Unending Havoc: Montana Mayhem Book 1 | America's New Apocalypse by Millie Copper

Author:Millie Copper [Copper, Millie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CU Publishing LLC
Published: 2021-09-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

It’s dawn before the entire gang is back together. Rey and his daughter Nicole followed the tracks backwards. They found an empty camp suggesting it was just the six who attempted the attack. Scruff and his team, along with PJ and the twins, kept watch outside after checking in with us.

While the youngest children slept in the wagon, the rest of us took turns napping on the hard concrete or leaning against the wall of the garage. Staying together in the smoke-free garage made more sense than moving into the house.

Our limited medical kit contained disinfectant, gauze, and bandages, allowing Kimba to do a decent job wrapping Donnie’s hand. I was surprised to discover we were supplied with a small number of painkillers, a scarcity in today’s world. While most are over-the-counter mild analgesics, there’s six narcotic tablets. Kimba gave him two of the OTCs and one of the heavy hitters in hopes of providing some relief from the gaping wound.

The goose and rabbit carcasses, which stewed for several hours before being moved to the wagon as we prepared our emergency getaway, are warmed up outside on a couple of the small camp stoves. Leanne takes it upon herself to feed Donnie. Watching her with him surprises me. As gruff as she usually is with him and the rest of us, she seems to be almost fretting over him.

Unfortunately, her kindness doesn’t extend past Donnie. When I ask her how he’s doing, she snaps, “How do you think?”

I lift a hand and, in my snottiest voice, say, “Excuse me for asking.”

“There’s no excuse for you,” she mutters before scurrying away.

Yep. Loathsome Leanne. But not just loathsome, the way she switches from almost nice—never truly nice, but somewhat at least—to cruel in an instant is almost some kind of mental illness or something. I mean, really, who does that? Who’s normal one second and downright nasty the next? Maybe I should call her Leanne the Lunatic.

“What’s the plan?” Scruff asks as we put the food away. Although we ate most of the meat, we’ll save the bones to boil out the marrow and as much nutrition as possible from our porridge pot.

“We’re a little over halfway to Belfry,” PJ says. “Yesterday, after seeing those folks at the state line, we made excellent time and are about three miles farther than we had planned. If we push hard, we can make it to Belfry before dark.”

“We’re operating on little sleep,” Rochelle says. “I’m not sure how hard we can push.”

“True,” Kimba says. “But we need to get someone with real medical knowledge to take a look at that hand.”

“I’m fine,” Donnie says from his bed on the floor. “I’ll probably never make a real fist again, but I’ll manage.”

“Are you right-handed,” I ask, motioning to his bandaged left hand.

“Yep. At least that’s the upside.” His voice is heavy and thick.

“Still,” Kimba says, “it’d be best for someone to look at it.”

“Do you think the people we saw yesterday are the same ones who attacked us?” Rochelle asks.

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