Hard Rain Falling (Walking in the Rain Book 3) (16 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

When I woke, I saw Amy sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair, her face slack with sleep and her forehead sporting a huge bandage. Curled into a ball on the hard seat, she reminded me of a small child taking a nap. In the dim light cast by the now uncovered windows of the converted conference room, I saw we shared the space with at least six other patients. Most appeared to be still asleep.

I wanted to get out of bed and hold Amy, to touch her face and reassure myself that she still lived. When I thought she was dead, I lost my reason, and my ability to control the hunter inside. I was crazy of course, but not so crazy as to pretend the berserker was anything other than my own self. As I’d pointed out to Nick, going berserker didn’t make me bullet proof.

Case in point, I thought, and looked down to examine the bandage on my lower abdomen. Then, bracing myself, I gently peeled back the bandage to take a look at the entry wound. Stitched back together, the angry looking slice didn’t look so bad, measuring only a few inches in width. I noticed the surgical thread looked funny, different than what I seen used to stitch up my chin the last time I’d had a wound closed that way. Back before.

“Fishing line,” a voice pronounced, and I tried not to jerk when I looked up. “Technically, that is polypropylene. We ran out of just about all the regular stuff over a week ago and one of the medics suggested it.”

I gave the guy a quick once over and decided he must have been the one to do the stitching. He was in his early forties, slender like a runner and wore glasses. Of course, all of us looked skinny these days but he reminded me of Colonel Hotchkins with his greyhound appearance. He was dressed much as Nurse Nicole, in faded scrubs and wearing one of those little surgical caps you see doctors wearing on TV.

“Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate the fine work. Now, what do I own you? I’m afraid my insurance card was in my other pants.”

That got a dry chuckle for the man, who just stepped closer and produced an old fashioned mercury thermometer and stuck it under my tongue. I could taste the alcohol and figured that was a good thing. Sterile, at least.

“Ah, Luke,” he said, touching my forehead with the back of his hand the way my mother used to when I was a kid. Checking for fever. I’d read that the average person couldn’t tell anything from that touch, but I still found it a comfort; which was probably why he did it.

“Luke,” he said as he started again, “I think you are covered under the ‘thank God you saved our asses’ clause in my contract. I’m Doctor Spaulding, and you and your people get free treatment as long as I am around to see it done. I heard what you and your friends did, holding the fence against over fifty of those gang members that tried to rush the compound.”

“Well, they would have killed us too. By the way, I don’t mean to be a pain, but is Amy supposed to be sleeping? I thought you had to stay up twenty-four hours with a bad concussion. At least, that is what all the TV shows and movies insist, so I figure is must be true.”

Dr. Spaulding gave me a curious look, and shook his head.

“Usually not, but that was back when we could do CAT scans. We did have her stay up twenty-four hours, but she finished that yesterday. You’ve been out for a while, son.”

Well, that was news. I mentioned talking to Nicole, and he confirmed that had taken place the night before. I looked over at Summer, lying still and sleeping in the cot next to me.

“We had to hit you with some pretty strong sedatives since we don’t have any more nitrous or any of the good stuff to do the surgery. If you’re feeling hung over, I can tell you that will pass shortly.”

“Got it,” I nodded.

He looked over at Summer, a fond smile playing around his features.

“She took turns with Amy, sitting up all night to watch over you. That girl is a big fan of yours, but she tells the most horrifying stories about the things she had seen out there. Was she really held by a slave trader in Arkansas?”

I corroborated the story, giving vague answers because I wasn’t sure just how much she had shared with the doctor. Still, he acted suitably shocked.

“By the way, what happened to the back of your head? You’ve got a humdinger of a scar there covered up by the hair.”

“Caught an axe handle, or maybe a machete blade; I’d didn’t see what they used. I was too busy fighting. I forget it’s there until I try to brush my hair. Nurse over in Arkansas said it healed up okay, though.”

“Well, I guess it did, after a fashion. Your hair covers it pretty well anyway. What were you fighting about?”

I laughed and then regretted it. Pain still radiated out from the wound site, despite an extra day of healing.

“We had a disagreement. They invited me to dinner and I disagreed since I was to be on the menu. I couldn’t reach the wound so I used Super Glue and bound the flaps of skin back together.”

Dr. Spaulding turned a little green but nodded. Nothing surprised him much these days.

“I’d heard the rumors, but didn’t want to think about it happening. People are hungry and most don’t have the skills to hunt or fish. Gotta say, Luke; that must have hurt a lot.”

“Trust me, it did. As for hunting, game’s pretty sparse out there anyway. I imagine the deer have been hunted out of most places. Be years before they make a comeback. I’d been living on rabbit and squirrel for the most part until I hooked up with some farmers and then the National Guard types over in Arkansas.”

We talked off and on for the rest of the morning as Dr. Spaulding came around and checked on his patients. Most were still sedated or sleeping. Dr. Phillip Spaulding was a native of McAlester and a surgeon with a thriving practice in town before the lights went out.

With no power, no water, and a hungry family to feed, he loaded up wife and two sons on their pricey mountain bikes and pedaled over to the local armory. He figured that somebody would need his services. Thus far he had been correct and had not left the friendly confines of the compound since his arrival less than a week after the event.

He was proud to explain that all four of them also spent most of their free time working in the expansive gardens planted by their little community in the former green space adjacent to the big brick building. Like everybody else, they got the planting done late but the plants were still coming along nicely.

Eventually Amy began to stir, then rolled over in her seat and almost fell to the floor. She caught herself and her eyes first came up to find me staring back at her.

“You’re awake,” she exclaimed, then blushed. “Just call me Captain Obvious. How are you feeling? Dr. Spaulding said you were going to be okay, since you didn’t develop an infection in the first twenty-four hours.”

I forced a smile. My abdominal muscles ached fiercely, but Dr. Spaulding had confided in me that the pain would continue for weeks. He’d been able to operate and repair the damage without any permanent disability, and the greatest danger had to do with the massive blood loss I’d suffered. I would be weak for a bit as my body recovered. He said they would have done a blood transfusion back the old days, but without knowing my blood type and having to work in such primitive conditions, he was loathed to do that. He actually used that word, ‘loathed’, which I have to figure out from the context.

“No problems. I was more worried about you. I… I thought I lost you, Amy. I couldn’t stand it. I’m sorry I didn’t take better care of you. So sorry.”

Amy wrinkled her nose prettily and stood, walking over slowly to my cot and sitting precariously on the side.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Luke. Lori told me what happened and what you did. She feels terrible and blames herself. Summer is just the same. She couldn’t stop crying when we were driving over from their house. I was out of it myself, but I couldn’t believe it. You killed all of them?”

“Every fucking one I could find. I think one or two might have run off, but the rest of them… yeah, they’re dead,” I admitted fiercely. I saw Doctor Spaulding take a step back, his shock evident on his face.

“How many?” he managed to ask.

I shrugged but Amy wasn’t going to let me off the hook that easy.

“Lori said they counted fifteen bodies in two houses. They checked when she went back to salvage what you left. She’s holding all of it for you.”

“And you killed all of them? By yourself? Jesus, son, I mean, Luke, that’s kind of… ah, scary, really.” The doctor seemed to be struggling with how to respond, but he had started the conversation. Amy was quick to answer, cutting off any response from me.

“They shot Summer, and then shot me. No reason, Doc. We had barely gotten out of the car and they started shooting. These were neighbors of the Thompsons, and last week they killed Summer and Lori’s parents and some of their other neighbors in a raid looking for food. Then they came back and were gearing up to attack again.” She said this fiercely, and took my hand in hers while she spoke.

“They were starving,” I allowed, “and one of them told me they were enforcing their claim on the property. Sort of like eminent domain of the apocalypse.”

“You talked to one? And what is eminent domain?” Amy asked, “I can’t believe I knocked myself silly and you thought I was dead. Doc here told me it looked pretty bad and that head wounds bleed a lot.”

I knew that one for sure. I delivered plenty and received one for my trouble as well. When I got my head split open, I remember bleeding like a stuck pig. That was the main reason I’d thought to glue the wound shut. I’d read about doing it in an advanced first aid text I had at home. I’d made a bloody mess of things, but eventually the split healed. I would never be able to go around with my head shaved, though.

“I remember talking to some lady. It really is a big jumbled, though. You know what happens when I really lose my temper. And, eminent domain is when the government steals your property and then pays you what they feel like.”

Amy knew. The berserker had surfaced and took over when I didn’t feel like living any longer. I felt guilty for so many reasons, but I would wait until Dr. Spaulding was elsewhere before wading into that snake pit. For now, I would hold Amy and breathe in her lovely scent.

“I love you Amy,” I said softly, only loud enough for her to hear.

“I love you, Luke. Please don’t scare me like that again. Why didn’t you come back after you got shot? Lori said you nearly bled to death.” As she said this last part, I could hear the tears in her voice.

“Because I thought you were dead. I couldn’t stand the thought of living without you. I was stupid. I should have checked on you, but you were so still and there was all that blood…”

I felt my own tears start then, and Amy spent the next few moments kissing them away.

“Please don’t do anything like that again, Luke. We don’t need a Romeo and Juliet ending here. When Scott carried you back over to their house, I saw all that blood and it was
my
turn to think you were dead.”

I kissed her and held her close, ignoring the pain in my gut in favor of Amy. She was worth a little agony… and then some.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

The next day, I was feeling much better and that was good since I had a steady parade of visitors come to see if I was still alive. Sergeant Jenkins for one seemed pleased to see I was still kicking, having gotten the story from Lori and Amy while I was out. Summer was out of the room, taking a turn in the primitive shower with Amy’s help, so the sergeant felt free to express himself fully.

“So, you were going to cut off all their fucking heads? Seriously? They were already dead, weren’t they? That is some serious anger issues you got there, buddy.”

He said it all like he was discussing a bad call by an ump in a baseball game. Just shaking his head but not really invested in the topic. What was barbaric and evil five months ago now just merited a gentle chiding from friends.

“I thought they’d killed Amy. You saw what I did to those fuckers that killed Jay. I’d only known him for a day. I’ve been with Amy for nearly two months now. I’d have gone and killed their families and fucked the family dog if I hadn’t taken a bullet in the gut. I was pissed, if you get me.”

“And you love this girl. Believe me, I get it,” Jenkins said, holding up his hands in a mildly mocking gesture. “So what are you gonna do now? I mean, obviously you can stay here, Luke. Captain don’t care how old you are, just that you can do the job. Sergeant Barlow says you are a natural born killer but disciplined and reliable, and he’s seen you in action. You have options is all I’m saying.”

“Tell the captain thanks, but I still planning on rolling as soon as possible. Dr. Spaulding says I can be moved in a couple more days, so then it is over to the Thompson place for a day or two, and then we’re motoring on to Texas.”

“Still hoping for the happy ending, eh, Luke?”

He didn’t say it with any sarcasm, just an observation. Jenkins was a pretty perceptive guy. He had to be in order to properly lead his men in battle. He could tell I was not only anxious to get moving, but also more upset than I was letting on about what happened to the Thompsons. Their deaths seemed to be an omen of what I would find once I reached home. I tried not to think about it, but once a bad idea gets a toehold, good luck evicting it.

“I don’t know what I'll find when I get home, Sergeant, but I gotta try. Plus, no offense, McAlester is still a little dry for my tastes. I miss the humidity of the Piney Woods.”

Sergeant Jenkins laughed at that. He’d mentioned before that he’d been stationed at Fort Polk for a time back during his days in the Regular Army. He’d complained about the mosquitoes and the humid nights, but it sounded like a postcard from home to me.

“Alright, Luke, suit yourself. The captain still wanted to know if you might be available this afternoon. He’s expecting a friend of yours to be visiting; maybe more than one. Don’t bother grilling me, either. I don’t know what he meant, but he did say we needed to see about getting you a higher security clearance. I can only speculate about that one.”

He really didn’t have to. Must be about the DHS movements, both the ones I knew about and whatever else the bastards might be up to out there.

“Well, I’ll be sure and wear something pretty. Maybe Amy could help me with my hair,” I simpered, batting my eyes at the sergeant.

“You know, Luke, you’re a funny guy to be so fucking scary. You up for a wheelchair ride yet?”

“I think so. I will be. Uh, can you do me a favor?”

“Maybe. Does it involve anything illegal?” Jenkins asked, his eyes dancing with mirth. Like Lt. Germann, the guy just liked sparring with me. He’d been a little standoffish at first, but in only a few days I’d apparently earned a little of his trust.

“Illegal? Well, you guys are the law around here, so you tell me. I just feel naked in here without even a plastic butter knife. You think you can go over to the lockers in the shower room and bring back my Glock? Amy said that’s where the medical types stashed my gear. I’d sleep better.”

Jenkins allowed he could see how I might feel that way. Since I was ‘security’, he could allow me to assume protection duties for the ward while I was recovering in here.

“Actually, I was joking, but imagine what would have happened to the folks in here if those gang assholes got this far.”

I shivered. I didn’t need much imagination to get a blood-washed view of how they would have handled all these helpless mouths to feed. The lucky ones would die quick.

“On second thought, please bring my holster and spare magazines, too. I’ll be ready if something like that happens.”

Jenkins said he’d see to it and excused himself.

After a lunch of canned fruit, I got my next visitor. Captain Bisley still looked like death warmed over and I thought about getting up and letting him use my cot to catch a few minutes of sleep. He still managed a tight grin when he saw me.

“Luke, what are you still doing in bed? I figured you’d be up and about by now. Not going to let a little belly wound get you down, are ya? Doc said other than a nicked intestine and some soft tissue damage, you should be fine.”

I smiled back and sat up, wincing at the terrible pain but not giving in to it. I was still too wobbly to stand, but Amy said she would find me a wheelchair to do wheelies in if I was a good boy.

“I have to say, Captain, getting shot sucks. I took a round a few weeks ago in the chicken plate and thought that was bad. Then I get a little bullet burn on the arm and thought I was tough shit. Now, though, I’m seriously considering getting out of the gun fighting business. This stuff really hurts.”

Bisley suddenly grew serious at this and looked around the room. He saw Summer and the other invalids in their beds and I knew he had something he wanted to discuss. Just then, Amy came clattering into the room, pushing an old wheelchair that was probably first used to haul around victims of the War of Northern Aggression. Or what Yankees called the Civil War; for some reason, that conflict had been on my mind lately.

“Think you can take a ride with me, Luke?”

I nodded. “If my girl can hold that contraption still and if the wheels don’t fall off, I’m game,” I replied, trying to exude a cocky air. In reality, I was dreading the movement required.

Amy sniffed in mock offense, and then started easing the chair away from the bed a few inches at a time taunting me. “Just for that, I’m giving you a moving target.”

Holding up my hand in surrender, I gave her an apologetic look and she sighed before moving the chair next to my prone form. Following Nurse Nicole’s advice, I slowly eased back up and carefully slid my feet over and lowered them to the cool tile floor. I wanted to drop them but my nurse warned that sudden movements were just asking for more pain. I paid attention to her instructions even though I looked like an old man moving. Or a turtle.

The captain stepped forward to assist, as did Amy, but I waved them aside good naturedly even as I felt like my lower abdomen was falling out of my body cavity. The bullet struck me low and on the right side, missing the liver and nicking a coil of intestine that Doc Spaulding managed to fix. I was still mostly on liquids and soft food, but really needed more nutrients too much to stick closely to the pre-fall diet. My low body fat meant low reserves for the body to use in healing.

Once I was gingerly settled in the chair, Captain Bisley started to take the handles to push me but Amy stepped forward first and set her hands on the hard plastic grips. I knew he wanted to speak with me in private, but I kept no secrets from Amy. Not anymore.

“Whatever is said, Amy will know anyway. Might as well let her haul the freight,” I said simply, and the officer nodded. He led the way back out the doorway and into the hall. I was not surprised to see he was leading us back to his office.

No, that was no surprise. The shocker was who we found waiting.

Captain Devayne looked road weary and just as worn down as Captain Bisley, and I was shocked to see how tired Captain Vanderpool looked as well. Vanderpool’s dark complexion hid the signs better, but I could tell he was nearing the point of total exhaustion himself.

Captain Bisley waited until he had the door shut to start the conversation.

“From what I’ve heard, no introductions are necessary. Luke, these gentlemen wanted to pick your brain a little bit after they assured themselves you were in good hands.”

“Hey guys,” I said conversationally, “great to see the two of you, but what the heck?”

Before either man could answer, I remembered that the Private Grady and the other two men had been under Captain Vanderpool’s command. I cleared my throat and spoke quickly.

“Captain Vanderpool, I am very sorry about the loss of your men. There was nothing they could have done, and it was only blind luck that I survived. Sergeant Halloran was a good man, as were his men. I wish I could have done more.”

Looking down, I waited for the man to answer. He nodded sadly before answering. Then he looked me in the eye, and I saw the fierce anger burning there.

“It is never easy to lose men under your command, Luke, and I appreciate your kind words. I heard about the deaths, but because of our communications issues, I didn’t hear the whole story until today. Thank you for getting the ones that pulled the triggers. Now we are going after the ones that gave the orders.”

Well, that certainly got the meeting off to a bang of a start. And the shocks just kept coming as I listened in as the three men planned out their next moves.

Captain Devayne had not come alone. All but one platoon of his company were here and they were ready for war. The absent one platoon was deployed at the Keller farm, under the command of newly promoted Lieutenant Nathan Conners. I grinned briefly at that news, since I knew him back when he was but a lowly corporal. Then I had to ask the harder questions.

“What about Fayetteville?” I asked softly, and from the captain’s expression, I knew the city was well and truly lost.

“We had to move all of our operations over to Fort Smith,” Captain Devayne admitted sadly. “But the colonel ended up deploying a company’s worth of men at the various strong points established in the area. Darwin helped create a network of farms and small scale manufacturing works outside the cities. All of our families are mainly resettled at Fort Chaffee now.”

This came as no surprise, but I still felt a lump of sadness form in my throat. The population centers remained untenable, especially after the pulse rendered the infrastructure essentially useless. For months, Colonel Hotchkins and his men had labored to bring fresh water and what little food they could spare to the beleaguered citizens, but finally the last warehouse was emptied and empty bellies drove citizens to acts of horrible desperation.

“The colonel would have preferred to keep us focused on our humanitarian missions, or assisting local law enforcement,” Captain Devayne continued, “but other events have forced his hand. Are you familiar with a facility in Pine Bluff, Luke?”

I was, and suddenly I felt all the air leave the room. Obviously, this was not news to the other men, but I could tell they didn’t like it.

For Amy’s benefit, Captain Devayne gave a brief background.

“Pine Bluff is one of the places the federal government has most of those nasty chemical weapons we have in our arsenal that other countries aren’t supposed to have. The facility is for storage and disposal they say, but strangely enough they never do dispose of them.

“Anyway, the place had a huge contract and civilian employee population, but only about twenty military personnel on site. That doesn’t include the rapid reaction force maintained there by the Department of Defense, which is also made up of contractors; mostly former military. They also have a large Homeland Security presence.”

“Oh shit,” I murmured, and I knew where this was going. “Homeland took over?”

Devayne gave me a hard grin and shook his head.

“They tried to early on, but their hearts just weren’t in it. Understand that I’m getting all of this second hand, but I can read between the lines. General Schofield was running the place following all security protocols except he couldn’t even feed his people. So he ended up with the security team running a skeleton crew and almost all the civilian employees went home to take care of their families. Interestingly, so did most of the Homeland personnel. The few that stayed on didn’t have families and were folded into his command.

“Things rocked on like that for months, with the general trying to get guidance from higher up and getting nowhere. Then, one day last week, a column of black SUVs rolled up to the gate. Someone claiming to be the Regional Director for Homeland Security walked up and demanded to see the general. Said he was there to assume command of the facility. Now, Schofield has been there for over three years and has interacted with Homeland personnel for all that time and he says he had never seen this joker. None of his tame Homeland folks knew the guy either.”

“So what happened?” I asked, caught up in the drama of the moment.

“The general asked for some clarification and documentation. He was trying to be a good soldier and follow the rules, you see. This Regional Director pitched a fit and while he was making his demands and threats, General Schofield’s people were sending out the distress call to Camp Robinson. There was a standoff at the gate for a couple of hours until two companies of ANG showed up. General Tomzerak thought that would be enough to get these misguided individuals to see reason. But instead, the Homeland goons saw the convoy of Humvees coming up the road and tried to storm the gates. So they got slaughtered.”