by Angela White
“Mental conversations. You can do that whenever you want?” Adrian had tried hard to sound like it wasn’t a big deal and knew he hadn’t been successful.
Angela nodded nervously and missed the happy greed that flashed as she reaffirmed the plan. She would be herself here–the newer, stronger woman–or she would take her boy and go somewhere else.
“Usually.”
Adrian had to struggle with himself not to ask her to prove it. He got them moving again, leaving her relieved, surprised, and a little suspicious. Shouldn’t he call her a liar or at least be asking questions?
He knows exactly what you are, the witch informed her. More so than Kenny ever did. Be careful.
2
Safe Haven was fully awake now, and people were everywhere, gawking at the new arrivals. Angela could hear them wondering who she was and when she’d come in, but it was clearest in the expressions of the sentries.
Most of the security was inside the tape, easily accessible, and the black-clad men were patrolling set areas. They appeared the same as SWAT officers, wore the exact clothes and gear from what she could see, but to Angela, the difference was in their gazes. They were much more aware, more alert than the cops of the old world had been.
She and Adrian walked by a taped-off area and stopped in front of a large grassy field with three enormous tents set up in a semicircle. The center shelter was a double-sided, brown circus style tent with an eighteen-wheeler backed in on each side. Angela glimpsed another, smaller, tent in the far corner and concentrated.
“You have a veterinarian?”
Adrian nodded. Despite all the trouble he already foresaw, his mood was good. His witch had come.
“Yes. We’ve gathered him a small herd. The goal is to produce our own food, and we try to be careful,” he said, leading her through a maze of chest-high, portable, wooden stalls that smelled of fresh straw and mildew. “We even keep them away from the gun area. Chris says it might upset them and make the meat sour.”
Adrian gestured at a thin, handsome, yet harried man of about forty, who was kneeling in one of the straw-covered pens.
Angela watched gentle hands push a big pill down a tiny mouth before putting the rabbit in a cage by itself.
“I’ve heard something like that,” Angela stated conversationally. “People used to say their livestock wouldn’t produce as well if they’re weren’t kept in the right surroundings.”
“Who’s this?”
The man’s voice put off equal waves of impatience and dislike, and Angela saw Adrian give him a warning look.
“This is Angela. She treats people. This is Chris. He treats animals.”
Angela automatically held out a hand, and the vet was forced to stop and wipe his on his filthy white coat.
The second they touched, she caught flashes, some of which disturbed her, and she quickly let go. “It’s pregnant.”
Before he could respond, Adrian moved forward, and Angela realized she had overstepped. The leader might think he was ready, but he knew his people weren’t. She would have to be more careful.
“You do this week’s tests yet?” Adrian distracted.
The vet’s gaze lingered on Angela as she wandered the cluttered aisles. “No. Tomorrow. I need…”
Angela swept the area as the men talked, admiring cats, chickens, a goat, and many other animals that each had their own neat cage or pen. It impressed her to detect not only extinguishers, but also fire alarms hanging from tent poles.
Adrian gestured, and she quickly took his right side, knowing instinctively that was where he wanted her. She looked at Chris, and he returned her stare with no change in annoyed expression.
Knowing she shouldn’t, Angela slipped into his thoughts and was a little surprised to find a thin wall.
He’s blocking me! She could be through it in seconds, sensed he was waiting for her to try, but she pulled out instead. What would she gain? Proving that she could, only to find he was scared and disliked her because of it? Angela let out a sigh and caught up with Adrian.
Next to the animal area was a large tow truck with a tarp stretched over a small space off to its side. As Adrian talked with the man behind the wheel, Angela understood this was Safe Haven’s communications center, and the man standing under the cover of the camouflage canopy was a guard, though, he wasn’t dressed like one.
Her brow creased with insight. Anyone this organized and careful had to be able to recognize Kenny for what he was. Had Adrian chosen to ignore it? He didn’t seem the type, but only time would tell. Time she and Marc would spend apart. She was missing him already.
Angela turned her back to Adrian and scanned the QZ, noticing there was one less tent now.
Marc appeared almost immediately in the doorway of the vinyl shelter farthest from everything.
You okay?
Angela was able to feel how upset he was. Had he and Kenn been in another fight?
I’m fine. Good place so far.
Marc shrugged, eyes going to Adrian as he came up behind her. We’ll see, won’t we?
Marc let the flap fall over the doorway.
“He’ll be out of there by morning. I skipped it with you because you’re a doctor,” Adrian stated.
Angela spun on him at the evasion. “Don’t do that! If we’re trying to build something, honesty between us matters.”
Adrian reddened a little at having his own words used against him. There wasn’t anyone else here who would do that to him, and Adrian was a little surprised to find his soul needed to be held accountable. Needed it and wanted it.
“I skipped it because I didn’t want to wait while you were quarantined.”
Angela almost rose to the bait and asked “wait for what?” but she wasn’t ready to talk about the things she sensed he now was ready for, and held silent.
Adrian once more let her evade, knowing she (and the herd) needed time, but he hated it that she was so aloof and so tense. He had only spent half an hour with her and already discovered things that shouldn’t be there, even for a survivor. Unless she was mistreated long before the war, Adrian thought.
Steady eye contact, mild reactions to gunfire, and fresh curiosity were things most of his people had arrived (or been found) with. These refugees had been fresh out of basements and cellars, or recovering from shock. They were too numb to be scared anymore, but there was a deep, wild fear in Angela that kept his mind on her arrival and her lip. Adrian was almost positive the injury had come from a vicious (or series of) backhanded slap, and he knew instinctively they hadn’t come from Marc. Their stares were too intense, too familiar. She wasn’t afraid of Marc, and unless Rick had hit her (and wouldn’t Kenn have told him that right away? Or killed the man?), that only left his Marine.
Adrian felt something shift in him as he stole a glance at the quiet woman on his right. He would protect her. No man would ever hit Angela in anger again. Not while she was under his protection.
3
It already felt like they’d been traveling the camp for hours, and Angela drew in a steadying breath as more trucks and campers came into view.
Nearby, there were armed men smoking and talking, and behind them, small, neat lines of people who stared and whispered.
Angela suddenly wondered if Adrian had a woman here who would be jealous of the time that he was spending showing her around. There was a hollow ping somewhere deep in her stomach, and she blinked away a red haze of blood. Marc was the only man she wanted.
Adrian moved closer, and Angela sensed he was trying very hard not to ask for something he needed. She felt him come to a decision when she remained silent.
Adrian stopped before they reached the row of trucks and people. “We have a thief.”
Angela’s brows drew up. “Why share that with me?”
“I’m hoping you’ll tell me who it is.”
Clearly, he already understood a lot about how different she was, and if she did this, if she searched the doors for him now, she wouldn’t be
able to refuse later.
Still, the thought of earning her place here based on what she could do was appealing, as Adrian had known it would be. Who could resist being needed and wanted for who they really were?
Besides, the witch seduced, he’s the best ally to have here. Give him what he wants. Build a debt.
Four of the five men sitting on crates by the open semi doors called greetings. Angela hung back as Adrian stepped over to the largest of them.
“Hey, Doug. How’s the count?”
The huge man grimaced, grinding out a cigar in the dry earth at his boots. When he stood, he towered over them all by inches.
“Light in every truck. Same as last week.”
The man’s Irish lilt was barely noticeable in his frustration, pleasing to the ear. When he caught her stare and winked, Angela couldn’t help smiling, a little amused (and intimidated) by all the interest from everyone. Kenn had ignored her unless he was in the mood, and people at a hospital weren’t aware enough of their surroundings to notice something as unimportant as looks. Until her trip with Marc, she hadn’t felt pretty in a long time.
“Didn’t break in. The locks are fine,” Doug stated. “They must have a key.”
Adrian stared into the nearly empty truck, and Doug waited for the new solution he knew was coming, but his mind was on the woman, recognizing the way she carried herself. Had she served?
“Okay. Post new rules. Fuel and water trucks are now shut from eleven to six at night. Only Level guards or higher will have access after those hours. Put a red collar dog out–stake ‘em down with those railroad spikes if you have to, and we’ll hope it doesn’t rain.”
Doug agreed, attention still on the woman.
Adrian knew and motioned her forward.
“This is Angela. She’s Charlie’s mom and, hopefully, our second doctor. This is Doug, Daryl, Chris, Tony, and Danny. These guys are pretty useful, so you’ll remember their names after a while,” he joked, though, Danny and Tony couldn’t honestly be included. Those two were mostly just useless.
Angela exchanged polite (and avoided leering) glances with the men, and then Doug limped forward to shake.
His massive hand swallowed hers, and Angela’s gift surged forward at the contact, pulling violently.
The sky darkened to charcoal, and thunder crashed, shaking the ground they stood on.
A surge of protectiveness flashed across Doug’s face, an involuntary reaction to her kind.
Angela slid her hand free. “Nice to meet so many loyal men.”
The others hadn’t seen or felt anything (except Adrian. He caught it all), only heard her words.
Adrian snickered at Doug’s confusion, eyes ordering as his mouth spoke. “She must want extra shampoo or something.”
The men snickered, and Doug questioned, “You’re Kenn’s lady?”
“Not anymore.”
Her quick denial was noticed by all of them.
Doug gave her a friendly once over. “Well, I’d be honored to take his place.”
Angela blushed. The others laughed again, and she joined in, still embarrassed. “Thanks, but I’m not searching for a replacement.”
Eyeing her split lip, Doug wondered how much the new man had to do with that. Their arrival story was currently racing through the slowly waking people.
“Well, you say the word lass, and I’m all yours. I’d even take off me vest iffin ya wanted.”
Even Angela laughed this time, but Adrian was silently asking if she’d made a choice. Had she?
Adrian drew the attention back to himself, wanting to know if anyone had heard anything last night, and Angela realized she had already made up her mind. She’d hoped for this a long time ago, a world where she could be accepted because of her gift instead of in spite of it, and the voices whispered again that Adrian could give it to her. She would do this for him; allow him to place her where he wanted. Once things settled down, she and Marc could–
Angela stopped herself, not wanting to search her future again and see only darkness. She’d do these things for the right reasons and never take another life. That, was a guilt she didn’t think she was strong enough to survive again.
Angela leaned down to tie her shoe and slipped into their minds, hard and quick. Seconds later, the dark glow of thievery lit up around one of them. It was unmistakable, very common at the hospital where many of the patients were strung out drug addicts suffering from withdrawals.
When Adrian raised a brow amid the conversation, she gestured at Danny, the only one pretending to belong, and then turned her back to all of them. She was unable to look at the man now that she had condemned him.
Adrian was floored, not sure if he believed her, and yet completely sure that he did. Danny was arrogant, lazy, and often disrespectful to the women. Adrian hadn’t cared much for the “handyman” when he’d come to them back in Utah, and the feeling had only grown in the weeks since then. Especially when they had realized there wasn’t anything the man was handy at.
Exchanging a friendly glance with Doug as they left, Angela stayed quiet and alert. She let the witch scan the people and file things they could improve on, but she didn’t say anything, not sure if that was what Adrian meant by helping him. Answering when asked was fine with her.
Trying not to dwell on that side of the duties yet, she enjoyed the warming wind and bright rays of sun piercing the thin layer of grit. It was rare.
They passed a group playing soccer on one side of camp, then a circle of men and teenage boys learning to handle dirt bikes, and it was impressive. Such control and neat organization, amid so much destruction and chaos, was enough to ease some of her fears about using her gift. Maybe these people were different. Adrian certainly was.
They hadn’t gone very far when Angela noticed there were people following them, a small group of five.
Adrian felt her nervousness. Normally, they waited until he was ready, but the leader wanted her to relax. He stopped, waving one of them over. “What’s up, Matt?”
The gawky teenager flushed with pleasure at being chosen first. “Dad said to ask you if I can relieve him for an hour.”
Adrian pretended to be studying the teen with suspicion. “You passed Kenn’s new radio test?”
The pimple-spotted boy stood up straighter. “Yes, sir! Yesterday.”
Adrian grinned. “Great. Tell Mitch I said to take two hours.”
Matt’s face lit up, and he was gone a second later, his clumsy run difficult to view.
4
Adrian spent the next five minutes standing in the wind, making choices and easily pleasing his people while getting what he needed from them. When they were gone, he gave Angela a knowing tone. “Is that better?”
She didn’t like to play mind games, but the old Angela took control, smiling coolly. “Set up like a king, and maybe the peasants don’t know.”
Adrian noted the beautiful, purple sparks in the depths of her crystal eyes. He would have to dig up information on that. He’d never seen it before. “They know it. It’s their doing.”
Angela didn’t consider calling him on the lie, but she knew one when she heard it. There was no way he had left something as serious as his approval and power to chance. That realization sent her back to Kenn’s introduction. It had made her uncomfortable, but she wasn’t sure why. Someone had to be in charge, right?
People were staring openly now, not quite whispering anymore. Angela assumed Adrian was giving her the long tour, but as more and more people watched them, she was forced to consider that he probably wasn’t the one who usually gave the tour either. He was telling them he considered her important, and Angela was surprised to feel honored by it. She had changed.
“They don’t mean to be rude. They’re trying to figure out if you’re one of the good guys and why you’re with me.”
“That’s why, right? So you can find out?”
Adrian held her stare. “I was sure of you the second our eyes met. I need time to convince you
.”
Angela chuckled.
Adrian steered them toward three long, white semis parked in a tight half circle, and her expression told him that she approved of the multi-colored lanterns and Disney-character decals. There was also a play area in this closed-in space, along with a jungle gym, swings, and slides.
Angela also noticed the guard, something she wouldn’t have picked out, if not for her time with Marc. The armed sentry was stationary between two of the rolling homes, and she felt him assessing her level of threat. The attention paid to detail here was astounding after the last fourteen hundred miles of chaos and horror, but it was that sense of safety, of being protected, that was pulling at Angela. Here, she wouldn’t have to kill anyone. Except maybe Kenn, she amended.
“We try to always have two sitters available at all times. It’s important for parents to be able to come and go.”
“Do you have a lot of kids?”
“No.” The disappointment was clear in his tone. “Only a dozen and we have so many people who lost children that we had to create a test for them to pass to even be considered as a sitter or live-in. We have to be sure good people are raising our orphans.”
He saw her raised brow and explained as he tapped twice on the door and stepped in. “Live-ins do just that. They live here with the kids and help them. Foster parents. Peggy’s the sitter today. She’s everyone’s favorite.”
Angela instantly liked the older redhead, thinking it made a lot of sense to do things this way. “You’re organized,” she praised as they left the kid’s area.
Adrian steered them toward the east side. “These people work hard. You will too, but it’s all worth it.”
Thinking she could use a pit stop, Angela wondered unhappily why Marc was so pissed. She could feel his anger from here and assumed someone’s words (she hoped it was only words) had struck a nerve, but she didn’t call to him and offer comfort. Marc would land on his feet, and while they were falling through this hell, he knew how to take care of himself. Hadn’t he taught her?
They stopped at the rear of the now empty mess, near a large row of trucks with pictures of American cities on them. Adrian hit a button on a small black box attached to his belt that she hadn’t noticed.