The McClane Apocalypse Book Nine

by Kate Morris

  “Gee, thanks,” he remarks irritably.

  They examine the heifer in silence until they discuss her treatment and possible prognosis. He isn’t sure what’s wrong with her. He knows as much about female cows as he does female humans apparently. Maybe she’s miserable like his sister for some reason.

  As they are walking back out of the barn again, Ari comes racing through the aisle followed by her brother.

  “Hey, kiddo,” John says to Sam as they run into him near the milking parlor. “Going with Simon and Kelly tonight? It’s the first spy mission on the hotel.”

  “Oh, um, no,” she answers. “I’m going home after we finish in town. Henry’s coming to get me there later.”

  “No problem,” John says, although Simon feels his blood pressure instantly rise at the issuing of Henry’s name from her lips. “You’re running ragged lately between going on runs, working in our town at the clinic, working with your uncle at your clinic, and…”

  “Wait, what? Going on runs?” Simon butts in. “What do mean? We haven’t taken you with us on runs lately.”

  “I’ve been going with Henry and a few of his friends when they run for supplies. Same as I did when I lived here,” she answers and walks away. “See ya’ later, John.”

  “You got it, kid,” he calls after her. “Make sure you eat a big breakfast!”

  She waves her thumb in the air over her head and keeps going. Again, Simon jogs after her.

  “What’s this about your going with Henry on runs? When did this start?”

  “A few weeks ago,” she answers as she marches to the chicken coop and plucks a wicker basket to retrieve eggs.

  Simon follows but is too intent on finding out more information about these trips with Henry to be bothered with egg collection. The new coop is much roomier and now has a wider aisle to move around in with two rows on either side of the building to provide even more nesting boxes.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?” he asks about their runs.

  “Sure, why not? I like being helpful…”

  Simon suppresses the urge to groan, barely. “You are helpful. You’re single-handedly running that clinic with your uncle. And that’s a lot! Your uncle isn’t exactly very organized, so I know you’re doing a ton of work.”

  She chuckles. “That’s true.”

  “And now you’re going on runs, too? It’s not safe, Sam. Now of all times, it’s really not safe, not with those people out there. These people are psychos. They’ll kill you or take you if Henry’s men run into them. This is crazy unsafe. You shouldn’t be doing runs right now.”

  “Oh, please,” she mocks. “I’m perfectly safe. I’ve gone with you and Cory and John before. What’s the diff?”

  “The difference is that we were with you…”

  “So? Henry and his men have just as much training as you. Some probably have more. He’s ex-military.”

  “Accidents happen. Mistakes are made. Every time one of us leaves the farm something could happen. It’s no different over there.”

  “Simon, don’t lecture me. I’m not going to sit at the compound day and night doing nothing. You really think I don’t know what’s safe and what’s not? I don’t need you to tell me that,” she says and places a few more eggs in her basket. Then she stops and looks up at him. “As a matter of fact, mind your own business. I don’t take orders from you.”

  “I’m not trying to give you orders,” he attempts to explain.

  “I’m just very concerned about this. When you’re over there and not here, I go crazy worrying about you.”

  “Well stop.”

  Sam shoves the basket into his hands and stalks away, slamming the coop door in his face.

  “Damn it!” he swears and kicks a support post. Then he curses something even worse under his breath at his sore toe.

  He sets the egg basket on the floor and leaves the coop, knowing Hannah will send the kids out to retrieve them anyway. She’s a big believer in giving children chores.

  When he arrives in the kitchen, Hannah yells, “Shoes, Simon Murphy!”

  “Oh, yes, sorry, Hannie,” he apologizes and removes his loafers, placing them on the back porch.

  The house is chaotic. What a short amount of time it can take for the farm to go from quiet and calm to downright loud and alive. Someone in the music room is playing the piano, children are bustling around, Sue and Hannah are preparing breakfast, and Reagan is dealing with her baby daughter, who is screaming with a set of powerful, healthy lungs.

  “Did you see where Samantha went, Sue?” he asks near the stove where she is frying diced potatoes in a cast iron skillet.

  “Upstairs? I thought I saw her heading that way,” she tells him without turning to look at Simon.

  They are far too busy to trifle with him, so he makes a clean exit and takes the stairs to the second floor. In the hall, he runs into Paige.

  “Good morning,” he greets. “Feeling well? Is everything alright?”

  She looks surprised to hear this. “What? Yes. I’m fine, Simon. Why do you ask?”

  He doesn’t want to divulge his conversation with Sam, so he says, “No reason. You’ve just been quiet lately is all. Have a fun girls’ night last night with Sam?”

  “Yeah, sure,” she says. “Don’t worry. I only slept in the house last night. I’m coming back to the cabin tonight.”

  He’s relieved she hasn’t argued with him about the move back to the cabin. He doesn’t want her sleeping anywhere near Cory. Last night was merely to indulge Samantha. “I won’t be home tonight, though.”

  “Are you going to spy on those people? Already, Simon?” she asks with concern, her fair brow pinching together on her forehead.

  He nods and touches her arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

  “Who’s going with you?”

  “Kelly and I,” he answers.

  “Oh, I figured you’d go with Cory,” she says softly.

  “No, John wants him to stay here tonight since I’m going with Kelly. John wants to stay in town because he figures Herb will want to since the other doctors are coming to study.”

  “Are they coming here, too? Or just to town?”

  He shrugs, “Not sure. I think Herb is going to set up a temporary research site in town. He’s talking about doing it in the town hall. He said they’re bringing a lot of equipment with them, lab stuff. Plus, I’m not sure he wants a bunch of strangers here on the farm. I must say, I’d agree with that.”

  “Oh, well, where will they all stay?”

  “The townspeople are opening another house for them, you know, the one next to the one where we always stay down the street from the clinic?”

  She nods.

  “Stay in the house while I’m gone, not the cabin.”

  “What do you mean? I thought you wanted me out in the cabin.”

  He frowns. “I don’t think that’s a good idea while I’m gone. I won’t be back until morning. If you’re out in the cabin by yourself, it might not be safe.”

  “Right,” she says with a nod. “I’ll stay in my old room.”

  “Good,” he agrees with a smile. “Is…is everything okay, Paige?”

  Her eyes dart nervously to his, and Simon is left with a feeling that his sister is hiding something from him.

  “Yes, fine. I’m just fine,” she says and avoids looking at him but studies the chair rail beside them. “I’m going down to help with breakfast. Catch you later?”

  “Sure,” he says in agreement but watches as his sister walks away from him. She looks over her shoulder once before disappearing down the stairs.

  Lucas and Gretchen emerge from the room at the end of the hall, and Simon lifts his chin in greeting.

  “Good morning, Gretchen,” he says.

  “What’s up, dork?” G asks in greeting and trots down the stairs like some sort of annoying sprite.

  “Gretchen,” her brother chastises and chases after her.

  Simon chuckles. Keeping
G in check is a full-time job.

  He walks to the closed door of the bedroom that used to belong to his sister and Sam and knocks.

  “Come in,” she calls.

  When he walks in, Sam’s face falls, and she turns back to whatever she’s doing at the desk, probably art.

  “Hey, I just wanted to talk,” he explains. “We didn’t get to finish…”

  “Yes, we did,” she interjects. “I don’t need your permission to do things. I never did. Not really. I indulged your requests, but now I don’t have to.”

  Simon works hard to keep his temper in check. She is vexing him sorely, but he knows this is mostly coming from anger at him, which he deserves. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers. His left hand touches the note in his pocket that she left for him telling him that she’d never return to the farm again and that she wanted to move on from him. He hadn’t gotten a say in that decision. She hadn’t asked his opinion. He carries it with him to remind him that he needs to work every day to let go of their past.

  “No, you don’t,” he says in an appeasing tone, hoping to placate her. “But, I’d like it if you stopped going on runs until we put this highwaymen issue to bed. Please, don’t go on runs for supplies with Henry…”

  “Why? Because you don’t like him?” she asks and stands.

  “Um,” he stammers. “No, that’s not it.”

  “Of course, it is,” she says, not letting him finish.

  Simon draws in a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. “No, I just don’t want to see you in harm’s way. You know how dangerous it is out there.”

  “I think it’s more dangerous in here,” she states and raises her chin.

  Simon has no idea to what she’s referring. He shakes his head with confusion and says, “If you’re not with our group, then we don’t have any way of keeping you safe.”

  “I don’t need you to keep me safe. I do fine on my own.”

  “That’s not true. Nobody should be out there alone. Look at my sister.”

  “I’m not alone. I’ve got Henry and his friends.”

  “If you want to go on supply runs, I’ll take you. Just use the radio and call me.”

  She laughs. It is not the laughter of someone finding humor in something. It is caustic.

  “Get real, Simon,” she says loudly.

  “Then tell me what you need, and I’ll forage it and bring it to Dave’s compound.”

  “I’m going to hospitals and places that used to have medical supplies. My uncle and I are trying to run our own clinic, remember?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  “Well, it takes a lot to get one off the ground.”

  He interrupts and points out, “But you guys have more than we do.”

  “You can never have enough. Plus, there are a lot of pregnant women we’re dealing with right now. My uncle wants to build on a whole new wing for delivering babies and for going out and doing home deliveries for those who can reach us by radio.”

  “Wait a minute,” he states, this time his impatience coming closer to the surface. “You can’t just go out and deliver babies for strangers and whoever happens to have a radio. That’s extremely dangerous, Sam. If the wrong people found out about it, you could be walking into a trap.”

  “It’s only for the Hendersonville area, Simon. It’s the right thing to do. Women need help. My uncle is a pediatrician. He’s not going to refuse assistance to women and children.”

  He doesn’t like the idea, but Simon does realize that she’s right. If a woman were to have a problem delivering a baby, she could die and so could the baby. He just doesn’t like the idea of Sam leaving Dave’s compound. He trusts that it is safe, although he’d prefer she was still with them on the farm. That doesn’t mean he wants her traveling around, assisting home births, and foraging for supplies on runs with the men from Dave’s camp.

  “You’re right,” he concedes. “I know you’re right, but it doesn’t mean I won’t worry.”

  She looks away as if his words have hurt her. It causes a wave of sadness to sweep over Simon.

  Sam clears her voice and says, “Um, if you’re done, I have things I need to do before we leave after breakfast.”

  He is loath to exit her room. Just having her occupying the space, even for one night, makes him long for her to return to the farm.

  “What are you working on? Art?” he asks and attempts to walk past her to take a peek. Sam quickly steps back and into the space in front of her desk so that he cannot see.

  “Are we done?” she asks in a demanding tone.

  “I’d like to talk for a few minutes if that’s okay,” he implores, his hand still touching the letter in his pocket.

  “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Simon,” she says, pokes her nose in the air, and shakes her dark head, sending black waves of silk over her right shoulder.

  “Just a few minutes, please,” he pleads.

  “No, I’m busy. We’ll talk some other time,” she says and turns to sit again. She says without turning. “I have a lot to do, and I still need to pack my bag to leave again.”

  Simon feels like an idiot, which is not unlike how he feels most times, so he leaves her room and softly closes the door.

  The girls have made a feast of a breakfast, an egg casserole with shredded potatoes, peppers and onions from the garden, and ground sausage from the hog they butchered a few weeks ago that he helped process. There is also biscuits and gravy made from leftover bacon grease, the way they normally prepare breakfast gravy that starts with a dark roux of bacon grease and flour. Simon has no taste for any of it since his conversation with Sam. His stomach is sour.

  Afterward, they drive to town in the truck with Doc, Reagan, John, and Sam. The rest of the family will need to stay on the farm to keep watch over it. Later, Kelly is planning on coming to town to meet up with him and head to their first watch on the hotel Gaylord.

  They tend to a few patients at the clinic and check on the Campbell Kids while they wait for Robert’s team to arrive. Most of the children seem to be progressing at the same poor rate of health, and four new cases have popped up. Their fevers are still high, their little bodies mottled with red blotches, and many are weak and dehydrated despite their best efforts to keep the fluids to them.

  Near ten a.m., Robert’s doctors arrive in a fairly large caravan accompanied by Army Hummers, all equipped with heavy guns and enough men to keep the docs safe. They get straight to work and set up and establish a lab with what they’ve brought in two old U-haul trucks. Within hours, they are elbows deep in research and have a full pharmaceutical lab going. They even brought their own plants and growing dishes and microscopes.

  “Dr. McClane,” one of the young female doctors says to Herb next to him, “I’m Dr. Avery. We’ve looked at your charts and notes you sent with our runner that he brought back to the general’s camp a few days ago. We all took some time to study them. You’ve made very clear, concise notations on what you’ve observed. You’ve basically been treating them with penicillin or a crafted version of methicillin, which isn’t working.”

  Herb nods and rubs his scruffy chin, “Yes, that is correct.”

  She says, brushing a wisp of blonde hair back into its ponytail again, “We think that trimethoprim-sulfamethoxazole could treat this better, but we’d like your opinion, Doctor.”

  “That’s what cholera is treated with,” Herb says, surprising Simon that he remembers so much and is such a genius for medicine.

  “Yes, Doctor,” she says.

  “Just call me Herb, young lady,” he corrects with a gentle smile. “I’m not your lead. You youngin’s are in charge of this.”

  “No, sir,” she argues. “When I was still in medical school to become a gynecologist, I read publications written by you in medical journals. Unfortunately, I was in my second year when this all happened, so I’m just honored to be working with you.”

  He just smiles and nods again. “Thank you. You certainly kn
ow how to flatter an old man.”

  She smiles brightly at him as if Herb McClane is a rock star in her opinion. Simon couldn’t agree more. He also idolizes Herb.

  “And just how do you suggest we manufacture trimeth?” Herb asks the woman, who looks to Simon to be in her late twenties or so.

  “We’ve already got a batch ready to go, sir,” she replies and leads them to the research lab, which is just a room in the back of the town hall.

  Herb says to him, “Trimeth-sulfameth will interfere with the synthesis of microbial or bacterial structures. It acts as an inhibitor.”

  “So it could slow or stop the growth of the culture?” Simon asks.

  “Yes, precisely,” Reagan jumps in. “Then the body could heal, but we don’t have access to something synthetically compounded.” Herb turns to her as she continues, “This may work, but I’m not sure how you’re compounding it.”

  “We’ve come a long way, Doctor,” she answers Reagan. “We’ve been growing our own antibiotics in Colorado for about the last year.”

  Reagan asks, “How’s that possible?”

  She turns to speak to Reagan, “It isn’t easy. Trust me. But we managed to do it out there, and we’re having actual success with it here now, too. It’s just difficult because we’re starting at zero again. When we moved here, we simply copied the setup and reproduced the same growing labs and collected as much of the materials as we’d need along the way. Plus, Dr. Galway used to work for the CDC. That helped. He worked in pathology and infectious diseases.”

  “Lucky find having him on your team,” Herb comments.

  “Yes, sir,” she says and opens the door to the new lab for Herb and Simon.

  Doctors in white lab coats are working with equipment, microscopes, and high-tech machines. Simon usually just has a mortis and pestle at his disposal. Heavy plastic covers all of the walls and windows. This is like a real working chemistry lab, and he’s feeling a little envious and more than a little inept. Reagan immediately leaves them to explore.

  Dr. Avery explains, “I’m sorry to say that we don’t yet have the ability to manufacture pills, but we do have enough sticks to give this in an injectable form.”