Hard Rain Falling (Walking in the Rain Book 3) (18 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

“I still say he don’t look like much” I heard a voice pronounce, too close, and the Glock was in my hand and lifting before my eyes had a chance to open.

“Whoa, Luke, hold on,” another voice called, and this one was female and familiar. I lifted my head and saw Lori standing in front of the wheelchair, flanked by a young man with similar hair and tanned features but with a distinctive Roman nose. Judging from Lori’s height, I estimated him to be about six foot, maybe a smidge under, and while still skinny like the rest of us, his shoulders hinted at a normally stockier build. Not running to fat, but more like well-muscled.

“Sorry,” I muttered, still sleep-touched. Dr. Spaulding was right. The weakness, mostly due to blood loss, meant I got tired easily. After our conversation, I encouraged Amy to go check on Summer and leave me out to enjoy the sun on my face. That lasted about fifteen minutes before my head started feeling too heavy for my body. Good to see that a small dose of adrenalin was all it took to get me back on my game after a short nap.

Lori turned to the young man, obviously her brother, and gave him a smack to the bicep.

“Shit, Scott. Do you have to be such a tool? He just got shot for Christ’s sake.”

Lowering the pistol, I slipped my hand back under the blanket. Once the Glock was back in its holster, I extended my now empty hand to shake. Scott took it tentatively, but with a strong grip.

“Again, my apologies. I didn’t mean to react that way. I just startle easy these days. Scott? Thanks for helping haul my ass back. I really appreciate it. The doctor said I was pretty close to bleeding out if you hadn’t helped Lori get me back in time.”

Scott gave me a steady look and nodded before speaking again.

“You’re welcome. And I understand from Lori that I have a lot of things for which I should be thanking you. The lives of my two sisters, for starters. I didn’t mean it the way that came out earlier. You just look like a regular kid, you know, not like some teen-aged Mad Max.”

“Did you see the new one?” I asked, not able to help myself.

“Yeah, it was okay. Still liked the second movie from the first series the best, though. You?”

“Nah. Couldn’t get to see it before the pulse hit. Didn’t know it was coming or I would have done a lot of things different.”

That got a grim laugh from both siblings.

“Yeah, like going to Chicago, right?” Lori said.

I thought about her question for a second. “No, looking back, I would still have done it. I might have done some things differently along the way, though.”

Now both Thompsons looked at me like I was deranged.

“Why the heck would you say that?” Lori demanded, sorely confused by my admission.

“If I hadn’t gone to Chicago, I wouldn’t have been there when Amy needed me. Or you and Summer.” I spoke with all sincerity, and Lori had the good grace to blush in embarrassment. Not because of what I said, but as she realized the
truth
in what I said.

“You really are one strange dude, Luke,” she finally said, and her eyes were moist as she spoke.

“I admit I’m sometimes not the most well-balanced person you might find. Sorry for our digression Scott, I’m glad to finally meet you. Have you given any thought to what you will be doing next?” I jumped right into the next topic, feeling the urge to get this done. Also, I wanted to gauge his reactions to stress.

“Well, with the Suburban, that opens up a whole lot of new opportunities. We didn’t have a running vehicle before and now we do. How is that thing running, anyway? I heard all the really old stuff would still work, but this one even has the power seats and a CD player that still plays.”

Lori’s face turned crimson at her brother’s presumption, but I answered anyway.

“I suspect it has to do with where it was stored. Either underground or in a specially grounded metal building. As for the rest, I hate to point out but that is actually my Suburban. I killed three men and crippled a fourth, then stared down a squad of soldiers for it. Sorry, Lori has been using it with my blessing, but the Suburban goes with us when we head south.”

Scott nodded, acknowledging his misstatement. He wasn’t trying to cause problems or create a rift between the two tiny groups, but having the use of the SUV while I was laid up meant they had the ability to get around like before the lights went out.

“Sorry, what I meant was we could scout out another place to live while using the truck. Actually, Lori has been cruising the neighborhoods, trying to track down the families of those girls you helped rescue. Did you really try to bluff your way in pretending to be me?”

“I understand. And yes, I tried, though it didn’t work to get us past the first guard,” I replied, watching his reactions closely. He still had a friendly looking grin on his face.

“So how did you get past him?”

“Well, I ended up killing him after we extracted the information necessary to free your youngest sister.”

I intentionally made it sound more like torture than the intimidation I really used to get the information. Scott lost his grin but didn’t look away.

“I hear you. Things have been pretty much the same here.”

“I don’t mean to pry, Scott, but what happened? I know some neighbors attacked your folks, but can you give me any more details? There have been some really questionable things happening in this town already. That’s why I’m asking.”

Scott looked like I’d kicked him in the gut, but he didn’t avoid the question.

“We had food after the event. Dad was a prepper and believed in having lots of shelf stable food on hand in case of something happening. Half the time Momma thought he was wasting his time, but she didn’t mind and actually they saved money on groceries buying the way they did.

“In those first few days, my parents didn’t want to accept what had happened. I mean, my father couldn’t believe the lights were going to be off forever. Or until somebody fixes them, which might just as well be that long. He prepared, but the event was still overwhelming to him, I think. Momma was worse, going on about doing her Christian duty, and she set up a soup kitchen and tried to donate food anonymously to feed who she could.

“Of course, people figured out who it was. Dad was pissed when he found out what Momma had done, and moved all the food back down into the shelter. He wasn’t angry with her really, but that someone found out we still had food. He said we couldn’t feed the neighborhood, and he was right. Dad had stockpiled a ton of food, but half of it was gone before the end of the first month.

“We started rationing, really tight after that, and I started staying out hunting in the grasslands longer. I know the girls being gone really weighed on my parents,” he said this with a sad look to Lori, but not accusingly, “And they talked constantly about going to look for them. But they never did.

“I figured the neighbors gave up on us having more food after a few months, since we were now just about as skinny as they were. People stopped banging on the door and shaking their fists at us anyway. Dad still kept a small reserve of grain, but we’d planted a big garden from the first and that was mainly keeping us fed, along with the rabbits I brought in from time to time. Dad had built a large cistern in the back yard for saving runoff from the roof and we used that water to keep the garden going.

“For months this went on, all of us just scraping by, and there was some fighting but it was always somewhere else. Mom and Dad had some close friends as neighbors on one side of us, and we worked with the Danfords to keep the big garden going as well as dehydrating and preserving as much of the harvest as we could.”

For the first time, Scott looked down, studying his shoes.

“All during this time, I was crossing back and forth over to Haileyville to see my girlfriend. They had a barricade up back then and kept it manned to watch out for raiders coming through. I was bringing food over to her, trying to keep her and her mom and her little brother alive. They were starving, but her mother would not take the food from me. So I brought it to Helena and she pretended to pick it up from the market. Then she would make them something to eat. Helena tried to grow a garden for the three of them, but someone kept going in at night and stealing everything.

“One day when I was walking home from visiting Helena, I could tell something was wrong as soon as I started coming up the street. I could hear gunfire and screaming, and it all sounded close. Too close. I started running; my heart felt like it was beating out of my chest.

“I expected to find raiders outsiders attacking my home. But I recognized these people shooting into the house, these raggedy scarecrows with their shotguns and machetes. There was Mr. Patel, from down the way who owned the corner store, and Mrs. Saunders, who worked at the plant with my dad and lived a few rows down in the left. I saw other neighbors, down dead in the grass and at least one running out the front door of the house carrying a nearly empty flour canister. I knew it was nearly empty because it was my job to grind the stuff.”

Scott stifled a sob before he could continue.

“As soon as I realized what was going on, I started shooting. Killing my neighbors. They shot back, but I think I surprised them by approaching from the street. I lost count how many I shot, but it didn’t matter. When I got to the house, I found my father laying in the living room. He was breathing out his last, with a river of pink froth foaming up out of his mouth. My mother was out back, a bullet in her head.

“I actually understand why you did what you did, Luke. I went around and cut the throats every one of those fuckers still breathing. Then I buried my parents and the Danfords, who also died trying to protect the garden and the supplies in the house.”

I reached out, laying a hand on the young man’s arm. He looked down but did not pull away.

“Thank you. I know that must have been hard. I can’t imagine what that must have been like. I wanted you to tell me your story, because I want to offer you and your people a chance. I cannot promise what we will find, but I have a feeling my family is still alive. My dad had a plan and he has friends who would go to our ranch in the event something like this happened.”

“You really think so, Luke?” Lori asked, tears streaming down her face. She heard it all, of course. Stood right there and listened to how her parents were murdered. Killed by some of the same people Mrs. Thompson had helped.

“Lori, my dad was a Marine for a long time. He’s got my grandfather, who is just as tough as old boot leather, and if my Uncle Billy made it in from Dallas, then yeah, I think there’s a good chance. If any of my father’s old buddies made it over, then likely as not they’ve already turned the homestead into a firebase.” I added that last bit with a chuckle, since that was just the truth.

Scott stood as if in thought, then looked me in the eyes.

“Luke, I ain’t got nowhere else to go. Momma had a sister over in Kansas City, but that might as well be on the moon; unless I wanted to just walk it, but I am not that crazy.” He gave a little grin at that last statement. “If you’ll take us, all of us, then I’m in.”

“Great. Let’s go find my other wheelie buddy and we can go meet the rest of your people.”

Just then, I heard a rattle of wheels on concrete and looked to my left to see Amy coming and pushing Summer in a cool looking wheelchair that looked like it should have mag wheels and a flag on the back. I wanted to give Amy shot about giving me the old person wheelchair, but figured I would save the kidding around for later.

Despite Scott’s quick recovery from the emotional tale, the mood was a somber one as we waited for the other two girls. Scott had bared his soul when he told the story of his parents’ death and I could tell the guy still carried around a load of guilt. Certainly he felt responsible because he wasn’t there, but the blame, if any, was on his mother. She exposed the family to danger by her reckless actions. You can’t save everybody, and trying to do so can often mean killing everybody instead. I would never tell him that, but I wondered deep down if Scott already knew.

“What’s up?” Summer asked, giving us a big smile despite her injury and the jarring of the chair ride.

“We’re just going on a little road trip,” I said, and gestured to the parking lot.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Scott helped me into the folded up wheelchair while Lori and Amy assisted Summer. Really, as long as Summer kept her weight off the leg, she seemed to be in fairly good shape. Better than me. Only Scott saw my hard façade crack as he helped me out of the car seat and into the chair.

“Are you sure?” he asked, concern clear in his features. We were alone in the garage, with the girls already clattering inside following Summer’s sports car chair.

“It’s just pain. I can feel the stitches pulling a little, but mainly the hurting is from flexing muscles. Trust me; you don’t know how many muscles run through the lower abdomen until you catch a bullet there.” I hissed out through gritted teeth as I continued down into a seated position. “Doctor Spaulding says to give it a few more days and I’ll be able to move around better. Really, I got lucky. Another few inches in any direction and the slug would have hit something vital. This way, I just have to gut it out and keep going.” I said this in a more conversational tone as the strain ended, leaving me in the usual amount of pain.

“Really? ‘Gut it out’ is the best you can come up with?” Scott replied jokingly, and only then did I realize the bad pun I’d inadvertently made. I guess I was accidentally funnier than I thought. I left it alone since we were now navigating around the narrow door leading from the garage into the house itself.

The inside of the Thompson house was in stark contrast to the overgrown, abandoned appearance from the outside. The house was clean and smelled of Pine Sol. I was shocked at the difference, and realized the exterior was a form of camouflage for the house. ‘Nothing to see here, move right along’ was the message. Like many homes in this style, the garage door opened up straight into the kitchen.

Scott’s girlfriend, Helena, and her mother, Connie, were there to welcome us and I could see the look of consternation on Helena’s features as she took in Summer’s bandaged and elevated leg. She didn’t give me a second glance, which was fine for now. I didn’t see the younger children yet, so they must be playing in another room or something. I noticed Helena was painfully thin, with medium brown hair and large brown eyes. Anyone seeing her before the event would automatically assume she had an eating disorder. Now, I knew she had just been malnourished.

For her part, Lori strode across the room quickly to give Connie a familiar hug, which the older woman returned warmly. She was like an older and more careworn carbon copy of her daughter, and nearly as gaunt. Helena’s mother still looked shocked to see the girl, even though Lori had been by the house two or three times since our first, ill-fated visit.

“Connie,” Scott said, stepping forward to make the introductions, “I know you’ve seen these two before, but now they’re all cleaned up and bandaged. This is Luke”—he gestured to my seated form—“and this is Amy.” Again with the polite wave, almost a flourish.

We exchanged ‘nice to meet you’ pleasantries, and then moved, walked, or rolled out of the kitchen and into the living room. Despite the cleaning and generally good state of repair, I could tell some parts of the house had seen battle. The walls of the kitchen, for instance, showed signs of hastily patched bullet holes in the drywall. The living room, however, reflected the story Scott told of what had happened here. Mr. Thompson had died in this room, and he’d taken a tithe of his attackers along for the ride.

The carpet was removed, as was the pad underneath, and a patchwork of throw rugs failed to conceal the bare concrete floor. The brick fireplace was chipped in half a dozen places, and two of the internal walls were peppered with shotgun pellets and bullet holes. Mismatched furniture provided seating for those of us without our own convenient accoutrements. I wondered how Scott could stand to live where his parents had died, but kept the question to myself.

“Alright,” Scott said as the group settled into their places. I noticed Helena was sitting close to Scott on one of the loveseats, their hands interlinked. Amy, sitting in a straight backed kitchen chair, had taken mine absently as I wheeled into place next to her. Working the wheelchair made my gut ache, but I insisted I was fine.

“Helena, Connie, you know we can’t stay here, right? We’ve already talked about where we could go, but Luke and Amy have given us the option of traveling with them to Texas. Luke is pretty sure his folks will have weathered the storm in good shape. From what Lori has told me, I gather his parents are like Mom and Dad that way, except out in the country.”

He looked to me for confirmation and I nodded then went into a little more detail.

“My grandfather was what used to be called a survivalist before it became a dirty word. My father picked up some of the same ideas, both at home growing up and later when he was in the Marines. My mom is a teacher and is a more reluctant prepper, but she was on board with the plans if something should happen.”

“Have you been able to get in contact with them since the event?” Connie asked hopefully, her face a mixture of hope and concern. Whatever her mental block was concerning the reality of the situation, she seemed to be tracking fairly well at the moment.

“No, ma’am. But I haven’t tried, either. At first, I wanted to and I’m sure my grandpa has his old HAM radio running, but I really didn’t want to risk it.”

That comment earned me curious looks from Scott, Helena, and Connie as they sat regarding me. For my part, I looked to Lori, who shook her head slightly. She had not raised the subject yet it seemed. I decided to take the bull by the horns.

“Y’all have seen the destruction, and the fighting as neighbor turns on neighbor for food. I don’t need to go over that. However, we—Amy, Lori, Summer, and I—have all been witness to another struggle taking shape.”

With that preamble, I gave a brief description of what I’d seen myself, followed up with an even shorter summary of what others had passed on to me. I didn’t say who told me these things, but since I’d been working with the Guard forces here, it didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out the source. Helena did not appear shocked by the news, but I thought Connie might go into full-blown hysteria.

“But that can’t be possible. They are supposed to be the ones protecting us! Luke, dear, are you sure you aren’t just misinterpreting the actions of a few people acting on their own?” Connie was staring down at her lap, studying her interlocked fingers as she spoke, and only looking up at me at the last second to fix me with a terrified look.

“This is what I thought at first, ma’am,” I agreed, “But the steadily increasing rate of these attacks and their apparent cooperation with groups like the prison gang members has me thinking this is bigger than just this town, or even this state. That’s why I didn’t try to contact my parents, or even give my real last name to the nice people at Fort Chaffee. If there’s a rogue element in our federal government murdering dissenting generals and determined to get their hands on something like nerve gas, I don’t want to even be a blip on their radio intercept technology.”

Lori gave me a nervous look, and then leaned into Amy’s shoulder for support before she spoke.

“Didn’t all that stuff get destroyed when the energy pulse hit? I still don’t understand how some things still work and not others. Like why the Humvees work, but not the tanks we saw at Fort Chaffee.”

“That Suburban in the garage shouldn’t work, like I told Scott earlier. Too many delicate electrical systems. Computers and long-line connected electronics were also particularly vulnerable to whatever took place. I am still leaning towards a solar event, but it doesn’t matter. We know some members of the federal government got word in advance, and took certain precautions. Like sheltering a fleet of black Suburbans for later use and shutting down the nuclear power plants. Some people are also worried about possible drone strikes, which would be improbable without shielding some of the systems.

“But getting back to your question, Lori. Certain vehicles, like some of the Humvees, use older technology that is more robust than the current computer assisted systems, like fuel injection and such. Those APCs, the M113s, ran because they date from the Vietnam era and still work even if their fancy electronics were inoperable. If you remember, I did some work on certain other vehicles at Fort Chaffee.”

I could have gone on, but we were getting further away from the topic at hand.

“So, there seems to be a power struggle going on, mostly behind the scenes. At the same time, hundreds of thousands of Americans have died because of this catastrophe, and the survivors are only getting more ruthless… or determined. I can’t promise you all safety, but if we travel together and take advantage of the National Guard convoy headed for Texas, that should help quite a bit.”

After that, we sat and talked for a few more hours. Connie went and got her son Kevin and the little girl they had rescued, Rachel, out of one of the back bedrooms where Kevin had been sent to entertain the child while the grownups talked. Kevin was eleven, short for his age and as insanely thin as his sister Helena. I suspected Connie, under her baggy clothes, was just as emaciated. Clearly, the only reason any of them still lived came down to Scott and his food deliveries.

Scott had explained earlier that he’d found Rachel wandering the streets and couldn’t abandon her to an almost foregone fate. Scott said she was six years old and when asked her name she had responded with ‘RachelLeighLanders’. That was about all anyone could get out of the little girl, and he didn’t know any Landers family in the neighborhood. He’d found her wearing blood splashed clothes and wandering the streets about a mile from the Hybernia Drive home. The blood wasn’t hers, and she claimed to not remember how it got there, but the little girl cried herself to sleep almost every night.

Today she seemed to be very social though, and made a point of shaking my hand like a big girl and asking why Summer and I were in those funny chairs. Before I could respond, Summer got her distracted by asking her if she liked playing with ponies. Of course she did, and with Lori’s help, they rescued a box of colorful plastic ponies from a high shelf in Summer’s room.

“I feel like a fool. Rachel’s been here two days and I haven’t found her any toys to play with.”

Two days? I thought about the time line, and I wondered if I was she reason she as an orphan. I resolved to never go down that mental road, and we continued discussing contingencies for the trip. Lori and Summer were all for it, Scott was resigned to making the move, and Helena had finally noticed I was in the room.

“Just so we are clear about things, Luke, you are with Amy, correct?”

“Yes. When Amy gets older and things settle down, we plan to marry.”

That got a look from Connie. She turned to Amy and I thought, ‘here it comes’.

“How old are you, dear?”

“I’ll be fifteen in a few days,” Amy replied, no longer shy about the question. She was comfortable with me, and the age issue was not important to her.

“And you Luke?”

“Sixteen, ma’am.”

“Well, you know, couples married early in the old days. I can see that trend is returning in this new age. I guess I need to have a talk with Scott and Helena about their intentions later though.”

That got a laugh from all of us, including Rachel, but Helena was blushing as he chuckled. After spending this time with the new folks, I was feeling a good deal better about adding them to the mix. Adding Scott at least meant one more fighter, and I knew I could count Amy, Lori and Summer in that category as well. Based on my candid discussions with Dr. Spaulding, I knew Summer would be mobility limited for quite a while even after she was allowed to start walking again, whereas once my incision closed, the only thing stopping me would be the residual pain. So, not a concern.

Taking my wheelchair by the handles, Scott rolled me into an unused office on the side of the house and showed me the collection of weapons he’d stripped off the dead neighbors. Most of it was junk, old revolvers and double barreled shotguns, but I saw a few weapons we would want to incorporate into our arsenal.

“I figured you’d want everything. Uh, Lori said you are a weapons hoarder.”

I laughed, and then grimaced. Scott frowned in sympathy.

“No, not as much as she thinks. What are you using now?”

“30-30 Marlin 336. Got a little scope but mainly I use the irons. That’s for self-defense. For rabbits, I use a pump pellet gun.”

I nodded. That was smart, and I told him so. A pellet gun was enough to kill a rabbit or squirrel but was relatively silent, so as not to alert other hunters.

“Lori thinks I have a gun fetish because I am always looking to upgrade our weapons. I just like having the right firearm for the problem. When I killed those people in the houses next door, I used an M4 carbine, because of the short barrel and ease of handling. I left my .308 battle rifle in the truck because it wasn’t the tool for the job. Make sense?”

Scott nodded without hesitation. He stood over the pile of weapons, and I could tell he was trying to explain something to me that he thought I might not want to hear.

“Yeah, it does. Also tells me you are a cold-blooded planner, too. I don’t mean that as an insult. That you had the presence of mind to grab the right tool for the job speaks to your ability to lead this herd of cats. Don’t think I haven’t wondered why my sister holds you in such regard, or what makes those soldiers back at the base tip their hats to you every time they walk past you. I’ve got no qualms about your age, or your ability to fucking kill everybody in the room if necessary. I just needed to see you with Amy to be sure you were the right man for the job.”