The Survivors: Book One

by Angela White

  Adrian moved to the beaded doorway of the Mess, to the cook. Hilda was a plump-faced German woman they’d picked up in central Nevada, another one he wasn’t sure about yet. Like the reporter - Adrian didn’t where she fit into his plans for their future, but he had little doubt they both did. And if one of these two alert females discovered his secret, it was fate. They wouldn’t though, he had faith in that. At least not until these people were able to survive without him. Then it would be open season.

  “Can I get a Bud?”

  The big-shouldered cook moved immediately, eyes unreadable, and he made a mental note to talk to her at a later time as he turned back to his people. If she wanted work to do that kept her out of view, he had that, but he would not let her waste that sharp intelligence.

  Adrian looked back at his camp. “This area is bad, dangerous. We all feel it. We can’t stay long without getting sick. After the contest, I’d like to make some real miles and get away from here now that we know NORAD is gone.”

  There was no real response except darkening faces at the mention of the compound many of them had secretly hoped would be standing and willing to take in survivors, but the muttering was continuous. The large group wasn’t even completely silent while Adrian was talking.

  Adrian took the towel-wrapped bottle with a nod, “Okay, any new business?”

  “Yes.” Alex Ford, a young math teacher from Montana stood up nervously. “Are we gonna... I mean... Can we celebrate the holidays? Some of the kids have asked and we’re not sure what to tell them.”

  The well-dressed, bald man sat back down and Adrian appeared to be considering, but this was easy, one of the things he’d covered in his own head over a month ago.

  “Only the ones that matter, I think. The Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, New Years, for sure. Memorial Day.”

  “What about Easter and Christmas?” Cynthia asked, hurriedly hand-copying as much of the meeting word for word as she could, and Adrian shook his head.

  “Not as a whole camp. Hardly anyone believed in them, just used them as an excuse to indulge or buy off loved ones rather than spending real time with them. I won’t even get into the money and stores and what they did to our lives. Each person can do what they want and I won’t be upset to see kids hunting eggs or dressing up for Halloween, but I won’t let a few force it on everyone else either.”

  There were nods and frowns, again about evenly split, and Adrian took a moment to open his beer and take a healthy swallow, wisely giving his sheep a minute to settle in with the idea that even the holidays had changed for them.

  “Guess we might all like Halloween a little more if one of you guys could do some magic,” his common joke drew smiles, but his eyes didn’t tell them how much he wished it were true. "All right, anyone else have new business?”

  “I have some suggestions,” the doctor's voice was respectful and Adrian waved a hand, liking the hard intelligence in the short, rounded man’s faded blue eyes. Very new in camp and just out of a self-imposed quarantine, the MD had already made friends.

  Adrian gestured with his bottle. “Suggest away.”

  The aged healer stood up, sending a strong, menthol whiff of Ben-Gay over the gathered crowd.

  “There should be more fruit and juice for everyone, along with daily vitamins. We’re being exposed to a lot of poisons, especially in places like this, and the antioxidants in the fruits and juice will boost our immune systems.”

  Silence greeted his words, and John went on carefully, hoping he wasn’t about to step on anyone’s toes, namely Adrian’s.

  “I’ve only been here a couple of days, but I’ve been a doctor for a long time. I can tell you what illnesses we’ll face in the coming months and how to prevent some of them.”

  Adrian gave him a barely perceptible nod, aware and pleased at the man’s use of we. “What kinds of things can we expect if we ignore your suggestions?”

  John’s answers were fast, sure, “Scurvy, rashes, nasty colds, weak immune systems that will let the sniffles last for weeks instead of days, migraines, vomiting and diarrhea for weeks at a time. The list gets bad after that. We’re slowly absorbing all the toxic chemicals that fell with the bombs. Once there’s enough built up, we’ll start getting sick, start dying.”

  The crowd stirred uneasily but Adrian did nothing to calm them as most were expecting. They needed a reality check, he thought, his mind seeing idiots catching rainwater on their tongues the last time it stormed. They knew less than nothing.

  John noticed Adrian’s eyes on him and the retired Army Medic recognized unspoken orders. He wanted to scare them. John nodded. That was easy. Use the truth.

  “Our biggest threat is the radiation. It’s usually 90% fatal at high doses, but it’s the low doses we have to worry about now. It’s a slow death that finds each person’s weak link. It wakes up dormant genes, like Cancer and MS, and since exposure kills the immune system, we’ll be attacked from the inside. The immune system is the army and though the radiation can’t be stopped, it can be slowed by a body whose army is strong, well taken care of. For us, it could mean only 15% will die instead of 90%.”

  “But them bombs is gone and the toxics soaked into the ground. Why are we worryin’? We ain’t even seen any radiation vics,” a slender, older white woman in the front stated, and people immediately began speaking up.

  “I did.”

  “We have.”

  John held up a hand, and Adrian was pleased to see the crowd’s talk fall off to mostly silence, “Those who were exposed during the War are gone now. Our threats come from the weather dropping it on us, and from the radioactive debris still on the ground where we sleep and need to grow food. It takes a long time for the toxics, as you call them, to go away. You see that layer of smog when its daylight, makes it look like dusk all the time? It’s the toxins. Until that’s gone, we’re not safe. Near the bomb zones, that’ll take 30 years or more.”

  The crowd was muttering and murmuring, whispering and worrying, and Adrian finished his beer and smoke before he spoke, shuttered eyes pleased with the doctor. He’d have no trouble getting a good day’s travel out of them now.

  “So you want responsibility for our health? Want to care for us? The right to add to our laws, once voted on, comes with it.”

  The Doctor was aware of what was going on and very surprised that it was being offered so soon. “Not the laws part, I’m no politician, but yes to the rest. My oath didn’t die with my country.”

  Adrian smiled. “Well said. You’ve got my vote, but it’s theirs that matter,” he stated, waving a hand at the closely listening people. “All those in favor of putting the suggestions on the ballot?”

  John slid his glasses back on as he sat down, and when Adrian casually held up his own hand, both men were secretly relieved that nearly everyone else did too.

  “So be it.” he held up a sheet of paper. “The bottom is blank. Fill it in as advice. A D V I C E. Okay, any other new business?”

  No one spoke, and Adrian motioned for Neil to start passing around the pens and papers. The suspicious guard’s green eyes were emotionless even while he was grinning and saying all the right things. Something was going on with Kenn and Adrian, Neil could feel it, and what came to mind was the reason his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “All right, last thing - members of the moral board need to stay after the vote. We have a possible violation to judge.”

  Kenn, and everyone else, wondered what unspoken rule had been broken. The big ones went to trials that were witnessed by the whole camp, or so he’d heard. There hadn’t been one since he’d come here, hadn’t even been a case of thievery, but the moral code was strict, too. There had been one moral vote since he’d joined Safe Haven: the stalker was no longer a member of this camp.

  “Which rule?” Roger Sawyer, the current foreman asked.

  Adrian shook his head, the lie falling easily, “None directly, and that’s why we’re doing a closed hearing. I won’t ruin an innocent ma
n’s chances for a new life here.”

  He said it for ear candy and it worked, but the blond was sure the man would be gone before he did rounds tonight. Leon and innocent hadn’t been close in a long time.

  Roger grinned, and while Adrian hated that gleam of eagerness in the ex-Pinkerton detective’s brown eyes, he also understood the deep need to punish those who were even the smallest bit responsible for all they had suffered.

  Adrian waited until Kenn dropped his vote into the metal lockbox, then joined him at a small, empty table in the back. The rest of the camp was crowded around the front tables to watch the votes get counted.

  “That was some of the slickest shit I’ve ever heard,” Kenn’s voice was low, admiring.

  Adrian grinned at him. “Maybe you’ll MC for me sometime.”

  Kenn laughed, very happy with the words. That was exactly the kind of authority he wanted here. “I’m not a public speaker.”

  Adrian let it go, sure the Marine would be, and there would be no one better. “How about coming by my tent an hour after everything's done? We’ll have a beer and a conversation.”

  Kenn agreed casually, heart rate picking up. This was it. “Sure. Should I bring anything?”

  Adrian shook his head, face serious, “Just your stamina, Marine. I’m gonna need to be drunk when this night's work is over.”

  5

  The vote went Adrian’s way on all of the issues and as the crowd slowly broke up, their eyes showed they were confident that their Guardian was doing his job. Their calm gazes also said they’d find out what rule had been broken and what was done about it.

  In a short time, the Mess was mostly empty, the camp quieting down as everyone settled in for the night. Kenn wanted to stay, longed to be on the inside, but caught Adrian’s eye instead of waiting until he was asked to leave.

  “I volunteered for a double on guard duty tomorrow, so I’m gonna hit the showers, then the rack. Call me if you need anything.” Kenn was saying he assumed he hadn’t been here long enough to be on the inside, showing a humility he didn’t even remotely feel.

  Adrian took the opportunity without hesitation, telling them the Marine’s status had changed. It had been suspected for a while and talked about openly since the encounter with the birds three days ago, but there would be some surprises when they found out how high up he was about to be placed.

  “Hang around, will ya? I need someone on my right.”

  There was a ring of magic to the words, and Kenn kept the triumph out of his voice by sheer will. “You know it.”

  Adrian gave Neil a nod before turning to the thirteen men and women waiting together, and the trooper left with a scowl on his face. It was as he and Kyle feared. That coveted position was being given to Kenn.

  “We’ve set up a hooch near the parking area. Follow Doug. He’s the one with the red vest and shoulders so wide we could land a plane on ‘em. Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible.”

  The mood had turned somber, but Kenn couldn’t help the swagger in his step as he walked on the boss man’s right. They followed the board members who had no trouble catching up to Doug. His limp was the only reason Kenn didn’t consider him competition.

  Big-nosed, deeply tanned Kyle was on Adrian’s left and Kenn wondered what the stocky goon thought about those words, grinning to himself. Probably hated it, but he could eat shit and die. Nothing he could do, but suck it up.

  The thought made Kenn feel like laughing. The two men hadn’t spoken a word to each other in 2 full days, since the first gun class he’d taught, where they’d both said too much, barely avoiding a fight. Now Kenn was about to be given some authority and he planned to rub it in every chance he got.

  “Stay close to this guy. He has a nasty temper, and I’m sure this type of proceeding isn’t new to him.”

  Kenn hid a disappointed look at the words. They were just chasers for a prisoner?

  “The punishment might be,” Kyle stated, pulling his black cap tighter over his dark curls, and Adrian nodded, but didn’t smile.

  “True. Don’t let him intimidate the girls. They’re already scared; afraid he might sneak back and hurt them in retaliation.”

  Kenn saw them exchange a look that said the violator wouldn’t be able to come back because he would be dead. Jealousy flared up in Kenn, made him push a little, test his new place before it was official. “Can I ask or should I wait?”

  Kyle listened openly, waiting. A refusal would mean they had read too much into Adrian’s words. Kenn might not be empty clothes, the birds proved that, but there was still something wrong with him.

  “Two counts of sexual assault, two counts of death threats against women and kids, and two counts of physical assault. Those are all death penalty crimes here and he knows it.”

  "Sorry about your luck," Kenn thought, gloating silently, but he immediately brought the Marine out when they stepped into the big tent and saw the defendant’s huge, tattooed body. Leon was easily 270 lbs.

  As he and Kyle stepped to each side of the sullen biker, they exchanged a look that said truce - for Adrian’s sake. They would do this together and be hard from the beginning. It wouldn’t take much for this to get out of control, the pierced suspect wasn’t even handcuffed, and both men were very aware of how little they liked Adrian being close to this guy. Anything could go wrong once the verdict was in.

  Nothing did, and less than an hour later, a sedated Leon was being escorted out of camp by men who had orders to kill him and piss on the body, a request from one of the victims.

  Adrian wandered the camp, mind worrying over the order. He walked in the darkest shadows around the flapping tents, occasionally listening in, eyes hard and mind full of guilt. Leon wouldn’t be missed, had contributed almost nothing, and the loss of life still made him feel like a failure, as a leader.

  Not that he’d change his mind. He could still call Kyle, but he knew the Mobster didn’t want the biker to get a stay of execution after what they’d heard him admit to, and he wouldn't. The entire world was better off without Leon. Right or wrong, he’d made a leader’s choice, based on what was best for everyone here. It was how he made all of his decisions now. It was the only way his people would survive.

  Adrian’s feet carried him to the medical tent, but he hesitated to go in despite knowing he needed to officially invite the smart healer onto the payroll. Doctors were notoriously temperamental, and this one, having been here only a short time, would not be pleased with this night's work. It had taken nearly a dozen men to hold Leon down and though John had done what was asked without protest, the hypocrisy of it had to be fresh in his mind.

  Headlights flashed, and Adrian moved farther back into the tent’s shadows, seeing it was Tonya rolling into camp in a very red, very new convertible that was clearly not easy on gas like they had voted for at the last meeting.

  She parked in front of her tent, making him frown at the second rule violation. As she disappeared inside the deluxe vinyl structure, he scribbled a note in his book, wondering which sucker had helped her put it up. She would gas her own car all this week and maybe the doctor's idea about a mandatory quarantine zone would work. She could be the first…

  “… new place, Anne, a hard new world, where everything has an uglier price.”

  Adrian didn’t budge as the husband and wife talked about what had happened, unknowingly moving closer to his hiding place while they cleaned up the large, two-sided tent.

  “But, it’s barbaric, Johnnie! Branding him like an animal! It’s...it’s barbaric!”

  “What else is there? No jails, no drugs, no mental help, and really, those things never worked on men like that anyway.”

  Adrian heard her frustrated sigh and understood that criminal justice was an old discussion between them.

  “He couldn’t just let him go, Anne. He had to make sure that everyone who meets that monster will see him for what he is.”

  The husband’s voice was patient, still teaching after all the
ir years of marriage, and he had Adrian’s complete attention.

  “It isn’t right! We heal, we don’t hurt! This isn’t how America’s supposed to be!”

  John gave a harsh snort that made Adrian tense.

  “This is exactly how it should have been, and maybe we wouldn’t have destroyed ourselves.”

  “But, the whole word?”

  “It’ll keep him from easily hiding or removing it.”

  “It’ll get him killed and you're responsible. You did it.”

  “This is a good place and I’ll do what I have to so that we can stay, but this sin I’ll pay for willingly. It’s the only way now, and let me tell you a secret, my dear sweet wife. I won’t carry the burden alone. That young man feels it a lot more than he shows. He values life, all life. It’s in the way he cares for his people, for his farm of exotic humans. I’ll give him my help in any way he needs, and I hope you will too. He’s the few, the good, and I suspect we were allowed to survive because he needs us.”

  Definitely right to offer John a place on the council, Adrian thought, moving away. That old man had his head on straight. He’d seen it at the meeting and heard it just now, but he had watched it during the punishment too. John had handled not only himself, but the Eagles around him with a calm sense of leadership, and because of that, the branding hadn’t been as ugly as the members of the voting board had expected. Most of them would sleep tonight.

  It only eased his mind a little though, that he now had at least two of the six or seven he’d been promised in his dreams, and he spent a lot of time worrying over the rest. Had he passed them somewhere? He hoped not, because he and his grunts couldn’t keep doing all the work. Eventually, they would miss something or endanger these people and lose their right to lead.

  Adrian sighed, not as excited as he wanted to be, even though his first was here, and he was about to offer him the place that every man in this camp wanted. The weight of this leadership was heavier than anything he’d ever carried before the War, and he was starting to feel a bit winded.