Life After War: Books 1-3

by Angela White

  Even the setting was ideal. Towering mountains and thick green forests as far as he could see, and Marc realized it was that way through the entire camp. Not one remnant of the War was visible, and while he knew it was intentional, he didn't agree. The truth was always better. Right?

  “Hey, O’Neil! Who’s your friend?”

  The question came from a cute redheaded teenager with a firm, young body, but rather than stopping, the trooper threw a smile over his shoulder and kept going. “We’ll stop by.”

  She nodded easily and turned back to the others near her, but Marc could feel her eyes on them. They headed toward the ponytailed guard he had briefly met at the creek, and Marc wondered if Neil knew how badly the teenager wanted his attention.

  “Hey, Billy, got time for a Level test?”

  The Eagle grinned. “Sure… yours?”

  Neil snorted at the joke. “Funny. This is Brady. You guys met this morning.”

  Their handshake was short, civil, and Marc waited as the guard’s sharp eyes looked him over from head to toe before returning to the trooper at his side.

  “What Level?”

  Neil considered, letting Doug’s face influence him a little. He had planned on a two. “Level Four.”

  There were murmurs at that from the women close enough to hear. Six was the highest they had so far.

  “You got it. Come on over here. Marc, right?”

  They hadn’t spoken at all earlier, everyone had been too busy watching the wolf corner Danny and his friends.

  “Yes.” Brady followed casually, not sure what to expect as they stepped over to a small stack of hay bales set neatly with guns, ammo, hand wipes, and even a first aid kit. Smart, organized… it made him uneasy.

  “First, take your gun apart as fast …”

  Marc was already moving, hands almost a blur. Seconds later, he slapped the clip back in and handed it over, butt first, for inspection.

  Billy hit the timer and gave Neil a look. “New record, though it won’t make the books without enough witnesses. Pass.”

  Billy handed Neil a black handkerchief, very curious. Had the Wolfman done that to Doug? He and Neil had come from that direction.

  “We do one simple shooting test for each Level. You have 30 seconds to hit as many bulls-eyes as you can, blind of course. Seven or more to pass to Level Four, but a bulls-eye in the farthest target is an automatic go.”

  Marc lined himself up with the roller-bound boards and nodded for Neil to tie the blindfold.

  In his element, if only for a moment, Marc fired once from where he stood and gave his gun a single twirl, unable to resist it. He could have made it from twice that distance with only a brief glance.

  “Bulls-eye! Farthest target!”

  The women were cheering loudly, and Billy grinned, shaking his head as Marc reloaded, then reholstered in a smooth movement that drew more respect from those watching.

  “Man, Kenn’s gonna hate you being here. Pass. Give him his paperwork O’Neil.” Billy looked at the sheet on his clipboard. "All right. Class has started. Samantha Moore, please. Adrian said you go first every day until you can hit seven of nine targets with one clip.”

  Neil was all smiles as Marc joined him, and they stayed on the bottom row of the sturdy bleachers as the tall, skinny blonde moved toward the targets. She barely resembled the woman who had stumbled from a mostly dead horse and asked them for a gun. She had cleaned up nicely. Great eyes. Not like Angela’s, which changed color often, but strong and attractive too.

  “Hey, Neil. Where ya been? Me and the girls looked for you at breakfast.”

  The trooper’s face reddened slightly, and he waved a hand at Marc as the women whispered and giggled. There were ten of them, all between 30 and 45 except for little Becky. They wore tight jeans and hair bows and flowery perfumes that made it clear the women also knew this was a matchup class. They had come prepared to snag a man and, in Marc’s book, that made it time to go.

  “I’ve been showing the new guy around. This is Brady. He seems to have trouble making friends. Anything we can do about that?”

  Neil ignored Marc’s embarrassed protests as Becky turned to an older woman that Marc’s mind said would fit perfectly in a Nazi documentary with her pain-lined face and old eyes.

  “Hilda?”

  Becky’s voice was respectful, and Neil gave Marc a nudge. “Stop frowning,” he hissed, struggling not to let his eyes fall to the bare thigh of the teenager in cutoffs next to him. Like the rest of the camp, she was enjoying the warmer weather, and the sight of bare flesh was an instant draw in this camp.

  Everyone was quiet, waiting for the woman to speak. Her light, German eyes reminded Marc of Dog as they swept him before returning to Neil. That deeply evaluating look was going to wear thin, Marc thought.

  “Is he useful?” Hilda paused, cracking a toothless grin. “Single?”

  Neil smiled back, glad he’d thought to include her. The old woman didn’t have any official authority, but when the better cook had come, Adrian had made Hilda a sort of den mother to the new women, and those she had helped now followed her lead. If he hadn’t included her, she could have caused trouble. Neil knew she wouldn’t have though, she was a Kenn-hater too and not quiet about it. With her support, Marc would have a better chance at winning over the rest of the camp. Keeping the females happy was a priority.

  “He’ll be one of Adrian’s, I’d wager, and he keeps company with a wild wolf. As for the single part…” Neil shrugged. “That’s undecided, I think.”

  “Then it’s true. He lusts for Kenn’s wife."

  The trooper held up a hand, waved away Marc’s anger. “He loves her, Hilda, and you know we don’t get to choose that.” His eyes darted to Becky and back. “It chooses us.”

  The pale woman nodded, green eyes hard. “You speak truth, but if they are already sleeping together...”

  “That’s none of your business!” Marc broke in hotly. “What the hell gives you people the right to ...”

  He stopped at Neil’s look of horror.

  Most of the women were disappointed, sure he had blown it, but the Den Mother only grinned widely. “Must be love. Too tense to have gotten laid recently.”

  Marc’s mouth dropped open as surprised laughter rang out, and he was unable to keep from chuckling, shaking his head. He saw that many of the females around the old woman were subtly offering to help him with that problem and looked away, cheeks scarlet.

  Hilda turned back to Neil. “The females here will not follow Kenn’s lead on this one. He will be judged by his actions only.”

  “Thank you. Anything I should tell the Boss?” the cop asked instinctively.

  She nodded, giving Brady another once-over. “Tell our guardian to look again. He’s not seeing the true value.”

  The woman raised her voice to include the guards, who had moved subtly closer to listen. “Now, when does this class end? Accidentally shot Kenn’s window, my ass! Making me do this again is cruel and unusual punishment!”

  “For the guards running it,” Neil joked, making them laugh again, and he leaned toward Marc as the women chattered and stared. “We’re done here unless you want to stay for the show. Probably be funny. She’s in good form today.”

  Marc shrugged, still uncomfortable. “You’re my agent. It’s your call.”

  The trooper grinned, not denying it, “We’ll go. She doesn’t need a bigger audience to play for.”

  Marc saw the satisfied glint in the old woman’s eyes as they stood up, and knew instinctively that he had pleased her. Because she saw Kenn for what he was and was glad someone had finally come who could give him a run for his money?

  Marc sighed, nodding a polite goodbye. It doesn’t matter really, he thought, watching Becky - head still turned toward Hilda - hold a hand behind her back and pass Neil a small note that he betrayed no sign of receiving. Ah. So that’s how it was.

  “It’s been a pleasure, Ladies. We’ll see you at the contest?”


  There were promises and more giggles at Neil’s question. Marc was glad when they were out of sight of the hot, female eyes that were burning holes into his back. Angie wouldn't like this.

  “That was fun.” He grinned suddenly, wondering if she would be jealous, but Neil only heard the sarcasm.

  “You'll learn to use things to your advantage too, but first, you need a foundation here, and roots only come from one of three ways. Adrian’s attention is the quickest. Working hard and fitting in are good but slow, or, you can do FND work. Foot-in-the-door. Add the women’s approval to any of them, and it’s an almost indestructible place.”

  Marc nodded, a little confused, and thinking again that it really didn’t matter since he wasn’t sure he was staying. He had no problem with what the trooper was trying to do though, and was glad he had a friend in the guard, who clearly had some pull here.

  “The parking area is next. I need to see if Kenn got the other refer truck running. Adrian plans to butcher today, so we need to get a rig ready.”

  They neared the area quickly, and Marc hated to admit that he was just a bit nervous as the lake of vehicles came into sight. He wasn’t afraid of Kenn, but with the exception of a few, these were definitely his people. Everything that had happened so far confirmed it, and the Marine inside didn’t like not knowing what to expect.

  The 200’x100’ area was filled with rusty, dusty, older, and mostly American-made steel. Almost every driver door sported a flag, some cars covered in red-white-and-blue, and it gave the area a feeling of sad honor. Big and small, dented and pristine, it took only a second for Marc to understand that the vehicles were not randomly parked between the tall trees. Some were being shielded, and again, Marc was impressed. It was hard to steal or destroy what you didn’t know was there.

  He drew in a steadying breath as they neared the group of eight men standing around the front end of a faded-blue semi with an open hood - all smoking, talking quietly, and watching the two men sitting half inside the engine compartment.

  “Hey guys. Any luck yet?”

  Knowing anything he had to offer here wasn’t welcome, Marc hung back as heads turned at Neil’s call and cold eyes appraised him. Kenn was one of the men under the truck’s greasy hood, and the looks were hostile, the mood already aggravated.

  Seth was the second man in the truck and Marc met his eye, took a chance by nodding hello. The redhead had protested when Danny started on him at the creek, but Dog had handled the problem before he could see how far it might have gone.

  Brady was relieved when the guard returned the gesture, and then looked around for the wolf. Marc shook his head, smiling as Kenn answered Neil in short tones.

  What the hell was O’Neil doing with him? The Marine's eyes were asking it, and Marc was a bit surprised at the light of challenge in the trooper's return expression. The cop knew Kenn was on edge, was trying to push him out. Adrian had missed it, but this quiet officer hadn't? It was hard to swallow.

  “Compressor’s shot on the trailer and there’s a short in the engine wiring. We’ll have to strip it down.”

  Neil nodded, glad to see Brady had made a friend on his own. “We’ll help.”

  Kenn wiped a greasy hand down his dirty jeans so he could light a smoke and suck in enough air to sound normal. “Chris is bringing the truck around. Adrian wants a count.”

  The Marine bent back over the engine, pretending Marc wasn’t there. Giving Tonya a workout had settled him down a bit, put him back in control of himself.

  Seven of the men watching tried to do the same, while listening for every word the new man might say.

  Neil stepped back over to him. “Keep track of how many boxes and crates you carry. You’ll be asked when we’re done."

  “Should I count each one out loud so no one can bitch when my numbers match?”

  The slightly nervous trooper hid a grin and went on like he hadn't heard, liking it that the Wolfman was telling them that he, too, was irritated. They’d been warned, and while he was sort of hoping Kenn might be goaded into doing something that would get him in trouble, Neil also agreed with Marc's side. She loved him and he loved her. It was that simple. “So, we’re moving food. Crates of bread and dough mostly, but we still have some potatoes, cheese and oranges. Adrian got most of it right after the War, at big factories. A lot of what we find now went bad weeks ago.”

  “Smart to check the warehouses and plants. Most people wouldn’t.”

  “That’s Adrian.”

  “So you need more refrigerated trucks?”

  “Yeah. The dust clogs up everything. We go through a lot of compressors and haven’t found a big enough auto store that hasn’t been destroyed or too looted to have what we need."

  Marc said nothing. He knew where one was. He and Angie had spent a night there a week ago, doing tune-ups. It was another small solution to one of this camp’s many minor inconveniences, but Marc wasn’t sure yet who he would give all his little ideas to.

  “You don’t happen to know anything about wiring or compressors, do you?”

  The question came from Zack, Kenn's right-hand man according to scuttlebutt. Marc hesitated before shrugging, very aware that none of them, including Neil, wanted him to fix this right in front of Kenn’s face.

  “Very little,” Marc hedged and saw by the frown that the most loyal ally wasn’t going to let it go. Zack was looking for a fight, an opening, and he’d just given him one.

  “Okay, then. We’ll just …”

  “He didn’t say no.”

  One of the other men interrupted before the truck driver could and Neil shook his head, sure camp members walking by had stopped to watch. Tension was detected a lot faster now. “Don’t start shit, Jeff.”

  The Level Two Eagle gave him a cold look. “Shit started when he came here.”

  The stocky man glared back with eyes that said he wanted Adrian to have to get involved, and Neil knew he couldn’t stop him. Brady would have to handle this one on his own, too.

  “So, how about it Wolfman? Kenn won’t mind because it’s not behind his back.”

  There were murmurs of agreement and Marc shrugged, not looking away. “I’m sure he can take care of it in either case.”

  Jeff hesitated at the cold tone of warning, thinking of Doug's face, but Kenn was listening, waiting. The guard pushed harder, eager to be the one Kenn thanked, not Zack, when the new man was made to leave. “Come on. What’s a truck compared to a wife?”

  There were a lot of nods, but before Neil could protest again, Marc took a step forward, drawing a surprised mutter from the watching sheep.

  “Once you turn your back on something for so long that you’ve created a whole new life, it no longer belongs to you, but to the one caring for it while you were gone,” Marc said, thinking he’d done the same thing to her all those years ago. It gave his voice a tone of regret the men were all surprised to hear.

  “As for the truck, if Kenn says it’s done, then it is. There was no one better at shit like this in my squad.”

  Marc lit a smoke, heart thumping with awareness that he was revealing secrets and bringing to light realities that Kenn didn’t want known. He waited for the Marine’s reaction with steady, ready hands.

  “You guys talk more than women. Here comes Danny with the truck. Let’s get it done.”

  Kenn's tone betrayed none of his anger and embarrassment, but his red face and shifting eyes did. A few of the men began to wonder more than they already had been. They wanted to be loyal to Adrian's XO, but only if he was worthy of it. Except for Zack, but even he was forced to admit that Kenn had been keeping secrets at the very least. If all that stuff wasn’t true, Kenn would have argued, right? In a heartbeat.

  Everyone except Marc headed for the truck as it came to a jarring stop, and he waited for Kenn to climb down, letting the others get out of earshot. The two men looked at each other with cool dislike. Marc didn’t want to deal with the fight he saw in the Marine’s eyes. Not unless they could end i
t all right here. “Her choice, not ours. I won’t influence her.”

  “You already have. She’s changed.”

  Marc shook his head. “You’re the one who changed her. This is how she should have been.” He held up his hand again when Kenn’s eyes narrowed with more questions. “We don’t want to do this now. I just wanted to tell you we… saw an undamaged Auto Zone back in Lincoln, Nebraska. It’s a super-center, still had glass in most of the windows, and it should have some of what you need.”

  Marc stepped past him, and when he looked back, was surprised to see Kenn writing it in a small, glossy black notebook with lettering on the front cover that he wasn't close enough to read. He hadn’t really expected the sullen Marine to listen, had thought he would tell Neil later, but knew he had to at least try to show these people that he, too, could follow the chain-of-command.

  The group of quiet, tense men began unloading bags, crates, and boxes, and Marc was silent, shut out of their occasional jokes and taunts. As he kept pace, he wondered what Angie was doing, and if she knew the price he would have to pay every day that he stayed here waiting for her.

  5

  It took them a lot longer than Marc had expected. They stripped the rig, all of it, from gas to brake pads and headlights, crates and boxes neatly packed and marked. When it was done, all of them were greasy and sweaty. They split up with little talk and confused looks.

  “We’ve got a bit if you want to put up your tent now,” Neil offered as they headed away from the direction Kenn had gone.

  “Sure. Where?”

  The pleased trooper led the way. “See the two big tents in the middle? Men’s and women’s. See the empty corner on the left? That’s where mine was. Yours goes there now. I’m on your right.”

  Not understanding, but almost sure Neil hadn’t gotten permission first, Marc looked at him. “This gonna get you in trouble?”

  The cop grinned. “Those are guard spots and can only be assigned by Adrian or a couple of other people. Angela’s is directly across the bonfire from yours, next to the one the women are putting up for the blonde… Samantha, I think,” Neil said, eyes on the rippling waves of corn silk hair being blown wildly by the cool wind. She was cute.