by Angela White
Charlie did. Being taught by his mom while she also worked with the female rookies was great. He was learning all sorts of things about women.
“It’s like that. If you got to go straight there before you did any work, it wouldn’t mean as much to you, wouldn’t give as much pleasure.”
“I’m glad you came now. I’ve never seen mom this happy. Thank you for making her stronger, and…for loving her,” Charlie answered.
Marc’s heart melted, and he swung an arm around his son’s shoulders. “Love you, too, boy. Just as much.”
Charlie leaned against him, hugging back. He didn’t say the same, but he felt it, and that was enough. Matt was right to envy him a little. He had a great life now.
The two males moved toward the tent area in peace, both sending out those good vibes that made most people want to be closer to them. It also made some people long to be them.
3
“When are you gonna sign up?”
“I d-don’t know.”
“I’m tellin’ you, boy. That’s the only place you need. Become an Eagle and we’re set here.”
Matt didn’t answer, too busy worrying over the fragile sheet of paper in his father’s clumsy hands.
“What the hell is this?”
“Just s-something I drew,” Matt muttered. He’d been sketching happily until Mitch grabbed the book.
“Haven’t I told you not to waste your time on this garbage?”
“Yes.”
Mitch glared with bloodshot eyes. “Then quit doing it!”
The radioman crumpled up the drawing and tossed it out of the com truck window.
“That w-was mine!” Matt got out and slammed the truck door, drawing attention from the guards over the area. “Why can’t you l-leave me alone? You and Adrian have tak-taken everything else!”
Mitch got out of the truck, stumbling after his son. “Don’t talks to me that way!”
“You’re d-drunk on duty again, after he t-told you no more!” Matt sneered. “You need to be guarded too.”
“I’m a grown man.” Mitch glowered, holding onto the door for support. “I’ve earned the right.”
The pimply teenager bent down and grabbed his paper before the wind could blow it away. He shoved it into his pocket and scowled at his father.
“I only came around b-b-because Charlie thought it was a good idea. Now, all I can think about is t-taking your bottle when you pass out!” The teenager stomped around Mitch. “And that means I shouldn’t be here.”
Too drunk for parenting, Mitch staggered back to the com truck. He’d been drowning his sorrows for most of the day, and he was beat. He climbed into the truck, squinting at shadowy shapes in the distance. Was that the vet, alone in the dark, carrying a body over his shoulder?
Mitch snickered at his crazy thoughts. Damn good Wild Turkey. He’d have to hit the next bottle a little slower next time, though, and make it last. He shouldn’t be seeing things already. That usually came at the finish of the nightly bottle, not midway through.
Cynthia was having trouble sleeping. It happened so often since the rest stop that she’d developed the habit of finding something useful to do during those hours. Tonight, she’d been close enough to overhear Mitch and Matt.
Off-duty and restless, Cynthia trailed after the teenager, but sent a quick hand signal to Kyle as they went by his post. Mitch is drunk.
I got it, Kyle answered with curt gestures, stomping toward the com truck.
Cynthia didn’t envy Mitch the chewing out he now had on the way. Kyle hated to be apart from Jennifer, and these shifts on third were hard on him. They gave the mobster a stiff, no-nonsense attitude that Safe Haven’s radioman was about to be beaten with.
“He’s too far gone for thinking or regret,” Matt stated.
Matt sounded much too bitter for only being fourteen, and Cynthia studied him as they walked. Matt was a good kid but for the drinking. “Adrian will handle it.”
“Tell him to handle this, while he’s at it,” Matt ordered snottily, holding out the crumpled paper from his pocket. “If my dad takes that away, I’m leaving. It’s the only thing I care about.”
Great at ferreting out details, Cynthia noticed the boy’s stutter hadn’t shown up in his conversation with her. Maybe it only happened when he was upset?
The boy split off toward the supply trucks as Cynthia stared at the picture. Hand-drawn in meticulous detail, the reporter didn’t think she’d ever had such a vivid view of cicadas. Feasting on slaver corpses, it was gruesome, but so well drawn that it was also a bit frightening. Those bugs were realistic enough to fly off the paper and attack. Had Mitch even looked at it?
“Too damn drunk to recognize his son’s talent,” Cynthia muttered. Matt wouldn’t trust anyone right now. How could she help?
“Things okay?” Samantha hadn’t wanted to ask, but that was another part of being an Eagle that would help boost her self-confidence. Interactions with people were rough for her.
Cynthia had paused at the question, having one of those introspective moments that said she, too, needed to act more like what she was now–an Eagle in Adrian’s army.
“Not really,” Cynthia admitted reluctantly. “Maybe you can give me some advice?”
Also off-duty and roaming, Samantha stopped in surprise. “Uh, sure. About what?”
Cynthia quickly filled her in on the situation, and Samantha fell into it as if she’d been hoping for something to do other than to search for bad weather and ignore her men each time they passed on their rounds.
Twenty minutes later, the two women were still talking, but not about Matt.
“I wondered if it was something like that. You don’t seem the type to play two ends against the middle,” Cynthia stated.
“I’m not, but this damn heat! It’s in the food here, or something. I’ve never…” Samantha stopped, staring at the lone camp member now climbing the stairs to the shower camper.
Cynthia followed her line of sight, but neither of them acknowledged the woman, even though she flashed longing their way. Lexa was one of them, Sam and Cyn knew it, but until the gun shop owner accepted the rules and asked to be signed up, they couldn’t treat her like it.
Lexa vanished into the shower camper, and the two females returned to their conversation, one that now included thoughts and comparisons on multiple areas of camp life. Both of them still wanted the XO slot, but it was put aside for the moment, and magic took its place as the women began to communicate like team members need to.
“No, I never would have expected that either.”
“And it’s so simple, the way he controls them all.”
“And they ask him for it.”
“Exactly. You can’t have leadership...” Samantha trailed off, distracted again.
Cynthia watched the storm tracker’s face tighten in the light from the burnt-down can fire. “Are you okay?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Samantha stated as if in a daze.
She moved toward the tent area and Cynthia didn’t hesitate to follow.
4
On Point over the camp, Kyle was occupied with finding a replacement for Mitch and tracking down Zack’s youngest boy, whom he suspected was the one now stealing bottles for Matt. He missed the sight of the two rookie females heading for camp at a fast pace.
Kyle’s mood was ugly. He’d gotten used to being with Jennifer at night, to watching her sleep after she drifted off against her will, and he was loathing the time away. It made for a surly Point man that only his right hand was able to approach without fear. Since he’d given Kyle a possible solution, Daryl and his team leader had gotten closer.
“Point man to the supply truck.”
Kyle switched directions, grunting. After the fight with his dad, Kyle could guess who had just shown up wanting a bottle. The highest Eagle stormed that way with a scathing lecture ready.
He heard them before he got there.
“No.”
“Just l-let me have
it. No one g-g-gives a shit about me anyway.”
Kevin frowned. I hate third shift duty. “That’s not true. Go sleep it off, Matt.”
Matt punched the side of the truck. “I want a d-drink!”
“You’re asking to be banished. Go to your tent, little boy!” Kyle ordered harshly.
Matt spun around with a raised arm and the mobster gave him a solid clip to the jaw that sent him to the ground.
Oww!” the boy groaned, holding his mouth.
Kyle knelt down to talk some sense into Matt, whether he was ready to listen or not.
“Ssscchhhhhh!”
Thick static went through every radio in Safe Haven that was turned on, jarring an entire camp of refugees from sleep.
The leaders inside its borders waited tensely for the next sound.
“SScchhh-ssshhhccc!”
The second wave was stronger. Electrical components began to short out.
Kyle ripped his radio from his belt and hit the button. “Shut ‘em off! Electrical storm!”
“Schhrr!”
The radio sparked, and Kyle dropped it, using his feet to stomp out the small flames trying to grow. Dogs began to bark and birds fled from the trees above them in a flurry of panicked wings. There was a clear sense of danger, heavy and unavoidable, coming closer.
Kyle looked at Kevin in horror as the squelching sound echoed through the darkness again, further upsetting their herd. The sky above them was dark and calm except for the retreating wildlife.
Kevin’s return glance was just as terrified. This was no electrical storm.
“Fire!” The shout echoed across camp.
Matt slowly picked himself up as the adults ran toward the call, full of bitter, self-pitying hatred. What do I care if there’s a storm? He heard the chaos starting, but his gaze was on the now unguarded door of the supply truck. Whole camp can die. I just want a bottle.
Matt slipped inside the rig, and no one noticed.
5
Beneath the ground near the edge of the protective shield, a quarter-sized hole opened up and started to fall in on itself. An old mining shaft below provided no foundation, no brace to stop the sinking, and the hole began to grow by inches on all sides, sending ripples through the dirt that quickly fell in.
A minute after it opened up, the hole was five feet wide and still expanding as the dirt continued to cave in on all sides.
Crunchh...
On guard over new arrivals in the QZ, Doug registered the newest noise with concern, but didn’t leave his post. He kept people from breaking quarantine by holding up his gun, glad the small group was being reasonable. They were all gathered at the edge of the tape, watching fearfully, but not running blindly like many in the main camp were doing.
Thud…thud…crunnccchhh!
Doug swung toward the tilting shower camper that he could barely distinguish through the trees. Tilting? he questioned his own sight.
His feet shifted against his will as the ground rumbled and Doug grabbed the side of a tree as the dirt directly under his feet suddenly swayed.
The new arrivals were thrown to the ground as the tremor grew stronger. Trees shook, sending down stiff, moldy leaves.
Thudddd! Riiipppp! A full row of port-o-lets next to the tilting shower camper dropped into the ground.
Doug’s mouth fell open in shock.
Grrriiinnndddd! Craaassshhhh!
Doug stumbled as the ground shifted again.
The shower camper plunged into the sinkhole next, sending up a thick cloud of dirt. Behind that, a line of moldy trees followed with ear-splitting grinds and cracks. Dust showered the area, obscuring it even with the light of the fires.
“Help at the showers!”
Doug’s shout was swallowed by the static and he tossed his headset away as it sparked, catching his vest on fire. Slapping at it, he rushed toward the shower camper that he could no longer see any part of through the falling grit.
Above Safe Haven, the invisible shield glowed brilliant red.
6
Strapping on her gun, Angela hurried from her tent to find Samantha and Cynthia rushing her way.
“Look after Adrian so the Eagles can work,” Angela instructed, scanning the camp.
Samantha motioned to the reporter to handle it, and Cynthia changed directions. Samantha stayed on Angela’s right.
Angela tossed an arm around Charlie’s tense shoulders as he and Marc arrived, concentrating. Together, they swept the camp and found the biggest problems.
“Shower campers, mess for control, fire crew to the tent area,” Angela listed as Marc copied.
She sent Charlie to the mess to help care for the camp members, sure that’s where most people would go. Adrian’s drills had them trained to take shelter there.
Angela rattled off more instructions, and Samantha copied them down, also making her own notes. Without radios, the Eagles were using hand motions, but those on the outer perimeter were moving in to see what the problem was. People were stumbling, fleeing, radios were sparking, burning, being stomped out, and the ground under the entire camp rumbled ominously. Samantha hid her sudden case of nerves and swallowed the secondary grin that wanted to flash next. She was an Eagle, supposed to be cool and calm even in the face of chaos, and she would act like it.
Angela found another problem and turned to Marc. “Perimeter men are leaving posts!”
Marc immediately went into security mode and began grabbing running Eagles, sending them out to keep those places covered.
Sscchhhrrrippp!
Around them, panicked camp members were fleeing, screaming as another crack tore through the ground. Animals began to run by, telling them there was also trouble in the vet area.
Seeing Adrian starting to move through the din was a comfort, and his men fell in around him, waiting to be told what to do. He headed for the area that had enough grit hanging over it to make people wonder if they had been bombed again.
Before Angela could go to him, too, Samantha shook her head. “Hang on. Something’s not right.”
“Can you tell what?” Angela asked over the new noise of Eagles shooting the wilder animals that were chasing camp members. She was getting nothing except panic and chaos from her own searching now. The witch was tiredly trying to decide which open doors were threats and which had only jarred loose from the emotions spewing across the camp.
“I get sensations, not images.”
Angela grabbed Samantha’s wrist. Maybe they could merge...
Samantha jerked as if she’d been stung and the door opened.
“Trap!”
Damn it! Angela followed Sam as she took off running. Adrian! Brady!
“Get this under control,” Adrian ordered, spinning around to take up a place behind the running women. He didn’t know where the trouble was, but Angela’s call had been urgent.
Kenn didn’t bother answering, instead stepping forward to flank Doug as the calmer camp members crowded each other for a view of the still-growing sinkhole.
Doug waved a hand. “I might be able to lift that corner enough to move it.”
Kenn paused in determining where to make his descent. The shower camper was only partially in the hole, the front end crushed against the jagged dirt edge.
“Okay,” Kenn agreed. He wanted to be able to tell Adrian there hadn’t been anyone inside.
7
“Shit!”
Crruussshhh!
Samantha and Angela arrived in time to see the kids’ camper drop heavily into the new sinkhole...and then keep going. The ground shifted on all sides, falling in on itself, and the young screams from the swallowed camper echoed across their hearts.
Adrian and a swarm of Eagles rushed straight into the danger. They grabbed whatever they could reach–bumper, door handles, window frames– trying to stop the camper from sinking further. Inside, women and kids cried out for help.
“We need Doug!” Adrian shouted.
Crunchhh!
“I’m he
re!” The big man had come as soon as he’d lifted the shower camper, leaving Kenn to supervise bringing up the body.
Another large chunk of dirt broke off near the camper’s edge and disappeared into the black hole.
“Help us!”
“Please!”
Surrounded by helping Eagles, Doug grunted in effort, lifting with his legs, and the small camper slowly came up enough for them to slide a concrete plate underneath.
Almost the entire kids’ area had been lost, but only this one camper was in danger of being devoured. Alert Eagles had driven the other campers away with their precious cargo inside.
“Get them out of there!” Adrian ordered as the camper was dragged away from the danger.
He put a hand on Angela’s arm when she would have gone in. “No.”
Covered in axle grease, Marc nodded his approval and went to finish securing the perimeter.
Angela didn’t like it, but didn’t argue as Kyle and Daryl began calling for what they needed to get the crushed door open.
Minutes later, bruised and bleeding kids were being carried out to John.
Doug came forward as a small Mexican boy was brought out, taking him from Kyle’s surprised arms with a gentleness that everyone noticed.
“Come here, boy,” Doug encouraged warmly. “We’ll wait for your brother together.”
The four-year-old hid under Doug’s big arm, and the man patted his shoulder comfortingly as they waited for Kyle to bring out the rest of their people.
The females of the camp were gathering here, too, and taking the uninjured children to the mess as they were cleared, offering what comfort they could get the kids to accept. Most were stunned, too dazed to keep crying, but a few were already laughing again at adult efforts, telling their guardians they were strong.
Doug took the shaking boys toward the mess when the elder one was led out, and Adrian watched them. Doug was a gentle giant in his army and very needed.
Searching for her charges, Peggy also saw Doug and the boys and crossed the pair off her list. She spared a quick glare for Adrian and then went to help Kyle and Daryl with the rest of the trapped children. Adrian had refused her request to make Becky talk to her, and the mother was still steaming over it.