by Angela White
7
Angela’s dreams were worse than usual, and she jerked awake to discover Marc already sitting up, staring at her in concern.
“Is there a problem?”
“Just in my brain,” she answered, keeping the thick quilt around her shoulders as she stumbled to the door.
Not bothering with shoes, she slipped outside, and Marc waved the wolf after her and got up.
She was jumpy, more so now than the night they’d been reunited, and she never slept for more than a few hours without her nightmares interrupting. It made him a little more nervous and a lot more pissed with each passing day. Her man was definitely going to be taught a lesson. How hard it would be, was the only unknown.
Marc slid his guns onto his hips with a feeling of completeness he knew not to put much faith in. Being good with a gun wasn’t nearly enough now. It took listening to everything around you, but mostly to your gut. His was telling him that this mess was all his fault and the time had come to fix it. He was a United States Marine, and it was his duty to open the door to her cage.
Shivering, Angela sat in the rear seat of her Blazer, the open door letting the wind swirl dark flakes inside. Her mind was awash with the past–her man’s violence, mixed with childhood demons and the horror of experiencing the war up close–and she wished she didn’t have to sleep. She would never have an unbroken night’s rest again until she was with her son.
The arms of the man, your new guardian, would ease these things. His heart is pure.
Angela frowned at the wolf. She had little doubt it would succeed, but Marc would never offer, and she couldn’t imagine asking. It went against everything she’d had beaten into her.
This man is not the same. He is yours.
She shook her head. “Not anymore. That was a long time ago.”
Then why does it feel like it was yesterday? the old Angela questioned.
Her heart sobbed, giving the answer that Kenny could never be allowed to discover.
Because I still love him. I never stopped.
Chapter Twenty
Once a Liar…
February 24th
Wyoming, near Kemmerer
1
Kenn listened to the early morning chatter at the boss’s center table with only half an ear–something he usually never did. He was busy searching for a way to tell Adrian about the coming storm. He had no doubts, had seen the deep snow drifts around the tarp-covered outlines of two vehicles (two!), but how could he convince Adrian without telling him about Angela?
Lie, his mind whispered, and Kenn glanced up guiltily to find everyone staring at him.
“Sorry, what?” he sputtered.
Adrian frowned. “Supply list.”
Kenn handed it to him from the stack on the table, being careful not to let the stiff wind rip it from his fingers. “Here ya go.”
Adrian scanned it and turned to Neil. “Who’s going with you?”
The cop handed him a smaller sheet of paper as a bird’s wild call echoed, and they all studied the grit-covered sky. Tension gripped the crowd in the mess, but when the bird wasn’t spotted, normal noises slowly resumed. Wind blew tarps, dishes clinked, footsteps crunched, vehicles lined up for a full days travel–Adrian told himself he was just jumpy.
“There are the names and some other details. Do you want…”
Kenn let their conversation fade away from him again, mind clearly not on the meeting.
Adrian sighed, banging his cup down hard on the picnic table. Everyone jumped.
“Is there something I should know?” Adrian demanded of Kenn.
“Yeah,” Kenn confirmed quickly, relieved. “It’s gonna snow tonight, and we’ll be caught out in the open unless we get ready.” Kenn waited, dreading the questions that would force him to lie to Adrian.
“Snow?”
Kenn set his cup down and squared his shoulders. “From the south, at least a foot by midnight, maybe more. We need to hole up somewhere.”
Kyle, Doug, and Neil were gawking at him with open mouths, but Adrian’s tone was thoughtful.
“What do you suggest?”
“We passed a mall in Green River and a roller rink in Rock Springs, but really, Kemmerer’s only a few miles away. It has a bowling alley with a mall across the street. We’ll hook up heat, maybe even get a few lanes going,” Kenn stated casually, ignoring the glowering sentries. Adrian’s opinion was the only one that mattered.
“You’re sure?”
“I must be,” Kenn said stated. “I’m risking my new place here on it, right?”
Adrian cocked an eyebrow and told him flatly, “Yes, you are. The bowling alley in Kemmerer?”
“Yeah, Sage Lanes. It could snow for a week, and we’d be okay there,” Kenn said, still seeing the snow-covered vehicles in his mind. Not one, but two. Angie wasn’t alone.
The other three men wanted to question, but didn’t, because they also knew it was Adrian’s decision. They could feel him weighing it, even as all five of them paused to watch money–a large number of tens–go blowing by with the gusty Wyoming wind. Two of them still felt the urge to gather it up, despite its uselessness.
Adrian glanced around. They had a great view of the Rocky Mountains, where grizzly bear and elk were no doubt hiding from the survivors, but down here in the basin, there were bodies of lizards and gophers scattered among the mesquite shrubs and cactus. There were barbed wire fences, rows of unplowed fields, and garbage littering the area, but as for civilization, there were only the distant outlines of two farms, and they were boarded, as if they’d been condemned before the war had come. No other shelters. They were exposed here, and if Kenn was right about the snow, they were in danger.
“Notebooks open. Plans have changed.”
They did it reluctantly.
A Gulf war veteran, a state trooper, and a mobster getting a taste of crow, Kenn thought.
“We’ll need all three generators, a full fuel truck, the big tool chest, and a crew for bathroom setups, since those scheduled for here already did theirs.” He gestured to Kenn as the wind blew a fresh wave of recent decay over their table. “You’ll do the hookups?”
Kenn nodded, and Adrian lit a smoke. “Good. Go spend some time on the radio. Tell Mitch and Matt I want them.”
Kenn moved right away, figuring “he heard it while monitoring the CB” would be his excuse. While he was glad he hadn’t had to lie to Adrian yet, he knew the questions would come, and he would need to have an answer ready.
The camp around them was now murmuring and Adrian gave his closest men understanding, sure their beards hid suspicion and dislike. “I know you don’t trust him, and that’s all right as long as you trust me. Do you?”
“Of course” came the unanimous answers, but all three uniformed men were indeed hiding disapproval under stubble and blank looks. They didn’t even like Kenn, let alone trust him.
“Good. We’ll see what happens, and in the meantime, a day in a bowling alley with heat and real electric sounds good. You guys gonna be on my team?”
There were boasts and grins, Adrian in the thick of it, and his inscrutable face never hinted at how much he wanted (needed!) the Marine to be proven right. It would cement Kenn’s place here, but more than that, the ability to predict foul weather coming their way would be invaluable. It was a skill he hadn’t suspected the man of having.
The camp had no problem with getting a break from the expected hours of traveling, and nearly all the Eagles cracked jokes about the calm skies and temperatures that were currently above freezing. Kenn only told them to wait and see, but inside he was terrified of being wrong. He knew Angela wasn’t trying to trick him, but what if the storm had gone past or dissipated? His face hurt from forcing himself to laugh at the remarks, and through it all, he could feel Adrian’s thoughtful blue gaze on him, watching and waiting.
2
A small town, Kemmerer appeared to be empty. The roads were surprisingly clear of abandoned traffic, but there was heavy
damage from looters, and even the animal population hadn’t been spared. The town’s dog pound was the site of a horrific battle that made Adrian drive faster past the decaying canine and human cadavers that littered the brick complex.
Like the other towns they’d been through, Kemmerer held bodies, dozens of rotting, gruesome corpses, and Adrian was glad that none of them showed obvious signs of radiation sickness. The town itself housed burnt frames, broken windows, and looted stores, but no wrecked military vehicles and no kicked-in doors. Riots, not the Draft, had conquered this American town.
The parking lot at Sage Lanes was deserted when they pulled in, and Adrian steered into the hard breeze as he keyed his mike. “Back the mess truck up near the door. Supply trucks in the rear. Double the sentries. Eagles Ten, Seven, and Twelve, secure our site. Eagle Three, escort and assist Kenn. Everyone else, stand by.”
Adrian stepped inside with a frown, sweeping arcades, cleaning machines, rows of welded-down tables and hard swivel chairs behind racks of balls. The maroon carpet, its fine layer of dust devoid of footprints, led to separate bar and food areas, their wooden counters and brick walls covered with glittery signs and unopened party favors.
Tired of the heartbreaking reminders of a world gone by, Adrian’s sharp gaze picked out mouse droppings on the bar and a ceiling full of New Year’s confetti, and he sighed as calls of “all clear” echoed.
“It’ll do. Set us up.”
3
Kenn set the mousetrap in the corner, and had to hitch up his jeans as he stood. They were no longer too tight. He spotted Doug and Neil moving toward the basement door, about to do a second security sweep. The limping redhead in the green army jacket was shaking long, wild hair in response to the tall, thin trooper, and Kenn caught Zack’s attention.
Reading him easily (the career trucker now wore the clothes of a rookie Eagle trying to make Level One) Zack trotted quickly across the wide, dusty room. “Hey! Neil, wait up. I got a question about yesterday’s lesson.”
Satisfied there would be no unauthorized plotting done with the rookie’s nosey eyes on them, Kenn ran a hand over his neck-length black hair. “Next?”
It took them nearly an hour to get everything inside and set up. Dozens of lanterns gave the spacious room a dim, flickering light and a harsh odor that Adrian knew wouldn’t mix well with the other smells they would create. He hung smoke detectors, air-fresheners, and signs requesting that the bathroom doors be kept shut, then marched to the basement while the camp ate lunch and picked out their sleeping areas–women and kids away from the doors and windows.
Adrian gestured at Kyle, and the stocky Eagle fell in step. The two men stayed alert as they traveled down the long, dark hall, flashlights on their belts casting eerie shadows.
“You been outside since we got here?”
“Few minutes ago. Might be snow coming in. Temperature’s dropping fast.” Kyle wasn’t exactly gunning for the Marine, but he would never trust him, never be one of his many supporters. He liked it that Kenn had been behind the 8 ball, even if only for a few hours. “Don’t think it’ll hold till dark.”
“It won’t matter if Kenn can get the power and heat on.”
Adrian’s words were still hanging in the chilly air when a deep rumble started under their feet, rattling the whole building. It grew steadily louder, drawing yells as dust flew from vents, and then it changed to a long, loud hiss that died out gradually.
There were a few seconds of tense silence and Adrian waited in the darkness with his hand on his holster as he listened to the unease of his herd.
The rumbling came again, much quieter this time, and the two males got moving when the dusty bulbs flickered halfheartedly then glowed, bright and beautiful. They now had electricity.
A hearty cheer spread through the bowling alley, echoing to Kenn and Neil, who had heard voices in the dark and drawn their guns. No one else was allowed down here. Relaxing when Adrian and Kyle came into view, Kenn flipped a switch as he holstered, killing the lights and drawing a loud moan of protest from upstairs.
“What about heat?”
Kenn smothered a curse, wiping stinging sweat from his eye. “Our cords aren’t strong enough. We need something heavy duty. After that, should be a matter of bleeding out the system. We’ll have to make sure all the outside vents and ducts stay clear.”
To Kenn’s pleasure, Adrian wrote it down and the other two guards watched jealously.
“We passed a big laundromat on the way in. Wouldn’t they have the industrials?”
Kenn was glad it had been Kyle and not Neil who made the suggestion. He and the mobster got along better now–handling Leon together had helped–but he couldn’t make peace with Neil at all, and he had officially given up trying.
“Good. Give them the lights back and go get what we need. The space heaters will hold us a bit longer.”
Kenn got another cheer when he flipped the switch.
Though they were happier as they went up the hall together under neon bulbs for the first time in nine weeks, it was an odd feeling. None of them spoke until they got to the loading docks where the trucks were neatly lined up.
The sentries tensed when they noted the four men come out of the dock doors and immediately scanned the landscape harder, paying more attention. Kenn’s words had indeed drawn them to an awareness of their unique positions in his army, but it was Adrian’s guidance, his strong leadership, they were protecting, and in doing so, they were securing their own places in this hard new world. Kenn had guards on Adrian almost all the time now. Even the new guy, Seth, was doing it, without being an Eagle.
The guards were all relieved when Adrian went back inside where it was safer. To these men, their leader was invaluable. He was the last of his kind, and no one could take his place.
4
By dark, Adrian’s herd was being fed, and those finished were taking their shot on the twenty-five lanes that Kenn and Doug had managed to get working. Beautiful, warm heat was gushing out of the vents while snow fell heavily outside, and nearly everyone who had cracked a joke had now given Kenn apologetic words and claps on the back for saving them. If they had been caught out in the open, even a little snow and cold might have cost them lives. There were many questions, but the story of hearing it on the radio had already spread, and Kenn was glad not to have to repeat it. One lie was already going to be too much.
Adrian, Kenn, Kyle, Doug, and Neil were sitting at a round table on the top deck of the bowling alley. The Eagles were watching, laughing, and letting the camp have their fill first, but the leader’s attention was on his right-hand man.
Kenn was playing with a new deck of cards, fanning them out in different shapes and scooping them up like a professional. His face was pale, uncomfortable, and at that moment, Adrian found it hard to accept that the Marine might be special. Loyal and hardworking? Yes. Psychic? No, and it wasn’t because Adrian didn’t believe in it. He did, deeply, and while he longed for one of his circle to have such a gift, he couldn’t place it with Kenn.
Then how did he know? Adrian asked himself the important question, and the blunt, quick answer made him grimace. Kenn was in contact with someone not in this camp, and he was either lying or about to.
Almost as if Neil had caught the thought, he turned to Kenn, unable to hold it in any longer, “So come on. How’d you know?”
Neil’s question had the attention of the entire table and Kenn dropped his head. “I’d rather not say.”
“Why? You’re the hero now,” Neil insisted.
“You won’t believe me,” Kenn answered.
There was a thick silence as everyone stared at Adrian, and Kenn understood his moment of betrayal had come when those sharp eyes turned to him, searching.
Kenn sucked in a breath. “I feel things... Sometimes,” he said carefully.
It was the answer Adrian wanted, the magic he’d been hunting for, but it fell awkwardly from the Marine’s lips. He was right. None of them believed it.
“Okay.”
No one questioned it. That was Adrian’s chore, and the leader said nothing yet, still evaluating.
“Who’s ready to bowl?” Kenn asked cheerfully, hoping to distract them.
Everyone except for Adrian agreed and rose.
“You guys go on. I’ll catch up after I make rounds.”
Kenn opened his mouth to offer his company and snapped it shut, sensing Adrian’s unease. Let the boss man have some time to consider how big an advantage it would be to have a bad weather alarm that was never wrong. With that skill on his list, he’d never lose his place here.
Until the real deal comes, his mind reminded, and Kenn pushed it away. She wouldn’t make it this far west even with help. There was no way one of her weak-ass hospital friends would be able to keep two people alive through a thousand miles of this hell. She might even be dead now.
Happy with the image, Kenn went to be admired by his followers.
5
Adrian did continue to think about it–not about how great it would be, but about the lie that he’d just been told. He stood inside the glass doors as the snow fell harder, feeling the guards scanning him as his mind sorted it. Clearly, it wasn’t true. Kenn was in contact with someone, and he didn’t want that someone here. That was the only answer that made sense. Why?
Because they know the old Kenny, he guessed, unease growing. They knew whatever Neil suspected, and Kenn was leaving them out there to die, rather than bring them to safety and deal with it. Adrian’s face darkened. If that were true, he would have to change his plans for their future. By his own actions, Kenn would be unworthy. The one Adrian left leadership to needed to value life the way that he did.
The thick, dark flakes fell harder, and Adrian pushed Kenn from his mind for the moment as he swept what there was to see of the town around them. Pleased to discover his Eagles doing Recon nearby, taking pictures and widening the perimeter as they’d been taught, he concentrated. A foot or more. Were they prepared for that?