The Life After War Collection

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The Life After War Collection Page 323

by Angela White


  “Black and strong for my coffee,” Marc stated. “The wake up time depends on Angie’s schedules.”

  “Cool.” Shawn was relieved that Marc hadn’t argued and quickly wrote it down. He’d thought Marc would pick Jax or Quinn for his Man Friday.

  “What else?”

  “She wants you to supervise the setup with Kenn,” Shawn informed him. “Said no one else will catch the small details.”

  Marc liked that feeling. “Okay.”

  “Great. We have a couple more items and then we can get into the Eagle training she wants outlined.”

  Marc was realizing that being Angie’s XO would be a lot of work and responsibility and was pleased. After witnessing how gifted she had become, he’d been having doubts about how much she actually needed him. If she had a list this size for him now, that meant there was a lot more waiting.

  “We need to gather all the numbers on food, water, fuel, and all the other items on the list. She wants that one by morning if possible. I’ll get people on it as soon as security is in place.”

  “Security’s already up,” Marc informed him, increasing speed a bit as the dust cleared. “She sent a crew last night.”

  Shawn mentally scrolled through the people in their convoy, and came up with, “Kevin’s team?”

  “And the ants,” Marc confirmed.

  “That’s great!” Shawn exclaimed. “Camp will be up quick.”

  “I want mess two hours after we land and lights out by midnight,” Marc instructed, ending Shawn’s thoughts of an easy shift followed by a night of drinking and bullshitting. “All patrols are the dual setup that Kenn and I agreed on–half rotating, half stationary.”

  “And that was the final thing on her list,” Shawn replied, closing his glossy new notebook. “Sweet.”

  Marc went over it a bit mentally, but kept most of his attention on the road. Now that the wind had settled down and the grit wasn’t blowing, the drop-offs and narrow, winding roads were too obvious. He reduced their speed, not wanting the twitchier drivers to fall behind.

  “I want breakfast with her as much as you can arrange it,” Marc said evenly, testing. Was Shawn actually his or one of Angie’s endless stooges? “I need to keep track of her eating habits.”

  “I’ll try to cover that even when you can’t be there,” Shawn agreed quietly. “But I won’t put it in the book.”

  “Good,” Marc approved. Time would tell if Shawn could be his or not, but that was a good start. “I’m used to government food, so give me whatever we have the most of each day. Save the best stuff for the camp.”

  “Got it.” Shawn understood Marc didn’t want any preferential treatment and liked that. “All set on her list. We can get into Eagle training now.”

  Since claiming best gun in camp, Shawn had been anticipating the next level tests. He had a lot of ideas.

  “Actually, I’d like you to talk to Kenn about it first, then come to me,” Marc instructed. “He’ll chop it apart and leave you with what we can use.”

  Shawn wasn’t offended. He knew they’d served together before the war and were used to coming up with plans like these. “No problem.”

  Marc steered around the decaying top of a tree that had collapsed over part of the lane. He wasn’t spotting signs of people, nothing fresh that said there was human life here, but he felt them and was suddenly anxious to be camped so that he could concentrate on his grid. If he sent it out now, his driving might suffer.

  “From now on, I want someone else behind the wheel for me,” Marc said suddenly. “For at least a few months.”

  “We’re camping for the winter,” Shawn reminded him. “Why would you have to leave?”

  “I’ll still be going out on supply runs and such,” Marc answered.

  There was an awkward silence and Marc realized Shawn was holding something back. “Won’t I?”

  “Uh, maybe you’d better talk to the boss,” Shawn stated uneasily.

  “Just tell me,” Marc ordered.

  Shawn unconsciously leaned away as he said, “She doesn’t want any of the descendants out of camp, but she especially mentioned leadership. The Chain of Command has been grounded.”

  3

  “We came from Canada,” Tara said. “We were held there before the war.”

  “Where are you from?” Angela asked politely, thinking her blue robe appeared very clean for people who’d been on the road with not even a bag of gear. The black gym shoes on the woman’s small feet did have wear-and-tear, however. Angela was betting her skin also looked that way. Gym shoes were not good for hiking.

  “Maine,” Missy blurted before her mother could answer. “We’s from Maine.”

  Tara was gaping at Missy and Angela pushed harder mentally. Missy seemed almost feral, but with time among her own kind and soft care, she might recover. “Why did you leave?”

  Tara was still stunned, but none of Angela’s people were surprised when Missy began answering questions while drawing on the van seat with a red crayon she had taken from the stuffed pocket of her red and blue jumper.

  “They took me when the loud bells came. We rode a train!” The little girl dug the crayon into a small tear in the fabric. “They hurt momma.”

  Angela gently eased the crayon from the child’s tight, filthy grip. “Eat this.”

  The girl grabbed the apple and chomped it into bits that were gobbled as if they were pudding. As she crunched, the pointed ends of her teeth were visible and creepy.

  “What’s up with her?” Jennifer asked rudely. She didn’t trust these new people. They were hard to read. She was laboring for every glimpse into their minds.

  “She’s been in and out of labs since she was born,” Tara stated painfully, twisting her hand into the corner of the robe that covered clean jeans. “She’s wild. That’s all I ever seem to know.”

  “Tell us your story, from start to now,” Angela instructed coolly. I’m already tired of this, she thought.

  “I was born in the lab,” Tara answered quickly. “So, I didn’t have parents.”

  Before any of her passengers could interrupt with corrections or questions, Angela sent a glare around the vehicle and mouths snapped shut.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Tara’s meek words drew disapproval and anger, but not from Angela. “Go on.”

  Angela settled back to listen, confident Marc had the convoy covered.

  And if he doesn’t, we know who’s bringing up the rear, don’t we? the witch remarked snidely. Adrian’s betrayals were an open wound to the demon.

  Yes! Angela flung. One in front, one in the rear, and my team in the middle. Now will you please shut up?!

  Stung, the witch vanished.

  Angela swept the uneasy witnesses in resignation. “It was a long nine days, for all of us.”

  Tensions eased a bit, replaced by sympathy. All the fighters in Safe Haven were feeling the effects.

  Attention gradually shifted back to Tara, who had clearly picked up a lot of it. Her face stayed red as she explained how she and Missy had come to be here.

  “I was created from donors. Descendants created that way don’t have a bond with their biological hosts and are considered not to have parents.”

  “In order to break the ethical lines?” Angela confirmed one of Adrian’s endless theories while the others muttered in disapproval.

  “Yes. Descendants who have contact with free parents often have to be forced into corruption. Those who have corrupt parents also swing toward the light, but cannot resist the temptations.”

  “And those who have both?” Angela asked, knowing if she didn’t, Jennifer would. “One of each?”

  Tara’s gaze went to Missy, who was finished with the apple and staring longingly at the hole she’d widened with her crayon. The child was humming softly.

  “Most of them go bad,” Tara admitted. “It’s hard not to in the labs, especially if they get them young, but some kids resist. It changes them.”

  “And if they
were already…damaged?” Angela pushed.

  “They become like Missy,” Tara said shamefully. “They hurt her!”

  She dissolved into tears and Angela gave her full attention to the child. “I’m Angie. Will you tell me what really happened?”

  “They made me do things.” Missy’s young countenance glazed over with hatred and an evil rose to the surface, demonstrating dangerous intelligence. “When I wouldn’t, they hurt my mommy!”

  “Are they coming for you?” Angela demanded, leaning forward. “Tell me when!”

  Missy arched, power flooding the cabin, and Jennifer grabbed Tara’s arm before she could interfere.

  “Let them be,” Jennifer ordered. “She’ll get the truth from your kid.”

  Missy’s eyes turned solid black and she took a clawed grip on Angela’s wrist. “A week is all you have. My daddy rides his death train even now.”

  Angela’s mind shuddered at the thought of her time on the train, of being below ground and dependent on Donner.

  “You killed him,” Missy stated, reading the gruesome scene in her mind.

  “Yes.” Angela patted the child’s cold hand. “And I’ll do the same to your demons.”

  “For what price?” the child asked angrily, flames twining around her hand to sear Angela’s finger fuzz.

  “You must be good!” Angela intoned, using her alpha gift to be certain she got through. The child’s physical magic was weak compared to her own and didn’t hurt. They were the same type of descendant, though. “Corruption isn’t allowed, not even in children.”

  “Being good is easy,” Missy agreed. The flames receded until they were gone. “I am good.”

  Angela smiled and lifted the little girl onto her lap, where they snuggled for a hug that filled the cabin with relief and serenity. None of them had been sure if Missy was corrupt. Her wild mind was too hard to read. Even Jennifer couldn’t make sense of the images she saw in the girl’s mind.

  “Missy’s father is an alpha,” Tara told them nervously in the silence. “He took us from the complex after the war and went to Canada. There were others like us there. Her father wanted us to help lead, but everyone was scared of Missy’s predictions. She told them a big fire was coming. We didn’t realize Major Donner was the one supposed to deliver it. He showed up a few months after we got there. The others were thrilled to be getting help from any government, but I hate soldiers and we didn’t go to the final meeting.”

  Tara’s eyes glazed over as she recalled the nightmare. “We almost didn’t escape the flames when Donner’s men came for Missy. I killed them and took a truck. It’s hidden not far from where you found us.”

  “How many others escaped?” Angela asked as the child played with the necklace that Marc had given her. The ‘A’ shaped pendant was being twirled and spun, twirled and spun.

  “Half a dozen? Her father was with them. We got separated by the river.”

  “Did he see you?”

  “Yes,” Tara answered fearfully. “He’s not far away. We can feel him.”

  “He wants me,” Missy said suddenly. “He has questions.”

  “Questions?” Greg parroted. He’d only been observing until now, storing thoughts and information as Angela had mentally instructed.

  “He wants to know about death,” the little girl answered gravely, tucking Angela’s necklace inside her Eagle Jacket. “He wants to talk to my angel.”

  “The angel of death?” Jennifer asked, horrified. Surely, she was misunderstanding. This child couldn’t communicate with death… Right?

  “Why does he want to talk to your angel?” Angela asked.

  “I told him his death date and he wants to negotiate,” Missy replied. “He hopes to find a way in.”

  “To control the angel?” Jennifer asked, wondering if the matching clothes of the people in this van–jeans and jackets–wasn’t allowed where Tara came from. The woman kept eyeing their patches with tiny frowns.

  “He thinks he should be the one who decides life and death for the world. He has stolen more life forces than any other descendant.” Missy regarded Angela reproachfully. “More than you.”

  Angela shuddered again. The images Missy was replaying were as bad as the carnage Safe Haven had left in its wake–maybe worse, because the Canadian corpses included elderly and children. Missy’s father appeared evil and capable of killing without remorse. Angela wouldn’t know for sure until the man arrived, but as of right now, the tall, sandy blond man in Missy’s memories was on her new list as a priority target.

  “What’s your father’s name?” Angela needed to know.

  “Jack, but he gets mad when people call him Jackie,” Missy spilled, ignoring her mother’s flinch. “He likes it when they call him Big Jack Devine.”

  There was instant recognition for Angela and Greg, and Jennifer drew the reason from their thoughts. Jack Devine was a name they’d both heard from Adrian. Before Adrian’s banishment, he’d given all the top Eagles a list of people to watch out for. Devine had been at the top of it.

  “What about Kranten, Stevens, and Vlad?” Angela asked, easily remembering that the names that had brought a sense of dread to Adrian.

  “They’re with him,” Tara muttered. “Always. If not, I might have been able to kill him by now. They’re his personal defenders and they’re sick. They actually want to die for him, for the honor.”

  Tara stopped talking as coldness permeated the air.

  Angela was communicating, walls up to keep the others out, and the temperature in the van continued to drop.

  4

  “We’re pulling up now. Prepare to stop and slowly make your way into the assigned areas. The map is in the glove box or with your front passenger. I repeat, drive to your assigned place. Vehicles left without drivers will be shoved off the side of this cliff.”

  Angela snorted at Kenn’s radio call. He was a bit testy. The com truck was right behind the lead semi and Kenn was scheduled to hand the radio over to Tonya as soon as he parked it in the proper spot. After that, Kenn would stay with Marc and finish his training for these setups. Marc hadn’t dealt with this many people in such a limited space yet, but Kenn had at a bowling alley and a few other locations. Marc needed that knowledge under his belt and Kenn needed a better role model than Adrian, even if it was someone he hated.

  “The area is already secured, but it will take a few minutes to get the bathrooms set up. Stay out of the way and it’ll happen faster,” Kenn instructed.

  The new people needed these lessons on procedure and Kenn’s attitude said to pay attention. It would also remind the soldiers of their old world and let them relax a bit. The soldiers who had chosen to stay in Safe Haven were mostly draftees, but they had spent enough time in awful military care to need a firm hand.

  Angela made two gestures and immediately received a disbelieving glare. She didn’t change her expectant expression.

  Jennifer let out a grunt. “Fine.”

  “You’ll tell Kendle?” Angela confirmed.

  “Yes,” Jennifer muttered. “You know how much I adore chatting with the survival queen.”

  Angela grinned. “Yes, I do.”

  “When?”

  “Now would be best.”

  Jennifer concentrated on the woman she was coming to consider a rival and future enemy. She didn’t like Kendle one bit.

  Hey, killer! Boss wants you on the new arrival.

  Jennifer braced for a nasty response, but didn’t get one at all. She narrowed in on her prey and found the scarred island woman asleep in a rear passenger vehicle.

  Jennifer wondered what Kendle was dreaming about so deeply that she’d missed Kenn’s arrival announcement. She pried, aware of the dangers and possible bonds that could come from such contact. She entered Kendle’s dream carefully.

  Oh, God!

  Jennifer immediately hit the button on her belt. She had to interrupt that. “Kendle to the boss. Report ASAP!”

  “Copy,” Kendle answered groggily a
few seconds later. She’d clearly been nudged awake.

  Jennifer thought she also detected a note of gratitude and tried to harden her heart. Kendle’s nightmares matched her own and then surpassed them. Cesar had been a cakewalk compared to what Kendle had suffered, but Jennifer didn’t want to feel sympathy for the island woman–mainly because of Adrian. As long as that former leader had a way in, he would always be able to cause problems and Jennifer resented that. Kyle should have received orders to kill him. Jennifer had voted for it and she wasn’t sorry, though she did understand Angela’s reason for not doing it. Adrian was a library of knowledge, but he was also a traitor and they couldn’t forget that, or worse, actually forgive it.

  Jennifer peered at her newest duty and found the little girl staring at her fearfully.

  “What?” Jennifer snapped, suddenly cold to her bones.

  “She lied.”

  Jennifer felt her stomach drop. “Excuse me?”

  Missy opened her mouth to reveal more, but the van became icy and Missy’s head snapped toward Angela.

  “I mean that,” Angela stated evenly. “In time, it’ll be proven, but you have to control yourself. If you’re not sure, ask me.”

  Missy’s stubborn expression held for only a moment, and then her head dropped and she returned to picking threads from the hole in the seat.

  Angela glared at Tara before Jennifer could form the next logical question. “Why doesn’t she know the rules yet? How can she communicate so easily if she’s wild? What are you lying about?”

  “She’s not hiding anything!” Tara insisted. “Her gifts are frightening and she’s never been around people who needed her to act normal. In the labs, they kept her wild to promote her powers.”

  “What gift?” Angela demanded, though she knew already. Little Missy was currently predicting the fates of people in this van, and Angela noted each one. Missy had all of the same gifts that she did, and then a few more, it appeared.

  “She sees…events.”

 

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