by Angela White
“I do, don’t I?”
“No,” Seth answered, hoping Kevin would think to call in to base. “But he deserved what he got.”
Becky felt the misery waiting for her, the hell Rick had sentenced her to, and shuddered. She would never be the same.
Seth, who had often thought the girl would grow up to be another Tonya, felt something shift in his mind. No one deserved what she’d been through. “This was Rick’s doing, Becky, not yours.”
“Don’t call me that!” Becky ordered, face paling under the bruises. “She’s dead now!”
Seth’s heart lurched. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”
Becky looked up at him, blood slowly running down her jaw. “I didn’t think anyone would help me. I expect...expected to die here.”
Seth imagined a camp without her, and was surprised to find that the thought bothered him.
“In one minute, I’m going to wrap a clean sheet around you, and then pick you up. Just close your eyes and let me get you to John.”
Seth was expecting the same reaction that Samantha had gotten. He didn’t understand Becky couldn’t stand the sound of Samantha’s voice, let alone the feel of her trying to be helpful.
Becky trembled. “I have to stop on the way–to puke.”
Seth blinked. Where was the emotional flood? The tears? “Okay. Here we go.”
He actually saw her body tense, as if she was terrified that he might do what Rick had. “I won’t hurt you, Rebecca. Neither will the other Eagles.”
“I know that.” But, she didn’t, really. They were men, and men couldn’t be trusted.
Becky went rigid as Seth slid his arms under her, breath coming in short gasps. Unable to do anything more than exactly what he’d asked of her, she closed her eyes and didn’t struggle.
Seth lifted her tiny body as gently as he could, and sensed her clamp down on a scream. His gentle heart lurched. “Easy, baby. Just hang on.”
Seth took her outside with careful steps that still caused her pain and the sentries starting to show up from Kevin’s call saw enough to understand. They turned away in respect and cold fury.
Kevin was waiting with gas cans. “Now?”
Seth nodded, moving for his car and not the one that Samantha was already inside. “Do it, and then find out exactly where John is. Tell him to pull over and wait.”
Inside the now burning house, Rick’s charring skeleton glowered bitterly. Denied peace, over time his ghost might collect the energy of those who passed. If it grew strong enough to commit a murder, he would become solid, regaining a cursed life. That had been the way of things before the war, and it continued, unchanged, afterward. Restless ghosts remain so, because they know death isn’t final.
Chapter Four
1
Angela’s eyes shot open. “It’s done.”
Marc hurried to the bed. “You okay?”
“It’s over now,” she repeated, wanting him to confirm it.
“Yes. The slavers are no longer a threat to anyone.”
“Are you all right?”
Marc forced his gaze away from the ugly wound. “Yes.”
He resumed his seat next to her bed and sent a charming smile. “What about you? Feeling better?”
“Yeah,” Angela grunted gently. “Let’s go with that.”
Marc chuckled at the joke because it was expected, thinking he would be extremely glad when Safe Haven arrived. Hopefully, he only had another hour to get through.
“Brady.”
Marc looked over to see the fingers on her injured hand moving. It was a great sign, and he quickly leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Happy for you, honey.”
Angela opened her palm, smiling, and Marc was clear on what she wanted. He gave her the Python he had carefully tended in her stead.
Angela slowly transferred the gun to the blood-crusted holster on her right hip that she had insisted John leave on. Knowing it was there might help keep the nightmares at bay. Angela drifted off while hoping that Becky was able to find something to use in the same manner.
Marc saw that she had fallen asleep and eased out of the chair to go take a turn on sentry duty.
Zack’s second in command came quickly when called, reporting that everything was quiet. The XO expected to be asleep on his bedroll at Angela’s side in about two minutes.
The warehouse they were sheltering in had once held engine parts–Kansas was dotted with places like these and Adrian was stripping them down–but now it served as only another relic of the old world. No one was flying planes or anything else these days–not even flags. But for the one Adrian had up at the mess, it would have been something Marc hadn’t seen since the war.
He stared hard at the surroundings, the cicada-lined trees and waist-high fog rolling through the thick trunks. Almost surreal, Marc thought, taking up a high post.
The rest of the Eagles not with Kyle were perched in various places around the warehouse, tired enough to kill for the slightest reason. It had been a very long trip–one never to be forgotten, no matter how hard they might try.
Marc used his night vision glasses to search for heat signatures that would indicate something alive. He saw only dark, still forms and tried to keep his nerves under control. A sense of being unprotected coated the area. In the hours since parting from Adrian, the unease had only increased, and Marc again found himself longing for the camp’s noisy arrival. It had become home without him realizing it.
Marc heard the soft murmur of voices and knew Allan and Angie were talking. She was a lot stronger now, thanks to whatever Adrian had done. Marc had also figured out that staying away was the best thing the witch could do to help. Angela had been too weak for the demon to come forward, and even now, that fiery spirit only came in curt, unsympathetic visits. The sharing of energy between her and Angela was something he hadn’t known about, and Marc wondered suddenly if Adrian had.
Faced with too much time to think, Marc let his mind ponder Adrian a bit deeper than usual. It was hard not to after everything that had happened. The blond man was in charge of an ever-growing camp of armed survivors who would banish him when they found out who he had been and what he’d done. Rather than finding a way to get them to accept it, Adrian was busy fixing the flaws of the old world.
Marc flashed to his first nights in camp, when he’d learned about the double standard for some parts of their population. Ray was where Angie had been, starting over, but without his blinders anymore. Even the reporter would be a convert now. Why would so clever a leader not find a way for his people to accept the truth?
No answer came, and Marc wondered which way he would fall when it all came out. Would he and Angie be side-by-side in defense, or would they end up on opposite teams? It was hard to guess at. He was sure the truth would emerge eventually, but he no longer had the driving urge to help it happen.
Clearly, neither did Cynthia. She had insisted on being a part of Adrian’s guard when he left, but she’d spent a hard minute picking. Adrian only taking three men–Seth, Jeff, and John–had made the choice for her. Marc hadn’t realized that Angie had the support of the camp’s women, but it was clear from hearing about Anne and watching Cynthia that she had been subtly manipulating her own choices into place. Angela was so much like Adrian that it was horrifying. How bad would it get over time? Would she end up scarred and missing limbs, using her gifts openly for the camp upon their asking? A real-life Merlin for Safe Haven’s King. Was that the master plan?
Marc refused to let himself answer, staring at shadowy main road the camp would come down. Why did life always seem to get harder?
2
John studied his wife from the passenger seat of the ambulance. Here when she got in, the accusing expression had been enough to stop even a word of welcome. Not sure what all he needed to say, John had kept quiet, allowing them to hear the faint gunshots under the storm, and almost an hour had passed.
Anne followed the blurry lights of the rig in front of them, a
ware of her husband’s disapproval. She knew why, even though he hadn’t said anything. She finally let out a harsh sigh.
“You don’t make the patients wait this long. Why me, Mr. Harmon?”
John blinked, not used to hearing so sharp a tone from her. “You lied to me, Mrs. Harmon. That’s why.”
“By omission, yes.” Anne didn’t remind him that he’d done the same thing to her in the beginning of this new life. She didn’t need to. “I’m sorry for it.”
“But you’d do it again!” he accused, ignoring the rocking ambulance. The wind hadn’t let up much. Neither had his anger.
“Yes, and so would you. I had to find out on my own.” Anne gave him what he needed to be able to accept it–the truth.” You broke our trust first.”
Hearing her say it smashed through his furious indignation. John’s shoulders slumped.
Anne hated his misery. “I hope to prove my loyalty, and to earn back your love.”
“I always have love for you!” John immediately denied.
The wife finished leading him into giving her what she had to have. “I can wait until you’re too sick, if that will make it easier on you…”
John’s anger broke under a flood of terror. “No, please don’t… I want those last moments with you!”
Anne gasped at the unforgiving anguish ripping through her chest. Her husband would die soon, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
They reached out a hand at the same time for comfort, grips tight. Neither could imagine being without the other.
The truck in front of them slowed and came to a stop, forcing them to do the same.
John motioned to the glove box, expression daring her to protest. “Get it.”
Anne reluctantly retrieved the gun he kept there, nervous. She’d only had a couple of quiet lessons.
Lee came to the window, and John quickly rolled it down. “What is it?”
“We have two injured camp members catching up,” Lee told him grimly. “They need care. I’ll drive.”
John and Anne switched to the rear of the ambulance to wait, assuming the mission team had run into trouble.
After a long minute of exchanging hurt, needful glances, John slowly tugged his wife closer. “Together for the rest of it?”
Anne nodded, holding onto him, to his comforting life force. “You know it.”
John winced, but didn’t let go.
They stayed that way until Samantha opened the door, looking like she’d been beaten. Behind her, Seth was carrying Becky, who clearly had been.
John moved aside to let them in, pushing back the pain and worry to do his duty. There would be time for mourning later.
3
“This is an off-limits area! State your business!”
The sight of Marc on the dock of the warehouse, alert guards in the shadows around him, allowed Adrian to breathe again. He hated being split up.
“I own the place,” Adrian joked tiredly.
“Welcome home...Boss.”
Adrian’s eyelids began to sting. Even if it was only a show for the men, Marc’s tone was more genuine than Adrian felt he had any right to.
Adrian grunted in weary annoyance with his emotions. I need sleep. “Kenn has Point. Get us set up for a week.”
The camp members, who had also been without Adrian for much longer than any of them were comfortable with, rushed from their vehicles.
“Let them through,” Adrian ordered. He was quickly surrounded.
While the Eagles got the camp set up, Adrian allowed his people to see and hear the battle. Cynthia had surrendered the tape recorder in her pocket as they pulled in to lead the convoy. She was his now, in more ways than one.
Adrian motioned to the reporter, telling her silently that she was on her own time.
Cynthia nodded, but didn’t leave, and Adrian had to decide if she knew the codes or only was acting as if she had understood.
Okay to stay? Cynthia sent. She didn’t want to leave his guard until Kenn had camp set up. Less distractions would keep their guards watching what they were supposed to. If she and Rick could sneak through the shadows and get to the chain of command, then so could others.
Adrian grinned at the reporter. “You’re my shadow until camp’s up.”
Cynthia smiled back, blushing a bit at his open reversal of her outcast status. “Thank you.”
Adrian pushed out a wave of pleasure. “My honor, Cyn. My honor.”
Those around fell quiet at the interaction. Cynthia wasn’t an outcast anymore! How had that happened?
The tape was playing, coming to the end now, and Adrian stared at Cynthia as the gunshots echoed. He owed her so much. They all did.
Bang!
Bang!
“She’s hit!”
“He’s dead! Cesar’s dead!”
“Who did it? Did Adrian get him?”
“Other side’s pourin’, Boss.”
“No. It was Cynthia.”
The powerful recorder had captured the talk of the Eagles as Adrian fought to save Angela.
“Cynthia shot him?”
“Good thing, too.”
“Yeah, his next shot would have killed Angie.”
“Pressure!”
“Damn. Look at that puddle spread. One hit might still be enough.”
Adrian switched the player off. “You have one request from the top two team leaders. Use them wisely.”
The camp understood that she was to be rewarded. They surrounded her next, and Cynthia was forced to pass guard duty to someone else in favor of being accepted back into the herd.
“Took a call, Boss.” Kenn shouldered his way through the crowd. When he sent a hard glare around, most of the people headed toward the familiar mess now taking shape behind them. The others fled for bathrooms and showers, all eager to discuss what they’d been through. The center fire would be busy as Safe Haven compared stories and drew conclusions.
“The mission team had a delay. One of the slaves is pregnant and having trouble. Kyle stayed, says he’ll catch up in a few hours.”
“Fine,” Adrian approved the slow travel, always eager to welcome new children into his flock. “What about the doctor?”
“Ambulance should be here anytime.” Kenn had been glad to hear that Samantha was safe, and shocked to find out that Becky wasn’t in any of the vehicles he had sent out. It was a perfect example of his leadership–just not good enough.
Kenn knew it. “I’m sorry.”
Adrian didn’t make him feel worse. He’d had to leave Kenn in charge while they handled the slavers, but he’d known as they left that it wouldn’t go well. That rock-and-hard place was gone now.
“You did the best you could. Make plans for the things that got out of control, so that it’s covered next time.”
“Next time?”
Adrian snorted, low on patience–on everything. “You don’t really think the slavers were our only enemy, do you? We’ll have to this again. Get ready for it.”
4
It took a while for Safe Haven to settle down.
The livestock was fed and watered, the dogs were put out, and four common tents surrounded them with the flapping they had all gotten used to. It sounded like home, and almost felt that way. The perimeter was widened, the flag put at half-staff, and the mess and bathrooms were growing full of unwinding people that would crash hard tonight in relief. The threat was over and their shepherd had returned.
Now doing rounds, Adrian watched the sky swirl and fluctuate around the perimeter. The power here was growing. Each challenge they faced sent nourishment into the magic seeds that were planted in his Haven. They’d come through what he had assumed would be the hardest part–surviving the first six months. Now, the future was here, full of possibilities and pain. At the moment, it was exhausting, but even under his weariness, Adrian knew what the next chore was. Magic was about to become a part of his duties–blending it in and training it to protect the sheep instead of itself.
“It’s almost time to form the council,” he slowly decided. If I’m still leading them after Little Rock, the first Presidential Cabinet of the new world will be chosen. If I’m not...
Adrian’s head turned toward the warehouse, but he didn’t finish the thought as movement nearby caught his attention.
Just the Ants.
Adrian didn’t understand why the mutations were occurring so fast. The chemicals in the ground wouldn’t cause changes this quickly, and neither would eating from infected corpses. They had to have another contamination source, a powerful one.
It scared Adrian, and not only because of the obvious danger. The ants’ determination to survive was as strong as the human will to live. If not for the dogs and the wolf running them off, the bold insects would probably be fighting them for space in their tents. As the ants continued to grow larger, these methods would become ineffective. They could only do a basic routine with the dogs, unlike the wolf, who understood them.
Adrian changed directions, blending into the trees as if he were a part of them. “Dog?”
The brush rustled to his right, and the wolf padded to his side with matted fur and a tense demeanor.
Realizing Dog had been close, Adrian frowned. “Where’s Charlie?”
At the mess with his playmate. They’re feeding the strays.
“Serving the trays,” Adrian corrected. “Who has guard?”
A rookie.
“Who made that call?”
Kenn.
Before Adrian could hit the button on his mike, Dog gave a soft growl. The pup is safe. Nature outnumbers us. That is our problem.
To their right, a single-file line of ants was slowly crawling up a moldy tree just outside the perimeter tape. The line stretched into the distance, where cone-hills rose from the ground like pimples on skin. Soldier ants surrounded the line, larger and more aggressive than the rest of the colony. Their hard black eyes returned to Safe Haven’s protection repeatedly–the dogs and the people–but it was the wolf that they studied.
“Be careful out there.”
Dog understood why he was getting the warning. Yes. I suggest only pairs for patrols.