by Angela White
That need to atone, the one she already suspected Adrian of carrying, was heavy. She’d ended things with Rick and made a couple friends among the women for her outspoken views. But she’d also made it clear she was different and it had limited her companionship. Right now, she could be with the other females at the gun class or the Mess, but even though Safe held her kind… Sam stopped herself. Two days wasn’t enough time, she knew that. It was just hard. Who among these recovering survivors would understand the choices she’d been forced into?
Samantha’s tormented eyes swung over what she could see of the camp, spotting happy, relaxed faces and ‘normal’ life continuing. Not them.
She turned, scanning the area behind her… and saw three guards standing together, watching her. Each made eye contact, then moved into the trees, vanishing. Before she could question, a fourth Eagle stepped forward, drawing her eye. He’d been so still she hadn’t noticed him.
Jeremy didn’t look away from the searching glance, that almost desperate need to connect. As an Eagle, he’d seen it enough times to know it for what it was, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen it so clearly. She’s haunted, the Level Five Eagle thought. She needs a friend here.
Samantha felt his gaze digging in, searching like she had, but it wasn’t invasive like she’d expected. It was… sympathetic… caring even. The emotions were so foreign that Sam snapped her eyes back to the water, heart thumping. That one understood too much.
It was a relief to look back a few minutes later and not see him, though she thought she could still feel him. Who was he?
Unaware of how she’d just been manipulated, Samantha stayed there, exploring the feeling of his eyes on her. Thoughts of fleeing to her tent had been replaced with a human trait that the Eagles were being taught to use. Curiosity was a powerful distraction tool.
6
Angela hesitated outside the open tent flap, hating how it made her feel to know there were eyes watching her constantly. She lifted her head, thinking that while her words and clothes fit in, she didn't, and they knew it. It was in her wary eyes and hesitant interactions. She wasn't adjusting well and wasn't sure how long she...
"Should I come out there?"
Angela flushed, frowning at herself. "No, sorry."
She stepped into the light scent of musky, sexy cologne and was struck again by how perfectly neat it was; an army cot flawlessly made-up, a small table and chairs, and a conveniently arranged shelf. There wasn't a thing out of place that she could see, and Angela wondered what it was about the precisely aligned dimes, nickels and quarters that had bothered Marc so much. She'd caught a flash from him as he left Adrian's table and knew he didn't trust the blond. The coins had something to do with that, but she wasn't sure what.
Adrian was kneeling down by the cooler and watched her from the corner of his eye as she looked around his home, thinking she could have been a model even with those heavy bags under her eyes. Instead, Kenn had hidden her light.
"Have a seat," he invited, bringing two tin cups and a red thermos to the table
"Thanks. What are we drinking?"
He handed her a sweaty green can and a paper towel before joining her, a small brown box in his hand.
Angela took the pop eagerly, thinking she hadn't had cold Mountain Dew in over four months.
"It doesn't really have a name. Rum, berries - canned, bananas - rehydrated, sugar, stuff like that. Oh, and ice, lots of ice."
Angela smiled, watching him break up pale green buds. Camp members moved by in the cloudy afternoon, gawking at them through the open flap, and she understood he either didn't usually smoke with camp members… or maybe just not with women? Angela wasn’t sure what he expected or how much she was willing to give, and she took a swig, enjoying the caffeine-riddled soda. It was her favorite.
"You're off-duty now?"
"Yes. John's good. Nice. Anne too."
Angela shifted restlessly as loud whispers about her and Marc floated through the flap. She adjusted her black sweater to cover her unease. Let them talk. What did she care?
"They'll appreciate the help."
"He has me doing his notes right now, catching up."
Adrian met her eye as he smoothly sealed the thick joint. "And making sure you know what you say you do before he lets you near his patients?"
Angela grinned. "He likes to throw trick questions."
"He's sharp. He won't test you long. A month from now you'll want the paperwork back."
She shrugged, wondering if she'd be here then. There was something pulling at her, but was it enough?
"I can tell you why you're here."
That got her full attention and a frown. "I'm here for my son."
Adrian smiled patiently, sure he could trust her with these things despite her hesitance, and pushed on. "I mean on the planet. Why you're so different. Why you survived."
Uncomfortable, Angela bit her tongue on the sarcastic remark that flew to mind.
"You would be welcome here anyway, especially because of your medical skills. But there's so much more you can do, because you're like me and the Eagles. You're a Runner."
"A runner?"
"Little kids are told not to judge people on wealth or looks, that what's on the inside is what matters, but they don't understand and why should they? It's confusing. They should all be told there are three types of people - those who Sit, those who Stand, and those who Run."
The words carried a simple ring of powerful magic, and Adrian let it linger. He hit the joint and passed it to her, noticing how careful she was not to touch him at all during the exchange.
"Those who Sit are society’s burdens. They're mostly uneducated, shiftless and have no ambition. They don't give a damn about the greater good. They serve only themselves, or worse, no one at all. They won't even try to make it on their own, and the old world took care of them at everyone else's expense."
He poured them both a cup of the reddish liquid from the thermos, impressed with the hit she drew into her lungs before passing it back.
"Those who Stand are the workers. They fight hard for what they have, but few reach independence. They trudge back and forth their entire lives and keep the world turning by just showing up. These are the drivers, the servers, the doers."
Angela could see how much he believed in what he was telling her and felt her stomach tighten as he opened his mouth to continue, but wasn’t sure why.
"Then there are the Runners. The literal one-in-a-million that survive whatever Fate throws at them, tolerating the world, and usually unaware of how important their role is. These are the tortured, the mocked, the exiled. They are feared, abused, and yet they push on. Runners are Fate's wild cards. They uncover, discover, question, lead, create, challenge, and no matter the pressure or threat, there's a part of them that won't fit in, won't conform. It refuses to bend or believe just because someone tells them to. This camp is full of Standers, thankfully, but there are also at least a dozen Runners here now, all gathered in the same place. The odds alone on that many one-in-a-million people all finding each other are astronomical."
Adrian looked at her with clear blue eyes that held no doubt. "We were born into this time to help save our people, our country, and our very way of life. We have to get them to a place where they can Sit and Stand in safety. That's why you're different, that's why you're here."
Angela was speechless, mind slamming it into place with a fit that was perfect. When it turned and fastened down into an airtight seal, a wave of completeness rolled over her, so strong she had to close her eyes. All those years she'd hidden, questioned, been through hell, and Adrian had seen it in only three days.
The watching leader actually felt it, the instant her loyalty shifted to include him and this camp, and a heavy weight slid from his overloaded shoulders. The one he needed most was here. She would take his place if anything happened… at least until Arkansas. After that, it might be someone else's duty.
"What am I supposed to do?"
Adrian soaked up the sense of partnership that filled the tent at her words. "Help me. There's so much we need that I don't know where to begin."
Angela met his eye. "Whatever you need."
Adrian shook his head as he held out the smoking roach. "Always read the fine print. It's a hard job and our survival will eventually come down to blood. You learned that on your way here, I suspect."
Angela blanched, shaking her head at both his words and the pungent weed. "I won't do it again. Ever."
Adrian wondered why she'd had to, what had happened, what Brady had done wrong. "That's my job."
"And mine?" Angela asked through the thick smoke as he exhaled.
"Look, listen. If it's broken, show me how to fix it. If it's coming, warn me in time to deal with it. Advise me. Be my Merlin, and together we'll save America."
She stared at him for a long moment, her breathing shallow, and Adrian felt the air thicken around them.
"And if We can give you none of what you ask for?"
Adrian smiled knowingly at the Witch looking through Angela’s eyes. "That’s an unfair question. I already know you can."
The Demon smiled back, voice hollow. "This is not a deal to be made lightly."
She paused and Adrian blinked at the bright glow of her eyes. Incredible!
"There is always a price."
The tremor of greed in the words was easy to hear, and he nodded without hesitation. "I'll give them everything I have. As long as they survive, there's no price I won't pay."
“Your name!” the Demon demanded angrily. “Tell me your real name!”
Adrian froze as his father’s face slammed into his mind.
Angela’s gasp floated through the tent. His father was Robert Milton… the man who had destroyed their world!
Adrian waited silently for her to call the others or at least start accusing, but there was only a heavy silence he unwillingly broke. “When will you tell them?”
Angela looked back with a devotion that surprised and stunned him.
“Never. You’ve given me a terrible, powerful knowledge, and I’ll guard it with my life… so that it does not cost you yours.”
Adrian allowed himself to smile, not doubting her words. “Kenn be damned. Your place with me is set.”
7
"She's just a whore, like Tonya! Anyone with enough money could have her!"
The boy’s voice was cruel, and the mother quickened her steps, sure it was about her.
Thud! The sound of hard skin-to-skin contact echoed.
"Don't ever talk about my mom like that!"
Angela quickly rounded the corner to see her gentle son standing over a much larger teenager. The would-be bully was bleeding from his nose, and the fury coming from her boy made her stop, duck back out of sight. She had left Adrian's tent filled with a surprising peace, but that was gone now. She'd missed so much of him becoming a man. Who was he now?
"You hear me?" Charlie leaned down and grabbed the older boy by the front of his shirt, then gave him a harsh shake that rattled the handsome boy and sent red drops flying. "You want me to hit you again?"
The bleeding teenager shook his head quickly, and Charlie shoved him back as he let go. "Keep your fucking gob shut then!"
"What the hell's going on here?"
Zack's eyes were full of anger at seeing his son on the ground, blood dripping from his lip.
Angela stepped around the corner, but didn't say anything yet. She wouldn't step in unless she had to.
"He hit me, dad!" Eric whined, holding up a hand with blood on it.
When Zack went for Charlie without asking why, Angela drew her gun. "I wouldn't."
Zack spun, startled.
Angela raised a brow as his hand slowly inched toward his own weapon.
"You gonna shoot me in front of all these witnesses? I can see why Kenn picked you."
The life-long woman-hater glared at her, aware of the wolf snarling at her side. "You better control your boy!"
Angela shrugged, eyes like flint as people stopped and stared. "Looks like he's already got it covered to me. Maybe your boy should watch what he says." She flicked eyes toward her shocked son. "Come on, Charlie."
To her surprise and embarrassment, the teenager turned from her angrily. "I don't need your protection! I can take care of myself!"
"Fine."
Suddenly furious, Angela reholstered, and turned to look at Zack, aware of guards all around them watching tensely. "As you were. Maybe a good punch in the mouth for both of them will fix the problem."
She left them all standing there staring in surprise, but her heart was breaking inside. How could he treat her that way? She'd almost died coming for him. Didn't that matter at all?
"He's just a kid, Honey. He doesn't understand."
Angela turned to see Brady and Dog walking a few feet behind her. "Are you watching me?"
Marc shook his head, smiling just from getting a second alone to talk. "Just happened to hear the same things you did."
"And see?"
He nodded, grinning, "Yeah, you two are definitely related. Zack sure didn't like having a woman pointing a gun at him."
She didn't respond to his attempt to distract, thinking it didn't matter. This was hard on them both, worse than she'd expected. She spun around, moved away from Brady, knowing the more they were seen talking, the harder things would get.
Marc let her go, nodding at the Eagle trailing her. He didn't agree with everything Adrian had going on here, but he did with that. She needed a guard. Not for her defense, for the camp’s. Zack had no idea how much she had wanted to shoot first and ask questions later, but Marc had read it on her face. He moved back toward the showers with an uneasy heart. Something was happening with her, another change maybe, and he was too far away to be sure what it was or what it meant for them.
8
Kenn was the man in charge today. He was on point, with the great excuse to go where he wanted without question. He'd trailed Angela from a distance all day, and now he was almost as confused as he was angry. She was so different here!
The Angie he'd ruled for so long could never have bluffed an Eagle, wouldn't even have thought about pulling a gun, let alone be able to do it with such menace. Kenn recognized it, now that he had seen it from a distance and understood she really would have pulled the trigger on both him and Zack. Judging from her reactions and cold eyes at times, she already had.
His Angie had killed someone. That was partly responsible for his confusion. The respect that came with it was new and unfamiliar and Kenn wasn't sure what to do with such a foreign emotion when it came to his timid little woman.
The Marine couldn't help a distracted smile of pride when he thought about how well Charlie had handled himself. He'd called Zack when he saw his 16-year-old son slam Charlie into the back wall of the shower campers. Like Angela, he'd also felt the intent in the Eagle's reaction and another layer of mystery was added. He was now feeling protective of her and Charlie?
Kenn sent his relief on his way as the sun began to sink. He wasn't done watching, sorting, planning. When he was, he'd probably do something that would either get him banished or forgiven. He wasn't sure which.
Furious at Kenn for his mouth, for causing everything to be so hard, Angela stomped to the far end of the camp, angry steps taking her toward Adrian's secret base. Would she be let in without the leader with her? There was only one way to find out.
Angela met the eye of the nearest guard, looking toward the training area, then raising a brow. She was surprised by the instant nod, the smile. Had Adrian told them that she might come? Probably, but he wouldn't want anyone else to know she was here, she was suddenly sure of that.
Angela headed for the defense area next to them, feeling the cute guard's confused eyes on her. There was no one at the hay ring. After a quick look to make sure none of the camp was watching, she ducked behind a big tree and felt the Eagle's approval as she moved into the training area witho
ut witnesses.
She heard the faint crackle of a radio and knew those inside had been told she was coming. She smiled, thinking of the vigilance Adrian had spoken of on her first day here. When the Witch whispered a workout was just what she needed, Angela agreed. The skills Marc had taught her were basic and they needed to be practiced. After three straight days with no use, she felt like she was starving for this, and the fighter inside came fully awake.
Being able to sneak up on Adrian's Army would definitely be a challenge, and she turned to look at the guard who had given her permission.
After a minute of consideration (and another to reassure himself he had indeed heard her soft voice in his mind), Billy grinned, thinking Adrian would love the idea. Their blond leader had spoken to him last night about her… differences, and the laid-back limo owner couldn't wait to see if she was worthy of the respect he saw in Adrian’s eyes. He nodded once and watched as she began to sneak closer.
The huge training tent was full of shadows, and Angela chose the tall tree by the left side of the canvas, where the thick trunk was wrapped in strong elastic ties. She climbed it slowly so as not to make noise, but also to keep her nerves steady and to prevent the tent's vinyl walls from vibrating. She had no doubt it was one of the things Adrian covered with them, considering they spent most of their time under canvas.
The three guards able to see her were perimeter men and these Level Four Eagles were impressed. All of them had done something like it on their last test, but this was a woman being good at infiltration, and it was not only a confirmation of Adrian’s words, it was also a turn-on. Even when she made a big mistake, they were still rooting for her. She wasn't like the other females here. The Boss was right about that.
Angela used her knife to ever-so-slowly slit a tiny hole in the tent to peer through, grinning at her success. So far, so good. The men were no longer working, were all watching the door, waiting for her arrival with sweaty towels and curious faces. None of them winced like she did at the loud static-whine from too many radios being on in the same place.