Titan Fall - Book 18 of the Damned of the 2/19th

Stormy Night

"Get me a treat," Heather said, standing up on her tiptoes and hugging my father. He grinned down at her, hugging her back, then stepped back.

"Treat for Heather, smokes for her boy, what's on the list, and a surprise for mother," My father said, smiling at everyone.

"Can I go, daddy?" Megan asked, looking up from her Scrabble tiles.

My father laughed, shaking his head. "It's after eight, you'll need to get ready for bed soon, sweety." Megan pouted a little.

"Take your coat, Tiernan," my mother said, lifting Cathy off of her lap and setting her on her feet. "Hair's all brushed, sweetling, go get your pajamas on," My mother said.

My father just grinned at her, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on. He grabbed his old Stetson, the keys, and opened the front door, waving before he went out the frontroom door and into the rain. I could see him in passing headlights as he put the Stetson on and walked toward the Pinto he and I had been working on since I'd been tossed unceremoniously from the military.

I went back to leaning on the counter and watching everyone play Scrabble. Missy was behind by over a hundred points, and Heather had to keep being reminded that acronyms weren't allowed, leaving my mother ahead of everyone. I wasn't interested in playing, more spending time staring out the window at the October rain and wrestling with my thoughts.

Working at the factory kept me busy, but I missed the military in strange ways.

Behind me I could hear the rain had stopped, the steady hiss of the wind driven droplets being driven against the glass vanishing as thunder rumbled off in the instance. The lizard sleepily informed me that the storm was moving North, toward Olympia.

The lights flickered as the girls kept playing Scrabble.

"Anthony?" My mother's voice pulled me out of dark memories of watching the rain lash the windshield of the Gypsy Wagon during the Air War in the Persian Gulf.

"Yes, Momma?" I asked, looking up. I'd been staring at the tile floor.

"Go get some more wood and stoke up the fire, please," She said.

I glanced out at the clock, noting it was twenty-one-fifteen. My brain corrected it. 9:15 PM. I wasn't a soldier any longer. I didn't need to use military time.

My boots thudded in the hallways as I walked toward the back porch door, not bothering to turn on the light. Even with one eye I still had good night vision and could see clearly in the dim light. One of the doors was slightly ajar and I peeked inside, my hand on the door knob.

One of the new children, Kelly, saw me and made a small noise of fear, ducking down in the blankets. The others were all asleep, but Kelly had only been in the house for two weeks, dropped off by the Sheriff at 2AM after her parents had been killed in a drive-by shooting in Olympia. She was only supposed to be in the house until family members could be located or the State could find a foster home for her. I could remember how hard it was to sleep in a strange house, and I opened the door slowly.

"Are you OK, Kelly?" I asked, moving slowly and carefully over to the bed and kneeling down, imitating what I'd seen my father do for numerous small children.

Including one with a broken arm and a bashed in face.

"I'm scared," The little girl said, peeking out from under the covers.

"I understand," I said, nodding.

"You do?" She sounded like I was lying to her.

Again, I nodded. "When I was little, I came to live with Tiernan. I had been hurt, and the police took me from the hospital, with a cast on my arm, to live with Tiernan."