by Angela White
Neil laughed and Marc watched Seth pull the trigger gently, lovingly.
"Bulls-eye!"
The crowd voiced their approval again as Neil took his place, nodding happily at Kenn's open glare.
The trooper counted silently to three, blowing out a calming breath. He wanted to still be in it when Brady and Kenn went head-to-head.
Neil pulled the trigger, smiling as he stepped back and Marc knew it was good.
"Bulls-eye!"
The noise was deafening, louder than for anyone else, even Kenn. Marc watched the cop blow jokingly on the barrel of his gun for their amusement, realizing he was as much a favorite as the Marine.
Neil was high up here, had to be. Fourth or better, because Doug was fifth (unofficially, just what did that mean? Was there a vote?), and Marc had already met both first and second. Who else here was in Adrian’s service?
"Is there another shooter?"
Doug gave him a firm nudge, and Marc stepped not to home plate, but to Adrian. As he handed his weapon –butt first - to the Boss for inspection, he was very aware of how many men had tensed at his action, seeing it as a threat.
Adrian checked it and held it out to Kenn, also butt first, who did the same, only much slower.
Kenn gave it back, barrel first, to its owner.
Marc took it without hesitation, feeling but not responding to the silent threat that had the crowd stiffening.
Adrian frowned, waved him on.
As Marc stepped to the plate, he rechecked his weapon, unable and unwilling to pretend he trusted Kenn.
His actions drew frowns from those who understood what was going on, but it also showed he was used to keeping himself alive. He was a survivor, like them, whether they wanted him to be or not.
Thinking about Charlie’s words, Marc saw the bullet slam into the center of the target and then his hand was a blur, drawing, firing in a fast, smooth motion.
"Bulls-eye!"
The response of the crowd wasn't a cheer, but a mix of surprise and disapproval. The men in front, Kenn's men, exchanged uneasy looks. So far, the new guy was a match for the Marine in every way.
Marc nodded at Kenn's unhappy glare the way Neil had, and stepped back to the grinning trooper.
Adrian held up a hand for quiet. "Doug is eliminated. Move the targets back again."
Marc listened to the people around them betting their chores, work shifts, guns, and other luxuries, and while he didn't hear his name (at least not with any support), he didn't let it bother him. There was plenty of time to become popular. First, he had to make an impression. He had to show them he could hold his own if he chose to stay.
"So what's the duel?" Marc asked as they all lined up again and the crowd went back to muttering and murmuring quietly.
"Just that, Adrian usually picks the target, but the shooters can challenge each other to something more specific, like rocks or cans. They go until someone misses," Neil explained. He began reloading, still smirking. “I have a feeling we’ll see one tonight.”
2
At the start of round two, Kenn got another bulls-eye.
Marc forced himself to not look over the crowd. He wasn't sure whether she was out there watching, but knew even eye contact between them was forbidden. He could feel their son’s eyes on him, but wasn't sure if the boy might be rooting for the Marine, too. It made him more determined to drive in the point he had been making all day. If he decided to stay, he would not live in Kenn's shadow.
The rounds went quickly. By the fifth turn, it was clear that Kenn, Seth, Neil, Marc, and the dark-headed, deeply tanned Kyle, were the best. All but the trooper had scored perfect on every shot.
"We'll eliminate two each round now and every bullet in the clip counts. First shooter will go last, last shooter goes first."
Marc blinked at Adrian’s words, caught off guard. As he moved to the plate, he was aware of Kenn's smirk and wondered at it. Shouldn't he be mad to go last and lose the spotlight for so long?
“He doesn't care so long as it rattles you enough to miss,” the boy's message was thrown in a hesitant clip of hope and confusion.
Marc heard the unsent plea as well, “Be good. Be what we need.”
Marc got set. “I am both of those.”
He drew in the same easy blur he'd started with from the first shot.
Adrian and every member of his command knew it was good.
"Eight bulls-eyes!"
There was a small cheer from parts of the crowd this time.
Marc didn't look at the Marine as he switched places with Neil, knowing that Kenn was not only ready to pick a fight, but would do it openly.
Adrian also felt it and locked eyes with his right-hand man for a brief moment of warning that had the angry XO looking away, ashamed. Good sportsmanship was also high on Adrian's list.
"Eight bulls-eyes!"
The crowd let out a roar of approval as Neil and Seth traded places, and Marc wondered why Angie wasn't coming. He knew she wasn't in the crowd and was a little disappointed despite the excitement of the shootout. He'd missed stuff like this, but he would much rather be wherever she was.
As the tenth round came, it was down to just the five of them; Kenn, Kyle, Neil, Seth, and Marc. The targets had been moved back each round, and Adrian was pleased when all five men again scored perfectly. They were good. What a force they'd make against the Slavers.
"It looks like we'll have a duel!"
The crowd cheered, and Marc listened closely as Adrian explained.
"We'll do saucers first, five in ten seconds, then five in five if needed."
Seth stepped forward to begin the round, guns crashing. Marc watched him struggle to hit the small white plates as Adrian gently tossed them up.
"Three hits," Adrian called, watching his redheaded bodyguard automatically move back to where Neil and Brady stood. "Who's our next shooter?"
Realizing they could go in any order, Marc stepped forward, and everyone watching fell silent. Not as many hostile eyes were on him now, and he motioned to Adrian that he was ready. He shot the plates out of the dark sky and didn't struggle, didn't miss one. His Colt cracked rhythmically as he aimed and fired, fired, fired. He pulled the trigger twice more and china exploded in response.
Marc gave his gun a twirl before reholstering and was pleased with the small cheer he got in response. He could hear his name being bet on now and moved to Neil and Seth with happily-glowing eyes. This part of Safe Haven… he could come to need.
"Five hits. Next shooter?"
There was deep pleasure in Adrian's voice, the kind each of them longed to draw.
Neil quickly stepped forward. He wouldn’t be able to match that kind of shooting and hoped Kenn couldn't either. The Wolfman was better than just good.
Neil was ready for the first two plates, but the third fell too fast, and he missed it, along with the fourth. He got the last one just before it hit the ground, ceramic digging into the dirt as it exploded.
When Kyle stepped up, Marc's eyes narrowed on him. The stocky guard had been quiet all during the contest, not really hanging with Kenn's or any other group, but mingling between them. As he watched, the mobster picked off four of five and his mind placed it. That was Adrian's other officer. Kyle was that missing link in the chain-of-command.
Everyone fell silent as Kenn stepped up. The contest was Marc's if the Marine missed even one.
He didn't.
"Five hits!"
The crowd was pushing against the gate and each other, screaming, red-faced, and even as Marc wondered how Adrian would calm them, the spotlights went off, throwing them all into darkness. The survivor inside had him dropping down as panic began to swell in the crowd.
The lights flashed back on, showing Adrian in the center of the field with cords in his hands. He unplugged it once more to make sure he had gotten his point across, and then lit them back up.
His eyes said to settle down, and they all read it clearly, started moving back, helping people who had bee
n knocked down.
Adrian waved a hand at Kenn and Marc, both men in much the same position when the lights came back on. As were most of the other shooters, none of whom had left yet despite being eliminated.
"We'll do five in five now." The leader took a half dollar from his pocket. "Reigning champ picks. Call it in the air." Adrian tossed the coin gently.
"Heads."
Adrian looked, picked it up. "Heads, it is."
Kenn took his place as Marc went back to his small group of allies. Instead of pushing the jealousy from his mind, the Marine stole a look at the four of them, seeing the friendships he'd been fighting for but hadn't won. He really had thought differently with Seth and Doug.
When Kenn turned back to Adrian, his hands weren't quite steady enough for this task and he knew it. Kenn nodded, unable to think of a delay, and the plates began to fly.
The throwing was smooth, one each second, and the first three Kenn nailed. The fourth shattered only when it hit the ground and he picked off the fifth with slumped shoulders. Brady was better than that after half a bottle of Jack. Damn it!
"Four hits."
The crowd's cheer wasn't subdued. Marc knew he should let Kenn win, but the thought of all the taunts he would have to endure and renewed respect everyone would have for the Marine, made a cold band of determination seal his choice. If he wanted to make a life here, at least one he could tolerate, he would have to show them not only wasn't he after Kenn's seconds, he wasn't second to the man himself either. He needed to win.
Marc motioned immediately as he stepped forward and let his hands take control. When the plates went up, he began blowing them out of the air almost as soon as Adrian tossed them. He spun, fired, fired, fired, not missing, and the last slug took out the final plate just as Adrian let go, making him take a step back to avoid the flying shrapnel.
"Five hits! New Champion! Marcus Brady!"
The crowd went wild again, and Kenn stepped over with his hand out and blue eyes full of hate. They shook quickly.
The Marine turned away, he and Zack pushing their way through the dozens of people who had rushed the field.
The mob was congratulating, yelling, Marc grinning, and the three elated Eagles with him protected him from all the hands.
Adrian relaxed a bit. One full day out of the QZ and Brady had already made a name for himself. Things would start happening now. They would be hard and dangerous, but worth every risk. Kenn was pissed, but it would make him try harder and that was the XO they all needed. There was a lot of work ahead of them, and Adrian wondered how high Brady would eventually climb. Based on what he had seen and heard today, that was unknown. Settling in and expanding his goals from just Angela, to including the rest of the camp, would be the turning point. When that happened, he might go a lot higher than anyone, except maybe Neil, was expecting.
3
Marc pushed away his tray, yawning, and Neil grinned, "Don't wimp out yet. You still have two stops left on the tour."
Marc rolled his eyes, voice rueful as he looked over the crowded Mess. No Angie. He met cold stares and threatening glares as his sharp gaze traveled the brightly lit dining area, and swallowed an unhappy sigh. Winning the contest had meant little to these hardened survivors once they’d left the ball field.
"Why? Haven't we pissed off everyone yet?"
"Almost. We'll attend the bonfire party for a few minutes, and then we'll spend some time in the far south corner of camp. That should get the last of 'em."
Marc had begun to frown, eyes narrowing as he spotted Rick in line, a few people behind Samantha. There was another problem Adrian had let in. He understood there wasn’t any proof, but didn’t agree with the saying about keeping your enemies close.
"The south end, isn't that area off limits to me?"
Neil shrugged, glad Marc had paid attention to the map and rules he'd been given yesterday. The cop met Adrian's eyes across the crowded, noisy Mess. "You need to be a part of everything he's got going on here. Your first day with us will be the one we remember clearest. We'll hang at the bonfire, and then watch the rookies take their Level Test. That'll be a full day."
Marc ran his eyes around the perimeter he could see, and found guards watching him with searching, speculative expressions that had him nodding to them. As if on cue, these men all faded back into the shadows at the same time, vanishing without a response. What the hell was that?
"You include the beer and joint in there somewhere?"
Neil laughed. "Right after we're done here. Hurry up, will ya? I need a buzz."
Marc chuckled and let himself be drawn into a conversation with Seth about the wolf at his feet. The redhead's welcoming wave when they had arrived caused Kenn to grit his teeth and pass the Mess instead of joining Adrian's raucous center table.
The picnic table they were at was a double and they were surrounded by the men they'd played soccer with and against. In the seats next to them were the females from the gun class, Samantha now sandwiched in the middle and looking like Marc felt - uncomfortable.
There was a lot of flirting and eye contact between the two tables, and Marc saw little Becky's gaze go to Neil again and again. Something about the note, he thought, and couldn't stop himself from looking around again for black hair and blue eyes.
"She's not coming." Kyle sat on the bench by Neil, back to their table as he watched the one he had just left - Adrian’s. "She's still with the vet. Said there's a lot to be done."
Marc heard the approval, the admiration. "Let me guess. Kenn said she couldn't, so she stayed all day just to prove that she could?"
Kyle nodded, lips twitching as he sent his eyes over the guards he could see, doing a fast check-in. Clear. "That's the story. I'm sure it's true to a point, but really, I think she's avoiding him."
Marc sighed. That was his Angie. Don't rock the boat unless you have to.
"Congrats by the way. You've made it to the top of his list."
Marc grinned, a bit confused, and Kyle turned to look at him with sharp eyes that assessed, measured. This was Angela's Wolfman, her chosen mate if he was reading things right. Was he worthy of her, of that honor?
"What list?" Marc asked.
Neil's voice was low. "Kenn's death list. When he snaps, we’ll all know it."
Kyle slapped the trooper on the shoulder playfully, and Marc could see they were good friends. "Neil here made it to second after today, and Seth has third locked up, so at least you're in good company."
There was loud laughter as Kyle moved toward the line for a refill, and it drew more attention to how well the new man was fitting in despite Kenn's complaints and warnings.
Adrian was pleased. It had been a good day. Brady had made real progress, Angela had shown she wasn't afraid of hard work, and his people had come through another change together. They had realized his choice for second-in-command had some serious flaws. Now it was up to Kenn to prove he could control the things that had broken him in the old world. He would either accept that Marc and Angela would have a place here, or endanger his own.
Lingering over a third cup of coffee as the Mess emptied out and the camp went about their nightly rituals, Adrian was glad when it was just the cleaning crew left. Quiet minutes to think were hard to come by some days.
The leader inside hated it that Kenn hadn't come to the table, but it was great that Brady was handling himself so well. That man now had friends in high places, and Adrian couldn't help but ask himself if maybe it wasn't too late to remove...
No. He stopped himself. There was no way that Brady would ever give him the total commitment that Kenn already did. The Marine was born to be his right hand, he had to believe that. When Angela made her choice and Kenn dealt with it, things would settle down. Until then, there was plenty of work for all of them.
Cold air spun through the Mess, carrying a thick chill. Adrian was suddenly exhausted, but there was still a bonfire party, a level test, a poker game, and rounds. He sighed, draining the last dregs of
cool coffee from his mug. Then there was the look in Neil's eyes that warned him he wasn't done getting Marc noticed yet. A small smile of contentment playing about his lips, Adrian took out his notebook and began looking for anything he might have missed.
4
"Tell me more about how things work here," Marc prompted as they headed for Neil's tent, both men keeping a subtle eye out for Kenn and Zack in the shadows. The camp wasn't settled by any means, was a flurry of activity as they got ready for the night, but it was also calm, routine, and comfortable in the cool air.
“What would you like answered first?” Neil asked, curious as to what was at the top of the Wolfman’s need-to-know list.
"How often do you travel, where are you headed, and who decides what?"
"We’re usually on the road three or four days a week, sometimes more. We have camp meetings every month to pick where we look next. As for the decisions, that's all Adrian. Where he leads, we'll follow."
Marc nodded. That, he got. "When are you on the road again?"
"We'll be moving out at 9 a.m. day after next for some food supplies one of the scouting missions found."
Marc met his eye and kept his voice low. "Is it a secret, where you're going? Is that why you avoided my question?"
Neil shook his head, mouth wanting to smile. Kenn had a lot more competition than he knew, and not just for Angie. The Wolfman was beyond sharp; he was the edge of a well-cared-for razor. Definitely a better match for Adrian’s right.
"It's more unknown than secret. We look, we vote, we look some more."
"But ..."
Neil frowned slightly. "We don't know. He hasn't made a final choice."
Marc thought about that, seeing the cop was a bit uneasy about it. Did Adrian know?
"So you guys have been searching for what? A safe place to start rebuilding since…February?" Marc asked, trying to give the file in his mind a creation date.
Neil finished his Mountain Dew and hooking it neatly into one of the two flaming cans they were passing. "Kyle and I have been with him since almost the beginning – the last few days in December. Doug came in January, Seth the first week in February. We've been looking the whole time. We average a month in each state, picking up supplies and survivors, and searching. We've come to trust Adrian's instincts as much as you do Angela's. If he says we go on, we do."