by Angela White
“Keep the kid.” Too aware of time running out, Marc sent a mental order and spun toward his surprised men.
Logan gawked in confusion. “What?”
“I’ll post guards here so when you come out from hunger, you’ll be shot. There’s no reason for me to stay.”
“I’ll drop him!”
Marc shrugged at the scream. “I’ll make a new one.”
Desperate to stop Marc from leaving, Logan yanked the whimpering boy up and wrapped his big arms around Cody’s little neck. “Come back or I’ll snap it!”
“Like this?” Kenn reached out and snatched Logan into his bigger arms.
Logan’s hands came up, attempting to reestablish an air supply.
Cody dropped to the rocky ground, gasping.
Kenn twisted, using a burst of strength the struggling man couldn’t fight. The crack was awful.
Marc rushed to check Cody for injuries while the rest of the hunting party provided security or resumed their posts.
Ray didn’t stare at Dale’s den as he went up the ladder.
Dale stared until Ray was out of sight.
4
“Are you okay?”
The little boy held onto Marc’s arm. “I don’t feel good.” Cody threw up, splattering them both.
“Ugh. Sorry.”
Marc scooped the boy up. “No worries, son. It all comes off in the wash.” Marc switched the boy to his back.
Cody held onto his father with a relentless grip as Marc climbed the ladder, followed by an Eagle escort. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
Marc missed a step and slipped, hand coming up to catch Cody. “It’s okay. That’s not your job.”
“I’m also sorry for what my mom did to you.”
“Also not your fault. When you’re older, we’ll discuss that, but I didn’t leave you then either. She stole you from me.”
Cody wasn’t ready to talk about his mom yet. “You lied a lot to Logan.”
“Yes. Thank you for knowing it wasn’t true.”
“I did, but the other man told me that too. He’s happy now.”
“What do you mean, now?” Marc sat the boy on his feet as they reached the mess level. “You didn’t know Kenn before.”
“I mean since the earthquake.”
“When his gift arrived?”
“I guess.” Cody tried to fix his collar with his left hand.
“Here.” Marc helped Cody take off the splattered jacket and then guided the boy into the mess. He wanted to watch him walk to determine if there were other injuries.
Angela was by the entrance with her medical kit. She knelt down in front of the boy, noting how calm he was. He’s a Brady. “Not upset, huh?”
Cody shook his head, watching Angela’s orbs sink into his wrist as Marc and Kenn blocked the camp’s view. “My daddy’s a badass.”
The other adults laughed while Marc breathed a sigh of relief that he had retrieved the child.
“You’re pretty scrappy yourself.” Angela wrapped a loose bandage around Cody’s wrist, glad she’d had her medical bag with the kits on the top floor.
“You have a sprained wrist and a nasty scrape on your ankle, but you’ll be fine.” Angela took the bag from Kenn, glad it wasn’t covered in Logan’s blood. Thank you for making it quick.
Kenn nodded at her and went to get Marc a cup of coffee. He could hear the man wishing for something to soothe his nerves. Kenn wanted that too. When Marc was twitchy, everyone was twitchy.
Becoming aware of stares from camp members who had watched the laptop feed, Angela walked toward the exit. She’d returned when Marc did, so that she could examine Cody. Marc didn’t trust Jimmy with his son since the doctor disliked descendants.
“Stop.”
Angela paused, heart pounding. “Why? They’re already afraid of me.”
“We respect you for making hard choices.” Marc hoped saying it would make it true for the camp and for her. It already was for him. “You did it for our survival. We know that. We also know it hurts you.”
Angela fell back in love with Marc in that moment. Her aching soul rushed out to connect with his in a flash of need and completion.
Angela locked down on her emotions and sat at the table by Cody, obeying Marc’s wishes. She hadn’t wanted to hide at all, but her worry over his opinion had clouded everything. She’d assumed he was disgusted by her callousness when the camp was threatened.
Never. Marc sent his own wave of love and need. You’re my Angie.
My Brady.
“My God!” Cynthia entered the mess, sarcasm carrying. “How is anyone supposed to eat with that mushy crap going on?”
Cynthia had traded the medical gown for dirty clothes, shunning the spare Eagle clothes. So far, she’d adjusted well to waking up in this situation, but everyone was watching for signs that her mountain sickness wasn’t under control. Jimmy couldn’t cure it, but he could drug them. That came with a new set of problems.
Cynthia gave Marc a wide berth after getting a cup of coffee. She was lucky to be both alive and still pregnant. That was making it possible for her to control herself. If Angela wanted the baby dead, he would have been killed in the quake.
“I’ve got room here.”
Angela’s offer brought silence from those observing and sent Cody to a different table. He didn’t like Cynthia.
Cynthia had tensed, flushing at Cody’s denial of her company, but she accepted that he was Marc’s son and she had tried to kill Marc. His reaction was reasonable.
“Is that a good idea?” Kenn frowned as the reporter carried her cup toward the boss. “She has a sentry, but I don’t think we should let her around any of the council.”
Angela waved off Kenn’s concern. “She’s been ill. Let’s treat her like it.”
Kenn shrugged at the lie. He hadn’t hesitated to kill Logan and that man had been sick with the mountain disease that caused paranoid, schizophrenic behavior. Kenn wouldn’t hesitate with Cynthia either. Her baby wasn’t strong enough to kill, not even in defense. It would be over quick, like Angela would want.
Are you sure?
Kenn ignored his demon’s warning, loathing that evil. It had been in his mind every time he’d beaten on someone, spurring him on. It was a shame that he would never escape.
Can I keep my gift if I banish the monster? Kenn stewed on it as he went to do a round of the cave.
His demon didn’t speak again. It was too scared.
Angela marked that off her list as something else that had never been done with descendants, but Kenn’s reform was something she would continue to monitor. If he ever showed signs of reverting, she would kill him herself. Old debts had been overlooked, but nothing had been forgotten.
Chapter Sixteen
More Questions Than Answers
1
“This is Seth. Come in, Safe Haven.” Multiple radios crackled with the cheerful voice. “Hello, Safe Haven?”
Angela grunted in frustration as the call echoed across the mess of citizens eating oatmeal from dented plastic cups. They went from watching council members and kids, to staring at her with pleading expressions and thoughts.
Angela shook her head at Kenn, who had stopped at the call. “We can’t. The UN is monitoring all broadcasts.”
“When will Kendle arrive?” Kenn tried to help by diverting the camp’s focus.
“Three or four days.” Angela’s tone was sharp due to her previous thoughts. “We’ll clear the blockage while everyone out there is distracted.”
“Will we have enough time?” Kenn assumed Angela was ready for his leading questions. Adrian always had been at this point.
Angela observed Cody and Missy playing tic-tac-toe on the dirty floor. The thin boy didn’t appear upset by his ordeal, just glad that Marc had cared enough to come for him. “The waiting isn’t over for us yet, but it is close. In less than a week, anyone who wants
to go will be able to.”
Doug stomped from the mess without speaking to anyone.
Angela understood his reaction. Doug was guilty because he was relieved by the decision not to answer Seth’s call. He didn’t want Becky to know her mom was dead. Doug hoped the girl would recover from everything she’d been through since the war. Peggy’s death might derail that.
Subdued conversations and noises floated through the air, but it wasn’t the happy chatter of before. This was a tense feeding at a waterhole known for taking lives without warning.
We have to stop eating in here now.
I’ll figure something out. The floor collapsing had ruined this space for anything except storage and preparation, and even those chores would be handled with mistrustful glances. Marc was glad people weren’t blaming the crew who had installed both floors. They understood the earthquake and structure of the mountain were at fault.
They should. Kenn joked from across the mess. You’ve had the Eagles say that enough.
Marc grinned and went back to scanning. The odorless, tasteless oatmeal was even being eaten by the kids today. It was all they had and bellies were growling.
Angela hated that, but ration conditions were required. The oatmeal was healthy, which would keep her workers on their feet where she needed them. Hoping to get reluctant individuals to follow her lead, Angela made a show of eating her cup. The faces were almost real. I hate this stuff.
In two weeks, you’ll have cinnamon rolls.
Angela squinted at Kenn, stomach queasing as the thick goo hit bottom. How?
We’re entering a cinnamon growing zone for the US. It needs special conditions. We’re almost certain to locate a farm that’s been overlooked.
Angela felt her spirits lift a bit. In winter?
It’ll be warmer once we’re off this mountain.
Angela had forgotten that some southern areas didn’t get much snow or cold.
Thank you.
For what? Kenn was confused.
For giving me something good to think about. Spread it around about the warmer temperatures where we’re going. If I’ve forgotten it, so have they and we need all the good vibes we can make.
A woman’s throaty chuckle rang out, drawing their attention. Gus was joking with his mate, putting her in a good mood to start the day. He and Britani were in the corner by the charred, dark kitchen, laboring from a set of long tables piled with cups, sporks, oatmeal packets, and pans of boiling water on hot plates. That corner of the mess almost had a smell other than smoke or sweat, but a few steps away lost that scent. The entire cave system was beginning to reek. The lack of illnesses and fast recovering wounded were bright spots, but Marc knew the calm wouldn’t last. All of their problems were going to converge if they didn’t get a handle on them soon.
Speaking of future problems. Marc scanned for the person giving off the unstable vibes slapping him, waking his demon, and found two. It wasn’t hard to determine which woman was the threat.
Sitting by herself, Candy listened to the whispers in her mind. One was arguing in favor of killing Angela to escape this tomb. The other said if she could be strong enough to hold on for one more week, she would regain control of her sanity.
Angela gestured Kenn toward Candy. “Put her to work on something–today.”
Kenn went that way. The hairdresser wasn’t speaking to anyone or making eye contact, and her appearance was worse than most of the camp despite her not being awake for the quake. It appeared as though she’d been rooting around in debris piles on her hands and knees.
“Must be nice to be queen.”
Angela studied Cynthia, changing her mind about putting the reporter to work yet. Cynthia wasn’t stable. “It must be nice to blame everyone else for your choices.”
Cynthia flushed. “Why didn’t you kill me?”
Angela sighed. She was tired of that question. Can’t they just be glad that I didn’t?
“For the same reason I didn’t eliminate Candy and others. We need you.”
“Our duty to the kingdom isn’t over?” Cynthia couldn’t stop being snarky. It was all she had left in her heart. Waking up to find the camp destroyed and her hold over Angela reduced to ashes was hard to swallow.
“Our duty to humanity.” Angela stood up, sensing Cynthia needed space more than insult slinging. “I believe that.”
Cynthia let her go, brooding. If she was wrong about Angela, she had a lot to make up for. If she discovered she was right, there was a queen to behead.
“Don’t make me kill you.”
Cynthia froze at Marc’s growled threat in her ear.
Marc leaned down so that he wasn’t overheard. “You don’t have mountain sickness as an excuse. You’re being corrupted by Adrian’s evil seed.” Marc patted her dusty shoulder, making the reporter jump. “If you can’t be loyal, be very careful to follow every single rule. I can change Angela’s mind about you with one sentence.”
“What’s that?”
I don’t trust you around our people.
Marc left the reporter sitting there with a pale face and a mind full of confusion. Like everyone else, he was surprised that Angela was giving the reporter another chance.
Do you really feel that way? Angela was in the drafty corridor, trying not to be drawn into a deeper depression at the sight of dirty stuffed animals piled by the reading chamber. Many of their owners were no longer alive to love them.
Marc wrapped his arms around Angela and buried his nose in her hair. I don’t trust any of them, vetted or not. You shouldn’t either.
Angela hated it, but he was right. The inhabitants here couldn’t be trusted. They weren’t killers or traitors, but they were dangerous because they were so scared. In fact, that might make them even more of a threat than the UN.
“One more week. Then we’re clear for…” Angela paused, mind taking her into the future.
Marc waited, sweeping guards and people around them. There was curiosity and relief, but there was also resentment and jealousy in their minds. Everyone wanted the powers of a descendant.
“Are we ever going to get a break?!”
Angela complaining while in a trance shook Marc more than her tears might have. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Angela connected their minds. “We’re being sent to Market Town.”
Marc caught images of Eagles ramming tall gates to kill almost everyone. “What reason could we have for…” Marc picked out signs of slavery and felt anger rise to smother protests of more killing. “Damn it!”
Angela agreed. She was beyond tired of this job, but she would do it until she was dead.
Angela noted that this tunnel had a sentry. It was more than they could spare from crews, but Marc had put a trusted man here anyway. Daryl was loyal to both of them, so she didn’t need to censor her words. “Get a plan ready for it? Since we’re the power on US soil, we have to handle it.”
“I will.” Marc kissed her cheek and then her lips. “Come back and eat more goo?”
Angela grinned, trying to force light into their lives. “Maybe you should get a shower...”
“Yeah. You too, now that I’ve dirtied you up again.”
Angela took his hand and led him toward the ladder. “You wash mine…”
Marc was chuckling as he descended, but he understood what she was doing. Each level they went down revealed more misery than the floor before it. If these people didn’t get a break soon, the council wouldn’t be able to bring the camp together. Angela wanted to show them that no matter how ugly it got, life had to continue. It was okay to take a break, but giving up wasn’t an option.
2
Angela entered the dank monitoring cubby where Samantha was on duty and shut the door before anyone except the guards saw her.
“Sorry, we’re closed.” Samantha knew she sounded curt and tried again. “I have to eat. Come back later.”
Angela fastened the thin barrier, aware of how it muffled the sounds of her huge camp. She
needed it to do the same from the outside.
Samantha swiveled around to get mean. She had to talk– “Oh, good, it’s you.” Samantha grabbed a paper from the neat desk. “We have another problem.”
Angela took the satellite image that had been printed.
“I’ve been studying that picture.” Samantha pointed to the center. “Yellowstone is still active.”
Angela sank down into the empty chair. “We need to talk.”
“You know something.”
Angela couldn’t hide her mental agony. “There’s little that I don’t see, Sam.”
Samantha started to make connections, but Angela wasn’t positive there was enough time to let her. Death was flying toward them, rushing over the broken country like a plague. “I need you to help me make a choice.”
“What kind of choice?” Samantha asked warily. The last time she’d had this conversation with Angela, it had led to awful destruction.
“As it will this time.” Angela put the paper into a pile on the desk, lining up the edges. “I need to know if the benefits outweigh the crimes.”
“Is there another choice?”
“There’s always a choice.” Angela motioned to the dark monitors. “We can fight.”
Samantha blanched. “Next?”
“We hide in here and try to survive what’s coming. People will die in either case.”
“Numbers, then.” Samantha concentrated. “Which one saves the most?”
“Exactly. Except…” Angela tried to hold in the tears. “It hurts too much this time.”
Samantha assumed Angela had come to her for strength. “There’s nothing I can say that will make it okay if you don’t tell the camp. Not letting them make their own choice is wrong if it’s life and death.”
“I know.” Angela was certain Samantha would catch on, but worried Jeremy or Neil would interrupt them before she could finish this horrid business.
“Are you talking to other people tonight?”
“Yes, some.”
Sam’s pale face went green. “My clock stopped.”
Angela’s tears came. They rolled over her cheeks in fat drops of remorse and grief. “I’m sorry.”
