The McClane Apocalypse Book Nine

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The McClane Apocalypse Book Nine Page 4

by Kate Morris


  “See ya’, Simon. Safe trip home,” she says over her shoulder and hurries away.

  She and Simon are done. It is difficult even being his friend now.

  Chapter Three

  Paige

  A few days after the battle at the rail yard, Paige tags along to town to be of assistance taking care of the sick children who are suffering from Scarlet Fever. She is working alongside Sam and has been all day since she and her uncle also came to town to treat the children. It is nearly dusk already, and a storm is brewing outside. Her uncle reported that they now have six cases in Hendersonville, too. Paige had never even heard of Scarlet Fever before this. Her brother gave her a book on it so that she could brush up. It had not made her feel any better about the disease. She is more worried than ever about the children.

  “We need a temperature on her,” Sam says as she holds a clipboard with the girl’s paperwork attached to it.

  “Got it,” Paige answers and proceeds to take her temperature. “Ninety-nine point one.”

  “Good, that’s lower than it was earlier today. The fever reducer is working,” Sam says, writing on her chart. “Grandpa will probably dose her again soon.”

  Her brother strides up to them and says, “Can I see her chart, please?”

  Sam frowns with disappointment at his arrival but surrenders the chart anyway.

  “Yes, she can have more fever reducer now,” he says and marks on the chart with the pen from his lab coat. Paige marvels as her awkward, geeky, young brother squats next to the little girl’s cot and says quietly and with great professionalism, “Hey, kiddo. I’m going to need you to drink some more tea, alright?”

  She nods, her forehead sweaty, her dark hair tangled. She is looking at Simon as if he were a god. In his formal lab coat, spectacles, and dark tan from summer, he is a striking man. She just wishes that Sam felt the same as their tiny patient.

  “Does your throat still hurt?” he asks as he presses his hand to her forehead. He gets a nod from her. “The tea will help, remember?”

  Simon looks up at Paige and adds, “Give her a half cup portion of the yogurt we brought to town and mix in a tablespoon of our honey.”

  “Got it,” Paige says with a firm nod.

  “I’ll note it,” he says. Then he removes his stethoscope and listens to her chest. Simon nods up at Sam. “Good. Clear lungs. No noise. I think after the next dose of fever tea, it’ll break.”

  “Dr. Murphy,” the little one croaks. “Am I gonna die?”

  “No way,” he says decidedly and smiles down at her. Then he strokes her head. “Take the tea. I know it doesn’t taste great but drink it all. It’ll help you sleep, too. If Miss Sam or Miss Paige gives you food to eat, make sure you eat it all. The food will give you strength, ok, Whitney?”

  She nods again and even attempts a weak smile at Paige’s brother. He’s really good with these kids. Maybe he should’ve been a pediatrician like Sam’s uncle. Kids sure seem to trust him.

  “Good,” he praises and turns to her and Sam. “I noted it. Just follow the notes we made. Herb posted charts in the hall on each patient. If you have any questions, go by what he says before me. I also just stopped in the next room over and saw the two children there. Do the same for them. Wait twenty minutes, brew the tea- actually, I think Melora already has it going in the kitchen- anyway, then dose the tea, the yogurt and honey. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Someone got hurt working on the wall,” he says. “Herb asked me to go with him to the clinic and help.”

  “Oh, no,” Sam says. “Anyone we know?”

  “Not sure yet,” he says and smiles with his eyes at Sam. “Probably that idiot Cory.”

  “Cory got hurt?” Paige asks, trying not to sound too eager for information.

  “No,” Simon replies testily. “I said ‘probably’ because he seems to be accident prone as well as being a reckless idiot.”

  “Yes, Cory’s always banging himself up,” Sam says. “He shouldn’t even be doing labor right now. He was just shot the other night.”

  “What?” Paige screeches. “How do I not know about that?”

  Simon shrugs nonchalantly and smirks, “You’re on a need-to-know basis. He’s fine. It was more of a graze anyway. He was just playing it up for sympathy points.”

  Her brother smiles at Sam again. Her friend does not seem to appreciate it and even turns and leaves.

  “What’s going on with you two?” Paige asks as she follows him into the hallway. They have the Scarlet Fever kids all housed together in the town hall now in the hopes of containing the sickness. It was the biggest building with heat and running water and many cots that were probably ordered years ago in case of an emergency like a natural disaster but were never intended as makeshift hospital beds in an apocalypse. Melora and her brother Hardy sleep in this building twenty-four-seven and have taken care of the kids tirelessly.

  “What do you mean?” her brother asks.

  “Sam seems like she’s still pissed at you. What’d you do?”

  He stops, and Paige almost runs into his back. “What makes you think I’m the guilty party?”

  She hits him with a look that lets him know that his question is silly. Simon nods. He scowls with frustration and nods.

  “Yeah, it was me. It’s fine,” he says.

  “You should talk to her,” Paige says and touches his forearm.

  Simon sighs long and loud. Then he hands her the clipboard. “Sam and I have a lot to work out, but I need to get to the clinic. Catch you later? Be careful.”

  “I have a gun on my hip in a guarded town. I think I’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t think anyone’s too excited about coming in here to plunder anyway,” she remarks, referring to the sickness.

  In an uncharacteristic move, Simon touches the top of her head affectionately and pulls her forward to kiss her forehead. “I know. I just worry about you. You’re my little sister.”

  “Actually, I’m the big sister,” Paige corrects with a smile.

  “Doesn’t feel like it, not anymore,” he says, a pained expression flickering across his face.

  “Simon,” she starts and pauses. “Simon, you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Sam and I are big girls. I survived on my own for a long time. She’s a tough cookie. We’re not fragile China dolls.”

  He frowns as if he’s in pain, as if she will float away in the wind like a feather being carried off. Then he touches her cheek and leaves because she knows he doesn’t agree with her. Paige watches her little brother swiftly shimmy his way through the crowd and leave the building. Sam comes back a few minutes later carrying a tray. She helps her, and together they feed the three children, make sure they drink their tea, and take their temperatures again. Melora comes into the room just as they are finishing and tells them about another child that is worse.

  “Usually with most sicknesses,” Sam tells her reassuringly, “it’s worse at night. Let’s check on him.”

  Sam takes the boy’s temperature in the room a few doors down from theirs as Paige prepares a hot mug of tea, lacing it with honey. He’s spiking high temps, his poor tiny body is covered in the tell-tale red rash, and he’s miserable and moaning.

  “We’ve got to get some fever reducer in him,” Sam says.

  It takes a while, but they manage to get him to sip his tea and even some bone broth, which Herb says is good for illness. Then they wait on a dozen more children. The clock on the wall reads four-ten, but Paige figures it is frozen in time with dead batteries. She consults her watch instead. It’s after ten p.m.

  “Hey, girls,” Cory says, peeking his head into the room where they are washing up.

  “Cory!” she exclaims with a smile of relief and then remembers they are not alone. Sam is with them, and Paige is trying to keep her distance.

  “Hi, Cory,” Sam greets. “Were you the one who got hurt working on the wall earlier?”

  “No, it wa
s Mr. Hinkle,” he tells them.

  “The man who was just elected as the town’s first judge?” Paige asks.

  “Yeah, he’s not doing so good,” Cory informs her. “He shouldn’t have been working up that high. He didn’t have the experience. Well, and he’s old.”

  “What happened?” Sam asks as she dries her hands.

  He readjusts the rifle hanging on his shoulder and says, “Guess they were over near the high side- you know, over closer to Jay’s old village- and he was at the top of the scaffolding and just took a step back.”

  “Oh, my,” Paige says, imagining the horrifying feeling of falling from such a height.

  “Yeah, Doc says he fractured his spine and collapsed a lung. Got some other broken bones, too. It doesn’t look good.”

  “That’s horrible,” Sam says, shaking her head.

  “Yeah, he’s pretty messed up,” he says with a nod, his mouth turned down.

  “I think we’re going to need another new judge,” Paige comments. “It doesn’t sound like he’ll be able to work for a while.”

  He nods and says, “Or ever. Anyway, I just came to take you girls to this fancy restaurant for dinner called, the dining hall.”

  Sam smiles but says, “No, not for me. I think I’ll run over to the clinic, see if they need my help. You guys go without me.”

  “You should eat, Sam,” Paige says. “We’ve been working here all day.”

  “I will,” she says. “I just wanna’ see if Grandpa needs help with Mr. Hinkle. It sounds like they could use help if they’re still there working this late.”

  Paige nods. “I could come, too.”

  “And do what? Pass out?” Cory teases, to which she backhands his shoulder.

  Sam laughs and leaves them.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  “Um, sure,” Paige replies nervously. She doesn’t want to upset her brother if he should see them eating dinner together, but she is also very hungry. Tonight, her stomach is dictating the decisions.

  They walk to the dining hall in the same building where the women and men in town have been preparing meals for the volunteers. They keep the food warm by resting the heavy metal pans on hotbeds of charcoal. They seem to come up with crafty ways to prepare food for such large groups, too.

  She and Cory go through the line, and Paige chooses potatoes, roasted meat that looks like turkey or chicken, and a small pile of vegetables which were kept warm under a steaming lid. Her stomach growls as she carries her plate to a nearby table. The sheriff had this mess hall set up by a few of his deputies and their wives; the folding tables and chairs, the use of the building, the volunteers and their shifts, and meal preps and cleanup are all products of their handiwork and scheduling. Once the people in town found out about the sick kids and how quickly it was spreading, they hadn’t had to go far to find volunteers. The sign-up board had filled up quickly. The McClane family only helps out when they come to town, and Paige had wanted to be a part of that, too, even if she couldn’t help every day. It was better than moping around the farm feeling depressed about her relationship with her brother, the family and Cory, and also over her miscarriage.

  “This hits the spot,” Cory says as he eats. His portion is much more substantial than hers and also includes homemade bread, two slices. She smiles quietly to herself. He eats like a horse. Of course, he also labors like one, too.

  “Yeah, it’s great,” she comments. “Hey, you didn’t tell me you were shot the other night. What happened?”

  “Just a scratch,” he dismisses. “Nothing important.”

  She narrows her gaze at him, “Sure. But really, though. What…?”

  “How are you feeling?”

  Paige looks around nervously. She knows he is referring to the miscarriage. “Fine. I’m fine.”

  He nods, but Paige can tell he is still concerned. He slides his hand across the table to touch hers before pulling back.

  “Have you found the parts yet to fix that drone you guys confiscated?” she asks, changing the subject.

  “Just about. This old guy we helped out the other day from that farm compound gave me some parts. He had a ham radio, too. With what he gave me, I’ll be able to get it up in the air again.”

  “That’s great,” she comments, marveling at his engineering skills. Before the collapse of their country, she could barely remember how to get the batteries in the tv remote the right way.

  “I’ll be coming back in the morning with John,” he tells her. “I’ll be here to pick you guys up.”

  “You aren’t staying tonight?”

  He shakes his head and takes a bite. “No, we’ve got work to do.”

  “Hunting those jerks again?”

  He frowns and tears off a chunk of his bread to sop up excess gravy from his meat. Then he offers a nonchalant shrug.

  “I think you…” she starts but is interrupted by Tessa coming up and tapping Cory on the elbow.

  His face lights up at the sight of the child, and he rubs the top of her head, “Hey, kid. Did you eat some dinner?”

  She just nods. She still isn’t talking much. It seems to Paige that the child mostly only speaks when Cory is around.

  Tessa climbs onto the wooden bench beside Cory and rests her head on her hands on the table staring at Paige as if contemplating something. Then she climbs down, under the table and up onto the bench beside Paige.

  “Hi,” Paige says to her with a smile. She’s so cute. Tessa offers a lopsided smile and reaches up to stroke Paige’s hair. Paige smiles back at her.

  “I like to call her Red, Tess,” Cory says. “After her red hair.”

  “Red,” she whispers and smiles.

  “I like your hair better,” Paige says to the little one. “Your curls are so pretty.”

  “Heck yeah they are,” he says gruffly. “I’ll have to chase off the boys someday, kid.”

  Tessa doesn’t turn to look at Cory but leans her head on Paige’s arm as if she’s tired. Paige strokes her springy curls and kisses the top of her head. When she looks up, Cory is staring at her with a pained expression.

  “Hey, lazy bum,” Simon greets Cory as he enters the scene and plops down beside him opposite Paige.

  “What’s up, nerd?”

  “Mr. Hinkle will likely not make it through the night,” he announces somberly as Sam also joins them and sits next to Paige. “Doc’s leaving Lucas and me in charge of the clinic tonight because he needs to go home. He’s exhausted.”

  “Yes, Grandpa said Mr. Hinkle has internal damage, possibly bleeding, too,” she explains further, then catches sight of Tessa and stops talking.

  They all pause to reflect on the terrible condition of their new judge. He was elected in by a majority vote because he was a former lawyer and had experience in trial cases, which they believe could become important as their town grows. Conflicts arise. It’s human nature.

  “Sam,” Paige says, changing the subject, “are you staying tonight?”

  “I wasn’t going to, but I think I might,” she says. “Some of the children aren’t doing well.”

  “We’ll make sure you get home tomorrow, little sister,” Cory offers. “Unless you wanna’ come to the farm for a visit. The girls sure do miss you.”

  “Yeah, that’d be great!” Paige puts in.

  “I don’t think so,” she says and looks quickly to Simon.

  “No, you should,” Simon counters. “I’ll stay here in town. I’m staying tonight anyway. You wouldn’t even have to be around me. I know you prefer that.”

  It’s a strange comment and one that warrants further exploration, but later and not in front of Sam and Cory. Paige would like to know what’s going on between them.

  “I prefer to go home to the compound because that’s my home now,” Sam says and resumes eating, which isn’t much by the looks of her plate.

  “But we’d love to have you for a visit,” Paige persists.

  “We’ll see,” she says noncommittally. “I have a lot of
responsibilities at the compound.”

  “Those may not matter soon,” Simon says to them and pauses.

  Paige asks, “What do you mean?”

  “I just heard from Doc that they made contact with Robert tonight, and he’s sending an envoy down here to our town with their doctors and researchers. They think they’ll be able to help with the Scarlet Fever epidemic.”

  “What’s that have to do with Sam coming to the farm?” Cory asks as Tessa crawls back under the table and up onto his lap. He feeds her bread soaked in beef gravy. It touches a funny, dormant place in Paige’s heart.

  “He wants all of us here to help with research and to work with the scientists,” Simon tells them. “They’ll be here the day after tomorrow.”

  “And tomorrow we’ve got a…task,” Cory reminds him.

  “Right,” Simon agrees and cuts the chicken on his plate with a fork and knife. Cory probably would’ve just stuffed the whole chunk into his mouth. Her brother is so different than Cory in so many ways. “So, it won’t matter if Sam wants to go home tomorrow. She’ll just have to come right back the day after. Your uncle’s coming, too.”

  “Oh, I didn’t hear any of this,” she says.

  “Yes, well, you left out of the practice too quickly,” Simon tells her.

  “You could come home with us tomorrow and back the next day with Cory to town,” Paige suggests.

  “Yeah, maybe,” she says, looking at Simon again before rising and leaving. Her pretty doll face is covered in a grimace of displeasure.

  “You better get this shit fixed soon, bro,” Cory says and also rises.

  “It’s not going to be as easy as you might think, idiot,” Simon counters. “Not everyone is a caveman of baser needs and instincts. Samantha is intelligent.”

  Cory snorts.

  “See ya’ later, Red,” Cory says as he balances Tessa on his hip and his gun and plate with his other arm and hand.

  “No, you won’t,” Simon stresses angrily and half rises.

  Cory just laughs and retreats.

  She offers to help clean up after them, but the volunteers won’t hear anything of it, so Paige heads to the house down the street where she runs into Sam and waits her turn to grab a fast shower. They’ll also shower before they go home tomorrow so that they aren’t hauling germs back to the farm or to Dave’s compound. John, Herb, and Cory all leave an hour later, and she goes back to the children’s ward where she works the rest of the night with Simon and Sam. Then she and Sam crash on two cots in one of the back rooms where the volunteers sleep. It’s nice because they have a small, former office space to themselves. Others bunk in larger groups in equally larger rooms. She’s fine to share the small space with just Sam. Sometimes they stay in the house down the street from the clinic, but not now, not with the children needing constant care. They’ll both rise early and take over for the other volunteers. Neither of them chat. They are exhausted and offer each other an abbreviated ‘g’night’ before nodding off.

 

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