The Life After War Collection

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The Life After War Collection Page 228

by Angela White


  “I won’t,” Jeremy vowed, gently lifting her into his arms. “You make sure we’re left alone.”

  “Got it.”

  Samantha rested her head on Jeremy’s shoulder, wishing she felt well enough to enjoy it. The migraine had been eased by an aching spine. She no longer felt the throbbing in her temples or the bones in her legs.

  “This sucks,” she complained, making Jeremy smile. She could feel it.

  “What else can we do for you? Adrian wasn’t very clear.”

  Samantha shuddered as pain lanced down her nerves, vibrating into her hips. “Heat, I think, and then sleep. Maybe I can stay under while it passes.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll ask Angela about a sedative.”

  “Don’t knock me out!” Sam instructed sharply. “I don’t want to be a junkie, either. You be careful with me.”

  Jeremy pressed his lips to hers in comfort. She’d told him of her addiction fears. He drew back to speak in the temporary silence afterward. “I love you. So does Neil. You’re safe with us.”

  Sam shuddered again, this time in relief. “I know, and I…”

  Jeremy kissed her again, a little harder, and felt her take note of him, of his body.

  He got them moving, suddenly glad of the drizzle. It was keeping people in their tents.

  Samantha hated being afraid, hated feeling out of control. She clutched Jeremy’s shoulder and mentally bolstered herself. Once again, she was going to prove how different she was. The promise of a new gift was little to her. She hadn’t mastered the old ones yet and it was a bad time to be out of communication with nature. Weather reports would keep them alive.

  “Stop worrying,” Jeremy insisted. “She has it covered.”

  Samantha wanted to believe that, but it was hard.

  “This is what he meant by fighting,” Jeremy started working on distracting her. “You have to accept what’s coming, embrace it if you can, and then get with your team.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Sam muttered.

  Jeremy did.

  4

  After a quick shower, Marc’s feet carried him around the sleeping camp and eventually brought him to the QZ, where the medical tent was dimly lit. He wasn’t surprised to find a shadow in the flap.

  “Thought you couldn’t be on that for another week?”

  Adrian brandished the cane and then planted it where he could use it for support. “I’m not.”

  Marc took in the beads of sweat, the rapid breaths.

  “Is there anything I can get you?”

  “Someone else’s hip.”

  Marc forced a chuckle. “Can’t help you there.”

  Marc moved on, checking out the entire area before going to Angie’s tent. It was now in the center of camp, where Adrian’s had been.

  Adrian went inside and picked up his book, trying to control the urge to leave. He wouldn’t make it far, not yet.

  “We think you should go out tomorrow, let the camp know she has your support.”

  Adrian glared up from his book as Jax and Lee came in. “She doesn’t need me out there messing up her plans.” He turned the page. “Besides, I’m about to discover if Bella kills Jacob. Do you mind?”

  Lee and Jax left the medical tent with large scowls, missing Angela standing in the shadows, listening.

  She ducked into the tent. “Why are you sending them away?”

  Adrian lay back on the cot. “Safe Haven can’t have two leaders right now. They have to come to you.”

  “And it’s easier that way, for you to give up, right?” Angela stung him sharply. “I know what you’re planning. I won’t allow it.’

  Adrian didn’t answer.

  Angela grew angrier. “If I have to have John sedate you, I will. Stay in the medical tent. Don’t leave it without an escort.”

  “What the hell are you doing talking to him like that?!” Kenn roared, disturbing half the Quarantine Zone as he came inside. “This is his camp!”

  Angela tugged Adrian’s blanket up to his shoulders. “Tell him that. He’s planning to give himself up to save the rest of us.”

  Kenn gaped, mouth dropping open and Angela left him there to work on Adrian. She had rounds to finish and plans to go over. It felt like she was missing something and she hated that. It would cause problems that she couldn’t afford.

  “And where are the problems I’m counting on?” she questioned lowly, staring at the main camp in concentration.

  Angela was satisfied with the answers the witch gave and continued her rounds. All the pots were boiling nicely now.

  5

  “They found the bodies. Tucker and Anderson are dead.”

  “Bring them home. Tell the team to do it openly,” Angela answered Kevin’s quiet words. “We’ll need a distraction about then. The camp will think Kyle did it. We may have to prove that to them.”

  Kevin wrote it down, worried. “Will they riot over something like this?”

  “Only if someone isn’t held responsible. They’ll give me a little time to handle it.”

  “How would you…if he did?”

  Angela’s heart clenched. “The same as we would any other killer who doesn’t serve our greater good.”

  Kevin loved and hated the answer. “Should we tell the camp yet?”

  “No,” Angela ordered. “They’ll find out at exactly the right time.”

  Kevin took that to mean she’d foreseen this and hadn’t chosen to interfere. He wanted to ask why, but remembered his place at the last minute. He would ask Marc instead.

  Angela turned to inspect him. “At some point, Kevin, you’ll have to decide if you want this job. Your loyalty to me has to come first. If you feel the need to go behind me, instead of sucking up the courage to ask, perhaps someone else would be more appropriate.”

  She left him with that ringing in his ears.

  Do I want it? Kevin asked himself.

  Maybe, came the reluctant answer, and that wasn’t good enough, was it? Suddenly depressed, Kevin went to relay her instructions.

  Angela stopped as the tall weeds rustled and Dog padded toward her. In his golden gaze was every secret she had and every lie Marc had told.

  Angela waved her shadows off. “Give us a few minutes.”

  Dog stopped by her, waiting for her to react. He’d come to get it over with before someone noticed her avoiding him. Marc had commented on it earlier.

  What will it take?

  Angela hated the cold greed in her answer, but it had to happen. Your life, for my son’s.

  I would make that sacrifice willingly.

  Angela tried to hold onto the anger she felt. She couldn’t let the wolf know, either. He’d go straight to Marc.

  “You’ll work with the ants, the cats, and anything else I come up with.”

  Dog appeared to frown at her, but didn’t protest. Instead, he offered another concession.

  I’d help with your plan. Dog’s voice in her mind deepened. The real plan.

  Angela was gathering fighters for the battle and she agreed coolly, “I’ll find a job for you that helps.”

  Dog waited for more, hoping to regain the friendship they’d once had, and Angela snapped out in frustration. “I could use a few minutes alone if you don’t mind!”

  Dog sadly padded into the main camp and Angela stifled her guilt. There would be time to ask forgiveness after they’d survived.

  “I wanna talk to you!”

  Angela turned at the drunken slur, expecting Mitch.

  Slap!

  The blow brought tears to her eyes and knocked her backward into the mud.

  “Come here!” Roger demanded, clutching at her jacket. His breath ran over her in thick waves. Whiskey and vomit.

  Angela gagged, hands flailing for her holster as he jerked her from the ground and held her in the air.

  “Can’t make rules if you ain’t alive,” he said softly, eyes dazed with drunken hatred. “Come here, Boss Lady.”

  Angela struggled to get her arms fre
e, to reach her gun, and the witch bled through in furious hunger.

  Let me have him!

  “No!” Angela protested, twisting to butt her head into his chin.

  Roger let go and staggered backward as the sound of sloppy running echoed through the fog. He tripped and went down, hand fumbling for his gun.

  Angela lunged forward and kicked him in the face.

  “Agg!” The bitter man fell to his side, clutching his bleeding mouth.

  “Stay down!” Angela ordered, feeling the hunger rise. “Stay down and be banished. Get up and you die!”

  Sobered by pain, Roger shoved to his feet with blood dripping from his nose and mouth.

  “Gonna hurt you for that,” he reproached, no longer swaying as he neared.

  Angela ducked his lunge, but hit his mud-covered boot and went sprawling on her stomach.

  Roger took advantage and dropped his full weight on her, shoving her face into the mud.

  Angela sent her anger out as mud flew into her mouth.

  Roger stiffened as if he’d been shot.

  Angela shoved him off and struggled to her feet, coughing.

  Roger dropped to his knees before her, face draining of color.

  Blood began to roll from the corner of his mouth, and Angela lunged forward to take what she’d secretly been lusting to do again since Little Rock.

  Only three Eagles witnessed Angela taking the man’s life.

  Her sniper was one of them, and Shawn would never have said a word after witnessing the entire battle. He’d been the one to call Marc and Kyle when he couldn’t get a clear shot. Those two men also had good reasons to hold silent, and no one did more than breathe until she’d finished and left the shadowy area with a spring in her step.

  Marc spoke first, “I did it after he attacked her.”

  Marc pulled one of his Colts and fired it into the head of the shriveled corpse.

  He was on Angela’s heels as footsteps flooded the area.

  Marc swept her into his arms, almost running. “Act hurt.”

  Angela didn’t have to act. She was pretty sure Roger had knocked one of her teeth out. It wouldn’t show, but it hurt more than the cut lip, scrapes, or awful feel of gritty mud in her throat.

  “What happened?”

  “Nof idea,” Angela said, spitting muddy blood over his shoulder. “Doug pisseth him off wif fat shove. I made a good tharget. I lafed.”

  Marc scowled the entire time John checked her over, ignoring Adrian and Conner, who stayed in the wing of the medical tent and observed angrily.

  “She’ll live,” John stated, hating those words. “Not all the roots broke on that tooth, either. It might heal if she gets enough calcium or we get a dentist soon.”

  Angela sighed, taking the pain pill and the cold rag. Outside, the camp was being calmed by the Eagles. Angela went that way wearily. She’d hoped to sleep for a while, but that was out of the question now.

  Marc stayed on her heels as she talked with the camp members and assured them she was fine. She expressed sincere regret at Roger’s death, but reminded them those were the rules in Safe Haven. Self Defense was not only okay in this camp, it was expected. Her cuts, bruises, bandages and gritty voice went a long way in angering the camp on her behalf. With Marc, it only made him more furious with her.

  Marc stayed close as she made sure everything was good with the camp, boiling. She’d waved off her protection. She could have been killed, again. When they were alone, she would hear about that and all the reckless shit that she thought she could get away with now that she was the leader.

  6

  “Head that off.”

  Kenn slowly did as Adrian bid him. He, too, thought Angela could use a scold, but by the time he got to Marc’s side, he’d realized that Adrian was right.

  “I need a minute, Brady.”

  Marc stopped as Angela kept going. “Make it quick.”

  Kenn waited for her to get out of earshot. “Leave her alone. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Stay out of this!” Marc snarled.

  Kenn was careful not to get in Marc’s way as he stalked toward the camper Angela had gone into.

  “She needs to hear it–every word.”

  “I agree, but not from you.”

  Marc spun to fight and Kenn raised his voice a bit to get through the anger. “Would you talk to Adrian that way?”

  “No.”

  “You can’t do it to her, either. You’ll undermine every bit of authority she has with the Eagles.”

  “Meaning?” Marc growled, pausing.

  “Meaning you don’t get to treat her like the woman who sucked you off last night. She’s a leader of men, Adrian’s chosen successor. Don’t forget your place.”

  Marc left Kenn before he hit him, going to the medical camper where Angela was now getting an update from John. He went to the shadows under the window to smoke and stew as he waited.

  Their voices came straight down to him as if he’d planned to listen.

  “You have a batch already?”

  “Pain works miracles for motivation,” John half-joked. It had been a scramble, but the first beaker of medicinal hemp was waiting to be tested. He had no idea if he’d done it correctly.

  “You’ll use yourself and adjust from there?”

  “Yes, but you should know I don’t expect it to be successful. Probably, I’ll be so high I can’t work.”

  “How will you know if it is working? Do you need some kind of special equipment?”

  “Adrian got it for me a while ago. I hadn’t had much to try in it.”

  “If it works, do we have enough?”

  “I won’t know that until we find out how long it lasts. This can’t put it into remission…I don’t think.”

  “Cancer is very adaptable,” Angela agreed. “But at least we’ll have a way to knock it back for you and all the others. That’s our first goal–keeping you alive.”

  “Two of them are approaching my levels of pain. If it does work on me, do I have your permission to offer it to them?”

  “Yes and good luck.”

  “Thank you, for this and other things. You’re doing well.”

  “I hope you’ll still think so this time tomorrow. Any smaller issues I haven’t heard about yet?”

  “A few cases of super lice in the new people, but that’s it. Millie’s working on them now.”

  “Sign of other infestations, like bed bugs?”

  John was glad he didn’t have to add to her stress levels with a different answer. “So far, no, and it’s odd. They should be flocking to us when we camp, clinging to clothes as we gather supplies. I can’t explain it yet.”

  Angela tried not to worry over it, though something that could take out bedbugs was definitely a threat to the camp. Those little bastards would be around longer than Twinkies or roaches.

  “You have a disinfecting day planned?”

  “Not for a few weeks. We did the tents and main equipment right before Little Rock.”

  “What about breathing trouble? The skycrap looks thicker now that we’ve had rain again.”

  John pushed his glasses up. “No big spikes, just steady numbers. By the time you leave this country, you’ll need crates of inhalers.”

  Angela stared at him. “You know. Adrian?”

  “Common sense, little Lady. Common sense. This land is dying and the people right along with it.”

  Angela’s mouth opened in spite of the heavy chore she had to perform now. “Why were you brought here, John?”

  John slowly lowered his glasses, voice the gravest that Angela had ever heard.

  “I thought it was to protect Anne, to provide for her future.”

  “And now?”

  John’s eyes glinted with furious resignation. “I came here to die.”

  Angela didn’t correct him. The feeling was thick.

  John smiled bitterly. “It does something, right? To help the camp?”

  Angela nodded slowly. “I
think so, yes. It was hazy. There was a lot I couldn’t see.”

  “You’ve come to make arrangements.” John sank down in the chair, fight going out of him all at once. He had hoped the hemp drinks would buy a little time.

  Angela took a seat on the bed next to him, hand going to his in sad comfort. “Do you have any last wishes, John?”

  The older man grimaced. “A million of them, but only one that matters.”

  Angela leaned close. “Tell me, and it’ll be done.”

  Marc held the door open for her a bit later, and those haunted blue eyes locked onto his.

  Anger faded under her pain. He opened his arms and she slammed against his chest, unable to hold in the sobs.

  Marc lifted her into his arms and went to their tent.

  7

  “Are we okay, Angie?”

  Happy the painkiller was working, Angela paused during taking her boot off. “Sure, Brady. We’re lying, keeping secrets, and pretending to be the perfect couple. How could we not be okay?”

  Marc winced. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Angela refused to take pity on him yet. “Neither do I.”

  She slid under the blanket, but he hesitated, unsure it was all right to sleep yet. She felt pretty upset.

  “Come to bed. This is going to be a big day.”

  Marc climbed in with her, listening when the demon said to hold her close.

  Angela melted into Marc’s embrace and willed the next twenty-four hours to hurry up. After that, she and Marc would be on the same page again. There was something he had to do first, and he wouldn’t, if he knew the outcome.

  Marc pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “I missed you.”

  Angela sighed contentedly. “Same here. You wanna fool around or something? I’ve got a little bit of reserve for that.”

  Marc tightened his grip a bit. “Sleep, baby-cakes. We can fool around tomorrow.”

  Angela bit her lip. If things went badly tomorrow, there wouldn’t be a later for them, not in Safe Haven’s light.

  Easy, the witch soothed, eager for her to sleep so that she could be with Marc’s demon. They were making powerful combinations on their journeys, gathering a reserve. When the time came, they would both be useful.

 

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