by Angela White
Kyle agreed. He just didn’t know how to bring it up.”
“Time. Switch sides if you haven’t already.”
The air inside the tent was thick with hope and smoke as Adrian watched her methods work. He wasn’t allowed to use this light touch on them, but she could. When she called time again, he saw many conversations he suspected would be continued later. She was bringing them together in ways he had no access to and he would show his gratitude.
“Start listening for me. When I give you a number, remember it.”
Her lack of action after those words confused them until they heard her voice in their minds and realized she was already working.
“Okay, everyone got a number?” she asked a few minutes later.
“I don’t,” Adrian stated.
“Eagles, tell Adrian what his number is,” Angela instructed.
“One!”
It was a loud chorus and she went on. “Last number was twenty. Stand up in reverse order and pay attention. I’m the only one allowed to talk.”
She observed them with a bit of pride and a lot of warmth. She could feel many of them wanting her to stand up for the number two spot. She placed Kyle there instead and stayed sitting.
As Adrian stood, she looked up at them.
“Imagine this type of communication during an attack or mission. It’s an advantage that no other army has ever had. We are the first.” She gave them a moment to consider and then waved a hand. “You’re determination will decide if you can do this without my help. I can show you how to do it, but that won’t be enough. You have to want it.”
She checked her watch, and then gestured at the floor. “Get comfortable, gentlemen. We’re going to make some more magic.”
Chapter Nineteen
Hit and Run
August 1st
Colorado
1
Thud!
The noise woke the soldiers closest to it. They glanced around in confusion, trying to find the source.
Thud!
Smack!
Hiss…
The center of the platoon scrambled way from that sound. Snakes were a common way to die in the Utah bunker they’d come from.
Thud!
Waking now, the men were rising, grabbing for weapons as the noises grew closer together.
Thud! Slam! Whap!
Bags and boxes rained on them, tubs and bowls, and in each, was a snake or scorpion.
“Get under cover! Find cover!”
The order echoed off the walls of the canyon, but the command hadn’t ordered canopies erected. The soldiers had nowhere to go as the dangerous animals fell into their campsite. With the darkness only broken by their torches and campfires, it was impossible to determine who was sending them.
“Get them up! Up! Up!”
Men followed orders, not panicked but leery for the next hit and quick to crunch anything alive under their boots. That changed as the surviving animals began to attack. There were only a few deaths, but more than three dozen men were stung or bitten, and it sent a powerful message. There would be no comforting sleep, not the kind they’d been enjoying. It was a reminder that this was war and mental battles would be fought. Marc could have killed a large number of them here, but that would increase their security procedures too quickly. Besides that, wounded men always slowed things up and that’s why they’d come–to buy time.
“But if I get the chance…” Marc waved to the men to fall back as teams of soldiers began assembling to investigate. “Let’s get some sleep while they play ‘who is that in the rocks?’”
The other ghosts snickered and followed him down into their hole to wait for the next moment of attack.
As Marc pulled the cover over the hiding place, he picked out the moon and let it vanish slowly. “Good night, baby-cakes.”
He slid down the rope and jerked it loose. Stashing it in his pocket, he turned to the men who were taking places around the cold fire pit. “Let’s go over tomorrow’s set, then we’ll get some sleep. Five hours from now, an entire platoon will be on top of us. Remember…”
“We are ghosts,” they chanted in an intimidating whisper.
Marc kept working them up, guiding them. Physically, they were ready. Mentally, they were all scarred refugees forced into fighting for their friends and family. It might not be enough to save them, but they would do damage now, while the road was clear to run. When they hit 40, that wouldn’t be possible. They would trail the soldiers and keep pecking at them until the wound was a giant hole for their men to gush through.
Tomorrow, they would ride hard and be reunited with his rookies shortly after that. Being able to cut straight across the land on a horse was a time-saver that allowed him to appear to really be a Ghost to those who didn’t already believe it.
Marc wondered how many men were waiting for him, but didn’t let himself worry over it. Fifty or five hundred, they would do damage. Jax and Paul should at least have a large part of 40 wired by now with all the hands he’d sent them. That would be a tough route to follow, but once they marched a single foot onto 40, the soldiers would have no other choice.
2
“Hit the deck!”
Marc’s men lunged for the ground as the grenade sailed into the crags behind them.
Kablammm!
Marc waved them forward. “Now! Go! Go!”
Natoli and Thaddeus fired their launchers together, and Marc waved for them to get down even before their shots exploded.
Kablamm!
Dirt and rock rained over the rebels like a downpour, slicing and clouding vision.
Boom! Boom!
“Pull back!” Marc shouted, still counting the seconds. “Get out of here!”
Shadow Riders scattered in the brief pause, not waiting to verify that their shots had landed.
Marc waited for the next blast of incoming fire, able to sense where it would land. He lunged aside and barely avoided being caught in the small rockslide.
Ears ringing, Marc hefted his own launcher and fired the last shell.
Kablamm!
He went straight south instead of the east or west flee that the soldiers expected. Their shells exploded harmlessly as Marc slid down the rocky path and vanished into the small town.
Marc spotted several of his men also moving toward their next trap and joined them along the wall. They had fighters waiting here.
Marc gave the code as he and the others burst through the door. “Drop those pants! It’s a go! Go!”
Kablamm!
Boom!
The sounds of the fighting arriving on their doorstep sent an unpleasant shiver of adrenaline through every man there.
“Fire!”
“Fire!”
Marc held the door for the men to flee out the other side of the building as their group across the street blew a stash of C-4. Wired to a shallow patch under the dirt, it was aimed at the only bridge. The soldiers would be forced to clear it or go around.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Marc ducked the noise of incoming fire, even though he and his men were clear. It was stunning, disorienting.
He shoved the man in front of him toward their next hole and was glad when the others followed. There wasn’t time or workers to keep track of everyone, but his main group, he knew the whereabouts of.
“Down!”
Marc stayed standing as the whistle grew louder, trying to pinpoint. He was relieved when it went east of them.
“Go! Go!”
Marc herded his small crew down the stairwell and led them through the darkness. They splashed unhappily across the street and came up through the basement of a store. Though it had been months, the smells were still rough.
Marc waved them into the small bomb cellar in the rear of the basement and shut the door. In fifteen minutes, when the center of the troops came by, the vulnerable element from the sides and bottom, they would blow this place and go underground to a third wired setup.
All around them explo
sions and screams were echoing through the chaos. Four other groups were busy doing the same as Marc’s, each with three strategically targets.
Marc checked the timer and sipped on his water, motioning for the others to do the same. None of them spoke.
The rumble of engines came and every heart thumped anxiously. With another exit waiting for them, they felt relatively safe, but panic was riding underneath as the thuds and rumbles began passing over.
The enemy had done their own recon and knew there was an army out here, but not how many or where it was based. Since the majority of the riders came from the south, the soldiers assumed that’s where the attacks were originating. They thought the Mexicans were attempting another takeover and were ruthless against them, which pissed off the Mexicans. Other than Sebastian, who wanted revenge, his population had chosen not to get involved in Safe Haven’s fight. With government fire teams now venturing south to deal out destruction for Marc’s attacks, a full complement of Mexicans soldiers had joined the fight a couple hours ago and the battle was raging unchecked all across 40. The government troops had gotten too spread out and the Shadow Riders were taking advantage of it in every area they could.
They had also been reinforced a bit by small groups from the west. Most were strangers who had heard the calls going out, but a few were also from Safe Haven. They, too, wanted to be on the front lines and make sure it didn’t go further than 40. Marc knew that wasn’t possible, but he welcomed each of them eagerly. He’d given this stage two weeks. He needed double that for the camp to make it to the mountains. They would be setting things up there while the government took over a base that would do them no good. These little delays would mean the difference between maybe winning and certain death.
4
“Here he comes!”
“He’s here!”
Marc plastered a welcoming expression on his face as the call went through the tired camp. After each team blew their three targets, they immediately went to the next camp down the road, where those teams were preparing for their own runs. They would be fed, tended, and reassigned to yet another target further down 40. Those tired men stayed by the fires, giving him a nod of accomplishment. It was the others in the camp–the new arrivals and camp tag-a-longs–that Marc had to pretend for, but he didn’t feel like shaking hands. He needed sleep.
It would be another three days of hitting base camps and joining these battles before he could break away and join his Eagles. Paul and Jax were doing nicely along the eastern end of 40, according to the reports he was receiving, but Marc needed to see them, needed to be reminded of Safe Haven. All this killing was bad for him. He liked it too much.
5
Just before dawn, Marc was among the small groups going out to do the day’s terrorizing. The others had blown their targets during the night–continuing Marc’s campaign of no sleep for the enemy–and the Shadow Riders had little trouble sneaking up on the exhausted, dozing men.
Marc waved Kendle into place. She was the lookout for this run. Tomorrow, she would fight at his side.
Marc led his team down the hill, using moldy cactus and decrepit shelters as cover. The smoke from campfires and the scent of coffee hung over the area.
Marc drew his weapon as they got closer and knew the others with him were doing the same. They’d gotten very good at following his lead.
Their setup hadn’t been discovered and they quickly pulled the brambles from the thick, stubby tree forks they’d sank into concreted holes a few days ago. With large bands attached, they had half a dozen small, strong slingshots to pummel the enemy with until they figured out where to fire. Across from them, a second team was waiting with the same setup. All these items had come from the surrounding town. Marc was extremely proud of their scrounging and inventiveness. There were only so many grenades, so many guns, but there was hundreds of miles of apocalyptic roads to mine.
Marc helped to uncover the stash of ammunition and began loading, listening to the soldiers boots as they began their daily march to destroy everything he loved.
Marc dug his heels in and leaned back, using his big arms to pull the band into place. He aimed high, waiting for the others to match it. He nodded to tell them when theirs was right.
Marc listened, arms protesting.
Now, the demon whispered.
Marc let go.
The fertilizer bombs caused powerful explosions, though the value of this weapon was in the damage it did to the buildings and structures. It sent debris down into the road in large chunks of smoldering metal and brick, blocking it.
Dust filled the air as the sounds of exploding weapons and screaming men rang in their ears.
Marc waited for all of his team to fire their second wave, and then followed them into the sewer. This was the last town where they would use this hiding style. The soldiers weren’t stupid. By now, they had to be figuring out how the rebels were able to hit and run. Marc had thought even using it one more time might be too much, but he’d had to take the chance. After this, the soldiers had a straight march across 40. He had to do more damage now, while he could.
6
Marc motioned Kendle into place. They were doing a last hit on their own before meeting up with the next camp and she was eager to draw blood again. The disease appeared to leave her alone for almost a full day when she got to commit an act of violence.
As Kendle slipped into place behind the small campfire, it was easier to pretend that it was Angie. There wasn’t a long, black braid or the scent of vanilla, but there was a fire burning that had to have a release.
Marc moved into the next slot, using the debris piles as cover. He nodded to her when she held up the grenade. It was only a smoker, but the suppressor he’d given her yesterday was something she hadn’t gotten to play with yet. He had no doubt she would stick around and breathe in smoke fumes to get a good run with it.
Kendle tossed the grenade lightly and the wind drafted it right into the middle of the snoozing soldiers.
Smoke poured out.
Marc took a cover position as Kendle drew her gun.
The four-man team didn’t get to return fire. Kendle was too good for that.
Marc had to take her by the arm as the smoke began to fade. The bodies weren’t bloody enough to satisfy her and Marc knew they’d be working out again before bed.
“Come on. We have to go.”
Kendle went reluctantly. Shooting wasn’t as good as stabbing or slicing. She needed that!
Marc tossed an arm around her shoulders, leaning close. “Vanilla is about the best smell in the world to most men.”
Kendle blinked, realizing he was giving her something she could use.
Marc pushed his agenda a little more. “And long hair. The men in Safe Haven love long hair.
Kendle patted her own shoulder-length locks self-consciously.
Marc chuckled, tugging her closer. “Not you. You’re one of the guys. I meant as a mate, the future. Hard not to wonder what it might be like if we win.”
Kendle didn’t answer. She was becoming too attached to Marc. She didn’t want to think about a time when she might have to give him up. His comments about smell and hair were noted, though. If he liked those things, later, when she could, she would do them for him. They were small things to ask of her, considering how good he was, how right he preferred to be. It made him a strong leader and she was already willing to follow him anywhere. If that eventually led them to his home, she would adjust. And maybe fight this Angela woman for him.
7
Marc rounded the last curve before they got to the camp that Paul and Jax were hopefully still in charge of. The soldiers had driven them back and Marc had been forced to go to their base camp to make sure things were ready now. The troops were coming faster than he could hold them. He didn’t know how many of the other groups had survived.
There were lights glowing from multiple fires, but Marc didn’t understand how many fighters had come until he topped the small rise.
“Wow.”
Kendle’s comment was lost in Marc’s shock. The vast, sprawling camp before them resembled Safe Haven so much that he had stopped, filled with longing. I miss home.
The riders behind them were also stunned by the sight as a feeling of hope began to swell among the tired men. With this many warriors, they might actually stand a chance.
Paul came greet them.
The camp fell quiet as they watched. Their gazes were protective, wary, and Marc understood his rookies had been closely cared for.
“Welcome back,” Paul called, happiness stretching across his bearded face. “You are a sight, my friend.”
Marc laughed, driven to it by the demon’s whispers. “We’re gonna wipe them out.”
Around him, his riders cheered. If Marc said something was going to happen, it happened.
The happy noise brought fast attention. The camp of hundreds began making their way toward Marc.
Paul immediately waved them off, raising his voice. “After he gets fed and tended. Let him come to you.”
Marc was grateful when the dozens of shadows stopped and then returned to what they’d been doing–waiting.
“Tell them to have two representatives from every group come to a meeting. We’ll fill in all the details and plans then.”
Paul wrote it down, aware of Marc picking out his clean clothes, the unharmed hands.
“They won’t let you work?”
Paul snorted. “They think leadership means sitting on my ass and handing out orders. I hope you’re gonna change that now that you’re here.”
Marc didn’t make any promises.
“Fine.” Paul smirked. “It is kinda nice to be able sleep with both eyes closed.”
Paul turned his attention to Kendle, saw her possessive clutch on Marc’s waist. He scowled. Angie wouldn’t like that. He didn’t say anything, however.
Marc let him off the hook. “Paul, will you take Kendle somewhere she can get cleaned up and eat?”
“I want to stay with you.”
“Paul.”
