by Angela White
The Private disappearing into the building made them all uneasy and they waited nervously for him to come out.
“Yes! Extra cheesy!”
The call let them relax and grin, knowing he’d found something they would all share in.
The Private emerged from the darkness carrying two familiar bags. One was open.
“Musta popped from the pressure of the desk it was under, but they’re still good!”
He crunched loudly in demonstration and the others crowded close to get their share.
Both bags were quickly gone as the sleeping men were woken to join them. The sound of happy crunching was all the noise any of them could hear.
The Private reached for the dwindling bag, blinking as sweat rolled into his eyes. Was it hot out now?
They all stopped eating at roughly the same time, but it was too late. The men began falling unconscious from the chemicals Kendle had rubbed on the outside of the bag.
When all of them were down, she drew her knife and entered their fire light with red orbs and a harsh grin.
14
“Where’s Kendle?”
Marc approached the small crowd angrily, thinking she was in the center, being hurt. What he saw as they parted to let him through chilled his blood.
Marc stared for a long time, considering. She was too far gone to save.
He slowly turned away from the gruesome scene. He had only one place left to go for answers.
How do I help her?
The demon roused himself tiredly. He was ready for this, knew to be prepared, but it was still regret in his answer. Nothing. Only Adrian’s light might, but the odds are slim.
Why can’t I heal her?
You would use your new life credit on this woman?
No. If I have a credit to give, it belongs to my son, Marc answered slowly, thinking it through and still missing what that meant.
As you wish.
What if…what if someone else does it?
Any of our kind may heal, the demon replied. If they can push it back enough, Adrian will help.
Marc was relieved to have a solution that he could live with. He waved Sebastian and Natoli along, moving carefully to where she was still slicing. “Kendle?”
Kendle spun around, throwing her knife.
Marc used his kit to capture the blade. He grinned, impressed. “Nice.”
Kendle blinked away the haze, but not the lust.
“Not me,” Marc denied. “One of the others and then you’ll be his or passed around.”
“I make my own rules!” she snarled.
“Then I’ll shoot you here and now,” he warned.
Kendle wanted him to. She was horrified by what she’d become. She was also a survivor, a child of the light who yearned to be normal again.
Kendle slid to her knees. “Help me or kill me. You pick.”
Marc approached her without fear and scooped her into his arms.
Kendle let Marc take her back to camp. When he held a canteen toward her, she dutifully cleaned up, not caring that dozens of men stared as she stripped and changed into the clean clothes Marc held out. She liked the hot feeling, liked the respect and envy they gave Marc for it. She also loathed it and longed for her little island. She’d been happy there, once upon a time.
15
“Here they come. Remember what I’ve shown you, how you’ve practiced,” Marc eased them into battle mode, aware of nerves. “Not one sighting, not one crunch of gravel.”
Marc pulled his mask down, shoving into their minds. We are the ghosts of America. We do this for our country, because she cannot do it for herself.
Eager to live up to that reputation, the thirty fighters in the rocks around him covered their grins and their posts. The things Marc had begun to teach them were the stuff of legend and fantasy. They couldn’t wait to practice it on the enemy.
Marc smothered his own leer of intense need. He hadn’t done this since before the war, and never under these completely free circumstances. The things he and the demon had come up with were awful.
“Three minutes,” Marc reminded. “Set alarms.”
Wrists were brandished shortly for each of them to hit the button on alarms that were already set. As the numbers began spinning, Marc pulled up his hood and fastened it to the collar. “Justice will be served.”
Those words were a mental switch that Marc was installing. When hit, concentration on only one goal became easier, survival and success more likely. Against this enemy, he and his team needed any edge they could find.
Marc motioned them down as the dust cloud that preceded the government thickened on the nearest rise. The ghosts in black and gray observed in silence as the danger came into view.
The front line of soldiers made it to the canyon mouth and started to funnel in, thickening the lines into a blur of marching legs. Slight crumbles of rock on their sides and above them made some of the soldiers react in concern, but most were uncaring. They’d already come a good distance and there was a lot longer to go. Few of them liked this duty, but when command orders came down, you followed them or a bullet followed you.
More rock crumbling drew attention upward in nervous glances that shifted the line of soldiers into occasional disorder and quick shoves. It sent a faint burst of excitement through the Point men, and allowed grins and joking. Other missions they’d performed had been almost fun, but this one–going to wipe out the only known camp of survivors trying to rebuild–had been weighing heavily on them.
“Maybe we won’t have to kill them,” one of the men on the right Point commented, awkwardly avoiding a tangle of weeds. “Maybe they’ll surrender.”
“Their women, showers, and food–in that order,” one of the others responded.
Chuckles floated through the canyon.
“Hey, watch out!”
A large rock tumbled down the canyon wall and slammed into the base of fallen stones lining the narrowing path. Men jumped out of the way, swearing as they hit a tangled mess of tripwire and triggers hidden under the debris. The last of the razor wire from the slaver battle jerked up between the haphazard rows.
“Ahh!”
“Trap!”
“Go back!”
Another trigger was hit as the men turned; snapping a second sharp wire up to do the same damage it had caused at the rest stop. Blood coated the narrow canyon mouth and stones lining it.
The rear of the platoon began issuing orders that had to be relayed. In that time, two more rows of men vanished in a glinting snap of wire and guts.
Panic ensued from those closest, soldiers wildly firing upward as they fled into the safety of the halting troops. A quick barricade went up and the order to open fire upon sight was sent.
Wind-driven dust spun across the rocks and valley in front of them, small animals scurrying under the cover of the sand.
Nothing else moved.
Now needing to clear the area, the entire platoon was stopped for an hour while the men in charge made their choice either to continue this way, clearing as they went, or to find another route through the mountains. When they decided to keep going, the shadow riders were delighted. They’d secured all areas of travel, but this was the fastest route to Safe Haven and they’d laid things on the thickest here. The platoon would spend a lot of time searching and clearing to make it through, which would buy Angela more time to get the camp ready to fight the soldiers who did survive Marc’s horrible fun land. This would be the longest journey that any of these soldiers had ever undertaken, he would make sure of that.
Dusk found the platoon in the same place, settling in for the night as small teams continued to clear their path. As these men removed the more obvious decoys, ghosts went behind and replaced the minor ambushes with something more lethal. They also traveled the rocks above the platoon, getting into position. Phase Four had begun.
15
A rough hand shook Quinn awake.
“Marc called from Denver on the coded channel. The so
ldiers are coming down 25.”
A chill of doom flooded the base, snapping Eagles awake with fear in their hearts.
Quinn instantly went into authority mode, issuing orders and keeping things calm, but inside, he was as upset as they were. Each of them had hoped Marc would say there was nothing coming, that they could all go home.
“Not happening now,” Quinn muttered, unrolling the map Marc had given them.
“Where are we on the avenues of approach?”
“AAs are almost finished,” Shane reported. “Still working on the reservoirs. Little over half on those.”
“All work on the AAs are suspended until we get those reservoirs wired. Set a skeleton crew here, the rest of us get over there come dawn.”
Shane went to tell the others. The reservoirs were a powerful defense that stood between them and the enemy. It had to be ready.
“Marc said to expect riders that will help.”
Quinn was glad to hear it. They would get the reservoirs done and then the avenues of approach would have to be completed or the enemy would be able to go around their other traps.
“Send a rider to Safe Haven, let them know.”
“Can we call?”
“No,” Quinn chose. “Marc’s smart enough to contact us without getting caught. We aren’t able to do that from here. It’s time to go quiet.”
Chapter Sixteen
These Dreams
Tishomingo State park, MS
1
Damn.
Back to the heavily protected flap, Angela knew who had just entered the training tent. She ignored him as she went on with her own workout. The canvas was deserted except for them, dawn’s dim light still an hour away. The only shadows moving outside were Eagles.
Tishomingo Park was almost as ugly as the city she’d avoided to bring them here. The leaves under their feet were old, decaying and treacherous. The ground was shifty, like a sinkhole might be waiting, and everyone was glad they weren’t staying long. The derelict buildings and sheds were eerie. Angela had camped them in the family area of the park, but put a 24-hour detail on the bridge that some of the camp had been crazy enough to ask about.
Aware that she was putting off the vibes of a frustrated woman, Adrian stayed on the opposite side of the tent. After his nightmare, he needed the workout.
Angela tried to concentrate on herself, needing the calm that came from physical action, but her eyes kept straying to the beautifully built blond who had stripped his shirt and begun doing one arm pushups in rapid succession.
Tan skin and rippling muscles glowing in the darkness grabbed her repeatedly. Angela shoved the bar up with a grunt that was half effort, half annoyance with herself. It was just another Eagle without a shirt. During the days they camped, this tent was full of them.
But it wasn’t any man. It was Adrian.
Sure he was distracting her, Adrian switched to the small hay room with a tight face. She was an exotic mix of woman and warrior, and it was easy for him to let his thoughts run wild. Pushing her was hard on his control. If not for the coming battle, none of this would be happening. He appeared to have lost control and he needed them to all think that. The truth was that he was still herding her, like he had been all along.
Adrian spun, ducked, kicked and punched, dipping to swing wide. Was there more he could do to make her hate him?
“Are you asking me?” Angela inquired from the doorway.
Adrian grinned bitterly. “Wasn’t sure if you might lie. You look…upset.”
Angela shrugged, aware of the ice around her heart at the thought of Marc. “Same shit, different dogs.”
Adrian knew she didn’t need to hear the right choice again. She knew it well.
“Yes, I do.”
Adrian returned to his kicks and spins, wondering why she was here.
She went into the small room, careful to stay away from his hard, sweaty body, but his smells were thick in the air.
Angela inhaled deeply, lids fluttering closed. Unaware that he’d moved, Angela blinked when he appeared inches from her face.
“If you’d know me, then know me!”
The urgency in his voice was impossible to ignore.
Angela nodded nervously. “I’d know you well.”
Adrian’s eyes lit up a blinding red and he dropped his lips to hers.
Angela jerked awake, gasping. She looked around, arm going to her mouth to keep the ragged breathing from her guards. What the hell was that?
2
“I’d like to go.”
Still wearing a bit of that outsider shell, Tracy’s needs were rarely asked for. Angela immediately agreed as the males at the table began to protest.
“Sure. Kenn would be happy to have an extra pair of hands. Tonya will go along as XO.”
Angela was aware of the tension at her table. They would get over it. “Double the guards and you two wear the new vests. Got it?”
Angela closed her notebook as the men fought to keep from arguing. “I’ll be at the medical area for a while, then the QZ, then showers. Unless there’s anything else?”
They were having her tell where she’d be now, on top of the other new protections, but Angela wasn’t protesting. It had taken a long time to come up from the drugs the kids had hit her with and she’d been alone in the dark all that time.
No one spoke.
Angela went on her way, satisfied. The rookie females had been a wreck for Kenn on their first mission, but this would be different. Her team was better now, more able to think and then react. Not that there wouldn’t be dangerous moments, but Angela thought the women could finally be more of a help than hindrance. These runs would tell her if she was right. If so, then the team could branch out more, try harder things. Angela couldn’t wait.
“We’ve got company. A lot of it.”
Those words sent Safe Haven into minor panic until Angela answered the call, “You didn’t sound the alarm. I assume they’re friendly.”
“Some type of traveling store, like the one we saw in the Midwest.”
Angela grinned cheerfully at those around her. “Maybe they’ll have some chocolate to trade!”
Calm flashed overhead as Angela waved a few Eagles along. It wasn’t for her protection, but their peace of mind. She had a full team now anytime she met with new arrivals or left the perimeter for any reason. Another assassin had gotten through yesterday and was killed by Dog as he tried to slit her throat. The attacks were becoming more and more brazen, and her protection had her in sight even while she showered. Angela didn’t argue about that either. She liked breathing.
The group of travelers was in a variety of dusty, dented vehicles and Angela took in the personal quarters with interest. She and Adrian had talked briefly about converting Safe Haven’s vehicles to accommodate living, but had chosen to still make the switch to campers.
“We’ll check them out first,” Kevin stated. “Wait for the call.”
Angela observed eagerly as Kyle’s team went out the gate. This was the first group that had come to Safe Haven for anything other than trouble or sanctuary. There was an even mix of men and women driving, and all of them were smiling and waving, appearing as stunned as Safe Haven was to find out that another large group had survived.
“We aren’t the only ones,” Cynthia breathed on her left. “I was so sure.”
“Fate must like them,” Adrian commented, joining the females. He, too, was encouraged by the healthy drivers that were turning off engines and climbing from their seats.
“Clear.”
Angela strolled out to talk with the two men who came toward her and the Eagles followed, all scowling when she didn’t hesitate to go right up to them without her gun drawn.
Adrian only tried not to smirk.
“I’m Angela. Welcome to Safe Haven.”
The man on the left, an ugly mole over his brow, laughed and shook her hand vigorously. “I can’t believe it! You’re real.”
Angela chuckled, and sho
ok with the smaller, less friendly of the two. “You must have heard our calls.”
“Yes, ma’am, but we were sure it was a trick.”
Angela viewed them curiously. “A trick?”
The cheerful mood fell to the ground.
“They’re calling to them in the East, trying to get refugees to come in. We went west, hoping to find more people for our convoy.” The man gestured at the fifteen or so vehicles neatly lined up behind his. “We did, too, but your group, well, now that’s the most people any of us have seen since leaving New York.”
Angela was surprised to find there had been any survivors from that doomed region, but didn’t say so. “You plan to stay on the road or maybe join up with another group?”
The man frowned slightly. “If you’re real, then the coming fight is, too.”
Angela pointed at the walls of her camp, aware of Adrian standing on her right. The bulletproof canopies they’d been building had been put aside under Marc’s new plan. They were being used to strengthen their existing defenses now.
“We’re a little short on hands. If you decide it is your fight, you’d be welcome.”
“We don’t want any part in fighting the government!” the harder man spat.
Angela’s lips pursed in disapproval. “That’s your choice to make, but I won’t invite you inside unless you’re staying.”
“We’ve got items for trade,” mean man protested lightly. He just didn’t want any part of the battle.
“I’ll shop for a minute, and then maybe we’ll see if a few of the others want to come out. Show me your stuff.”
The men directed her to the first vehicle, where the driver was busy setting up shelves and stands to display his merchandise.
“What’s your currency?”
“Food and water are golden, but we’ll work with about anything we don’t have. Same as you?”
“Yes.”
Kevin watched Cynthia take Angela’s right as she and Adrian went to meet the group, and thought of her words.