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The Life After War Collection

Page 286

by Angela White


  “You’re like them. So am I. We’re the evil.”

  Before the man could stop her, the girl rushed toward the edge of the cliff with her child clutched tightly…

  Kyle jerked himself out of the vision so hard that he shifted Jennifer from his chest and startled them both into uneasy alertness.

  Jennifer, exhausted and comfortable with Kyle being close, only muttered and shifted back into the warm spot.

  Kyle was frozen in agony.

  She will see what she has unleashed, what all of you have become, and it will be too much. She needs you.

  To do what? Kyle forced out. Manipulate her into thinking I’m the sun and the moon, worth living for?

  To heal her wounds, the witch filled in. To work through these things with her before she becomes overwhelmed by the blood.

  Her wounds are from being hurt by men. It takes time–

  That you won’t have, the witch interrupted, getting aggravated that she couldn’t explain it so he could understand. She is not a child. She is a woman, a mother, and she has friends. None of those things will be enough to hold her here once she realizes she is corrupt. Only love can bring her through that darkness.

  Kyle was adding up clues. You’re scared. What happens to you if she dies?

  The witch faded back at the question, voice a quiver of terror. I end.

  One way ticket? Kyle asked without compassion. He blamed the witch for Jenny’s deeds.

  Yes, but you’re wrong. I tried to stop her. She wanted to kill, to be a part of this war in ways she knew would never be forgotten.

  She’s afraid of dying? Kyle guessed.

  But not like most of you humans are, the witch whispered. And when she realizes how much evil she carries, that terror will be the only punishment she feels is suitable. You have to stop her.

  From what?

  Hating herself. Show her how you feel, how you see her. Bring her back to the light.

  And if I don’t? She’ll jump?

  Or pull a trigger, swallow a pill. Once she decides she doesn’t deserve to live, she’ll take her life. Its why so many of my kind have been absent in the world.

  With that, the witch left Kyle and Jennifer woke up.

  Jennifer had been vaguely aware of voices and emotions flowing around her as she dreamed. It had pulled her from that first night of new ownership with Kyle. So much had changed since then.

  “Are you all right?” Kyle asked softly, anger gone. He would have to spend time thinking about things, but he was already sure he would take action. He doubted it would be the recommended plan, but he wouldn’t sit by and lose her.

  Jennifer nodded against his chest. “Better after some more sleep. You coming this time?”

  Kyle smiled, shifting slightly to hold her more securely. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jennifer giggled and let sleep pull her down as Kyle evened out his breathing for slumber. She felt him dozing, but not coming below the surface far enough to join her, though. Jennifer didn’t insist. She swam off alone through the murk in her mind, trying to sort and make room for the horrors that tomorrow would bring.

  4

  “I hate them!”

  Conner stomped through the woods in a rage that allowed no attention to his surroundings. He didn’t care that he might run into soldiers or wild animals. He had to find his dad before Angela handed him over. He knew Adrian was with Marc and he thudded through the woods, mentally screaming for the wolfman.

  “Show yourself!”

  The shadows behind Conner couldn’t hear him, but the shadowy form in front of the boy could.

  Marc winced at another loud blast, signaling to Kenn.

  Kenn, extremely unhappy with the chore, blew the dart with enough force to send it spiraling toward the angry teenager like an arrow.

  Conner slapped at his neck, staggering as the double dose of drugs penetrated his blood stream and began to take immediate effect. He slid to his knees, once again fighting to remain conscious.

  Boots appeared in front of him.

  With the last of his control, Conner shoved his head up to see Marc standing over him with merciless crimson orbs.

  The drugs took over and Conner could only yell silently, trying to protect his secrets. He was terrified that the vet had mentioned him being outside Safe Haven’s perimeter while everyone was leaving. The vet was with the other camp members by now, which meant he might have already told Angela.

  Conner tried to keep it all from his mind as he faced Marc, who could also know of his…deviance.

  Marc didn’t like Conner’s protective thoughts, the glowing door of secrets that was surrounded by spells of pain. He waited until the teenager started to relax before blasting into his mind to yanking on the handle.

  No! Conner shouted, jerking, but it was too late. Marc saw everything.

  To keep from facing what he’d been doing, Conner let the drugs take him. It would only be a short reprieve, but he wanted it.

  “Yeah, that’s about right, considering who your dad is.” Marc grabbed the boy by his thick jacket and hefted him up and over his shoulder “Come on, son. You’ve had a long day. Time for a nappy-nap.”

  Kenn couldn’t help the snicker. He didn’t care much for Conner, only Adrian’s anger at their actions. He didn’t have a big problem with the kid, but his attitude was too cocky at times and too sullen at others to allow a feel for who he was. As a result, Kenn didn’t trust him.

  “It’s Adrian’s kid,” Marc stated, stomping down a path that unsuspecting soldiers would try to follow later. “Of course you can’t trust him.”

  Kenn got closer, keeping track of their Indian escorts. Grendin made him nervous. He wasn’t sure why, but the feeling of unease was clear. “You gonna fill in my blanks at some point? I told you, I won’t interfere.”

  “Adrian has one more shot to come clean,” Marc grunted, shifting Conner’s dead weight for better balance. “You’ll get to hear it, along with everyone else.”

  Kenn realized Marc had been lying when he said he didn’t know the plan. Kenn’s eyes widened. “It’s really your plan, isn’t it?”

  Marc didn’t confirm or deny. Keeping Kenn out of the loop was still important. The Marine had a habit of sticking his nose in at the wrong time. Marc hadn’t forgotten that. They had a deal in place because Kenn had agreed to follow orders, but that didn’t mean he could be trusted.

  Kenn withdrew a little to provide better coverage. His mind was spinning in too many directions and he shut it down, telling himself he would get into it when he had a few minutes of peace and quiet.

  The Indians providing Marc’s escort kept their eyes and ears on the cliffs and trees around them. The winds were blowing gently, but they were not friendly. For the natives, it was easy to hear that something wasn’t right with nature. Safe Haven refugees had figured that out after enough death, but the Indians had known it since before the war. As they walked, they started to hum a soothing lullaby that brought a peaceful feeling to keep them company.

  Marc found himself humming along with them. He’d learned that one while they fought together. It called to him in a way that made him feel like he’d known it for years. It was a deep, rumbling range that reached inside and reminded him that this was how he was meant to live. He’d never felt more spiritually fulfilled than the weeks he’d spent with the Indians. It was something he would have to talk to Angela about, if their attempt to live in the mountains after this war failed. He knew she could leave, though it would hurt her. For Marc, he wasn’t sure he could even step onto the boat, let alone sail away. It was the one thing that might actually come between them.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Time to Go

  1

  Samantha watched the new base from the fork of another tree, this one covered in slimy mold. She figured the soldiers wouldn’t expect her to pick a contaminated tree over the healthy ones. She’d set up her blind with that in mind. The soldiers below her had cooking fires burning, enjoying the end
of a day.

  Offended by their lack of concern, Sam waited impatiently for her next scheduled part in the plan. She wanted to change their perception of safety right now. She hated only wounding. Not killing Donner was going to be a mistake, and in the hours since, Sam had almost decided that when she took aim again, it wouldn’t be to follow orders. She could feel the waves of menace from the Major even when he was miles away and under the thick cover of his plentiful men. Angela might have him on the run because she’d attacked first and so quickly, but Samantha felt strongly that Major Donner was a major downer. He would have his revenge.

  Sam also agreed that Angela needed him alive to keep his men together while they were slaughtered. One thousand soldiers roaming around these mountains, with no clear leader, would have been as bad as the war, if not worse. The Army wanted things and would negotiate. A large group of AWOL soldiers would be a nightmare for anyone they caught. To keep them together, Donner had to be wounded, not killed. Samantha had done that, enjoyed it immensely, but she was torn on a repeat.

  Samantha carefully took the thermos from her backpack and twisted off the lid. The room temperature vegetable soup was a satisfying reminder of the harvest she’d help to provide, the skills she’d learned. Sam enjoyed what would probably be the best meal she had for a while. From here on out, she was scavenging her food from the land, as she’d been taught. Angela hadn’t wanted to agree to that, but Sam needed to do it to know that she would survive on her own, that she’d changed from the weak person she’d been before the war.

  And all without my help, the demon praised sadly. I’m not needed. I understand that’s why you don’t want me.

  It was said just right, bringing guilt that caused Samantha to sigh heavily. Let’s get through the next week and then maybe we’ll talk, okay?

  The demon’s mood lift from receiving that answer gave Samantha an immediate rush of adrenaline that would help keep her alert. She noted that reaction, thinking she might need it later.

  Yes, master!

  Samantha frowned, but didn’t correct the wording. She had no idea what she might unleash by a name change. When this was all over, she and Adrian or Angela would have to sit down and discuss a few hundred things.

  The storm tracker finished her meal and washed it down with a few sips from her canteen. In a bit, she would climb down for a bathroom break, scout her immediate surroundings and then return for a few hours of cold sleep while the basecamp below dreamed of happier times. When the signal came, she would remind the enemy that world was gone forever.

  Pausing in her scan, Sam paid particular attention to the wind. It carried smells and feels, and the occasional scream, but she was too conflicted for true concentration. She didn’t try to force more.

  Snap!

  The breaking twig told Sam she wasn’t alone. She went still except for the hand sliding towards her gun.

  Sam heard a deep sigh in the darkness. Unlike the morons in the slasher films, she clamped her lips together and stayed motionless.

  That deep sound of misery came again and Sam peered in the night, trying to discern who it was that she was about to kill.

  “It’s us, Sam.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “We freaked her out. Shut up, will you?”

  Tonya and Kendle came through the trees.

  Sam grinned in relief.

  “Damn twig, right?” Tonya flushed. “I know it was.”

  Samantha snickered. She kept watch as Tonya flipped on a pen light long enough to see by, while they climbed the two trees adjacent to the one that Samantha was hidden in. In the morning, Kendle and Tonya would go their own way. Shortly after that, all of Angela’s teams would start their full assault on the enemy.

  The three hens settled into their high perches for the night without the expected chatter, but they were all secretly glad they weren’t alone. Even Sam was okay with it when the predawn hours brought thick, slick fog. Alone, she wouldn’t even have been able to doze deeply, but with a teammate on each side, she had no trouble resting.

  2

  Tony struggled violently when he woke, straining to scream through the gag as he tossed his body around. He’d tried to take Tommy’s gun.

  Peggy darted him. When he hit the side of the cliff wall and knocked himself back out, Peggy was relieved. Kyle had just dropped him off, along with a couple of others they were having issues with, but Peggy was tired of playing double agent. Now that the cameras and constant observation was gone, the mood of these cave dwellers wasn’t bad. However, Peggy had been with them for the mini-riots. She knew it never took much to bring out the ugliness in people. If her instructions tomorrow were the same as today’s had been, Peggy planned to get in touch with Angela and complain. If the camp members in here found out she was helping to hold their own people captive in the deeper parts of this cave, she might be killed. At the very least, Angela’s plan would be shot.

  “You back here?”

  Peggy paled, dropping the curtain just as Doug came around the stack of crates.

  “Stealin’ a few minutes for yourself?” Doug accused. “Them babies is cryin’ for you again. Hilda wants a break. She’s working doubles now, taking up that new doctor’s slack, you know?”

  Peggy tossed him the towel from her shoulders. “Take a turn, will ya? I’m not done being selfish yet.”

  Doug returned to the baby area with a huge scowl that made Hilda reluctant to let him help. He didn’t look like he could handle something so fragile.

  Peggy only took another minute for herself and then she too rejoined Safe Haven. Angela had made it clear that the camp had to be kept in the dark until the fighting began. Once the blood was spilling, they wouldn’t be staying here. Peggy might be able to cover it a bit longer. However, if this peaceful calm held much longer, someone was bound to stumble onto their captive members and then things would get nasty.

  Peggy gave a nod to the Eagles on duty, glad of them, and went to help with the infants who didn’t like being away from their parents.

  3

  Safe Haven wasn’t alone.

  Angela had sent camp after camp to surround hers, to fight and die for the offspring hidden there if needed. Those brave men and women kept guard while the fog rolled down the mountain like a waterfall.

  As the fog came in, covering everything known and foreign, another small group joined the others. These new men were accepted simply because they’d arrived and squatted on the fringes, where the fighting would happen first. It was another layer of protection for those in the center and the extra camp wasn’t questioned, but welcomed.

  Inside this small group, fifteen of Donner’s men wearing Eagle uniforms put up Safe Haven tents, and settled down to wait–wolves among the sheep. Their recon work had told them each team was required to know every member of their group for identification purposes, but no one could know every team that was being sent out, thanks to Angela’s grand plan. It was the only slipup so far, but Donner had capitalized on it as soon as he’d heard. His personal team had been sent straight to Safe Haven’s fence, before Donner himself had even touched down. It left him vulnerable, but it put his pieces exactly where he wanted them. Close enough to grab Angela.

  4

  “I want that update. Now!”

  The startled Corporal began stammering, “We’ve lost f-five dozen men in two days. We h-have three missing patrols, and uh, we found this message… It’s written in blood, sir.”

  The Corporal handed Donner the message overtop the trembling medic kneeling at Donner’s bloody boots.

  You should have gone south.

  Donner sneered at Angela’s blood warning. “What else?”

  The Corporal pulled himself together, staring at the tent wall instead of the blood. He’d never been in combat. “No word from either base you… xited.”

  Donner glared at the near implication of cowardice. “Get out.”

  The man did, leaving the tent flap open for the soldiers outside t
o hear the screams they were all hoping for as the slug was removed. Donner hadn’t earned any friends.

  Donner shouted as the medic pulled the slug from his leg. Blood was everywhere, gauze and tubes of medicine spread out on the canvas floor.

  “Hold still, sir,” the medic warned. “This will sting.”

  He dumped the antiseptic over the wound, flinching when Donner’s eyes began to glow a bright, menacing green. He tried to make himself keep working, but that glare was too hungry. The medic fled the room.

  Donner was used to the reaction. He finished the chore himself, cauterizing the wound with the handle of the knife the medic had put on the small burner when he’d first come in.

  “Ahhh!” Donner wiped the sweat away with bloody hands and reapplied the hot blade a second time to fully close the wound. The first bullet had gone straight through and been filled with a clotting agent. The second had struck his bone, shattering off a piece of it. He might not be able to walk if the fragment shifted, according to the medic, but Donner wasn’t worried. He’d told the boy he healed quickly. That hadn’t been a lie. The wounds were already starting to redden, but he had clearly underestimated this group of descendants.

  “Never fought one who fought like me!” he exclaimed, taking a big swig of the whiskey bottle that was already half empty.

  Donner began laughing wildly, thinking of the men he’d sent in. There was a chance that they’d succeed, survive where he wouldn’t. That possibility was always there when he split up his team. Donner knew his protection was in his men and in their loyalty to him, but he needed them out there to grab the bitch. Two gunshot wounds were a small price to pay for eventual domination over the world.

  Donner cackled again, feeding the evil inside with his pain.

  The soldiers listening outside the tent withdrew in concern.

  “He’s not right,” Private Benson told his partner as they stood atop a rickety shed. “We should hit the redline.”

 

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