by Angela White
Adrian wiped them from the corners of her eyes with a loving touch. “You’ve done your duty. Take this time off to enjoy what was accomplished. You’ve earned it.”
“And so has Marc,” he stated, steeling himself against the jealousy. “He’s coming around to the dream, though, he may never admit it to me. And there’s no longer an abusive Marine standing between you. This is your time.”
Angela frowned, suddenly feeling extremely sleepy. “Always hated that saying. Doesn’t make sense.”
Adrian recognized the defensive response, but didn’t comment on it. “That means your happiness comes first for a while. Think you can do that?”
“Unlikely. Someone will have to show me how.”
Adrian slammed the door between their minds before she caught his thought–I’d give almost anything to have that honor.
“Marc has it covered,” Adrian forced himself to say. “Trust him.”
“I do.” Angela drowsed in Adrian’s warm embrace, drugged and starting to heal. For the first time since being shot, she wasn’t in agony, puking, or crying. It was wonderful.
Adrian didn’t say more, instead watching as she drifted. Her strength was amazing. She would have been the perfect woman to help him lead.
That thought followed Adrian as he rested his head on his arm and tried to sleep. Fate hadn’t gifted Angela to them to be claimed. She’d been sent to protect his people and he would keep that in mind when the longing grew. Angela wasn’t meant to be his or even Marc’s. She belonged to Safe Haven and they would all protect her while she helped guide them to safety.
9
“Gunfire in the perimeter! Shots fired!”
“Shit!”
“Look out!”
Angela jerked awake, groaning, and found Adrian sitting up with his gun drawn.
She turned her head to find Marc in a set position between them and the door, and groaned again–this time in groggy frustration. “We didn’t get them all?”
Neither man bothered to answer, since it was obvious that they hadn’t.
“I need a gun!”
Adrian nudged her left hand, and her fingers curled awkwardly around the butt of her backup weapon.
Bang! Bang!
“Fall back!”
“Get her outta there!”
Crash…
“Fire!”
The noises outside the room weren’t comforting and Marc motioned to Adrian. “Let’s roll.”
Adrian swung Angela up into his arms as quick and careful as he could.
She gasped, painfully molding herself into his grip.
“Here!” Marc shoved a vest over her head as Adrian carried her toward the window.
The front of the country club was in flames and eerie shadows ran through the foggy smoke, firing at each other.
Angela tried to help as they lowered her out the window between vested Eagles. Her single left-handed shot, aimed at a Mexican sombrero, went wild and plunged into the hood of their vehicle.
Angela was quickly shoved inside the truck and the Eagles surrounded it. When the door slammed, but her driver didn’t leave, Angela realized Adrian was making a stand here. With her in the center. Angela stayed low and rode the waves of pain, knowing there was no safer place she could be.
A fresh volley of gunfire lit up the night, sharp and loud. Men screamed, and more shadows flew through the darkness, forcing their attackers into the light of the burning country club. It was another of Marc’s plans, this one done to make the enemy think there were less men. Those Eagles had been hidden around the perimeter and now, they moved in to trap the enemy in a barrel-shoot.
Behind Angela, another rig pulled up and Jeremy guided Cynthia into the vehicle, then joined his team.
It had only been one day since they had been in this situation and Jeremy was instantly reminded of the carnage at the rest stop. All those screams!
He flashed back in despair and guilty excitement.
“Kill them all!”
Adrian’s roar swung his hands into action, and Jeremy strode forward with his finger squeezing in short, flat pops that took lives.
Next to him, Frank laughed, giddy with that dangerous edge of chaos they were leading. “Some fun, huh, Jerem…”
Frank slid to his knees in shock, freezing in a grimace of disbelieving panic. Fresh blood dripped to the muddy ground as he drew in a last shuddering breath, spoke a final order.
“Kill them a...” Frank fell forward into the mud.
Self-preservation kept Jeremy’s feet moving and his hands delivering more of what his friend had felt. As he went, there wasn’t anything in his mind except blind anger and a furious determination to do as he’d been bidden–Kill them all.
Jeremy tried to shake it off and was only partially successful. It was still hard to believe that it was over, that they’d won…that he’d survived. None of his years as an MIT Grad and computer genius had prepared him for this.
His mind went to their other fallen Eagle, to Daniel. That man had once told Jeremy that he was now living the life that he had been too afraid of before the war. Now, ducked behind the truck and firing those short little pops that were so effective, Jeremy understood completely.
Content that the Eagles had Angela covered, Marc spun into the shadows, fury a hot laser.
Two Mexicans–dead–on the right. An old enemy, then, one that I’m sick of.
Marc went left.
Three more bodies there…and one up high, still alive. That’s where their new leader will be.
Marc knelt down and pulled his rifle from the sling.
“Move in!”
Adrian’s command had the rest of the outer guards freeing their trigger fingers. More gunfire filled the night.
Training mode settled over Marc’s mind. Inhale… Exhale and hold… let go. He pulled the trigger.
The guerilla jerked at the impact, breath suddenly gone in a powerful blast.
He hit the ground with a heavy thump a few seconds later.
Marc lowered the rifle and stepped forward. Now, one to the head.
Around him, the slavers were trying to flee and running into the advancing perimeter guards. Again, Adrian’s men had been more than a match, and Marc was sure the remaining camp would be the same. He had thought to go over the plan again with Kyle before that mission team left, but there obviously wasn’t any need to.
Radios crackled again.
“Rollin’ out, Boss,” Kyle called.
“No mercy.”
Kyle’s responding tone was just as hard as Adrian’s. “You know it.”
“Meet up with us at the new place when it’s done,” Adrian ordered.
“Copy.”
Vaguely listening to the radio conversation, Marc stayed in the shadows as he moved closer to the body. He saw the blood, the open, glazing pupils set deep into weathered skin.
“Brady!”
Instantly distracted, Marc keyed the mike before she could become upset. “5-by and close, honey.”
“Now, please?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Bang!
A minute later, Marc joined Angela inside the cool vehicle, and noted how she instantly warmed when he took her hand.
Marc lowered his lids, not wanting her to read his determination. He remembered so many of the things she needed, liked, and he intended to use them. Angie would want to be with him as much as she wanted to be an Eagle, and it would always be him, no one else, that she craved. There were ways...
“Should we pick a new place?” Zack asked, worried by the newest attack.
“No. Too much traveling,” Marc denied, getting set to cushion Angela from the bumps.
Settling into his strong arms, Angela met Adrian’s gaze through the lowered window. “The camp calls for you–for us.”
“I know,” Adrian replied, face expressionless.
“Something’s about to happen,” she warned.
Adrian gritted his teeth against the twinge in his
chest. “I’m going.”
Angela closed her eyes in relief and huddled against Marc’s strength. “Drive now, Zachary. He won’t leave until he knows you guys have me tucked away.”
It was an order that the former trucker immediately obeyed.
Adrian watched until they were out of sight, hating it that they were split up, but confident in Kyle and Marc. They would both get their jobs done.
“We have a survivor!” Seth shouted from the room where they had kept Angela. He had stopped Zack from executing the bleeding man. The threat should have been over, but all the bodies around them were slavers and Seth was sure Adrian wanted answers.
Adrian came quickly, glad to see the man’s injury was grave. He didn’t think the guerilla would know there were only minutes left, though, and gestured toward John. “Our doctor will help you, but I have questions, first.”
The man nodded painfully. “Si.”
“What were you trying to do here?”
“Kill your leader,” the man gasped out, not realizing who he was talking to. “Please, it hurts!”
Adrian frowned, numb to the enemy’s panic after what he’d been forced to put Angela through. “Cesar is dead. Who gave you that order?”
The Mexican stared at John’s scowling face in longing, starting to understand that no help would be given.
“Richard, before he left.”
Rick.
Stunned, Adrian grabbed the man’s tacky shirt, jerking him up as the Eagles shouted and cursed. “Where did he go?”
The Mexican laughed and groaned through bloody teeth, feeling the shadow of death turn his way. The cold chill was terrifying, and he lashed out in hateful defiance.
“Safe Haven–to get his woman back!”
A single shot silenced the pain-laced laughter, but it didn’t erase the mocking grin from the slaver’s face. It said Adrian had made a grave mistake. He hadn’t accounted for Rick.
Adrian waved an abrupt arm. “Get us rolling–now!”
Chapter Three
Welcome Back
May 16th
Just after Midnight
1
Help!
Through the gags, the scream was too muffled to be heard.
Samantha roughly bounced against her kidnapper’s shoulder, kicking and slamming her hands against his legs. He didn’t stop or slow.
She’d been grabbed from behind as she stepped from the camper, and the blows had come hard and quick. There hadn’t been time to yell.
Sam screamed against the gag again, wriggling furiously, but got no response–not even a tightening of the grip he had around her waist. Left with nothing else, Sam curled her nails into the man’s skin and tried to slice him open.
She hit the ground a second later with a muffled thud that took her breath and left no time to avoid the dirty fist he swung.
Dazed, Samantha sprawled awkwardly at the man’s filthy boots, looking up into a face that she’d hoped to never see again.
“Miss me?”
Sam shook her buzzing head, filled with fear.
“That’s okay.” Rick chuckled, drawing back. “‘Cause I did you!”
The second hit was harder than the first, and Samantha slumped to the dirt.
Deep in the cover of the trees around the crowded parking area, Rick dragged her by the arm and hair, grinning in cold satisfaction. Once again dressed as an Eagle, it had been no trouble getting to her.
Rick pulled the mask over his face and hefted Samantha into the passenger side of the truck, adjusting her to look like she was sleeping. He casually closed her door and moved to the driver’s side, subtly taking stock of the chaos around them. Word had come from the lookouts that the remaining Mexicans were gearing up to attack. It looked to be a dawn ambush, and Kenn had ordered a bug-out half an hour ago. Now, the herd was panicking.
Rick grinned, pulling into the shortest line of vehicles being sent out. They were gassing them, but not checking the passenger lists, and Rick felt it was the best place to be. A single truck leaving in the opposite direction would be noticed, but blending into the migrating herd was genius.
Rick spotted Becky lingering near the parking area. Staying out of the way, the teenager looked lost, abandoned.
You won’t be alone long, little girl. Neil still wants you, Rick thought...and immediately changed directions. He couldn’t leave Neil anything except his life, and in the end, even that might be too much.
2
“Kenn to the QZ,” the radio crackled.
“Copy.” Ignoring the steady drizzle, Kenn changed directions. A QZ call usually meant someone had come in, and now was a bad time for new arrivals. Both of Safe Haven’s doctors were out.
The waiting sheep were still sequestered in the mess, tightly surrounded by circles of both stationary and roaming Eagles, but it was clear that they were about to stampede. He had to move them now or lose them.
Kenn ducked under the swaying caution tape to see John and Adrian climbing from a mud-splattered van–Jeff and Seth also, and Cynthia, who Kenn was surprised to see with them. He’d thought this might be the time the reporter was ‘accidentally’ caught in the crossfire.
“Look out!”
Kenn jumped back as a wagon of women sped by, just missing clipping him with the mirror. He was sending people out in groups of five, hoping they’d stay together, but the odds of it were low.
John stalked by, looking like he hadn’t slept the entire time he’d been gone.
“She’ll live.”
The doctor’s curt words were thrown in anger as he headed for the other side of the QZ parking area and Kenn filed them away as proof that things had been as rough as he’d imagined.
Kenn was surprised again, though, when the haggard man climbed into the passenger seat of the ambulance and shut the door. Wasn’t he going to find Anne or check on his patients? John did a lot of behind-the-scenes work. The doctor even had a weekly meeting with Adrian. About what, Kenn didn’t know, and that told him John was part of the chain of command, though no one else appeared to know it yet. So why was he–
Bang! Bang!
The wind-muffled gunshots came from the slavers’ camp. The lack of word from Cesar certainly wasn’t causing them concern.
Seth gave Kenn a cool nod, and then searched for the nearest ranking guard. He was aware of his slight limp, legs like lead. The long ride had stiffened his muscles.
When Jeff came to his side, Kenn’s first thought was to ask how bad Angela was hurt, what had happened, and who was taking the heat for it. He swallowed the questions after surveying Jeff’s exhausted walk and hostile expression.
“Boss says to keep them moving.” Jeff’s tone said he was angry, to take care.
Seeing Adrian motion Mitch to get the radio going–to tell them he was here now–Kenn only wondered vaguely who his ally was aiming at. “Good. We sent over a truck of drugged food, but that was yesterday afternoon. Scouts say they’re arming for a fight.”
“Tired of waiting for Cesar to return,” Adrian guessed, joining them.
“Will he?” Kenn asked.
“No.”
“No.”
Crashhhh!
In the near distance, the sound of a building collapsing echoed louder than the slaver camp. It was another sign of post-war decline, happening all across the country–maybe even the world. No one knew if other countries were in the same shape, but Kenn thought some of them might be at least a little better off. While the West had been living lives of ease and convenience, other nations had been suffering and by necessity, would have been better able to handle such a crisis.
Jeff concealed the hell he’d just been through, as well as what was yet to come. He raised his voice against the howling wind. “How can I help?”
The three men fell into a quick conversation as the rain began to fall harder.
Cynthia stayed on Adrian’s heels, hand near her gun.
She was clearly guarding him and it was noticed, but not commen
ted on. There was no time to waste on mysteries right now.
3
“Where’s Samantha?”
“There, in the next line to go,” the rookie answered.
Seth headed that way, eager to have her safety confirmed and off his list of things to do. Around him, the camp was now openly fleeing, no longer worried about alerting the slavers. Kyle and his team were between the two camps, getting set, and Adrian wasn’t going to hold them back.
“She’s been out for about ten minutes,” Kevin stated, still upset with Tucker for leaving her alone while she showered. Kevin had been glad to find her here after chewing on the man. “She hasn’t slept much since you guys took off.”
Seth stopped, not wanting to wake her if she was really able to sleep through this din. People shouted, doors slammed, and cars spun out the second they were gassed, vanishing into the night to hopefully catch up with the lead semi that was being driven by Doug.
“I heard there are men down?”
Seth didn’t answer Kevin’s question, instead waving toward the truck Samantha was in. “Where did that one come from? I thought we didn’t find any more red on the last vehicle recon.”
Kevin shrugged. “Not sure. I saw an Eagle park it there, though, so it must run.”
Seth moved toward Adrian, and his next item to do. “Stay with Samantha–even during the bug-out. Neil’s orders–and let her know they’re both okay.”
Kevin nodded, heading toward the truck as a blue large van fled into the night. “You know it.”
Eagles were all over the area, most of them toting things or helping people into their assigned rides. One of these carried a heavy-looking duffle bag that he slung into the back of the truck Samantha was in.
Kevin’s eyes narrowed when her head lolled roughly against the window, but she didn’t react or re-adjust herself. How could she sleep so deeply?
Kevin started to knock on the window.
“Hey!” The Eagle who had put the bag into the back waved a hand. “He wants you.”
Kevin turned to see Kenn motioning him over, and gestured for the man to take his place. “Stay close to her. She’s special.”