LAW Box Set: Books 4-6 (Life After War Book 0)

Home > Other > LAW Box Set: Books 4-6 (Life After War Book 0) > Page 62
LAW Box Set: Books 4-6 (Life After War Book 0) Page 62

by Angela White


  Stanley, completely unaware, fumbled the pouch and tripped backwards, arms flailing. He landed against the gun rack, knocking it over to send firearms scattering.

  The clumsy medic immediately scrambled to grab the weapons, fingers carelessly curling around triggers.

  “Get down!”

  “The safeties are off! Get down!”

  Too late to avoid it, a recoil from one of the guns firing knocked Stanley over. He rolled down the small cliff, losing the entire armload.

  Stray rounds slammed into the ground, the gate, and the tree above them, but didn’t injure anyone.

  It was the brittle tree branch snapping that caused damage as it dropped to the ground in front of Atolius. A shower of splinters and dirt swept the shocked Indian.

  “What is wrong with you?!” Atolius shouted at Angela in angry fear. “You didn’t even consider my gift!”

  A second branch creaked above him in warning as it let go. Atolius, who hadn’t even had time to cringe from the chain of events, fled Safe Haven’s gates.

  Red Stone, unable to keep his stoic façade, burst into laughter, joining everyone else. Even Angela’s laugh was genuine and for one second, all was right with the world again.

  Watching from a short distance, Marc waved Shawn to cover Stanley’s post and then continued on his rounds, shaking his head. They kept the guns by the gate ready to go in case of attack. He would now consider changing that or banning Stanley from being near the gates. He wasn’t sure which would be harder.

  Marc spotted Dog sitting restlessly behind the shower camper that was out of rotation for refilling and joined the guard on the area with a frown. “Again?”

  Daryl shrugged, straight faced. “He’s washing her hair, boss.”

  Marc caught flashes of what Daryl had seen through the window and groaned, “That’s, uh…some hair.”

  “Yeah,” Daryl laughed. “I thought so. When he gets to the next uh, area, I’ll notify you on it.”

  Marc thought when Charlie went beyond staring at Tracy’s body, the entire camp would know. Teenagers weren’t good at hiding things like that.

  Marc waited as Daryl went to the camper door and jerked it open, as he was prone to do with any of the underage couples, and Marc was happy. It would appear as though he’d ordered it and was making sure that even his own son was following the rules.

  Daryl came out with a blank face and a ‘no problems’ motion, but Marc caught the images easily and sighed. He should go in and scold them, but this was the last day that everyone would all be together and he agreed with Daryl’s thoughts of let them have the good moment while there was time for it.

  Marc kept walking toward the rear gate. Charlie was sure about what he wanted and Tracy wasn’t going to protest. Time would test their feelings soon enough.

  Before Marc got to the rear gate, Cynthia and Jennifer fell in on either side of him. Marc didn’t say anything. He was fairly sure that he knew what they wanted and why, but going against Angie wasn’t something he was prepared to do over their roles in her plan. The females had agreed. He wouldn’t provide a pass.

  Jennifer gave Cynthia a nod, indicating for her to start.

  Suddenly terrified of being the one to ruin it all, Cynthia lost her nerve.

  Marc continued toward the sentry on the rear gate. “Keep working on that nerve, ladies. You’ll need it.”

  Cynthia and Jennifer exchanged a worried glance as they waited for him to do his check-in.

  “Things are quiet,” Jeff answered, surveying a small shadow in the distance. He’d only seen it move once, but that was enough to have him on edge. “Not still, though.”

  Marc narrowed in on the spot and almost immediately began scowling. “Have more dust put down around the perimeter and get your crew on standby with rifles. We’re going to have company on the ground.”

  Jeff scowled as he hit his radio. “Snakes again. Perimeter team two, report to the rear gate.”

  A slight flurry of activity ran through the camp as members were moved away from the danger and fighters lined up to handle the reptiles by hand if it became necessary.

  Marc hung back, watching Jeff lead the team to the top of the wall. The ladders weren’t always a good idea, but for keeping vermin away from the holes in the gates, they worked well. The shooter stood on the top and had a clear advantage.

  Pop! Pop! Pop!

  The small team fired in steady blasts that sent tension over the camp and clouds of dust into the chilly breeze.

  The minor threat was quickly taken care of.

  Pleased, Marc waited for Jeff to climb down, then asked, “We’re being jammed, right?”

  “Yep. She’s got it covered.”

  Realizing Jeff knew that part of the plan, Marc got an update. “It’s all buried and ready?”

  “Yeah. She got it going as soon as she chose this location. A couple of the cords were ripped apart during the camp set up, but we fixed it after the sheep went to sleep.” Jeff glanced at a lumpy spot in the dirt near them. “Everything we need to roll it out is under there. Got those all over the place.”

  “How long from the minute she calls it?”

  “Ten, maybe a little more or less, depending on the chaos.” That was the best they could do for communications.

  Marc gave Jeff a pointed look. “What else does she have you on?”

  The Eagle grinned. “Just the stuff I’ve waited my entire life to play with.”

  “Yeah, she likes to give us toys. More than Adrian did.” Jeff’s face clouded over, but he didn’t lower his voice. “I’ll handle that for you. In a permanent way.”

  Marc was a little surprised and more than pleased now. He’d thought Jeff would need to be converted. “I might want that at some point.”

  “I certainly would.” Jeff shrugged, turning to his post. “You say the word. I’ll go off for a while.”

  For Jeff, the thought of being alone in the woods was a good one. Being in camp, around Crista and the other pregnant women, was making him uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure why exactly, and a mission from Marc would give him some time to think. So far, all he’d done was stare at the ground while avoiding everyone, including Crista. She’d moved into the community tent yesterday, unable to take his silence. Jeff wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He also hadn’t heard that voice in his mind again and was glad. He had liked his new life the way it was and there were too many changes taking place at once for him to adjust.

  Marc fought to keep Jeff’s offer from his thoughts as he turned and found Angela walking across the camp. Near to where he was, he had little doubt that she could have heard. He had to hope she’d been distracted. Dog padded near her ankle. The way she was glancing down told him they were having a conversation. Marc was only a little relieved. At some point, she would have to face the fact that Adrian was not a good man. Once that happened, she might kill him herself.

  If she didn’t, that’s when Marc might worry, though the Eagles might do the job anyway. Marc was still being surprised by the men who were quietly declaring their loyalty to him, like Jeff. The change in leadership had gone as smoothly as Angie had predicted.

  Jennifer had used the time to gather her nerve. She stepped in front of Marc and leaned close, whispering.

  When she finished, she took Cynthia by the arm and left him standing there with waves of anger radiating from his stiff frame.

  “You told him?”

  Jennifer nodded, steering Cynthia toward the workout tent. Kevin had gone in there half an hour ago. “Yes, but only what we agreed on.”

  “Okay.” Cynthia sighed. “I hope he can help her. She’ll follow through. He has to know that.”

  “Yes,” Jennifer agreed. “He also knows we all fall if she dies. Marc will handle it.”

  Cynthia and Jennifer parted ways near the mess. Jennifer joined Millie at the center table, cooing at her baby. The humiliated medic-in-training, Stanley, was now helping Peggy look after little Autumn while Jennifer worked thi
s guard shift with Kyle. He’d sent her on a break and she wanted to spend it with her daughter. In a few days, she and her baby would be parted, maybe forever. Thought was nearly unbearable.

  Jennifer glanced toward the top of the mountain, studying the foreign clouds overhead. Ugly times were rushing toward them and it was too late to hide. All they could do now was stand and fight. Jennifer intended to give her all. Morals and ethics would be set aside this one time to bring peace. That was the only thing worth all this death and destruction to Jenifer. She said goodbye to her baby silently, refusing to cry. That time was also behind her.

  Chapter Two

  Cold Winds

  1

  “I gave you a job to do. Why isn’t it rolling yet?”

  Kenn flinched, turning to see Marc. Instead of submitting to the scold, he scowled. “You don’t know what she’s like!”

  “Don’t I?” Marc chuckled.

  “I mean it,” Kenn insisted. “She does what you want, but everyone else has to fight with her. She isn’t Angela.”

  “Yeah,” Marc agreed, thinking if she had been, he might have been tempted. Once he got over the scars, Kendle had a nice body and lots of heat to keep a man warm at night.

  “Adrian isn’t helping me,” Kenn complained, surprising Marc. “He says to leave her alone and let her settle in, so go argue with him.”

  Marc could have growled or threatened, or even hit. “Okay.”

  As he left, Kenn stared worriedly, not sure what he should do. Marc and Angela were running things, but Adrian had experience with battered women.

  Marc was thinking the same thing. If Adrian thought Kendle needed more time to adjust, he would leave it alone, but he still had her under guard. She wasn’t in control and being here, where there was no blood spilling, was rough on her.

  Marc had wanted to spend more time drilling his wishes concerning Adrian into Kenn, but a slender figure subtly dropping out of sight drew his attention. Marc headed for the livestock tent in concern.

  2

  Angela paused behind a pile of fat boulders, trying to calm her stomach. She’d been walking by the tents they used for protection while butchering and the smells and gore had been too much to take.

  Angela heaved noisily into the weeds, bringing up nothing. It seemed like it wasn’t ever going to stop and by the time it did, she was aware of not being alone anymore.

  She wiped her face on the hoodie she was wearing, then unzipped it and dropped it on the ground. When she was handed a bottle of water, she rinsed and drank until it was empty.

  “He’s going to figure it out. Tell him and let him try to help you. Or let me.”

  Angela doubled over as a sharp pain hit, and felt the witch come forward to sooth the muscles. Easy, the witch cooed.

  When she looked up, Adrian had seated himself on a large boulder and was chewing on a long blade of grass. He stared at her with a thoughtful expression and dangerously dark eyes.

  Angela felt his power swirling over her, ready to give her what she needed, but he stopped just before contact.

  Angela had tensed to tolerate (she needed it) and glowered.

  Adrian left his force slide across hers and pulled it back. “Ask me.”

  Angela’s rage flew out.

  Adrian found himself on the ground. When he stood up, she was out of sight.

  Adrian chuckled. He loved her spirit, loved pushing her to be stronger than she thought she could. Having a child was hard and she wasn’t a teenager this time, though he was sure she hadn’t had it easy then either. He wondered if she’d ever talked about it and decided it was unlikely. She was doing it all on her own, like she had been after the war and like she probably had been all her life. And there was no way she would tell him anything. Marc would have to grow the balls to dig it out of her.

  “What is she hiding?”

  Adrian turned to spot Marc standing inside the butchering tent. There was a slit cut in the canvas next to him–a quick exit point.

  “The truth you’re too scared to ask for,” Adrian answered.

  “Tell me.”

  Adrian had been waiting for this moment. “I suspect she had trouble the first time around, with Charlie. Something went wrong. I think she would have been told she shouldn’t have more kids. Maybe she was told that.”

  Marc felt his stomach drop into his feet. “How can you know that?”

  “How can you not?” Adrian demanded. “I added the clues. She knows too much about birthing to be avoiding her checkup with the doctor. She’s not eating well. I’m guessing her sleep is restless and she…” Adrian glanced away, not ready to be hit again. “She never smiles anymore, not the real ones.”

  Marc had noticed all of those things and others. She was quick to snap and slow to offer encouragement. He’d assumed she was preparing everyone for the ugliness she expected this fight to result in, but she wasn’t spending bonding time with anyone. Even the sex was distracted. He’d barely been able to get her there.

  Adrian winced at that image, but still devoured the sights and sounds of the memory in Marc’s mind. Any time with Angela would be incredible. The wolfman was a fool.

  “I may be a fool,” Marc agreed angrily. “But at least I’m not a Jody!”

  Marc went straight toward the medical area, mentally going over the questions he had. He wanted to talk to Angela about it, but she would deny anything that interfered with her battle plans. He wanted a professional opinion before confronting her.

  Marc ducked into the medical canvas, but stopped when he spotted Angela talking quietly with the doctor. He waited for her to notice him and was relieved when she waved him over instead of acting secretive.

  Angela rested against Marc’s warmth as he wrapped his arm around her. “He’s going to give me an exam and make sure things are okay. Will you stay?”

  “Sure.” Marc leered. “Can I help? I am familiar with that area.”

  Angela snorted. Even the sour-faced doctor snickered.

  “Here’s your gown. Please get changed and get on the table.”

  Angela felt a sudden sob burn the back of her throat. “I miss John.”

  “Me too,” Marc answered. It didn’t help that she’d recently been reading John’s personal notebooks and papers from his tent. A fast death compared to the lingering one from cancer that many of their sheep were still suffering was preferable, but it didn’t make the aftermath any less emotional. It had been almost two months, but the pain was still fresh.

  Marc glared at the new doctor. “We use the recliner and real sheets.”

  “That is incredibly inconvenient to the physician and unsanitary,” the doctor huffed.

  Marc stared in cold contemplation. “You know, Doctor, we don’t have a place for anyone who can’t follow our rules and ways. That includes important people, like healers. I’ll have someone come for you after mess. Let you get a hot meal first.”

  Marc steered Angela out of the tent, ignoring the doctor’s angry protests.

  “We need him,” Angela stated resignedly. “It’s why I’ve allowed it.”

  “No more,” Marc stated, loud enough to be overheard. “They live here under our care. They can follow or go.”

  “Don’t throw him out if you can help it,” Angela conceded, allowing Marc to handle this one on his own. “We will need him later.”

  Marc led her to the rear tents that wouldn’t be up much longer and directed her in to Hilda, who was sitting at a small table as if she’d known they were coming. Marc hadn’t sought the information yet, but he’d always known the sources Adrian had used.

  Angela sank down in the padded seat as Marc leaned over and whispered a few words to the German. Angela had assumed Marc wanted her to visit the real doctor, but she’d been tempted to ask Hilda to midwife for her. It was a relief to know they could agree on this.

  Hilda shrugged in response to Marc’s query. “Don’t need to pass word. When they see she’s here, they’ll follow.”

  Marc was
satisfied. The new doctor would lose half his patients and suffer the outcast status for a while. He’d either come around or be left behind, and Marc wasn’t sorry. Here, you were either one of the team or you fended for yourself outside the fence. No one was too important.

  Angela wasn’t sure that she agreed, but she suspected this lesson would teach the new doctor to get to know his patients, as any good family physician should. Hurtful or not, it was part of the job to bond with them as people, not paychecks.

  Marc stayed with Angela while Hilda checked her out. While she worked, Hilda told them of the midwifing she’d done. She didn’t say it had been done in another camp, a lifetime ago, but they knew. She’d been forced to hold those females hostage, but she’d cared for them too or those women wouldn’t have survived to give birth. They would have had their baby slit from their guts as soon as they began to show. Hilda also reminded them to keep the doctor’s students happy, so that they would stay in Safe Haven. Hilda’s age wouldn’t allow for this type of work much longer than John’s illness would have.

  After the exam, Hilda went outside with Marc while Angela dressed. They both knew she could hear them, but it was easier to pretend they were alone than to talk in front of the witch right now.

  “Well?”

  Hilda’s face was grave. “Things are twisted. She’ll need a caesarian section. If…”

  Marc paled. “If, what?”

  “If she makes it to term.” Hilda lowered her voice, though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. “I would not give you odds on that.”

  “Why not?” Marc demanded. They would cut the baby free when the time came. What else was there?

  “I told you. Things are twisted, injuries that healed incorrectly. When she begins to stretch, there will be problems.”

  Marc’s mind went straight to Kenn, but Hilda’s next words eased that fury.

  “Many women are tilted, but in her case, the doctor made a mistake. I have seen it happen.”

  Marc’s face was thunderous. “And they didn’t tell her.”

 

‹ Prev