Lethal Balance: Sons of the Survivalist: 2

by Cherise Sinclair

  PZs. Oh joy. But weird beliefs or not, they were part of Rescue. This was what she’d trained for, what she could do. Serving. Protecting. “Of course.”

  “Take Knox with you as your second.” Regina turned toward the volunteers. “Hey, Knox, you’re up.” She waved the lanky man with bushy red hair forward then pointed at JJ.

  JJ nodded at the handyman. Today, having another person along would be wonderful.

  “You be careful out there.” Audrey’s worried expression held a friend’s concern.

  JJ patted her arm. “We will. Thanks.”

  Crossing the lobby, she smiled at Knox. “If you have a tool box, grab it, and let’s go.”

  With no hesitation at all, he returned her smile and moved forward. “Yes’m.”

  When they were halfway to the door, Regina called, “Hey, Knox. The girl’s already been a hero once today. You drive, eh?”

  “Got it. I was at the school. I saw,” Knox shouted back. He looked down at JJ. “I handle driving and heavy shit. You handle bossing. Fair division of labor.”

  “Works for me.” It really did. She’d probably fall asleep if she got in a warm car and tried to drive. JJ took a bite of Caz’s granola bar. Oats and honey. Boring—and the best thing she’d tasted in forever.

  Holding Sissy on her lap, Regan smiled at her father as he wrapped the long cut on the three-year-old’s leg. The kid’s mom was on a cot in the next room cuz she’d hit her head so hard that she threw up every time she moved.

  “There you go, chica.” Papá’s voice was all smooth and soft and made Regan feel as good as when Sirius purred.

  The little kid had settled down when Papá started talking to her. Her face was still wet from crying, but now she was just sucking on her thumb. The ugly place on her leg was cleaned up and glued together, and Papá was wrapping the white stuff around it.

  Regan knew about all the different bandages now. After Papá got the glass out of her hands and elbows and knees, Grammy Lillian had bandaged her and the other kids up. There were the shiny Telfa pads that Papá said wouldn’t stick to the scabs, and the plain white wrapping, and the fluffy Kerlix gauze, and the colored wrinkly conform stuff that stuck to itself.

  She’d been awful bloody.

  But she didn’t hurt as much when she kept busy helping Papá. Although Grammy and another lady were working in the clinic, and Miss Irene and a guy were doing tree-somethings in the lobby, there was too much to do.

  Papá said he was glad Regan was here to help, too.

  “Hey, Doc, we need you. Got a bad one,” Irene shouted from the front.

  “Dios,” Papá muttered. “Mija, can you stay with Sissy until her mamá can watch over her? Maybe have her lie down and take a nap?”

  “Sure. I got it.”

  His smile made her feel great. “You are the best daughter a man could ever want.” He kissed the top of her head and went to take care of whoever had come in.

  Because that was his job, and he liked his job. Even when it was crazy like this.

  Regan liked it, too. Helping. Being part of fixing bad things. She smiled, even though she hurt, because she knew what she was going to be when she grew up.

  On the way out of town, JJ and Knox had called in a house fire. Propane tanks and earthquakes didn’t mix well.

  Another call went in for a downed power line.

  Knox turned out to be a great driver, navigating past buckled areas on the gravel road and obstructing boulders, branches, and fallen trees.

  Way above them at the end of Dall Road, McNally’s could be seen, perched high on the mountain. “The resort didn’t slide off, at least.”

  Knox followed her gaze. “Bet it’s a mess though. Got a lot of display windows. And tourists panic easy.”

  “Maybe we should—”

  “Nope. Look at the bridge up there.” He pointed to where the road went over a bridge before switchbacking up the mountain.

  JJ’s eyes widened. “The far side of the bridge is out.”

  “Yeah. I’m guessing the bridge’s okay but the road around it got fucked up.” He shrugged. “Fixing it will take a while since the road crews’ll do the big highways first. The Seward and Sterling will be blocked with rockslides and shit.”

  She shook her head. “It’s amazing how dependent all the peninsula’s towns are on those roads.” There was only one road in and out of Rescue.

  “Heh, we have towns where the only way to get there is by boat or plane. It’s why we got so many bush pilots in Alaska. Rescue’ll be all right.”

  “We will.” Up on the mountain, a helicopter lifted off. Probably one of the resort’s tour copters. Just like Hawk and another pilot were ferrying the injured out of Rescue.

  After checking the paper Regina had handed her, JJ pointed to a dirt road. “Turn here. It seems this guy has a ham radio, but isn’t answering calls. His friend is worried.”

  “Okay, then.” Knox parked in front of an ancient log cabin and jumped out.

  JJ followed more slowly, trying not to groan. Breathing through the pain, she studied the building. There was patchy snow and dead brown moss on the wood-shingled roof. No smoke from a stovepipe. Her eyes narrowed as she saw an add-on room had fallen in.

  Reaching the door, she rapped on it smartly. “Mr. Rasmussen. This is Officer Jenner with Rescue Police. Harvey wanted us to check on you.”

  A low groan sounded followed by a faint, “Help!”

  With Knox behind her, JJ opened the unlocked door and moved carefully through the mess. Dislodged by the quake, household articles littered the floor—books, a shotgun from the rack over the door, candles, broken lanterns, pictures. “Where are you, sir?”

  “Lean-to.”

  She followed the sound of gasping and opened a door to the add-on room. A cold wind blasted past.

  The man lay on his back, pinned beneath a pile of logs.

  “Whoa, got yourself in a mess,” Knox commented.

  “No.” Gasp. “Shit.”

  “Hold on, we’ll get you out.” JJ glanced at Knox and pointed to the right wall. “Let’s pile everything over there.”

  One, by one, they moved the logs and finally, Knox hefted the last up far enough that JJ could drag Rasmussen out.

  Holding his chest, the man groaned. “I was beginning to think I’d never manage to get a full breath again.”

  JJ put her hand on his shoulder. “Hold up while I do a quick check.” She assessed for broken bones, head and spine injury, and before she could do more, he rolled and pushed to his feet.

  “I’m good, ma’am.” He pulled off his heavy coat and showed the two thick sweaters beneath before gingerly pressing on his ribcage. “Doesn’t feel like I busted anything, but damn, I’m gonna hurt for a while.”

  Knox snorted. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

  “Yeah.” Rasmussen motioned to the fallen side of the room. “The asshole who built the lean-to did a shit-poor job. I was dismantling it to rebuild it—and the quake decided to help out.”

  “Bad timing all right,” JJ agreed.

  “Yep. Thanks for coming by. I was on the way to freezing to death.”

  “We should take you back to town to let the doc check you out.” JJ led the way into the main room.

  Rasmussen shook his head. “A shot of good whiskey and sitting by the stove, I’ll be fine.”

  “Well.” The man was moving well enough—and they had another citizen to check on. “All right.”

  As Rasmussen settled into a chair, she built up the fire in the wood stove while Knox brought in more firewood.

  A few minutes later, JJ climbed into the Subaru.

  In the driver’s seat, Knox was reading Regina’s first dispatch note, his lips moving. “What’s this word? Pes-tye…” He pointed.

  “Pestiferous. Pest-ih-fer-us.” JJ snorted. “It can mean annoying. Mr. Rasmussen’s friend apparently called more than once and nagged enough to annoy Regina.”

  Knox nodded. “Pestiferous. I like it
.” Handing JJ the note, he started up the engine and headed out.

  As they returned to Dall Road, JJ leaned back in her seat. The pain from her aching muscles and the gashes disappeared under the warm contented feeling. This…this was why she was a police officer. Mr. Rasmussen had needed help, and she’d been there. Her help had made a difference in his life.

  Smiling, JJ glanced at Knox. “Do you know the way to the Patriot Zealot property?”

  “Sure. Why?”

  “It’s next on the list.”

  Knox made a glum noise. “Oh. Fun.”

  Surrounded by forest, the Patriot Zealot compound was off Dall, down a dirt road, and ended at a metal gate with a small guard hut. Six-foot fencing topped with razor wire enclosed the entire compound. Inside the cleared land of the compound, deer fencing protected the vegetable gardens.

  After a glance at the empty guard hut, JJ walked up to the gate. A dirt road ran from the closed gate to a mixture of portable houses and log cabins. In the center of the buildings stood a two-story tower. Although the tower tilted to one side, everything else appeared intact. People milled around the various buildings.

  Since entering the compound was liable to get her riddled with bullets, she made a megaphone of her hands. “Hey. Is everyone all right? Do you need help?”

  Two men broke away from the crowd and jogged down the rough dirt road toward her.

  As they neared, the thin guy with black hair and a beard glared. “What the fuck do you want, cop?”

  Ah, this was the one Caz had told her was Captain Nabera.

  The other man, the so-called Reverend Parrish, made a calming gesture to his captain and slowed to a walk. “Officer Jenner, I believe?”

  She kept her voice calm. “Right. I’m checking on people out this way and stopped to make sure you were all right.”

  “We are, thank you.” Parrish had a richly mesmerizing voice. “Although we do have some injured.”

  “The Rescue Health Clinic is open. If you have critically injured, you can call either the station or 911 for an airlift to the Soldotna hospital. I have first-aid training if you need assistance now.”

  Nabera sneered. “Unlike others, we are prepared for disasters. We don’t need any fucking help.”

  Parrish gave Nabera another stand-down frown. “Thank you, Officer. Should I assume the Sterling and Seward highways are impassible?”

  “I’m afraid so. The quake shook loose more than one avalanche.”

  “Then we’ll bring the injured who need more than first aid to the clinic.” Parrish gave her a thin smile. “We’ve got it covered.”

  “All right, then.” She nodded politely and returned to the car. From what she’d read about militia groups, especially the ones in Alaska, Captain Nabera hadn’t lied. The PZs probably were well prepared for disasters.

  Much like the Hermitage.

  The difference was that the guys at the Hermitage were trying their best to help everyone—even the PZ jerks.

  Knox let her fume for a minute as he navigated a U-turn and headed back toward Dall Road. “At least they talked to you and were fairly polite.”

  She shrugged and let her annoyance go. “True, considering I was a woman in a police uniform. I was half-prepared to be shot on sight.”

  “Eh, Parrish isn’t that bad, although I’m not into that conservative religious crap. They’re too damned hard on their women. Hell, if I told my sister she belongs in the kitchen, she’d take my head off.” He grinned at JJ. “She’s a welder down in Juneau.”

  No wonder he was so accepting of a female LEO. “Good to hear.”

  “What’s next?”

  JJ pulled out the next assignment and read off the address. “We’re looking for Mrs. Hudson who should’ve picked up one of the schoolkids, but didn’t show. The girl said Mr. Hudson went to Soldotna this morning, and her grandmother is alone.”

  JJ snorted as she read farther. “The kid said that, after the little quake, Mr. Hudson wanted to stock up. In case of a bigger quake. Regina drew a face with rolling eyes.”

  Knox laughed. “That’s Regina.”

  When they pulled up to the door of a modular home, JJ saw a car parked under the carport. So the woman was probably home.

  The property was nicely kept up. No old vehicles or rusting barrels in the yard. Leafless bushes lined the front in a tidy row. A plastic-covered greenhouse was in the back.

  Up on the porch, she went through the usual drill. No answer to her knocking and calling.

  Once again, the door wasn’t locked. Rural people just didn’t lock up, it seemed. Opening the door cautiously, she called, “Rescue Police. I’m coming in to see if you’re all right.”

  “Here.” The response was only a whisper of sound.

  JJ headed into the kitchen. An elderly woman lay on the floor, face white with pain.

  “Ma’am.” JJ knelt next to her. “Where are you hurt?”

  “Hip.” Her head slowly turned toward JJ.

  JJ checked—and winced. The woman’s right leg was turned out and shorter than the left.

  “Busted?” Knox asked.

  “Yes. She needs an airlift out. While I finish here, can you call it in and mark out a landing site for the helicopter?” She handed him her radio.

  “Can do.” Knox stepped outside.

  JJ did a quick assessment for other problems. Seemed to be just the hip. As she finished, the woman opened her eyes again. “My granddaughter. I was supposed to fetch her.”

  “All the children are safe at the police station.” JJ grabbed a blanket from the living room, draped it over the woman, and sat down beside her. To keep her company.

  The woman gave her a slightly unfocused look before frowning at JJ’s badge then her face. “Police woman. My daughter told me about you.”

  Told her…what? Oh. Of course. The gossip.

  As Mrs. Hudson’s eyes closed, JJ pushed to her feet, feeling…dirty. Unwelcome.

  “Helicopter’s here.” Knox stood in the doorway, obviously having heard. His brows drew together as he frowned at the older woman then JJ. “Gossip and small towns. Damned if I know how that crap about you got started. It’s not like you’re at the bar every night.”

  JJ pulled in a breath, emotions roiling. Hurt and anger…and shame. Why did she feel ashamed when she hadn’t done anything? Okay, just give the man a polite explanation. “Since there was no housing available when I arrived, the chief lent me his father’s cabin. His brothers live in the adjacent cabins.”

  “Ah. So now you’re fucking all the guys out there?” Knox snorted.

  She couldn’t tell what he believed. After all, he’d seen Caz kiss her in the station. Dammit, she was too tired to be tactful. “Listen, if it bothers you, I’ll drop you off at the station. I don’t—”

  “Yeah, that’s bullshit, woman.” Knox flushed. “I don’t care if you fuck the entire Ice Dogs team. You sure do the job better than the last asshole officer. That lying bastard wouldn’t’ve put his life on the line for anyone.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Jaw set, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Happens that Regina called with two more places to check after this one. We got work to do.”

  Her eyes burned for a second. God, she was tired. Emotional. A mess. So she simply nodded. “Got it. Thank you, Knox.”

  Hawk appeared in the open door and limped inside. “Knox, can you and the medic bring in the stretcher?”

  “Yep.”

  As Knox walked out, Hawk glanced at JJ. “If I’d known you were sleeping with everyone at the Hermitage, I’d’ve come home sooner.”

  She stared at him.

  Humor glinted in his steel-colored eyes, and he almost smiled.

  Huffing a laugh, she turned to prepare the woman for leaving.

  At well past midnight, Caz began to wonder if he’d have to treat every person in all of Rescue. But when he followed his last patient out into the waiting area, no one waited to see h
im. Relief swamped him.

  A couple of hours before, he’d sent his helpers home. They’d been staggering with exhaustion.

  After cleaning up, Caz pulled on fresh clothes and locked the clinic. JJ had left his Subaru in the parking lot. She’d even filled the tank, probably from one of the emergency cans Gabe kept in the station. On the passenger seat, he found a list of the supplies she’d used so he could restock.

  Organized and thoughtful. Dios, he adored her.

  As Caz drove home, he passed downed power lines and fallen trees that’d been chain-sawed and hauled off the road. At the Hermitage, the ski plane sat on the runway. Hawk was home—probably exhausted and hurting from putting in a damn long day. He’d shoot anyone waking him up now, but Caz would check on him in the morning.

  After manually opening the garage door, Caz parked the car inside. And took his first easy breath since the earthquake.

  Home.

  Silently, he walked down the hallway and pushed Regan’s bedroom door open. She’d be asleep. She’d worked her ass off in the clinic until around nine when Bull had swung by and picked her up.

  Caz stared at the bed. The empty bed. Had Bull taken Regan home with him? But the cabin was toasty warm—obviously, someone had stoked up the woodstove.

  Well, no matter how late, he’d go over there to check on her.

  And then, he’d see if he could talk his cop into letting him sleep in her bed.

  In the main cabin room, he stopped and smiled.

  On the carpet in front of the woodstove, two small figures were curled up in a pile of blankets. Regan’s dark hair spilled across her pillow. The other girl… Was that Delaney? They were sound asleep with the cat curled between them.

  A sense of peace swept through him. His girl was safe.

  His amazing daughter.

  After the nightmare of the quake, where she’d led the other children out of that nightmare of a tunnel, she’d completely charmed his clinic patients with her mix of humor and compassion. She’d even taken to imitating his calming tone, and Dios, he’d never been so proud. She was a miracle.