by Angela White
Kenn watched from the rear corner of the living quarters where he was checking the wiring, a little concerned. Ray had promised not to tell anyone that his power had finally presented, but Kenn wasn’t certain the firefighter would keep his word while upset. Now that he and Dale were having trouble, Ray would need a friend to talk to and spill his guts.
Kenn turned toward the tunnels, mind once again a ball of confusion. He hadn’t minded the beer and conversation with Ray before, but now, it would be strictly for nefarious purpose and Kenn didn’t think he could withstand the fall from grace this time. It was a long way down.
4
“The numbers are going up rapidly,” Samantha stated quietly. “Well above danger levels.”
Marc had stopped by for a report, but he hadn’t expected to discern levels increasing on the strips. The personal badges were stuck to the wall under the air vents and to the under edge of a ledge near the camera outside. The numbers in here were the same as they had been yesterday, but the outer numbers had almost doubled.
“It rained last night,” Sam explained. “Just a little, but it was enough to bring down more of the radioactive debris. They’re being exposed as we speak.”
“When?” he asked, noting the clipboards that had been switched to the hourly monitoring sheets instead of the daily copies they’d begun with. They would go to hourly if the levels down here began to rise.
“It’s individual, so I can’t determine it to the minute or anything,” she muttered bitterly, hating the chore. “I would guess we’ll start seeing signs in the next couple of days.”
“What kind of signs?” he needed to know, scanning screens that showed a huge encampment of sleeping, cooking Mexicans.
The cluttered weather chamber was the base of their operations with the Mexicans, but most citizens wouldn’t be able to tell that from getting a peek into the cavity that sloped down in the rear. They’d put the vents up high, lining the wall below them with tape that would be labeled and contain nametags a short time from now.
“No energy, bleeding from orifices, hair loss, sores.”
“And it gets bad from there, right?”
“Yeah. It’ll be a hell of a cleanup if we’re spared.”
Marc had already covered that in his notes, but he didn’t tell her that he’d chosen to leave it to nature. There were some details that members didn’t need to know. Sam would watch them die on camera. That was enough guilt and horror to carry and Marc was aware of the weight. Samantha wasn’t showing yet. Most of the females weren’t, but Samantha also wasn’t getting much exercise or sleep while doing this. Marc was glad it would only be for a couple more weeks, but he wished he had more Eagles so that he could give her a break now.
“I’m good,” Sam eased, seeing his expression. “Honest.”
Marc had to take her word for it. She was needed here.
“Li’s still adding the potassium iodine like John did?”
Marc nodded. It had been strong enough to taste through the improvised chili the cook had made last night. “We’re easing it down, though, waiting to see if we need it. There’s only so much and there have never been tests to determine if prolonged use diminishes effectiveness.”
“So we could make ourselves immune to the iodine, like an antibiotic?”
“We don’t know,” Marc admitted. “Test results were limited even before the war on anything that connects to a military weapon or program.”
“I’d forgotten where all of this came from,” she stated in horror. “What are we doing? Are we like them?”
Marc left the cubby without answering. Unlike Adrian, Marc refused to lie and say they had no choice. There was always a choice. They could have warned the Mexicans. They knew the army waiting for them to emerge had little experience in nuclear reactors melting down. They’d chosen not to because in the end those men had to die anyway. Making this choice would save their own camp, their own troops. It hadn’t been an easy choice, but it had been the one that gave them a future.
5
“He shouldn’t be here.”
“You don’t get to make that choice.”
“Yes, I do. We voted.”
“The boss has the final say. We need him.”
“So she says.”
“So all of them say or he’d be dead by now. Let it go,” the senior Eagle ordered. “We have bigger problems.”
Adrian refused to make eye contact with the tables of Eagles at the mess. He’d come after breakfast was typically over, but there were still four dozen men and women enjoying a lingering meal.
He took a cup of coffee and went to a rear table that had no one around it. He wanted to make it clear that he didn’t believe he’d been forgiven or that he was a full member again. He much preferred David’s notion of a dangerous guard dog that couldn’t be trusted not to bite if you were stupid enough to extend your hand. It suited him.
Adrian was thrilled with the mess. Angela had taken his advice in the notebooks and placed the tables in the center, with the lunch counters and drink lines along the walls. As a result, the warmth from the counters negated the need for the heating vents to blow in here as strongly, which also cut down on foreign objects winding up in their food from swirling through the air. It gave the room a community-meeting mood. He was willing to bet Eagles on downtime spent many hours at these tables, contemplating their futures.
The mess returned to the previous levels of noise and chatter, but the people there continued to stare and glare in Adrian’s direction. Adrian ignored them. They had to get used to seeing him around again before he could ask them to recognize who he was now.
And who are you? his demon questioned sarcastically. Besides trouble for all of them?
Adrian sighed, clamping down on his guilt. I’m not that person now. Go away.
Who is that?
At a nearby table, Kyle shifted his arm so the baby could view Adrian. Our first leader.
Why do they love him and hate him? the infant inquired, batting at the air with sticky fingers.
Kyle continued wiping away the spit up from her neck and arm. Because he’s both good and bad.
Autumn gurgled. Like me.
Kyle frowned. Why do you think that?
Mommy cries when she holds me. I must be a bad girl.
Kyle stifled a moan. This ghost would never leave them. Your mommy adores you. She cries over other things, not you.
Good. Love mommy.
Me too, squirt. Kyle captured the fingers that needed to be cleaned, gently wiping them.
Autumn couldn’t view very far with her infant sight. She squirmed unhappily, grunting.
What, honey? Kyle tried to comfort.
Wanna see!
Kyle realized what she wanted and sighed, dropping the used wipes into the basket hanging from her pumpkin seat. “Just for a minute and then you have to get a nap.
Autumn let out a happy sound that Kyle couldn’t name. It sank into his heart and made him content. Nice, kid. Your mom can do that to me too.
Adrian glanced up as a shadow fell over the table.
“This is Autumn. She wanted to meet you.”
Adrian grinned at the baby. “Hi. You sure got big since the last time I saw you. Growing quick.”
Not quick enough, the child complained silently, cloud coming over her perfectly pink little cheeks. Stuck.
Adrian sympathized. He extended his arm, not certain that Kyle would allow it.
The mobster almost didn’t. If not for Autumn’s eagerness, he wouldn’t have.
Please, daddy?
Kyle resignedly handed the baby to his former mentor. She’s gonna twist me up like that for the next sixty years or so.
Adrian settled the cute girl into the crook of his arm, smiling down at her. How old are you?
Three months next week, Autumn responded proudly.
Adrian got the sense that she was struggling to force her fingers to hold up that many. Can you count?
Up to twenty, s
he gushed. Daddy taught me!
Adrian gave Kyle a nod of approval. That’s good. Try hard to learn everything you can during this period. The smarter you are when you get control of your body, the better.
Why?
Because you’re the future, sweetheart, Adrian told the baby. You may lead these people after your mom.
Adrian glanced up at Kyle, who was frowning. Your dad won’t like it, but you have a big future.
Autumn’s little face wrinkled up. Sleepy.
Adrian carefully stood up to return the child. Come talk with me again. I’m not all bad.
Autumn cooed. Oh, yeah!
Adrian grimaced as the diaper against his arm grew warm and heavy. A terrible odor rose to assault him. Wow, kid. Just, wow.
Autumn gurgled happily as Kyle took her, chuckling. “That’s my girl.”
Adrian found his arm dry, but sniffed it anyway. He recoiled in shocked offense at the stench. “What the hell are they feeding that kid?”
David entered the mess and spotted Adrian. When he saw that his mentor only had a cup of coffee, that’s all he took from the empty line as well. He didn’t speak to anyone, but he nodded at the small table of soldiers in the opposite corner who were also getting the banished treatment despite being taken into the Eagles. He joined Adrian, taking his notebook out.
Around the mess, those who’d served with Adrian scowled at the sight. The sense of loss, of not being the one to do that with him, was keen.
Adrian knew. He gestured toward the exit. “We’ll do it while we walk.”
David followed without argument, but he knew why Adrian was leaving and it bothered him.
It also bothered a few of the other members in the mess, but they knew better than to defend Adrian. He had to earn that first.
6
“Make it count. We all have the urge to start popping off rounds, but you have to repeat it to yourself until you no longer need it. Make it count.”
The Eagles reloaded their weapons, glad of the ear protection and the thicker barrier on this room. If not for that, their hearing would be damaged and the camp might panic. The sound of gunshots, nearly any kind, in a cave was awful.
Outside, Adrian and David waited for a pause in the noise. They knew better than to walk on in even without the sign on the door that warned against doing that.
David frowned, nose wrinkling. He kept catching a rough smell, but he couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
Adrian knocked. “Coming in!”
David followed him, sniffing as the odor increased and then vanished. Maybe there was a sewage problem.
The sweaty, uniformed Eagles glowered at the interruption, telling David to stay back, that he would never be one of them because of who he was loyal to. David mourned the training, not the friendships and bonding. He’d had that before and after the war with his fellow soldiers. That wasn’t what he was searching for now.
This training space had four-foot thick concrete barriers in the rear and a long distance between the shooters and the targets. Adrian still saw places where slugs had chipped shelves and ledges, and had to force himself not to comment on it. This was the longest chamber so far that he’d explored. If there had been a safer place to put their range, Angela would have chosen there.
Marc motioned for the class to holster their arms. “He has a signup sheet for anyone who wants to kick up their training. Five minute break.”
Marc refused to give it more support than that. If Adrian wanted students, he would have to gather them himself.
Adrian set the clipboard, one of many that he’d made for today, onto an empty weight bench. “Think you can kick my ass? Come prove it.”
Adrian twisted neatly on his heel and left the room.
Marc’s eyes narrowed. Damn! Now I want to take the class. He wasn’t surprised when half of the students went over and put their names on the sheet while boasting. He also wasn’t upset. These men needed to know how to defend themselves and this camp. Adrian deserved to be beat on. It was a good match.
“Was that wise?” David asked as they walked to the ladder for the next level.
Adrian shrugged. “Gotta get ‘em there before I can get through to ‘em.”
“Fair enough. What’s next?”
“Let’s start at the bottom and work our way up,” Adrian decided, swinging onto the ladder. “I have more fans down there.”
David drew back from the stench now rising from the hole. It’s a wonder the ladder doesn’t melt, he thought, trying not to gag. We must be in the direct breeze of the sewer right here.
David understood Adrian’s joke about having friends down here as soon as he saw Cynthia prowling the bottom cavern, muttering and twitching. Her hair was wild, clothes wrinkled and dirty, and her face wasn’t painted.
“Should we tell someone about that?” David asked quietly as he and Adrian slipped into the nearby waste sector.
“No,” Adrian denied. “They’ll know soon enough, if they don’t already. I can’t interfere.”
“Even though it’s your kid?”
“Especially because of that,” Adrian concurred.
“But it’s your kin.”
Adrian sighed, voice lowering. “It’s pure evil. Safe Haven can’t handle it.”
“Could you?”
Adrian considered it regretfully, saying, “I don’t believe so. Conceptions during bloodlust are dangerous. We never meant to create a life at that moment.”
David understood as much as he could, but he still didn’t agree. A baby couldn’t be evil...could it?
7
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Julia leapt to her feet as Jennifer’s harsh words rang through the cell.
Jennifer stormed into the detention center, angry to discover Marc’s ex around their prisoner. “I asked you a question. What are you doing here?”
“I got lost,” Julia began to explain. “I was –”
“That’s not gonna fly!” Jennifer cut her off. She grabbed Julia by the arm and dragged the older woman toward the door with a strength that surprised her.
“I don’t know who the guard is on the detention center, but you just lost them their place in the Eagles. They won’t thank you for that. If I were you, I’d stay in the living quarters until I was given permission to leave. You’ve got one more mistake and then Marc will throw you to the Mexicans!”
Jennifer dragged her into the corridor as Eagles came from every direction.
“Who are you?”
“Who goes there?”
“What are you doing in there?”
“Where’s the patrol on the detention center?”
Julia kept her hands in the pockets of her jean jacket, fists clenched to keep from resisting. Her survival had always depended on fighting back, but she already knew that wouldn’t succeed here. If she attacked this girl, Marc would throw her in the brig–maybe for the duration of her stay.
Jennifer waited for the guards to come through the darkness, braced against the coming flashlight glare. The lack of light in this tunnel was what had drawn her in the first place. “It’s Jennifer.”
Marc and Billy came through the crowd of small Eagles, neither of them missing the way Jennifer’s hand was clenched around Julia’s arm.
“Let’s step in, shall we?” Billy asked, sounding much like his mentor.
“No,” Marc denied, waving Jennifer on. “We get the report later. If it was an emergency she would have been shouting for us.”
Marc and Billy disappeared down the corridor as the crowd broke up.
Jennifer shoved Julia toward the living quarters.
Julia allowed the teenager to get away with the rough handling, but inside she was secretly reveling in the information that she had learned from Chauncey. The Keeper had welcomed her with a mental invitation that would have been nearly impossible to resist even if Julia had had gifts of her own. Once she unscrewed the bulb from the tunnel, it had been easy to distract the sen
try and send him for a replacement while everyone else was asleep and crews were at skeleton levels. Once Chauncey began talking, she had learned a number of things that could be useful once she figured out how to use them to her advantage. Marc was the boss here and Angela was the power, but the information Julia had just learned could change everything.
Julia winced as Jennifer’s step quickened, grip tightening. Julia dug in her boots, trying to stop them, but the teenager had more strength and Julia was forced to go where Jennifer wanted. For now.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Insanity Runs Deep
1
The Quest Chronicles
Cynthia Quest Reporting
October 13th, 2013
Page 1
Should Safe Haven have a Non-Descendant Ruler?
Slaughters, planned mass murders, and another foreign invasion. Nothing has changed since Angela’s mad plan to defeat the government. Nothing has changed since she let hundreds of terrified refugees die in an avalanche. Nothing has changed since the slaughter at the train station. Now, we have a foreign army dying around us. What’s next? Burning people to please the spirits? How can Safe Haven keep espousing morals while killing without consideration? We can’t, folks.
Should Safe Haven have a non-descendant leader?
I obviously think so, but I was curious about how the rest of this refugee camp felt. I spent the last week interviewing the members who have been hurt the most by our fearless rulers. Here are some of their words, uncensored.
Tracy: I don’t know. I mean, they see things before they happen and protect us.
Cynthia: You weren’t protected.
Tracy: I’m lucky to be alive. I was protected.
Cynthia: So you like having a magic user in control of your life, deciding it was okay for you to be raped and beaten?