by Kyle West
Darlene nodded. “We can try it, I guess.”
“If she takes to that, well, we’ll see about enrolling her in school with Isabel.”
Raine had places to be. As much as he wanted to make sure Makara was okay, he had to run things. He’d have to leave Makara in others’ hands for now.
Raine reached for the door and opened it.
“Raine?”
He turned, suspecting already what Darlene was going to say. “I know. Don’t get too attached.”
Darlene nodded. “She’s a tough girl. She’ll make it.”
He nodded back. “Tell Jonas I’ll look in on him later.”
He closed the door behind him, chewing on his lip as he walked back to base. He didn’t like that bit about monsters. He’d have to bring it up with the council.
Chapter 11
IN THE COUNCIL MEETING, only three members were present; Raine, Dan Green, and his half-brother, Ohlan, who surveyed him with bright blue eyes and pale skin. Lots of people couldn’t imagine how he and Raine were related, and Raine could see that point easily enough. Ohlan was pale as a ghost, and for that reason alone couldn’t go out on nighttime patrols. Both men listened carefully as Raine related what Makara had told him, however little that had been. Dan looked troubled, while Ohlan merely interested.
“What do you make of it?” Raine finally asked.
“Coupled with the copter, girl has to be from a Bunker,” Ohlan said. “Bunker One’s a likely candidate.”
Both Raine and Dan looked at Ohlan. Bunker One was the holy grail, completely untapped and known to be the largest by a long shot. The amount of scrap, weapons, machinery, and medicine found within could supply the Angels almost indefinitely.
If only they knew where it was.
“How do you figure that?” Raine asked.
“Simple enough,” Ohlan said. “Most of the Bunkers are too small to keep a copter. And another copter touched down not too far from here, as you well know, after running out of fuel.”
Raine nodded, but that copter had been too far from Lost Angels’ territory. Raine hadn’t sent a patrol that way yet, but presumably, it had been picked clean by Reapers.
“This bit about the monsters, though,” Dan said. “What could that mean?”
“A little girl’s imagination,” Ohlan said. “The Raiders out east are more dangerous. A large horde of ‘em must have worked together to take the bunker down.”
“Yeah, but who?” Raine asked.
Ohlan gave a superior smile, as if his brother should have known. “Char and Raider Bluff is my guess. They’re the biggest thing east of L.A. and south of Vegas.”
“Maybe it was the Vegas gangs,” Dan mused.
“Vegas stays in Vegas,” Ohlan said, in a play on an Old World expression that had no place in this new reality. “It was Bluff or nobody.”
“Don’t know why, but no one seems to be considering the most obvious option,” Raine said. Both men looked at him. “The girl could be right. Maybe it really was monsters.”
Dan looked at him, incredulous, while Ohlan guffawed.
“Hear me out,” Raine said, holding up a hand. “This girl is traumatized. It goes beyond losing her mom and dad. She was terrified to even talk about it. And really, you think a group of raiders could have busted into Bunker One? An army couldn’t force its way through a bunker door, and they were built to withstand the blast of a nuclear bomb. If it really was monsters, though . . .”
“You should listen to yourself, big brother,” Ohlan said. “The girl’s been through trauma, sure. Traumatic situations can cause a little girl to believe all sorts of crazy things.”
Dan, who usually wasn’t inclined to agree with Ohlan, reluctantly nodded.
Raine had to admit his brother was probably right. It was far-fetched. The world was full of horrors enough without having to bring literal monsters into it.
“Did you find anything out about where it was?” Ohlan asked.
Raine felt a twinge of annoyance. “She’s just lost her parents, Ohlan. She isn’t a puzzle to be figured out. She’s a person.”
Ohlan smirked. “I thought you were stone cold, Raine. Looks like there’s a heart beneath that gruff exterior.”
Ohlan ought to know that better than anybody, but he had a point. Ever since Makara had been saved, old emotions Raine had buried for years were resurfacing. When his wife and daughter were murdered, he’d pushed everything down, channeled every fiber of his being toward killing the one responsible: Carin Black. Seeing Makara had caused old memories to resurface, the things that had once given Raine’s life meaning.
Makara wasn’t Adrienne. Adrienne, who had haunted his dreams of late. But maybe he could save Makara the way he hadn’t been able to save his own daughter. Maybe if he saved Makara, Adrienne would stop haunting him and let him rest in peace.
“People are complicated, Ohlan,” he said, eyeing him in a way that let him know his brother had gone too far. “You can’t pick people open like they’re things. We’ll find out about where she’s from, in due time. She’s one of us, now, and we need to treat her as such.”
That proclamation ended all argument and sent a clear message to his brother: don’t mess with Makara.
“All right,” Ohlan said, placatingly. “I’m with you, brother. You know that.”
“This session is over,” Raine said. “Apprise the others of what was discussed here.”
Without another word from either of them, Raine left.
“RAINE!”
Dan caught up with him in the hallway. Raine opened the doors and walked into the courtyard of Lost Angels’ Command. Raine let Dan fall in beside him.
“He’s an asshole,” Dan said. “Always has been. Listen, just say the word and I’ll vote that little prick off the council, and so would half of everyone else.”
Raine sighed. This conversation again. “He’s my brother, Dan. He stays. He’s been with us since the beginning.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dan said. “So you’ve told me. He owes you everything. If not for you, Black would have murdered him. Tortured him, even. He should be more grateful.”
“In his view,” Raine explained, “He’s even with me. He saved me too, Dan. I don’t want to lord my so-called benevolence over him. That’s not how a good leader operates.”
Dan shook his head. “I hear you, Boss, but I think you’re wrong. I don’t know why, but I don’t trust him. You realize he’s talking some of the others around to his way of thinking?”
“That’s politics,” Raine said. “I’m ready for him.”
“He would never challenge you openly. That’s not his way, Raine. He’ll wait until he thinks he can win.” He paused. “No, he’ll wait till he knows he can win.”
“Dan.”
Raine had stopped, and Dan with him. Raine looked ahead, pulling his dark shades down. Dan just stared at his leader.
“Enough about my brother. Okay? We have our differences, but we grew up together. We share the same blood, however different we might look on the surface.”
“Because of blood, I don’t think you can see him in a rational . . .”
“Enough!”
Several people stared, while yet more scattered. Their leader, while slow to anger, was a sight to behold when his rage had finally built past the breaking point.
Dan backed off. “Sure, Boss. Have it your way.”
“I’m going for a ride,” he said. “Hold down the fort here.”
“Sure thing, Raine,” Dan said, his blue eyes looking stung.
DAN WATCHED AS RAINE fired up his custom-made chopper. The wooden gates of Angel Command opened to let him out in a roar of dust. He stood there until the gates closed again.
“Out on patrol alone again,” Dan muttered. “He’s gonna get himself killed one day.”
Dan turned and surveyed the fourteen-story midrise building that served as Lost Angel Command, well-intact and protected on all sides by a wooden perimeter, which was always manne
d and patrolled by men with rifles, with guard towers protecting key points. The red sky looked especially baleful today, casting the entire scene a dreary red.
Makara, whether she knew it or not, had stirred up a hornet’s nest. Dan would have to keep an eye on her, and more than that, he’d have to keep an eye on Ohlan.
Chapter 12
2048 PASSED INTO 2049 with little ceremony. As the months dragged on, Makara got better, not only physically, but mentally. Makara was questioned regularly by Dr. Klein when her mental state deemed improved sufficiently.
One day Raine, Kevin Klein, and Darlene Sanders sat with Makara in the psychiatrist’s study, and she told her tale, such as she could remember it. A lot of it didn’t make sense, and a lot of it was surely blocked out, but several things were clear.
There had been literal monsters attacking Bunker One, hundreds of them, and that only two helicopters had flown free. She also said something about a spaceship, which didn’t do much to add to the credibility of her story. Raine didn’t know what to make of that, but he knew his brother would love it.
She couldn’t say anything about where Bunker One was. Something about Shy Ann Mountain. Raine had asked around a bit after the session, and no one knew where it was, either. There was no mountain by that name close to L.A., Raine was sure of that. Isabel Robles ended up knowing the answer, saying it was in Colorado, and it wasn’t Shy Ann Mountain, but Cheyenne. That put Ohlan’s ambitions to find Bunker One far out of reach, and Raine had to admit, learning that Cheyenne Mountain was so far away was a blow. Finding the armament to resist the Reapers was getting hard to come by.
But Raine chose to believe Makara, no matter how crazy her story. And it wasn’t hard to believe her. Raine could look in her eyes and know that she was telling the truth, or at least what she believed to be the truth. She had been through hell and hadn’t come all the way back.
She needed to be believed.
Over the following year, Raine kept a close eye on her, making sure she had everything she needed. She didn’t fit in well with most of the kids, even after a few months. She played alone in the corner, and just watched her hands, as if there were something there only she could see.
She only came out of her shell with Raine, or with Isabel, and to a small extent, Dr. Klein and Dan Green. She seemed much older than her seven years in that way. That was sadly common these days, but with Makara, it was even more so.
One day, six months after Makara had arrived, she got into a fight and badly injured a child two years older than herself. That had sent her to Dr. Klein for even more evaluation. Raine worried about her, and asked Dan what he thought about Raine adopting her as his own.
“She needs a parent, a home to stay in,” Raine said. “No one else will take her. She’s too wild.”
Dan whistled. “What about a mother?”
Raine shook his head. “Don’t know about that. I got my own issues, you know that.”
Dan nodded. “I know.”
“As the situation stands, she has to stay in the nursery. Just locked in.” Raine shook his head. “That ain’t right. I’ve wanted her as my own from the beginning, and I’ve given plenty of time for others to come forward. No one’s stepped up.”
“They don’t want to cross you, Raine,” Dan said, astutely.
“Isabel doesn’t seem to mind crossing me,” Raine said, almost with a shudder.
“Isabel hasn’t stepped up, either,” Dan said.
“Yeah,” Raine said. “She’s pretty much Makara’s mom during the day. I guess handling her at night is too much.”
“My advice? Keep waiting, Raine. Someone will want her.”
“Yeah,” Raine said. “That someone is me. I was a problem child, too. We just want to be loved, like everyone else.”
Dan sighed. “I told you not to get attached.”
“Too late, Green.”
Within the week, Raine had adopted Makara as his own.
A LITTLE OVER A YEAR after the day she was rescued, Makara hardly ever left Raine’s side. He raised her like his own daughter in that first year as she adjusted to life in L.A. It was not without its set of challenges, but she proved resilient in the way only children can be.
Raine was a busy man, but still, he always found time to spend with her, and took little Makara with him whenever he could.
Of course, the now eight-year-old girl missed her brother, Samuel, but there was nothing Raine could do about that. No one by that name had approached the Angels’ base or any of their outposts.
She was a strange child, not one to fit in with girls her own age, who liked to play with dolls, or play house. She liked to tromp the broken cityscape of post-apocalyptic L.A. with the boys, who accepted her once they figured out doing so was the safer option, because nobody could easily say no to Makara. That said, she liked to sneak off on her own, too, her small frame and light foot meaning she could fool the perimeter guards more often than not.
Raine learned not to ask questions when she came home for dinner with new bruises, scrapes, or even a black eye one time. To Makara, they were badges of honor, and she would almost never go to Darlene Sanders to get her hurts patched up.
Makara hated it when the women tried to coddle her and take her under their wing, to teach her the vital skills of keeping house, sewing, cooking, and washing laundry. She learned these only because she had to, but it was clear that she’d rather be anywhere else. More than anything, she wanted to find her brother, who she refused to believe was dead. That was the real reason she snuck out so much. Samuel was out there, somewhere. She had seen him on the other copter during the journey to L.A.
Makara didn’t smile often, but one of the few times she did was when Raine took her on his patrols, as a way of rewarding her when she agreed to learn from the women. Makara had become something of a mascot to the Angels, as a few of Raine’s men had had a hand in her rescue.
One cool, spring day, Raine took her on one of his patrols on his chopper. The patrols that were just him and his adopted daughter were the closest he ever came to knowing peace. The women disapproved of Raine taking her with him, but as the leader of the Angels, they couldn’t stop him from doing it. Makara wasn’t like other children, and patrols were a good way of keeping her happy. A happy child was easier to raise, and raising Makara was often very challenging.
Over the years, the Angels’ had carved out a vast swath of territory in South L.A. That part of the city had laid largely abandoned since Dark Day, and even the Reapers had trouble taming a lot of the smaller gangs that called it home. Ever since Raine and Dan split from the Reapers, Raine had used those gangs as a buffer between himself and the far more numerous and powerful Reapers. It had worked so far – but just barely. Given time, Raine feared, Carin Black would find a way to break through and end the Angels once and for all. He was not a man to forget a slight, and the founding of a rival gang was more than just a slight to the Reaper name. It was a humiliation of the worst kind that must be repaid in the harshest terms possible.
To Carin Black, killing Raine’s wife and daughter wasn’t enough revenge for his leaving the Reapers. He wanted to destroy Raine totally.
The Angels needed more men to resist him. Trying to recruit from the smaller gangs was hard, and that drew those leaders’ ire. A lot of the local warlords resented the Angels’ rise to prominence. There’d been a few turf wars, as there always were in post-apocalyptic L.A. Only the Angels’ resilience had won them the right to stay. The defenses of Lost Angels’ Command were strong. It would take an army to breach them, and most gangs just didn’t have the manpower to do it.
All the same, the Angels weren’t strong enough to defend themselves against an all-out attack from the Reapers. And Carin would never forgive Raine for his seceding, just as Raine would never forgive Carin for what he had done.
No, Raine thought. I won’t think of that today. I won’t give him power over my thoughts.
The mere memory brought the present back to his
attention. Makara sat behind him, electing to let silence reign over the gray, twisted ruins of the City of Angels.
Raine pulled to a stop next to a large, open field sitting below the old Interstate. That field was full of men working hard in the cool, cloudy afternoon, harvesting potatoes. They paid little mind to the armed Angels watching over them.
Raine did everything he could to give his subjects a good life; the Reapers often worked their slaves to death. The Angels’ slaves were grateful for the kinder life Raine offered, even if they didn’t truly have freedom. At least, that was what Raine told himself. As unseemly as the institution was, slavery was just a fact of life these days. There were those who had to toil in the broken fields of the city to feed everyone else.
And being a slave of the Angels certainly beat being out there, prey to any gang that happened along. Prey to starvation, prey to freezing in the winter, or a countless number of things that got a person killed these days. Life in the post-Ragnarok world was nasty, brutish, and short. It was impossible to support any kind of society without workers to feed the rest.
Raine had worked for Black and had seen the way his slaves lived. Many chose to kill themselves in that hell.
He knew, compared to him, Raine was the Angel of Mercy.
But Makara did not seem to see it the same way.
“Why do you have slaves, Raine?”
Raine blinked at the innocence of that question, one she had never asked him before. Underneath the curious tone, Raine knew that she had probably wondered it often. There was no slavery in Bunker One, where she had come from. There, they had machines to care for the people. They had farmers, at least according to what Makara had told him, that were paid a wage they could use to buy things.
This world above had been a rude awakening for her. Raine would have to tread carefully as he answered.
“We’ve got to eat,” he said. “Without these people, we’d have no wheat, no corn, no beans, no potatoes, no cabbage . . . all those things that’ll make you grow up big and strong.”