Page 71 of Night of the Living Manny
His job—hell, his calling—was to give these babies stability and keep them safe until their father came home. He loved Liam, and these kids were part of the man. Strong, stubborn, and loving.
“I want to go home, Brenden. I want my daddy.”
“I know, but Moose needs you. He can’t feed himself.”
“Okay.” She wiped her nose, then got up off the couch. “Come on, Moosey. I’ll open your can for you.”
“You okay, Peter? Your sister made sandwiches and chips.”
“’M okay. Just mad. You promise he’s not dead?”
“I swear. They wanted him to help, to do what he was doing here on a big scale.”
“Yeah. He’s a good scientist. He wants to fix this.”
“He is. He wanted you to be here and safe, though, so no one could use you against him.” He patted Pete on the back.
“Yeah, he’s such a dad.” Peter just looked so miserable.
“He totally is. Wash up, you two.” He got carrots out too, because they needed veg.
“Moosey is eating. He thinks he’s starving.”
“He always has, but he’s a stress eater too. Did you wash your hands?” These were normal things, things he asked every day. Every little thing settled him, made it easier.
“Uh-uh. Not yet. I will.”
“Well, Susanna made supper, so come on.” He rubbed Moose’s ears before leading the kids to the sink. He probably needed to wash too.
“Are we ever going to eat hamburgers and french fries again?” she asked.
“Yes. I believe that with my whole heart.” Hell, the big military installations still had freezers, right? And as far as he knew, this virus didn’t affect animals. He hoped there were no zombie cows, anyway. Because, dude. That made him dizzy just to think about. They could have french fries, though. They could manage that.
He could even make them for tomorrow, because they had potatoes in the root storage bins.
He got them all fed, checked to make sure Susanna hadn’t run away, took out Moose, and then cuddled up on the couch with Britt and Peter.
They watched a movie on Peter’s tablet, and by the time it was over, Britt was sound asleep and Peter was dozing.
“Did you want to sleep in here again?” he asked Peter in a whisper. “I need to go to the basement for a bit.”
“I’ll stay with Britt.”
“Thanks, bud. Holler if you need me.” When Moose came with him, he allowed it, knowing his boy needed to spend time with him. He would kick Moose out before he started testing samples, if he could even figure out how.
When he got downstairs, he found notes in Liam’s tiny, particular handwriting. Pages of notes. How to test the samples. Where to go if they weren’t safe here. How to contact his handler. How to administer the antidote.
Wow. Okay. He could do this. Except he’d left the sample in the car. He’d wrapped it, but he needed to sterilize that too.
“Come on, Moose. Back up, buddy.” God, he was tired. He told himself he had to clean up and get the blood in the fridge, at the very least.
Okay. He dragged his ass up the stairs. As soon as he opened the door to the garage, Susanna was there, and both of them put on masks and gloves to clean the car inside and out.
“Thanks,” he told her, and he went back down to stabilize the sample. That was what Liam called it. He could test it after he slept a few hours. He wanted everything to happen now, but he also knew it could be disastrous if he made a mistake.
“God, Liam. What a nightmare. I’ve got the kids. I’m going to keep them safe.” He followed all the directions he could but headed back upstairs without running the test. He could barely see now that the adrenaline was over. He was too tired. He curled up on the recliner, and Moose hopped up in his lap.
“Hey, buddy. I got you. You’re okay.” He scrubbed his hands through the heavy fur. “I need to brush you.”
