The McClane Apocalypse: Book One (41 page)

“Hannah, you’re blushing!” Sue exclaims

“I think Kelly’s had a lot more experience with this kissing business,” Hannah confides. Sue laughs out loud at this. Hannah playfully swats her sister’s leg.

“I’d venture to say that he does, Hannie. Not everyone is like us, silly girl,” Sue tells her. “So you kissed him. That’s a lot of progress for not being sure if he likes you.”

“That’s what I thought, too, but then he got weird,” Hannah explains.

“What do you mean?”

“He got mean and nasty again. He’s so... argh... frustrating!” Hannah growls.

“Yep, sounds about right to me. Honey, he just likes you and for some reason he’s holding back. You’ll just have to work on figuring out why,” Sue tells her. It’s times like this that Hannah’s glad she doesn’t have a bunch of brothers. They would have been completely useless.

“I don’t understand him. One minute we’re kissing and it’s... very nice and the next minute he’s back to being a crazy man. That’s why I called him that. ‘Cuz he is!” Hannah says with frustrated anger and a soft growl.

Sue pats her leg and laughs. “Welcome to the world of men and women and relationships, little sister.”

Hannah growls rather effectively again. It feels good to get a little angry. It’s not something she’s used to.

“Hannah?” Grams calls from the door. “Do you want to help with dinner?” A baby’s tiny cry comes from the door.

“Uh-oh, looks like someone’s awake,” Sue says as Grams comes onto the porch with Isaac. He’s a real squawker when he wants to be.

“Sure thing, Grams. I’m ready to get back into my kitchen,” Hannah says as she rises.

“We’ll talk more later, Hannie,” Sue promises and they all go into the kitchen through the screen door.

As everyone sits down for the family dinner after chores later that evening, Hannah, Sue and Grams bring out the platters full of food. Even the children jump in and help, carrying bread baskets, salad and pitchers of milk. When Hannah takes her seat beside Kelly, he avoids all contact with her. Grandpa says grace and the meal commences as normal. Kelly doesn’t even hold her hand for the prayer.

“We were able to make that part for the tractor, after all. We’ll still need the part from the city for the other one, but Cory seems to be quite handy in the mechanic’s department,” Grandpa says. They all pass food, chatter about the day’s progress and go on about their business as usual. Hannah doesn’t however. She pushes food around on her plate with little interest.

“That’s great, Cory. Just wonderful!” Grams adds in cheerfully as if Cory just got an A+ on a Math test.

“We’ll rotate the cows tomorrow to the north pasture,” Derek says.

“Eat your food,” comes a quiet murmur beside her. Kelly’s voice startles her.

“Mind your own business,” she whispers hotly. She’s not sure, but she thinks he snarls under his breath.

“And then we’ll replace the shingles on the bad side of the chicken coop with that metal sheeting in the storage shed,” John adds helpfully. All the planning. All they ever do is plan.

“I said eat...”

“Hannah? What was it that you told Kelly you were going to get someone else to show you?” Sue chirps up. What the heck, Sue? Hannah’s face flames.

“Uh... um,” Hannah stutters stupidly.

“You know, when you were both coming in from the barn? When Kelly was helping you back to the house?” Sue helps, but doesn’t. Hannah would like to choke her lovely sister.

“What? I’m not sure. I...”

“She wanted me to show her the kittens, but I was too busy, Sue,” Kelly says with deadly emphasis on her sister’s name. It was meant to be a warning. It works.

Sue laughs softly and the conversation resumes around the table.

“I actually have something I need to bring up if I might, sir,” John asks of Grandpa.

“Sure, John, what is it?” Grandpa asks.

“I’ve been talking with Derek and Kelly and I have a solution that will help around here for security. It doesn’t make sense for me to sleep in the basement. Derek has the south of the property covered at night from the second floor. If Cory moves to the far end of the second floor, he can cover the east side. And Kelly will stay in the basement with the kids in case something happens he’d be better adept at getting them all three moved in the middle of the night. And I’ll move into Reagan’s room right by the French doors to cover the north of the property and the driveway,” John explains to everyone.

“What? Are you freagin’ kidding me?” Reagan bursts out loudly. It sounds like she just spit out food.

“Calm down, Reagan,” Grandpa advises.

“No way. I’m not gonna calm down. This is bullshit. He’s not moving into my room!” she screeches and there is a clang of a dish or utensil, probably her doing. Hannah hopes that her sister doesn’t stab John with her fork.

“Reagan McClane, not at my dinner table,” Grams scolds with underlying, frightening menace.

“He’s not moving into my room!” she repeats at the same decibel, her voice cracking.

“Listen, boss. You can’t patrol that drive all night by yourself every single night. We’ve been doing it, too. But we have to prowl around the house and outside all night. We need to be able to do it from windows. And your room just has the best vantage point for the entire front of the property,” John thoroughly explains.

“No way,” Reagan threatens. Hannah is genuinely afraid for John.

“It’s either that or move into the music room, which wouldn’t exactly work for sleeping in the morning if I’m up doing watch in the middle of the night. Kelly usually milks at around five a.m. and I sleep till seven because of my watch schedule,” John explains logically.

“Reagan, he’s right,” Derek butts in. “You do have the best point of view for the entrance to the farm. We need to be on alert for anything that comes down that driveway.”

“Fine,
I’ll
do it. I’ve been doing it,” Reagan argues. She’s less menacing toward Derek. Slightly.

“I think Derek and John have a point, dear,” Grandpa volunteers. “You can’t cover the driveway all night every night. If what happened to the Reynolds could happen here, then we need to be absolutely covered from every spot on the farm.”

“You’re welcome to go and sleep in the equipment shed! That also has a good vantage point, you jerk,” she says sulkily. Nobody comments, so Kelly jumps in.

“Right, besides most of the time we’ll be outside working on the harvest and doing patrols. It will mostly be at nighttime that you’ll share the space,” Kelly adds. “But chances are, if anyone comes here, they’re coming down that drive to get in.”

“I said no! Does nobody at this table hear me? It’s my room,” Reagan argues, getting louder if it’s even possible. Her small raspy voice cracks again with indignant anger.

“I think every person at this table hears you just fine,” Sue berates.

“Shut up, Sue. Nobody’s asking you to share your room with a stranger,” Reagan argues a different angle.

“He’s not a stranger, Reagan. It’s John. He’s been here four months. And he’s only trying to help,” Grams tells her firmly. Once Grams gets involved in the discussion, no matter what discussion, it is soon over. Her opinion carries the most weight, and only Grandpa would ever dare to argue with her and even he doesn’t do it often because he’s very wise.

“This isn’t right, Grams,” Reagan resorts to a subtle whine. It’s over. Grams has finished it as usual.

The conversation turns to moving furniture, getting everyone’s new sleeping arrangements worked out and the schedule for night patrols.

“Cory should take first watch since he’s not as used to staying up really late. We’ll put him on until midnight. That way he gets enough sleep,” Kelly offers. “I’ll take second patrol here on the ground floor. I’ll patrol the whole house from every vantage point on this floor. Then I’ll go back downstairs with the kids.”

The men discuss who will take the next patrol while Reagan quietly fumes. Hannah can hear her sister toe tapping. She also mutters crudities against John from time to time, but Hannah is likely the only one who hears them.

Hannah is sick of Kelly’s indifference toward her, and she can’t take it another second. While everyone still talks, she slides her hand under the table and over onto his thigh. There, let him see how it feels to be tortured. He just about jumps out of his seat. It takes every ounce of Hannah’s self-control not to laugh out loud.

“Hannah,” he warns her with a whisper.

“Hm?” she inquires with fake innocence. She squeezes slightly. He chokes on his drink. This is quite entertaining. And what if she slides her hand north a tad? Within a half an inch of moving it, his large, warm hand covers hers.

The kids are getting louder, Sue is trying to keep them under control, and the men still talk. There’s plenty to distract the rest of the table from her nefarious deeds. She hears Kelly swallow hard and clear his voice.

“Stop it,” he hisses. He’s turned his head toward her and whispers almost in her hair.

“Stop what, Kelly? This?” she asks on a returned whisper.

“Right, dude?” John asks.

“Huh? Oh yeah, right,” Kelly agrees. Hannah seriously doubts he even heard the question. His thick thigh is hot under her hand. Heat is literally pouring through his jeans into her skin. The contact is having a negative effect on her, as well. She’d meant to punish him for his behavior earlier, but now she’s not so sure this isn’t also punishing herself.

The hand that covers hers strokes her with its thumb. Her breathing increases again. How can he do this to her with just a light touch? This is horrible. Her plan has backfired, and he is expertly seducing her with his thumb. It angers her anew and she snatches her hand back. Kelly chuckles.

“You play with fire, little girl, you’re bound to get burned,” he mocks into her ear.

“I’ll play with whatever I want to play with, Mr. Alexander,” she returns haughtily. It stuns him, causing him to choke again. Good. Let him think about that one.

When dinner is finished, everyone helps to clean it as usual. Their grandparents retire to Grandpa’s den as Sue and Derek take the kids to the music room, which now holds most of the children’s toys, as well.

“Auntie Hannah, will you play us a song?” Justin begs.

“Yeah, play, play!” Arianna joins in.

Hannah can’t resist their tiny voices or the small amount of joy she hears in them. They each grab one of her hands and take her to the music room with them. She’s surprised to hear John and Reagan are also in the room.

“Watcha’ reading, boss?” John is asking her.

“None of your business, asshole,” Reagan jabs. Oh boy, she’s in rare form over the bedroom thing.

“
Articulation and Phonological Disorders,
hm? Wow, sounds like a real page turner,” John jokes.

“I’m sure there are some old “Playboy’s” in the barn somewhere from my brother for you to study. I think they’re more your speed,” Reagan chides.

“Hm, maybe we’d better check into that huh, Kelly?” John teases. Kelly’s in here, too? Hannah had thought he’d gone outside after dinner. He doesn’t answer but gives an abbreviated snort.

“Play now. Play now, Auntie Hannah,” Ari begs.

“Ok, little one. What do you want to hear?” she asks her.

“Something pretty so I can dance,” she returns predictably.

Hannah takes her seat at the piano and raises the cover from the keys.

“Maybe Aunt Reagan will play the guitar to accompany the piano?” Hannah hints. She gets a snarl from Reagan in response.

“Come on, Reagan. Play with Hannah and sing. We haven’t heard you sing for so long,” Sue asks.

“I’m busy,” she snaps angrily.

“You sing, boss?” John asks kindly. His interest in Reagan is genuine and avid. He’s pretty easy to read.

“Fuck off, jerk,” she mutters under her breath. Her sister does not return his interest.

“Reagan!” Derek, Sue and Hannah all exclaim with irritation because the kids are present.

“I’ll play with you, Hannah,” John offers, and Hannah believes it is because he feels sorry for causing Reagan’s bad mood.

“Oh? I didn’t know you played. You play the guitar, John?” Sue asks.

“Guitar, piano, my M16. Yeah, our mom was a music teacher,” he explains.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. How come you don’t play, Derek?” Sue inquires of her husband who is cooing at Isaac.

“I never really had much interest. John’s the sissy boy of the family. He was always into music with mom. Momma’s boy,” Derek teases his brother.

“Yep, that’s me. Momma’s boy all the way,” John self-reprobates. “Momma’s boy that likes to blow up crap.” Derek and Kelly heartily agree and laugh loudly.

“Don’t feel bad, honey,” Sue says to Derek. “I never took to it, either. But I do like it when my
sisters
play and sing.”

“Lame,” Reagan scoffs.

“Yeah, but your art is amazing, Sue,” Derek praises her sister, and Hannah can tell that they kiss.

“Yes, it is, Sue. I’ve seen some of your work around the house and up in the boss’s bedroom, too,” John tells her oldest sister appraisingly.

“You’ll have plenty of time to study it real soon up there,” Derek teases, and Hannah hears her beloved brother-in-law grunt. Reagan has probably thrown something at him. He just laughs and so do the other men.

“Thanks, John, but I’m no professional,” Sue says.

“Looked professional to me,” he corrects her.

Hannah feels his weight descend beside her on the piano bench. He strums Reagan’s guitar a few times, makes sound adjustments to the strings and tells her he’s ready.

She chooses one of her grandfather’s favorite pieces from an old blues disc he listens to. The tones are haunting, beautiful and John finds the key quickly. He accompanies her perfectly and adds in six bar slides with his expert touch. He plays with soul-baring feeling, and Hannah can tell how rooted he is in music.

“Usually I do this with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth,” he jokes. “Kinda’ feel like I’m missing something.”

“You sound great to me,” Sue jumps in happily. “And you shouldn’t be smoking anyways. It’s bad for you in case you haven’t heard.”

“Yeah, I think I heard that once,” John laughs. He’s such an easy person to like. Well, unless you’re Reagan.