One Second After

He got to the car, Washington and the two boys standing by it. Jeremiah handed the Glock back to John.

“It’s cleared and empty, sir. Tom gave me a fresh clip; you’ll find it in your glove compartment.”

Washington took the AR-15 and the two shotguns out of the vehicle.

“We’ll walk back to campus, sir. Why don’t you just go home?”

Phil stepped around and opened the door for Makala, who got in.

John looked back to the blood-splattered wall and then, almost ironically, fifty yards beyond it, the flagpole and the flag floating atop it. The sky beyond it was darkening. A late afternoon thunderstorm building.

He thought of Jeremiah’s question and wondered. Can we still keep this as America? Are we still America?

* * *

As he drove home he did not say a word.

“Vomited, didn’t you?” she finally said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.”

“I thought you were a soldier.”

“I am.… I mean I was. Not many soldiers, though, are trigger pullers. I was in Desert Storm, exec for a battalion with the First Cav. Saw fighting from a distance, but never actually pulled a trigger. Most of the time I was just hunched over a computer screen trying to direct the action.”

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” Makala replied. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. It’s just the way you handled that guy in the drugstore the other day. You struck me as someone who had seen combat before.”

“No.”

“It’s all right. I still get queasy at times during an operation. I damn near died when I walked into that nursing home last evening.”

“Thanks for doing that.”

“My job now, I guess.” The conversation died away.

They pulled into the driveway. The two fools Ginger and Zach came running up, and at the sight of a stranger they showed typical golden retriever loyalty and went running straight to her, ignoring John.

She laughed, scratching their ears as they jumped up to lick her, both starting to bark as they danced around her. John headed for the door where Jen stood.

“Thank God you’re home,” Jen said. “What happened? I’ve been worried sick all day about you.”

“Went to Asheville like I told you.”

She looked past John to Makala, who was coming up, the dogs trailing beside her. Jen’s eyes widened slightly and John could sense she was not pleased, that this woman was an invader in her territory.

“Mom, I’d like you to meet Makala Turner. Makala, this is my mother-in-law, Jennifer Dobson.”

The two nodded and shook hands.

“Mom, you might recall Makala; she was the woman on the road the first evening.”

“Oh, oh yes. My dear, I didn’t recognize you, given how you are dressed now.”

“She’s a nurse, Mom. Head RN with a surgical unit, actually. She came here to check on Tyler, Jennifer, and this.” He held up his hand. Jen’s talons retracted and there was a smile. “Oh, come on in, dear.”

“How is Tyler?” John asked.

“Resting comfortably,” she said quietly.

“The girls?”

“Jennifer’s taking a nap. Her sugar level was up and she just took a shot. Elizabeth is out for a walk with Ben.”

“Fine.”

John walked into his office and left the two women, who went straight to what was now Tyler’s sickroom.

John took the Glock out from his belt, looked at it, then laid it on his desk. He noticed now that the smell of cordite hung heavy on it, and on him.

Reaching around to the back corner of the desk, he pulled out a dust-covered bottle. There had been several times in his life when drinking had damn near won out, the last time for several weeks after Mary died. The dust on the bottle was a reassurance. He poured a double scotch out into an empty coffee cup and drained it down in two gulps.

The thunderstorm that had been on the western horizon rolled in, rain slashing against the window… a soothing sound.

When Makala came into the room a half hour later to check his hand, he was fast asleep.

CHAPTER SIX

DAY 10

“John, you look like crap warmed over.”

He nodded, walking into the conference room for what had now become their daily meeting.

“Thanks, Tom. I needed that.”

In spite of Makala’s attention, John’s hand was still infected and he was running a fever of just over a hundred and a half.

He settled into what was now his chair at the middle of the table. Interesting how quickly habits form regarding a meeting: sit in a chair once and the following day that’s where you sit again, symbolism of who sits at the foot and head of the table the same. Kate still held that symbolic position at the head, but it was actually Charlie now, sitting to her right, who ran the morning briefing, Tom at the foot of the table. Doc Kellor had become part of the team as well, sitting across from John. Two more were present, he didn’t recognize either, one dressed in a police uniform, a Swannanoa Police Department patch stitched on his sleeve, the second man in jeans and T-shirt, both in their midforties.

John picked up the cup of coffee that was waiting for him with his left hand.

“Let me look at that,” Kellor said, getting out of his chair and coming around the table.

He eased back the surgical gauze that Makala had redressed the wound with the evening before.