left it locked up in the E.R. parking lot. Tristan noticed she hadn’t put on a sweater or jacket, and it was a lot chillier now being close to midnight. He’d ditched his hoodie as soon as he was done carrying Spencer in case it carried germs. “Hey, stop.”

  She wasn’t looking at him. She also wasn’t answering. Tristan placed his hand on her shoulder.

  “Avery?” he asked and got no response. This was a lot for a normal person to process. He simply looped an arm around her slim shoulders to hopefully keep her a little warmer and led her back to the truck. “Let’s go home.”

  She was shivering but not from the cold. Shit. This was not his forte.

  “Hey, you know you’d be a lot warmer if you’d just give me back my leather jacket,” he attempted a joke. “At least I could loan it back to you in times like this.”

  She actually smiled up at him. He felt ten feet tall.

  “I-I told Renee not to come to the hospital,” she said.

  “Good idea,” he said as he opened her door for her. She pulled his keys out of her pocket and handed them to him. He noticed how badly her hands were shaking, so he grabbed them both and held them tightly between his. “You did really good out there, okay? Like an operator.”

  “An operator?”

  “Yeah, like Special Forces.”

  “Like an engineer, you mean?” she asked, giving him sass. He ruffled the hair on top of her head.

  “Yeah, just like that.”

  Tristan drove them home to her family’s property, and they were both surprised to see Abraham sitting in the living room with Kaia. Avery rushed to him, and the big kid hugged her close for a long time.

  “How are they?” she asked, pulling back with unshed tears in her eyes.

  He took a deep breath and looked lost. “About the same. The doctors said it was a good sign that Cyrus hasn’t fallen into a coma. That’s good, I guess. Mom’s not doing so well. I’m just home to get a shower and go back.”

  “No, I will,” she blurted much to Tristan’s disappointment.

  “No, Ave,” Abraham told his sister. “Mom and Dad said to stay here. They want you here running things.”

  “But…”

  “He’s right,” Tristan stepped in. “Your parents are right. You should listen to them. You’re the oldest. I could go up for a while if you want. I know your mom. I met your dad, too. I could give them breaks. You could stay here and take care of the girls and your little brothers. I’ve got till nine o’clock tomorrow evening to report in for my first shift of the week.”

  “I don’t know,” Avery said. “I don’t know if my parents would like that. It’s not…well, because you’re her…you know.”

  Tristan was beginning to wish for many reasons that he’d met Avery Andersson under different circumstances. She probably thought he was nuts if he was seeing her mother as a patient.

  “Dad caught a quicker flight in New York. He’s going to be here in like an hour,” the brother interrupted them.

  “Really? Dad’s almost home?” Kaia asked, hopeful and youthful about her father coming home. Tristan didn’t understand that sentiment at all. Knowing his father was on his way home had always made him cringe and feel anxiety.

  “Yeah, soon,” Abraham stated. “Look, I’m gonna grab a shower. Got any leftovers, Ave? The donated food is getting kinda’ gross.”

  “Sure. Absolutely. I’ll pack some right now.”

  She looked exhausted, so Tristan went to the kitchen to help her. They scrubbed their hands thoroughly and began doling out cold spaghetti into small storage containers. Within an hour, her brother was ready to get on the road again, taking a huge, reusable, heavy-duty plastic shopping bag with wide nylon straps full of homemade food.

  “Be careful, man,” Tristan told him. “Wear those masks the hospitals hand out.”

  “We do. We’re being careful up there,” Abraham told them.

  Avery and Kaia hugged their little brother, who was almost a foot taller than them. He was a big kid for sixteen. If he went to public school, he definitely would’ve been drafted onto the football team.

  “Tell Mom we love her,” Avery said and pulled back.

  Kaia added, “And Dad, too.”

  “Love you, Abraham,” Avery said and her sister repeated. Abraham, without shame or embarrassment in front of Tristan, returned the words easily. Kaia had tears streaming down her cheeks. Avery wrapped an arm around her sister’s waist as they waved to their brother.

  “You should go to bed. It’s so late,” she said to Kaia once he was gone. She nodded and left.

  “You should, too,” he told Avery once he locked the house door again.

  “You should, too,” she imitated him with a smile.

  He shook his head. “Seriously. Get a shower since we went to that hospital. Then go to bed. You look beat.”

  “You really know how to flatter a girl,” she joked, leaning against the brick archway leading into the kitchen.

  “I didn’t say you looked bad. Far from it,” he mumbled and walked away. “But I’m used to keeping strange hours. We work a swing shift at the base, so staying up late isn’t a big deal. I’ll brew another coffee if you don’t mind.”

  “Absolutely,” she said and walked into the kitchen after him. “Have whatever you like, Tristan. You’re staying here to help us. To help me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Probably get into less perilous situations,” he noted.

  She touched his bare forearm, “T
hanks for staying. Again.”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll shower upstairs in my parents’ bathroom. You can have the guest bedroom. Actually, I’ll sleep up there, too. That way you don’t have to couch it.”

  “Sure,” he said, not entirely listening. Her long, graceful fingers were floating over the scars on his arm. “Whatever you want.”

  He knew what he wanted, but that was out of the question, and she left him anyway. Tristan’s arm felt cool where her touch had left it feeling shunned and abandoned.

  The first thing he did was a perimeter check of the grounds. Everything was quiet, even the chickens, who’d chirped at him last night. Once he was inside, he set the locks and went back to the kitchen. Despite the night’s crazy events and those of yesterday and the past few weeks, Tristan felt a sense of calm come over him. He wasn’t sure what it meant, though.

  Instead of focusing time and energy on dissecting that, he collected his coffee and downed it. Then he grabbed a shower and reluctantly wore the t-shirt she left out for him. At least it wasn’t some preppy douchebag shirt this time. It was just a plain white tee. She also left him clean socks.

  Then he padded to the kitchen for another coffee, this time adding a splash of cream from the fridge. He also raided the cookie cave where he found a few dozen peanut butter ones in a box. They must’ve been what was left from the batch she’d made to take on their super fun picnic last night that ended in screaming, terror, and bloodshed.

  He shut off all the lights in the spacious house that were still on and went to the living room where he sat in a leather chair and watched out the wall of windows. This place was so unsafe. It was a fortification nightmare.

  In one outlet, he found a phone charger and used it to charge his phone. Then he returned his mug to the sink and rinsed it. Tomorrow, he needed to call his lieutenant and tell him what happened to Royce and Freddie. Then he’d have to report that Spencer was sick, too. He wasn’t sure how much the local sheriff from Renee’s town would’ve told the military already or if they were sharing secrets at all.

  Tristan checked the kids asleep in the basement, the little brother, Finn, must’ve decided to bunk downstairs with his brother Ephraim instead of staying in his own room. Then he checked on the girl named Kaia, stood at her door but didn’t enter. That seemed too weird of a thing to do. It was silent, so he moved on and checked Dr. Andersson’s office, then the guest bedroom. Only one more person to check on, so he walked quietly up the thick wooden stairs to the second floor. He’d been up here before, to her parents’ suite. Just not when she was in it.

  Tristan turned the bedroom doorknob silently and approached the bed. She had a nightlight on in the bathroom, or it was simply some small lighting source that stayed on all the time. It barely lit the room, but he was pretty good at moving around in the dark. His job had made him adept at such skills.

  Avery was lying on her back with her hair spread out on the burgundy satin sheets like a goddamn goddess. It nearly glowed against the darkness of the bedding. Her face was serene and peaceful as she slept. She was silent, barely made a sound as she breathed. Having kicked the covers down in her sleep or been too hot to use them, he could see what she was wearing. Her legs were covered in some sort of long ivory socks that came up to her thighs. She was wearing a matching cardigan. Even to bed? He peered in the darkness to confirm it. Yep. The socks barely covered her tan thighs. She had long, sexy legs. He needed no reminder of them. He’d seen all she had to entice a man in that bikini earlier. Then he almost spit at what he realized he was also seeing. Under the cardigan was nothing on top. Lacy cream panties peeked out at him from the slight opening from the buttonless sweater. More sexy lingerie. For a girl without a boyfriend, she sure did own a lot of naughty shit. He wanted to see what else she had in her treasure trove of sexy underthings. But the fact that he could see about half of one bare breast where the sweater had fallen open made Tristan swallow so hard it was audible in the silent room. She even moaned softly in her sleep and rolled to her side. Great! That now gave him a view of her shapely, toned butt in those lacy panties. He had to get out of here. Abort mission.

  Tristan checked the house and grounds again, mostly to get some fresh air on his face after staring at Avery Andersson’s ass. Good God, he was turning into a pervert.

  He finally turned in for a few hours of sleep around four a.m., but Tristan still had a hard time knocking out. He told himself it was because of everything that was going on with this flu virus, the loss of a few friends last night- although he didn’t really know them all that well, truth be told- and the fact that he now held information in his brain that the government was trying its damnedest to keep under wraps from the public. He told himself a lot of other lies, too. He finally nodded off, and blessedly didn’t have nightmares. Unfortunately, he had a dream about Avery Andersson beckoning him to join her on her parents’ bed, but it wasn’t their bed at all. It was theirs, his and Avery’s. She wanted him to join her. And he did.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Avery made sausage and cinnamon rolls the next morning, having set out the dough last night to rise. It made it so much easier this way.

  Tristan joined them, probably roused by the smell of yeast, sugar, and butter baking in the oven.

  “Coffee?” she offered since he didn’t look as if he slept much.

  “We wanna’ play airsoft, Ave,” Ephraim complained for the tenth time.

  “Maybe later, okay?”

  “Why?” Finnegan asked and stomped. Avery just smiled at his antics.

  “I have a lot to do,” she explained. “Why don’t you go and wake Kaia for me? The rolls are almost done. Ephraim, set the table please.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, although she knew he didn’t want to.

  “Busy house in the morning,” Tristan commented and sipped his coffee.

  “Busy house all the time,” she corrected with a laugh as she removed the links from the pan and rolled them onto a platter carefully so that they didn’t plop off onto the floor. They didn’t have a dog to clean up after things like that, after all.

  The driveway gate opener buzzed at the security system on the wall, which always let them know when someone was there.

  “Who could that be?” she asked and went to the monitor.

  “Dad!” Ephraim exclaimed joyously. “It’s Dad!”

  They all walked toward the dining room wall of glass and looked out. Sure enough, her father was pulling down the drive in his own car. She couldn’t stop him before Finn ran out the door. Avery hung back and let her brothers and Kaia greet him first. She knew how overwhelming they could all be. Finally, he came inside.

  “Sergeant Driscoll,” he said, shaking Tristan’s hand. “I hear you’ve been looking after my family while I was gone.”

  “Just a little here and there, sir,” Tristan answered.

  That wasn’t true. He helped a lot. Sure, maybe he’d insulted her a few times, too, and they’d had a squabble, but he was keeping them safe, and Avery felt better with him around. And he’d apologized, which was huge.

  “I appreciate it more than you know, sir,” her father said with great reverence and turned to Avery. “Let me get washed up. Smells like you have something wonderful cooking, darling.”

  “Yes, sir,” Avery answered. “I sure do. Are you feeling better, Dad?”

  “Yes, Avery. I told you not to worry. Probably just seasonal allergies, ragweed or something similar. Too much travel lately,” he explained and set his carry-on and messenger bag on the floor. “I don’t think my body knows which end is up.”

  She smiled but still worried. He looked tired, haggard, a little sick around the eyes.

  They ate their meal, the kids yammering on about Tristan and how cool he was and how much he helped out. Finn had to tell him about playing in the pool yesterday as if that were important. In his small world, it was.

  “How are the kids, Dad? Any improvement yet?” she asked.

 
; He shook his head and sent her a look that let Avery know he didn’t wish to discuss it in front of the children. She nodded.

  “Are you going back to the hospital today?” she asked next.

  “Not today. I want your mother to come home tonight, so I’ll relieve her then. She needs rest. She’s exhausted.”

  Avery nodded. “Abraham said as much.”

  “I’ll be staying home until then. Sergeant Driscoll, you can go back to your base. I’m sure you’ve neglected much in your own life looking after my family.” Tristan nodded, and her father turned back to her. “Abraham will bring your mother home, and I’ll take their place.”

  “Can I go, too?”

  “Perhaps,” he answered. Avery felt good about that. She was so helpless and useless here doing nothing for her siblings who were suffering so terribly. “We’ll see, darling. Your mother would like you to step in for her around here until the kids come home.”

  “Yes, sir. I know. It’s just that I’d like to go up tonight if that’s all right. I can take my own car and come home first thing in the morning before everyone’s up so I can make breakfast. I don’t want Mom to have to do it.”

  “And I can help, too,” Kaia volunteered. She wasn’t the most self-sufficient girl, always preferring to be outside swinging from a tire swing or climbing their tree fort. She was a tomboy for sure. She was also the best with their compound bow, and she loved the throwing knives, too. But she tried to help out in the kitchen when she could. She made simple things like breakfast foods or throwing a roast in the crockpot to cook all day while their mother worked with patients.

  “Thank you, my girls,” their father said, his worried eyes softening. “I don’t know what we’d all do without you right now.”

  She reached over and squeezed his hand.

  When their meal concluded, her father went upstairs to shower. Avery sent the kids outside to play while she cleaned the kitchen. Kaia, she gave chores and egg collecting duties. The boys she told to practice shooting their bow and arrows and with their throwing axes and knives. Years ago, her father had set up an archery range. They all enjoyed it. She just wanted them out of the house so she could talk to her father.