The McClane Apocalypse Book Eight

by Kate Morris

  “Everyone really.”

  “Not good enough,” Sam says with finality and pulls back only to have him grab her other arm, as well.

  “Me, ok? Is that what you want to hear? That I miss you? Of course, I do. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove. It should be obvious. You’re the one who used to go around saying I was your best friend all the time. Now you hardly talk to me at all.”

  “You know why. It’s not like it’s some great mystery, Simon.”

  “Everything about you is a mystery, Samantha,” he says and steps tentatively forward, closing the already narrow space between them.

  “No, I’m not mysterious. I was rather transparent with you. It was you who was and still is the mystery.”

  “It’s just because I don’t want you to see the monster that I really am inside,” he says almost brokenly and looks at nothing between them in the darkness.

  Sam’s brow furrows, and she frowns hard. “What are you talking about, Simon?”

  “I can’t explain it. I don’t want to, either. Not to you. I’d never want you to think of me in that way.”

  “Simon, seriously. You and I were close once. I’d never judge you,” she says.

  Sam slips one arm loose. Then she cups his cheek. Simon places his hand over hers and closes his eyes. His face is an expression of a man tormented by something so profound and hidden within him that Sam feels sorry for him. She pulls her other arm loose and lays her hand against his chest where his heart is racing. She knows he once felt desire for her. He showed her that much the night they were in her parents’ home. If he feels guilty about that, he shouldn’t. It was and still is the best day of her life so far, and she doubts it will ever be topped.

  Sam decides in that split second to take a chance and rises on tiptoe to place her lips right next to his, which startles Simon. His eyes pop open as she lowers back down to her heels.

  “Don’t be sad, Simon,” she whispers, the words feeling like some of the most intimate they’ve ever shared, even though they are standing in the middle of a barn aisle in the dark while the rest of the family is likely all over the property taking care of the animals.

  He swallows hard and says, “Impossible where you’re concerned, Samantha.”

  This makes her feel depressed. She’d never want to cause him sadness, and it breaks her heart.

  “What can I do to make this better?” she asks, offering herself up to the slaughter should he reject her again.

  Simon reaches out and strokes her hair, which is loose and hanging down her back. She’d planned on braiding it later after her shower to keep the heavy cluster from making her even hotter when she goes to bed. His fingertips slide through her hair, causing goosebumps to sprout down her neck.

  “Make me stop wanting you?” he suggests in the form of a question.

  This rocks her to her core. Simon wants her? He seemed like he did that fateful night when he’d almost made love to her, but ever since has treated her like a distant relative who has overstayed their welcome.

  “Simon…” she whimpers brokenly.

  He pushes his fingers into her hair more deeply until his palm is cradling the back of her neck. Then he pulls her up against him where he can capture her mouth with his. The kiss is searing, not sad and depressing at all. It’s as if something has switched within him and turned his melancholy into passion. His mouth moves on hers as if he has memorized every detail of her. Simon steps into her, pushing Sam backward three steps until her back is against the wood wall behind her. His hand cradles her head so that she doesn’t bump it. His other arm encircles her waist and tugs her tightly against him all while not breaking contact with her lips.

  It’s as if he is a starving man, and she his final meal on this planet. Sam slides her hands up his chest, mostly for support because she isn’t sure if she can remain standing.

  Simon jerks back and whispers against her mouth, “I want you to stop kissing him.”

  “Wha…what?” she stutters, not understanding his sudden inquisition about kissing.

  “Your new boyfriend,” Simon clarifies as he moves to her ear, then her neck and collarbone. He presses his palm into the curve of her lower back, causing it to arch. Then he puts his mouth against the base of her neck where her pulse is undoubtedly pounding.

  “Boy…what?”

  “Henry? Do you like kissing him?”

  “What?” Sam asks breathlessly as she clings to his biceps this time. Is he trying to control her? She’s not sure she cares right now.

  He jerks her to him roughly and says against her mouth, “Do you like kissing him more than me?”

  Then it registers as to what he’s referring, and she whispers because talking is impossible, “No. No, I don’t.”

  She can feel him smile against her throat as he makes his way back to her mouth where he positively ravishes hers. Sam sinks her hands into Simon’s thick, wavy hair and holds tight, marveling at the softness. He smells fantastic, too, like the herbs he’s always grinding mixed with cut grass and his own sweat.

  He hooks a hand under her leg and pulls it up against his hip. Then his fingers explore the back of her thigh while holding her tightly against him.

  “Simon,” she begs on a plea of breathless excitement.

  He simply groans against her mouth and slides his hand up further until he is cupping her bottom and pressing her against the hardness between them. Sam has her own agenda and slips her hand under his white t-shirt to explore his stomach, which causes his muscles to flex and jump under her fingertips.

  “I’m already going to hell, so we should make this worth it,” he says against her ear as he kisses her there.

  “What?” she asks as his words begin to filter into her brain. That makes no sense. Why would Simon be going to hell? He is a good and perfect man, a paragon of simplistic innocence among men. Why would he think his fate is sealed in eternal darkness? She doesn’t care. She’d join him there if it meant that he’d kiss her like this every day of their fiery eternity.

  He doesn’t answer but kisses her again and grinds his hips against her. Sam moans softly, which seems to ignite Simon’s inner fire because his tongue plunges into her mouth.

  “Sam, Simon!” Huntley calls from the other end of the barn somewhere.

  “Simon, stop!” Sam says, trying to push him away. She turns her head, but he only lavishes more attention on her neck.

  “Where are you guys?” Huntley yells again.

  “Simon! Let me go. Huntley’s coming,” she says, pushing against his chest. “Simon.”

  He releases her a split second before Huntley comes into view at the other end of the aisle.

  “Come quick! There’s trouble!” Huntley calls to them and waves before running away again.

  She looks up at Simon, who is barely sobering from their heated encounter. This is unlike him. He is always in control and can immediately recover his stoic composure from just about any situation in which he finds himself.

  “Are you ok?” she asks tentatively.

  He frowns and says, “Of course. Come along.”

  He takes her hand as he walks quickly to the barnyard where the family is gathered. She drops his hand when she sees everyone. Simon looks down at her as if he finds this move surprising. She was just beating him to the punch. Sam is under no false pretenses that after sharing yet another passionate kiss that Simon is ready to yield to his baser urgings and be with her. It will never be that simple between them. It will also probably never happen at all.

  “What’s going on?” she asks John.

  “An attack. We need to go. They just hit a friend’s compound southeast of Nashville and Paul and K-Dog think they might be coming for them next. If they do, they’re in trouble. Their village is in imminent danger, and K-Dog just called us for backup. We’re picking up Chet and a few of the Johnson boys. We’re moving in ten.”

  “What if they don’t go there next?” Sue asks.

  “They’re coming t
here. K-Dog’s friend sent a tracker to follow them, and he said they’re making a straight line toward the condo village. If they don’t decide to attack somewhere else tonight along the way, then they’re coming for the condos.”

  “Were there any survivors at his friend’s place?” Sam asks.

  John nods, “Yes, but they took a hard hit from these people. Guess they lost dozens of members of their small town but were able to hold them off for the most part. They ended up breaching their wall, which K-Dog said wasn’t all that great, and ransacked many homes. They got flanked. Paul and K-Dog don’t have the numbers it’ll take to hold off that many.”

  “How long till they get hit?” Simon asks intuitively.

  “An hour, maybe an hour and a half.”

  “I’ll get my rifle,” Simon says and jogs away.

  John rests a hand on Sam’s shoulder with a deep frown and says, “Sam, I need you to watch over Reagan and the kids. I don’t have anyone else to ask, little sister.”

  “Got it. Don’t worry about us. I’ll guard them, John,” she tells him. “How many are there?”

  “They think it’s the highwaymen. He said maybe forty to fifty, maybe less. They’ve got roadblocks set up, but it won’t take much to circumvent them. They’ll be pinned down and need backup from us to get out from under this.”

  “Who’s going?”

  “Kelly, me, Simon and the neighbors,” he answers.

  “Is that going to be enough? Maybe I should go, too.”

  “No, stay here. If they come this way…” he says, drifting off with worry over his newborn and wife.

  “If they do, I know what to do, John. Don’t worry. Just concentrate on your job.”

  He pats her cheek gently and jogs away to join the others.

  Huntley comes up to her and says. “I’m volunteering to go, too.”

  “No, stay, Hunt. If they make their way here, I’ll need all the help I can get. The condo village is not far from here. I can’t fight off that many people alone. If the men fail…I’ll need you.”

  “Ok, shadi,” he says.

  “Help them get ready, though, Hunt.”

  He salutes and takes off at a sprint. She is left alone in the barnyard with Sue and her oldest son, Justin. He looks ready to take on just about anybody who steps onto this farm. Sam feels the same way. Justin, although he is still young, is quite capable with an M4, so she knows he can contribute if it comes to that.

  They go to the house to help the family get ready for a possible battle, and the men prepare to leave.

  Simon comes into the kitchen and straight to her, “Stay inside. Keep the lights out if possible. Wayne’s coming over with Bertie, the kids, and Talia. It’ll be better if someone decides to attack either farm while we’re short on people to defend them.”

  “Oh, good,” Sue says from the other side of the kitchen. “I’m glad Wayne’s coming over.”

  “We radioed Dave’s compound, too. They’re sending some men to help us out and a few more over here, as well. Watch for them. They know to call in before approaching.”

  His fingers purposely brush against hers between them.

  “That’s good,” Sam says to him, looking up into his worried, blue eyes. “Don’t worry about us, Simon. Just go take care of whoever’s doing this. We’re fine.”

  He nods but still seems on edge. His night-vision gear is already strapped to his head, and he has changed into black cargo pants and a black tee. Gone is the cute, messy hair hanging down on his forehead to be replaced by the warrior with green and black paint on his cheekbones and the sniper rifle suspended from its strap on his shoulder. Gone is his boyish charm and inhibition replaced by a trained killer who knows he is being called up to do it again and has the confidence to get the job done. He has that feral, yet calm look in his eyes which darken when he is facing down their enemies.

  Sam knows how much he worries all the time about these types of scenarios and leaving the farm without enough security in place to keep it safe. The people who are about to attack the condo village should be more worried when the sniper in the family gets there. Simon is deadly when the time calls for it. Their fates tonight have already been sealed. The hour draws near.

  “Just be careful,” he warns. “Remember the escape plan if the farm falls.”

  “It won’t come to that,” she says. “Just take care of yourself.”

  He nods and pulls her in to kiss her forehead quickly before turning away. They all meet in the back yard to send the men off right as Wayne pulls in with his family, and Chet switches vehicles to go with the men. Reagan has tears streaming down her cheeks holding her baby as she kisses John goodbye. Hannah isn’t doing much better and is being comforted by Sue. Sam stands there with Huntley wishing she could kiss Simon farewell in front of everyone.

  They gather in the kitchen before sending the children to bed in the music room where they always have to sleep on the floor together when things like this happen. They don’t question or complain because they’re used to it. Sue sits with Hannah on the sofa in Grandpa’s office with a pistol on the stand beside her, and Reagan reclines while breastfeeding her daughter in a leather chaise. Her own sniper rifle is resting casually on the floor next to her. Huntley is sitting on the back porch with Wayne while Bertie and Talia and their kids have taken up residence in the music room with the children. Sam sits near the window in Grandpa’s study where she can see the front driveway, which is never used anymore, and the drive from the neighbor’s farm that is their only point of ingress onto the farm. Sam knows that nobody is actually going to sleep. They are merely reserving their energy in case they end up fighting for their lives later tonight. Everyone is very quiet, the mood somber. Mr. Johnson calls over a short time later to let them know that men from Dave’s compound are on their way through, having passed his farm and checked in there first.

  Shortly before eleven p.m., Henry pulls down the drive with six men. Sam can barely contain her disappointment that he is not Simon. It’s going to be a dreadfully long night until she sees the men arriving back home safely.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Cory

  “Where the hell have you been?” Paige asks as she rounds a corner and runs into him.

  “Checking things out. Learned quite a lot, too,” he answers. “I thought I told you to stay in your room.”

  “Come on, Cory,” she says and walks away at a brisk pace. Then she starts jogging as if she’s in a rush.

  “What’s going on?”

  “There’s been an attack. Sue called in a few minutes ago and got ahold of Derek. The guys went to the condo community to help Paul’s group. People near them, less than an hour away were attacked, and their scout says he thinks they’re headed straight for the condo village.”

  “Damn it!” he says through gritted teeth and picks up the pace.

  Before long, they are in the communications room where the rest of the family has gathered along with Robert, a young soldier manning the radio, and, unfortunately, Parker.

  “What happened?” he demands of Derek.

  His friend sends him a disapproving look for not being present when he needed him but answers, “We aren’t sure yet. K-Dog and Paul are about to be under attack. They think it’s the highwaymen.”

  “How many?” Cory inquires, his mind already racing on how to get down there quickly.

  “Maybe fifty,” Derek says.

  “Shit. I need to go. I can take a few men from here and go. Or hell, go by myself. I don’t care, but I’m not leaving John and Simon to hog this one out with my brother. They’re gonna get overrun.”

  “You take off, and you’re getting an Alpha Charlie,” Derek warns.

  “I need in this, sir,” Cory pleads with his friend and ranking, commanding officer. He doesn’t want the ‘Ass Chewing’ that he was just warned of, but Cory wants to help his friends and brother.

  “It would take too long,” Parker says.

  “I could be there in two
hours, maybe less if I push it,” Cory argues.

  “Dave’s sending some men,” Derek relays. “I think he’s going in, too.”

  “What if there’s more than fifty? We know this group has much bigger numbers than that,” Cory reminds him. “They could and probably will call for reinforcements.”

  “I know,” Derek agrees and rakes a hand through his shaggy hair, having abandoned his high and tight hairstyle ever since his accident. If it gets any longer, it’ll be worse than Cory’s.

  He can tell that his friend is feeling just as impotent and helpless as he is right now. It’s frustrating as hell being so far away when the family needs them.

  “I could send men,” Robert offers. “Cory would be welcome to ride with them.”

  His eyes dart to Robert’s, and for the first time since he met the man, he’s actually feeling the tiniest spark of respect for him.

  “Yes, I’ll go,” he is quick to agree.

  “Wait, we don’t even know if they need our help,” Derek says. “And if you leave to join this, we’re stranded here until you come back. I don’t want to travel with Doc, Luke, and Paige back to the farm without you.”

  “Right,” he agrees. “Let’s go now then. We can ask Robert for extra men to make sure you get home safe with the family, and I’ll split off from you right before the farm and head to the battle.”

  Derek is quiet a moment while he contemplates this. Robert nods in agreement with Cory.

  “I think that would work,” Paige agrees.

  He looks at her and nods. They both want away from the general’s compound. He really wants her away from it and Parker.

  “Fine, gear up,” Derek finally says. “Robert, I would appreciate a few men as an escort to the farm if you can spare them.”

  “Them and more. Parker, get your team ready to move out,” Robert orders, earning a look of surprise from Parker.

  Cory has to hold in a groan of disappointment.

  “We move in ten, people,” Derek says, encouraging everyone to grab their gear and pack up quickly.

  “Paige, help Herb,” Cory requests, gets a nod, and runs from the room.