The Life After War Collection

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The Life After War Collection Page 194

by Angela White

Instead of ignoring or even flinching, their working animals immediately lunged his way.

  Marc fired, taking down two of the red-eyed dogs, and three more attacked. Marc was sent back to Nebraska, to killing the wolves.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  The Eagles began firing, picking off dogs that slid from the fighting ball and ran at them.

  Marc kicked his steel-toed boot through the teeth of their biggest working dog and then shot it in the head.

  Grrr!

  Marc spun, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the jaws that clamped down on his wrist.

  “Uggg!” Marc brought his other hand up and blew a hole through the dog’s throat.

  “Betray us!” He slung the gore aside, and stormed into the violently churning pack of enraged animals. He pulled the triggers on both Colts. “This is what you get!”

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Marc wasn’t taking any prisoners. Two adrenaline-fueled reloads had the dog pile apart, and the few survivors quickly fled, running off with enraged howls.

  Dog was curled into a tight, bloody ball that didn’t crawl from under the corpses of those he had managed to kill. The other bodies were spread around the wolf in a beautiful, awful circle of skill.

  Marc yanked and kicked them off, digging his way to Dog. The wolf still didn’t move, and Marc quickly picked him up.

  The walk to Chris only took a minute, and Marc couldn’t tell if Dog was alive. Blood from both of them dripped steadily down his arm as he walked, and the smell of urine was nearly overwhelming. The other dogs had pissed on him during the fight. What the hell had happened?

  Chris jerked as Marc slid into his tent, dropping the dart gun through shaking hands.

  “He needs help. Now!”

  Chris didn’t bother answering, his knobby, hairy legs flying around boxes.

  Marc started to put Dog on the floor and Chris jerked a hand toward the bed. “I’ll get a new one. Make him comfortable if you can.”

  “I’m not sure if he’s–”

  “Don’t say that!” Chris snapped. He didn’t like the wolf, but he loved animals. “Make yourself useful and get out.”

  Chris knelt down by his bed, frowning deeply. “Don’t move, Dog. This will stop the pain, and then I’ll sew you up.”

  There was no response from the bloody wolf, but the vet didn’t require one. He was sliding into the zone and words were just a part of the entry ritual.

  Marc left, pulled back to protecting the camp. He was starting to get a small idea of why Adrian always looked so stressed out.

  3

  Marc joined the guards, aware of camp members streaming from tents. He keyed the mike. “A flock or herd of something going by triggered the dogs into a fight. It’s all over. As you were.”

  Marc’s leadership style was different than Adrian’s, but still effective. If he had tried to act like the blond, it wouldn’t have worked. There was only one Adrian, and everyone knew it.

  “Hold that hand up,” John ordered, appearing at his side.

  Marc didn’t argue. He needed both of them for this job.

  The Eagles waited for Marc to tell them what to do now that they had a cover story.

  “Get rid of the bodies. Make a fire pit, but don’t light it yet. Use some of that dead brush,” Marc told them as John stuck a needle into his arm.

  He ran through the possible scenarios, and again, Adrian was quicker, but he had been in charge of the camp for months. Marc’s next words eased any lingering doubt about him being in charge.

  “I want balloons and the boric acid we found in Hutchinson.” Marc waved more men to him with his good hand. “Fill the balloons and bring them in crates and buckets to the perimeter. We’ll pop those buckets and crates with shotguns if we have any uninvited guests.”

  The image of a poison cloud greeting the surviving dogs was enough to make Eagles fall eagerly into the chore.

  “Keep reminding the teams to sweep low and high, and someone check in with the clearing crew. Make sure they’re alert.” Marc handed out the final details with relief. He’d sent a mental call to Angela as soon as it started.

  Samantha came to Marc’s side with damp hair. She’d been in the shower and hadn’t heard anything over the water. She also hadn’t sensed it. Her mind had been full of the thoughts she only allowed free when she needed a quick release. That had been interrupted by Peggy bringing in one of the kids who’d soiled herself.

  “What can I do?”

  Marc thought he had it covered, as much as he could, and forgot to soften his words. “Whatever you were before.”

  Stung, Samantha turned for the mess. Maybe I’ll have that drink now.

  Marc felt the error, but didn’t call her back. He would stop by her tent on rounds and explain that he hadn’t meant it the way she’d clearly taken it. Right now, if there was nothing else... Marc ran through it all one more time and then let himself go to Chris.

  The vet was standing outside the tent, eyeing the cages around him with concern.

  Marc saw the glaze of hatred, the promises of blood in beady eyes, and understood the vet was busy accepting that the animals he loved so much loathed him.

  “I sewed him up, but…” the vet stopped, turning away.

  Marc ducked into the smelly tent and went to his friend. Covered in bandages, it was easier to see the wolf’s big body rise and fall, confirming that he was alive.

  Marc’s hand was gentle as he stroked the wolf’s fur. But he wouldn’t be for long. Death hung thick in the air.

  Dog whimpered, trying to nudge his fingers, and Marc’s resolve broke.

  “I need you to wake up!” Marc begged. “Please!”

  Dog stiffened, whimpering again, and Marc dug deeper.

  “Just this once,” he whispered. “Please.”

  And what will you give?

  Marc cringed at the voice he’d locked away before meeting Angie. He had expected it to take longer, to be harder.

  “Please help him.”

  What would you give in return? that bitter voice insisted.

  “What do you want in return?”

  I’d be there when you take her, Marcus, the demon, cold and angry, revealed the price with glee. I’d feel her surrender, too!

  The wolf’s body went slack under his fingers, and Marc broke further. “Yes.”

  Blinding blue light filled the tent, shining through the cracks and shooting through the cloth like it wasn’t there. A cloud of it settled over the wolf and slowly sank in.

  “I’m sorry, baby-cakes,” Marc whispered. He already knew his secret would eventually be discovered because of this.

  I can help there, the demon stated. I know what she needs, and it is not a boy scout.

  Marc had been forced to deny who he really was. Mother had beaten him at first and then insisted that he didn’t have the curse at all. To escape the misery, he’d told the demon to go away and it had. Once locked up, it had been easier to believe the lies than to face the truth and keep fighting his mother. That type of life-long mentality wasn’t going to change overnight.

  “No. Thank you, but go away now.”

  The demon faded back into his lonely coffin, and Marc allowed himself a single ache of regret, then closed it all off behind that thick wall of denial his childhood had built. He wasn’t like the rest of them. He didn’t hear voices. He had no power. He wasn’t cursed with a gift that marked him as a freak and prevented friendships. The vet had saved Dog, and that, was that.

  He determinedly masked his emotions and threw himself into the next step of cleaning up the fight and handling the camp.

  4

  Samantha wasn’t sure where she should be or what she should be doing. A drink was about the only thing that appealed, other than going back to the shower to finish what she’d started.

  The current line there discouraged that option.

  The light wind blew Sam’s hair back, revealing her frown, and the man at the center mess table saw it. His gaze was dra
wn to her, as always, and against his will.

  Wanting a few minutes, even if they were spent arguing or in silence, Neil spoke up when she would have disappeared inside the truck. “I’ve got a thermos.”

  Their eyes met with a sharp flare of need that made Sam suck in air. It also sent enough lust through her body to break the final chain of morality that had been holding her back. Their petty games didn’t matter anymore. She wanted him, and she was done avoiding it.

  Samantha sat down, sending out a thick spark. “Come here often?”

  Neil blinked, not expecting it, and refused to let his gaze go anywhere but hers.

  Samantha snickered. “Sorry. It seemed like the thing to say.”

  Neil felt his body wake at her inviting demeanor. “It is, if you’re trying to pick me up.”

  “If I were, would it work?”

  She got him again, and Neil chuckled. “That depends on the expectations. I have to know them up front this time.”

  Samantha’s body hummed with desire. “If I were picking you up, I’d say you could expect a couple hours of fun. And that’s it.”

  Off duty until morning, Neil did a visible check on the settling camp. Marc had it under control. “What about them?”

  She shrugged, not caring about that anymore, either. “Let them get their own one night stand.”

  Neil leaned closer instead of chuckling. “What if one night isn’t enough for me?”

  “Then, I wouldn’t mention that again, or you’ll scare me off.” Her profile darkened. “Take what I can give. I’m not wired for forever.”

  Neil sighed. How could he say no? He’d wanted her since that day at the gun class, and it hadn’t changed. “You’re the boss.”

  Samantha ran a finger over the scar on her hand, marveling at how far she’d come from the broken, abused woman who’d been sent here on the heels of a witch.

  “Good.” The feel of his hot gaze on her body wasn’t nearly enough. “I think we should go my tent, where we can be alone.”

  “They’ll see me come.”

  Sam’s breath caught at the image.

  “You’ll let me?”

  Oh, yeah! She nodded with a red face and rocky chest.

  Neil couldn’t stop himself from staring as she stood up, mouth going dry.

  “Give me an hour. If the lights are out, I’ve changed my mind.”

  Samantha left quickly, not waiting for a response. She was sure she had embarrassed herself, but the excited liberation in her stomach was more than worth it. She was truly free now.

  Neil wasn’t sure whether he would go or not. A gentleman wouldn’t, but he wanted her in a way that he’d never experienced before…and he wasn’t a gentleman. He was an Eagle in Adrian’s army, and they went after what they needed, even when the odds appeared insurmountable.

  5

  “Marc to the center fire!”

  “Copy.”

  No longer feeling his mauled wrist thanks to the shot John had given him, Marc’s gaze went over the mess where the pregnant females were being coached by the doctor and Anne while having a snack of leftover tuna casserole. Jennifer was there, too, with Charlie and Becky.

  Angela had told him about the deal Peggy and Hilda made with Kyle, and Marc wasn’t surprised. It was politics, and it went on everywhere. Jennifer was well protected, either way. On top of Angela’s request for him to keep track of her, Kyle had assigned his own security to the teenager, Billy and Charlie.

  Marc refused to consider all of the implications of that, and studied their surroundings instead. The area was brown and dry, despite this being the first official week of summer, but the damn flies are worse, Marc thought, waving at one on his bandaged arm. If they got any more aggressive, the camp would need to carry fly swatters on them all the time. Was an insect swarm the next of nature’s blows?

  “Screw you!”

  Roger Sawyer’s words were brutally loud from across the camp, drawing people from tents and activities.

  “You shouldn’t even be here!”

  Marc and his shadow, Zack, hurried that way.

  6

  “Let it go,” the vet instructed, subtly moving in front of Dale. He had come to the mess to forget about the animals for a while, but here they were again–in human form. “He didn’t mean anything.”

  “Bullshit! He said I was staring at his ass! I’ve never done that!”

  “He made a joke–asked if you’d been looking,” Chris refuted tiredly. “You’re the one who twisted it into something else.”

  “Don’t joke with me about anything–ever,” Roger sneered hatefully toward Dale. “Don’t even talk to me!”

  Chris could feel his temper wanting to take control–he’d had a rough night–but he was also aware of the growing audience. A lynching could happen in this atmosphere. “He won’t, right, Dale?”

  “I think he should say what he wants, to whomever he wants,” another voice spoke up, one that swung attention her way because of how quiet she usually was.

  Tracy took Dale’s left, tired of the bickering when the bosses weren’t around. “You sure shoot your mouth off enough, Roger.”

  “We want homosexuals banned from Safe Haven!”

  “For what reason?” the camp whore asked. She was on Angela’s team now, suddenly a respected member of the camp, but the angry men wisely didn’t bring that up.

  “They’re gay! That’s reason enough,” Tucker defended.

  “No, it isn’t. What crime was committed?” Tracy insisted.

  Tucker wouldn’t answer, and Roger stated, “It’s a sin.”

  “It’s wrong,” Anderson added.

  Marc snorted from behind the crowd, making it part. “So said our old world, and we all know how morally correct they were.”

  “Do you support it all starting up again?” Roger demanded threateningly.

  “Until they commit a crime, they’ll be judged individually, like everyone else in Adrian’s camp.”

  Marc ignored the protests and support, going to the training area instead of lingering for the action.

  Behind him, Zack spoke up. “He told you how it is, now back off.”

  “We don’t take orders from you!”

  “You’re wrong, Sawyer. You always were. That’s why you’ve never been chosen for the Eagles,” Zack sneered. “We’ve known about you and the others who pick on people, but we’ve been waiting for Adrian to get tired of giving you chances to be human to each other. Now that he is, we won’t tolerate it anymore!”

  Marc was aware of the physical fight starting. The camp needed a release, but this had been coming anyway. The Eagles would handle things tonight and Adrian would reclaim a camp that no longer hated their gay population. There wouldn’t be acceptance yet, not so soon, but the vileness spewing from Roger’s mouth would be the last that anyone here let fly without serious consequences.

  “Hey!” Camp radios crackled loudly. “I think we need some ssssongs!”

  Mitch’s slurred declaration had Marc’s feet pointing toward the com truck before he was called. Adrian had been right to leave a plan for the drunkard.

  Marc waved Kevin over. “Set it up, just like Adrian said, then find Matt before you take over the radio. Mitch probably ordered him off of it.” “Been a fun night so far.” Kevin grinned. “You’re doin’ real well.”

  Marc couldn’t help the pride that had him matching Kevin’s good cheer as he continued toward the com truck.

  Those observing had no idea that under his pleased appearance was a Marine set to hand out a punishment. When they saw Marc greet the drunken radioman with a handshake and a smile a few minutes later, muttering started. Up until now, Marc had been doing well, but as he led Mitch toward a picnic table that was being brought to the center fire, there was unease.

  Marc gestured at the table. “Have a seat, there, buddy. Let’s tie one on right. Whadda ya say?”

  Mitch stumbled onto the bench seat. “Soundsss glood to me.”

  Marc j
oined him, twisting the top on a cold beer. He sucked down the foam as Mitch grabbed the bottle that Li Sing set down, shunning the beer.

  “Bring another one, and keep ‘em comin’,” Marc ordered.

  Li bowed as he backed away, expression alive with curiosity. The small group of witnesses parted to let the cook through. Their quiet alertness told Marc that not only was this lesson for Mitch, it was also for the other drinkers here, too. That’s why it was being done publically.

  Marc gestured to Kevin, after the guard finished updating the rookie about to take his post. “We’re gonna be here a while. Get something flowing, will ya?”

  “Calm and slow?”

  How about Highway to Hell, Marc thought sarcastically, nodding. Damn, it would be good to hand this over to Adrian. How did he keep from shooting them all?

  “Are we drinking or w-what?” Mitch demanded, already fairly loaded.

  Marc raised his dripping beer and downed it.

  7

  Neil paused outside Samantha’s brightly lit flap. When she waved him in, and then closed the shade, he went, not caring that Jeremy might be one of those witnessing. At this moment, he also didn’t care that tomorrow night it might be him waiting out there, alone in the dark.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he grunted bitterly. “Coming here to take advantage of you? No problem.”

  “I know what I need, Neil. Right now, that’s you.”

  Her whisper went through him like white heat. When she slid closer and curled her arms around his neck, Neil surrendered without a fight. “What...whatever you want.”

  Samantha smiled softly. “Hold me?”

  Before the war, Neil had slept with less than a dozen women, all quick fumbles in the dark. He’d never held them, had no need to make sure they enjoyed his touch, but this! Samantha was molten warmth against him, and Neil struggled to control his hands when she placed a slow kiss to his jaw. His grip on her waist tightened as she did it again.

  “Been a while?”

  He nodded jerkily, almost flinching when her mouth neared his.

  Samantha shuddered. Hot! So hot! Her lips pressed lightly to the corner of his mouth, absorbing his groan, and her need flared again, brighter this time.

 

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