Fire From The Sky | Book 9 | Brimstone

by Reed, N. C.

  “Good,” Beverly smiled. “It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day outside. If you want to use the restroom and get put together, why don't we take a walk afterward? I'd really like to talk to you.”

  “Okay,” Jasmine nodded. “What about?”

  “About you, of course.”

  -

  “Well,” Patricia's voice was only slightly mocking as Abby and Sam stumbled into the house. Sam had stayed to help clean, but Abby had turned out to be one of the people who couldn't stay without making it worse, so she had waited for Sam to be done.

  “Look what the cat has finally drug up,” Patricia smirked, her arms crossed as she leaned against the kitchen door. “I've got some breakfast here if you want it. Scrambled eggs and sausage, with-,” she didn't finish as Abby turned right around to plunge back outside, her hand to her mouth.

  “About what I figured,” Patricia laughed. “What about you, Missy?” she raised an eyebrow at Sam. “I thought you didn't imbibe?”

  “So did I,” Sam muttered. “Apparently I'm a trend follower,” she shrugged. “Since everyone else was doing it, you know?”

  “Oh, I know,” Patricia chuckled. “You apparently did it better than Abby?”

  “I don't know,” Sam admitted. “She may have had more than I did. I didn't last too long.”

  “Hm,” Patricia nodded. “Well, here,” she offered two aspirin and a glass of water that she had waiting. “Drink all the water you can this morning. It will help.”

  “Thank you,” Sam gasped.

  “You're welcome, honey,” Patricia laughed. “Okay, you seriously need to get out of those clothes and get a shower,” Patricia noted as she came near. “Seriously.”

  “I know,” Sam nodded. “That's next.”

  “Use the bath in my bedroom,” Patricia told her. “Gordy is in the hall bath and Robert has already gone to work.”

  “Bless you,” Sam whispered, patting Patricia on the arm as she staggered down the hall.

  “He already did, sweetie,” Patricia whispered back. “He already did.”

  -

  Despite the pain involved in waking up, the night of drunken sharing had been therapeutic for most of the women involved. All of them felt terrible, with headaches and difficulty seeing properly in bright light, yet all of them felt oddly better, as well, as if they had lost some kind of weight they had been unconsciously carrying around.

  Jasmine Webb was also feeling much better. While not having drank a drop, her awakening, as Beverly privately called it, had been nothing short of miraculous. As Jasmine listened to what her behavior had been like the night prior, a slow flush started at her neckline and worked its way up her face as she felt embarrassed and slightly ashamed of throwing herself on to Nate like that. Beverly assured her that while Nate had been alarmed, it had only been for Jasmine's well-being and not at the act itself. She further assured the young woman that Nate was glad he had been able to help her, even in such a small way. Jasmine didn't think of it as small, but didn't say that aloud.

  Further progress was made when the assembled Webb clan scoffed at the idea that Jasmine was somehow no longer related to them.

  “Once a Webb, always a Webb,” Sammy had stated firmly from his place as the new patriarch of the family. “You'll never be alone as long as there's one of us around,” he promised. More tears had accompanied that statement, but these were tears of relief and happiness, so Beverly felt it safe to leave Jasmine in her family's care.

  The rest staggered toward the cabin they shared on the hill top, gathering their toiletries and heading straight for the showers. It would have been terrible for all concerned had they not been given the day off.

  There were several jokes at their expense, and Gordy had little mercy for Sam or Abby, though he wasn't unkind about the whole thing, just annoying. Both made rude gestures and vague threats of unspecified bodily harm at a later date. When they were able.

  Despite how it started, the day wasn't too bad, all considered.

  -

  Classwork began the next day as the new recruits began learning how to work in an established fire team and respond to emergencies on the farm. Once defensive measures were covered, they would begin on field maneuvers. As before, they still had to work on the farm, either in the garden or at odd jobs that needed doing. They also had a physical component every day, as promised. One of which was a class in hand-to-hand combat taught by none other than Xavier Adair and Tandi Maseo.

  “-and then twist here,” Xavier said as he wrenched Petra Shannon's arm around, ignoring a startled cry from the young woman, “and strike here,” he landed a soft blow on the inside of her arm. To her surprise, the blow, easy though it was, forced her to drop her blade, which Xavier caught before it could hit the floor.

  “You have now disarmed your opponent, while potentially arming yourself,” Xavier stated as he handed the rubber training knife back to Petra. “If you don't want or need the dropped blade, sweep it away from the contest as your opponent tries to recover, but not at the expense of pressing your advantage.” He paused and stared down each of the young women present, the weight of his eyes seeming to actually push them back a bit.

  “Always, always, press any advantage you manage to gain, and do not let up for any reason until your opponent is dead, or disabled,” he told them firmly, his eyes blazing and voice hard edged. “This is not a game, dear ladies. If you are engaged with an opponent, any opponent, then take advantage of anything you can, any way you can, to eliminate your opponent. Because that's what they will most likely do to you.”

  “Okay, who's next?” Tandi clapped his hands, trying to lighten the mood after Xavier had darkened it.

  “Me,” Amanda Lowery stated, stepping forward. “Try me,” she almost challenged. Xavier's smile was similar to what Samantha Walters imagined a shark's would be when seeing a bleeding seal in the water. She fought not to shiver.

  “Of course,” Xavier bowed slightly as he stood, waiting. Lowery took two steps to close the distance before suddenly launching into a spinning heel kick. As her foot came up to kick Xavier Adair in the head, hopefully knocking that damnable smirk from his face, she felt hands wrap around her ankle and calf, and suddenly found herself face down on the floor of the barn, her leg pulled up behind her into what wrestlers called a half-crab. Lowery cried out in surprise, and in anger, immediately trying to reach around her to grab some part of Xavier's body to gain leverage.

  “First mistake is allowing your face to telegraph your intentions,” Xavier told the rest of the young women as he continued to hold on to the struggling Lowery. “Second mistake is allowing confidence in your own abilities to override your caution of your opponent. Always go into a match with the idea that your opponent may know something that will give them an advantage. Third mistake,” he stepped aside, flipping Lowery onto her back as he released her leg and stepped back, “is allowing emotion to enter into your thinking. You don't hate, fear, despise, sympathize, empathize, think of your opponent in any way whatsoever, other than as an obstacle that must be overcome and eliminated. Do not let your emotions cloud your thinking, guide your actions, or give away your intentions.”

  Xavier looked down at Lowery who was still on her back, staring daggers at him from the ground.

  “Would you care to try again?” he smiled as he extended a hand to her to assist her up. She grabbed his hand, and then his arm, wrapping her legs around his arm and trying to execute an arm bar take down and submission hold.

  Xavier surprised her again, this time by not resisting her move, and simply rolling with it, across her torso and then back to his feet, free of her grasp. His foot had already risen when Tandi yelled.

  “Red!” the small medic snapped out. Xavier froze, looking down at Lowery with his face devoid of emotion. For her part, Lowery stayed very still, prepared to defend herself even if she was no longer sure she could. The look on Xavier Adair's face was concerning to say the least. Some would say terrifying, i
n fact.

  Slowly, Xavier set his foot back onto the barn floor, his face never leaving his opponent, for that was now what she had become in his eyes.

  “It really is rather rude to abuse a hand extended in aid, my dear,” he suddenly smiled, and again, Samantha Walters had a vision of a shark, not necessarily a hungry one but simply one following a trail of blood, swimming in for the kill. Not a meal, just a kill. Then, Xavier took a step back, nodding at Tandi before taking his place next to the medic.

  “Let’s change things up a bit,” Tandi again clapped his hands, bringing the air of anticipation to a close. Lowery slowly got to her feet, looking at Xavier Adair as if she'd never seen him before.

  “Next up we'll look at some leg work,” Tandi continued, drawing her attention to him. “Miss Lowery, since you seem to already have some training in that area, I'll ask you to assist me.”

  -

  “What do you think, Doc?” Corey asked as he and Gordy sat on a bench side-by-side, awaiting her decision. She had given each of them the same physical she had performed on literally thousands of soldiers going into a combat zone over her years in the Army, sparing neither dignity nor privacy. She looked unhappy as she stared down at them.

  “I want to say no,” she told them flatly. “I really do. But I honestly can't,” she admitted. “Both of you have passed the physical, even if only barely in your case, Corey,” she told him with a raised eyebrow. “I would much rather the two of you be a bit more easy at getting back into the groove, but, I can't argue with your results. As bad as I hate to say it, and I mean that, you're both cleared for duty.”

  “Yes!” both boys cried at once, fists raised and then bumping against each other’s.

  “Are you that eager to go back into action?” she asked them softly.

  “It's not about going into action, Doc,” Corey said, losing his enthusiasm in the face of her scrutiny. “It's about being able to do our part.”

  “He's right,” Gordy nodded, almost solemn. “There's so few of us, and so much we still don't know about what's going on in the world, we can't afford to be down if we can manage to be on our feet and helping. That's why we worked as hard as we did,” he ended with a shrug.

  “Well, I can't argue with that, either,” Thatcher sighed. “Please take care not to get shot again?” she asked nicely.

  “We will do our absolute best, that I promise,” Gordy swore. “Getting shot sucked.”

  “Getting shot twice, or actually being shrapnelled, is that a word?” Corey asked Thatcher. “Anyway, being hit twice sucks twice as much,” he affirmed without waiting for a reply.

  “Get out of here, both of you,” she had to smile at their antics despite what she thought of as bad news. “You're both free from restrictions, but please exercise some common sense as you ease back into working. Your muscles need time to get their memory back!” she raised her voice as the two beat a hasty trail for the clinic door even as she spoke.

  “We will!” both promised over their shoulders as they disappeared out the door.

  -

  Gordy and Corey were not the only people getting physicals today, either.

  “So, what's the verdict?” Sienna Miller asked hesitantly as Thatcher examined her neck.

  “You're healing well,” Thatcher told her, stepping back. “I think you're okay to go back to work, but exercise caution when lifting for a few days yet and ease back into anything strenuous. If you feel a pull, or God forbid a tear anywhere in your neck, stop whatever you're doing immediately. If it feels like a tear, come find me right away.”

  “Will do,” Sienna promised, putting her blouse back on. “I admit, it was getting boring to just sit around.”

  “You've sat in the garage nearly every day with Jake Sidell,” Jaylyn raised an eyebrow at the former MP. “How boring could it get? You already spent as much time in the garage as you could, you Grease Monkey,” Thatcher used the paper in her hand to pat Sienna's forehead.

  “Yeah, but telling him he's wrong isn't nearly as satisfying as showing him he's wrong,” Sienna grinned back. “I need to be down there with him, showing him what's what.”

  “He's been a mechanic most of his life, I understand,” Thatcher's eyebrow crept a little higher. “And these kids are much like the ones back in Texas, so I hear. Rather pull an engine out with a tree limb and rebuild it on a picnic table as to eat,” she laughed lightly.

  “That doesn't mean he did it right!” Sienna argued, laughing herself as she made for the door. “Thanks, Doc!”

  “Didn't really do anything, but you're welcome,” Thatcher replied.

  -

  “Damn!”

  “That hurt?” Thatcher asked as Shane Golden sat on the table in front of him.

  “Not at all,” he replied sarcastically. “I usually hiss and cuss like that when I'm feeling good.”

  “Let’s not be a smart ass to the doctor while she's checking you out,” Kandi Ledford said from behind him, where she watched.

  “Let’s not refer to a physical exam of a wound as me 'checking him out', either,” Thatcher laughed as she continued to poke and prod at the long scar across Shane's shoulder.

  “Don't hide the pain, Rat,” she warned him when he winced once but didn't say anything. “I need to know if it hurts, and where.”

  “Isn't it always going to hurt?” he asked her over his shoulder. “A wound this deep?”

  “It may always give you some trouble,” she admitted. “But this particular kind of wound, with no damage to tendons, bones or other vital areas, usually doesn't continually hurt or give you problems. Your main issue was blood loss, which we've pretty much eliminated by building your blood back up where it should be.” She stepped back from him, allowing him to turn to face her.

  “This is the second time today I want to say no, but can't really justify it,” she sighed. “The wound is still tender, and I'd imagine it hurts worse than you're willing to admit, but I don't see anywhere that it's in danger of bursting open again. However… however!” she raised her voice as Shane almost jumped off her table.

  “However, hotshot!” Kandi echoed, and Shane froze. Thatcher had to fight not to laugh at how easily the blonde could control one of the most dangerous men she'd ever met.

  “However,” Jaylyn continued in a calmer tone, “I would like for you, as with the others, to ease back into things in case we've missed something in your wound, or more likely,” she said sarcastically, “that you've hidden it from me, and putting strain on your shoulder pulls on the wound. Please?”

  “He'll do it,” Kandi answered for him, and Thatcher couldn't hide her laugh this time as Shane's face turned red.

  “Get out of here, you two,” she ordered, making a shooing motion with both hands. “Play footsie somewhere else!”

  “Hey!” Shane grinned suddenly. “Doctor's orders!”

  “Dream on, soldier,” Kandi snorted. “Let’s go.”

  -

  “Stacy, you seem to be getting around much better,” Jaylyn noted as the soldier walked in without using his cane.

  “I'm good,” Stacy Pryor agreed. “Leg holds my weight fine, and hurts less than I expected. Which is good, because I seriously need to be working toward getting back in shape.” He slid up on the table.

  Jaylyn probed the wound carefully, clearly pleased with what she found.

  “I think you can get back to working out, Stacy,” she said finally. “This is going to be sore at times, but I suspect you already know that,” she raised an eyebrow at him. “There was no bone damage and the muscle seems to have healed fine. All I ask is that if you feel anything off, you stop what you're doing and come see me right away. We don't want anything to cause a setback for you.”

  “Sounds good, ma'am,” Stacy slid off of the table. “I appreciate it.”

  “I'm glad to be here to do it,” she assured him. “Remember. Ease into things, and gradually ramp the pressure up.”

  “Will do.”

  -
<
br />   Amanda Lowery was angry. She stalked around Building Two trying to burn off some of that anger, and just happened to run in to Xavier Adair and Zachary Willis.

  “No, not there,” Xavier was saying as Zachary struck with a training knife. “Once you have ensnared the arm and positioned it out of your way, use your shoulder strength to drive the blade through the side and between the ribs.” He demonstrated what he wanted Zach to do.

  “I have to twist the knife to get the blade horizontal, so it doesn't get blocked by the ribs,” Zach nodded understanding as he backed away. Which let him see Lowery standing behind Xavier.

  “Got a visitor,” Zach nodded slightly in Lowery's direction.

  “I know,” Xavier smiled. “Care to join us, Miss Lowery?” he raised his voice.

  “Is that all you do, practice killing people?” she demanded, walking slowly forward.

  “Pretty much,” Zach nodded. “It's what we do,” he shrugged, as if the notion gave him no more trouble that taking out the trash. Which, it didn't.

  “What do you two do for fun?” she demanded. “You both need to get unwound,” she added, hands on her hips. “You especially,” she looked at Xavier.

  “You are wound pretty tight, X,” Zach nodded seriously, the corner of his mouth twitching as he fought not to grin.

  “Your input in this discussion is neither needed nor desired, apprentice,” Xavier replied loftily, which for him was about as playful as he got. He turned to face Lowery.

  “What do we do to unwind, you ask?” he looked at her closely. “We stand ready to commit acts of great violence, for the most part. We train every day to be able to do this, you may have noticed. As my young and somewhat mouthy apprentice noted, that is our vocation.”

  “So, by volunteering, it's my job, now?” Lowery asked, crossing her arms in a defiant pose.

  “Actually, no,” Xavier surprised her. “None of you are as capable as the rest of us, I'm sad to say. You will most likely be used in a defensive role, which will allow the rest of us to venture out into the world and kill people and break things, to use Zachary's somewhat simple approach to the issue.”