The McClane Apocalypse Book Nine

by Kate Morris

  “Yes, they’re all accounted for, no mishaps,” Derek says.

  “How far did the tracks go?” John asks Cory next.

  “About a mile, probably a little less,” he explains. “Then it ran cold once I hit the creek. I tracked across and up and down, found some prints, but then nothing.”

  “Could’ve been someone scouting our farm,” John says.

  Cory shakes his head and says, “I don’t know about that, John. It seemed like they started near the gate of the paddock and went out. I didn’t find the return set.”

  “Then it was a horse that got out,” Sue remarks.

  “Maybe,” Cory says, although Reagan can tell that he’s not convinced.

  “What’s your theory?” John asks him.

  Cory pauses a long moment before offering a slight shrug. “I don’t have one yet.”

  “What about you, Simon?” John asks.

  “I’m afraid Cory could be wrong,” he says quietly. “My main concern is that someone got close to the farm.”

  “That’s mine, as well,” Reagan puts in.

  A knock at the kitchen door calls their attention, and John goes to answer. Robert’s men usually knock. She heard from Sam this morning that Parker was in her grandfather’s office last night, but he had told the man to use their radio when the one in their cabin doesn’t work. She doesn’t think Grandpa meant at two o’clock in the morning, but it’s something they can discuss with him later. The issue at hand is where did the blood on Storm come from and what happened?

  A moment later, her husband escorts one of her father’s soldiers, Louise, who seems to be a good man with a strong spirit and resilient nature, into the entryway to the dining room. It bothers her to admit, but her father seems to surround himself with men like this who have talent and integrity, except Parker, who’d supposedly led his men last night to track the highwaymen, too, and had come back with no valuable information. He’s supposed to be going out again today.

  “Sorry to interrupt your meal, sir,” he apologizes to Grandpa and removes his ball cap.

  “No trouble, son,” Grandpa tells him. “What is it you need to tell me?”

  “Shorty’s missing,” he reveals.

  She knows this is their companion at the cabin, and his nickname was aptly given. He is about her height but strong as a bull.

  Grandpa asks, “Missing?”

  “Yes, sir,” he tells them.

  “Parker told me everyone was at the cabin,” Cory states.

  “He probably thought he was asleep and didn’t knock.”

  John sighs with annoyance at the mistake. “When’d he go missing?”

  “We’re not sure how long. He should’ve been in his bunk, but when I went in to check on him, see why he wasn’t out on patrol with me, he was gone. His bed was cold, not even slept in, still made. I’m not sure where he went.”

  “Do you think he would’ve taken one of the horses for a ride last night and been injured or harmed in some way?” Grandpa asks.

  “No, sir,” he answers. “That’s why I’m coming to tell you. He didn’t like the horses. He doesn’t like them at Fort Knox, either, or back when we lived in Colorado. We used to tease him about it. He always said he’d rather walk than ride one.”

  “Is your friend the sort to disappear like this? Has he ever done it before?” Grandpa inquires.

  “No, sir. Never.”

  Kelly pushes back his chair and stands. There is a familiar tautness in his shoulders that Reagan hates seeing. Cory follows suit, and so does Simon. They are ready for the hunt.

  “The guys and I, we’re gonna go lookin’ for him if that’s alright with you all,” Louise says.

  “I’d prefer it if you stayed on watch here and let us handle that,” John says. “We’ve got more experience with the horses and tracking in these woods.”

  “And if something happens while we’re gone, we get flanked or something like that, you’d be able to protect the farm until we got back,” Kelly adds.

  “Yes, sir,” Louise answers.

  She wonders if her father told these men they had to take orders from the family or if they chose to do so on their own. Either way, she’s thankful they don’t try to interfere with their edicts. She trusts the men to run the farm and its security and doesn’t think anyone else could do a better job.

  Louise leaves to find his friends just as Parker strides with purpose into the house. His expression is angry.

  “Where do you think your man is?” Kelly asks him directly.

  “I’m assuming he’s defected,” Parker answers immediately.

  This comes as a shock to Reagan. “Why would he want to do something like that? Do you really think he’d do it?”

  Parker replies, “Yes, I do. He’d been complaining the last few days about being stationed here and wanting to be on his own. I advised him against it.”

  John looks surreptitiously at Reagan and shakes his head imperceptibly.

  “That sounds strange,” Derek counters. “I just talked to Shorty yesterday morning, and he seemed fine. He didn’t seem upset about anything. As a matter of fact, he said he’d met a woman up at Knox that he was thinking about asking to marry.”

  “He never mentioned it to me,” Parker says with nonchalance and turns to Grandpa, “As a matter of fact, he told me he was interested in one of the women in your town and was thinking about starting a life with her. Herb, would it be alright if I used your radio again? This is the sort of thing the general will want to know.”

  “I was planning on calling my son after breakfast,” Grandpa states. “I’ll let him know.”

  Parker’s mouth sets in a tight line, but he doesn’t argue. “Did I hear you mention you were going to look for Shorty?”

  Kelly says, “Yes. We’re leaving now actually.”

  “I’d like to go with you,” Parker volunteers.

  Kelly glances at Derek, who gives a curt nod. Kelly answers, “That’s fine.”

  Reagan believes that Kelly would like to tell Parker to go pound sand, but Derek is still the authority over such decisions.

  Everyone finishes the last of their breakfast quickly, and they get moving.

  “I want to go, too,” Reagan tells John in the mudroom as he’s pulling on his boots.

  “I don’t know, boss,” he says and eyes her with care. “You should take it easy, sit this out…”

  “I started running again. I rode the other day. I’m back to normal. I want to go. I know these woods better than anyone.”

  “Not better than me,” Cory chimes in, to which Reagan sends a nasty look. “Yeah, she should go. She knows the woods better than us.”

  Reagan hits him with a grin for his quick change in tune.

  “Alright, but bring your .45,” John agrees, referring to her pistol.

  “I will,” she assures him and rushes upstairs to change.

  She’d planned on working in the shed on research today and hanging out with her sisters and the kids. This is infinitely more important. When she returns to the kitchen, everyone is outside near the horse barn.

  “I’m going!” Cory calls out from the back of his crazy stallion with his dog prancing restlessly back and forth near the horse’s hooves, as if she, too, is ready for a mission. The three of them are a trio of terror.

  Kelly waves to him, and Cory takes off at a canter.

  “Where’s he going?” Reagan asks his brother.

  “He’s gonna flank,” Kelly answers. “We’ll head straight in. Actually, I’m going east. You and John are going straight in. We want to cover all possibilities.”

  “Got it,” she replies and finishes tacking up Harry, taking over for Simon. “Thanks.”

  He turns to finish his horse just as Sam is bringing Lacy out of her stall. She’s a young mare that Sam actually started under saddle before she left. Reagan has been working with the young mare on her ground work and having Huntley do the riding. They traded her from a neighbor about four miles away for t
wo steers. She’s a paint quarter horse cross and has a bold chestnut and white tobiano coloring. She’s stocky like most quarters and naturally smooth gaited. Sam loves her.

  “What are you doing?” Simon asks Sam as if he’s surprised she is in the barn at all.

  “Going with you guys,” Sam answers and slings the saddle blanket onto the mare’s back.

  “No way, Sam,” Simon asserts. “Your leg!”

  “I was hurt weeks ago, Simon. I’m not gonna die from a short ride. Right, Reagan?”

  “Um,” she hesitates, “I don’t know, Sam. You could injure it. I haven’t even had a chance to look at your leg since we got home.”

  “The swelling is all but gone. No redness. The stitches are healed and just about ready to come out. It’s like I’m a whole person again. Not holey anymore, just whole as in renewed,” she jokes, getting a scowl from Simon.

  “If you feel up to it, I don’t see a problem. Got your weapon?” John asks as he approaches.

  “Yes,” she answers.

  “Ok, kiddo, just stay close to Kelly,” he says. “We don’t really know what we’re dealing with yet. We could get a few miles out and run into a whole gaggle of these highwaymen jerks.”

  “I know,” Sam says with a sassy nod. “That’s why I want to go.”

  Reagan turns her back to them, adjusts the chin strap on Harry’s bridle, and allows Simon to stew over Sam going with them.

  “John, has Dave called in?” she asks.

  “Not yet,” he answers. “His men are still camped alongside the road. They told him it’s like the creeps are waiting for orders or something.”

  “Hm,” she comments.

  They leave, riding through the pasture and up into the woods with Parker while Sam and Simon ride with Kelly. It gives her an uneasy feeling leaving the family behind, but they’ll still have her father’s men on the farm. Grandpa told her that Chet and Wayne Reynolds know what’s going on. He called them on the radio to tell them while the men prepared for the ride, so they are also on high alert and will stay close to home in case they need them.

  “Here’s the trail Cory told us about,” John tells her, pointing to the ground. “This must be about where it left off.”

  He calls a halt and dismounts. Then he hands his reins to Reagan and goes forward on foot.

  “Wait here,” he tells them. “I want to see if I can pick up the trail again.”

  Reagan nods to him and says, “Be careful, John.”

  He doesn’t acknowledge her order but keeps going and disappears into the woods.

  “I think this is a waste of time,” Parker comments as if he’s bored and looks around.

  “If you thought this was a waste of time, why’d you want to come?”

  His silvery eyes jump to hers with confusion. “Oh, well…this is what the general would want. He’d want me to follow up on this myself and not just rely on others to do the job for me.”

  “Hm,” she answers. “Do you often have trouble with deserters?”

  “No, not often at all,” he says. “Most of the people under our roof, so to speak, are appreciative, grateful.”

  This time, Reagan doesn’t say anything. She hasn’t been around Parker much, but when she is, he makes her uneasy.

  “I think I found something,” John says as he bursts through the brush toward them.

  Harry startles under her, but Reagan pulls gently on the reins which settles him right down. He’s just a little green from not being ridden often enough lately.

  “Follow me,” he orders and swings up into the saddle without the stirrups.

  This makes Reagan smile. A few years ago, when he’d first come to their farm, John wasn’t exactly a cowboy. Now he could give the best of the best a run for their money.

  “Up here,” John calls over his shoulder to her.

  Reagan bumps Harry into a trot and pulls in beside him. They are off the trail and riding into the denser part of the forest. She sees what he is pointing at, a smear of blood against the bark of a tree.

  “It’s about shoulder height,” he says. “I bet this is from the horse’s back rubbing against it and leaving a mark.”

  “Yes, that’s about the same height.”

  He uses his throat mic to tell Kelly and Cory through their headsets what he’s found.

  “They haven’t found anything yet,” her husband tells her since she isn’t wearing a communication set. “Let’s keep going.”

  “Lead the way,” Reagan offers and pulls back on Harry’s reins to allow John to move beyond her. When she glances over her shoulder, Parker is looking more involved than before.

  “We’re going to intersect with Cory in a minute,” he calls over his shoulder to her after cresting the ridge and crossing the top pasture back into the woods again. “Stay frosty. Don’t shoot him.”

  “Got it,” she says and looks over her shoulder at Parker again, who nods.

  “Hold up!” John calls, halting their forward progress.

  Reagan rides up beside him. “What is it?”

  “Yeah, got it,” he says into his throat mic. “Cory’s found something. Let’s go. Be careful. Watch out. It sounds like a worst-case scenario.”

  They pick up the pace, trotting where they can, and find Cory, who flags them down. Kelly, Simon, and Sam canter up to them a few seconds later as Reagan is dismounting.

  “What’ve you got?” Kelly asks after handing his reins to Simon.

  After everyone has tied their horses to branches, Cory explains, “Dead body down in a ravine back that way.” He hooks his thumb over his left shoulder.

  “Is it him?” John asks.

  “Not sure. I was waiting for you. I didn’t think I should approach it unless you gave the go ahead.”

  “Good,” Kelly says. “Let’s go in together. Keep your ears and eyes open, people.”

  They follow Cory on foot to the ravine and climb carefully down the hill. Sam stays at the top with Simon to guard their horses and watch their backs in case it is a trap. Reagan hasn’t been out on any kind of run in a while, so her hackles are already up.

  Finally reaching the bottom, John and Kelly carefully roll the man’s body to face up. It is Shorty, her father’s soldier.

  “Shit,” Kelly remarks.

  “What happened to him?” John asks the rest of the group as he takes matters into his own hands and squats to get a better look.

  “Probably got drunk and wandered up here,” Parker states with confidence. “He and a few of the others have been drinking heavily lately.”

  “Drinking what?” Kelly asks jokingly.

  “They brought homemade moonshine. I told them I didn’t approve, but I noticed it in Shorty’s room the other day. He knew I wasn’t happy about it. They probably decided to get rid of it the fastest way they knew how.”

  His face is disgusted, disappointed even as he tells them this story about his men. He seems like a very judgmental leader.

  “Maybe,” John says and bends to smell the man’s shirt. “Doesn’t smell like alcohol, though.”

  “There is too much blood on his body to have been a fall down this hill,” Reagan observes, drawing nearer.

  “And a long path of blood to get here to this spot, too,” Cory remarks. “Seems like just the amount in the paddock back on the farm would’ve been a fatal wound. It seemed like a lot.”

  “If I had the proper equipment, Grandpa and I could perform a post-mortem exam. Since I don’t, I’d say he was stabbed in the chest,” Reagan observes as she, too, bends over the man. She uses a stick to push his jacket open. Cory helps, and they manage to open his shirt underneath. “See here? Puncture wound. Definitely stabbed. Lot of blood, so his killer missed the heart. He bled out slowly, probably taking quite a few minutes instead of seconds. The blood continued to pump through his heart and…well, out of his body.”

  “Who the fuck did this?” Kelly asks angrily.

  “Somebody came onto our farm, into our perimeter and killed on
e of our guards,” Cory states his theory.

  “Bullshit,” Kelly argues. “There’s no way someone could’ve done this.”

  “When was his last guard duty shift?” John asks with more reasoning and less anger.

  “Last night. I’m not sure. I think sometime around nine or ten,” Parker answers. “I was with two of my men spying on the people who’d just left the Gaylord. When I got back, I assumed he was done on his shift and had gone to bed.”

  “Then how the hell did he end up way out here?” Kelly asks.

  Nobody says anything. Everyone is contemplating his murder and Kelly’s question.

  “Was he on Storm and someone stabbed him?” Reagan thinks out loud. “If not, how’d he get on the horse after he was stabbed? There’s just no way, not with a wound like that. Did he try to use the horse to get somewhere before he was stabbed, maybe to warn us that there were people in the forest? Or did someone stab him while he was on top of the horse?”

  “Someone sure as shit stabbed him,” Cory says. “Storm wasn’t tacked up, either. It’s not like someone who doesn’t even like horses would jump on one without a saddle and bridle. As you said, Reagan, maybe he spotted people out here, but I can’t imagine him catching a horse and riding it bareback and bridleless.”

  “No, the horses weren’t out here,” Kelly states.

  “Right, and Storm was in the paddock closest to the horse barn, too. So why the blood all over the horse?” Reagan asks.

  Again, there is a lull in their conversation as everyone studies the situation.

  Then John finally says, “Because someone stabbed him in the middle of his watch duties, slung him over Storm’s back because he’s one of the friendlier horses, easiest to catch, led it with a lead rope, and hauled his body back here to dump him so we wouldn’t find it.”

  The silence after this declaration is deafening in the quiet of the fall forest.

  “Someone was on the farm last night?” Kelly asks with mounting anger.

  “They weren’t just on our land,” John states with sureness. “They were in the barnyard.”

  Her husband’s scenario sends a shiver down her spine.

  “Son of a bitch,” Cory swears under his breath and rises. “We need to head back. Now.”

  “Hold on,” Parker states and runs a hand through his pale, sweaty hair. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This could all be a big misunderstanding. Maybe you’re wrong. There is still the possibility that he injured himself and fell down this ravine. Maybe he took the horse out and was drunk and fell off. Maybe this has nothing to do with the horse. Maybe a tree branch stabbed into him on the way down.”