by Angela White
Chapter Thirteen
Lessons
1
Marc settled onto the stool outside the cell, observing the would-be assassin’s waking thoughts.
What happened? Oh… My leg!
The groaning started before the man’s lids opened and Marc realized he’d done too much damage for coherent thinking. He quickly shoved through the man’s layers to hopefully gain access to any plans that he and his friends had made, but there was only the bright glows of pain and addiction.
Marc narrowed in on the sallow skin and twitchy muscles as he became aware of not being alone in the brig anymore. Without prisoners, there hadn’t been any need to waste workers to patrol it. Chauncey’s little cubby was right next to a sentry post now.
Marc glanced over at Morgan.
Morgan held up a small syringe of clear liquid.
Both men braced as the prisoner’s eyes flew open.
“My leg!”
Morgan shut the door as the shouting resumed. Then he joined Marc in front of the cell. “I’ll do it.”
“You have Kyle’s old job,” Marc guessed.
Morgan shrugged. “It’s your old job, too.”
Marc understood he wasn’t allowed to pretend that he was above this after doing it for most of his life. “Yeah. Stand down.”
Morgan’s respect for Marc went up. Adrian had preferred to let his flunkies handle the wet work and the cleanup. Morgan didn’t mind the latter, but a leader had to be willing to do the former. It came with the job.
Marc rushed into the cell and slapped the syringe into the easiest place to reach–the killer’s neck.
The assassin groaned loudly, still holding his shattered knee. “Please…”
Marc pushed the plunger without guilt or sympathy. He stood over the man as the drugs began to take effect. The shouts and moans fell to muttering and a thick stream of drool within a minute. Marc didn’t know what it was, but the drug worked quickly. Two minutes after injecting his assassin, the man had stopped moving. His breathing quit next and Marc exited the cell.
Morgan wondered at Marc’s thoughts as he filled out a death report from the cabinet. Adrian had always exhibited signs of unhappiness and guilt after moments like this one.
“I’m not him,” Marc reminded without anger.
Morgan shrugged. “Still, if you ever need to talk about the things we do, that’s also part of my job.”
“Thanks.”
Morgan watched him, assuming Marc was going to get a small crew for body disposal. Morgan clicked his mic. This was their first death in Safe Haven since Angela had been hurt, so he wasn’t sure what would be done with the body. Burning it would produce a harsh smell that many of the camp members would recognize. Kyle would know how to handle it.
Kyle met Marc as he came from the brig. “We had some trouble in the bottom passage.” Kyle handed him the images he’d snapped with the new camera that all Eagles were now required to carry.
“Do we have someone patrolling entrances that I don’t know about?”
Marc studied the Polaroid images intently as he strode toward the supply compartment. “I don’t, but we both know I’m not in the loop on a lot of things.”
“Yeah, about that,” Kyle began. “The Eagles want to call a meeting about Angie. I put them off a bit with the usual story of her not being safe, but it isn’t going to hold them.”
“What’s the biggest beef?” Marc asked, kneeling down to grab duct tape and a garbage bag from the supply shelf. “Being alone with the traitor or not being here to protect them if something happens?”
“Neither of those,” Kyle told him, following–curiously now. There had obviously been trouble while he and the crew were burning the mess at the train station. “No one likes how it’s affecting you.”
Marc paused. “Me?”
Kyle took the bag and tape from Marc’s hand. “Yes, and that reminds me. Leaders don’t do cleanup, even if they made the mess. I told Adrian that. Kevin told it to Angela. That’s how this setup rolls best. Now get back to business. We want her home.”
Kyle went to the brig, assuming the problem had occurred there since that’s where Marc had been coming from. The guard would tell him.
Marc stared in surprise. He’d always assumed Adrian hadn’t handled things himself because he was a giant douche. With Angela, Marc had witnessed her guilt and her exhaustion while trying to keep up and he’d been forgiving. He had never once considered that the Eagles insisted on the leader’s hands looking clean.
Why would they do that? he wondered, going to the bottom tunnel to examine the scene. He had a suspicion on who was responsible for that. Why are they hiding our actions?
Marc’s demon was still angry and didn’t answer.
Quit acting like a bitch! Marc snarled furiously. Help me or go away!
That negative presence resentfully vanished.
Marc took a deep breath as a small group of camp members came through the level to get to the ladder for the top floor. He plastered boredom on his profile and slowed his steps. There was no need to panic everyone with his possible schizophrenia.
Marc zipped up his jacket as he reached the lower level, suddenly hoping Angela was warm enough. He hadn’t sent much gear with her in order to keep the kit light, but also so that Adrian wouldn’t have much afterwards. He hadn’t wanted to outfit his enemy, but now he was feeling guilty because Angie might be suffering. Fighting the urge to call out to them when he reached the very bottom, Marc flipped on his belt light and jogged through the darkness for his daily workout while on the way to play detective. Later, he would contemplate what he wanted from his time as a boss of this refugee camp.
He wasn’t like Angela and Adrian, who felt they needed to save each and every life. Marc still disliked many of the inhabitants here. The thought of taking all of them on a boat to a deserted island had never set well with him. Now that he was in charge, Marc could do something about that. A lot of the herd wouldn’t like it. They preferred Angela making those choices, but the way things felt, she wasn’t coming here any time soon. They would all have to adjust to his methods and values, or stay here and rot. There wasn’t a choice beyond those two. The crimes of their previous leaders wouldn’t be his. Not now, not ever.
2
“I want to be an Eagle.”
Joseph stiffened at the adamant tone. “I told you the Eagles were closed to new members over a month ago, when all the refugees flooded our gates. When Marc’s ready, it will be reopened and then you’ll get your chance.”
Gus stared back suspiciously. “You sure it ain’t cause we’re…”
Joseph punched the man in his giant throat, doing absolutely no damage. It didn’t stop his warning. “We don’t do things like that! We’re the good guys.” Joseph stomped from the training room, subtly rubbing his hand. “Someone else will be by to guide you on your tour. With that attitude, it won’t be me.”
Marc, listening from the shadows, stepped in front of Joseph as he came through the beaded curtains of the small training compartment. “Problem?”
Joseph jumped, nearly shouting in surprise.
Marc grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. The wolfman was upset.
“I handled it like you would have,” Joseph complained, trying to defend his actions.
“You handled it like Adrian would have,” Marc corrected. “I do wonder if violence is the right solution to get your point across.”
Marc left the confused man standing in the drafty corridor, now unsure if he’d done things right. Was there a better way than Adrian’s?
Marc was glad the man was weighing that and tossed a bit of advice over his shoulder. “Missa would probably like to help you with your goals. Ask her to join.”
Joseph stared after Marc, stomach a ball of fire. He and Missa were getting close, but it wasn’t romantic. They had too many obstacles in the way. Missa was terrified of most men and her white skin next to his black shade already drew snide comments whe
n they went on walks together or ate at the same table. Safe Haven boasted equal to the masses, but Joseph knew better. As soon as he started to date Missa openly, there would be trouble for both of them. Equality was for whites, as usual.
“I wish you wouldn’t think that way.”
Joseph spun around to find Jennifer coming up the hall. She was obviously trailing Marc, providing protection while Angela couldn’t.
Jennifer halted in front of the black man, admiring his neat appearance. Few of the males here cared about things like that when there was so much work to be done.
Joseph stayed silent, certain he was about to be scolded. He didn’t think this would get him banished, but he was nervous as he waited.
Jennifer realized normal conversation wasn’t going to break through his layers of icy denial and past prejudices. She sighed, trying anyway. “We’re all adapting as best we can. Surviving the apocalypse was hard–for every race. Isn’t it time to put those awful tragedies aside so that we can have a future now?”
Before he could answer, Jennifer grabbed his wrist and connected their minds. “This is what I see for our citizens.”
Joseph controlled his fear and churning guts to watch the vision. It was amazingly detailed, allowing no disbelief as he saw the people he’d just yelled at, punched. They were full Eagles in the future, with heavy jobs and all the respect they could carry.
“Now view what happens without you leading this moment in our new history,” she intoned eerily.
The vision changed to not a single dark profile in the camp. It appeared as though all other races had been removed. Even the cook was different.
“Segregation now is possible, if that is what people truly want,” Jennifer warned. “But this time, it will never revert.” She stepped around the shocked man. “You are a leader, Joseph. It’s time to act like one. Do your duty.”
Jennifer didn’t wait to see if he would. Joseph was a good man. He would come around and help ease the occasional racial issue that came up. Once those people had been here a while, they would understand that race meant nothing to Safe Haven’s administrators. Hard work and loyalty, on the other hand, were omnipotent and could lead to anywhere, even the main council seats. All Joseph had to do was toil and sweat harder than he ever had. Jennifer was positive that he would. Even those who stirred the pot often actually wanted it to be over.
They want everyone to be the same, her demon volunteered. Differences are shunned in society.
After a while, Safe Haven will fix that ugliness in the population, Jennifer told her demon. The atrocities of the past will not be repeated anymore. We’re the new future and it is made up of all races.
Her demon didn’t answer.
Marc and Jennifer found Cynthia waiting at the security cubby.
Jennifer immediately turned in the opposite direction.
Marc dropped the papers on the desk and faced the reporter. “What can I do for you on this fine–”
“Why didn’t she take me as her XO?” Cynthia closed the door to Marc’s security cubby. “Is it because she wants my child?”
Marc tried to scoff, but he was aware of being mentally probed by the baby. “No.” He slammed his walls down, glaring a bit. “What’s your problem?”
Cynthia felt the anger of her child as Marc’s threatening vibes surrounded her, but she had to know the truth. “Why are you lying to me?”
Marc perched on the edge of the table, sighing. “I don’t know why she vetoed you. I haven’t asked her. I’m certain you can understand that your friendship with her wasn’t top on my list.”
Cynthia didn’t even blink at the sarcasm. “She’s punishing me and I don’t know why. I’ve done my duty and then some.”
“Yes, you have,” Marc agreed. “But you’re blowing it now with wild accusations and a bad attitude.” Marc studied her, tone softening. “I haven’t forgotten that you saved her life. I have work for you. Just give me time to get my feet set in this job, okay?”
Soothed a bit, the reporter asked, “Can I interview the teams for the next edition of the Quest Chronicles? I’ve heard about fights between the old Eagles and the rookie soldiers.”
Marc felt a flicker of concern, but he couldn’t detect a reason for it. “Yes. Leave Jennifer alone.”
“Why?” Cynthia demanded angrily. “Protecting Angie’s pet?”
“Nope,” Marc replied, sliding by her to the exit. “Protecting you. Attack Jennifer the way you did me and one of you will end up in the medical bay. We both know who it will be.”
Marc continued down the hall to do rounds, snickering mentally at the image.
“But the other will be dead,” Cynthia muttered, going in the opposite direction that Marc had taken. She rubbed her upset stomach, breathing deeply. She didn’t doubt the warnings the baby had been sending. She also didn’t think she and Daryl had been placed on duty in the bottom levels by accident. Daryl did get to escape with his Special Forces team, granting him a reprieve, but Cynthia was only on the top levels now when she went for a walk. She had no interest in the reading or television rooms.
“Something’s going on,” she complained, shoving by a group of new citizens who were being given a tour of this level by Joseph. “When I find out what it is, I’ll blow this place wide open with the truth.”
Standing nearby at the security booth, Kevin and Jeff both frowned. They’d been put on duty down here by Marc, both happy to feel like Eagles again, but it was boring. They hadn’t realized Cynthia was also down here until now.
“Put it in the book,” Kevin ordered tonelessly.
Jeff did it without commenting, respect for Kevin increasing. The reporter hadn’t even glanced at Kevin, despite the various meals and moments that had already put the pair in the same area together. She didn’t look well and now she sounded like there was a problem. Fresh from the wastelands, Jeff and Kevin knew danger when they spotted it. Cynthia was trouble again and they had no idea how that had happened. When they left, she had been a hero.
Kevin considered sorting through people to locate someone he could trust to fill him in, and then chose not to. He honestly didn’t want to be a part of the drama anymore. He still wanted to be with Cynthia and maybe he could have adjusted to being a stepfather if he hadn’t been gone for a month. Now that he had returned, it was clear that he didn’t belong here now. He wanted more from his future than to help raise a descendant’s offspring or to become a top Eagle.
“I’m not staying.”
Jeff wasn’t surprised. He and Kevin had gravitated together out of pain and boredom. Neither of those emotions was tolerable inside Safe Haven’s harsh walls. The reminders were constant.
“You?”
“No,” Jeff denied. “Even the crazy lady is better than this.”
Kevin chuckled, but he concurred. Sally was nuts. The people here were fanatics.
“You think so?” Jeff questioned in surprise. He hadn’t ever felt that way.
“I don’t know,” Kevin answered. “Just feels wrong somehow. I’m still trying to determine why.”
“Same here,” Jeff told him. “Beer after duty? We’ll talk.”
“You know it.”
3
I wonder if Conner misses me.
Candy looked around guiltily to detect if there was anyone nearby who might have caught the thought. When she spotted no one, she relaxed and continued to contemplate as she shucked corn with the other camp members. This was the final harvest of warm weather food from the gardens. There was a small group of men and women here, but none of them were a descendant.
Candy pictured Conner out questing with Kendle for a boat. He was too busy to miss her, like Theo was too busy with the deaf chick to have time for her now. Lee was gone, Angela wasn’t here, and Candy had never felt close to Marc or Adrian. Despite being surrounded by people, she was alone.
Spine aching, Candy leaned against the stone wall and shut her lids for a short break. She had volunteered for this evening sh
ift and could leave when she wanted, but she had nowhere else to go, nowhere to be. Eagle training hadn’t resumed, but Candy wasn’t sure if that would satisfy her either. She wanted to talk to Conner. When she asked herself why, the answer wasn’t comforting.
Because he needs me, and I need that.
Candy kept working, not joining in with the jokes or conversation. She didn’t have much in common with these happy camp members. And Safe Haven was happy right now. Angela’s sacrifice had removed the threats and returned the calm that they had all come to expect from this refugee camp. It was great.
Jennifer walked by with her infant and her man, all of them smiling or chattering happily and Candy’s heart clenched. It was also lonely. She didn’t know how much more of the peace and joy that she could stand.
4
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m cool.” Jeremy forced a sickly grin. “Frosty, like a cone.”
He’d spent the night here, sobering up and doing his duty. He could only hope that Marc hadn’t told anyone. Sam didn’t act like she knew.
Samantha scanned the gauges and monitors. “Some dwellers are being sedated. You’re doing great.”
She hoped it helped Jeremy and the others to know that they weren’t alone in their fears about the mountain. Everyone knew they could all be buried and crushed at any time, but most of them also knew these tunnels had been here for thousands of years and were actually very safe. The mind liked to play tricks. For Jeremy, his past was an added weight, an extra demon to be battled.
“You need anything before I crash?” he asked, jumpy without the alcohol buzz to drown his concerns. He had to actively fight the urge to claw his way up the nearest corridor.
Samantha scanned the numbers and screens, and then nodded. “Yes. Come here for a minute, will you?”
Jeremy was distracted the minute she kissed him. Samantha in his arms was enough to block out all of the old terrors and then some.