by Angela White
Tonya slowly sauntered toward him, hoping Kenn would be at least half as good as their fearless leader had been. “I’ve noticed.”
Kenn huffed at her, ears straining to hear if they were really alone. “What do you want?”
Tonya sauntered over. “I never got to congratulate you on making XO.”
She wiggled a finger, other hand slowly sliding her short skirt up.
Kenn didn’t hesitate.
Tonya melted against him, lips finding a sensitive spot on his neck, and he lit up, arching against her.
Nose full of pot, whiskey, and woman, Kenn locked their mouths. He’d gone without for a long time.
Kenn grunted as his jeans fell to his ankles and then groaned as Tonya’s soft hand closed over his hard flesh like a glove. Her lips slid from his neck, and his big hands tangled in her thick curls, pushing her to her knees. If anyone had come down the hall, it would have been too late to hide, but luck was with them, and they remained alone while Adrian met the new people.
9
“Where?” Adrian strode into the storm, Doug and Neil flanking him, but didn’t need them to point out what could only be the headlights of a big truck moving carefully through the heavy snow. Adrian’s gut immediately said sheep, and he turned to Doug, storing the fact that Kenn was still nowhere to be seen.
“Tell the doctor he has patients, and put up tents in the lea of the Alley. Get some heaters in them too. Also have...Maria start a fresh batch of meals.”
Doug was still scribbling the information down as he and Neil left, and they began dividing the list.
Adrian watched the semi roll toward the only part of the alley’s entrance that was still visible through the eight inches of gray slush. Their noise had drawn more of his own, and he wanted them, but maybe there was another of his circle in that truck too.
“Get everyone inside. This is now a quarantine zone!” Adrian barked to the Eagle on his flank.
Kyle waved his men over, and Adrian watched the semi pull into the lot, weaving past deeper drifts that were as hard as concrete blocks. The inside light of the red rig was on and he counted four white, middle-aged males crammed inside, their hands in plain view.
“Lesson three, Eagles. Move.”
Nothing happened for a second, and then Kyle reacted, drawing his Glock. “Weapons out. Don’t shoot unless I do.”
The other eight men immediately dropped back to form a neat, wide V-shape in front of Adrian, aiming their guns at the truck’s huge tires.
The driver reacted fearfully, and gears squealed in protest as the semi shuddered to a stop about forty feet away, sliding a little in the thick slush.
Adrian was pleased. “Very good.” He said nothing else, only waited.
Kyle motioned his team forward. “Secure and disarm. Go!”
They went in a hurry, like the professionals from before the war, and the faded truck was surrounded before Adrian finished grinding out his smoke.
10
“Damn, that was good. Wanna do it again!”
Kenn agreed against her sweaty neck as his body twitched inside hers. He slowly moved out and let her slide down the wall, mouth running before enough blood had made it to his brain to allow thinking. “Later. We got lucky no one came down.”
Tonya hadn’t expected to be claimed right away, but his obvious reluctance hurt her, drew claws hunting a taste of his blood.
“They’re busy in the parking lot, talking to the new people.” Her face lit up with satisfaction and spite. “He’ll wonder where you were, but he’ll understand leadership comes with...perks.”
Tonya’s tone was gloating, and Kenn kept himself from hitting her by only a hair.
Tonya sensed it and ducked under his arm, moving away.
“If I lost ground, I’ll claim you to make you pay. Don’t ever come between us! You’ll be sorry.”
Tonya acted unafraid, though she knew he wasn’t bluffing. She gave him a seductive smile as she fixed her clothes, tossed him his shirt. “I won’t. You gonna...cum to me tonight?” she asked, eyeing his chest as he pulled the shirt on over mussed hair.
Kenn jerked her up against his hard body, grinding his mouth on hers. Her arms curled around his neck, and Kenn tasted her deeply before shoving her away.
“Yeah. Here, late. I’ll bring a blanket.”
11
“Hi! I’m Chris. This is Tim, Carter, and Paul. We live here.” The man paused, showing his horror. “Or at least we did. Now we hide here.”
The thin face was lined with worry, and Kyle waved toward Adrian. “Hand over that shotgun, and you can talk to the boss.”
Chris did with little hesitation, and motioned for the others to do the same. “Give ‘em up, boys.”
The other three were less trusting, and without their guns, they all appeared scared and desperate. Heavy beards and thin bodies said they were, and Adrian greeted them with friendly, compassionate tones, handshakes hiding his disappointment. Only survivors in this batch, no shepherds.
“I’m Adrian. Welcome to Safe Haven. You come in peace?”
All the thinly jacketed men nodded, but Chris was clearly in charge, and they let him speak.
“You bet your ass. Peace and hope.”
Adrian was aware of Seth’s disappointment as he waited by the front doors with the others who weren’t Eagles. Whomever the undercover cop was searching for, he already sensed they weren’t with these people either.
“Then you’re welcome here. What do you need?”
Relief fell over the man’s face, and he said, “Help, son. We need help.”
“We need food! They’re starving!” Paul blurted.
The other three new men stared disapprovingly at Paul’s red face before turning to Adrian.
“I’ll beg if I have to. We’re dying,” pleaded Chris.
“Not another one of you if I can help it,” Adrian swore with conviction. “We offer you sanctuary, so long as you follow the rules. Be sure, though. We consider ourselves a Red Cross convoy, and we gather survivors while we search for safety. We travel four days out of seven, sometimes more.”
All of them bobbed again, relaxing a little at his words, and while Adrian was glad they weren’t a problem, it confirmed it that he wouldn’t be finding any of his own in this group.
Neil leaned in, whispering, and the four townspeople shifted nervously as Adrian scowled at them. “Who’s in the truck?”
Chris hurried to explain. “Our families. We couldn’t leave them while we came to talk to you. It’s not safe here.”
“Or anywhere else. You should have mentioned them already.”
Adrian gave Neil a gesture that said to watch them, and he moved to the rear of the long vehicle before Chris could defend himself. All four of the locals followed at a distance, aware of guards who had yet to holster their weapons.
“Eagles. What is part B, of lesson three?”
There was silence, and then Kyle’s dismayed voice, “Never assume a cargo area is empty. Approach and handle as if it is full of the enemy.” They hadn’t secured the entire threat.
“No harm this time, and while you’ve done okay, this won’t be considered a success. Open these doors.”
Knowing they’d all just lost Level Three status, Kyle smothered his disappointment to unlock the heavy door and shoved it upward. He did a quick scan and then moved back to allow Adrian inside.
The reek of unwashed bodies hit them hard, but the slicked hair and messy braids told Adrian the people had at least attempted to make themselves presentable. He studied their worried and hopeful faces, recognizing hunger but not starvation, need but not the desperation the four men had alluded to. Why the lie? Protection from raiders? He could provide a little of that.
“Eagles, these are our newest members. We’re going to feed them, give them medical care, and protect them. In return, they’re going to follow our rules and help each other survive.”
The women and children–there were only two, but Adrian
was glad to have them–were huddled on blankets on the truck’s dirty floor, the elderly sitting in chairs with pillows and blankets. The oldest among them, her long hair almost silver, raised a thin, arthritic arm. “Will ya help an old woman up, young man?”
Adrian and Kyle reacted at the same time, with Seth waiting on the foot rails to assist. “Yes ma’am, and so will any of us. Eagles, assembly line. And someone find out how long before the food’s ready. Welcome to Safe Haven. May it become your home.”
When the truck was empty, Adrian went to Chris, who was still waiting by the tailgate.
“You lose your men and boys to the Draft?”
The man dropped his eyes to the left as he answered, “Yeah. Half our females too.”
Adrian frowned. What else was he lying about?
“Thank you for taking us in. I’ll make sure they behave.”
“No, you won’t. That’s my job now.”
Chris gave in quickly, with relief. “And thank you for that too. I thought I wanted to be in charge, but I’m not enough, and I give it up gratefully.”
Chris on his heels, Adrian moved toward the fullest tent, glad the doctor wasn’t being overwhelmed. When Kenn appeared at his side, Adrian said nothing about his tardiness.
“We now have twenty-eight new members. This is Chris. This is Kenn, my second in command. There’s little he can’t handle, so if you need something, he’s the one to talk to. We’ll need names, ages, and occupations and they’ll need the medications John prescribes, lists of rules, clothing, and sleeping gear for tonight. Chris will go with you to get them settled. They’ll also need porto-cans and some kids to run errands for them–your boy too, if you’re all right with it.”
Adrian paused to let him catch up and took in the messy hair, the corner of his shirt untucked. If Kenn found a woman here, all the better. “We’ll sort out tent arrangements first. Double the sentries again and tell everyone inside to go back to what they were doing. Lights out at 1am.”
12
The tired leader was in the office hours later, writing in his journal, and he paused at yet another creak of footsteps outside the open door, where over a hundred of his people were resting, finally calm enough to sleep.
“You busy?”
“Nope. What’s up?”
Charlie hesitated to go inside, and did only after sweeping the dim hall first. “I heard something while I was shoveling…about the new people.”
The question was there, and Adrian nodded. “Tell me.”
“It wasn’t the Draft. They left to find help.”
Adrian added up the clues. “The others tried to stop them? Made them run?”
Charlie’s voice was low. “Some of them escaped, and died. They chained the others.”
Angry, Adrian asked before he knew he was going to, “Should they be allowed to stay?”
Once it was out, he didn’t pull it back, waiting for this curious child’s decision.
Charlie shrugged, aware that it had become his choice, but not why or how. “They’re sorry. They hope some of them might come back, left them notes about us.”
Adrian considered. Sometimes guilt would make changes where little else could, and sometimes your instinct was all you had. The boy thought they should be allowed to stay, and he would feel guilty if his words got them thrown out. “It’s not always wrong now, death. Your mom might tell you that, I think.”
Adrian was taking a big guess and knew he was right by the silence. If it were anything else, he would have denied wanting his mother.
Charlie hesitated, lonely and wanting to trust, but his fear of Kenn was as big as his mother’s was. It made him turn away without saying any of the things he wanted to, without offering a special kind of help.
Kenn was busy getting the new people settled, and his mood stayed good despite missing his rendezvous with Tonya. He had plenty of help without having to ask, and Kenn was confident his place here was sealed. Right-hand man belonged to him now, had all along according to Adrian, but the camp’s approval could make or break you, and now he had it.
Adrian’s other men, those who had been here longer (and still wanted what was no longer available), tried not to be bitter or hateful, accepting that Adrian saw something in Kenn that they did not, something they themselves were lacking. Their desire for Adrian’s approval and recognition would make them uneasy and awkward with Kenn at times, but only Neil had spoken against it and not openly. Adrian had made his choice, and now Kenn could openly give what the job demanded–everything.
Chapter Twenty-One
Paradise
February 25th
Pitcairn Island
1
Kendle’s exile into the wilderness lasted for sixty days and sixty nights, and then, as suddenly as her nightmare had begun, it ended. The small, weathered speedboat washed up on a sandy shore while she slept, and it was the painful twisting and cramping of her stomach that woke her.
The adventurist crawled clumsily to the side of the boat with her eyes still shut and retched until her belly was empty and her throat burned. She didn’t notice the lack of motion that was causing her misery and dipped her hand to splash her face, crying a little at the abrupt beginning to her day. Instead of debris-filled waves, there was only the warm wetness of her vomit and the hard grit beneath it.
Caw! Caw!
Kendle’s eyes flew open. Thick green trees waving over a vast, sandy beach greeted her.
Birds called curiously above, flying into the thick palm trees with annoyed chirps, and she blinked, smelling fragrant flowers and earth. Her attention shifted to the steep green and orange cliffs, and hills of waving trees. Land?
Kendle stood up in a quick, jerky movement, and her stomach twisted again, knocking her off her feet and out of the boat.
Her hands and legs flailed, trying to keep her afloat, and she hit the sand with a hard thud that knocked out the instinctive breath she’d sucked in. She lay on the warm, dry beach, coughing and crying as she cradled her aching stomach.
Land! I’m on land!
Kendle forced her shaking knees together and stood on dirt for the first time in eight weeks, muscles protesting as they struggled to hold her up. Her entire body felt weak, wrong, and she swiped distractedly at tears. She hadn’t thought she would ever feel safe again, and her eyes repeatedly returned to the bright green treetops. She was on land! She could survive here.
The model-turned-actress forced her new legs to carry her into the hated floating coffin for her meager supplies, swearing it would be a long time before she ever got into one again. She had been afraid to fly before, but what was a quick, fiery crash in comparison to the hell she’d just survived?
It took Kendle a while to gather her things, and she cringed each time the rough surf caressed the battered boat, terrified the waves would pull her back out. She picked the middle of three paths into the dense jungle and, dragging the pillowcase behind her, began to walk, heart calmer than it had been since losing her sister. Her tender feet protested the cool, sharp, forest floor, and the pain sent joy rushing through her. She knew how to survive in this world. She was safe!
2
Luke Johnson gently set his pole into the small holder he’d dug in the lush paddle grass, absently aware of his line twitching as a fish toyed with his bait. On the beach nearby, bees and other fat insects buzzed and moved on, drawn to the waves rushing ashore with more garbage.
Luke leaned back, worried. The monthly supply plane hadn’t come since December, and they hadn’t been able to raise anyone on any of the CBs or satellite phones. And now, Frank hadn’t shown up for their annual week together. The two men had forged a strong bond in the jungles of Vietnam, and the retired pilots, who’d both been shot down and lived through eighteen months in the same POW camp, never missed their week together. Not once, in thirty years.
The retired soldier stood up to stretch, wishing he had one of those internet hookups all the tourists had been so attached to last summer. A little b
lack case opened up like a Battleship game! Sometimes technology was great, but out here, it was nearly nonexistent.
Pitcairn was about as cut off from civilization as anyone could get. The whole island had only one bay for ships, the rugged cliffs foreboding, and there wasn’t a single telephone line. The lack of communication to the outside world was frustrating sometimes. The island took as much as it gave, but for the most part, that was exactly why people came here and stayed.
“It makes us uneasy, though.” Luke thought of the silent Coast Guard, who they could normally hear even during storms, and then the ocean itself. Not one cruise liner in the distance, and he would know. He was on the “traffic” side of the beach every day, fishing, reading, swimming, and forgetting. There was nothing but static and debris. Pitcairn Island seemed to have been completely forgotten.
It wasn’t a crisis here. The sixty-one people calling this tropical paradise home had learned to pull their needs gently from the land around them, but it was causing unrest and lowly spoken conversations in town. What had happened to their old lives? Blown away? Luke was almost sure. He’d spent time in a war zone and could read the clues. No contact, strange sunsets, rough storms despite it not being the season, and of course, all the debris, were sure signs.
The water levels had risen, bringing in load after load of garbage until they’d had to expand the town dump. Even now, Bounty Bay was alive with crawling crabs, booby birds, and broad-winged albatrosses that were pillaging the trash. The explosions that left behind this much wreckage had surely cost lives, he thought, packing up his gear. What the hell had happened? Had America gone to war and lost?
Luke turned on his flashlight as he trekked to his one room cabin to brush his grill and hit the rack. He wanted to know for sure and planned to be on the north beach at sunrise with the town’s strongest CB. He suspected the entire world was AFU, and while there hadn’t been proof, he’d already begun to grieve for his country.