The Life After War Collection

by Angela White

  “And what do you think we should do with him?”

  “He’ll probably take off as soon as he wakes,” Conner stated. “Charlie and I want to deliver a warning for him to take.”

  Adrian left the teenagers alone, able to feel their anger. When the fight started, these two would be in the thick of it, extracting their pound of flesh. The enemy had no idea how big of a mistake this was. Even the camp members were calling for blood now, many of them lining the tape behind Conner and Charlie. When the peace-loving herd wanted violence, there would be hell to pay.

  13

  “Please…help me.”

  The pitiful whisper made the man seem more human and Sam moved closer, as she always did in her dreams, her nightmares.

  “What can I do?”

  “Kill me,” came the immediate answer.

  Before she could tell him no, her hand raised the gun.

  The man moaned. A wet, liquid sound, she heard the grinding of his jaws as he coughed violently. Scarlet flew from his mouth, ejecting one of his teeth, and reddish drops of agony rolled down his distorted face.

  “Please!” he begged.

  Sam raised the gun again as his gasps for air filled the room. His body was no longer responding to his commands, the radiation destroying him from the inside out.

  The man raised a finger, skin sliding nauseatingly to the side of the bone. “Please…do it now. Don’t know...anything else.”

  She tried to smile as she raised the gun. “I’m Samantha.”

  “Pat...M-Michaels.”

  She smiled in horrified recognition, and when he closed his eyes and tried to nod, she pulled the trigger.

  The shot echoed, his body jumping like Melvin’s had when she hit him with the Taser.

  Sam jerked awake, covered in sweat.

  She sat there, listening to the active camp as she tried to get her breathing under control. Pat Michaels was a ghost she would be haunted by forever.

  Samantha slowly became aware that there was a problem. The voices were loud for this time of night and angry. Footsteps weren’t crunching peacefully, but stomping about in determination. Something had happened.

  Samantha hurried to pull on her boots, mind going to her men. Were they okay?

  Haunted by her nightmare, Samantha wasn’t ready to be grabbed as soon as she came from the tent. Her shriek pierced the air.

  Neil let go as if burnt. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s Neil! Easy.”

  Samantha’s breathing came in gasps.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Nightmare,” she forced out, sending a sheepish look around to let those who’d come running know she wasn’t hurt. “Sorry. I’m jumpy.”

  “With good reason,” Neil stated and quickly filled her in.

  “Until they’re finished sweeping camp, I’d like you to stay close.”

  Sam didn’t have a problem with that. “Where’s…”

  “Right behind you.”

  Samantha turned to find Jeremy helping calm the camp, and felt her heart ease from the knot it had twisted into. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if anything happened to either of her men.

  “I need to check the showers and supply trucks. Come on.”

  Samantha fell in on Neil’s right, giving Jeremy a soft smile as they went by. She could tell he’d been concerned for her too, had probably been waiting for her and Neil to show up so that he could concentrate on his duty. She loved him for it. They may hate the setup, but it was powerful.

  Jeremy caught sight of the female trailing them and rolled his eyes. Didn’t Bridget understand they were Sam’s? Everyone else did.

  14

  Bridget kept after the couple even when they both turned to glare at her. She wanted Neil, wanted them both to know it. The trooper would be hers before too much longer. She had a plan.

  “Neil, can you…”

  “Not now!”

  His tone was sharper than Bridget felt it needed to be and she turned for camp in a huff. “Keep blowing me off, Neil. You won’t sense my hit until it flattens you.”

  Samantha couldn’t stay quiet, not after the way she’d woken. “You need to talk to her if you’ve changed your mind about me.”

  Neil stiffened. He hadn’t thought Samantha knew that he’d accepted the offer from Bridget. “I don’t want her.”

  Samantha did what she didn’t want to. She offered him freedom. “You’re entitled to company when I’m not around, Neil.”

  “And Jeremy?” Neil blurted out. “Is it okay for him, too?”

  “Yes.”

  Neil stopped, hands going to her shoulders. “But will you still want us…me?”

  Samantha ran a gentle hand along Neil’s jaw, but couldn’t lie. “No.”

  “That’s not fair,” he protested half-heartedly. He didn’t want anyone else.

  Samantha sighed. “Yes, it is unfair, but that’s life in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Neil had known deep down and wasn’t as upset as he knew he should be. “I had, as a matter of fact.”

  Neil slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close as he got them moving, trying not to consider what would happen to them if Jeremy found someone else and Samantha refused to be with him anymore. The odds on that were as likely as himself running to someone else. The descendants left their mark on a person, be it man or woman, and there was no escape. If they wanted you, that was all that mattered.

  15

  By dawn, there was a large group of camp people and Eagles waiting around the QZ gate. Clifford hadn’t woken yet from Kenn’s single hit, but they were all waiting for him to. His reception wasn’t going to be nice, but it was the only thing these caged-in camp members could do. They wouldn’t leave the safety of the fences. Conner and Charlie were the only ones to do that, with a heavy escort.

  Clifford began to groan as he woke.

  Conner motioned for Charlie to be ready for an attack. “They train us to shoot first.”

  Clifford hated the two boys on sight, but he seemed to know an attack would get him killed by the Eagles clustered around them.

  “What do you want?” he snarled angrily, standing up. “Kill me and be done with it.”

  “We don’t kill kids,” Charlie stated, trying to get inside his mind. “Why would you work for someone who does?”

  “They don’t kill us,” Clifford spat. “They send us out to…”

  “Die,” Conner interrupted. “They didn’t expect you to accomplish the mission. Your deaths were only meant to scare us.”

  Clifford sneered. “I could have killed her. I had the chance.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  Clifford spotted Angela on the other side of the fence and lunged her way.

  Conner and Charlie hit him at the same time. It was a mental blast that took the rebellious child to the ground.

  “I killed his brother, in Garret’s compound.”

  Charlie glanced up in surprise as he read it from her mind. “You did that?”

  Angela didn’t betray her own waves of guilt. “Yes. This is war.”

  Clifford began foaming at the mouth, held in place by invisible bonds that the camp was staring at in suspicion and wonder. “Let me go! I have to hurt her!”

  Anger surged from the crowd around Angela. She calmed them down with only a few words. “He’s not staying, but it’s not all his fault, either, The same as it wasn’t with Matt. Outside influences change things. You all know that.”

  Angela waved for the Eagles to escort her boys into the QZ gates. It made her nervous to have them outside of it.

  “Let him up. He’ll leave. Won’t you?”

  Clifford tried to resist the voice in mind, her voice. He didn’t want her there!

  “No!” he paused, shaking with the effort of battling her in his mind. “Get out!”

  Angela raised a hand and jerked it toward her.

  Clifford froze like he’d been shot, then slumped over.

  “She killed him.”

&n
bsp; “Is he dead?”

  “He deserves to be!”

  “Did you catch that?”

  “She did that without a knife…”

  Angela lowered her arm and slowly turned to face them. “He’s sleeping. When he wakes up, he won’t remember being here. Let’s pack up and roll.”

  For one instant, no one moved, each making their choices. The casual demonstration of power had been done so openly that shock was the biggest emotion. The bubble around them vanished.

  Unaware of the power shift that could happen here, Charlie gave Clifford a nudge with his foot as he went by, but saved the vicious kick he’d wanted to deliver for his mom’s injuries. It was hard to hate the boy after hearing the ugliness in his mind. It was easier to pity.

  The camp felt vindicated by Charlie’s action, and it snapped them out of the fearful consideration they’d fallen into. With only a few leery looks, they began to go to their tents and vehicles. In the parking area, Sam and the water team left mostly unnoticed.

  Angela didn’t look at any of them, including Adrian. She could feel his rage at her choice to expose herself without any protection plans, but it hadn’t been something she’d meant to do yet. Clifford’s mind was indeed ugly. There was no chance they would ever turn him to their side. Making him forget it all for a while was the best thing she could do. Killing him, a ten-year-old boy, wasn’t considered. Safe Haven didn’t do that to her children, any of them, and Clifford would have been one of theirs if fate hadn’t decreed him to serve the other side.

  “What’ll happen to him?” Charlie asked.

  “They’ll take him back when he remembers who he is and reaches their bunker,” Adrian said. “They don’t have many as angry as that one. They’ll want him.”

  “Will he be punished for failing?”

  “Of course. Our enemy has no mercy.”

  16

  “Why are we stopping?” Samantha asked groggily.

  Neil put it in park. “We’re a mile away. We’ll go in at first light so we can evaluate the danger.”

  Samantha shrugged sleepily. “Makes sense.”

  “You okay?”

  Samantha opened her door as the guards gave an all clear sign. She’d fallen asleep not long they’d after piled into the trucks. The nightmare had drained her.

  “Yeah, just tired.”

  “We’ll get you in a tent and fed, ASAP.”

  Samantha snorted in protest. “I’ll take a bedroll like everyone else and you’re not allowed to cook. I know all about you.”

  Neil chuckled. “I was the king of the microwave. Never used flame.”

  “It shows. I need to do some…searching.”

  “Stay in the perimeter.”

  Samantha didn’t answer, slowly wandering westward.

  Neil waved two of his team with her. She had a job to do, too.

  Samantha sank down to the sloppy ground, ignoring the shadows and the mud, listening. The wind gusted against her, cool and dry now, and the blades of grass trembled delicately under her fingertips.

  Waves of energy, of life and also of death came through the ground, powerful and unstoppable. Despite all the damage that humankind had inflicted, mother earth had woken and was trying to heal herself–violently where necessary and even where it wasn’t.

  “What do you feel, Sammi?”

  Jeremy’s soft question brought an unhappy expression to her face. “More death. There was an earthquake, I think, in the west.”

  “The west?” Jeremy repeated incredulously. She could sense things that far away?

  “The tremors are still rolling out, sending vibrations through the earth’s crust. I can’t pinpoint it without equipment, but it’s too strong to be from the coast and too weak to be from the New Madrid line.”

  Jeremy had his notebook out. “Worst case?”

  “It’s Yellowstone. If that happens, we only have a few weeks until the winds carry the ashes our way. You know what that is?”

  Jeremy’s mind raced, bringing up history channel specials viewed under calmer days. “Glass, right? Tiny shards?”

  “Yes. We breathe it, we die. If Yellowstone blows, we’ll have to hole up immediately.”

  “It’s okay,” Jeremy tried to soothe as he finished writing her notes. “She’ll make plans for it.”

  “You’ll tell her as soon as we get home.”

  Jeremy ran a calming hand over Samantha’s hair. “Right now, if you think I should.”

  Samantha relaxed at being believed. She still hadn’t gotten over those scars. “It’s okay for now. Just don’t forget to tell her.”

  “I won’t.” Jeremy gently took her by the arm. “Come on. Neil’s got the food ready.”

  “I told him he wasn’t allowed to cook!” Sam groaned.

  “So do the rest of us,” Jeremy joked. “We always offer to trade, but he insists that he’ll get better with practice.”

  “That makes sense,” Samantha caved.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Jeremy snorted. “It’s been seven months. The taste never changes.”

  “Burnt?” Sam guessed, leaning against his heat.

  “Shit,” Jeremy replied promptly.

  Samantha’s laughter floated over the wastelands and brought life with it. Eggs hatched, bugs dug their way from the ground, and birds broke into song.

  Jeremy missed all of it, busy thinking about getting her settled, but Samantha noticed and was overjoyed to have nature respond. Her gifts had evolved into power that she’d never dreamed to be honored with.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “For what?” Jeremy asked.

  Samantha grinned. “Not you, Fate. I’m glad I’m here, that I am who I am now. The war changed everything.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Shadow Riders

  July 24th

  1

  “Our lookouts at the reservoirs gave the ‘all clear’. No signs of soldiers, Marc, or anyone else.”

  Quinn wrote it in the logbook they were keeping. “What about the avenues of approach?”

  Shane grimaced. “Roughly half. You expecting him soon?”

  Quinn hesitated. What he said here and now, they would hold him to. He looked around at the waiting men, recognizing their hope and their fear. “You guys have met Marc, right? He doesn’t answer to me. And yes, he’s alive. I repeat, you’ve met him, right?”

  There were grins and relieved snorts at that, breaking the tension and reminding them who they were talking about. They’d seen him in the cage and on missions. Marc was a badass.

  “He’ll come when he’s supposed to,” Quinn added another layer of faith. “Angela’s behind us. No way he doesn’t make it to Safe Haven and we’re his direct path to there. Now go get those AAs covered. I want it all online when he shows up.”

  No one protested the order. Quinn was a steady leader and the danger hadn’t reached them yet.

  Once he was alone, Quinn went to the window, looking west. “Where are you?”

  As if conjured, the radio on the table crackled.

  “Are we 5-by, Quinn?”

  Quinn flew to the radio, beating the other men who came from the hallway.

  Those suddenly energized males ran off to inform everyone that they’d gotten a call.

  “You know it,” Quinn sent, grinning from ear to ear. He controlled the urge to babble in relief like a schoolboy.

  “Send a rider,” Marc’s weary tone ordered. “The fighting will start soon. It’s time for Safe Haven to make the calls. Adrian will know what it means.”

  Quinn wrote it down, hoping for more, but there was only a parting warning.

  “Watch your six. It’s been way too quiet here.”

  Quinn took it to heart, snapping into full alert. “You got it, Boss.”

  Quinn immediately went to draft a rider. After two weeks, he was sure Angela was ready for news.

  2

  The first thing Marc’s group saw upon leaving tribal lands was the shadow of a lone woman
standing at a gravesite. Surrounded by a dozen crude markers, she didn’t react as his group of twenty approached her.

  The woman wore a long cloak. With the hood down, Marc spotted rough scars set in weathering skin. What had this one been through? He held up a hand for the men to wait and slowly moved closer, sure she’d heard them. It was hard not to notice new sounds in this quiet world.

  When she didn’t turn, Marc swung down from his horse, hands loose and ready. Assassins came in any gender.

  He came to her right, picking out the shapes of guns on her hips and a wrist-blade on her arm. It was such an instant reminder of Angela that Marc froze for a second. God, I miss you.

  Kendle knew danger was on her once again, but she was too tired to run or try hiding. She wasn’t even sure she had the strength to talk. Her eyes went over the markers, lingering on Luke’s grave. He’d known it was coming and she hadn’t believed him, hadn’t stopped it.

  “Are you…” Marc had started to ask if she was okay, but he caught sight of the disfigurements that lined nearly every inch of her exposed skin and couldn’t force it out. She’d survived whatever horror the war had thrown at her, like the rest of them, but she wouldn’t ever really be okay again.

  “I’m Marc Brady.”

  “Kendle.”

  Her voice held a thousand years of pain and Marc felt like Adrian must, when he could offer some hope. “There’s a refugee camp in the east. Safe Haven is a good place to heal and find peace.”

  Kendle’s rage was instant. Marc could feel it over the wind and through his clothes even before she turned to glare at him.

  “I will never have peace. There’s only blood for me now.”

  Glowing red met his gaze and the words, though striking, didn’t matter. Marc stared at his kindred, a tortured soul who held secrets that matched his own. He gently took her arm. “If you want to fight, I have room.”

  Kendle allowed him to lead her toward the group of Indians, not betraying any surprise of seeing so many men in one place. It didn’t matter to her. Nothing did except satisfying this lust for blood.

  “She is ill,” Red Stone stated, moving back.