by Angela White
2
Quinn watched the island woman thoughtfully. He was her shadow this evening, but didn’t expect trouble from her yet. On the road, she’d done well at not hurting anyone except for the enemy and herself, and Quinn thought the same would apply here.
Kendle stopped on the top of the cliff she’d just climbed for the fourth time, working on her skills, toughening muscles, and wearing out her body so that she could sleep. Angela had said she would be given orders when the time came, and waiting sucked.
Kendle glanced down and spotted Quinn. He wasn’t trying to hide from her and she recognized it as a broken rule.
“Do you want something?”
Quinn joined her on the rise and followed her lead when she sat down, legs swinging off the edge.
“Thought you might like to talk, now that you’ve worked some of it out.”
She frowned. “About what?”
“Your choice,” he said cheerfully.
“Not really.”
Quinn shrugged. “Okay.”
Kendle waited for him to leave and when he didn’t, she couldn’t find the energy to be upset. That was why she’d chosen to climb up here in the first place and she let him stay.
Quinn was aware of her strength, and of the scratches and bruises that she’d just added to the dozens she already wore. He liked a woman who could take a little pain. He didn’t want to witness it, of course, but a strong woman was much better than a whiner was.
Kendle chuckled bitterly. “I’m a screamer.”
Quinn knew she meant that in an awful way and slowly patted her hand.
He didn’t speak or linger in the touch and Kendle allowed it. Comfort was something many of these people had tried to give her, but their words were all wrong. Silence was better.
Quinn felt her accept his presence and wiped a mental brow. He hadn’t been sure that she would want him around, but he’d found himself thinking about her a lot since they’d returned.
“Why?”
“No idea.” Quinn shrugged, not upset that she was getting his thoughts so clearly. “That’s why I’m here.”
Kendle realized he was subtly scenting her and shuddered.
“Are you cold?”
Kendle nodded to cover the reaction. She needed a release and whether he knew it or not, Quinn was giving off subtle vibes of the same need.
Quinn dropped his jacket over her shoulders without touching her, feeling her lean toward him, and he asked himself the question quickly, as all men did in this situation.
Do I want her?
Sure.
For what?
Not sure.
Not good. Tell her no.
It was a method of self-preservation that men had learned too well for it to be removed by even something as traumatic as a war. If they thought for one second that they might fall in love, they refused to make a physical connection until the woman had proven herself worthy. In Quinn’s case, he already knew Kendle was and it scared him to find himself sitting here, breaking rules for a possible future with a stranger. He had Marc’s left side and very few things would be worth risking that.
Quinn stood up. “Excuse me.”
Kendle let him go. She wasn’t confused, just not interested enough to chase Quinn despite the slight attraction. Anyone could give her sex. No one could give her Marc.
3
“Do you think they’re okay?”
Marc handed Angela a cup of hot chocolate and then dropped a second blanket over her shoulders. They were in a small cave, with a fire in the doorway and bedrolls around it. They’d made love and napped, but when darkness came, she’d tensed again.
“Are you ready to go back?”
Angela was, but she also wanted the time alone with Marc and shook her head, smiling softly. “Not yet.”
Marc settled down next to her and wrapped himself up under the same blankets. For a little while, it had been just him and Angie again, and he had loved it.
“Me too,” she confessed, feeling drowsy as she sipped her hot drink and leaned against his warmth.
The fire crackled soothingly and Angela snickered suddenly. “Bet Shawn’s got his hands full.”
Marc sighed. She couldn’t leave it there. He would have to take her back to camp.
Angela realized she was spoiling the last of their free time and surrendered to the pressure from the witch. “Let’s just stay until everyone’s asleep.”
“Really?” Marc asked happily.
“Sure. We’ll sneak back in when it’s quiet and not have to listen to Shawn’s rant.”
Marc leaned down and kissed her.
His hand slid around to rest on her stomach and Angela felt the tears rise. It wasn’t fair. She had Marc and leadership, and now the baby, but in the end, she would only have one of those things and she knew it.
Trying hard to fight the depression, Angela cuddled in Marc’s big arms and stopped fighting the drowse.
Marc felt her sag and shifted so that she was under his arm. He covered her up again and sat there holding her as the night slowly passed. In his fantasies, this was most of what they did. Sex with her was as amazing as he’d thought it would be, but when it all came down, Marc knew these stolen moments were what would hold them through.
He ran a hand over her soft curls. “We’ll find a way,” he whispered.
Inside, his voice was warning that might not be possible, but Marc didn’t listen. Even if they lost the war and had to run, they would at least be together.
All around Lookout Mountain, couples were coming to the same realizations of what was important to them.
4
Evening mess started out quiet.
Shawn, unofficial leader until Angela’s return, walked through the eating people with a sense of pride. It had been hectic, but he’d done it. Marc and Angie had been gone since noon. It was now six o’clock and the camp was still here and alive. He’d done well.
“Just took these messages,” Kevin stated, coming up to hand Shawn a small stack of notes. He quickly headed back to the radio, not looking toward the mess yet. He knew Cynthia was there, along with the new group of male fans who were hoping for a shot with her. Kevin wasn’t going to be drawn into that mix. He hadn’t made a choice yet.
Shawn was busy reading.
We’ll be back later. Hold it together.
“Ah, man,” he groaned. More hours of listening to the men brag and the women nag. Great.
The next note was longer and so was the third. They were instructions for two people here and Shawn followed Kevin to the radio first.
“Hey, boss says-”
“I know!” Kevin snapped. “I took it, recall it?”
Shawn snorted and went the other way. Kevin’s tone had been joking, but Shawn knew the stress was finally getting to him. The more Cynthia ignored him, the worse it had gotten.
Shawn rotated, intending to head for the mess, and drew up in surprise. Kendle was next to him with her hand out.
“I believe that’s mine.”
Shawn handed it over with a friendly glance. “Welcome to Safe Haven.”
“I’ve been here for almost a week,” she pointed out, not bothering to open the envelope. She’d already pulled the words from his mind.
“Yeah, but now you’re one of us,” Shawn said, motioning toward the note. “She put you to work. You checked out. You can stay.”
Kendle walked away without responding. The chances of her staying here and trying to build a life, while watching Marc and Angela, was zero. She was doing her part for her country, and after that, who knew? Maybe she’d find her way back to Pitcairn. A few of the residents there might have survived and once she burnt down Kraft Manor, she might even be able to sleep.
Shawn got in line at the mess, hoping the coffee was fresh, and noticed the silence from the corner. The rest of the fighters were eating and chatting, but that far corner held three people and a tense silence that drew Shawn.
“Is there a problem here?
”
Kenn and Tonya were on one side, with Adrian on the other, and all three of them were scowling so hard that Shawn could see steam coming from their noses.
“That’s your call,” Adrian stated, dropping his spoon into the soup. “But I’d keep an eye on the table next to us. There’s been a lot of bs over there.”
Shawn found that crowded table and sent a nasty glower over the team of rookies. He spoke to Adrian, but didn’t look away from the now listening men and women. “What type of bs?”
“It seems there’s a bet on how many soldiers they’ll kill.” Adrian informed the temporary leader. “Maybe they’ve forgotten those men are American survivors who are being forced to fight for the government.”
Shawn agreed with both sides, as did the mess of fighters now listening, and he waited for more, sure there was. Adrian had set him up to hand out a punishment.
“Guess how they’re proving it,” Kenn spoke up, angry enough to start a brawl.
Shawn suddenly didn’t want to know and he looked at the table with dismay as Kenn told him.
“They plan to chop off thumbs and count them after it’s over.”
Disgust and disapproval filled the area, and heads at that table went down.
Shawn knew exactly what to do, thanks to Marc’s mentioning this yesterday. “If Brady hears that, he’ll rip you apart with his bare hands.”
Concern came and Shawn could have let it go. Instead, he drilled in his point, like Angela would done. “And I’m going to tell him. I won’t ruin his night with it when he hits the gates, but before you wake up in the morning, he’ll know.”
“And then so will Angie,” Tonya commented. “Bet you guys just lost your runs.”
The table was properly scolded now, pale, heads down, cheeks red-it was a good correction moment for Shawn, who had never thought to see himself in this position.
Shawn went to refill his mug and the table of rookies slowly cleared out, with each of them heading in different directions.
Conversations resumed, most of them about what had just happened, and Shawn was relieved that the fighters seemed satisfied with how he had handled the trouble. Maybe this leadership stuff wasn’t quite as bad as he’d thought.
Shawn swept the distance, where the faint lights from the Indians around them twinkled like a thousand fireflies. It was beautiful.
“Does he look smug to you?” Greg asked Billy. They were at one of the smaller tables, opposite Adrian’s corner. The center table was empty.
“Later,” Billy directed. “Check out the hounds.”
Greg casually glanced over to see Cynthia was surrounded again. The single men in camp were hounding her constantly, trying to take Kevin’s place. Cynthia appeared annoyed but tolerating. The six men of various levels sitting with her were arguing and getting louder. In another minute or so, Shawn would have to intervene.
“Will it be any of those?” Billy asked, returning to his food.
“Doubt it,” Greg answered, and let out a belch. “Who do you have odds on?”
Billy scanned the mess and settled on the man coming under the awning. “That one.”
Greg saw who it was and chuckled. “He’s on my list. I also thought about…”
Greg used Eagle code to send the name.
Billy hadn’t considered that and spent a moment running it through. “Interesting. Are we betting?”
“Sure,” Greg agreed. “What are you willing to lose to me?”
The wording drew Billy’s fun side out and he lowered his voice. “If you’re right, I’ll trade you my next watch duty over the showers.”
“That’s good,” Greg admired. All the males liked that post. They had too much honor to peep through steamy windows, but the sight of women in towels running for the tents was always welcome.
“And if you’re wrong?” Billy prompted.
Greg made sure his prize was of equal value. “I’ll take your next shift over Bingo time.”
“Done!” Billy laughed, surprised at the good feel here despite their leader being out of camp. He’d thought Adrian might have to take charge.
“You son of a…!”
Shawn went flying by their table an instant later to break up the fight and Greg sighed. “Should we help?”
Billy shrugged. “I think he’s got it covered.”
The sound of punching, wrestling, and debris scattering rang through the mess as the two men calmly finished their meal.
It took Shawn a few minutes to get the males sent on chores and to their tents, and he stormed through the mess, glowering at the Hounds. The guards had rushed in to help, but Shawn had still taken several swings and he wasn’t feeling like life was beautiful anymore.
As he stomped by their table, Billy and Greg exchanged small grins and began cleaning up their garbage. Everyone wanted the job until it belonged to them.
5
The campfire group was still gathering in the evening and it was no different now, despite so many of their people not being here. A dozen fighters were on buckets and stools around the center fire, with another dozen standing or sitting on the cold ground.
The fire popped occasionally and low laughter occasionally rang out, lending to the impression that things were calm. Everyone knew it was an illusion, but the need for one last night of peace was prevalent across the state. Even the camps of soldiers were enjoying their last hours.
The only ones who weren’t relaxing were teams who’d been sent out early, and the Mexicans, who Angela had ordered to patrol their southern perimeter so they could get to their own land quickly, if the government sent troops there. It had also been to keep them away from Safe Haven, to please Marc.
As the night wound down, the couples began leaving the fire for an hour of intimacy before sleep and their noises rolled across the camps, bringing jealousy and amusement.
Shawn felt neither of those things. He had a black eye from breaking up the fight in the mess. He also had a pounding headache from dealing with the female fighters who had a constant stream of questions, like “Um, if I need to pee, can I just go in my blind?” and “They were green and we wear black. That’s how I can tell who the enemy is right?”
Shawn had realized he was being razzed after Crista had leaned over and whispered: “I think my compass is broken. The needle only points north.”
Shawn shook his head at Li Sing, who’d stayed behind to cook for the fighters. Shawn couldn’t take any more coffee. He needed a couple Tums and a beer.
“Shawn to the QZ.”
Shawn groaned, but went that way without dragging his feet. He observed Daryl trailing Charlie and Tracy from the campfire and found himself thinking that after he and his chosen female participated in this war, there wouldn’t be a need to guard them anymore. Charlie was about to become a man.
“We have a group coming up, say they’re answering a call from the alpha.”
Shawn viewed the five fighters with interest. All of the Eagles had been told to expect more descendants for the fight, but only a few had come or been found.
All five men carried kits and were loaded down with weapons. Shawn counted ten handguns, seven knives, and even two crossbows, something Safe Haven didn’t have any of. These men had come prepared to battle.
“Let them in,” Shawn chose. “QZ for now. Tell Angela as soon as she gets back.”
“The alpha is not here?” one of the men questioned. He was taller, darker, and meaner looking than the others. “We will go to her.”
“She took a break,” Shawn informed them coolly. “You’ll wait here for her.”
All of the new men bristled at the tone, but their leader wisely didn’t argue. “We will wait where you tell us. We will keep our gear.”
Shawn motioned to where a QZ tent was already being erected. “Stay in the taped-off area. She’ll be back later tonight.”
Vario led his group to the large tent and Shawn liked it when the fighters casually took over the setup, freeing the Safe Haven peo
ple. Those guards stepped back and observed their newest companions.
Unlike the Safe Haven descendants, these men used their gifts openly and it was fascinating to watch them communicate and get the tent up without knowing how. It was clear they’d never dealt with such large tents, but the men had it up correctly only a few minutes after starting. Shawn thought they’d taken the images from the minds of those watching.
“They did,” Adrian stated. He’d joined Shawn as the show began and stayed quiet, reading their new members.
“Are they okay?” Shawn asked, forgetting whom he was talking to.
“That’s not my call anymore,” Adrian answered. “But I’d tell you if I thought letting them in was a mistake.”
Shawn took that as a good sign. He turned to ask Adrian when he was going to explain everything and found the man gone. He spotted him ducking into the only other QZ tent up and was satisfied that Adrian planned to stay close to the new people just in case.
Shawn headed for the last of his rounds through the tents and flushed as he passed the first one and heard what was taking place inside.
He hurriedly moved on, but it seemed like every canvas he strolled by had a couple inside reminding themselves why they were a couple. For the guards, it was torture.
Shawn stomped through, seeing Tracy’s flap was open and they were in separate bedrolls. The same was true of Kyle and Jennifer, though that flap was only half-open. Shawn didn’t care enough over the minor violation to react and he made it to the showers without hearing any other couples.
He stepped into the dark camper to relieve himself and drew up short at the sight of Dog and Star. The canines were sniffing and growling, set to mate, and the wolf looked up guiltily.
Sorry. I broke.
Shawn stormed back out, slamming the door. “It’s everywhere!”
Chapter Six
Labor Day Morning
9/2/2013
1
Kendle glared at the large woman in front of her, arms crossed over her chest. “I’m not a cook.”