The Life After War Collection

by Angela White

  “Get inside!” Adrian ordered.

  “Help the others!” Jeremy added.

  Remembering the birds in Utah, Neil hit the air horn on his belt, and the closest bugs immediately recoiled.

  “Use the horns!” Neil shouted, his keeping the cicadas away from Adrian. That man didn’t look up, or stop what he was doing.

  The other Eagles blew their air horns, and it began to overpower the chaos. The cicadas reluctantly retreated under the combined noise, but only as far as the treetops and low sky above them.

  “We need to go!” Seth shouted, dragging dazed men toward the door.

  “Not done yet!” Kyle answered, hand starting to go numb from holding pressure on the pulsing wound. Closing the hole required shoving the glowing metal over only a small portion of her skin at a time, until it burnt it closed. The reek of flesh cooking grew stronger, and Angela’s teeth sank into Kyle’s arm and broke the skin.

  “How long, Boss?” he asked, barely feeling the pain of her clamped jaw.

  “Three more on this side.”

  Angela shuddered under Adrian’s merciless hands.

  “I’m out!” Neil tossed the empty air horn away.

  “Same here!” Zack called.

  Without enough noise to repel them, the insects immediately began swarming back down.

  Angela’s fingers dug into Jeremy’s wrist. “The…Caller. Aahhh!”

  Her body went rigid, and fresh blood pulsed from under Kyle’s hand. He tightened his hold and began to pray, something he hadn’t done since he was a child.

  Jeremy cut the Caller from Angela’s belt and thrust it into Neil’s grip.

  “Get her bag!” Adrian ordered.

  Neil handled the caller like he’d seen her do during the wolf mission, and it lunged to life, trembling eagerly. He swung it hard and high.

  “Buu-buu-buu-buu…”

  Absorbing Angela’s pain, the Caller sent out a low base of thundering vibrations instead of the high-pitched howl they were expecting.

  “Duu-duu-duu…duu!”

  The deeper noise rolled upward and slammed into the oncoming cicadas like a tornado. It blew the neat formation apart, and the cicadas began to fall, pelting the Eagles. When they hit the ground, they didn’t fly back up, but lay there–stunned.

  “Pressure!” Adrian snapped, reaching for the next lighter. He didn’t care about the bugs, only the woman dying in Kyle’s arms.

  The Caller went dark as Neil stopped swinging, and he looked down in time to watch Adrian shove the next glowing lighter against Angela’s back.

  Her teeth snapped together, body arching. Tears spilled over her cheeks in small rivulets, and the knuckles on Jeremy’s wrist turned white from her grip. Her breath hissed out in a low groan that wanted to be a scream as Adrian finally pulled back, and Neil knew he would never forget this moment. Her pain was his.

  Angela’s body sagged, and Adrian threw the gory lighter away in fury. He tore another patch from his shirt and helped lean her against his knee this time. He nodded at Kyle, cloth ready. “Lift.”

  Kyle raised his hand and blanched as fresh blood poured over her chest in crimson ripples.

  Adrian shoved the material into the hole and put Kyle’s palm over it. “I need more heat!”

  Billy dropped the black bag at Adrian’s feet, and then opened it. “Boss.”

  Adrian saw the carefully packaged pouches of blood and allowed himself a small measure of hope. Each was labeled with a name.

  “Neil has Point!” Adrian passed the duty to the trooper without considering–he needed his mind on Angela. If she slipped, he would break the rules and offer his life for hers. He was already lending his strength, but there was little else he could do right now. His gifts weren’t like hers.

  Jeremy motioned half a dozen men forward for perimeter duty, and then went to help Neil, who was grimly gathering more lighters.

  Adrian slapped the blood bag into Kyle’s free hand. “Hold it up.”

  The liquid began rushing into Angela seconds later, and Kyle squeezed the middle of the bag to move it faster. His harsh breathing mirrored hers as they waited in frustration for the lighters, batting away dying cicadas still dropping from the drizzling sky.

  3

  “We need John,” Seth stated the obvious, gun still in hand.

  “Can we roll?” Neil asked, bringing the glowing, sizzling lighters in a charred hubcap.

  “No.” Adrian grabbed one. “Check-in.”

  Angela’s whimper faded to unconsciousness.

  “All clear.”

  “Daniel’s dead. Frank, too,” Billy reported in a carefully controlled timbre. Both men had been near him when they started moving in, but not when they reached the street.

  Sure he had been heard, Billy went to cover a gap in their perimeter.

  “Bag’s almost empty, Boss.” Kyle felt her start to shiver. “Someone give us cover!”

  Zack and a few others hurried to help, stripping their jackets.

  Glad that she wasn’t feeling anything now, Adrian dumped half of a pack of white powder into the small corner of the wound that he’d left unburnt. He quickly shoved the gauze back in and placed Kyle’s hand over the wound. “Five minutes for the clotting agent to work.”

  Kyle shifted against the brick wall. “Slide her over.”

  They carefully placed her in his arms, and the closest Eagles covered them with their jackets.

  Adrian dug through the doctors’ bag and found more labeled bottles. He gave Angela a generous dose of antibiotics and switched to the last pouch of blood with her name on it.

  “Boss…” Kyle’s fear was heavy.

  “Stand your ground,” Adrian replied, but it was more to himself than the mobster. She wasn’t dead yet. He wouldn’t give her up.

  Neil and Jeremy finished moving through the wreckage–using suppressors on survivors to keep from triggering the remaining cicadas clicking unhappily above them–then joined Adrian.

  Adrian made a curt motion. How many?

  It was returned with the same worried expression. Not enough. Short by fifty.

  Adrian’s gut twisted. Along the way, some of the slavers had split off from the main group. Maybe they’d been deserting, but more likely, they had been sent back to attack Safe Haven.

  As Adrian had the thought, headlights glared off the trees, engines swelling.

  Catching up, Adrian realized.

  Overhead, the storm rumbled once in low warning before drenching them again.

  “Get inside!” Adrian ordered. “Everyone inside!”

  There was a fast run to the door, but it was Kyle, with Angela’s bloody body in his arms, who went through first.

  Adrian lined his main sharpshooters up at the shattered windows again, set to hand out more of what they’d already dealt. “On my mark…”

  Headlights flashed dimly against the glare of fires, and those inside the rest stop held still as the remaining Mexicans came in on foot to examine the scene.

  “I want to hear them scream!”

  Adrian’s order was a low snarl of fury.

  The Eagles understood what that would cause and agreed, waiting for his call.

  The Mexicans found their dead leader quickly.

  “Por aquí!” (Over here!)

  “It’s Cesar!”

  “Está muerto?” (Is he dead?)

  “Si.”

  “Check inside.”

  As the enemy moved closer, Adrian made the call. “Now!”

  The Eagles opened fire and bullets went through hands, knees, and nuts in a blaring volley.

  “Aahhhh!”

  Cicadas exploded from the thickets of trees in a hungry frenzy, and swarmed downward. Without a way to repel the insects, the wounded slavers were helpless against the sheer numbers.

  Listening to it was rough for Adrian’s army…until they looked to the back corner, where Kyle was holding Angela. The complete dejection of their highest Eagle was far worse than the sounds o
f evil being conquered. They kept firing.

  Realizing that Adrian was still inside the rest stop, the surviving slavers fled. In their panic, most of them overlooked the razor wire and met the same fate as their comrades.

  Inside the rest stop, the Eagles also wanted the carnage to end, but there was no denying that they enjoyed some of it. The first battle had moved so fast that few of them had a clear memory of it. Survival was often that way, but this second fight was slower and clearer for the Eagles. To them, it was justice for those hurt and killed during the slavers’ rampage through the United States.

  4

  “We gotta call Marc,” Seth stated as the noises outside fell to only the occasional cry. The odor of blood, of death, hung heavily in the room.

  “I’m sure he’s already rollin’,” Adrian replied. He’d felt it–the moment her life became a part of fate’s swinging scales–and was positive Marc had, too. The sulfur scents of the witch and the smoky vanilla that was Angie had been replaced with a dry heat so thin that it was like a fog in his mind.

  Adrian went to her, snapping on his light.

  “Let’s see.”

  Kyle slowly lifted his hand.

  No fresh blood appeared, and both men were eased a bit. They carefully added another layer of gauze, and then only taped it over three corners of the wound. It would allow her body pressure to adjust and keep her breathing even.

  As they finished, Adrian had the restless men make a bed with dusty cushions from the lounge area, freeing Kyle.

  The mobster joined his team, covered in Angela’s blood. None of them spoke.

  Adrian swept what remained of his confident army. They were battered and bleeding, with curt gestures and unsatisfied demeanors that demanded he fix it. Adrian did the best he could with short words.

  “She’s doing her duty, even now. Do yours.”

  Adrian’s confidence never faltered and it flipped them back into his soldiers. They got to work and tried not to stare at the woman lying deathly still behind them.

  Outside, the bugs fed unopposed.

  “Can’t stay here. It’ll draw predators.” Neil was eager to be gone.

  “We’re not movin’ her.” Kyle wasn’t willing to take the risk.

  “We’ll be fighting Nature next,” Neil warned.

  “Ammo count?” Kyle asked.

  “We went through about half of what we brought,” Jeremy answered.

  “We’re staying,” Kyle chose. He pointed at Zack. “Collect and load our fallen men. Take a crew.”

  Kyle gestured four Eagles to sentry duty and sent two more for sniper watch.

  While they were outside, the Eagles swept the newest battle scene for wounded or hiding slavers, and found none. The cicadas had done a good job.

  Zack took a moment to look around, a bit stunned by the devastation. Cars, trees, and the ground were splattered in dark red–even the puddles appeared to be filled with blood instead of rain. Moving with the wind, smoke rolled along the battlefield like thick fog, covering and then uncovering the bodies to reveal gruesome details. It was amazing–in both good and bad ways–that they had become so lethal under Adrian’s guidance.

  Zack was full of confusion and anger as he helped to put their fallen men in body bags and then load them into the rear of one of their trucks. He could be the one about to go six feet under. How had it come to this? Why were these men dead?

  Inside the rest stop, more than a few of the Eagles were silently asking the same things. It was hard to think about all the hell the slavers had caused in comparison to the total devastation that Adrian’s army had wreaked in only a few hours.

  “It’ll be days before our camp gets word. Will they hold?” Kyle asked, trying to wipe another layer of blood from his hands.

  Chain-smoking by the bullet-ridden door, Adrian responded, “They’ll have to. We’re not finished.”

  “How long will it take the remaining slavers in his camp to figure out that he isn’t coming back?” Jeremy asked worriedly. “How long before they attack Safe Haven without him?”

  “Three, four days at the most.” Adrian ground out his smoke under his boot. “Marc and Kenn have plans to delay it and buy us time.”

  Neil had been studying the map and he spoke up as the tension grew. “There’s a warehouse, a country club, and a manufacturing plant, all within a mile of here.

  “The country club,” Adrian chose, going to the back of the room. He couldn’t stand to leave her alone, though she was unconscious. He knew what that darkness was like–terrifying. “Dope it out. And someone cover those windows. It’ll get cold in here without the glass.”

  “Will she still want to be an Eagle?” Allan wondered.

  The lowly muttered question got immediate attention.

  “It’s not up to her!” Jeremy retorted harshly. “One gunshot wound is enough!”

  With nothing to do but wait and watch Angela’s shallow breathing, most of the Eagles wore expressions that said it had been wrong of Adrian to let her join them.

  “She won’t quit.” Adrian answered the disapproval this time. “We will have female Eagles, and sometimes, they’ll get hurt… Or die. It’s how things work in this new world.”

  Leaning against a wall nearby, Cynthia stated what the Eagles were all thinking.

  “You’re a cold, hard son of a bitch, Adrian Mitchel.” The reporter was covered in shock and fallout, aware that she now looked like one of them, as well.

  “You have no idea,” Adrian retorted. He opened the door and did a fast sweep. Dusty but undamaged when they’d arrived, the rest stop was now the scene of a high-budget action film. Death and absolution coated the smoking set. “I brought her in because she belongs here.”

  “And if she dies?”

  Allan’s quick question made the Eagles wince.

  Adrian sighed unhappily. “Then we’ll honor her by remembering that the freedom to choose this way of living, is what she gave her life for.”

  “Mine…to give,” Angela uttered weakly, drawing their attention. Adrian’s need had brought her around, but where was Brady?

  “Tell them…Cyn,” Angela choked out, torso burning. She let the darkness reclaim her, the pain too much to fight. If Marc wasn’t here, she didn’t want to be, either.

  All eyes, except Adrian’s, went to the reporter. He was busy listening for the witch, hoping to hear those empty minefields tell him that Angela would live. He wasn’t worried about Cynthia’s coming words, despite this being her first real chance to bring it all down. He cared only for the witch’s comfort, and the continued silence was deafening.

  Cynthia slowly raised her head, splattered in red drops that were tacky on her skin and clothes.

  “Did you think he was bluffing when he said your life for his sheep?” Her contemptuous words raked them brutally, none of the men prepared for the depth of her scorn. “Are you all that blind?”

  Cynthia looked toward Angela’s bloody body, and then down at the filthy gun she would never part with. “It’s too late to go back now…for all of us.”

  There was a stunned silence after those words, one where every Eagle there realized that the days of fighting with Cynthia might be over.

  Cynthia glanced up at the man she would have destroyed if given enough time. Would Adrian reward her awful sacrifice?

  Still in the doorway, tempting fate, Adrian’s blue eyes glowed only for her, for what she’d done. “You have one request.”

  Cynthia looked back down at the murder weapon she had grabbed without a thought as they ran for cover from the rain. Cesar’s blood was flecked across the muddy barrel.

  “I want to do it again. I want to be her XO.”

  “You’ll have to work for it,” Adrian warned, ignoring the disbelieving glares and snorts from his men. “Samantha also wants that place.”

  Neil opened his mouth, but didn’t follow through with the protest. He’d known that, but hadn’t really faced what it meant. Now, he had to. Samantha could be
the next female bleeding out in some shitty little town for Adrian’s dreams.

  “I’ll earn it,” Cynthia promised.

  “Yes, you will. Welcome to my army, Cynthia.” Adrian glanced at Jeremy, who was staring in distress. “Take care of her until we get back? I’ll assign someone else then.”

  “Whatever you think is best,” Jeremy forced out. He hadn’t thought Cynthia would ever become a convert.

  “She’s shivering.” Kyle drew attention back to the other female. “Do we have a heat source?”

  “Didn’t think we’d need it,” Neil informed them regretfully.

  “We’ll use body heat,” Adrian stated.

  “You’re beat, Boss.” Neil knew Adrian hadn’t slept at all the night before they’d left camp. “Take the first shift and Kyle can relieve you.”

  Adrian’s mind flashed to the waiting nightmares and then to the man speeding through the apocalyptic darkness to get here. “I’m good. Kyle first, you next.”

  Kyle stored the change. He and Neil had both seen and heard enough over the last month to know that Adrian wanted to be the one holding Angela, no matter the reason. The fact that he hadn’t taken the opportunity said Marc wouldn’t be okay with it.

  With the excessive speed and reckless driving they all assumed he would use, Marc should arrive in about five hours. Adrian had timed it so that his best friend would be the one doing heat duty when he arrived. It meant Marc had also discovered Adrian’s other secret–he wanted Angela for more than just the safety of his flock.

  It was something they hadn’t discussed, but Kyle and Neil knew it was coming. Somewhere down the road, Adrian might become unworthy. They could only be loyal to him if he remained honorable and the instant Adrian crossed that line, he would lose it all. If Angela lived, his margin for error in the future, especially where she was concerned, would be slim. If she died, that would put their hard-assed leader into the red now.

  Kyle ignored everyone watching him carefully lay down between Angela and the wall. He tucked her against his chest, unable to stop a grim smile as he saw her left hand tighten around her secondary gun.

  Kyle adjusted them until she was fully covered and breathing evenly, and then laid his head by hers. “Easy, rookie. I’ve got you.”