The Lucky Ones (Evergreen Book 3)

by Matthew S. Cox

  Grace examined Sadie, who evidently had a broken rib that didn’t require immediate attention, then tended to Violet’s relatively minor injuries.

  Each tick of the mechanical wall clock felt like bricks dropping to the floor.

  Harper had no idea if it showed the correct time—presently six after one in the afternoon. Dr. Hale’s voice replayed in a loop saying ‘he’s still alive’ when they’d first carried him in before shouting for Dr. Khan in a tone that worried her. That neither doctor had emerged from the operating room yet both comforted and terrified Harper. They hadn’t come out to say he’d died… but they also hadn’t saved him yet.

  I should have risked the shot when he jumped on Kirk. God dammit. I hesitated again. She closed her eyes, squeezing out the tears that had been lingering at her eyelids. I didn’t want to shoot Kirk. Not hesitation… caution. I can’t be reckless. It would’ve been ten times worse if I murdered Kirk by accident.

  Rage burst inside her head, uncontained fury at the man who’d shot Logan and at the universe for allowing it. Her anger worsened at not having an outlet. The man who did it already died by her hand, but she didn’t know why he’d tried to kill them, or who he’d been. Had Evergreen suffered an attack by an organized group? Could there be more?

  As if the universe heard her question, Darnell walked in the front door.

  Lorelei put on a serious face again and tried to mush Harper’s lips into a smile with her fingers.

  “Lore, it’s okay.” Madison pawed at the girl. “Harp’s not gonna be happy for a while.”

  Darnell sat in the row of seats facing her. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m not.” With both her hands occupied by other siblings, Harper bowed her head against Lorelei’s. “I’m kinda in a state of nothing… waiting.”

  “Your dad’s leading a team out to track where the bastards came from. That’s why he’s not here. He’s the best we got for that sort of thing.”

  His absence hadn’t even occurred to her until Darnell mentioned it, but the reason for it satisfied her more than enough not to be upset at him for leaving her alone as the adult in the room. She would have been out there with him if she had the first clue how to track anyone. An urge to follow the trail back to their camp or settlement and wipe out every last one of them gripped her.

  “What’s their plan?” asked Harper in a dead voice.

  “Not sure yet. Recon I think. If there are hundreds of them, we’re obviously not gonna start anything and focus on defense.” Darnell ran a hand up over his afro, leaning back in the seat, every aspect of his presence radiating exhaustion.

  Motion caught Harper’s eye on the floor to the left, a small black beetle wandering across the white tiles. The sight of it drew the venom from her anger, replacing it with a sense of mourning—for herself. She hated what the war had done to her, the person it changed her into. A girl who tried to catch insects live inside the house and release them outside had twice wanted to kill people indiscriminately… but she’d still have a harder time bringing herself to step on that bug than shoot the Lawless for murdering her parents, or exterminate whoever attacked them, shot Logan, terrorized her siblings, and killed Ryan Herman.

  She hadn’t known the thirty-one-year-old well. Thinking of him brought only the notion of him being ‘the high-strung guy.’ Nervous like a human version of one of those tiny dogs that constantly trembled. The most time she’d spent with him had been the scavenging run when the team met Deacon. But they’d gone through a gunfight together, saw combat. Men that young shouldn’t be dying. Worse, it could have been any of them in his place: her, Sadie, Marcie, hell, even the children hiding under the truck or in the sand trap might’ve caught a stray bullet.

  And Mila. Freakin’ Mila hit the guy with a knife. He could’ve shot her for that. She grimaced. She totally aimed for his eye and he turned at the last second.

  “How bad was it out there?” whispered Harper. “How many were there?”

  Darnell wiped a hand down his face. “A damn mess.”

  Ruby, the doctors’ assistant, brought a cup of water for him. “You look dehydrated. Better drink something.”

  “Thank you.” He took the cup and drained it in one long series of gulps.

  “Can I have water, please?” asked Lorelei.

  “Of course, dear.” Ruby patted her on the head before walking off.

  “Eleven of them dead and one prisoner,” said Darnell. “We lost Ryan, and two farmers. That one boy was like your age.”

  An away game with his high school hockey team ended with him being shot in the face for tending corn.

  “Why…?”

  Darnell scratched at his head. “A couple of the other people workin’ on the farm said the boy Parker—the one who died—caught a couple of them stealing corn. They shot him as soon as he shouted at them. Kid didn’t even have a weapon on him.”

  Ruby returned and handed Lorelei a cup of water.

  “Thank you!” Lorelei flashed a huge grin.

  The child’s contagious happiness needled at Harper, crawling under her skin and making her feel more miserable for being sad.

  “Most of the corn isn’t even mature yet.” She squeezed Madison into Lorelei defensively. “They shot him for corn… Ryan and Logan died for goddamned corn…”

  “He’s not dead,” whispered Madison. “The doctors are still working.”

  Harper closed her eyes. If he dies, I’m never going near another boy. I’m a jinx. I can’t take this a third time. This is so, so messed up. I hate what’s happened to the world. I should be dealing with finals, graduating high school, having the last big summer break before starting college. I should not be worrying if my freakin’ boyfriend is gonna survive being shot. She opened her eyes, memories a surprise shooter drill from her school haunting her with the screams of her classmates who didn’t realize the danger was simulated. A girl, Bethany, she knew but didn’t consider a close friend spent a whole year terrified that any single day she went to school, she’d never see her family again.

  Almost everyone in her class had been on edge. But… none of them expected nuclear war. Perhaps those drills really had helped prepare kids for the world they’d inherit as adults. We spent years trained to think we could be randomly shot at any time.

  “Maybe things haven’t really changed that much,” muttered Harper.

  “Come again?” asked Darnell.

  Harper looked up. “I’m feeling morbid. Making a dark joke. My class used to worry all the time about being shot one day out of the blue.”

  “Mine, too,” said Madison in a small voice.

  “Ugh.” Harper leaned back and took a big breath. “I’m letting myself fall into a hole. Plenty of people used to live in places where they might be shot at any time before the war, not the nice, safe suburban bubble I grew up in. Really need to stop feeling sorry for myself.”

  “Hey, there’s no shame in being upset. We had a shitty morning.” Darnell got up. “Need more water.”

  “No one did that, but Emmy peed herself,” said Lorelei.

  Jonathan snickered.

  “What did they do with the ‘dentist’?” Harper let go of Madison long enough to shift Lorelei’s weight so circulation resumed in her right leg.

  “They took him down to the old sheriff’s office, but after that mask guy, I don’t know if they’re going to be too interested in keeping anyone prisoner.”

  “Are they gonna kill him?” Jonathan gasped.

  Darnell shrugged with a ‘who knows?’ expression. “Not my call. Dude seemed reasonably normal what little I saw of him. Guess it comes down to how good he can talk to Ned.”

  “He could’a shot Harp and didn’t.” Madison clung a little tighter.

  Harper thought back to that moment when he’d ordered her to drop the shotgun. She couldn’t do it, expecting he meant to kidnap her for sick purposes. Had her brain stalled on the idea of choosing death over whatever that man would do to her, or did she sim
ply refuse to relinquish Dad’s shotgun?

  “He didn’t shoot anyone,” said Jonathan. “His gun had a full magazine.”

  “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He could have reloaded.” Darnell walked back over, sipping water. “But, he didn’t really seem violent.”

  Harper glared at the wall. “Violent enough to participate in a raid. First a damn barista now a dentist? What makes people do that shit?”

  “Mom’s gonna yell at you for swearing.” Madison peered up at her for a second, then re-snuggled. “I mean her ghost. I’m not nuts again.”

  “That’s so messed up.” Harper chuckled while crying. “Mom would nag me for swearing but she wouldn’t have a problem with me shooting bad guys.”

  The creak of a door down the hall nearly made her scream.

  Lorelei gurgled in response to Harper squeezing her like a giant platinum-blonde teddy bear.

  Al Gonzalez backed out of the operating room, pulling a gurney with Logan on it. Grace walked alongside, crying. Harper’s heart leapt into her throat at the sight of tears on her friend’s cheeks—but the squeak of anguish building in her lungs didn’t grow into a wail before she realized the girl pushed an IV stand. Dr. Khan steered the foot end of the gurney from the rear. Tegan emerged last from the room, weary, blood-spattered, and exhausted. She turned to her right and walked out into the waiting room.

  Harper jumped to her feet, clutching Lorelei to her chest like a dangling doll. IV is good. They don’t give dead people needles. Tegan looks tired, not grim.

  “Ngh,” grunted Lorelei, squirming.

  “How…” whispered Harper.

  “Harp, you’re squishing Lore.” Madison tugged on her arm.

  Tegan looked her in the eye. “Logan’s doing as well as can be expected given the circumstances.”

  Harper loosened her grip on the six-year-old, allowing her to slip down to stand. The girl overacted taking a huge breath. “How is he?”

  “We removed the bullet and did everything we could to repair the damage. Dr. Khan was able to effectively improvise an intercostal drain. Logan suffered a hemopneumothorax, basically air and blood invading the pleural space around the lung.”

  “That sounds really scary. Is he okay?” Harper shivered with anxiety.

  “Well, if we were in a normal hospital with normal supplies and procedures, I’d say yes, absolutely. His unconsciousness was primarily due to blood loss, which we’ve resolved with a transfusion. However, his net blood volume is still low. Right now, the worst risk for him is infection. I am optimistic that he will most likely recover, but I can’t make any concrete promises given the conditions we’re working with. We had to improvise a vacuum bottle for the drain. He’s going to be resting here for a while, though.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “He’s asleep, so don’t expect him to be too conversational.” Tegan took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “But I think it would do you good to see that he’s still here.”

  Harper swallowed.

  “I’ll stay with the kids,” said Darnell. “G’won.”

  “Okay. Thanks. I just have to see he’s okay, then maybe I can get them home and not completely break down.” Harper nodded to Tegan.

  The doctor led her down the hall to the big room with patient beds. She couldn’t even guess what it had been used for prior to the war. Sadie occupied the third bed in from the door, a sheet covering her to the armpits, though a nasty bit of bruising peeked up over the fabric on her right side. Violet rested across the aisle from her, shin wrapped up in bandages.

  Roy lay on the bed to Sadie’s left, still fully dressed in all his pre-war police gear, sacked out. Between the gunfight, donating blood, and scrambling around on paramedic duty, he’d crashed hard. Five men and one teen boy, another former hockey player, occupied other beds in various stages of consciousness. Dr. Khan and Al Gonzalez lifted one of the farmers—a man in his late forties—onto the same gurney they’d wheeled Logan in on. Evidently, he’d been the next most seriously injured and needed surgery as well.

  The last bed in the corner held Logan. Grace stood beside it, fiddling around with a plastic hose connecting a small empty tank to his side.

  Harper ran over, sneakers squeaking on the tile floor.

  “Harper!” Grace caught her in a hug and started crying again. “I’m so sorry!”

  “He’s alive?” whispered Harper.

  “Yeah.”

  Tegan looked Logan over, then gave Harper a curt nod. “He needs rest. Take a bit to convince yourself that he’s okay, then at least for today, let him have quiet, okay?”

  “Okay.” Harper wiped tears on the back of her arm. “Thanks.”

  “He woke up in the OR,” whispered Grace. “Said your name and passed out again.”

  Logan woke up in surgery!? Wait, he asked for me? She pressed a hand to her chest. “Woke…”

  “The doctors aren’t trained anesthesiologists and we don’t have all the right stuff. What they used, they kind of under-dosed to be safe.” Grace rested her head on Harper’s shoulder and whispered, “I dunno if I can do this… be a doctor, or whatever passes for one anymore. It’s so much harder when it’s someone you know.”

  “You did awesome. He’s alive because of you.” Harper nearly crushed her with a hug. “I dunno what the hell is wrong with me.”

  “Oh, come on.” Grace sniffled. “Stop being the tough girl. You know damn well what’s wrong. I see the way you look at him when he’s not looking at you.”

  Harper stared at Logan lying unconscious in the bed, the whole left side of his chest wrapped in bandages. That Taylor Swift song they’d danced to started playing in her head again, her memories filled with his big smile. She’d become far too upset at his being hurt to continue telling herself she hadn’t fallen for him. Whatever doubts she may have had about who Logan Ruiz was evaporated when she watched him jump on a man about to kill Kirk, a boy who’d teased him all throughout high school for being Mexican.

  Fear kept her paralyzed. If she admitted she’d fallen in love with him, she’d surely lose him. If she kept telling herself she still needed time to feel things out, still hadn’t really grown attached to him, it wouldn’t hurt as much when something bad happened. But… she’d almost lost him and it hurt far more than she’d been ready for.

  “I… You’re right.” Harper released her grip around Grace and approached the right side of the bed. “Was it that obvious?”

  “Not really that much honestly, at least until your birthday. Pretty sure he’s not going to go from nice guy to dangerous overnight.”

  “No.” Harper gingerly took Logan’s limp hand. “I didn’t even really know Tyler. Not like we did anything. I thought he was the only person my age left alive in the world. I didn’t want to make that same mistake again. I’d been so petrified of losing another person I cared about, I tried not to let anyone else in.”

  Grace moved up beside her, hand on her shoulder. “I can understand that. Fate’s a bitch. Why couldn’t it have been Zach instead of Logan?”

  “No.” Harper shook her head. “He’s a total bag of dicks, but I wouldn’t wish him hurt or dead, even in trade for Logan’s life. And besides, Zach would have just kept running and let Kirk die.”

  “True.”

  “I’ve been stupid. Oh, what’s that quote? I don’t want to die before I’ve lived?” She looked up at Grace. “I’ve been half dead ever since the war, ever since my parents died. It felt somehow wrong to allow myself to be happy after so many people lost their lives. Like, how dare I laugh and have a good time in a world like this? But… you’re right.”

  “I am?” Grace blinked.

  Harper looked back at Logan. “If we give up on living, then whoever nuked us wins. My parents wouldn’t want me to just quit. Wandering around in a permanent state of guilt for still being alive when so many aren’t isn’t really living. I shouldn’t give up. The war took everything I knew away from me, and stole half of my sister. Maddie�
�s not the same person. None of us are. I don’t want to let the war kill me inside, too.”

  Grace sniffled. “Dr. Hale says I’m learning stuff real fast. I’ve always been kinda smart. Maybe you’re right. I shouldn’t quit because I got squeamish today. Just worried about making a mistake because it’s someone I know and I’m freaking out.”

  “Logan?” Harper leaned over him and whispered, “Hope you can somehow hear me. Sorry for being afraid. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I think I might be falling for you. C’mon and wake up so I can kiss you, okay? Don’t give up.”

  “Aww,” whispered Grace.

  “Miss Hughes?” called Dr. Khan. “Need you in here.”

  “Eep. I gotta go.” Grace gave her a quick arm squeeze before running off.

  “Tegan wants me to let you rest and the kids need to go home. I’ll come back tomorrow, ’kay? Please keep fighting.”

  Harper stood at Logan’s bedside for a few more minutes holding his hand, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. The plastic tube coming out of his side dribbled with a dark reddish-brown fluid that accumulated in the plastic bottle at the end. He showed no sign of having heard her at all.

  After another few minutes, she kissed the back of his hand, rested his arm on the bed at his side, and forced herself to leave him to his rest. Tears wanted to start a few steps into the hallway outside, but she held them back. Logan’s not dead yet. If I walk out there crying, the kids are going to lose it. She stood still for a moment, gathering her composure and trying to remember how to hope.

  As soon as she felt in control of herself, she resumed walking to the waiting area.

  Madison and Jonathan looked up at her with expressions that asked ‘how’s he doing?’ Lorelei flashed an overacted cheesy smile that somehow slipped under Harper’s armor and made her chuckle.

  “He’s okay. But sleeping. C’mon. Let’s go home.” Harper picked her Mossberg off the chair and slung it over her shoulder before taking Lorelei by the hand.