The McClane Apocalypse Book Eight

by Kate Morris

  “Got it,” Simon says firmly.

  “Over there,” Thad says, pointing to the small window. “See what you can do. I’m going back out.”

  Simon sets up his rifle in the window and spies through his scope. He watches a man outside the compound’s gate run in front of a small truck, backlit by the headlights. The man blasts off a few rounds toward the fence and gate. Simon takes a steadying breath and squeezes, disabling the man with a shot to his leg. Two cars fly in from the south and pull up behind the truck. At least a half dozen men immediately jump out and begin shooting through the fence at Dave’s men. Simon shoots and kills one of them with one shot. He attempts to do so on another but misses. He slows his breathing further and expels a heavy breath of air.

  Dave’s men are laying down a barrage of suppressive fire. He sees through his scope some of Dave’s soldiers take an offensive position on the other side of the road in a gully, having flanked the men parked there. He’s not sure how they managed it, but he’s glad they did. They push forward catching the men in a crossfire situation. Some swing toward Dave’s men and others try to keep shooting at the fence and gated area and through the sections where there is chain link. He hears a woman scream out in terror or pain. Simon hopes it isn’t one of the women on the compound being shot but just one that is frightened.

  Simon aims at another man near the front of the first car and fires. It’s a direct hit to the chest, and the man falls backward, splayed on the hood of the car, the spray of his blood staining the windshield.

  They are shouting orders at one another. Some of it sounds frantic. A man between the two rear vehicles lobs a grenade over the high fence protecting Henry’s farm. It makes a loud boom when it lands. Simon keeps his cool and squeezes. The shot disables the human grenade launcher, and he falls to the pavement with a scream of pain. Dave’s men continue to rain down fire from the opposite side of the road, but he no longer sees them. Every once in a while, Simon catches sight of a red flash from a tracer round from deep in the brush where Dave’s men must be concealing themselves. It’s a solid tactic and one that seems to be working. Two more men fall to their deaths on the road.

  The squealing of tires to the west draws Simon’s attention. Another vehicle approaches at a high rate of speed and comes to a screeching halt at the scene. It’s a full-size black van. At least eight men jump out and join the fight. They are stealthier and immediately take cover behind their vehicle and the others in the street. Simon zeroes in and takes out the driver before he can even get out of the van or move it if that was his intention. It’s a clean kill.

  Shots ring out at a constant pace as they trade fire with the enemy. Simon reloads and takes aim again. He wants to hit one of the newcomers. A squatting man who has not concealed himself well enough has his back to Simon and his left shoulder leaning against the side of the van. They obviously don’t realize he is in a high, sniping position. Simon squeezes, and the man goes down in a slumping posture with his forehead resting on the pavement. He does not move again. His friends scatter and try to take cover. Simon is able to lead one and wing him in the calf. His friends pull him to cover. This is life or death, this fight. His only concern is keeping these men from breaking in. Samantha is in here.

  His teammates’ voices grow very loud in the yard below him, and Simon watches as Dave strolls calmly into the melee without a care in the world. He is shouting orders to his men. Simon isn’t sure how they got into the compound, likely from a side entrance, but he’s glad they are here.

  He takes a shot at another man from the black van who has become unwisely brave and is standing slightly exposed but only manages to clip his boot. He screams in pain, too. It was the only thing sticking out of the side of the van that he could aim at. They are smarter than their comrades from the cars and the truck. Instead of wasting time with another miss, he concentrates on a different area. A man runs toward the gate and manages to toss something over. It immediately explodes, but Simon doesn’t think it was a grenade this time. He is swiftly taken out by Dave’s men.

  A second later, another item is tossed near the entry gate, which also explodes but with a much louder boom. The gate is now hanging askew. Simon wonders if they will be able to breach it. He sweeps right and looks through his scope in time to watch yet another man mimic the other two, tossing his own device over their fence. This one lands closer to the house where he is hiding in the attic and sniping. Simon zeroes in on the man who threw it. He sites in and…pop. The man goes down in a cry of agony. Someone from Dave’s group takes the kill shot. It doesn’t matter to Simon who does the killing, as long as it gets done efficiently.

  The battle seems to rage on for hours but is, in reality, likely only about twenty minutes. The men in the black van retreat first, but not before everyone takes a shot at their vehicle. They are able to speed away even though their headlights are off, leading Simon to believe they were wearing night-vision gear. A few of the remaining fighters jump into the truck and also take off. Simon shoots one in the bed of the small truck, killing him instantly with a headshot.

  He rushes from the attic and out the back door to the yard where he jogs over to Dave in the crowd. Men continue to pound at the remaining creeps in the road.

  “Eliminate whatever survivors are out there. Keep anyone who’s injured alive for questioning,” he orders his men. “Rusty and Tank, take a team and go after those fuckers!”

  “Anyone hurt?” Simon yells over the shooting.

  Dave points and says, “Over there. They’ll need your help, Professor. Someone fetch Dr. Wallace. Get a room ready!”

  Two of his men quickly return with, “Yes, sir!”

  Simon runs to the men near the side of a building who have been dragged there by their comrades in arms. A woman is, indeed, there and has very obviously been shot. Before he can even press a bandage to her abdomen, she dies. She has bled out, which is very evident by the amount of blood on the ground. It bothers Simon, but he has to push aside his shock and assist the living.

  Sam and her uncle show up a moment later with his bag of emergency supplies. They work on stabilizing their three patients before having the men move them to the men’s barracks where they’ve established an emergency clinic. He works with Sam and her uncle for the next two hours sewing the poor soldiers back together, either from gunshot wounds or shrapnel spray. He’s thankful they have such a surplus of medical equipment and supplies. It is nearly midnight when they get their patients bedded down and resting for the remainder of the night. He and her uncle scrub up at the sink, and Sam goes to the women’s bunkhouse to shower. She received a sizable splash of arterial spray when her uncle had placed heavy pressure on a man’s thigh wound. Scott volunteers to stay up and keep an eye on their patients as Simon seeks out Dave and his men.

  He finds them in the top of the cattle barn interrogating two men. It looks as if it is not going well since both men are badly beaten and bruised.

  “Oh, you’ll talk, motherfucker,” Dave is saying as Simon enters the space. He sends a grin toward Simon and then goes back to lecturing. “You assholes think this is my first questioning?”

  One of the men spits on the ground in front of Dave. His saliva is heavily mixed with blood.

  “Nah, me and my boys used to do this for fun in our downtime. You’ll talk. Your buddies abandoned you, but I got you, bitch. You’re mine now. I got you for as long as it takes. You’ll talk.”

  “Are you the ones robbing people on the roads?” Henry questions, his stance one as formidable as granite.

  No answer. Another soldier punches the side of the man’s face, the one to whom Henry was speaking. This goes on for another hour until Dave finally kills the one in front of the other. Simon has to look away. Everything about being a doctor goes against this sort of treatment of human beings. However, he wants answers, too. People were hurt, killed tonight. Sam could’ve been killed. They need this last remaining man to give over secrets so that the people he cares about d
on’t get their blood spilled by the enemy.

  The man finally breaks a half hour later and talks.

  “Yes, we’re the ones. It’s us,” he says weakly as blood drips from his face in several places and from many open wounds.

  “Where’s your location? Where are you holed up?” Dave asks.

  He laughs, maniacally and without a care for the consequence of doing it.

  “Answer or we’ll take care of you the same way we did your friend here,” Dave warns.

  More laughter.

  “I’m not so sure I’d be laughing if I were you, boy,” Dave taunts the man, who is clearly not a boy.

  The man laughs again. Henry punches him.

  “Not so funny now, is it?” Dave asks.

  He chuckles. “You’ll see. You’ll see who you’re fuckin’ with soon enough, assholes. You’re so fucking screwed.”

  “Unless the Spartan king Leonidas is in charge, I’m feelin’ pretty sure of my abilities to defeat your fearless leader just like we whooped your asses tonight,” Dave says.

  “You’re so outnumbered, you have no fuckin’ idea,” the man says with a chortle.

  “Enlighten me to these great numbers you have,” he jeers and squats in front of the man, who is tied to a chair.

  “Over six hundred, asshole. Like I said? You’re fucked.”

  And for the first time, maybe since joining the McClane family, Simon feels like they may just be defeated.

  Chapter Ten

  Paige

  She feels terrible for the way she broke things off with Cory the other day, even if he seems to have completely ignored or blocked everything she said and is acting like they are still in a secret relationship. He drives her crazy. But she’d needed to do it. It isn’t right to lead him on, especially since she is so steadfast on the direction she wants her future to move. Being involved with Cory put more than a wrinkle in her plan. He’s the worst possible scenario. Paige’s feelings for him were growing, and she wanted to put an end to it. The only possible outcome is Cory is killed on a mission, and that isn’t something she can go through. Her only concern needs to be keeping herself and her brother alive another day. The highwaymen alone may end up raiding their farm and killing most of them. As intimately as she knows Cory now, Paige is positive he’d throw himself in harm’s way to protect the family, which means he is killed. Every conclusion is always the same. Cory is killed. She’s not going through that.

  She plods through any result that means he isn’t killed in the end and comes up short every time. It’s a good way to pass the time as she sits on her bed reading a book- one that Cory looted in a bookstore in Nashville about ancient Greek architecture. Her postulations also reaffirm in her mind that there is a zero percent chance that she and Cory marry, have the children he wants, and they live happily ever after. He’s going to die from some bizarre disease, plague or pox, or he will be killed, murdered by cruel, insensitive people who only have their own greedy interests at heart. No thanks to any of those possibilities.

  The pregnancy test that she took the night before she ended it with Cory came back negative, something for which she’d readily thanked her maker. When Reagan had suggested that she passed out due to being pregnant, it had made Paige consider that she was so. Stealing the test from the clinic had made her feel guilty. Sneaking around behind her brother’s back also gives her a dirty conscience. Simon is the most important thing in the world to her. She doesn’t want to hurt him unnecessarily by being secretive and immoral. She was just relieved when the stick showed a negative symbol. Seeing the positive one pop up might’ve made her pass out again. She wrapped it in paper and hid it at the bottom of the wastebasket in her bedroom. She certainly doesn’t need anyone to find it. That would be slightly difficult to explain, another reason that she has to stop sleeping with Cory. She doesn’t want the lies, nor an unexpected pregnancy.

  Paige has no doubts that she’ll never have children. That just isn’t going to be a part of her future. As safe as the farm is, there is always a danger, a predator lurking out there now. Her children could someday end up like she did, out on her own in the wilds of new America dealing with evil people. She desperately wants to believe in happy endings and marriage and babies and family, but that isn’t going to help her and her brother survive. Those are the fantasies of a naïve schoolgirl, someone she used to be.

  “Hey!” Reagan says, barging into her room. “Something’s going down over at Dave’s. You’d better come downstairs.”

  Reagan leaves a second later, and it takes a moment for Paige to catch on to what she means. She slams the book shut and rushes down to join the family in Doc’s office where Derek is using the new radio to communicate with Dave’s camp.

  “What’s going on?” Paige whispers to Cory who is standing farther away from the family members who have assembled around Doc’s desk.

  He is biting the inside of his cheek as he rubs at the stubble on his jaw. “Not sure yet. Sounds like they’re under attack.”

  This frightens her. Simon is over there. She listens intently as Derek turns the knob on the radio and speaks into the mic. Dave’s voice comes back at them as Paige remembers that Sam is also over there.

  “I’m going,” Cory announces and turns to go.

  John stops him with a firm, “No. We’ll wait and see. Don’t run out just yet.”

  It is hard, but he stays. Paige can read the frustration in his stance, the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard stare of his dark eyes. He wants in this, whatever it is.

  “Wait,” Derek says to them. “I’ve got a better link. Hold on.”

  He adjusts the radio again and gets a clearer connection with Dave. The attack is over. People are injured or dead. They believe it was the highwaymen. They are calling an emergency meeting. At first light, they are heading this way. Paige thanks God. She hopes Simon returns home and does not go back there ever.

  “Is Simon coming?” she blurts her feelings without a care for what people might think.

  “Maybe,” Derek says.

  “Make him come home, Derek,” she openly pleads. Derek nods and issues the request to Dave. The radio goes dead, so she’s not sure if her brother is coming or not. Paige will never sleep tonight.

  “Don’t worry. He’s fine,” Cory assures her.

  She frowns, not sure if she should believe him. She won’t rest until Simon is back on the farm with her, and she can see for herself that he is unharmed.

  “How do you know?”

  Cory touches her shoulder, his hand warm and comforting, “If he was dead or injured, Dave would tell us. Same goes for Sam. They wouldn’t make us wait till morning to find out.”

  The family discusses the situation, what little they know of it, for a long time before John notices his wife asleep on the sofa behind them. Paige consults the antique clock on the mantel and notes that it is after two a.m.

  “Everyone, go to bed and get some rest,” Doc says. “We may be needed tomorrow. Who knows in what capacity, but we should be prepared for this meeting and whatever might be coming this way.”

  “I’ll take watch,” Kelly says.

  Lucas hops to his feet as if it is early afternoon and he is full of energy. “I’ll help.”

  Derek nods and says, “John, I’ll pull you on at dawn with Huntley.”

  “I can keep watch then,” Cory says.

  “I figured you’d want some sleep,” Derek says with a grin as he tosses his pen onto Doc’s desk. He’d been taking notes on their assessments of the situation. Cory shoots him a quizzical look. “What with all the nights you’ve been gone and such.”

  Cory’s gaze narrows, and he leaves the room but not before Derek calls out for him to go to bed and stay there. Cory snorts loudly from the hall.

  Paige catches him in the hallway and grabs his forearm to stop him, “What was that all about?”

  “Nothing,” he lies.

  She sends him a look that lets him know she doesn’t believe this.
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  “Just been going on some scouting runs,” he tells her.

  “By yourself at night?”

  He smiles, “Yes, Red. At night. All by my lonesome. I’m a big boy. Remember I lived alone for almost a year? I think I can handle a few nights of tracking by myself. Well, one night I let Huntley tag along. He needs to learn. Kid’s a good tracker, but I was able to teach him a few new tricks.”

  “Cory, that’s not safe. You shouldn’t be going anywhere all alone.”

  “Well,” he pauses and grins, “you won’t let me come up and visit you upstairs, so I gotta do something to pass the time.”

  She glares and slaps his shoulder. “Stop. That’s not funny. Someone could…”

  She pauses as Sue pushes her husband past them in the wheelchair. They both look exhausted.

  “You’re ridiculous,” she says when they are gone.

  “Just spittin’ the truth.”

  Paige rolls her eyes, then narrows them at him. “Be careful what you say. There are too many people in this house to go around joking like that. You’re going to raise suspicion. More suspicion.”

  “I wasn’t joking. That’s the part you don’t get.”

  He yanks her to him, kisses her on the mouth and retreats before she even has the chance to react. Paige groans and goes to bed. So much for breaking up with him. She doesn’t sleep much because her mind either focuses on Cory and her feelings for him, or it travels to Dave’s camp and worries about her brother and his welfare.

  The bark of Cory’s dog alerts her in the morning that they have company. She fell asleep for a few hours despite her distress. Paige quickly dresses and pulls her hair into a ponytail. She races down the stairs and out the back door in her bare feet. Expelling a sigh of relief at the sight of Simon, Paige is also relieved to see Sam get out of Dave’s new truck, as well. Sam steps down from the extended cab door, and Simon jumps to the ground over the side of the bed. She embraces her brother for a long time, longer than he wants. She doesn’t care and clings tightly anyway. He smells like a campfire, gun oil, and sweat.