by Angela White
“Is your fear gone?” Adrian asked, five minutes later.
Angela considered, shook her head in a violent spray of blood and sweat. Usually, these stains and pains belonged to the men of Safe Haven and she relished the feel of them while they were there. He hadn’t told her what to do after their private lesson, but she already knew the camp wasn’t ready to see her this way.
“Not completely. I still kept waiting for you to really hit me.”
“What I did was too much. It makes my heart hurt.”
“And mine, as well,” she agreed sympathetically.
Angela leaned in, so much that Adrian and those guarding thought she might hug him. Instead, she exhaled hundreds of brightly colored atoms that swirled softly in the air around them.
“Breathe them in.”
Adrian did it without hesitation, mouths almost close enough to touch if either of them were hit by a gust of wind, and he felt the magic instantly heal their injuries.
Hunger flashed up between them, sharp and dangerous.
A minute later, the tiny colored orbs began vanishing.
“The Eagles are debating turning around and pretending they didn’t see anything, now that they think we're done.”
Her eyes flashed with amusement that he thought was a bit forced. She’d felt it this time, the future waiting for them. Adrian chuckled with her, but doubted Marc felt that way. “You did good, sorted through some of it.”
Refusing to let Marc’s chaotic thoughts distract her, Angela smoothed her hair down, adjusted her clothes. “Sometimes I can't believe I didn't kill him.”
When Adrian spoke, she had no doubt it was the truth.
“I'll give it to you if it will help heal the damage he’s done.”
“It means a great deal to me that you would, but I don't want him dead anymore.” She was unable to deny the attraction flying between them. “Not after all you've done for me and my son. That would hurt your dreams and I'd never do that.”
“Our dreams.”
He was putting her in a position of power, teaching her how to lead them, and she allowed her gratitude to show. “I owe you a debt.”
He used the moment to confront something he was uncertain about. “It’s nothing compared to what I owe you for not telling them who I was.”
Angela’s voice lowered, even though they were out of earshot. “When these people find out, you'll lose everything.”
“I know,” he admitted miserably. “And I deserve whatever they give me, but until then, I'll rebuild and teach them what the old world had forgotten.”
Angela ignored the voice wanting to know exactly where she fit into those plans. “You're doing great with them, especially the women.”
Adrian concentrated, sending her his vision, and Angela was still a bit amazed to have this kind of connection with both him and Marc.
“Like the Amazons.” She picked up his mental image of an army of warrior women, with her, in full glory, leading them.
“Yes, in a place where the women are as dangerous as the men, America’s survival will never be in doubt.”
“Big dreams,” she commented, already busy searching. She felt the question coming and wanted to know the same thing.
“Is it possible? Can we do that?”
He waited impatiently while she searched the future and felt his heart leap when she nodded.
“Yes, it is. With the right pioneers, almost anything still is.”
11
Neil spotted the shadow moving his way through the empty trees around them, and grimaced. I thought we settled this.
He was on duty in the rear of camp and Becky had no business here. Using the skills he’d honed during his time in Safe Haven, Neil ducked out of view and circled around, never losing sight of the darkly dressed female. He grabbed her arm as his other hand covered her mouth to stifle the expected yell.
“What the hell are you doing, Becky? I already told you not to track me anymore!”
She shook her head, mumbling against his hand, and Neil gently shoved her away. “I can’t give in to you, so stop it now!”
Samantha was shocked by her jealousy and she didn’t turn around, chest hurting from how much she wanted him.
Neil heard her sound and immediately felt guilty for all the times he’d led Becky on. “Wait.”
She kept moving and Neil caught her around the waist.
He pulled her into his arms.
“I’m sorry, Becky,” he whispered as she struggled. “Please don’t cry.”
Before Samantha could tell him she was trying not to hit him, he spun her around and kissed her, hard. Samantha responded as if she was drowning and he was the only way to breathe.
Neil let her deepen the kiss against his better judgment, unable to resist as her sweet tongue slid along his lip, begging entrance. Hot fire flooded him as their tongues touched and he held her by the hip and neck, lost.
He felt the hunger, the passion of a grown woman simmering and his heart responded even as his mind registered her height, her smell; the feel of her body melted over his like it had always been there. This hot-blooded seductress wasn’t his virginal Becky.
Neil slowly broke the kiss, hand reluctantly letting go of the firm cheek it was gripping.
His lids flew open at her mewling noise of protest. He knew that voice!
“Samantha?”
“Neil.” She was winded. “I’m here to give you relief.”
The muscle in his jaw twitched and her cheeks went pink. “I mean, I’m your relief!”
Neil remembered to breathe, very aware that he wasn’t worried about who might have witnessed, only her reaction. And that he was incredibly hard. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a case of mistaken identity. No big deal.”
“You aren’t mad?”
“Mad? No. Turned on? Hell, yes.”
Sam veered around him to take up her post in the darkness and Neil entered camp in a daze. How was he supposed to sleep after that?
12
“This is Safe Haven. We are an American refugee camp offering food, protection and medical care. Is anyone listening?”
Rick hit the button on the timer and took another long swig of his beer, knowing it would be almost three full minutes before the radioman stopped broadcasting and rechecked the channels for messages. It was an easy rhythm to predict and he thought he had it down, was about to test his theory.
He picked up the short mike, remembering the tan sentry asking him why he wanted the portable CB. He’d said to listen, like everyone else, but knew Kyle hadn’t believed him. He’d had the radio for two weeks now, not daring to make any calls until Adrian lifted the radio silence. Was it okay now that they were broadcasting again?
“Only one way to find out,” he muttered, putting the distorter over the mike and keying the button.
“I’ve got one minute. Instructions?”
There was almost thirty seconds of silence, but Rick waited patiently, positive someone would take the radio to Cesar.
When the answer finally came, it was short.
“Orders are confirmed. Take him out.”
Rick clicked the mike once, and then yanked the cord from his set and quickly unscrewed the box, pulling it apart. He dumped the last drops of his soda inside, shook it off and put it on the set with his tools. Anyone who came snooping while he was out of camp tomorrow would discover a system impossible of communication and dismiss him from their thoughts.
The distorter, he shoved into the hole already waiting under the corner of his sleeping bag and patted it down until he was satisfied that the square he had cut in the bottom of the tent wasn’t showing. He was careful when he broke the canvas down and put it up, sure the Eagles would notice the slits if he wasn’t. It was the only clue to what he was doing, but it was a big one.
Rick stuffed thick gloves and a large burlap sack into his kit. While they were gathering supplies in the next town, he had a store to visit. Not all of the caged animals w
ould be dead and those few that had survived would be hungry.
Chapter Fourteen
Twice Taken
Pitcairn Island
1
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The pounding was obnoxiously loud and intimidating.
“Open up!”
“We know you’re in there!”
Kendle jerked awake to find Luke standing near the cabin door with a gun in his hand. Where had that come from? She hadn’t noticed a single gun the whole time she’d–
“Luke Johnson! This is Sheriff Cole. You hearin’ me?”
Luke scowled, but didn’t answer. There were ten men out there, more than enough to rush him. Whatever had happened overnight, they’d come heavy and that meant someone was expected to leave with them.
“Last chance, and then we’re coming in!”
Kendle was dressing behind him and Luke asked worriedly, “Can you get to the hole-up on your own?”
“Yes.” They’d made enough trips in the tunnels for her to mostly know her way around.
“Go now, the rear window. Stay there until someone comes for you.”
Luke clicked the lock off the door, causing silence to fall among the muttering men outside.
“You’ll be on your own and they’ll know that.” He set the gun on the shelf by the door. “Take that, too.”
Kendle dressed faster and Luke rotated the knob slowly, buying her time to slip on shoes.
“What do they want?”
He let the door swing open, waving at her to stay quiet. “Me, out of their way.”
Kendle peered out the door and instantly felt dread sweep into her chest. The Sheriff and his friends were armed and there was a pair of gloating green orbs behind them that made her knees go weak. Whatever this was, Ethan was responsible.
She backed out of their view.
“Luke Johnson, you’re under arrest for–”
“Some trumped up charge so he can get my woman alone.” Luke threw an angry hand at the Kraft heir, not expecting his words to help, only buy her time to run. “You plan to take her in, too?”
The Sheriff moved his way, but stopped abruptly when Luke came down the stairs.
“No.”
Luke held out his hands. “Didn’t think so. Guess that Kraft money still works all right.”
“Coming from a murderer, that means nothing to me,” Cole sneered, finally letting his loathing of the pilot show. “And she made her choice.”
Realizing they were all in on whatever was happening, Luke snapped his mouth shut and prepared himself for their custody. He had a feeling there were a few things they would want to get straight with him.
The others crowded around as the Sheriff put Luke in cuffs; all but Ethan, who kept his attention on the cabin. As soon as they were in the jungle, he would return.
“Are you going to read him his rights?” the deputy asked slowly, not certain of the outcast’s guilt. He had clues that didn’t add up, but he knew better than to question the Mayor’s orders.
“He ain’t got none,” one of the other men stated.
Higgins dropped his head to keep the rest of the infected men from realizing how against this he was. He had been deputy for almost a year now and anticipated replacing Sheriff Cole. If he were careful, he’d still be alive when these evil fucks were part of the town landfill. For now, though, he had to shut up and play along, and he gave Luke a hard shove. “Get on the bike.”
It was a quiet pickup with little delay, but Kendle had done well in the time Luke bought for her. Before they were out of sight, she was lowering herself into the dark tunnel and pulling the grassy cover over the hole. She didn’t care much for being underground, but it was dry and she had more important things to worry about. Like how she was going to rescue Luke.
Thud!
Luke winced at the blow, not moving fast enough for Ethan, who was clearly impatient. Blood dripped down Luke’s chin.
“Get on it!”
Luke swung his leg over the bike, settling in behind the deputy and Ethan warned as he mounted his own, “Don’t forget what my father said.”
The Sheriff glared rebelliously. “And don’t forget what I told him. That’s taking things too far.”
Ethan brought his ride to life. “Personally, I don’t get the point. It’s like an extra layer of icing, but daddy wants it, so…”
The cop still hesitated and the other men muttered lowly. Disobeying the Mayor now was not a good idea.
Ethan’s anger flashed out dangerously. “Should I do it myself?”
Sure that would be worse than not doing it at all, the Sheriff refused. “I’ll handle it. Now get the hell out of here. Go…fill up.”
Ethan’s orbs flashed again, this time with a vivid glow that had Luke staring in recognition. Kendle was right. They were all sick.
“Drive slow.”
The playboy was out of sight seconds later and Luke swiveled to glare at the Sheriff in outrage. “You serve the devil!”
To his credit, the Sheriff flushed. “Yes, but not alone.”
The thickly built man advanced toward Luke with resigned, set steps and Luke braced for the blows he had expected earlier.
Instead of swinging, the man pulled his pocketknife and took careful aim. “Be still and I‘ll make it quick. Fight and they’ll see how she scratched you all over to get away.”
Luke steeled himself as the knife neared his skin, but he swore there would be payment for it.
2
Kendle heard the single bike above her and felt panic threaten to freeze her in place. Would Ethan know about the hatch behind the water tank? Not wanting to take the chance, she stumbled forward with only the candle she’d been able to find, and the gun clutched tightly in her grip. She knew very well who was stalking her and terror was her companion below the ground.
Ethan stormed up the stairs to the cabin with a tight body and a light heart. Luke was in custody and would be hanged for three murders he didn’t commit. The other girls were being shipped out tonight, sent to Africa along with Jenna and Cole, who would find that part out later. His father would be satisfied, the town would settle down, and he would have Kendle. Luke’s fourth, undiscovered victim was in a shallow grave near his cabin and it would also be pawned off on the pilot if it were ever discovered. Things were going well.
Not bothering with manners, Ethan raised his foot and kicked the door open. He couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into that pink skin.
“Honey, I’m home!”
His cheery voice echoed in the empty cabin in a way that told him instantly she wasn’t here and his sickly face lit up with anticipation.
A treasure hunt on a pirate island. Oh, Goodie!
Where would she go? Jenna’s? The hole-up? His quick mind flashed to spying on her and Luke as they tracked the tree maps. The couple didn’t understand they were following opposite-codes on the trees and had gotten nowhere over the last five days. The Mayor hadn’t liked it that they were getting their clues at all, though, and had ordered Luke’s arrest last night. And she’d been here; he’d enjoyed her fear when Luke opened the door. She would do what he had told her to, and what would Luke choose?
Ethan’s anticipation grew. He had only gotten to trace a couple of the tunnels while the pair slept, but one of the shored paths had led uphill, probably toward the hole-up. Another had led toward town, and a third, toward the beach. There was no reason for her to go toward the shore or town, and wouldn’t Luke have told her to go hide and wait?
Ethan’s joy was ugly. He would use the bike to get ahead of her.
His stomach tightened as he jogged down the stairs. They would be alone in the dark together. Did it get any better than that?
3
Kendle was struggling to remember everything Luke had told her about the tunnels. He’d wanted her to go to the hole-up and she would, but first, she had to make a stop in town.
“Go right at the root that’s shaped like a woman.” Luke sniggered at hi
mself. “Her name’s Mable.”
It was a quick flash that brought tears she refused to let fall. They would take him to one of the two cells she’d seen when they reported Mora’s body on the beach… Kendle stepped over a huge root, ducking the large corner-web. Why had Mora been there? No one on this island liked the water much. Kendle had never viewed people near it. And that was a clue, wasn’t it? Because if there were no witnesses, then a person would be free to do whatever they wanted, good or bad.
Wishing for her sweater to fight the chill of being underground, Kendle moved faster, shielding the thin candle flame with her hand. There had been a lot of blood, but no tracks. Mora hadn’t been dumped, but killed there. Maybe whatever was happening was connected to the ocean.
Kendle swallowed a groan at the thought of going near that salty nightmare alone.
“But I will,” she vowed lowly. “Whatever it takes to figure this out.”
Kendle flinched at the sudden shadow in her path and then realized it was her sign.
“Hey, Mable,” she croaked cheerfully.
At this distance, she could make out the sound of a dirt bike moving. Good, Ethan would be searching the jungle for her, Sheriff Cole would have Luke safely in a town cell, and once there, she would help him escape. Then they would go together to the beach and find out what was going on.
4
Luke didn’t wipe the blood away, letting it dry there instead for the townspeople to view. The shallow grooves would appear to be nail marks and add another layer of guilt to his charges. By viewing it now, when it was fresh, he might have a chance at a reasonable doubt with a jury if they intended to give him a trial. Which he doubted.