The McClane Apocalypse Book Ten

by Kate Morris

  “Nobody’s innocent anymore,” he says on a sardonic laugh.

  She ignores his comment and his behavior, knowing full well that the men have been torturing and questioning him around the clock. Literally. They have been coming out to the barn in the middle of the night and waking him with an icy bucket of water to the face to question him over and over. By the looks of him, he could be coming close to what Cory calls the breaking point. She sure would be in his position.

  “But many of those people on the roads were innocent. They were just traveling to meet up with family and friends or to find shelter or make a new life for themselves. Killing them for your own gain was wrong. It’s fairly black and white.”

  He shrugs. “Everyone’s killed someone now. Nobody’s slate is clean. We do what we have to do.”

  “But children, too?”

  “Hey!” he states angrily. “That shit was never my plan. I didn’t have anything to do with that part.”

  “Who ordered it then?”

  He looks down quickly as if he’s afraid to reveal too much.

  “Who?” she repeats more firmly.

  His evil eyes glance nervously to the door as if he is afraid she will call in Cory. Then he mutters, “The senator. The new President. That was all on them.”

  She knows he could be lying again just to save his own hide. Not many people would want to admit to being the one who ordered the murders of innocent people.

  “Have you met the President?”

  He shrugs and shakes his head as if he doesn’t even want to bother with her. It is dismissive and arrogant. She knows he has told John and Cory and Derek many times that he has not met the President or Angelica. This could be progress.

  “What about his assistants? Meet any of them?”

  “A few times,” he admits and takes another bite of soggy bread.

  “And what about the woman? Ever meet her face to face?”

  “I’ve met you face to face.”

  Paige is confused by this statement. It makes no sense. “What do you mean? You mean you’ve met me before this moment?”

  “No, but now I’ve met you face to face,” he says, and his mouth splits into a sly grin as if he is holding a secret.

  “I don’t understand,” she admits.

  He shrugs again with one shoulder and says, “You’ve got a follower out there, a fan.”

  “What?” she asks, this time more quietly.

  “Seems you’ve caught the eye of someone,” he tells her. “Course, now that I’ve met you, I understand the attraction.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says and clears her throat. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “The President. The new President seems to find you quite fetching. Not sure he knows you’re married now, though. That’s bound to piss him off.”

  This shocks her more than if he’d said she was a mutant alien with two green heads. Paige is momentarily caught off guard. Then she remembers that this man is cunning and next figures that he is just trying to throw her off course.

  “Oh? And how would this new President happen to know me?”

  “Don’t know. Maybe through your connections to your daddy,” he states as if he knows everything about her.

  This is even stranger. Had her father known the senator they just took down? Had he shared information with the car dealer about her because he knew her father? How would the President know her or her father? There are odd connections somewhere here that she can’t seem to link.

  “He knew my father? The new President?”

  He just shrugs.

  Just because he won’t answer her doesn’t mean that it’s true or untrue. Her father was a senator. He knew lots of people, had even met two different Presidents a time or two when he was working on some bill or another. But the new President, or the former Vice-President as she knew him before he decided to take over the country, would’ve been much older than her, at least by twenty-five or more years. The last time he would’ve even seen a picture of her before the fall, she would’ve been around sixteen or so and a high school student. It makes no sense unless he’s a super creepy pervert stalker.

  “This doesn’t add up,” she tells him what she’s thinking. “The Vice President was how old when this all started? I don’t remember. How could he possibly even know of me?”

  “He’s not that old. I think he’s only thirty-five or so.”

  That doesn’t add up either, but Paige refrains from telling him this. She was sure the old Vice President was in his early forties when the fall occurred. Perhaps the car dealer is confused. Before she can ask another series of questions, he talks without being prodded.

  “Just you wait,” he says as if informing her of some great secret. “Once he takes over, it’ll all be different. It’s gonna be better.”

  “He won’t be taking over anything now,” Paige reminds him. “He’s done. It’s all over. It’s only a matter of time before we catch him and anyone left who’s working for him.”

  “You’ll never catch him. He’s so much smarter than any of you,” he brags.

  “Who is Angelica?” she says, redirecting his conversation.

  “Someone who has done enough to secure herself a very high position in his new regime,” he taunts.

  “Who is she?”

  He clamps his mouth closed.

  “I know you’ve seen her. I can see it in your eyes. You’re lying. You’re hiding something. I can tell.”

  “Go to hell,” he says, his anger rising.

  “I can have my husband, the…what did you call him? The enforcer? I can have him come in.”

  He swallows hard and drops his gaze to the concrete floor of the old milking parlor.

  “It’s your decision,” she tells him and waits for him to make up his mind.

  After a sigh of defeat, he replies, “She’s a blonde. I don’t know where she’s stationed. He trusts her. That much I do know. He trusts her as much as he trusts me, as much as he trusted the senator, maybe even more.”

  “Are you his right-hand man?”

  He shakes his head. “That was the senator. I was just the one who gathered up the army. I brought in new recruits and saw that they were trained properly.”

  “And what does she do for him?”

  “Anything he asks,” he answers with honesty.

  This answer concerns her. “Why would she do that? Give him whatever he wants or needs unequivocally?”

  “Simple. She’s in love with him. Or so that’s what I’ve heard.”

  “She’s in love with the new President? I’m confused. Did she come with him from the bunker?”

  He shrugs. “Not sure. I only got involved with him because we were runnin’ out of supplies. People were getting hungry. They were losing faith in us to take care of them. Then the senator made a connection on the radio with the new President.”

  “And they knew each other before? Someone said something about them going to military academy together or something?”

  “That’s all I know,” he replies. “He told me he knew the new President back from their military school days. Neither was that big into the military. Both wanted to go into politics.”

  “Clearly a field meant for them,” she adds without humor. “What’s the connection to Angelica?”

  “Not sure.”

  “How do we find her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She knows he is lying this time for sure. His eyes refuse to meet hers. Paige rises from the single, metal folding chair and leaves the milking parlor. He’s not going to talk any further until he is coerced. She tells John and Cory what she learned. They both decide to question him again to gain the call sign and channel on the radio he and the senator used to contact the President or Angelica, either one. She doesn’t think they’ll get it, but she also doesn’t want to dwell on what her husband will do to try. Paige is sure that finding Angelica will lead them to the President. She just hopes her husband’s skills as the enfo
rcer will be enough to pry it out of him before it’s too late, before the President makes his next move, before someone in the family is harmed or even killed.

  Chapter Five

  Sam

  She receives the message that Simon and Derek are coming home from Fort Knox and that they will be taking her back to the farm with them. She was also in on the radio call with Dave when he explained what they’d discovered in Fort Knox and the strange red files kept in Parker’s office. They didn’t say why they wanted to pick her up on the way back to the farm, but she’s sure it must be important or John wouldn’t have ordered it so.

  “All packed and ready to go?” Henry asks from the doorway of the cabin.

  Sam startles and spins to find him there. “Oh, yes. Gosh, you surprised me.”

  He closes the storm door behind him and enters. “Sorry about that, Sam.”

  “Make more noise,” she demands with a smile.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he returns with a sheepish grin and asks, “Are you ready?”

  She nods and admits, “I’m a tiny bit sad, though. I haven’t seen my uncle in over a week, and just when he’s coming home, I’m leaving.”

  “Isn’t there a clinic day in Pleasant View tomorrow?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I think there is. Guess I’ll see him there.”

  The flu is running its rounds already, and several children and older people in their own village are sick, so she knows it’ll be worse in Pleasant View, which is much more populated. Reagan as much as said so over the radio the other day. She could use the extra help at the clinic, so her uncle already volunteered according to Reagan. Naturally, Sam will also go to town tomorrow with whoever is going so that she can help out. She just hopes Simon isn’t going.

  “Dave just called in,” he tells her. “They’re five clicks out.”

  Sam grins at their strange communication lingo. Lucky for her, she knows what most of it means now.

  “Cool. Thanks,” she says and follows after him as he carries her overnight bag. She hasn’t been to the farm in a while. She definitely hasn’t wanted to go there, either.

  He places her bag on the front seat of the pickup truck and turns to her. Henry reaches out and grasps both of her shoulders through her thick coat.

  “Sam, try not to forget me while you’re gone,” he teases with a lopsided grin. Then he leans in.

  “Wait!” she blurts and rears back. “Don’t.”

  He straightens and drops his hands from her shoulders. “What is it?”

  Sam just shakes her head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, Henry. It’s just that…I…I just.”

  His grin from a moment ago turns down slightly. “I understand.”

  “You do?”

  He nods solemnly and says, “Yeah, I think I do.”

  “That makes one of us,” Sam says, attempting humor and failing and feeling like a jerk.

  “It’s ok, Sam,” he allows. “You’re just not ready for that. I get it. I’m a big boy. I took a risk, and it just didn’t work.”

  “I’m sorry, Henry. I’m just so confused lately,” she argues, feeling worse and worse.

  He smirks and says, “You don’t have to apologize. I’m not stupid. If you liked me like that, you wouldn’t pull away when I try to kiss you.”

  The truth of his statement hits her like a ton of bricks. It sinks into the pit of her gut the same way and lay there festering like a bad case of guilt. She hangs her head with shame.

  Henry slips a finger under her chin and tips her head back. “Hey, we’re still friends, ‘kay? And someday, if you’re ready, I’ll still be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Her eyes brim with unshed tears as she looks up at him and nods. “Thanks, Henry.”

  “For what?”

  “For just…for just being there when I needed someone to talk to. For welcoming me onto your farm without question and giving me space to deal with…stuff. For being a good friend, a real and truly good friend, Henry.”

  “Aw, shucks,” he jokes with a smile. “If your heart’s not here on this farm and it’s somewhere else, I’ll understand. I just hope you change your mind. You know how I feel. I haven’t tried to hide the fact that I like you. I think part of you likes me, too, but you just have to figure out if it’ll ever be enough.”

  The hard lump of guilt in her stomach rises to the back of her throat, and she has to swallow hard to get it back down. His arms open and she steps into them for a long hug that feels as comforting as the kind her father used to give her. He’s right, though. Her heart isn’t here, not in that way. It doesn’t belong anywhere anymore. It has too many scars that refuse to heal.

  “Come on,” he says and ushers her into the passenger’s seat of the truck. “Don’t want to keep everyone waiting. They’ll be here soon.”

  The lump of guilt morphs into a knot of anxiety at the thought of having to see Simon. Perhaps God will take pity on her, and he’ll have ridden home to the farm in a different vehicle.

  Ten minutes later as the caravan pulls through the gates of the compound, she realizes she’s not going to get her prayer granted. God must be vexed with her right now. She wouldn’t blame Him. She’s a total dolt lately.

  Derek walks over and hugs her.

  “Where’s my uncle?” she asks when she pulls back.

  “He went straight to Pleasant View for the night with some of Dave’s men. He’s going to stay in the house there so he can be ready for the clinic day tomorrow. He has a lot to go over with Reagan in the morning.”

  “Oh,” she says, trying to hide her disappointment.

  “He said he’ll see you in the morning, kiddo,” he says, resting a hand on her shoulder.

  Sam attempts a smile and a nod before Derek turns to join Dave, who is being greeted by his men as if he is their long-lost father come home at last. These men look up to him. They respect and revere him. They joke and tease, laughing and discussing the situation at Fort Knox. Their reunion is poignant and special, but Dave quickly excuses himself as his wife and children join them. They positively cling to him with all the love in the world showing in their eyes. It’s enough to make her temporarily tear up.

  Huntley embraces her next, hugging her close. Then he also excuses himself and runs for the bathroom, obviously in a hurry.

  Then she sees Simon. He’s on the other side of the big truck with the high tarp covering the bed talking with her friend Courtney and her husband Thad.

  “Miss Samantha,” Grandpa says behind her.

  Sam spins and flings herself into him, hugging around his waist and holding fast.

  “Grandpa!”

  The tears in her eyes this time are inexplicable. She has missed him but actually feels a tad on the childish side as she embraces him.

  “Aw, there, there, honey,” he says as he strokes his large hands with the gnarled and bent knuckles over her head.

  Sam nods and pulls back. “Sorry.”

  His mouth turns up into a slight smile, but his eyes belie his concern for her as crinkles form at the corners. “I’m glad you’ll be joining us at the farm for a while. We’ve missed you, too.”

  She nods because it’s all she can manage.

  “I’m going to use the facilities before we get on the road again,” he informs her with a more devilish grin.

  Sam turns and points to the equipment shed a few yards away. “There’s a bathroom just inside to the right, Grandpa.”

  “Sure thing, sweetie.”

  She smiles as she watches him walk away. He doesn’t get around as quickly as he used to. Even the past four years since she’s known him has changed Grandpa’s body. He’s thinner, his hair is shaggy, his beard not usually as well-kempt as when Grams was still alive, and he has a slightly bent forward angle in his shoulders. He still wears his button-down dress shirts and slacks, though. Today with the weather being cold, he also has on a beige Carhartt coat.

  A tap on her own shoulder jars her out of her thoughts about Grandpa’s health
while Derek calls out orders for people to mount up. Sam turns to find Simon looking down at her.

  “Hello, Samantha,” he greets, his eyes narrowing on her.

  “Um…hi,” she returns uncomfortably and has to look away.

  “How have you been?” he asks and steps closer.

  Sam backs up a step and answers, “Fine. Good. You? Have a good trip?”

  “Good? Hm, no, I wouldn’t say good. Interesting, perhaps,” he states in usual Simon fashion of formality and fact-checking.

  Sam has to resist the urge to roll her eyes at him. Instead, she says, “Yeah, I heard. Find out anything else?”

  He pauses, which causes Sam to look back up at him again. “Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder?”

  His statement ends as if he’s asking her a question. She isn’t taking the bait on that one. No way.

  “Nothing that astute, I meant. Find out anything on Parker and his files?”

  He smiles at her evasion and leans one shoulder against the side of the tall truck. There is something about him that seems transformed. She can’t put her finger on it, though.

  “Parker? We’re not sure,” he smiles wider. “He’s not too happy with me, though.”

  This catches her attention, “What? Why?”

  “Oh, we had a few words,” he states cockily.

  That’s it, too. The thing that’s different about Simon. He seems so much more confident, not like himself at all. It’s strange and throws her off-kilter. He just stands there in front of her leaning his muscular shoulder against the truck with his arms crossed, the sleeves of his flannel shirt rolled back exposing his forearms. She can see just a slight glimpse of the thermal shirt he wears underneath the flannel but can’t figure out how he’s not cold. She is, and she’s wearing three layers and her coat.

  She has to clear her voice, “Forearms?”

  “What?” he asks, his brow furrowing in confusion.

  Of course, he’s confused. “What? Oh, nothing. I…I was thinking about…something else. Words? That’s what I meant to ask. You had words with Parker?”

  “A few. Not many,” he quips, grinning crookedly.