by Kate Morris
They manage to sew up four patients who needed stitches, bandage others who do not, and treat the less critical injuries like broken bones and contusions. As soon as he can, he’ll try to hitch a ride to Pleasant View to help Herb. He doesn’t want to leave him with so many people to attend to with just one other doctor and Sam. There are bound to be more injured or shot civilians and soldiers. If he knows Dave’s men as well as he does John and Kelly, they will likely keep on fighting even with a few bullet holes in them.
As he works with Luke, he tries not to let his mind wander to Sam. Cory shot down a drone tonight, which they have confiscated along with the wrecked fifty cal from the technical, the mortar, rifles, and ammo. If these people have been using technology like drones since they started their nefarious endeavors of being mass murderers, then they will likely soon find Pleasant View and the McClane farm. They probably used one to find Dave’s compound, too, but hadn’t thought they’d need to send very many men to overrun it. Her safety is in jeopardy. If she stays at the McClane farm, then the likelihood of her coming into harm’s way by these people is very high, too high. If she goes back to Dave’s, the same will happen. Taking out less than a hundred of these men tonight is just chunking away a tiny chip from the massive rock of their numbers. They’ll come again. The next time they come, she could be in their path.
Chapter Twenty-four
Reagan
She went against Derek’s final word and her grandfather’s lecture and decided with firm finality to join Grandpa at the clinic to treat the injured people of the condo community. It doesn’t matter that she gave birth a few days ago. She feels fine, and this is more important than sitting at the farm where she is of no use to anyone. Derek was worried with her leaving, too, that there wouldn’t be enough security at the farm, but Henry assured him that he and his men could help him should danger arise. So, she went to town, and it is nearly dawn.
She, Grandpa, and Sam and her Uncle Scott have treated twelve people so far. The sun is just cresting on the horizon, but just barely because a light drizzle started a few hours ago. A bead of sweat runs down her brow as they await the next wave of patients that her husband called in a while ago to tell her were on their way.
“Sweetheart, here, drink,” Grandpa says, handing her a cold mason jar of water from the farm. “Sit, Reagan. Take a breather.”
She takes his advice and sits in the receptionist’s former chair in the lobby of her grandfather’s practice.
“Rest a while, honey,” he orders and takes a seat near her, reviewing patient charts.
“I can’t believe we lost two people tonight,” she admits with shame.
Her feet are tired, her body is fatigued, and she’d been forced to pump milk for her daughter before she left the house. Thank God baby Daniel is finally on goat’s milk, or she’d be pumping enough for both of them.
“Focus on the patients still coming who need our care, Reagan,” he says. “You know better than that. There’s time later for second guesses and misgivings.”
“I know,” she says sadly.
“Take a break,” he says again. “The ones who needed it have been moved across the street. Our townspeople are taking care of them and watching the critically injured.”
“I know, but I feel like I should be over there until the next group arrives.”
“Reagan, you just gave birth three days ago. You shouldn’t even be here.”
“I read once that some women in third world countries give birth and go back to the rice fields the same day. Compared to them, I’m a real chump.”
“My granddaughter is not a slacker, and I’ll not have you talking about her that way,” he teases with a grin and pushes his readers higher on his nose.
Reagan smiles and observes him for a moment writing notes and scanning patient charts. It reminds her of when she was little, and a pang of fear that he’ll die soon, too soon for her daughter to get to know him, hits Reagan right in the chest. The air in the stuffy clinic suddenly feels too thin.
Her grandfather doesn’t notice and keeps on talking, “Simon did well this evening, too.”
“Yeah, so I heard,” Reagan agrees, remembering John’s report. Simon and Luke took care of many of the superficial injuries. “That took a lot off our plate.”
“Yes, he’s becoming quite the young doctor,” Grandpa praises as Sam comes out of the back with soiled sheets and passes through the door to the outside. The linens will be boiled out back to contain and kill any contaminants.
“I’m glad he was there,” she says.
“I’m just thankful that all of our family is going to come home safely and uninjured,” he adds.
“I’ll believe it when I see it. John always gets hurt.”
“Have a little faith,” he teases her.
Reagan sips the water and swipes the back of her hand across her sweaty forehead. She’ll be glad when summer is over. Normally, it’s her favorite time of year, but this year with being pregnant and now the massive hormonal flux, she’ll be relieved when fall arrives.
“What did John say about the highwaymen? I didn’t get to hear the whole transmission.”
“No survivors that they know of,” Grandpa says.
“Some could’ve gotten away,” she acknowledges and gets a solemn nod from him. “They could still come back, come at us again.”
“I know, honey.”
Reagan sighs and waits for him to finish jotting down notes. Tonight has been stressful and harrowing for them and the men in the family who went out to confront this danger head-on. She admires their bravery, but she’s not sure she feels the same about a lot of this now. Once her daughter was born, Charlotte changed her views on things. She no longer wants to leave the farm to join a fight, and she’s not so sure she wants John to do it anymore, either. But these were not just allies who were being attacked; these were their friends, too. They couldn’t stand by and watch them be slaughtered like so many were on the road. As worried as she was about her husband and family members in this fight, she was equally concerned about Derek.
“Grandpa, did you notice how upset Derek was tonight?” she asks and pulls a bag of homemade crackers from her pocket.
“Good girl. Keep your calorie intake high, Reagan,” Grandpa praises. “You need to keep your milk going. Plus, the baby will rob you of key nutrients if you don’t. Your body will produce, and the baby will take what she needs. Then you’ll start having problems with your teeth and bones.”
“I know.”
“And, yes, I did notice,” he says reluctantly.
“He’s so depressed lately. I wish I’d studied post-traumatic stress syndrome more thoroughly. I don’t know what to do about him.”
“I know, dear,” he says and drags his chair closer to hers. Then he pats her leg and continues. “I’ve been working with the CDC doctors up north. We did some pretty advanced research work together while I was there, and I feel confident for the first time in a long time that we’re going to conquer all of this and flourish someday again.”
“What’s that got to do with Derek?”
“I was also working with one of the other young doctors there who specialized in orthopedics. Bright young lady. We reviewed Derek’s case quite thoroughly, and I think I may have a solution. I’m going to need Cory’s help, but we worked on a design for a brace that she was using with similar patients before the fall. I think with Cory’s knack for mechanical engineering and this new idea for a brace that we can build it.”
“That would be great, Grandpa,” Reagan says.
“I’ll show the drawings to you when we get back. I’ve just been so busy…”
“You mean in the eight hours since you rushed back from the fort so that the men could get involved in this war?”
He chuckles and scratches at his whiskers. “I suppose so.”
“Time flies in the apocalypse,” she jokes.
There is shouting outside as another truckload of injured people is brought to the
ir clinic.
“You can go to my office and sleep if you need to,” he offers as he stands. Then he lays his hand on the top her head.
“No, I’m good. Those crackers-and-water Soviet prison food were just the thing to get me going again.”
“What would I do without you?” he says with great affection, smiling down into her face before caressing her scarred cheek and leaving.
Dr. Scott comes in from the front porch to tell them what they already know. From what Reagan has learned of him, he is a good man, and Sam is lucky to have him back in her life.
This wave of patients is not so critical, for which Reagan is thankful. The exam rooms are a wreck when they finish again. The sun has risen and is trying to push through the heavy cloud cover. Sam and her uncle volunteer to clean the rooms along with three women from town. She is more than thankful for the help. They insist she sit on the sofa in the lobby and rest. Reagan doesn’t argue this time. She finally breathes a sigh of relief when the next vehicle brings the men to the clinic. She rushes out to hug her husband, heedless of what people think.
“We’re ok, babe,” John says, crushing her to him with one, strong arm while holding his rifle with the other. He kisses the side of her head through her curls. “We’re fine.”
“I know. I know,” she whispers.
They separate, and Reagan steps back. She presses her hand to John’s cheek but notices blood on the side of his head.
“What…”
“Not mine, babe. I’m one piece.”
“Let me get you cleaned up,” she insists and tugs his arm.
“Luke’s way worse than me.”
“My brother?” she asks, the words tasting strange coming out of her mouth. She has not referred to him as this yet, not out loud. It was a chapter of her life that she wanted to be a bad dream, her father disgracing himself by having a whole other family secreted away from them.
“Yeah, apparently your new brother is quite the proficient when it comes to hand-to-hand combat.”
“Oh, gross,” she remarks honestly.
“Gross it may be, my love, but handy it was in the battle.”
“How’s everyone else? How’s Simon?”
John looks over his shoulder and points. “He’s coming. He was invaluable tonight with his long-range shots and taking care of patients for us.”
“I know. I’m so glad he’s safe. That’s all that matters.”
“Everyone’s fine. Paul’s people took the biggest hit. A few of Dave’s men, but you probably already know all this. We have so much to go over later at the farm when we get time.”
“Ok, good. We were all worried and left out of the loop. Your brother’s about to lose his mind.”
“I radioed to let him know the mission was a success.”
Reagan frowns and says. “That’s not what I mean, John. Derek’s in bad shape. He didn’t handle it well that he was left out of the fight. He needs more to do than run the damn radio at home.”
“He did. He sent men to stop the runners on the road. It helped us a lot.”
“I know, but you don’t get it. Your brother…we’ll talk later,” she says and presses a quick kiss to his mouth.
She spends some time collecting clean, scalded rags from behind the clinic and passing them out for the men to wipe down. Some are covered in black soot, others blood, and some have grease and gunpowder on their faces. Lucas is, indeed, the worst one of the bunch. His demeanor is calm and cool, however. It leads her to believe that this is not his first skirmish as G had conveyed to them about their new brother. He simply washes up, dumps a bucket of water over his head and walks away with his rifle slung again.
Sam and her uncle volunteer to remain in town for a few days to look after their patients for them while Reagan and her grandfather will return to the farm for some much-needed rest. Simon also volunteers to stick around in town to keep watch over Sam and her uncle, who absolutely do not need him to do so with the extra guards in place, the sheriff and his men, and the few men from Dave’s who are already planning on staying until their friends are healed up and ready to go home. He is going to stay anyway. Reagan doesn’t think it’s such a bad idea, though, since there are so many patients that require their help.
“Call us if you hear anything else, brother,” Dave is saying to Kelly as she and John join them in the street.
“You got it,” Kelly tells him. “You do the same.”
“K-Dog’s got a patrol unit out right now looking for strays, so if I hear anything, I’ll let you know. There were bound to be a few that got away.”
Kelly nods and says, “Not such a bad thing. They’ll make it back to their people and let them know what happened. Hopefully, they’ll leave the condo community alone now.”
Her husband says, “They’re gonna be wondering where their people are who don’t make it to them, if any do at all. I’m sure we fluffed their nest tonight. But, at least they know who they’re messin’ with now.”
“Hooah,” Dave says and bumps Kelly’s fist, then John’s.
“Safe travels, brother,” John tells their friend.
Dave nods and shouts expletives to his men to mount up.
“What about Paul’s group?” Reagan asks her husband. “How will they protect the community now?”
“They’ll be fine. The sheriff here is sending some men that way to help.”
“Will the town be ok without them?”
John nods and says, “Yeah, babe, they’ll be fine. They’re gonna have Simon here for a few days and some of Dave’s men. We’re only a few miles away if something happens to the town.”
Reagan and the other doctors take the time to check their patients again before leaving with Cory, Kelly, and John for the farm. Derek dismisses Henry and his remaining men, who agree to go to Pleasant View and help keep an eye on their town and also their laid-up comrades at the medical house across from the clinic. The men agree to discuss the night after a few hours’ worth of shut-eye. After showering, John hits the sack like a comatose person. Cory and Kelly do the same. Luke says he is too keyed up to sleep, so he’s going with G on a perimeter check. Reagan is exhausted but feeds Charlotte. She hopes her grandfather is also going to get some rest, but knowing him, he’ll stay up and review those patient notes he brought home, having left the actual files for Simon and Dr. Scott.
Their bedroom is dark and cozy from the cloudy, melancholy day and the rain, and John has opened the doors to the balcony allowing a crosswind to flow through. He is sleeping so soundlessly she’d like to check his pulse but refrains. She slips in beside him and is immediately pulled into his embrace, although he does not even open his eyes. John always does this, holds her tight when he sleeps. She isn’t sure if it is an insecurity issue, that he is afraid he’ll lose her, or if he just finds it comforting. Usually, it’s option C. He just wants sex. This morning, however, he is dead asleep and doing it out of habit. Either way, she’s fine with being tucked up against him and held firmly there by his strong arms. She was worried sick last night about John. She can never lose him. He and their two children are her whole life. Charlotte just changed everything again. She has to hold her little family together.
Her dreams are plagued with macabre images of a battle that she has not witnessed and does not believe occurred last night. It is more premonitory in scope. She sees Kelly dead, a bullet wound in his chest, bled out on the ground near their barn. Cory is also dead, having been hit by something intense like a grenade. As she stands in the barnyard watching the scene before her, Reagan witnesses family members either in a state of dying or already having left this earth. Her children are also there, not much older than they are now. The house is ablaze, barely anything left of it. The barns are also torched and standing with just the antique beams glowing a brilliant red-orange in the middle of the day. Smoke burns her lungs and causes her to cough. Her son, although he is only maybe six years old, is cradling Charlotte close to his chest, and they are both crying.
> She awakens with a start to the cry of her daughter in her bassinet near them. Already trained to snap to instant alertness, she slips from the bed without awakening John and retrieves her hungry baby. Reagan takes a seat in a rocker that John brought up to their room and feeds her daughter again. Her palms are sweaty, even though their room is not overly hot since the rain has brought with it cooler air and a heavy breeze. The time on the bedside clock reads a little after noon, surprising her that she slept so long. She’s also surprised Charlotte slept long, too. She usually wants fed every few hours.
Stroking her daughter’s downy head which is covered in dark, silky hair, Reagan reflects on the nightmare. She hopes it is not a foretelling of their future. She hates mystical bullshit and premonitions or anything of hokum, but it felt so real. She tries, instead, to focus on what she needs to accomplish today and works hard on blocking the images of that dream from entering her mind again. It doesn’t work all that great, and she knows it will be the first thing she thinks of when she turns in for the night later this evening.
Around three in the afternoon, everyone is awake, alert and more rested, even Grandpa, who probably fell asleep in his office. They eat a late lunch made by Hannah and Sue of baked beans, sweet corn, pulled pork sandwiches and fresh watermelon. It feels more like a Fourth of July party than the day after an intense battle for survival. Perhaps this is how their forefathers felt, too, when they won independence from England. Either way, she’s thrilled with the meal until her sisters force her to eat seconds. Then she feels gross and bloated. They don’t miss a beat and lecture her about her calorie intake. Grandpa joins in, too, until she gives him a sneer. He just smiles.
Later, the men do chores and clean weapons until they all meet for a light dinner in the evening. They gather in Grandpa’s office after to discuss last night’s events while the kids take care of cleaning up after dinner. Gretchen volunteers to hold Charlotte while Reagan talks with the adults.