CHAPTER NINETEEN
The second house only yielded up four more for me to kill, and I suspected there had been others who had run way. I would hunt them down later. First I needed to make an example here on Hybernia Court. A monument to my rage and loss.
I was in the garage of the second house looking for a machete when I heard her approach. The soft footfalls gave her away, and I didn’t turn as I continued to sort through the junk stacked up in boxes. Already I’d found a limb lopper, but I decided that would be too much trouble. A machete would do so much better. I’d done good work with a machete once. Maybe I should have held onto it.
“What do you want, Lori?” I said, and once more I noticed my throat was sore. That seemed to be a constant side effect from when the berserker came to visit. Usually I felt worn down after the inevitable adrenalin crash as the fury wore off, but now I suspected that fury would be my new normal until something came along to kill me.
“She… she was asking for you, Luke.”
Her words took a few seconds to register, and I was sure I had misheard her.
“Who, Lori? There’s nobody left. Nobody to ask for me.”
“Uhh, Amy. Amy is asking for you. She’s inside now, and, well, she wants you to come back.” Lori spoke as if conversing with a lion at the zoo, if the lion was out of its cage and staring at her with hungry eyes. She was trying to sound casual even as the terror rolled off her in waves.
“Lori, please. No tricks. I’m not in the mood. I saw Amy fall. I saw the blood. You can’t get over a bullet in the head. I’ve shot enough people in the head to know that.”
“Luke, she’s not dead. She did get shot twice, but her body armor stopped the bullets. She was knocked down by one of them, and she struck her head on the concrete driveway. She’s got a big cut on her head and a concussion, but she’s alive. Summer and Scott and the others are with her now.”
I stopped. I stood completely still as I listened and ran those words through my head. I know my brain wasn’t working right. I could tell the way the new pathways in my head were guiding my actions now so that I could stop thinking and keep going.
“I need to find a machete,” I finally muttered.
“Why, Luke?”
“So I can cut off all their heads. If I put them on stakes, I’m sure nobody else will ever try that again. You’ll be safe here. Safe. I couldn’t keep Amy safe and now she’s dead.”
Stepping around the corner, daring to enter the cave with the madman, Lori finally came fully into view. Her denim work shirt had dark stains that might be blood, but only splotches, not the telltale signs of arterial spray.
“She’s alive, Luke. You kept her alive. We’re all alive. I mean, except for my… my parents.”
Then the girl started sobbing, and I looked away and felt my mind starting to work. I didn’t think Lori would lie about something like this, and she was my friend. I didn’t have many friends and she was special that way. I had saved her, and her sister, before.
“I’m sorry. Is Summer okay?”
“She needs to see a doctor. She was shot. A bullet hit her leg below the right knee, but I don’t think it broke the bone. I patched her up with some supplies my folks kept in the medical kit in the house but I don’t know what to do next.”
Lori was suddenly crying harder now, tears poured down her face in a torrent and sobs began to wrack her body. Moving instinctively, I gathered the young woman into my arms and clutched her close as I felt the ice around my own heart begin to shatter.
“They’re alive? Amy’s alive?”
I must have repeated myself three or four times before the tiny girl, who was shorter than me by more than a foot, suddenly looked up into my eyes with her tear-streaked face. I could see despair and pain in those eyes and other emotions I couldn’t understand.
“You really love her, don’t you? I don’t mean, want to get into her pants, or like her a lot. This is the real deal.”
“Yes, Lori. The real deal. I really, truly love Amy. And when I thought she was dead, I couldn’t deal with it.”
Lori nodded.
“Amy asked me to come get you. Well, she wanted to it herself, but she’s still seeing double. And Scott and I had a big fight. He was worried you might hurt me. When he saw I wouldn’t be stopped, he wanted to come with me. I told him you would never harm me, but…”
I got it. If it was my sister going to talk to an insane killer, I’d be nervous to say the least. He was probably on pins and needles if he wasn’t already on his way over.
“I’m so sorry I left you like that, Lori. I thought they were both dead and something inside just snapped.”
“The berserker?” Lori asked carefully.
“Yeah, something like that. I couldn’t deal with Amy being dead, so I fixated on the cause and I just couldn’t stop. Like I said, I couldn’t deal, so I fell back on what I could do.”
“Did you leave any for me?” Lori asked and I looked at her with an expression that must have betrayed my shock.
“If Scott’s right, this is the same group of neighbors that killed my mother and father a little over a week ago.” She said each word slowly, as if she still couldn’t accept the truth in them.
“Seriously? The neighbors? Well, one or two might have gotten away, but yeah, I think I got most of them. Eleven in the first house. Four more here. Why would they attack your house though?”
Lori looked down, this time anger spreading across her cheeks in a flush and I suddenly remembered what the woman in the first house claimed. I answered before Lori could.
“Somehow they knew your parents had stocked up on food.”
“That’s what Scott said. How did you know?”
I flashed a scary smile before I answered. “One of the women in that first house told me. She said this was their score, and we should get lost since they’d already lost so many trying to get it. Then she tried to kill me. It didn’t work.”
“So I see. Let’s get back over to the house and you can see Amy for yourself. But, ah, you might want to get some clothes out of the truck and change in the garage. You’re covered in blood and Amy might not be able to tell none of it is yours.”
I looked down once again.
“About that…,” I said, and then I started to get lightheaded again. I’d bandaged the wound in my abdomen as best I could, but the blood just would not stop leaking. That round had caught the bottom of my vest and tumbled a little bit as it bit into flesh.
I managed to take one step, then two, with Lori helping, and then I was down to one knee. The world started getting dark around the edges, graying out really, and I started to chuckle at the irony. Here I thought my love was dead, when actually it was me. Then the floor opened up and I knew nothing else.
CHAPTER TWENTY
If my life had been a movie, I would have awakened in a hospital bed to find out the whole thing had been a nightmare. Or at least, I would have stayed unconscious for days as my body healed itself. Reality was a lot different… and more painful.
I remembered bits and pieces of being hauled out of the garage by small, light hands and then the rattling, excruciating pain as the SUV navigated a series of slaloms that hurt more than I thought possible. Maybe somebody had sewn up my belly wound after dumping in a bucket full of rusty razor blades.
Eventually the pain subsided and I heard words but did not grasp the meaning. Then there was more darkness.
When I woke an unknown time later, I found myself in darkness and in pain, but it was the darkness of night. My eyes opened slowly, and my first coherent thought was to wonder why I was still alive. Without Amy, I really didn’t want to keep going. That was the plan. Kill them all, build a monument of their severed heads, and let myself find peace.
Then a memory tumbled free in my muddled head. Lori. Finding me in the garage. Telling me something… something that didn’t seem possible. I tried to sit up, and the razor blades in my belly let me know that memory was true. Also, my I felt a
new flare of pain in my back; like I’d been hit with a baseball bat. Had I been hit more than once?
The day came back in a funhouse mirror sort of way, and I could see all the mistakes I made. Approaching the house without doing even minimal surveillance, letting Summer bolt from the car, and not reacting soon enough. I’d screwed everything up, and the first mistake had been asking Lori to drive. I knew she was an emotional wreck, worried about her parents and her brother.
More memories as I recalled something else she had said in the garage. Her parents were dead, but Scott and the others were still alive; whoever the others were. I knew Scott was her brother; I’d pretending to be him, once.
But most importantly, the memory of Lori telling me that I’d been a complete and utter idiot; Amy was alive! Not cold and stiff, sprawled out on the concrete of the driveway.
“Amy,” I managed to whisper. My throat still hurt, and suddenly I felt the need to pee. Trying to slowly sit up again, I found I could manage it if I made each move with care and did not flex my stomach muscles. Easier said than done; each tiny movement caused a fresh ripple of pain.
“What are you doing?” I heard the voice and turned too quickly, feeling the agony burn afresh in my wound. By now, my vision was such that I could make out shapes, and I saw a familiar one lying on the cot next to me. Summer.
“Where’s Amy?” I ground out, my voice suddenly going hard and cold.
“She’s with the nurse, Luke. They’re still trying to treat her nausea. She took a pretty bad spill and has a golf ball sized goose egg. Plus, you know, those vests worked really well but she has a pair of bruises on her back bigger than my hand. We all do… those of us that got shot. No bullet proof pants though, so you need to see about that, Luke.”
Summer seemed scared, and her words escalated into a panicked babble. I became aware we were not alone in the room as I heard others, likely other injured, mumbling in their sleep.
“Keep your voice down,” I said softly, trying for reassuring but only getting a flat sounding monotone. “What’s wrong with you?”
“It was all my fault, Luke. Please don’t be mad at me,” she said more softly, and I could hear the desperation and sadness in her voice. “Please don’t hate me.”
“Did you shoot me?” I asked; my voice smoother this time and on low volume.
“No, I didn’t, Luke. Don’t you remember? Those people across the street did it.”
“Did you shoot Amy? No? Of course not. I’m not mad at you, Summer. If I’m mad at anyone still alive, I am mad at myself. I should have taken precautions. I should have scouted the place out myself before letting you and your sister stumble into what happened. Lori told me that your parents didn’t make it. I’m very sorry for your loss, Summer.”
I said that last bit with as much emphasis as I could manage. I didn’t know the details yet but from what little I did know; the ones I killed were likely the same ones that murdered her parents. That was something, anyway. Not much to offer, but it was all I had. I heard muffled sobs from the other cot, but at least she wasn’t loud about it.
All that talking got my stomach hurting even more and I saw the curtain over the doorway flap open as someone entered the room. This person was carrying a lantern of some sort and was making his or her way closer to where I lay. By the glow of the lantern I could tell it was a woman’s form, but that was about it.
“Ah, glad to see you are awake, Mr. Landon. Your sister has been worried sick about you, and she has enough problems of her own.” The person, a nurse judging from her garb, was a black lady in her forties, I thought. She had big brown eyes and a little smile on her face.
“Sister? My sister isn’t here. She’s in Texas.”
“Amy? She’s just outside.”
I fought not to laugh. “Amy is most assuredly not my sister, ma’am. She’s my fiancée.”
That got a strange look.
“But you both have the same name. I saw it on your ID card. Something isn’t right here,” she said, mumbling that last part.
“The folks in the office at Fort Chaffee just made a mistake is all, ma’am. We were introduced as Luke and Amy Landon and that’s probably how they got confused.”
“Well, Luke, I’m Nurse Pierson, but you can call me Nicole. What is your last name and I’ll fill it in on your chart?”
I started to say Messner then caught myself. The drugs must have left me a little loopy.
“Just call me Luke, ma’am. I mean, Nicole. That’s what everybody calls me. Now, how’s Amy?”
The nurse gave me a look bordering on annoyed, but then just sighed and answered.
“She’ll be fine. Just a little dinged up and that concussion had us worried. We can’t do proper imaging anymore, of course, but she’s responding okay now. She also has a large cut on her forehead and bruising I was told came from her body armor stopping a couple of bullets. I wouldn’t know about that.”
“But she’s going to recover? No lasting impairment that you can tell?”
“Yes, Luke, Amy will be fine.”
“I thought she was dead. I thought I was going to be alone again,” I said, the drugs making me overshare.
Nicole took a step back and took a good look at me, like she was trying to gauge my reaction based on the words I’d spoken.
“Luke, did you try to hurt yourself? After you thought Amy was not going to make it?”
Her concerns were old world concerns, not in keeping with the new times. What, she had to report suicidal teens to the authorities? Summer laughed; a mirthless sound from the other cot. She sounded almost sarcastic when she spoke next. At least the tears seemed to have abated.
“Luke wouldn’t kill himself, ma’am. Not directly. He was too busy killing those responsible for what happened. They hurt Amy, so of course in Luke’s book, they had to die. Just getting shot wouldn’t stop this guy. I keep hearing how he’s so smart, but his real, best talent seems to be in killing people.”
A talent for killing, as my friend Nick once said.
I ignored Summer’s no doubt drugged ramblings and gave the nurse a tentative smile. I knew all the terrible things Summer had witnessed must be taking a toll on her mind… and her soul.
“I didn’t do anything to injure myself, ma’am. Just didn’t duck when I should have. I usually don’t try to take on a group that big, but today was a special occasion. Now, how soon can you clear me for travel? We’ve still got a ways to go for me to get home.”
The nurse shook her head, no doubt confused by the meandering course of our conversation, with Summer’s opinions thrown in to boot.
“The doctor will be by to see you in the morning, but figure on at least a week provided no infection sets in, Luke.”
A week. I wanted to go immediately, but youthful bravado aside, I felt like shit.
“Thank you, Nicole. Now, I need to get up to use the restroom. Can you help?”
Rather than answering, the nurse wandered off for a moment and can back with something in her hand. When the lamplight illuminated a porcelain bedpan, I knew this was not going to be an easy recovery.
“I have just what you need right here, Luke.”
Wonderful.
Despite everything, I managed to sleep through the night and if I dreamed I had no recollection of it in the morning.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
When I woke, I saw Amy sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair, her face slack with sleep and her forehead sporting a huge bandage. Curled into a ball on the hard seat, she reminded me of a small child taking a nap. In the dim light cast by the now uncovered windows of the converted conference room, I saw we shared the space with at least six other patients. Most appeared to be still asleep.
I wanted to get out of bed and hold Amy, to touch her face and reassure myself that she still lived. When I thought she was dead, I lost my reason, and my ability to control the hunter inside. I was crazy of course, but not so crazy as to pretend the berserker was anything other than my own s
elf. As I’d pointed out to Nick, going berserker didn’t make me bullet proof.
Case in point, I thought, and looked down to examine the bandage on my lower abdomen. Then, bracing myself, I gently peeled back the bandage to take a look at the entry wound. Stitched back together, the angry looking slice didn’t look so bad, measuring only a few inches in width. I noticed the surgical thread looked funny, different than what I seen used to stitch up my chin the last time I’d had a wound closed that way. Back before.
“Fishing line,” a voice pronounced, and I tried not to jerk when I looked up. “Technically, that is polypropylene. We ran out of just about all the regular stuff over a week ago and one of the medics suggested it.”
I gave the guy a quick once over and decided he must have been the one to do the stitching. He was in his early forties, slender like a runner and wore glasses. Of course, all of us looked skinny these days but he reminded me of Colonel Hotchkins with his greyhound appearance. He was dressed much as Nurse Nicole, in faded scrubs and wearing one of those little surgical caps you see doctors wearing on TV.
“Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate the fine work. Now, what do I own you? I’m afraid my insurance card was in my other pants.”
That got a dry chuckle for the man, who just stepped closer and produced an old fashioned mercury thermometer and stuck it under my tongue. I could taste the alcohol and figured that was a good thing. Sterile, at least.
“Ah, Luke,” he said, touching my forehead with the back of his hand the way my mother used to when I was a kid. Checking for fever. I’d read that the average person couldn’t tell anything from that touch, but I still found it a comfort; which was probably why he did it.
“Luke,” he said as he started again, “I think you are covered under the ‘thank God you saved our asses’ clause in my contract. I’m Doctor Spaulding, and you and your people get free treatment as long as I am around to see it done. I heard what you and your friends did, holding the fence against over fifty of those gang members that tried to rush the compound.”
Hard Rain Falling (Walking in the Rain Book 3) Page 15