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

by Angela White

  Marc found himself humming along with them. He’d learned that one while they fought together. It called to him in a way that made him feel like he’d known it for years. It was a deep, rumbling range that reached inside and reminded him that this was how he was meant to live. He’d never felt more spiritually fulfilled than the weeks he’d spent with the Indians. It was something he would have to talk to Angela about, if their attempt to live in the mountains after this war failed. He knew she could leave, though it would hurt her. For Marc, he wasn’t sure he could even step onto the boat, let alone sail away. It was the one thing that might actually come between them.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Time to Go

  1

  Samantha watched the new base from the fork of another tree, this one covered in slimy mold. She figured the soldiers wouldn’t expect her to pick a contaminated tree over the healthy ones. She’d set up her blind with that in mind. The soldiers below her had cooking fires burning, enjoying the end of a day.

  Offended by their lack of concern, Sam waited impatiently for her next scheduled part in the plan. She wanted to change their perception of safety right now. She hated only wounding. Not killing Donner was going to be a mistake, and in the hours since, Sam had almost decided that when she took aim again, it wouldn’t be to follow orders. She could feel the waves of menace from the Major even when he was miles away and under the thick cover of his plentiful men. Angela might have him on the run because she’d attacked first and so quickly, but Samantha felt strongly that Major Donner was a major downer. He would have his revenge.

  Sam also agreed that Angela needed him alive to keep his men together while they were slaughtered. One thousand soldiers roaming around these mountains, with no clear leader, would have been as bad as the war, if not worse. The Army wanted things and would negotiate. A large group of AWOL soldiers would be a nightmare for anyone they caught. To keep them together, Donner had to be wounded, not killed. Samantha had done that, enjoyed it immensely, but she was torn on a repeat.

  Samantha carefully took the thermos from her backpack and twisted off the lid. The room temperature vegetable soup was a satisfying reminder of the harvest she’d help to provide, the skills she’d learned. Sam enjoyed what would probably be the best meal she had for a while. From here on out, she was scavenging her food from the land, as she’d been taught. Angela hadn’t wanted to agree to that, but Sam needed to do it to know that she would survive on her own, that she’d changed from the weak person she’d been before the war.

  And all without my help, the demon praised sadly. I’m not needed. I understand that’s why you don’t want me.

  It was said just right, bringing guilt that caused Samantha to sigh heavily. Let’s get through the next week and then maybe we’ll talk, okay?

  The demon’s mood lift from receiving that answer gave Samantha an immediate rush of adrenaline that would help keep her alert. She noted that reaction, thinking she might need it later.

  Yes, master!

  Samantha frowned, but didn’t correct the wording. She had no idea what she might unleash by a name change. When this was all over, she and Adrian or Angela would have to sit down and discuss a few hundred things.

  The storm tracker finished her meal and washed it down with a few sips from her canteen. In a bit, she would climb down for a bathroom break, scout her immediate surroundings and then return for a few hours of cold sleep while the basecamp below dreamed of happier times. When the signal came, she would remind the enemy that world was gone forever.

  Pausing in her scan, Sam paid particular attention to the wind. It carried smells and feels, and the occasional scream, but she was too conflicted for true concentration. She didn’t try to force more.

  Snap!

  The breaking twig told Sam she wasn’t alone. She went still except for the hand sliding towards her gun.

  Sam heard a deep sigh in the darkness. Unlike the morons in the slasher films, she clamped her lips together and stayed motionless.

  That deep sound of misery came again and Sam peered in the night, trying to discern who it was that she was about to kill.

  “It’s us, Sam.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “We freaked her out. Shut up, will you?”

  Tonya and Kendle came through the trees.

  Sam grinned in relief.

  “Damn twig, right?” Tonya flushed. “I know it was.”

  Samantha snickered. She kept watch as Tonya flipped on a pen light long enough to see by, while they climbed the two trees adjacent to the one that Samantha was hidden in. In the morning, Kendle and Tonya would go their own way. Shortly after that, all of Angela’s teams would start their full assault on the enemy.

  The three hens settled into their high perches for the night without the expected chatter, but they were all secretly glad they weren’t alone. Even Sam was okay with it when the predawn hours brought thick, slick fog. Alone, she wouldn’t even have been able to doze deeply, but with a teammate on each side, she had no trouble resting.

  2

  Tony struggled violently when he woke, straining to scream through the gag as he tossed his body around. He’d tried to take Tommy’s gun.

  Peggy darted him. When he hit the side of the cliff wall and knocked himself back out, Peggy was relieved. Kyle had just dropped him off, along with a couple of others they were having issues with, but Peggy was tired of playing double agent. Now that the cameras and constant observation was gone, the mood of these cave dwellers wasn’t bad. However, Peggy had been with them for the mini-riots. She knew it never took much to bring out the ugliness in people. If her instructions tomorrow were the same as today’s had been, Peggy planned to get in touch with Angela and complain. If the camp members in here found out she was helping to hold their own people captive in the deeper parts of this cave, she might be killed. At the very least, Angela’s plan would be shot.

  “You back here?”

  Peggy paled, dropping the curtain just as Doug came around the stack of crates.

  “Stealin’ a few minutes for yourself?” Doug accused. “Them babies is cryin’ for you again. Hilda wants a break. She’s working doubles now, taking up that new doctor’s slack, you know?”

  Peggy tossed him the towel from her shoulders. “Take a turn, will ya? I’m not done being selfish yet.”

  Doug returned to the baby area with a huge scowl that made Hilda reluctant to let him help. He didn’t look like he could handle something so fragile.

  Peggy only took another minute for herself and then she too rejoined Safe Haven. Angela had made it clear that the camp had to be kept in the dark until the fighting began. Once the blood was spilling, they wouldn’t be staying here. Peggy might be able to cover it a bit longer. However, if this peaceful calm held much longer, someone was bound to stumble onto their captive members and then things would get nasty.

  Peggy gave a nod to the Eagles on duty, glad of them, and went to help with the infants who didn’t like being away from their parents.

  3

  Safe Haven wasn’t alone.

  Angela had sent camp after camp to surround hers, to fight and die for the offspring hidden there if needed. Those brave men and women kept guard while the fog rolled down the mountain like a waterfall.

  As the fog came in, covering everything known and foreign, another small group joined the others. These new men were accepted simply because they’d arrived and squatted on the fringes, where the fighting would happen first. It was another layer of protection for those in the center and the extra camp wasn’t questioned, but welcomed.

  Inside this small group, fifteen of Donner’s men wearing Eagle uniforms put up Safe Haven tents, and settled down to wait–wolves among the sheep. Their recon work had told them each team was required to know every member of their group for identification purposes, but no one could know every team that was being sent out, thanks to Angela’s grand plan. It was the only slipup so far, but Donner had capitalized on it as
soon as he’d heard. His personal team had been sent straight to Safe Haven’s fence, before Donner himself had even touched down. It left him vulnerable, but it put his pieces exactly where he wanted them. Close enough to grab Angela.

  4

  “I want that update. Now!”

  The startled Corporal began stammering, “We’ve lost f-five dozen men in two days. We h-have three missing patrols, and uh, we found this message… It’s written in blood, sir.”

  The Corporal handed Donner the message overtop the trembling medic kneeling at Donner’s bloody boots.

  You should have gone south.

  Donner sneered at Angela’s blood warning. “What else?”

  The Corporal pulled himself together, staring at the tent wall instead of the blood. He’d never been in combat. “No word from either base you… xited.”

  Donner glared at the near implication of cowardice. “Get out.”

  The man did, leaving the tent flap open for the soldiers outside to hear the screams they were all hoping for as the slug was removed. Donner hadn’t earned any friends.

  Donner shouted as the medic pulled the slug from his leg. Blood was everywhere, gauze and tubes of medicine spread out on the canvas floor.

  “Hold still, sir,” the medic warned. “This will sting.”

  He dumped the antiseptic over the wound, flinching when Donner’s eyes began to glow a bright, menacing green. He tried to make himself keep working, but that glare was too hungry. The medic fled the room.

  Donner was used to the reaction. He finished the chore himself, cauterizing the wound with the handle of the knife the medic had put on the small burner when he’d first come in.

  “Ahhh!” Donner wiped the sweat away with bloody hands and reapplied the hot blade a second time to fully close the wound. The first bullet had gone straight through and been filled with a clotting agent. The second had struck his bone, shattering off a piece of it. He might not be able to walk if the fragment shifted, according to the medic, but Donner wasn’t worried. He’d told the boy he healed quickly. That hadn’t been a lie. The wounds were already starting to redden, but he had clearly underestimated this group of descendants.

  “Never fought one who fought like me!” he exclaimed, taking a big swig of the whiskey bottle that was already half empty.

  Donner began laughing wildly, thinking of the men he’d sent in. There was a chance that they’d succeed, survive where he wouldn’t. That possibility was always there when he split up his team. Donner knew his protection was in his men and in their loyalty to him, but he needed them out there to grab the bitch. Two gunshot wounds were a small price to pay for eventual domination over the world.

  Donner cackled again, feeding the evil inside with his pain.

  The soldiers listening outside the tent withdrew in concern.

  “He’s not right,” Private Benson told his partner as they stood atop a rickety shed. “We should hit the redline.”

  Private Trister shrugged, thinking of the girl they’d chased most of the day before returning empty-handed to a destroyed camp. It had taken them all night to reach Donner. “Maybe tomorrow, after we pay a visit to their camp.”

  Benson understood what drove his friend, but he liked living more than he needed a woman. He watched the fog line of their camp with a churning stomach. “None of us are coming out of this.”

  Trister snorted, waving off the worry.

  The two men continued their shift in silence that was broken by animals moving, wind howling, and their commanding officer laughing like a loon.

  5

  “Everyone ready?” Neil asked, glancing around the small group of men waiting with him.

  There were nods and hand signals flashed, but no one spoke except Neil.

  “Remember, we’re herding, not killing. Be careful with your aim.”

  Busy checking his gear to get set for the next part of their mission, Jeremy ran a hand over the lump that was his notebook and felt relieved. A laptop he could put together from anything. The record of the codes he’d already tried was now irreplaceable. Adrian’s advice of keeping it close was one he intended to follow. His computer was currently in Kyle’s van. Jeremy hoped to work on it each time he got a chance to rest, but didn’t expect much of that. Things were about to ramp up in Angela’s plans and his team had a front row role. Few of the Eagles liked the orders, but once the shooting started, they each planned to kill anyone they thought might be a threat later. It was how Marc and Adrian had been training them and they assumed Angela didn’t understand that this was war. Wound-only orders made little sense to him.

  Neil knew what their plans were, but instead of arguing, he kept quiet and followed his orders. He was supposed to ‘accidentally’ slip up himself, though how anyone would believe that, Neil didn’t know. He was too good to make so simple a mistake, but he didn’t think it would trigger the fight anyway. He also didn’t understand why they couldn’t attack this camp openly. He hoped Angela knew what she was doing.

  The ten Eagles came down the cliffs toward the enemy camp that was sprawled out across half a mile. Donner wasn’t here, or so Zack’s update had stated, but everyone would keep an eye out for him. The bounty for putting a bullet into Donner was an immediate promotion and the chance to lead a team. Angela didn’t care about these soldiers, only their boss.

  The sleeping, snoozing soldiers didn’t notice the shadows in the fog as the Eagles settled themselves on the ground behind the banks of white, waiting for the signal. When it came, they were supposed to flush the entire camp into the woods, killing as few as possible. Neil wondered if Angela wanted to recruit these men later, but wasn’t sure that was a good idea.

  The fog thickened until the soldiers sounded muffled despite being only a dozen feet away, and Jeremy rolled onto his back to watch for their signal.

  He spotted Crista in the tree above them and froze in shock.

  “I’m the signal,” Crista informed them evenly. “Open fire.”

  Neil gave the men a minute to recover from finding Crista above them with a rifle, then whistled as loudly as he could. “Now, Eagles!”

  The night came alive with chaos an instant later.

  Grenade launchers and smoke bombs sent barely awake soldiers fleeing in every direction.

  Neil swore furiously, “Herd them, goddamn it!”

  His team began hitting the ground by feet and walls by shoulders, and slowly, the soldiers began to flee in the correct direction. Few of them thought to return fire. Those who did were unaccustomed to the noise and smoke, and mostly missed their targets. The others simply fired blindly into the fogbank until they were out of ammunition or were cut down by Eagle rounds. Drafting citizens but not training them had backfired.

  As their side cleared of all but the occasional moving target, the Eagles became aware of gunfire and screams coming from the other side of the too-spread out camp. They ran straight through the burning debris, arriving to discover a large group of Indians fighting the enemy. Except there weren’t many soldiers left to kill. The scene was gruesome–men impaled, throats slit, some even scalped.

  Recognizing Grendin, Neil whistled and spun his hand in the air.

  His team didn’t argue with the order to leave early. The Indians didn’t look friendly at any time, but here, they were intimidating. The Eagles got out of sight with feelings of relief. They were killers and hunters too, but the Indians were more and it showed. All the strength and power that had been stolen from them was returning. Jeremy thought if they won this war, the Indians would become a force again–one to be taken seriously. Their days of assuming the government’s ways were over. Now, they would help set a standard for survival.

  Crista was forgotten about, like her orders had said she would be. She stayed in the tree, waiting as the others left. Angela hadn’t been sure which base Donner would flee to next. Two of them were close by, equally dangerous under an evacuation, and Crista was to stay close in case he chose to stop at this one. If he
did, he would discover the carnage and keep going, but not before she tried to put a bullet into him somewhere. She had a perfect shot on all the nearest roads from her perch. Angela had promised a level jump for two in the leg or arm, but Crista was aiming for one in the throat.

  “One shot, one kill,” she repeated gravely. Anything more is a mistake.

  6

  Cynthia woke up as the ground around her began to rumble. She was still buried, waiting…her heart kick into high gear as the engine came closer. Friend or foe? She almost hoped it were the latter. She was bored enough to cry. And starving.

  The vehicle stopped on the road, near where she was. Cynthia wondered what the odds were on her being run over. She hadn’t considered that part of this crazy plan.

  “Cynthia?”

  The sound of a familiar voice sent relief through the reporter and brought out happiness to be alive. She decided Daryl sounded sleepy. She moaned loudly to bring him closer.

  Daryl pulled his gun. That hadn’t sounded right. “Where are you? I have supplies.”

  Cynthia groaned again, stretching it into a breathy whisper.

  Daryl paled, slowing. He didn’t know where she was, only that he was to actually see her and verify she was okay.

  “Cynthia?”

  Daryl shouted as the hand closed around his ankle.

  Cynthia dissolved in amusement, giving away her hiding place.

  Daryl gasped, staring. “I almost shot you!”

  Cynthia laughed harder at his expression. “You… should see your face!”

  Daryl wanted to be angry, but the feel of her amusement was catching. He grinned. “Damn woman.”