by Angela White
Adrian climbed under the broken fence, moving steadily through the sand he’d already had two boys rake and clear of debris, thinking the dust storm would be the burial for those who wouldn’t otherwise get one.
“Game?”
Kenn shrugged, still a bit disappointed Adrian hadn’t said anything about him sending Doug to the medical tent. “If you like.”
Adrian dug through the dusty, but otherwise untouched box of sports equipment that they’d put out this morning, and came up with a football. “Go long.”
Kenn immediately took off running, and the blond threw the ball high and hard, hoping to draw some interest from his sheep. These games were good for them, but hard to get started. Most of the refugees kept to themselves as they dealt with their grief, and Adrian scheduled regular times for things like this, knowing they needed it as part of their recovery.
Kenn hurled the ball with a hard spin that made Adrian pay attention, and for the next few minutes, he left the heaviness of leadership on the sidelines and lost himself in having fun. The passes were hard and long, punishing catches, and it was the echo of their laughter and taunts that drew people.
A small crowd slowly gathered, and when there was enough for teams, Adrian moved toward them. “Game anyone?”
He and Kenn were the quarterbacks, and it got rough from the start. The Marine, who still sometimes struggled to hide his true nature, slammed his way through three other players, knocking them back to run by for a score.
“If you bleed, you’re out. Eagle Two’s team has six. Our turn.”
Adrian’s team let out a shout of approval and the game became an outlet for them as they tripped, shoved, elbowed, and harassed each other. Sweating, shirts coming off, they drew in more of the camp’s people who were very sensitive to noises now. When Adrian looked up, nearly 50 people were watching, with about half waiting to play.
“Time out!”
Adrian waved Kenn over as he headed for the sidelines, the stiff wind cooling his sweaty skin. “Pick your replacement. We’ve got a level test to give.”
Adrian threw the ball to Zack, knowing it would please Kenn. “Take my place, will ya? I’ve been knocked down enough.”
Everyone was laughing as the two men left. The leader had been tripped and hurried, but hadn’t hit the ground even once due to great protection, deft footwork, and respect.
The game went on behind them, and both men were pleased, Kenn mostly because his side had been up by twelve when they stopped.
“Gather the Level Ones, Seth too. Send ‘em to that barn half a mile back and have them put on the vests. Neil is their supervisor, but not their leader. We'll find out who that is today. Their mission begins with securing a 200 foot perimeter and staying out of sight. If anyone sees them leave, they fail. Meet me at the house next to the barn in half an hour.”
Kenn nodded eagerly, hoping the Boss would like his plan, and handed him the paper as he left. It was his first attempt at tests like these, though he had worked with the Man, before the War. Nobody had been better than Brady at high-casualty ambushes.
Adrian gave it a quick look, then put it away, heading for his tent. In and out, he was in the parking area a few minutes later talking to Daryl, the only Level Three Eagle not out of camp with Kyle.
“Anyone come in?”
The tall, thin football coach shook his head. “No, it’s all quiet.”
Adrian sighed, not showing his disappointment. The help he needed wasn’t coming today. “Kenn will be by for the paperwork. That’s his job now. When’s Kyle due?”
Smothering a frown, Daryl checked his watch, “Little over an hour.”
“Great. Let’s give them a call. Message is to put on the vests and pay attention before reaching camp. Mission objective, shake my hand to pass to Level Four status.”
Daryl grinned and keyed his headset, one of a dozen Kenn had finished this week. “Base to Eagle Four.”
There was only a few seconds of silence, then Kyle’s calm voice, “This is Four, base - go ahead.”
“I’ve been instructed to tell you to put on the noisemakers and look alive before you hit camp. Copy?”
“Copy. What is the mission objective?”
“Physical contact with Eagle One.”
“Copy. Four out.”
Daryl took a quick look around the dusty landscape before turning back to Adrian. “Can I help?”
“Absolutely. You’re the instructor and then the hostage. The barn half a mile back. The rookies are headed there now. Go now and...entertain them - the way I did at your first test.”
Daryl grinned at the memory and the responsibility he’d just been given, and Adrian slipped into his truck as the guard left. The leader changed clothes, made contact with the next shift coming on, then snuck away to play with his army.
8
All the guards entered camp the way they’d left, Adrian and Kenn following more slowly behind.
“No one asked any questions. Big mistake. Seth’s team got lucky to win.”
Kenn was eager to help another of his picks. Zack was about to graduate to a Level One Eagle and had Kenn to thank for his name even being on the list. Now, all the truck driver had to do was live up to it. There would be no slacking off allowed. “True, that. Seth sure surprised ‘em all.”
Adrian lit a smoke. “Yes, he did. Give him a level test tonight. If he makes it, bump him up to Level Four and we’ll catch him up. I always thought that team should have been ten strong, just didn’t know who went there. Do it after dinner.”
Kenn didn’t look up from writing, glad for the redhead and hating the jealous part of him that wanted to say he’d done well with Doug, ask for his reward.
“So who’s our MC tonight?”
Kenn gave a tight smile, tone even, “Doug said he’d give that to you at Mess.”
Adrian met his eye, feeling his man’s need, meeting it. “That’s your job now. Once an evening you’ll do rounds and collect envelopes. Organize it into something I can read quickly.”
Kenn kept his head down again, realizing he was being rewarded, and his heart eased. “Sure. That’s it for the list. See you at Mess?”
“You know it.”
Their radios crackled to life. “Mitch to Eagle One. Just took a call, A-Man.”
Adrian’s heart thumped, and he and Kenn exchanged a look. The drunk’s tone wasn’t encouraging.
“Still on the air?”
“No, low battery. Said they’d call back.”
“Copy.”
Kenn stayed at Adrian’s side as they headed to the COM truck, where Kyle had just taken up his post on watch. The cabin reeked of whiskey and Mitch rewound the tape without saying as much as usual, able to feel Adrian's disapproval.
“This one sounds legit to me, but I just roll your waves.”
Adrian had to force himself not to frown. Mitch Hopkins was one hell of a radio man, but he was still too often just loud, crude, arrogant, and intoxicated. All things Adrian and the camp had little tolerance for because it reminded them too much of what had been wrong with the old world when it had fallen. “Play.”
The fat-faced man nodded, green eyes smiling at all the people watching, seeing him with the Boss.
“This is Safe Haven. We are a convoy of American Red Cross survivors who will help if we can no matter your age, race, location, or injuries. Does anyone copy?”
There was silence after Mitch’s loud voice, and Adrian could feel the alcoholic fingering the button, wanting to move on and be done with this round of calls. Then, there was a pause when Mitch had known instinctively that an answer was coming, and waited instead of garbling the transmission. Definitely one of the best before, and despite his glaring flaws, probably was the best now.
“SOS, Safe Haven! Need a military escort to the nearest compound! Will pay any price!”
The words were surprisingly clear considering the awful clamor of background noise and static, and Adrian liked Mitch’s answer.
“Americans h
elp first and ask questions later. Stand by while I get the Boss.”
“Can’t. Battery’s dyin’. There must be some place taking in refugees.”
The ex-dispatcher’s voice was quick, pointed, “Yeah, us.”
“But if you’re Red Cross, who do you get your orders from? Where are they?”
“Those aren’t questions for me. I just work the radio. What’s your situation?”
“Bad. People are hurt, sick. Supplies are gone, food’s real low. Where are you? Close?”
“That’s another one I won’t answer on open waves. You need to talk to the boss. Call back and we’ll get him quick, but for now, what’s your message?”
There was a long pause and then there came a tired voice full of despair that made Adrian’s heart demand action.
“I’m overloaded. I can’t describe it. We need protection, a way out to someplace safe. Tell him we’re American citizens begging for his…”
The transmission ended suddenly, and Mitch shut off the tape. “Figured they went dead.”
Adrian looked at the waiting alcoholic. “You did a great job. Get me right away when he calls back.
Red nose swelled, Mitch was all shit-eating grin at the praise. “You got it, A-Man. Catch you later?”
Adrian forced himself to nod and was glad to leave the drunk behind.
Kenn and Adrian went to his semi (always in the lead) and the leader climbed behind the wheel, leaving the door open. Time was running out, he could feel it threatening what he held dear, and yet, he couldn’t ignore the call.
He motioned at the glove compartment, at the maps crammed inside. “Find out how far to Cheyenne and what’s between here and there.”
Kenn got to work as Adrian picked up the mic, knowing the leader was hoping for a reason to get the camp behind a rescue.
“Let’s do a count, Mitch. Eagle One, all clear.”
The count-off always took a while, people forgetting or going in the wrong order. Usually Adrian handled it, straightened them out, but today he let it go, waiting.
After a full minute of not getting by thirteen, Mitch took control, knowing Adrian wanted the radio clear, and again, he pleased the Boss.
“Fourteen, ready.”
“Okay Fourteen, but Thirteen goes first. Thirteen, you ready?”
“Roger that.”
“Good. We know fourteen is ready, so let’s move on.”
“Rogetssscccfourteenssch,”
Mitch’s voice boomed over the radio. “Fourteen! Put your mic down! Hang it up now!”
“Roger.”
The two men shared a grin, as the check continued more smoothly, everyone knowing Mitch had little patience, and now, Adrian's blessing to keep them in line.
“Three hundred miles. Laramie and Casper are the only big towns.” Kenn peered closer at the small writing. “Damn. There are only a couple of reservoirs. Not a good enough excuse to go.”
Adrian's cool eyes looked over the dusty Wyoming land around them, as Kenn got his notebook out, shaking his head at the radio.
“Come on Twenty! Why are you calling out of order?”
“Because I’ve got too many kids in my area!”
“Did you check the…” The radio went quiet for a moment as the guards straightened out the mix up.
“Your impression?”
Kenn’s voice was flat, “He said protection before food or water, like we might be walking into something and have to fight for them.”
“Are we able to do that now?”
Kenn shrugged, sounding more confident than he really felt. Marines, these people were not. Most were more like showers shoes – not even a boot camp graduate. “Maybe we could be. Kyle’s team might be now.”
“Just a simple plan, a team of a dozen,” Adrian said, leading him, and Kenn’s pen started moving, copying his own words as he too settled into the groove and gave Adrian exactly what he needed at that moment - signs of progress.
“We’d need to start more men as Eagles, snipers, a long-range communications system, and we would need to be running full-time gun classes…wish we could find ammo for the rifles, but we’ll make do.”
Adrian waited, wanting to see if Kenn would get the most important parts.
“Also need more tents and some practices for the camp, a drill of some kind.”
Kenn looked up suddenly. “Cheyenne’s close to the Slavers’ path, on 25. Will the camp go, with the base in Montana so close?”
Adrian looked out the dirty window, voice like stone, as Kenn spoke what he’d been thinking. Even his right-hand believed they were still going. He would take care of that at the next camp meeting. “All the Eagles will. The camp would feel extremely unprotected while we’re gone.”
Kenn said nothing at the threat, not doubting. Those words wouldn’t be used, but the message would be clear. Adrian was going, and those who were with him, would follow. The rest would have to fend for themselves, until - if - he came back for them. “When will they be told?”
“Right after the next call, but it’s best to start with little hints now. Have people ‘overhear’ the men say it’s our duty. If not for that, none of them would be safe right now. Remind them that Americans don’t turn away from doing what’s right, just because it’s hard.”
9
The sky was full of vivid shades of purple and green that were mesmerizing, and Adrian saw people taking long looks at the mysterious beauty as he headed to dinner. There was a large crowd in and around the Mess, most people talking of the shooting contest to come and of Kenn’s match-up with Doug.
There were still yells and groans from a late-running football game, garbage cans full of trash burning at the four corners of the camp, and two warmly-dressed women were playing their guitars softly around the large bonfire. It felt like early October as Adrian got his tray and headed for the already full middle table. The smell of salt came to him, bringing flashes of an angry sea, and he wondered where and how many they’d be come Fall.
The rookie guards were at a double table nearby, still congratulating and welcoming Seth, and the Level Threes were on the other side of the Boss’ table, looking glum, as they listened to the happy voices.
Doug and Neil sat across from Kenn, and when Adrian pushed his mostly finished tray aside, the others did too. “Mini meeting and we can skip it later.”
Notebooks and pens came out, and Adrian got busy, not lowering his voice. It was crucial to his plans that the camp thought they knew how he ran things. “Sitrep on your run.”
“We got everything on the lists, except gas. All the stations were dry or destroyed.”
“Alpine?”
“Just like all the rest. Nothing alive. We took pictures.”
“Okay. That’s it. Who’s ready to shoot something?”
The men laughed, the boasting loud, and Adrian saw Doug hand Kenn his envelope with an apologetic nod that he was glad to see the Marine accept casually, as if Doug hadn’t insulted him, when clearly he had. Things were looking up.
10
“All right, let’s get to it.” Bonfire warming his back, Adrian stood in front of two teams of men, his Army, and raised his bottle. “Rookies! Congratulations on passing!”
All the men cheered, one group much louder than the other, and they all drank together.
“You are now Level One Eagles. You boys get to choose your leader tonight and I’ll need a name before this meeting’s over.”
He raised his bottle again. “Level Three Eagles, congratulations on passing!”
There were a lot of surprised looks with the cheers and Adrian waved a hand at Kyle. “You made it past Kenn and while there were mistakes, you couldn’t have won anyway. Seth was the wild card that you can’t always be ready for. I consider it a success.”
Both groups cheered fully this time, drank, and Adrian held up a hand as it lingered this time. “We have one more challenge tonight, a personal level test.”
The leader waved a hand. “Come up here, Set
h.”
The cop left his beer and new friends, approaching Adrian with pride and confusion.
“You have demonstrated great thinking skills, excellent teamwork, and an above average slyness that American men have used to protect this country for centuries. As a reward, Kenn will give you a test. If you pass, you’ll graduate straight to the top level and start with Kyle and his Eagles tomorrow.”
The men all cheered, glad for him, and Seth raised a brow as he grinned. “When?”
Kenn stood and Adrian grinned back. “Now.”
The leader tossed his dog tags at Kenn’s booted feet, and the wind immediately began trying to cover the shiny metal with sand. “All you have to do is pick ‘em up and hand ‘em to me.”
“That’s it?”
The newly-crowned Level Four men groaned, snorted at the question. Kenn’s look was menacing enough to make Seth get serious, as he realized this wouldn’t be a give-me. The Marine had beaten Doug.
“Just get by me, is all,” Kenn sneered.
Seth nodded, handing his gun to Adrian. The second he let go of it, he spun and dove for the tags.
He came close, but Kenn kicked his shoulder with the flat of his boot at the last second, sending him rolling through the grit.
Seth got easily to his feet, eyes on the prize, and this time when he rushed Kenn, the Marine used his own weight to throw him across the ring of now standing and shouting men.
He gained his balance, rolling as he landed. When the cop rushed a third time, Kenn planted a hard fist in his ribs that had him grunting.
“This is for real! If you don’t want it, quit now!” Kenn growled, not about to take it easy on the redhead even though he hoped for another ally in him.
Seth shook his head, side hurting and heart waking at the challenge. His body language changed, became intent.
Each of the Level men watched him, remembering their own tests, and that moment when they too had realized they wanted it almost more than anything - because of Adrian.
Seth moved closer, circling, no longer eyeing the metal under Kenn’s feet, but keeping track of it. This time when the redhead rushed, he came in low and hard, making the Marine take a step back as they shoved against each other.