“You again?”
“At least you’re cleaned up this time,” said Kate. “How is your shoulder?” She reached out and gently touched his right arm.
“Which one?”
“The bad one. You’re lucky you didn’t get more than a grazing,” she said, standing behind him and pressing her body into his.
“Ryan bailed me out of that one. He did an amazing job out there. Everyone did.”
“What happened with Chloe? She doesn’t seem herself. She barely looked at Ryan all night.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Alex said, leaning backward into her. “She froze on the bridge. Complete lock down. Ryan was hit carrying her to the other side on his back. She’s a little embarrassed. That’s all.”
“She always seemed really sturdy. Nothing else happened?”
“Not that I’m aware of. She needs a little time and distance. We’ll need to make sure Ryan respects that.”
“And doesn’t feel like he did anything wrong,” she added. “Ed sounded like he might go for round two of the blame game. If he’s doing that right to your face, who knows what he’s saying to his kids behind closed doors?”
“Ed has a bad habit of second-guessing everyone’s decisions and input. It’s his quirk, and I’ve learned to work around it while keeping an ear open. He comes up with some good ideas. Ed functions best when he’s taking orders or making his own decisions. He saved my bacon again.”
“How many times did you need saving?”
“More than I’d care to admit. We’d be dead if it wasn’t for the marines. For Colonel Grady.”
“I didn’t mean to come down hard on you for that. I’m just nervous about the whole arrangement.”
“I’m a little nervous about it too. Ed’s hit the nail on the head,” said Alex.
“About what?”
“Being out of the pressure cooker long enough to think straight. Accepting Grady’s offer sounded pretty damn good with the city falling apart around us and a Boston militia unit chasing me down.”
“You pissed off more than one militia group?”
“Look who’s talking,” he said, drying his face with a towel.
“I guess we need to steer clear of any militia groups from now on,” said Kate, kissing his neck.
Alex turned around and put his hands on Kate’s lower back, pulling her into him while kissing her passionately. They grasped each other tightly, lowering their hands until Kate pulled back.
“There’s a line outside of the door,” she whispered into his ear.
“What?” he hissed. “Are you serious? And here I was thinking this might be the one place we could get some privacy.”
“We kissed privacy goodbye when we invited two families to join us.”
“Maybe they could all stay in the barn. They’d have a wood-burning stove.”
She squeezed his bottom. “Or we’ll just have to make better use of our 22 acres.”
“Not until those crazies are gone,” he said and kissed her. “See you up in our communal bedroom.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“I know.”
Chapter 30
EVENT +71:11
Limerick, Maine
Alex opened his eyes to pitch darkness. He lay on his back next to Kate, which was the extent of his situational awareness. A cool, pine-scented breeze poured over his face, providing the first clue. He gently worked his left hand from under Kate’s head, careful not to wake her up, and checked his watch. 4:11. His alarm had been set for 4:15. It took him a few seconds to figure out why. Shit. He could use about eight more hours of sleep—and some real painkillers. The ibuprofen had clearly worn off overnight.
He pushed his torso up with his left hand, finding himself sore along the left side of his body, extending through his abdomen. He felt like he had done a few hundred atomic sit-ups right before retiring for the night. For a moment, he seriously doubted his ability to get out of bed without help. He lay there, considering his next move, when the back of his right thigh cramped, locking him in position on the bed. He extended his leg and fought the muscle spasm for a few minutes, until he was sure it had passed.
Not a good start to the day.
Kate hadn’t moved throughout the ordeal, presenting Alex’s next challenge. How in the hell was he supposed to wake his wife up at 4:00 in the morning? She was a notoriously deep sleeper, barely functional until two cups of dark roast coursed through her system. He’d wait as long as possible before attempting to stir her.
Alex grabbed his flashlight from the nightstand and illuminated the room. Nobody shifted—of course. They had all inherited their mother’s morning gene. He walked around the bed, careful not to step on Emily, who lay in a sleeping bag between the full-size bed and the elevated air mattress supporting Ryan. The room had been reconfigured to accommodate a sandbag position facing the backyard. The bed, normally under the backyard window, had been pushed across the room against the opposite interior walls. They had done the same in all of the rooms, hastily rearranging couches, beds, end tables and chairs to free up space for sheet metal and sandbags. Ed was right. The house had been transformed into the Alamo.
The door cracked; Charlie Thornton poked his face through the opening.
“I couldn’t sleep either,” he said. “Brought some coffee for your wife. Linda said she’d need it.”
Alex stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind him, taking the hot mug in his hands. After a long sip, he patted Charlie on the shoulder.
“Thank you, Charlie.”
“It was Linda’s idea,” he said, reaching for the Walkers’ door.
“No,” he said, stopping Charlie. “Thank you for everything. I mean it.”
“That’s what friends do for each other, man.”
“Friends collect your mail while you’re away on vacation. You’ve redefined my concept of the word. It’s not a word I’ll use lightly again. Thank you.”
“Dude, you’re evoking man tears, which means—”
“No. We are not going to—”
“It’s time for that hug,” he said, embracing Alex.
Alex held the coffee mug away and let it happen. Charlie had been angling for this “man hug” since he arrived at the reservation with the battalion’s armed escort, and Alex had deprived him long enough, artfully dodging his outstretched arms.
“When the two of you are done hugging, I’d appreciate it if you started waking people up,” said Linda from the bottom of the stairs.
“He started it,” said Charlie.
“Thanks for the coffee. See you in a few,” said Alex.
Twenty minutes later, everyone was in position, scattered throughout the dark house with coffee. Alex found himself back in his bedroom, facing the forest behind their house. He’d moved Ryan onto the bed and given Emily the air mattress, sliding it against the bed to make room in front of the sandbags for a folding chair. Through the open window, he scanned the length of the tree line with his night vision goggles, catching the occasional flicker of a lightning bug. Linda had a similar view on one of the computer monitors in the dining room, but the surveillance cameras couldn’t penetrate the forest like his generation IV gear. He could detect a smoldering cigarette or the glow of a night vision scope eyepiece deep in the trees.
Kate watched the open expanse of land in front of the house through one of Alex’s old night vision spotting scopes, a Russian knock-off with 2X magnification and an infrared illuminator. With nearly one hundred fifty feet of clearing separating the southern tree line from the house, a diligent watch through the scope could pick up any unusual activity. Their concern with the southern approach extended to the buckwheat and oat fields, which could be used by intruders to close the distance undetected.