by Angela White
“Intruder alert!” Mitch screamed from the nearby com truck. “All off-duty Eagles to the QZ!”
Radios and alarms blared across Safe Haven, interwoven with shouts and gunfire, and under that, the sound of furiously running feet thudded across the dusty Kansas ground.
3
Kyle fired in fury, breaking the formation as he advanced into the QZ. There was only one tent there–his–and two of the traders were using it for protection.
No longer shooting, they were without their leader and looking for an escape. They hadn’t counted on anyone fighting back, despite Safe Haven’s visible security.
Kyle walked straight at the two men, picking out what he needed–a leg exposed, the side of a shoulder he could hit, and those amazing golden eyes lying at the bottom of the flap.
She’s clear. Fire!
Two heavy thuds echoed as the men fell and Kyle slung his arm out, taking down the center pole. The canvas collapsed, clearing his line of sight.
Fire!
Kyle pulled the trigger an instant quicker, slug hitting the man by the medical camper. The trader’s bullet slammed through the edge of Kyle’s boot and flew out the other side.
Kyle barely noticed the lucky miss, busy putting another round into the man–his chest this time.
The trader dropped to the ground in a bloody sprawl and Kyle fired again, rage demanding it. This shot went into his skull.
Around him, Kyle’s team picked off the wounded.
Kyle turned, training in control.
Left? Clear!
Right? Clear!
Adrian and the others? Clear!
Anyone left to kill?
Kyle searched.
The influx of Eagles was more than the traders had been prepared for. Hoping to do a quick shoot and snatch from the QZ that they’d probably studied for the last week, the attackers were now pinned down behind the water truck instead.
Kyle scanned again.
John was watching from under the shower camper, along with Anne and Charlie. Adrian stood in front of them, firing quick slugs that kept the remaining infiltrators pinned down from that side. No other threats remained.
The other side of the water truck suddenly exploded with shouts.
“Hands up!”
“Drop ‘em!”
“Surrender or die!”
Bang!
“Open fire!”
Bang! Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Kyle nodded in satisfaction. Neil and his team would make sure there were no survivors, and they would do it in full view of the camp. The time for hiding how good we are is over, he thought. If the people living here in safety didn’t like the protection that was provided, they were able to leave–mostly because of how lethal Adrian had taught his army to be. Death was always the price required for freedom. No war could ever change that.
Satisfied that the QZ was clear, Kyle motioned his team forward to take care of the cleanup.
“Wear the gloves,” he instructed.
Before he joined them in the nasty chore, Kyle found Jennifer’s wide gaze. She was still on the ground, waiting to be comforted and then told what to do.
Kyle turned to his duty instead of responding to her silent call. She’ll be fine without me. She’ll be fine without me.
Jennifer watched him walk away with wide eyes and stomach cramps. She wasn’t in labor–just dropped to her knees too fast and pinched something–but her mind was in chaos. She’d come to depend on him so much in just two weeks...and he was every bit the killer that Cesar had been.
Kyle didn’t look back, and Jennifer didn’t send out a second wave of need, but it was a struggle. What if he woke up during the time they were apart? What if he realized what a burden she would be?
Jennifer dropped her head. I’ll be fine without him. I’ll be fine without him.
Adrian jerked a hand toward the panicking camp. “Shut off the alarms and sing to the herd!”
Kenn rushed off.
Neil came from the second battlefield behind the heavily leaking water truck, soaked and splattered in hard dirt chips that were melting into muddy furrows.
“Double the watch and do a full perimeter check–inside and out,” Neil told his team. “On the way, organize a catch-and-carry for whatever water’s left here.”
“Why did you do that?” Charlie asked from Adrian’s feet.
Adrian ignored the worried parents, answering their child, “Because of Rick, I can’t take the chance.”
Charlie didn’t open his eyes yet, even though John and Anne were being helped out from under the camper. Still frozen, the teenager was trying to handle the newest emotion to grace his hormones–bloodlust. He wanted to be shooting, drawing it himself.
“What about the kids they’re holding? I didn’t have enough time to get a location.”
Adrian’s heart squeezed into a hard knot, but he forced his mouth to provide the answer that was expected. “Your mom will help me find them when she’s stronger.”
“And if she can’t?”
“Then I carry that guilt, not you.”
It was enough now, while youth and shock had him distracted, but Adrian knew a more detailed answer had to be in place for next time.
Charlie’s young gaze opened, flicked over the bloody bodies. He slowly crawled out and stood up. “They’re not all dead. I might still be able...”
Not asking Angela this time, Adrian moved aside. “You follow orders, or go no further in my army–ever.”
Adrian stayed close, gun in hand, as Charlie walked onto the battlefield without responding.
One of the traders–Badger–was lying on his side near the supply truck, blood pooling under him from wounds in his stomach. He’d clearly been hoping to play dead and crawl away.
The heavily bearded slaver flinched at the crunch of boot steps, hand coming up. “Don’t!”
“Tell us where they are!” Charlie demanded, hoping the location was the first thing the trader would think of. His death was close.
The man’s face was ugly with sores and fear, but there was no remorse.
“Fuck off, freak!”
Adrian started to use his gun.
Charlie knelt down in the line of fire. “I can heal you.”
Adrian put a hand out to jerk Charlie back, but Angela stopped him with two words.
He’s lying.
Impressed and absolutely horrified, Adrian dropped his hand and made sure only the closest Eagles would witness whatever happened.
Frustrated by the man’s panicked, painful thoughts, Charlie let his inner demon bleed through for the first time, blue eyes turning deep crimson. “Your life for theirs. Where?”
The man sucked in a lungful of air through the terror and the agony. “Outside Wichita. Kids like...you, locked in a boarding school.”
Charlie didn’t pull the heat back. This man was bad, and the hunger of the demon he’d let come forward was incredible. It rode him in heavy, gut-twisting seduction…
Charlie. Angela’s voice in his mind was careful, cautious. Must you become a killer already?
The boy groaned, “I can just take a–”
But should you?
It was a hard battle.
Adrian waited, wondering if he’d made a mistake by bringing the teenager in so soon.
“It’s guarded. You won’t get in without me!”
Charlie slowly pushed the hunger away, barely aware of the trader now trying to cover his tracks as he sensed what was coming.
Charlie turned around with a faint tinge of red still lingering around his pupils, set to ask Adrian for what everyone else wanted.
“Not yet,” Marc denied.
Charlie’s tinted gaze swung around. “When?”
Marc shrugged, voice set. “A year, at least, maybe two.”
“And until then?”
None of the rebellion they’d all, except Marc, expected.
“A few of us will donate time each day,
give you layers of training above what your mom received,” Marc promised. “That fire has to come under control.”
As he stepped back, Charlie didn’t flinch at the single shot from Adrian’s gun. Knowing he would be an Eagle and fight alongside his parents was all he cared about.
Marc trailed the teenager after exchanging a quick look with Angela. The intense dismay in it said he didn’t want Charlie fighting, for her to find a way to slow him down.
Angela understood the feeling, but didn’t start searching for another path. Charlie had made his choice, and like her, he had the right to it.
Angela realized she was going to get what Marc had gone through while watching her make a team, and grimaced. She had a feeling she would have more sympathy afterwards. Charlie was as determined as she was.
“What would Adrian have done, if I’d killed the trader?” Charlie asked as he and Marc left the area.
“You’d probably be considered a threat and put under guard,” Marc answered honestly.
“Why?” Charlie’s voice rose. “The man was bad!”
“Two wrongs. That phrase makes sense,” Marc replied, steering them toward the empty training tent so that Charlie could work off some heat. They would start doing this regularly.
“Not usually to Adrian,” Charlie argued. “He makes his own choices without worrying over the consequences.”
It was clear by Marc’s silence that he didn’t want to defend Adrian to his son, and the Eagles close enough to hear the conversation respected him for doing it anyway.
“Not true, boy. Adrian doesn’t order a single damn thing without planning it out five levels beyond.”
Marc grunted, loading weights onto the smaller bench. “He accounts for everything that can go wrong and makes his choice after he has it all covered.”
“But he hasn’t had it all covered. Look at what’s happened.”
Marc grunted again, bitterly this time. “Believe me, I did, and I was wrong. I hate his methods, but sometimes things happen that no one can account for.”
“Adrian calls them fate’s wild cards–Kenn and my mom.”
“I’ve heard that. Wonder what he calls himself,” Marc mused, flipping power on to the tent.
Charlie’s tenor lowered into adult concern. “Damned.”
Marc didn’t know what to say. The truth (He is, boy. More than anyone I’ve ever known.) seemed out of place.
They fell into the workout after that, listening to the sounds of the camp being put back in order and worrying over what could have been.
Marc was concerned about his son getting hurt.
His son was afraid he might like hurting other people.
4
Left out because of her injury, Angela had time to study the people and she was glad. Her heart was still trying to regain a normal rhythm.
She watched Billy and Kyle drag the lead attacker’s body to his own truck and heft him into the back of it. Kyle didn’t speak to his men, and they weren’t including him in their looks of victory.
Kyle slid into the truck and followed the others out of camp for the dump and burn. As he drove by, he swept that knocked-down tent with enough personal torment showing to make Eagles frown at Jennifer.
“They won’t accept her until they have their team leader back,” Angela stated, frowning slightly. “I hope he knows that.”
“He knows,” Adrian confirmed. “It just doesn’t matter to him right now.”
Angela wasn’t okay with the situation, but Adrian seemed to be, so that must mean it was for the good of the camp. Angela planned to watch and see how this newest mystery fit into Adrian’s intricate puzzle. She had no doubt that the illegal couple were about to be at the head of a sharp change for Safe Haven.
Hope I get to help, she thought, stretching her sore shoulder carefully. Can’t take much more of staring at my damn tent.
Adrian looked at Angela, at her ugly but healing stitch-line, and gave a reluctant nod. “Light duty–in here.”
Angela smiled. “Finally!”
The recovering doctor immediately moved deeper into the QZ, and Adrian chuckled. He didn’t bother to assign her a guard. This was the safest area in Safe Haven right now.
John and Anne were busy tending a camp member, and Angela moved toward Jennifer, mind still half-clenched in a ball of terror. Charlie being in the battle-zone had rattled her so badly that all she could do was smother him in protection. It was what she should have tried to do for herself at the rest stop and then she probably wouldn’t have been shot. But I’m a rookie, she thought. It’s a mistake well-learned.
“What should we do?”
Angela’s gun was out before she had a chance to think. She hadn’t realized Samantha and Cynthia were on her flank.
Angela pulled the fire in and holstered as the two women moved hastily back. My Eagles...my first orders.
Sam and Cynthia had reached the QZ at nearly the same time, and hung back. When Angela headed in, they’d shared a stiff look and followed.
Worried heart easing a bit more, Angela began looking around. “Um...John will need his bag... Have a new water truck brought in for the QZ shower so that Kyle’s team can get cleaned up after they burn the bodies... Send someone else to deliver trays for Charlie at lunch mess...”
Angela pulled a few more small things, and the two females awkwardly divided the list as she went to make sure Jennifer was okay.
It had begun now, her open change in status here, but Angela doubted many would recognize it yet. There were too many other things to distract the camp–like Kyle and Jennifer, and even Seth and Becky, who were finally beginning to draw notice by how often they were seen together. Everyone was still adjusting to surviving the slavers.
Pleased with Sam and Cynthia, Adrian turned toward the camp, certain his calming words were needed there. He wasn’t upset over the attack, not like he would have been a month ago. Their progress was obvious, but since eliminating the slavers, more and more of the future was becoming clear. The offspring of his army would be incredibly strong–even more so than their sires–and he had the honor of training them. Fate might be a fickle bitch, but when she was pleased, her generosity was staggering.
“Permission to go to Wichita and search for the kids?” Neil asked, coming to his right.
Adrian shook his head, thinking if they didn’t find water soon, it could mean trouble. The liquid was precious and that QZ tanker had been full this morning. “I need you here.”
Neil opened his mouth, and then closed it without saying anything. He left with slumped shoulders. Unlike the rest of the teams, who were excited about the coming Level tests, Neil and his weren’t taking them and had little to look forward to.
Adrian understood the need to go, but they were only fifty miles from Wichita and already gearing up for a trip into that city. The camp was hoping for a new load of convenience supplies, like batteries and music, but Adrian was hoping to find fuel and water. They would add a search-and-rescue for the kids, but Adrian wasn’t sending a team out yet.
Neil still hadn’t settled down, though it was all over. Finding out about Becky’s rape had screwed with his sense of worth, and he’d been leaving camp every chance he got. Those opportunities were frequent, calls from survivors needing escorts were coming in almost daily. Many of these were minorities. Now that they’d beaten the slavers and proved they were capable of defending their members, other races were finally starting to join. It was helpful that anyone considering asking for shelter could see other dark-skinned refugees in camp. It went a long way in calming old fears.
It was also helping Joseph, one of the few black men in Safe Haven, to understand Adrian’s words to him back in Wyoming. Guilty of expecting their leader to fix it all quickly, the professor had also become a convert. He was now regularly seen escorting the nuns as they rotated from area to area. Camp rumor said he had a thing for Missa, who had recovered enough to occasionally join the group on their morning activities. Scuttlebutt als
o said she wanted nothing to do with Joseph, or any other man. Only time would tell if she might recover in that way.
The kids from the airfield were also a mix of races and fitting in well with the camp’s younger crowd. The college kids liked to have fun, but they were also old enough to want to help with the dream. It wasn’t uncommon for them to show up at the workouts and meetings–hopeful shadows in the background that Adrian would bring into the fold. Mixing races together before the war had been a trial-and-error process that had to accommodate the chains of the past. To fix centuries of such negligence and abuse wasn’t something Adrian expected to achieve in six months or even years, but he was incredibly proud of the progress he had made so far.
As the women and children from Cesar’s camp had been cleared, they’d been put with a small group of camp females for their day-to-day lives to help them settle in. That was the way Safe Haven had always handled new arrivals that were abused. The few exceptions to this were either Eagles or leadership, and it wasn’t missed that Kyle’s camper and tent hadn’t left the QZ even after he and Jennifer were clear.
The camp members had found out that Jennifer was carrying Cesar’s children, but it was quickly pointed out that several of the new kids were offspring of the enemy. It hadn’t taken long for the majority to accept them for what they were–victims. In the next few months, Jennifer would give birth. If it came sooner, and the babies didn’t make it, that was fate. New life was always welcome in Safe Haven.
Adrian realized he’d misjudged a bit, though, thinking the herd wouldn’t be able to handle that or all the awful things the Eagles did on his command. Part of their acceptance was pride–Safe Haven had come out on top–but the rest was the effects of the former slaves telling stories and convincing people without meaning to. There hadn’t been another choice.
The rest stop had been looted when Adrian had taken the camp by it, but the carnage was clear. For Safe Haven, it was the sight of the sombreros and the bullet-ridden rest stop that finally made the end of the slavers feel real. For the Eagles, it was the stains from Angela’s blood near the door. For the former slaves, it was that once golden corvette, now charred and crushed under Adrian’s old semi. These things sank into people’s hearts and unlocked chains to terror that they were finally able to let go of. It was over, thanks to Adrian.