by Angela White
Still embarrassed, Becky didn’t talk to Neil as she strode by and her unhappiness was a source of guilt. He’d been flirting and leading the girl on for months, and now, when she was about to be his, he wasn’t certain he still wanted her. What had Samantha done to him?
Becky climbed into the kid’s camper with a feeling of relief. There were so many people watching her these days! Some of those were Adrian’s men, and she liked that part, but the newest groups of people were odd. Like that guy, Rick. He’d been doing no work, that she had seen, for the whole time he’d been here, but today, she had found him rooting in the sludge behind the camp. When she’d asked if he needed help, he’d stared at her in a way that Neil never had. She’d almost run right then, would have if the man had made a single move toward her, but he’d only smiled intently and refused her offer.
That feeling of danger had come again later, when she’d asked if he minded her being there, and oh man, the things she could tell he wanted to do to her! Again, he’d only given a short “no” and she had hung around for nearly an hour, studying his body. Every now and then he would glance up at her with that open want, but he hadn’t stopped whatever it was that he’d been doing.
Becky ignored the worried mother watching her climb into the bunk and increased the volume on her iPod. If not for it getting dark, she probably would have stayed longer. Who knows what might have happened then, she thought, and a shiver of fear went through her stomach.
Rick was dangerous. And wasn’t that why she liked Neil? Becky had come across him and Adrian once, play fighting with their shirts off, and she had been drawn to them both after that. She’d known she had no hopes with their leader, but Neil made her feel all strange inside too, so she’d settled for him. Now, there was another, older woman in that picture and Becky’s female heart asked if she wanted to make a switch. If Neil wasn’t capable of the emotions she was searching for, maybe Rick was.
12
“So she’s gonna be an Eagle, huh?”
Charlie gave a short nod, not saying anything. He was ignoring her and feeling bad for it. Why couldn’t his mom be one of them? Because Kenn said so? What right did he have to make the rules?
“Bummer.”
“Yeah.” But Charlie wasn’t so sure. If his mom were an Eagle, Kenn wouldn’t be able to hurt either one of them anymore.
Much like the previous one, most of the next hour in Matt’s tent was spent playing cards and taking short, stomach-hurting swigs off the bottle that Matt had swiped from his dad. Not as bad yet, Matt did have a problem as far as Charlie was concerned. He usually avoided the drinking moments, but this time, he was the one who finished off the cheap wine. He’d pay for it in the morning, but tonight it was drowning out his confusion and the teenager went willingly.
“My dad says she won’t be a real Eagle.”
Charlie frowned, voice slurring, “Why snot?”
“Because she’ll never mak-make it by the cage.”
Charlie let his friend ramble on about what it meant, but inside, he grew angrier. While they were apart, he couldn’t wait for his mom to get here, but now that she was, where was the happiness? Why couldn’t she just be his parent and a doctor?
The semi-adult inside protested, telling him he barely needed her for that now. And if she wanted to be an Eagle, she had every right to try. This was the new world and things didn’t have to be like they were before. But if that were true, why was everyone so upset with her? If it were a good idea, wouldn’t his dad be supporting the idea instead of fighting with her over it?
Full of confusion and anger at the unfairness, Charlie let Matt talk him into sneaking into his dad’s tent for a second theft.
Not quite noisy enough to be caught by anyone who would tell on them, the boys were drinking steadily a short time later, sharing the bottle and their miseries.
Marc patrolled the male tents carefully, checking for signs of trouble. He’d openly challenged Zack and Kenn enough times to be watching his back, but he was unprepared for the sound of Charlie’s drunken voice calling him a bastard.
“You shouldn’t say that!” Matt was horrified. He worshipped his own father.
“Why not?” Charlie blared, tones full of pain. “He’s only here for her anyway.”
“You don’t know that.”
Marc tensed, wondering if the other boy knew about Charlie’s gifts.
“Has he tried to spend any time with me?”
“You told him to go to hell, right? Grownups don’t like that shit.”
They both giggled drunkenly at the curses, and Marc hesitated. If Angie found out about this, she’d hit the roof. And if he kept it from her and she found out, their relationship would take another blow. Not sure what to do, Marc moved to the flap, listening. Maybe he wouldn’t have to–
“Hey! Let’s sneak out of camp, go have an adventure! That’ll show ‘em I’m a person too!”
“Yeah!”
“No.”
Marc’s voice was harsh as he entered the reeking tent and both boys jumped. The half-finished bottle of wine fell to the floor and oozed greenish liquid.
“Matt, get that cleaned up and then go tell your dad.”
The pit-marked boy paled. “Nn-no way!”
“Yes. Go tell him. Charlie, go get a shower and then tell your mom.”
“No.”
“I won’t d-do it!”
Both teenagers were drunk and willing to fight and Marc reconsidered.
“Maybe I’ll go get Adrian,” he threatened. “Bet you guys are looking forward to a long day’s work with those headaches you’ll have.”
“Will you be coming too, daddy?” Charlie sneered disrespectfully, pushing himself up off the canvas. “I hear you’ve been spending a lot of time there.”
“Just to avoid you, snot-head,” Marc quipped, reaching out to jerk the thin boy onto his feet. “Get over here.”
Marc shook the teenager once, needing him to know he wouldn’t put up with any trouble, and wasn’t surprised by the fear in his son’s face.
“Matt, get this cleaned up.” Marc ordered. “Mitch gonna beat you or something?”
Matt wanted to lie, but couldn’t with those demanding eyes freezing him in place. “Maybe.”
Marc sighed. “Then don’t let him find out. If I get into a fight with him over this, I’ll have a hit or two for you of my own.”
Charlie glared belligerently and Marc gave the teen an easy shove toward the flap. “Come on, adventure boy. Let’s you and I have a man-to-man.”
Charlie caught himself before he fell and stomped out into the cool air with his dad on his heels. “I’m going to the mess.”
Marc neatly wrapped him up under one arm. “You’re going to take a cold shower.”
“Let go of me, you jerk!”
Marc delivered a light slap with his free hand. “Mr. Jerk.”
The teenager found that hilarious and sang it, all the way to the shower.
“Mr. Jerk, take a dirk, break my murk, Mr. Jerk!” Laughing, Charlie collapsed onto his knees, dragging Marc down.
The impatient man swung the boy up and over his shoulder. “Come on, before your mom–”
Marc groaned at the slender shadow ahead of them, and felt Charlie tense. “Too late, boy. You’re in deep shit now.”
He relaxed at the sight of Samantha coming from the showers, realizing he’d mistaken them.
“Not her, huh?” the boy muttered, fear bringing him down fast.
Marc took a better grip. “No. Let’s get you–”
Blaaccchhhhh!
Marc froze as vomit splashed down his legs, and the blonde walking by flashed him a glance of sympathy.
“Some days are hell.”
The father’s sigh was full of suffering as he walked uncomfortably toward the showers that both of them now needed, the teenager still gagging out nasty wine. “Tell me about it.”
Chapter Nine
Snap, Rumble, and Wait
1
> “Repeat it back to me.”
Angela struggled to remember everything, still not completely awake as they trolled the camp. She had been surprised to have Adrian at her tent flap before dawn and that feeling hadn’t worn off yet.
“Anything will spook a large group of people, from strange noises to your expression. Keep your face blank. Never let them know how you feel or what you're really thinking.”
Angela nodded distractedly at his repetition, becoming aware of Kenn moving their way with the usual hateful sneer he seemed to wear all the time.
“Why?”
Angela blinked. “Why, what?”
“Why all these precautions? Why not tell them the hard truth and force them to understand they only have one choice, one way? Mine.”
“Because they'd lose faith and leave,” she replied quickly. That was an easy one. “They want a leader to not only save them, but to also shoulder all the weight that comes with it. They don't want to hear the wolf's at the door, only that he was sent on his way.”
Adrian was impressed. Again, and he leaned in. “You had teaching, right? A military family member at least?”
Ignoring Kenn’s glower, she shook her head, not sure if she should be insulted. “Not other than him. Should I be insulted?”
Adrian was full of the good relief that still came every time she used her gift in front of him. “No. You're taking it all in so well.”
She smiled, a bit bitterly. “For a woman.”
“For anyone. You're moving up the shooting ranks faster than Seth, and Kyle said he'll have to work plans out every night to stay a lesson ahead. It's...”
“Like I’ve already done it, even though I haven’t,” she finished quietly with the answer she'd given herself. She was in love with this lifestyle. She loathed the war, but she had found a purpose in helping these people and not a day was going by now that she didn't do something for them, from searching for hiding survivors, to cooking.
Her happy mood faded a bit. Cooking, with Maria last week. That had been an awkward shift where she'd learned nothing of value.
“Angie?”
She shook it off. “Sorry. Something keeps pulling me, about the cook.”
“She's under guard,” Adrian told her. The Mexican woman had been Angela’s first real moment of action upon joining Safe Haven, her first warning, and he would heed it.
“Were you a leader before, training soldiers?”
Adrian shut down and she gave him a cool smile laced with razor sharp edges. “And here I thought we'd become–.”
“What are you training her for?”
Adrian looked over at Kenn's interruption, voice hard. “Can’t you guess?”
Kenn didn't want to accept defeat. He wanted to fight for his place, but already knew it was too late to stop whatever Adrian had planned around her. “Never mind.”
Kenn stomped off to resume his rounds on Point and Angela stared at Adrian questioningly. “Well?”
Adrian grinned, but the smile didn't reach far. “He thinks it’s to take his place.”
Angela raised a brow. “You know I don't want his spot, right? I don't need to be by your side.”
Adrian gave nothing away. “Why don’t you go spend some time on targets? Prove it to the few Eagles who still don’t believe you made that shot.”
Shrugging, Angela did as she was instructed. She didn’t understand everything he had going on, but she did trust him. They had the same goals–survival and rebuilding. With those two things always in the rear of her mind, it left little room for anything else.
Adrian was aware of all the attention on them. Everyone was curious, some even thinking he may have a personal interest. Hair now kept pinned under her cap, it was still clear that Angela was a woman, from too-slender hips, to the too-full shirt. It caused more than one of them to do a double take upon viewing her in the full Eagle gear. Once their male brains registered the full chest, it was inevitable for them to study her red lips and pale skin for long moments at a time. Her high cheekbones and long lashes were wrong to see under that cover, was a common thought. Only the slightly crooked nose (a result of Kenn’s quick hands) and the scar on her shoulder fit the part.
The leader veered toward his tent, thinking his emotions were nothing compared to all the good she would do for these people. This week, it was new people, rookie records, fresh supplies, and the start of first aid classes. Next week, who knew?
Adrian ducked inside the spotless canvas, but stayed only long enough to grab something from a bag Peggy had delivered late last night, and to make a quick call to Kyle about the extra shadows in the corn. He’d discovered Dog running them off and he wanted their other working animals out there helping, too, now that it was day light.
He emerged into the dimness, gaze going to the grit-layered sky. It appeared clear, but he had this feeling there might be trouble on the way again. Nature had left them alone for too long.
All attention was on Adrian as he strode through camp, the rookie jacket over his arm a clear sign that someone was about to be officially accepted into his army. There was a lot of speculation from both sheep and shepherds on who it would be. Adrian had only done this publicly twice, and there was a spring to his step that said neither time had been as important.
Adrian strode purposefully toward the firing range and people watched eagerly to discern what man was in the boss’s good graces today.
Angela holstered the .357, grinning at the surprise of the Eagles around her. She’d matched a Level Six shooter on the farthest target they were currently training on.
“Holy shit!”
Kyle saw Adrian coming and made sure he heard the call. “Rookie record. Put it in the books.”
Billy hesitated. “Uh, under female?”
“Just rookie,” Adrian answered, stopping near his two highest teams, his most loyal men. “I’d have your vote, here and now.”
Angela wanted to say, “Like they’d vote no, when you’re carrying my jacket over your arm!” Instead, she kept her reddening face blank as he’d been trying to teach her, sure Adrian had his own way of doing things like this.
“Kyle?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She keeps up, tries to pull her weight.”
“Acts like an Eagle should?”
“As much as any man here, so far.”
“And the vote of your team?”
“Aye!”
Adrian regarded Neil. “Your call?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she believes as much as you do. She wants to be one of us, in female form.”
Neil’s words weren’t so firm that those listening couldn’t hear the doubt, but the fact that he was willing to give her a chance meant something to all of them.
“And your team?”
“Aye!”
The responses made it possible for Adrian to hold out the coveted jacket to the prettily-flushed warrior woman of his dreams.
“Welcome to my Army, Angela.”
2
Finally breaking free of his blurry, tropical mystery-filled dreams, Charlie groaned. His hands came up to cover his face. Why was it so bright?
The teenager rolled over, and moaned again as his stomach sloshed uneasily. He slowly pushed himself up on one arm, wiping at his eyes with the other and recoiled in shock at the pain from his own touch. What had happened last night?
Charlie wiped at his damp eyes again, this time much more carefully. He and Matt had gotten stinking drunk and…they’d been caught! His dad had dragged him–
“Good morning. Son.”
Charlie winced at the lance of pain from the shout. Had he spent the night here? Did Adrian or his mom know? Charlie pried his lids open and slowly swiveled his head.
Marc was sitting on the floor by the flap, covered with his long leather jacket.
“How ya feelin’?”
Charlie clamped down on the waves of nausea to answer, “Lik
e a coyote ate me and crapped me off a cliff.”
Marc chuckled at the joke from last night’s adult film, Purgatory. It was currently circling the camp. “Been there.”
Charlie raised a brow, too miserable to fight yet. “What makes it go away?”
“Time, mostly.”
The boy shook his head and immediately cradled it in his hands. “What else? I have to work today.”
Marc studied him, impressed. “You’re going to work like that?”
The hung-over teen remembered not to move. “I never miss. They’ll check me out.”
“I already cleared you for the day. After that, you’re on your own with the lies.”
Charlie wanted to be furious at the possible betrayal, but snotty was the best he could manage. “You tell on me?”
“Nope.”
“You going to?”
“No, I thought I’d hold it over you until you do something I want.”
Charlie opened his lids a little wider, trying to shake off the hangover without jostling himself. “What?”
“Listen.”
Charlie tried to sneer, but was sure it came out as a grimace. His stomach was cramping, needing release again, maybe. “Little late for a father-son moment.”
“It’s never too late, smartass.”
The blunt words helped Charlie come closer to being fully awake and he glared at his dad. “Why don’t you get the hell out? No one wants you here.”
Marc didn’t respond. Hurt or not, there were other hard truths to be tackled today.
Sensing a weakness, the teenager pushed harder. “Not even my mom anymore, you know? She wants to be an Eagle.”
It was another searching blow that Marc didn’t react to, and the teenager glared in frustration. “What the fuck do you want?”
Marc grinned. The boy woke up fighting, like his mother. “Peace on earth, immortality; the usual things.”
Charlie was unwilling to snort at the unexpected joke. “Funny.”
He pushed himself onto his feet, swaying. Pale, he moved for the flap.
“Come right back.”
Charlie didn’t answer and Marc’s voice followed him out into the chilly fog.