by Angela White
Both men instantly responded, going to linger near the flap.
Angela’s grin quickly became a grimace as John dumped alcohol over the heavily bleeding gash and began wiping at it.
“You all right, Lass?” Doug’s big form appeared in the flap, face bandaged, and she held still, flashing a too-bright smile instead of moving.
“Just a bit dizzy, is all.”
“You get that a lot here.” The big man grinned wryly before ducking out.
“Ready?” Angela did nod this time and the hardened men by the doorway both winced at a fresh gush of blood.
“Don’t do that!” John snapped, wishing Anne were here instead of babysitting.
“Sorry.” Angela smiled at him through the stinging and throbbing.
The upset doctor blew out a sigh. “Hold still now, sweetheart, okay?”
“Yes.”
John picked up the needle and Marc snarled, “Aren’t you going to numb it?”
“No.” Angela’s voice was like stone. “I’m losing a lot of blood. Let him get it closed.”
That had the worry replacing the anger and Marc forced himself to memorize the needle moving through her bloody flesh. This was what she was in for as an Eagle and he knew without asking that this wouldn’t be enough to get her to quit. He would have to be able to take her being hurt, repeatedly.
Angela blocked his thoughts after she picked that up. When her stomach lurched, she tried not to let it show.
“Angela?” Adrian’s voice was full of the need for answers.
“He felt it coming and went to higher ground to see through the fog. That’s what you tell them.”
Adrian ignored Marc’s warning glare, thinking her being accepted as an Eagle wasn’t just ruffling Kenn’s feathers anymore. Brady was about to start fighting it for real. “Now, the truth.”
“He did it for you.”
“To get back in?”
“He was rolling through the motions, getting set, when he spotted…Dean slipping in and made the right choice.”
“And, if there hadn’t been an attack?”
“He would have taken his own life rather than destroy your dreams. I was only in real danger from him before your call.”
She felt Adrian’s relief and kept her knowledge to herself. Kenn had weighed killing both her and Dean with a single shot and claiming accident. The only thing that had stopped him was the certainty that Adrian would never forgive him, but Kenn had made sure she would have something to remember from it.
“You should get out of here. It looks funny.” Angela’s words had one man grinning and the other tensing.
Eager to have the camp normal again, Adrian ducked out, leaving Marc to stare at her remorsefully.
“I’m sorry. So much, I can’t even say.”
Angela tried to smile, closing her lids as John started on the fifth neat stitch. “You were my shadow?”
Marc’s anger was fading into heavy guilt. “Never saw him.”
Angela didn’t react to the needle now sewing part of her shoulder together; grateful she had a high tolerance for pain. If Kenny hadn’t helped her build it up, Marc would be in torment right now at her misery. I hurt!
“He used the fog, knew there was no way we could detect him on the ground.”
“Adrian will have someone up high from now on.”
“Yeah.” Angela felt the needle strike the bone as John tried to get it all in place and her stomach twisted at the bright red flash. She needed to get these comforting sessions over with so she could have a personal moment.
“Will you send in the boy? He’s worried long enough.”
With a last miserable glance, Marc ducked out of the tent, not responding to any of the questions from the dozen or so men waiting.
He gestured at Charlie. “Keep your mom company while I help the Eagles.”
Charlie entered the tent gratefully and slid into the chair by her leg after only a fast glance at the bloody wound.
“You’re okay?”
“I’m all doped up. Better than okay.” She hoped the doctor wouldn’t give her away and felt his understanding. The boy was already feeling like his father, thinking he shouldn’t have left her alone even to go get Adrian.
“Gonna have a great scar to show off,” she boasted confidently, fingernails digging into her palms when the sharp needle sunk into her flesh for the seventh time. “Could use a different shirt, I guess. And for someone to tell the next group of mourners that I’ll be ready in about five minutes.”
Grinning and eager to help, the boy was gone in a flash and Angela let out a sigh of relief, sucking in the cool air that rushed through.
Charlie came from the medical tent to find Kyle and his Eagles standing nearby, waiting. “She’s ready for the next group in five. I guess that’s you.”
The easy tone had them relaxing a bit, but the tension returned five minutes later when they trooped inside to catch her grimace as John helped her remove the ripped shirt. All of the men spun around while the doctor helped her put on a clean white tank top from his personal drawer.
“It’s okay.” John swept her wild, tacky hair into a bun and then wiped the drying blood from her pale skin as Kyle’s team gathered around.
“You gonna be okay?”
Angela nodded and had to control her reaction again as the tent spun. “Left arm’s hit, I’m all good here.”
Men made jokes that were right, but their expressions said they were deeply upset and needed some way to feel better about how it had all played out.
Giving her a break, John retreated and studied in fascination as her breathing slowed and the static electricity in the tent tripled. When her lids opened, he flinched at the red orbs.
“There are survivors, fuel tankers, and a working radio station in Omaha…medical supplies in Cottonwood…survivors in Martin…”
The list went on for a long minute while John wondered if even Adrian knew what all she might be capable of. John’s thoughts were often consumed by his illness (confirmed stomach cancer that would kill him in the next months) and for that second, there was hope for him. There were stories flying around that she was different. They were clearly true.
When the Eagles left, each promising to stop by later, Angela gave John a sigh. “Finish it now?”
Knowing how much misery she was in had him nodding. After he was done stitching her up, he would find a way to slip something into her system for the pain.
After Kyle’s team, there was still a line of people waiting to be reassured. When she trembled under his fingers, John moved to the flap, glad they were finally done. He didn’t like helping mar that pretty skin with stitches.
“Come back after lunch!” He snapped the flap shut angrily on the protests. “I’m going to the mess. You need anything?”
Angela smiled, feeling the clammy bumps and chills of nausea. “That depends on how long I’m in for, sheriff,” she joked.
The doctor melted. “I won’t chain you either. Give your system time to heal, that’s all.”
“Thank you. For everything.” As soon as he left her alone, Angela reached for the basin.
4
The camp wasn’t doing well. No one knew of Angela’s past with the brothers and now that there had been a few hours to consider what the attack meant, there was unrest. Were they all so unsafe that anyone might sneak in and slit their throats? It was a feeling more than a few people wore.
Adrian hated it, worried about losing them, but he also understood they had to wake up before they could become stronger. Would this be enough to get more of them into his army, where they belonged? Only time would tell. For right now, something had to settle everyone down and make them feel safe again.
Under the influence of the painkillers John had forced on her, Angela still could hear the silent chaos of Safe Haven. It buzzed unpleasantly around Kenn’s newly inflated laughter and the Eagles’ disbelieving shock.
The camp was Adrian’s chore (and she would have
helped there anyway), but Kenn was her chain. When she regained her strength, she would handle it one final time and be done with the new games he was now hesitantly planning. They didn’t have time for it. When the brother didn’t report, the slavers would come in force and wipe them out. They’d had a tank last time. What would they ambush these people with next?
Poison came to mind and the doctor inside flinched. In these conditions, there would be nothing that she or John could do.
During her hours of extra stitches, pain, and rest, Angela’s mind went over everything that had happened. As she drifted, she hesitantly found that room inside her heart that was hidden deep behind doors covered with webs. She’d only been to this place a few times in her life and she opened the gates with a reminder not to get lost in the past.
Inside the miserable crypt were half a dozen small boxes and she swept each fleetingly; her childhood, Marc’s betrayal, losing her infant. This was where she had placed all those things that were so horrific she had to get away from them or be consumed by the grief.
Angela took an empty container from the endless stack on the shelf, mentally cringing at so many waiting to be filled. She pulled the day’s horrors together; Charlie’s screams, Dean’s evil touch, the pretending to be fine when she needed to cry…and shoved them deep inside. A fast flip had the lid sealed and she slid it next to the box marked Aftermath. There were seven crippling horrors in here now. How many boxes would she fill as an Eagle?
Too many to ever go back, the Witch warned.
“Good,” Angela responded harshly. “I’d stack them ten feet high to help these people, my people, survive!”
Snapping awake, Angela carefully stood up and staggered to the flap. She could feel the unrest growing, and was shocked to find so many camp members gathered outside the tent to wait for word. She’d found a home with all of these shattered, hopeful refugees and they would stand together. She would help Adrian with all she had, and that included her life. They were hers!
In that moment, she understood how to ease them and she didn’t hesitate to share her story this time. Using a careful pace, with a wolf at her heels, Angela let them in on the personal hatred the brothers had held, and smothered the witch when she told them that she finally felt safe now.
A short time later, the explanation was spreading across Safe Haven, leaving calming notes and allowing that golden light to once again drown out the crimson.
5
“I can’t make it. Again.”
Samantha peered up from the cup of coffee she’d lifted from the mess, hands still dusty brown from working in the garden all day. “More quake trouble?”
Neil shook his head, trying not to peer down the front of her gaping sweater. “I have to make a run. I’ll be back tonight, but it’ll be too late.”
“Checking for more problems?”
“Yeah. Me and Brady are gonna go have a look around.”
Very glad Angie was okay, Samantha shrugged, smiling. “We’ll do it another time. Be careful.”
“Thanks.” For an instant, Neil thought about asking her if she wanted to come along and turned away instead. What was wrong with him?
“Will you tell him there might be a…storm? A lot of dirty rain.”
“Yes.”
Neil didn’t ask any of the questions he wanted to as he traveled to the parking area. He had already suspected Samantha was special from the way Adrian had her hidden whenever she weather-watched and he wondered curiously about her gifts. How much like Angie was she?
Adrian was silently screaming at the men who had been on duty and they felt every word he didn’t speak. Someone had gotten through the wire. They had failed.
The leader stared at his men for a long time, choosing, reordering, and yet his mind said she wouldn’t like it, to go easy on them. If Marc hadn’t noticed Dean during the chaos, how could he expect these months-long fighters to?
With nothing to say, Adrian didn’t offer comfort or threats. Instead, he didn’t talk to them at all. He went to the medical tent while the camp was settling for evening mess, hoping she would be alone.
Adrian paused outside the flap, listening. Was she really okay?
Come in and see for yourself, the Witch invited, always quick to make him welcome.
He ducked inside to discover Angela reclined in a chair, smoking a joint. Her lids were shut, dark lashes on pale skin and she didn’t open them.
“I’m better now. Going to either make him pay or thank him later,” she muttered, exhaling. “John slipped a few happy drops into the last of my water bottle. He knew I’d guzzle it and notice the taste too late.”
He had done it while she was distracted by her son’s last quick visit and Angela wasn’t sure if she was glad or mad.
“Good.” Adrian moved closer to view the red and white bandage covering her shoulder. “How bad is it?”
She was covered in a heated blanket. Adrian had no idea how John had managed to do that, but didn’t get snagged on it.
Angela winced at another dizzying lance of pain. “It’s fine until I do that.”
Adrian grinned tightly, playing along. “Then don’t do that.”
Angela still didn’t open her eyes. She’d heard about Marc leaving on a recon and wasn’t surprised to feel relieved. He would be distracted by Neil and she would have a little time to finish sorting things out. Like Adrian knew when he sent Marc with the trooper, she realized.
“Anyone ever tell these people that they are lucky you chose them?”
“It doesn’t feel that way, watching blood run down your arm.”
She sighed tiredly. “Yeah, that top one won’t stay closed. John will do it again when he gets back.”
Adrian scowled this time and Angela’s tone grew hard. “It could have been worse.”
“Almost was, right? You could have been stabbed and shot.”
That sent her startled gaze to his. “How do you know? I blocked that from you.”
His frown expanded. “It’s common sense. With you gone, Kenn might have been able to earn true forgiveness.”
She raised a brow. “Saving my life hasn’t?”
“No. I’m grateful and I’ll show it, but nothing can ever be the way it was.”
Angela was glad Adrian knew the truth. An honestly good man, Kenn may never be. That didn’t mean they could do without him.
“What comes next?”
“We get ready for the main group to find us again.”
There was silence again as they both considered that final battle and then he broke it, unable to keep from asking, “Where were you going when you left the hayroom?”
Angela’s thoughts were unprotected and he shared the memory with her.
She woke while Charlie dressed, listening to his worried thoughts.
The slavers are here!
Am I ready? No, but it’ll have to be enough.
As soon as Charlie was gone, she prepared herself as best she could for battle. If the evil group was nearby, she would slip out and surrender, give Adrian time to run again.
He won’t, the Witch warned. He’ll fight for you and lose every man.
Not if I can get to Cesar, bluff him down with an offer of giving him my power.
The witch didn’t answer and that was good enough for her. She had to get out of here before all these lives were lost because of her curse.
Angela twisted around to say she had planned to kill Cesar during the power-transfer, and found herself alone in the tent. What would he do now?
6
Worried, and determined not to let the injury interfere, Angela was on duty near the rear of the vet area before dawn. Set up on a corner post where three rotating patrols crossed, the small dirt bike they’d insisted on placing under a nearby tree made a decent seat when her shoulder began throbbing.
John’s medicine had worn off and she stretched her arm slowly, tearing up at the sting. She’d had stitches before and knew the way it worked, but that didn’t mean it was ea
sy.
Sighing in boredom and weariness, she stood up and swept the scraggly trees a full minute early. She understood now why she had never been able to get the exact routine of the sentries down. Each area had a rotating part to be covered a set number of times in an hour. It was up to the Eagle to decide when, during that 60 minutes, those patrols took place.
Satisfied things were quiet here, she entered the center of the grid around her. Stepping into the parking area, she exchanged nods with two of the three men on duty, and kept going, assuming the third sentry was on the other side of his route. That happened everywhere in camp so that more than a dozen Eagles would be crisscrossing the entire area at any given time. To make up for those hiding laziness and carelessness, the senior men and Eagle on Point had a set pattern they walked for half an hour and then they did rounds of all the guards, keeping men alert. It was complicated from the outside, but once in on the secret, it became clearer. Twenty overlapping circles that covered the entire camp, it was smart and very effective. It was also easy on staffing, as it required only two men in each area instead of four.
Angela settled against the bumper of a truck to have a smoke and give her body another quick break. She was pushing herself, but carefully this time, unlike during the trip here with Marc when she’d run his full course and passed out. She’d had to relive her baby’s death to explain it, but now she was stronger than she had ever been and not even close to quitting like some people were hoping would happen now.
Thanks to John’s care, she could still do her duty, and in the morning when she woke feeling as if she was actually dead? That was what pills were for. She wasn’t missing her training time.
Shoulder switching from stinging to throbbing, Angela shifted it to a better position, not hiding her grimace. The rest of the parking lot couldn’t see her from here, only her boots, and the shadows were dark, empty except for the two men she could feel on sniper duty over her patrol area.
“I can make that go away.”