by Angela White
“Grab it!” Fresh thuds and clanks echoed from another level, along with shouts and a thick thud of something falling.
People in the mess flinched before realizing it was a repair crew. Ladder anchors were being hammered in, air vents were being forced into new shapes to fit new spaces, and cables were being nailed into the ceilings that remained. The constant symphony of noises grew louder, waking those who had been sleeping.
Pushing for more information, Kenn kept his tone neutral. You didn’t tell the vet to handle individuals or give mental pushes to–
No….but I’m no longer interfering. Adrian was right about that in some ways. Fighting fate is exhausting. I don’t have the strength to defend from all sides.
The floor of the mess now consisted of steel plates, wooden beams, plastic patches, and thick welds that made walking hard. Because it had collapsed during the earthquake, most people were sticking to the edges that hadn’t fallen, refusing to trust the engineering. Angela didn’t blame them for that, but she strode across the middle of the floor with her chin up, trying to remind them it was fine when the cave wasn’t shaking.
The rear of the mess, by the burnt kitchen, was full of tables and chairs that had been stacked to make space. Around that crooked wall of beaten furniture were bags and boxes that had been pulled from various rubble piles. Britani was scrounging meals from there and from the refrigerator on the crushed level. Marc had chosen to keep it all on the same floor, including storage. The smells were unpleasant, deterring people from digging there unless they had to.
Angela and most of the Eagles were wearing the spare uniforms that were kept in their kits. Everyone else wore mismatched collections of whatever he or she had been able to locate. Workers were digging out blankets, medical supplies, and gear, but any clothes found were being used for blankets and not being worn. Kenn wrote it in his book. While the camp was laboring, he would confiscate the laundry and hand it out to individuals who didn’t have shirts or pants. He couldn’t do much about the bare feet. A large pile of shoes was on the bottom level, pulled from bodies, but the camp had refused to wear them out of respect for the dead. Some of the Eagles had tried to convince people that their loved ones would have wanted the shoes used, but it had caused fights, so Marc had ordered the men to stop insisting. Kenn wrote in his book again. If they could alter the shoes enough so they wouldn’t be recognized, Marc could tell everyone they had been in the rubble pile with their excess stocks.
Without planning it, Kenn asked a question that had been nagging him since Angela had returned from Little Rock as leader of Safe Haven. Why am I alive?
Angela sighed. She’d been asked that twice today and it was only breakfast. Why do you think?
You knew it would be this bad, that I’d be needed.
Angela felt his next question coming. Was there anything that I could have said or done to get them to skip this cursed ground?
Kenn considered as he poured his coffee from a dented steel pot. I doubt it. Other than bad events when we arrived… Kenn stared at Angela in shock. You are ruthless.
Angela faced the rickety tables instead of him. I tried everything I could think of, good and bad. I borrowed ideas from history and from people who had ideas, but didn’t volunteer them because the plans were too bloody or too risky. Then I stayed to save as many as I could, even though I knew going in that only half of us would come back out.
Kenn and Angela tensed at a wave of anger.
That choice cost us a child. Marc entered the mess, glaring. For people who don’t deserve the loyalty.
Before Angela could respond, Kenn scowled at Marc. Get off her. She’s saved your life too many times, so you don’t get to act righteous when you’re benefiting from her plans.
Kenn stormed from the mess.
Surprised, Marc lifted a brow at Angela. Is he okay now?
She went to the farthest table to observe while she finished waking. No. None of us are.
Marc felt her mood worsen and realized she’d sensed something. How bad is the next blow?
Extinction level. If I don’t kill Dirce, he takes control of this country and wipes out all American survivors.
Why? Wouldn’t he at least want slaves? Marc tried to joke, but deep down, he knew better. If they lost the fight, becoming UN slaves was the best outcome for them.
Dirce believes his people at the UN headquarters are counting on him to clear North America for their arrival. He won’t stop until we’re cleansed and he can report it done.
Isn’t he going to be easy after the battle we had with our own government?
Should be? Yes. Will it be? That’s up to fate. I can’t view beyond the avalanche. Angela motioned toward the tense couple entering the mess. Jennifer had the dream. Get your coffee and we’ll listen.
2
“I don’t like this.” Kyle led Jennifer to Angela’s table, scowling so hard that kids hurried to surround her with their protection.
Angela held up her hand. “It’s okay.”
Kyle’s face went blank as he realized he was scaring the children. All except Autumn, who was enjoying attention and care from Samantha and Neil, who had insisted they needed the practice anyway. Both Kyle and Jennifer had refused to consider bringing the sensitive baby up here where the smell of smoke hung in the air, lingering to remind them all of what they’d suffered.
Jennifer ignored his worry. “I trust Angela and so should you.”
“It’s not her. It’s you. You’re so blinded by whatever common goal brought you two together, that you’ll put yourself in danger to accomplish anything she asks.”
“Yes, like you’ve been doing all along.”
“Exactly!” Trapped, Kyle’s lips thinned into a thin line.
Jennifer smiled at Angela as Kyle slid the chair out for her. “Morning, Boss.”
Angela patted Jennifer’s hand as she sat down. “Get a pain pill the minute we’re done or I’m going to tell Jimmy to put something in your water the way John did with me.”
Jennifer made a face. “Tattletale.”
With her hair in a messy braid and arm in a sling, Jennifer didn’t appear capable of what the future held, but Angela wasn’t fooled by the outside. Jennifer would tolerate less than Angela or Adrian had when she took over. The teenager would become a powerhouse of right and wrong.
Kyle stomped to the coffee line. Jennifer had told him she’d already taken a pain pill. He hadn’t confirmed it with the doctor. I will from now on.
Jennifer studied Angela, noting the mood of deep despair. She got to business, glad that she could help. “It’s not good. The cave collapses again. We need to be in the corridor where Charlie found Shane.” Jennifer pulled her jacket closed and zipped it up over her injured arm as best she could. The colder air was from drafty passages that were no longer sealed all the way. Rubble piles blocked them from intruders, but not the wind. Jennifer missed warm heat flowing from the vents. Those were missing now, crushed and buried when the ceilings had collapsed.
“What about the one we’re digging?”
“No good. The refugees force their way in right as we clear it.” Jennifer began to recite her dream from the beginning as Marc and Kyle lingered to drink coffee, listen, and worry.
While Angela and Jennifer talked, descendant kids began to arrive for food. With not enough tables, the kids were directed to Angela’s corner of the mess to sit on the floor. None of them spoke. It was clear they were being careful around the alpha.
The non-magic kids and their guardians came in next, casting nervous glances at the other inhabitants.
Leeann stood up before Angela could tell her to.
The three dozen adults in the mess went quiet as they realized something was about to happen.
“We’re sorry for being mean to you.” Leeann’s tense little shoulders became ridged as Angela inspected her. “And…we’re going to become your friends. Right now, the…Angela wants us to protect you.” Leeann joined Roy and Romeo, who had c
ome in with Doug. “Come on, I’ll help you get a cup.”
Doug scowled toward Angela, but Roy and Romeo had been at the meeting and felt Angela’s displeasure. They knew they had nothing to fear while the boss was close. The two boys followed Leeann into the food line.
Doug left before he could argue with the choice. Showered and wearing an Eagle uniform, Doug was one of the rare clean inhabitants in the camp and more than lucky as far as everyone was concerned. The body pit was supposed to be a one-way trip.
The other descendant children also chose a non-magic kid to help, but they didn’t speak. They joined the child they’d chosen and waited for them to adjust.
Angela didn’t comfort the guardians or worry over the descendant kids being mean when she wasn’t around. Magic kids obeyed their alpha. It was in their DNA, but until now, their alpha hadn’t known about their treatment of the camp children. My mistake. You’ll have to monitor them when I can’t. The non-magic kids will realize our children can’t hurt them and take advantage. Get them to become friends.
“I will.” Jennifer didn’t believe it would be that hard now that Angela had given orders. In fact, Jennifer was optimistic that trouble might even be over.
Most of the thoughts floating around were about getting out of the tunnels and into the sunlight. Angela didn’t detect worries over the refugees or the UN troops who were coming. Her people wanted out of the mountain, at any cost. Things are about to get uglier.
“We have a missing kid!”
Marc and Angela shared a glance of dismayed realization that not all of their traitors had been caught after all.
“Who is it?” Marc went to Nancy, who was once again crying.
She staggered against Marc. “Cody! I was in the bathroom for two minutes and we had a sentry on duty!”
Marc concentrated despite knowing his grid was useless right now. Getting nothing, he looked at Angela, who shook her head. “Does anyone have him?”
Kids and adults hesitated to speak for fear of being reviled as a descendant.
Angela sent a wave of calm as she rose. “Chris?”
Everyone was unhappy to witness the vet emerge from the dark kitchen. He stood in the doorway, rumpled and stained. “Either Logan or Greg.”
Angela ignored the mutters and cries from supporters of both men. “Which?”
Chris’s green eyes grew hazy. “He took the boy through the body tunnel while the guard was talking to the doctor. He has all the medicine.” Chris shuddered. “I won’t do this one.”
“Damn right, you won’t!” Ray marched toward the vet. “You’re under arrest for murder!”
Ray’s fury was underscored by a countenance that implied he hadn’t slept well, if it all. His rumpled clothes and light beard would have been a giveaway under normal circumstances, as Ray preferred to be neat at all times, but right now, he was wearing what everyone else was–exhaustion.
“Dennis was a molester.” The vet didn’t budge from his weary, slumped stance. “He would have dragged our friend into it. Dale hates us both now, but he’s still good and still alive, isn’t he?”
Ray paused to regard Angela as the camp muttered around them. “How can you trust him?”
“Where do you think he got the information?” Angela’s tone was cool. “I could have announced it, let Dale be killed too when the camp strung Dennis up. Would that have been better?”
Ray shook his head in weary frustration. “I can’t go with you.”
Angela had been expecting that. “It’s your choice. It always has been. Gather a team for a manhunt. Chris is scared of ghosts down there.”
“Ghosts of those he’s killed?”
The vet didn’t respond to Ray’s bitterness.
Angela didn’t either.
Ray stormed from the chamber to do as he’d been told, furious and without an outlet.
Let him lead the team.
Marc agreed with Angela’s mental suggestion. Ray needed to vent his anger on someone.
The vet went back into the kitchen to curl up and sleep.
Daddy! Help me!
Marc groaned as a crushing sensation settled into his chest and tore his heart apart.
Help me, daddy!
Marc ran, beating Ray and everyone else to the ladder.
Angela gestured Eagles along, also reeling from the desperation in Cody’s message. It wasn’t pain, but horrible sadness that another parent might fail him. Angela wanted to be with them, but she wouldn’t be able to keep up with Marc. Only a few of their military men or fathers might be able to.
I can…if you want.
Yes, please.
Kenn’s heavy boots went stomping by the mess.
Trusting Kenn to help, Angela waved at nervous camp members gathering in the mess entrance. “We have the images from outside. You can view them if you want to. You won’t be able to eat afterward.”
Distracted, a small group went to the laptop that Kenn had set up in the far corner. Angela hadn’t asked why he’d decided to put it in here, but assumed it was a wire issue. To get power to other levels, Theo and Ozzie’s team had been splicing and dicing. They were working long hours to accomplish that.
“Oh, my God!”
The woman’s exclamation drew the rest of the camp over to the small screen.
Angela didn’t stay for the reactions. Once people got over revulsion of the bodies, happiness would come that another enemy had fallen. Then, they would begin to wonder what kind of a leader could let so many Americans die such a horrible death. If my herd gets any thinner, it won’t survive on the island.
3
Many of the bottom floor residents jumped up in fear as Marc slid down the ladder and ran to the rear corridor. It was worrisome to witness him panicking. They’d known the man to always be cool and calm unless Angela was in danger.
Jimmy didn’t glance up from his examination of Samantha’s leg. He could only handle one problem at a time and that’s what he was doing.
Marc barely noticed the reactions or smells as he ran into their impromptu morgue, but it was a nightmare without his grid or his demon. Like when he’d been alone after the war, Marc had to force himself to keep going. Back then, it had been letters for missing Americans tugging on his guts. This time, corpses glared at him with unforgiving accusations. Cody could be buried under any of the rotting bodies, but Marc was counting on the kidnapper wanting a descendant to help them survive in the wilderness. Greg and Logan were both smart enough to pull it off, but Marc had figured out which one was guilty. What he didn’t understand, was why.
Marc jumped over three corpses, recognizing all of them. Workers had been careful about stacking the bodies at first, but after bringing fifty friends down, they had been tired and depressed, just wanting to be done. The result was a four-foot high wall that was ten bodies wide, surrounded by haphazard piles and shorter stacks in horrible stages of decomposition.
Disrespectful.
Marc shoved the thought away. Disrespectful would be what came after the stacking.
Marc ran by the bodies, but there was no time for planning as the passage ended in a wider area that was blocked by the cave-in debris that had trapped the Mexicans. The pit where workers had dumped the Mexican bodies was along the wall. Next to the pit, Logan was crouched down, holding something.
Marc’s gut twisted as he realized it was Cody. Logan was holding him by a thin wrist, dangling the boy over open space. If Marc attacked, Logan would let Cody fall.
Cody whimpered, but he didn’t struggle. Logan’s grip wasn’t steady.
In the corner, Tonya’s mangy cat observed the scene with glittering yellow orbs.
“I wasn’t certain that you cared.” Logan saw Marc’s arrival. “That’s why I took the medicine too. Even if you don’t want the boy, you need the medicine.”
Logan didn’t appear to have slept since the quake. He glared at Marc through bloodshot, angry eyes that held no trace of their previous friendship. “What do you want?”
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Logan let out a weary sigh. “To go back in time.”
Marc used his alpha command. “Pull him up right now! You don’t have the strength to hold him. Your arm is shaking.”
Logan did lift the boy, but only enough that Cody’s terrified little face came above the edge of the pit. “Make me one of you.”
Marc didn’t betray his fear. That was something none of them could do, so he lied. “We’ll need the alpha.”
“Then you’d better get her down here. Not working out daily has cost muscle mass.” Logan heard more steps coming toward them and flinched, grip tightening. “Please help me. I don’t know what’s going on.”
Marc swept the man again, recognizing Logan’s pre-quake clothes. He hadn’t slept, changed, or eaten. All of those were bad, but the insanity peering from Logan’s eyes spoke louder. In that moment, Marc recognized the symptoms of mountain sickness. “I’ll help you. We can help you.”
Logan snorted in soft resignation. “Death by Brady or retraining by Kenn. Not much of a choice.”
“There are other options.” Marc wanted to get closer. He also wanted to use his grid to discover where his backup was, but he didn’t take his attention off Logan. If the man let go, Marc would follow his son. He hoped the bodies down there might break Cody’s fall. “You need to rest. It doesn’t have to be this ugly.” Marc used a light wave of this new gift, trying to get Logan to snap into himself. “Let me help you.”
Logan didn’t feel anything but anger. “Like you helped Tim?”
Marc sent a stronger wave. “He was a traitor. You have an illness. You’re sick.”
“Stop saying that!”
Tonya’s cat fled at the shouting, staying along the wall to duck into a crevice and vanish.
Logan’s arm shook as he stared in hatred. “You caused this. It started when you picked Quinn over me.”
Bangs and clangs sounded, telling them repairs were continuing. For an instant, Logan’s eyes flickered with horror and awareness, and then he shut down. “Make me a descendant.”
