“No, no…” She fired out the window twice more.
Men screamed war cries outside, far closer than the ones plinking at them from the ruins. The van’s rapid turning left and right pushed Harper into Renee, then Renee into Harper. Pill bottles bounced around, making her feel like she’d been thrown in a clothes dryer with a bunch of plastic balls. Footsteps clapped on paving, drawing near. Face down on the floor did not sound like a great tactical position. Harper pushed herself up, swung her legs forward, and landed sitting. She swung the Mossberg around, starting to point her weapon out the window at the runners, but stopped at the whump of a body crashing into the back doors.
Harper aimed to the rear. Thumping and banging came from a guy, no doubt standing on the back bumper, trying not to go flying as Rafael slalomed abandoned cars. She tried to figure out where to shoot at the closed doors to knock the guy off.
A wild-eyed face appeared in the small square window on the left.
Harper locked stares with him, a blue sash fluttering in the wind at his neck. He looked like the sort of crazy man who’d dabble in cannibalism if given the chance. In that instant, something deep in Harper’s brain snapped open.
She stood in the living room of her house, unable to bring herself to kill the man charging at her from the front door. Dad swiveled, taking his attention off the deck to kill the guy seconds from shooting Harper. A man with a blue sash—the same man staring at her through the van’s rear window—burst in the sliding glass door and shot her father three times with a handgun.
The scene replayed in vivid detail in the span of a half second. She had blocked it out, knowing someone had shot Dad, but refusing to remember the sight of it, or the face of the man who’d killed him. Harper had told people over and over what happened, but always said she never saw the man who murdered her father.
But she had seen him.
She’d stared straight into his eyes while he killed her father—and forced herself not to remember.
Having that same man five feet away broke down her mental fortress.
No trace of recognition shone in his eyes; to him, she’d just been some random girl to shoot or kidnap, no more memorable than dinner at a fast food place. A seam of light appeared between the doors. The man, the creature she hated most in the world, pulled the left door open and stepped one foot inside. His sinewy dirt-smeared chest gleamed with sweat, exposed by the tatter of a button-down shirt barely clinging together, flapping in the wind.
The greedy look in his eyes shifted to one of concern when he noticed the shotgun pointed at him.
Harper fired four times so rapidly that the Mossberg sounded like an automatic weapon. “Die you piece of shit!”
The man fell to the road, his scrawny body tumbling over and over like a sack of broom handles. About seven other Lawless jogged to a halt farther down the road, having given up on chasing the accelerating van.
She leapt to her feet and ran to the doors, shooting the bouncing corpse twice more, still shrieking in rage.
Tegan grabbed her from behind, bracing a foot on the still-closed right door. “Careful! Don’t fall!”
Her father’s killer slid to a stop on his chest at the end of a long, bloody smear. She fired again, not even caring if it hit the corpse.
Annapurna scrambled past them, caught a pill bottle before it fell onto the road, then stretched out to grab the swinging door, closing it.
“Harper!” shouted Tegan. “Calm down, honey. Are you okay?”
It occurred to her that her entire body shook. She let her arms fall limp. Tegan pulled her back from the open door, easing her to sit on the floor, still with both arms wrapped around her. Harper dropped the shotgun and buried her face in both hands, bursting into tears as if Dad had died all over again.
“Hon?” yelled Cliff. “What the hell happened back there? Is she hit?”
“No,” said Tegan. “She’s… just upset.”
“Didn’t think that thing had a full-auto setting.” Rafael wiggled a finger in his ear. “Damn shit’s loud, yo.”
Renee crawled closer and hugged her. “Harp? What’s wrong?”
“That’s…” She sobbed. “That’s the man who killed my dad.”
“Damn,” muttered Cliff. “If you want, we can turn around and go run him over a few times.”
“That seems quite unnecessary as I am pretty sure he is dead,” said Annapurna, peering out the square rear window.
Harper barked an unexpected laugh, tears still rolling down her face. “Nah… he’s got friends who’ll shoot us. I’d rather go home.”
“I hear that,” said Rafael.
34
Closure
Harper’s hands still shook almost an hour later when they rolled back into Evergreen.
Coming face to face with the man who’d murdered her father had ripped the scab off the most painful memory her brain didn’t want to confront. Trauma like losing her father all over again far outweighed whatever shock she may have felt at killing the guy.
Rafael pulled around the bus barrier, had a brief conversation with Cameron Black who currently had sniper duty, then drove into town and parked at the clinic. Cliff picked the still-unconscious Zach up and carried him inside. Harper helped Renee walk in, following Dr. Hale down a hall to an office that had been repurposed as a patient rest area. Nine twin beds, all taken from nearby empty houses, sat in fairly neat rows, one containing Fred Mitchell.
Renee sat on the edge of an empty bed, grimacing. Tegan tugged at the zipper of her denim jacket. Renee offered no protest to the doctor removing the jacket, leaving her bare-chested with Fred, Cliff, and Zach (unconscious as he was) in the room. Her friend’s total lack of shame stabbed Harper in the gut with guilt and anger. What did those bastards do to her?
Cliff threw a blanket over Zach and walked out, keeping his eyes politely averted from Renee.
Tegan checked over the stitches, dabbing at the blood with a cloth. Though the wound had seeped a little, she seemed satisfied that the stitches hadn’t pulled loose and guided Renee to lay back in the bed before covering her with the blankets.
“How bad is she hurt?” asked Harper.
“Considering she was shot at close range, she’s quite lucky.” Tegan pointed at the larger incision. “The bullet entered here and struck a rib, ricocheting upward, passing under her breast tissue and exiting here.” She indicated the smaller L-shaped stitching. “It tore some muscle, but didn’t penetrate her lung.”
“Wow,” said Renee. “Lucky.”
Harper balled her hands into fists. I may just hug Walter for giving that idiot a .22 rifle and not a real gun.
“Quite.” Tegan smiled. “I’d like for you to stay in bed a couple days. Harper, why don’t you head over and ask Liz about a couple shirts for her?”
Renee stared up at the ceiling. “Whatever you gave me is starting to wear off. I don’t feel so high anymore and my boob’s on fire.”
“Okay.” Harper patted Renee’s shoulder. “Be right back. I’m sure you don’t want to pull a Veronica.”
Renee giggled for a second or two, then cringed. “Ow. And no.”
Tegan muttered about needing Cliff—or someone to help her move Zach—and walked out.
They spent a few minutes reminiscing about the time their friend Veronica went topless at a party on a dare for about fifteen minutes. That led to Renee asking if Harper had seen any of the others, and a longer session of them both talking about how much they missed everyone. Eventually, they forced themselves to put their catching up on pause so Harper could go get her a shirt.
She hurried outside, intending to come back as fast as she could. Doctor Khan, Ruby, Darnell, Rafael, and Marcie helped unload the van, carrying the medical supplies in the door one armload at a time. Harper hurried across Route 74 to the quartermaster, ignoring the food pickup counter and going straight to Liz’s desk.
“Hi. Got a sec?”
Liz looked up at her. “Oh, hey there. Sure. What can I do
for you?”
“We found Renee—one of my friends—out there and brought her back. She was shot, and Tegan—I mean Dr. Hale—had to cut her shirt off. So she’s got nothing on. Got any shirts or dresses left?”
“Sure we do. Renee, you said?” Liz grabbed a clipboard and wrote her name on a line. “Got a last name?”
“Nichols.”
Liz nodded. “All right. Guessing she’s only got the clothes on her back.”
“Below the waist, yeah. So not even one full outfit.”
“Go on through and grab her some things. Or just grab a shirt for now and she can come back later and pick for herself.”
“Thanks!”
Harper entered the storage area via a door adjacent to Liz’s desk and rummaged shelves for a few minutes until she found a couple T-shirts and a pair of jeans that looked like they’d fit Renee. Once Liz noted everything on the clipboard, Harper rushed back across the highway to the medical center.
Cliff waved her over before she made it to the door. “Hey… you still look pretty rattled. You okay?”
“Umm. Not really, but I’ll deal with it.”
“You’re shaking.” He grasped her hand.
“Yeah. Emotional as hell right now… That guy when I freaked out? He’s the son of a bitch who killed my father.”
“I heard.” He patted her back. “I’m here if you need to talk.”
“Thanks.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I guess they’re right. Revenge doesn’t make you feel better. Now, I’m all just sad and angry again.”
“I’m not trying to replace your father, you know. Just… I dunno, kinda pick up where he left off and do what I can.”
Harper hugged him. “Thank you. I think I about crapped my pants the first time I saw you in the mall, but I really don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
“Ehh, you’d have managed.” He winked. “Maybe with a bit more scars and some mental trauma, but you’re tough.”
She raspberried him.
Cliff laughed, then resumed carrying stuff.
Harper brought the shirts and jeans to Renee, who rushed into one, a black T-shirt with an AC/DC logo.
“Doc said I didn’t have to stay here, but I should mostly rest in bed for about a week.” Renee held up a little paper slip. “And I passed her check. I’m clean enough to stay in town.”
“Nice. C’mon. You’re gonna stay with us.”
“Cool.”
With a grunt, Renee eased herself to her feet.
Harper supported her on the way outside. “Good thing is, the house isn’t too far from here.”
“That’s good,” rasped Renee. “Because I’m not gonna be able to take this for long. Holy crap this hurts.”
“I can shoot Zach in the tit if you want.”
Renee started to laugh, but stopped, cringing. “Ow. Please don’t make me laugh. And no, it’s okay. I was wearing a blue sash.”
“So stupid… why would they do that? Everyone knows that means they’re Lawless and they’ll just shoot.”
“I think it’s mostly so they don’t try to kill each other. And, they think people will be scared of them and run or give up.”
“Is it true their leader took over the Mile High?”
“I dunno. They kept me in a house. We ran around that neighborhood, or into downtown. Never went to the arena or even heard anyone mention it. I think they have like different groups or something.”
“Crap. That sounds organized.”
“Those guys? No way. More like being stuck in a frat party where kidnapping isn’t against the law. Half of them usually stayed too drunk to move. If I wasn’t such a chicken, I probably could’ve jumped out the window and tried to run away.”
Harper wondered if she’d have had the nerve to escape. Now? Probably. But if those guys had captured her and Madison months ago, maybe not. She couldn’t blame Renee for being afraid. The girl who screamed and cried at B-grade horror movies didn’t belong anywhere near the Lawless. She didn’t really belong in a world burned to cinders by nuclear war either, but they didn’t exactly have a choice there. However, she could do everything in her power to protect her friend and keep her comfortable.
Children’s shouts and laughter came from the backyard, so Harper walked around the house, eager to see her siblings—especially Madison who had to be worried as hell.
Carrie Rangel from next door sat on a plastic lawn chair, babysitting. The warm late-March day had evidently encouraged the kids to all go barefoot, the girls to wear dresses, and Jonathan to put on the same khaki shorts he had on that day she’d spotted him swimming out of the pretzel shop. He’d lost enough weight that he’d had to tie a rope around his waist as a belt to keep them from falling off.
Jonathan, Lorelei, Becca, and Mila ran about, kicking a ball around between a pair of ‘goals’ defined by empty soup cans. Madison sat on the little slab porch behind the house, arms folded across her knees, head down.
The sight of her little sister too sad to play wracked Harper with guilt. I had to go on that run. We needed that medicine. Can’t just hide here in town. She sighed out her nose. I can cross my fingers we don’t have to go scavving for a while, though.
“Hey, Termite. I’m back.”
“Oh, hey.” Carrie smiled. “Welcome back. How’d it go out there?”
“I’ll tell you later,” said Harper. “Long story.”
Madison’s head popped up. She spun to the right, staring at Harper and Renee for a second before leaping to her feet and running into a hug. Surprisingly, she didn’t burst into tears, just held on tight for a while in silence. Eventually, she leaned back, tears in her eyes, but smiled. “Har—oh, wow! You found Rabbit?”
“Heh.” Renee laughed into a wince. “Yeah, she did.”
“Her name is Rabbit?” asked Lorelei. “She’s not fuzzy.”
“It’s ’cause she jumps at everything,” said Madison. “She’s easy to scare.”
Jonathan emitted an ‘evil mastermind’ laugh while making weasel hands.
“Please don’t,” said Renee.
“Oh, he’s kidding.” Harper patted him on the head. “And if you’re not, at least wait two weeks. She’s injured. Making her jump could really hurt her.”
“Ack! What happened?” asked Madison.
“Caught a stray bullet.” Renee looked around. “Where can I sit?”
“C’mon…” Harper helped her friend to the back porch and inside.
Madison hovered clingy close, but didn’t get in the way. After leaving Renee on the sofa, Harper went to scope out the bedroom for the addition of another twin bed. Unfortunately, her memory overstated the amount of free space between their existing bed and the dresser/closets. If Renee moved in here, she’d be on the floor or they’d be sleeping while stacked on top of each other.
Dammit! I can’t make her sleep on the floor. Can’t ask her to share a room with Jonathan. It would definitely be too awkward for her to share a room with Cliff. Grr!
“I got started on dinner already,” said Carrie. “Wasn’t quite sure if you’d be back in time. Will Cliff be here to eat?”
Harper headed down the hall to the kitchen. “Yeah, he should be. Not sure what’s taking him so long.”
“All right. Let me add some more then.” Carrie plucked two cans from the cabinet. “Got it started with some of my provisions.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that. We have our own food.”
“It’s fine. I planned on eating here already anyway.” She winked and headed out to the cinder block grill in the back yard.”
Harper hovered in the doorway, watching her. The thirty-four-year-old with strawberry blonde hair looked noticeably younger than Mom who’d been forty-three. She had been flirting with Cliff for a while now, and though she didn’t try to swoop in and play mother to her or her siblings, she did enjoy babysitting. With Harper, she felt more like a much older sister than a stepmom, but that worked. Maybe she hadn’t quite coped with the
loss of her husband enough to directly ask Cliff on a date. How many times would she have to make a comment about rattling around in that big ol’ house all alone before he realized what the woman tried to say?
Big ol’ house… Harper grinned, and ran outside to the grill. “Umm, Carrie?”
“Hmm?” The woman smiled at her while stirring an orangey-brown morass not quite stew but not quite soup either.
“That girl with me is my friend Renee…” Harper gave her a brief, okay-for-children-to-overhear explanation of how they found her. “She’s hurt and… kinda delicate. After what she’s been through, she’s going to need people around to help her. I can’t do it 24/7, but I was wondering if you might, like, adopt her? Or at least let her live with you? We don’t really have any more room in here without a sleeping bag on the floor. Maybe seventeen is too old for adopting. Her parents might still be alive in Eldorado Springs. No idea.”
Carrie smiled again. “Okay.”
“Wow. That was fast. You didn’t even think it over.”
“What’s to think about? I’ve got plenty of room. The house is too much for me alone. And with your friend right next door, it’s easier for you two to spend time together.”
“Cool!” yelled Renee from the couch. “I won’t need a car to come over anymore.”
Harper grinned at living so close to her friend, at having found her alive and—mostly—intact. She’d have to introduce her to Grace. Nuclear war had forced her life off the road she’d wanted it to take and sent it down a bumpy dirt path strewn with land mines and barbed wire. However, two friends, one old and one new, would help her cope. Maybe, some day, she could even pretend this existence was normal. True, she would never again feel carefree, never again enjoy a day where her worst worry was Starbucks running out of the sugar-free mocha flavoring, but what good would it do her to keep mourning that life?
Well, Dad. I got the fu— piece of—. She sighed, remembering how he’d always scolded her for swearing, even after they’d wound up hiding in their basement with most of Lakewood on fire. Hah. Well, Dad… I got him. The guy who shot you.
The World That Remains (Evergreen Book 2) Page 32
