The McClane Apocalypse Book Five (50 page)

“Oh, great. More master manipulators,” he
jokes.

“Back to our game. Where would you be? It’s
your turn,” she reminds him.

He sighs and says, “Don’t know for sure. I
was looking into colleges. I really liked the idea of genetic
research for medical purposes. I kind of thought I might want to go
to Johns Hopkins.”

“In Maryland?”

“Yep, that’s the one,” he teases with a grin.
“Who knows, though? I was also looking into some other
schools.”

“Did you get really good grades in school or
something? That’s a pretty prestigious school, Simon.”

“Uh, yeah. I did all right,” he says with
modesty. “Don’t misinterpret me, though. I’m no Doc or Reagan on
the academic level.”

She’s quite sure that he did more than all
right if he was looking into going to a medical college like Johns
Hopkins. Strangely, Sam feels proud of him.

“I don’t know about that. Moving on,” she
announces before he can argue. “Food you miss the most.”

He chuckles and says, “My mom’s homemade mac
n’ cheese. Man, that was some good stuff. Sometimes, she’d make a
big tray of it and a bunch of burgers on the grill for me and my
friends on her days off from the hospital.”

“That’s right. She worked as a nurse. I
forgot,” Sam tells him.

“Yes, she was very smart. Smarter than me,
that’s for sure.”

Sam chuckles and remarks, “I doubt that.
Besides, you had to get it from someone, right?”

“I suppose so,” he agrees. “I looked more
like my dad, though. That’s where Paige and I get the red hair. It
runs on my dad’s side.”

“I saw the picture of her you carry in your
wallet,” Sam tells him.

“Right. And you definitely look like your
mother. You were her twin,” Simon tells her.

“I suppose so. I’m glad really because I can
carry that with me, that piece of her,” Sam admits.

“I’ll take you there when we get back, all
right? I didn’t forget. We’ve just been busy finishing the harvest
and getting ready for winter,” he promises.

“I think winter’s just about here,” Sam says,
remembering the light snowfall outside.

“No doubt,” Simon agrees. “Now what food do
you miss? We need to wrap this up so that you can get some
sleep.”

Sam smiles at him, even though she isn’t sure
if he can see her well because of the dim lighting.

“My mom’s sugar cookies. They were so
good,” Sam says, drawing out the word ‘so.’ “She’d make them at
Christmas, and we’d eat so many she’d have to hide them just so
she’d have a few to set out for guests. She made them for my dad’s
workers, too. She used to put them in little Chinese take-out
containers all stacked inside so cute and
pretty
. She was a really good cook, but her frosted
sugar cookies were the best.”

“All right, this game needs to end. I’m
getting hungry thinking about all this food,” Simon
jests
with a grin.

“Me, too,” Sam says
with
a wide yawn. “Maybe Hannah will make sweet
rolls for breakfast when we get back in a few days.”

“Great, now I’m thinking about those, too,”
Simon jests again on a groan.

At least Sam thinks he’s kidding
around. He sounds
somewhat
serious. She just chuckles at his hardship, causing him to
frown.

He asks, “Are you warm enough?”

“Not really,” Sam sort of fibs. “Can I
snuggle closer?”

Simon’s dark blue gaze jumps to hers. She can
see his eyes clearly, even with the faint light from the
heater.

“Uh, sure,” he stammers.

Sam closes in on him, pressing herself
against his side. She tries not to hear his huff of indignant
protestation.

“This is better,” she confesses gaily. “I
think I can finally sleep now.”

“That makes one of us,” Simon mumbles.

Sam
chuckles
at him. She leans up and says in an
austere voice, “Don’t try any funny business, Mister.”

He physically startles and says as if
affronted by the insinuation, “I wouldn’t, Sam!”

Sam laughs loudly this time, without worrying
about anyone hearing her. “I know, silly. Trust me. I know.”

“Oh, I thought you were serious.”

“No, of course I wasn’t. If I was being
serious, I would’ve warned you against
me
making a move.”

“Wh…what?” he croaks, his voice a little
higher in pitch.

Sam chuckles again and says, “Goodnight,
Simon.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Paige

She is following right on Cory’s heels as
they weave through buildings and come to a garden area complete
with brick patios, a fountain, marble statues- two of which have
been knocked over- multiple gazebos, and sidewalks. He approaches
an ornate old mansion cautiously, going slowly and checking every
dark passageway. Paige hasn’t seen a single light on anywhere in
the city since the sun fell over an hour ago. She’s froze to the
bone. The rain from earlier turned to freezing rain and now snow.
God, she misses Arizona something fierce.

“We’ll stay here tonight. There are bound to
be fireplaces with chimneys. We’ll have heat soon. Stay with me,”
he orders quietly.

Paige might just follow him through the gates
of Hell if there is heat waiting there. They passed a lumber yard
about three blocks earlier, which they’d scoped out. He’d located
quite a few bundles of chain-link fencing that he says him and
Simon can soon return to the city with the truck to retrieve for
use on the wall in town.

Cory steps over a plaque of some kind
that has been knocked to the ground or fell on its own. It
reads
Belmont Mansion
, and
contains a brief description of the home and its historical roots
to the city carved into the wooden face of it. The grand
home
is connected on either side by
wings of the college that shares the same name. Intricate wrought
iron works encase the second floor balconies like one would see in
the architecture in the New Orleans French quarter. Carved white
pillars stand before the front doors. Not bothering with any sort
of sneaky tactical maneuver, Cory leads her right up the front
steps of the stately home. The door is already cracked open, so
they let themselves inside.

“Why don’t you wait here? Guard the front
door for me. I’ll check it out real quick and be right back,” he
says.

Paige would like to argue but doesn’t. Her
teeth are rattling too hard to utter a protest. She closes the
front door and locks it. Cory touches her arm reassuringly, nods,
and disappears down the hall. Outside, the wind has turned from a
soft whisper to a downright howl of anger. She tries not to
shiver.

After a few moments, she can hear him
moving around upstairs. She’s assuming they are safe and the only
occupants of the manor because nobody has shot at them. In this old
place, she’s more concerned about the Belmont Mansion ghosts coming
at them. Also, Cory hasn’t come through the floor above her having
fallen into someone’s devious trap. That’s also a good sign. She
strolls over to one of the leaded windows facing the front grounds
and glances out. Paige still can’t believe she almost died today.
She also can’t believe she was fooled by someone’s amateurish
trickery. Falling through that floor had to have taken years off
her life. She still can’t imagine how her brother would’ve
taken
the news that she’d fallen to her
death. The thought sends another shiver through her.

She also can’t fathom how Cory was able to
pull her to safety with a man on his back and with one arm to boot.
There was no way she could’ve pulled herself up again. Her arms
were exhausted just trying to hold onto that flimsy wiring hanging
down out of the ceiling. Cory’s raw strength saved her. One of the
things she likes to give him a hard time about is being a brute.
This time, it saved her. She has no idea how he’s still full of
energy running around the city after pulling her to safety and then
being stabbed. She’s been scared in her life, terrified, especially
since the fall of the country. But seeing that man slice his knife
across Cory’s stomach scared the shit out of her. Paige’s hands
begin to tremble as she thinks back on it. She braces herself
against a complete meltdown by holding onto an antique
sideboard.

Remembering crawling to safety only to
turn around and find him engaged in a fight for his own life after
saving hers was also heart-stopping. She’d scrambled to find her
gun, remembered that it
fell,
and
crawled on all fours over to collect his rifle in the corner. By
the time she realized what was happening, it was over. The man had
promised to rape her when he was done with Cory, and it seemed to
set off a violent trigger
within
him. The fight had felt like it was going in the man’s favor.
He’d even managed to slice his knife across Cory’s stomach. But
when the man exposed his plan in its entirety, Cory had gone mad.
She could barely even follow what was going on, it happened so
fast. He’d taken the man’s knife and killed him with it. Paige has
never seen anything like that before. Her friend Gavin had shot the
men who’d attacked her and Talia. She’s shot and killed men from
afar. She’s seen others do it. But she’s never watched the life
leave their eyes up close, never seen a man stabbed to death and
thrown down four flights through a hole.

He saved her life, and now she’s indebted to
him for it, which isn’t exactly a place she wants to be. But she’s
still breathing because of Cory. He hadn’t given up trying to save
her, even when the man jumped on his back. He could’ve been killed.
The man could’ve cut his throat or stabbed him in the back. Cory
was barely phased by it. He’d simply kept his eyes on hers and
persisted in reassuring her it would all be okay. His tenacity is
like nothing she’s ever witnessed. She’d completely misjudged him.
He’d placed her safety and her life above his, and it says
something about the kind of man he is.

Cory’s deep voice startles her from her
thoughts, “We’re clear. There isn’t anyone around.”

“Good. I’m too tired to keep going,” Paige
admits.

The beam of his flashlight sprays around the
room.

“I’ve locked and secured the doors and
windows- what’s left of them- on the first and second floors. I
kind of figured you were tired. I also locked the two doors that
connect to the college on either end of this floor. I don’t think
anyone’s around over there in the school, though. School’s out
forever, if you know what I mean. Let’s go upstairs.”

He turns to ascend the grand, curved
staircase coated in four years’ worth of dust. The risers are
covered with fading red carpeting down the center. The
ancient
treads
groan under his
weight. They hole up in a room with unbroken windows and a sizable
fireplace, likely the master bedroom.

“There’s another floor up, but it’s just some
sort of observatory or something. This is the only room left with a
bed,” he explains patiently.

Cory opens the chimney flue and gets to work
on lighting a fire.

“I’ll be back. Get our candles out and light
them. We don’t want our flashlight batteries to go dead,” Cory
instructs, busy as ever, not stopping to wait for her.

“Where are you going?” Paige asks
nervously.

“To find some wood to burn,” he answers at
the door. “Just get changed while I’m gone. Then we’ll eat and turn
in for the night.”

“All right,” Paige answers with a frown. Even
though the idea of him leaving for even a moment frightens her, she
relishes the idea that she could be wearing dry clothing and eating
hot food soon.

Paige drops her pack on the massive
antique bed, relieved to have it off her tired back. Next, she digs
out her two candles. She carefully lights them and places them on
the fireplace mantle. It’s just enough light to see to change out
of her wet clothes. The ornate, Greek wallpapering with gods and
goddesses and wildlife stares back at her. Some of it hangs in
tatters. All of the remaining furniture seems
heavy
and older than dirt. She used to love touring
historical homes like this. The trompe l’oeil faux painting where
the wall meets the ceiling is lovely and typical of the Victorian
period. The chocolate marble fireplace surround and mantle would’ve
been a luxury even then. The woman who owned this mansion had good
taste. Paige smiles to herself.

First she strips down to her bare skin,
prays he doesn’t walk in on her, and pulls on clean underclothing
including a fresh t-shirt and the thermal socks she’d acquired
earlier. She tugs on the rest of her new clothing from Dick’s
Sporting Goods. Finally she has a pair of pants that fit correctly
and don’t resemble dorky flood pants that barely reach her ankles.
The thermal shirt over her t-shirt adds an extra layer of warmth.
She places her new gym shoes, which are soaked through, near the
fireplace to dry out. Then she
laces
her new hiking boots and sets them near the bed. She has two
pairs of new shoes thanks to him. It’s not something to take for
granted. This is also something for which she’s grateful to
Cory.

Cory comes back into the room with
chunks of wood, some of which looks like it came from furniture.
Some of it is actual cut logs like they use
on
the farm. She hopes he didn’t destroy any of the
magnificent, historical furniture in this stately old home, even if
tourists will never visit it again. He drops the wood onto the
floor and yanks the ornate steel grate away from the front of the
fireplace. He noisily tosses it away so that he can stack the wood
inside. He’s apparently not too concerned with noise. Of course,
after today Paige isn’t thinking there is anything more lethal, man
or beast, in the entire city of Nashville than Cory.