The McClane Apocalypse Book 4 (2 page)

“You do something stupid like this again, young
lady, and you’ll be grounded for a month!” Cory reprimands with
loud authority.

“So? What are you going to do? Ground me from
chores?” Em asks in a more hushed tone.

“No, but I can lump onto your chores and you
can stop going over to hang out with the Johnson kids,” Cory
threatens in a father-like tone.

She goes back to
sulking
and
follows in their wake. Simon tries to placate her with a
conciliatory smile, but it doesn’t work. She stares off to the
side, snubbing him for not defending her.

“We should radio home,” Simon tells Cory as he
pulls his gelding in next to his friend’s horse in the open pasture
right before they cross into deeper woods again. Cory just nods
with unresolved irritation.

“Tango Three to Bravo One,” his friend says
into the walkie-talkie.

Almost a full minute goes by before Kelly’s
voice comes through loud and clear.

“Gotcha, Tango, go ahead,” Kelly
returns.

“Got a stowaway,” Cory retorts
angrily.

“Yeah, we just figured that out about five
minutes ago,” his brother answers.

“Should we bring her back to base?” Cory
asks.

He is
clearly
having mixed feelings as to
whether or not they should scrap this trip to return Em to the
safety of the farm.

“Negative, Tango,” Kelly replies. “You’re too
far out now for a return anyways.”

“Right,” Cory says.

“Just be careful. Watch your asses out
there.”

“Roger that, Bravo. Over and out,” Cory tells
him with a sigh of frustration.

Cory stashes the radio in his bag
again and
leads
them through the rough, dense forestry of Tennessee. They ride
in silence for another few hours or so until the hunting cabin
comes into view. The small structure is nestled at the bottom of a
ravine and covered in thick foliage,
sticks
and forest debris strategically
placed there
to conceal it
better
.

“Let’s leave Em here with the extra horse, and
we’ll head into the city,” Cory calls over to him. “It’ll be safer
for her, and we can move faster without her.”

“Sure, Cory,” Simon agrees and
also
dismounts
as they come to a stop in front of the rustic
cabin.

Em whines, “I want to go,
too,
Cory
!”

“Don’t even start, Em,” Cory berates her. “I’m
already pissed that you’re even here. You aren’t going with
us.”

His friend lugs heavy bags into the cabin that
contain their food and supplies for the two to three day trip as
Simon dismounts and slings his reins over the cabin’s hitching
post, installed there by John and Reagan two years ago.

“It would be safer if I went with you,” she
pleads her case when Cory returns. “I could stay somewhere with the
horses till you guys get back to them.”

“No way, Em,” Cory lectures as he re-tightens
his stallion’s girth. “It’s not safe there. It’s sometimes a damn
war zone. You’re safer here.”

Simon is keeping pace and has
placed the pack horse in the timber frame, three-sided shed they
built last spring. It isn’t exactly a fancy show barn with
individual stalls, rubber mats, hooks for bridles, or gold-framed
nameplates, but it keeps them dry and warm which is preferable to
standing outdoors in the rain, snow or cold all night. As he’s
taking off the saddle, Em comes up to
him,
and he frowns because he knows
what’s coming.

“Simon, can’t you talk to him? I want to go
with you and help, not sit here and babysit the horses and an empty
cabin,” she implores with big puppy eyes.

She has hit a growth spurt recently, but she
sure as heck isn’t going to get as tall as her brothers anytime
soon. She’s maybe five eight or so, but her two older brothers are
bulls. They each look like they could’ve played for Simon’s home
state’s Arizona Cardinals football team. Cory topped out a few
years ago at around six-three, which is still a few inches shorter
than Kelly. However, Simon’s only five-ten, the same height his
father had been. His red hair and his height are the only things he
will ever know for sure that he inherited from his deceased father.
Even though Simon’s almost twenty, he’s not thinking he’s going to
get any taller and neither does Doc, whose opinion is more
important. Cory had stopped growing after his nineteenth birthday,
something Reagan said she was glad for because she’d joked that if
he kept hitting growth spurts, they’d need to butcher an extra
steer.

“Em, come on. Don’t make me get in the middle
of this,” he says gently. “If Cory says no, then it’s a no,
kid.”

He’s trying to placate her, but he
knows she’s not about to relent so easily. Cory calls over to them
that he’s going inside and will be ready to leave
in
a
moment.

“But if I go with you, then I can
stay with the
horses
so nobody gets to them, right?”

She is using her flirty wiles and
her swingy, chestnut hair to try to sway him.
Normally
it works, but never
if he has to go against his best friend. Simon is well aware of the
fact that Em has a crush on him, but he’d never act on it. She’s
like a little sister to him. It’s the same way that Cory looks at
Samantha.

“Yeah, I guess. But that argument
isn’t going to work
on
your brother, Em. He’s pretty peeved at you right
now,” Simon tells her the obvious.

She smiles broadly and takes the saddle
blanket from him to hang over a board to dry. Cory joins them a
moment later.

“You ready, Simon?”

“Yeah, just a minute. Gotta hang this bridle
and then we can get moving,” he replies.

“I’m ready, too!” Em declares so slyly as if
her brother had not told her ten minutes ago that she wasn’t
going.

“Em, seriously. Grow up. You aren’t going,”
Cory tells her and turns to leave.

Her next argument stops him,
though.

“Simon agrees that I could be helpful by
looking after the horses for you while you guys do the raid,
ok?”

Simon’s eyes about pop out of his head. What
the heck is she doing?
“Really?” his friend asks. “You’re encouraging this crap,
Simon?”

Cory runs a hand through his shoulder length
black hair.

“Well, she could keep an eye on the
horses,” Simon states but gets a deadly glare from Cory. “Remember
that one time a couple years ago in
Clarksville when those two men tried to take our horses and
we
caught them at the last second before
they took off with them? That could always happen again. Besides,
we’ll tuck her away somewhere safe with the horses where she’s not
in danger.”

He is aiding Em, although he’s not
sure why he is doing so. She literally beams at him. She’s
so
pretty
and youthful and
positive
and everything that her brother
is not. Cory’s only twenty-two years old, but he has enough
negative mileage on him to be ninety. He’s seen and done too much
to carry the flair of youthfulness or naïve hopefulness with
him.

“Fine, damn it!”

Cory
curses
with a fury that is now mostly
aimed at Simon. Great. He doesn’t like it when there is
strife
between
them. Even if it is rare that it happens.

He continues on with the same
anger, “She can go with us, but she stays with the horses. We’ll
leave her at the one place near that car dealership that we
stowed
the horses
before.”

“Ok, Cory. That’ll work,” Simon answers
cautiously.

They ditch the rest of the bags and
remount to move out to the city that lies only about four miles
further east. The sun is just setting when the skyline of Nashville
breaks over the tree-lined horizon. Soon it will be dark, but they
have their night vision gear. Unlike Simon, Cory prefers to move
around in the dark and feels safest when they are doing so. They
are mindful of
danger
as they approach the rear of the permanently
closed car dealership where what few vehicles still remain have
been torched. They will leave Em about ten yards behind the
building still well within the cover of the surrounding forest
where she will be safe.

“If we aren’t back in one hour, leave for the
cabin and wait there,” Cory explains as he dismounts.

Em hops down, too, and mostly huffs and stomps
dramatically because she wants to go with them.

Cory glares at her and continues, “I brought
you this far and should’ve left your ass back at the cabin. Stay
here. I’ll be back, ok?”

“Fine,” Em complains. “But tomorrow I’m going
with you guys. This sucks! I’m not a baby, Cory.”

“Then don’t act like one and wait here,” her
big brother orders.

Simon takes his rifle from its scabbard, checks
his pistol at his hip and pulls his night vision goggles from the
sack on his horse. Cory is mimicking his movements and getting
ready to move out, as well.

“Stay put, Em,” Simon says with a smile. “We’ll
be back quicker than this.” He snaps his fingers and gets a smile
from her. However, she goes right back to frowning at her brother,
who just shakes his head impatiently at her.

“I’ll stay and babysit the horses,”
she laments. “Great!
This is so
exciting.”

Her sarcasm makes Cory chuckle
and
tap
the
tip of her upturned nose affectionately. He also snatches her into
a bear hug and then releases her.

“We’ll be right back, kid,” Cory tells her.
“Then we can all go back to the cabin and you can make us
dinner!”

“Hey!” Em says on a pucker, trying to hide a
grin.

They move quickly through the city,
jogging here, sprinting there, collecting items as they go and
stuffing them into their backpacks. There are a few areas where
fires are visible in the distance that people have likely lit to
stay warm.
Usually
these people are harmless or just indigent persons
trying to stick together for support and sharing fires for warmth
or cooking. Mostly they are newly appointed victims of the modern
apocalypse. Some could be lawyers or professionals, former doctors
or even the mayor of this city. Many people have taken to living on
the streets of America, their homes likely raided or burned to the
ground or destroyed by natural disasters. One time a few years ago
when they were doing a neighborhood raid near Clarksville with John
and Kelly, they’d
spied
a small group of people who had barricaded off
their short street in the suburbs. They’d used abandoned vehicles
and tall fencing to cordon off and secure the
street
. None of these people
have the luxury of living somewhere like the remote, flourishing
McClane farm, however.

It doesn’t take long to find a
small, mom-and-pop auto parts store on an obscure, side road in the
city where they locate and
take
the last two carburetors on one of
the back shelves in the storage overflow. Cory also grabs a few
other parts and hoses that he says may come in handy. Simon leads
the way out the back door, and they take a knee in the alley. The
pack on Simon’s back is
heavy
and full
with
contraband items.
Pretty much
all of
the food items in stores are gone now, but sometimes other, more
obscure things like rope, buckets, tools, books, car and tractor
parts, and building supplies are still there. His pack probably
weighs a good sixty pounds.

“We’d better head back to Em. Saw a
band moving to our west,” he tells his friend. His stomach
grumbles
in
protest of keeping such late dinner hours, and Cory smirks at
him.

“Should I have brought you a
croissant,
good
sir?” Cory teases with good humor.

Simon punches his shoulder. It’s a massive
thing, Cory’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I saw them, too,” Cory relays. “You’re
right, bro. We should move.”

They double time it back to the site where they
left Cory’s sister of whom he is so protective. They are both
protective of Em and Samantha, as well. They are orphaned young
women who need all the protection they can get in this cruel new
world.

They carefully make their way down the steep
hill behind the dealership and move through the dense woods behind
it to where Em awaits them. Her eyes are wide and frightened when
they get to her.

“What is it, Em?” Simon
inquires
and
touches her arm lightly.

“I saw some people a little while ago over
there,” she tells them in a rush and points to their
south.