Adrian's Eagles: Book Four (Life After War)

by White, Angela

  “What’s that sound?”

  They stilled at her question, able to feel it under their feet, even so far above the town. It echoed hungrily, bearing down on Howes like a missile.

  “What is it?”

  No one answered. They couldn’t, too stunned by the sight of death rushing toward the unsuspecting group of killers. The transport truck was next to cross, one jeep already waiting on the opposite bank, and none of them seemed to notice the louder roar or the extra echo under their tires.

  The wall of debris-laden water swept downstream, wider than the bank as it slammed into the first bridge pillar with no mercy. The jeep on the opposite bank vanished under the flood and didn’t come back up.

  The bridge trembled, swaying as the sabotaged beams gave way and the transport carrier tilted precariously over the new abyss.

  The wall of water snagged the front bumper, ripping it free of the dock, and the entire load of truck, tank, and bridge fell into the violently churning waves.

  Behind it, the Slavers tried to turn around, but most were too slow to avoid being swept away. The only ones to get clear were the two rear jeeps and as if sensing survivors, the torrent spilt between the dock and street, roaring through the narrow road in pursuit.

  Adrian’s semi was pulled out by the waves, and the slower of the two jeeps turned sharply to the right to miss crashing into it. The tail lights flashed as the driver tried to stop, but it was too late and they went over the side of the dock. A huge spray rose up in their wake.

  The second jeep was gaining ground on the water, staying ahead, and Adrian grabbed the rifle from his back.

  “Follow my lead.” He got set and Kenn and Marc did the same on either side of him.

  Neil was almost whining with frustration from not being in on the action, but he knew better than to shirk his unspoken duty to protect Angela right now and he stayed close to her.

  Making fast adjustments, Adrian braced as the jeep charged up the hill they were on. “Now!” Adrian saw it go perfectly in his mind, and then fired.

  The shot punched into the windshield, instantly spraying the inside with scarlet gore, and the jeep veered violently to the left. The two men inside scrambling for the wheel jerked simultaneously as two more shots tore into the vehicle.

  Out of control, the jeep rammed up onto a downed tree, and lifted off the ground. It slammed back to the earth in a loud, metal-spraying crash, landing on its top.

  The flattened vehicle rolled once, this time ending up in the mud-slickened grass and it began to flip back down the hill, scattering debris. The survivors watched in shock as it hit the flooded main street and sank into the merciless waves still thundering through the town.

  Overhead, the storm abated.

  Adrian forced himself to turn away from the death, refusing to shoulder it yet. There would be more of that. “Next time, we’ll take them all.”

  He slapped Kenn and Marc on the shoulder and moved toward Angela, re-slinging his weapon. “Let’s get home. Mission accomplished.”

  Angela fell in between him and Marc at Kenn’s wave, and tried to prepare herself for a short, miserably happy walk to catch up with the others. They were safe again for a little while.

  “And next time?” the Witch asked curiously. “What then?”

  “Next time, I’ll do my part and no one will hold me back.”

  3

  Doug had done a good job of covering for their absence. By the time the team returned, the big Irishman had camp set up in the basement of a steel distributer. Happily exploring the undamaged factory, most of the camp thought Adrian was helping out on watch until the men with car trouble could catch up.

  When he finally slipped inside, soaked and red eyed, no one questioned. It was the same for the Eagles, and the camp slept easier knowing how many high level men had been watching out for them. Even Angela’s absence was covered with a few words about being on duty.

  The only members not fooled were Cynthia and Rick. Both of them had been wandering during the lack of leadership and knew Adrian hadn’t been in camp. The reporter assumed it was another of the blond Leader’s private training sessions, but Rick wondered if it had been more. He had seen the small convoy arrive and the traitor knew what the crash after a battle looked and felt like. Had Adrian foiled Cesar’s plans somehow?

  If so, it had been without the notice of anyone in camp. Rick decided he would have to make contact as soon as Adrian lifted the blackout. He knew something wasn’t right; he couldn’t verify it unless he found a guard with a loose tongue and knowing if he was now on his own was a valuable piece of information to have.

  Things had worked out even better than Adrian had hoped. They could relax for a few days once they made it to the stateline for pickups he had chosen from the mental map Angela had given him. Out of the three places he’d tried so far, two had held people willing to come along without much convincing. The third, they’d made stubborn contact with once, and tried to tell of the danger coming, but without any luck. They would try once more before dropping back down into Nebraska, but they didn’t have to run for their lives now.

  Unlike the Slavers, he and his army knew how to use the tools of the government, and one of their trucks held a pontoon setup. They would double back and avoid the badlands meeting that Cesar was sure to be hoping for. It would put weeks of distance between the two groups, and if the Slavers went far enough north, the radiation zones might even take care of the problem for them.

  4

  “Why have we stopped?”

  Dean was shouting to be heard over the wind and the angry Mexicans around him scowled, but didn’t interfere. The black man had lost track of Safe Haven in the storm and wanted to keep following even though there was no longer a bridge to cross. He didn’t care that the tank team still wasn’t answering their calls or that it appeared a destructive battle had happened at this crossing recently. All he could see was revenge.

  “Hey!”

  José stepped in front of Dean before he could grab Cesar’s arm. “Stop shouting!”

  Dean gave the scarred man a hard shove. “Move!”

  Not expecting it, José toppled backward into the mud and the men watching grunted in cruel amusement.

  Dean moved toward Cesar again and José picked himself up with cold fury, drenched in the brown muck.

  The remaining twin heard him coming and spun around, swinging from the hip.

  José hit the ground again with a wet slap and the laughter increased.

  “Stay down, Josey!” Dean snarled, heading back toward the Mexican Leader who had finally turned to see what was causing the laughter.

  Humiliated, José’s hand went for his pistol and the laughter stopped.

  Just as he fired, Dean lunged for the muddy ground and the slug pinged harmlessly off of Cesar’s hood. Up in a moment, Dean stalked back to the younger man with no signs he feared the weapon still aimed at him.

  José panicked, pulling the trigger again, and men ducked as the shot went wild.

  Dean hit the mud again for the next bullet, rolling to avoid another, and then he was on his feet and coming in at a fast run.

  José screamed in rage and fear, firing. The slug hit the furious devil flying his way, but it didn’t stop him!

  Dean half spun as the bullet tore through his upper arm and he rolled as José fired a last time. That Mexican would die now!

  He dove at the ugly fighter, twisting to miss the knife, and then he was hitting José’s face.

  It was Cesar who reluctantly saved his cousin’s life. He had no doubts José was after command, but he wasn’t through with the youngster yet. When he was, the real lesson would be taught and it wouldn’t come from this angry soldier.

  Cesar stepped over to Dean with a fast move his men both admired and feared, and wrapped him up tightly.

  Dean struggled against the blade for only a minute, the words sinking in. “His life is mine. So is yours!”

  Cesar tossed him roughly away and
the men surrounding them had their weapons pointed at Dean’s head before he gained his feet.

  Dean’s dark eyes glittered with hate, but some of his anger was eased by the sight of the blood José was spitting at his boots. There would be more of that.

  “We stop when I say, go when I say.”

  José had pushed himself up, hand inching toward his spare gun and Cesar delivered a brutal kick to his ribs that sent him rolling into the crowd, where he was stomped on when he tried to get to his feet.

  “Stay down!” Cesar barked. “I will deal with you!”

  The Leader turned back to see Dean grinning and the Guerilla eyed the black man thoughtfully. “His pain makes you happy?”

  “It’s second only to hers.”

  Cesar moved closer, gold tooth glinting, “I have promised you her death. Do not make me kill you before I can keep my word.”

  “Don’t underestimate them, Cesar.” Dean tried to reason with the Slaver, much calmer with so many guns pointed his way. “Hit them now, while they’re on the road.”

  Cesar snorted. “With what? Our tank and team is missing and there is no bridge to cross. We will have to go around and these men desire a break first.”

  There were mutters of agreement that told the evil leader he’d made the right choice. Passing that town, sparing those survivors so he could get close enough to attack Safe Haven, had been a mistake, but he would fix it right now.

  “We will circle back to where they were hiding in the church and spend a few days teaching them our religion.”

  The Slaver waited for the cheers to die down. The unrest of his men had caused him to consider their wants and now that he had, Cesar liked his new plan better. “I will have them, but it does not have to be tonight señor. We have nothing but time now, si? Time while Richard throw them in chaos.”

  Dean’s growl was the only protest he made and Cesar waved a hand. “You will go find them and keep me informed.”

  Dean stalked off without another word and Cesar wondered if he would do it. There was a stiffness to his stride that said he wasn’t coming back without a good reason. Not that it mattered. Once these men had been rested, the Slaver would put them back on the trail of Safe Haven. He had realized he’d rushed them, and made a foolish choice he couldn’t afford to repeat unless he wanted to be taking his cousin’s orders. The men didn’t like José, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t follow if his deal was better.

  Chapter Seven

  April 11th, 2013

  1

  “They need you…”

  The words flew through the fog, stealing her breath.

  “You have to go back!”

  Kendle jerked upright, startled from her nightmare by the sound of it. She shivered in the darkness, trying to make herself remember exactly who (what) had been speaking to her from the mist.

  She glanced at the dim firelight and the cabin door, seeing everything was in its place. She listened for the sound of Luke’s breathing below her. It was even, calm, and Kendle forced herself to lie back down.

  Just a dream, she told herself, over and over until her lids began to droop and she yawned. “Just a dream.”

  “They need you…”

  Her eyes flew open to see Ethan’s leering face inches from hers.

  “You have to go back!” He lunged for her throat, infected fingers reaching out.

  Kendle screamed, waking herself up.

  LJ was out of the bunk and half pulling her into his arms an instant later and Kendle clung to him, hand in her mouth to stifle a second scream.

  Luke rocked her as best he could. When she shuddered, he gently pulled her into his big arms and headed for the chair, dragging her quilt along.

  She melted into his lap as he settled in the recliner, a huddling ball of live nerves. He rubbed her back as he got them rocking. “Shhh...”

  Kendle sucked in a tortured breath, keeping her hand close to her mouth. Not the worst by far, it was still among her least favorite of repeat dreams and she tried to concentrate on the steady beat of LJ’s heart under her cheek.

  Luke wanted to tell her she could talk about it, but didn’t, sure she wasn’t the kind to do that anymore than he was. Some things you had to suffer through as best you could. Her nightmares came often, though most didn’t end with a shriek. He hated feeling helpless, but didn’t know what else he could do for her. Their garden was full of half foot high seedlings in uneven rows that they tended daily. They were shopping with the crazy woman across the creek so they didn’t have to have fish every night. Other than that, it was just them, alone together.

  Luke shifted at that thought. She hadn’t come to him yet, but he’d seen the light growing. Soon, he would make her his and then things would get complicated. Because once she regained her self-confidence, she’d want to go home and he would never be able to let her do that alone.

  Kendle felt the warm comfort of his big body and the soothing motions of the chair, but the fear had turned into desperate worry. She’d had the Ethan dream for last three nights and though LJ thought it was her mind mixing things together, Kendle wasn’t sure. The Island Playboy hadn’t even spoken to her again after telling her she should be with her own kind, but there’d been twice yesterday that she was sure she was being observed as they worked on the garden. After so much time alone, it was a feeling that was impossible to miss and she worried things weren’t over with the Kraft heir.

  Speaking of Kraft heirs, she thought, seeing the Sheriff in her mind. It hadn’t occurred to her while they were there, but if Jenna was the Mayor’s daughter, then Cole was his nephew. The sheriff was also a Kraft and therefore, couldn’t be trusted. There was a lot going on here that Luke didn’t want to talk about, didn’t want her to become a part of, but Kendle feared their involvement might be mandatory.

  Then there was the stress of her new obsession. Finding a way home was something she’d begun to worry over. She hadn’t talked to LJ about it yet, but was sure he suspected why she now insisted they spend every free moment working out or running through the jungles. She was slowly getting stronger and he had to know something was coming.

  “You want a pill?”

  Kendle shook her head, grip on him tightening, “No.”

  Luke shifted again, settling her further back onto his lap and he rocked them, eyes closed. The feel of her in his arms was wonderful. She smelled so good! Like ripe berries in the sun that needed to be picked and he let his mind wander their previous kisses. Any day now, she’d be his and for a little while, he would be happy.

  “Are you worried?” he asked suddenly.

  She didn’t lie. “A bit.”

  The town was gathering for a meeting about the lack of contact with the outside world, and Luke planned to voice his own theories, no matter how unpopular. There were less than 100 people here, but that didn’t mean they were helpless. If War had destroyed their homelands, didn’t that give them a duty to offer shelter to those left?

  That was a question most of Pitcairn had been pondering since Mayor Kraft called the town meeting. They were gathering in the backyard of his estate and that was the part Kendle was dreading the most. After the nightmares, it didn’t matter if Ethan never leered at her again. She wanted nothing to do with him and that included being on his property.

  “I’ll be…looking after you while we’re there. Try not to get out of my sight.”

  She was relieved to know he had felt the same menace from their hand-delivered invitation. The sight of those three green-eyed men on muddy dirt bikes had sent a chill into Kendle and she had instinctively backed out of the doorway to let Luke handle it.

  “Unless you’d rather I stayed away from you while people are around.”

  Kendle raised her head, mouth opened in shock, “I’d never treat you that…”

  Luke sealed their lips at her denial, finally accepting she would always be on his side. When she tightened her grip, he deepened their kiss. He wanted her so much!

  Kend
le felt the shudder of need run through him and moaned in response, pressing her body to his. With that huge hand tangled in her spikes and the other crushing her close, she couldn’t move far and was glad when he drew back and let her breathe. As soon as she could, she assaulted him the same way, not letting him move until she was full of his taste.

  Luke grinned as they broke apart, painfully hard against her thigh. “Still worried?”

  She leaned down to place a kiss at the base of his throat. “I don’t want to hide this, when we go.”

  Before he could protest, she used her tongue to taste his throat, and felt him tense under her, fighting for control. “I mean it, Luke.”

  She drew back. “The people here like to gossip.” She smiled softly. “Let’s give ‘em a reason. We’ll be nothing more or less than what we are.”

  He shrugged, loving and hating the image. “Not a good idea, darling. These people can be cruel.”

  “Do we need them for anything?”

  Luke considered that question very carefully, wanting to be open about their growing relationship as much as she did. “I’m not sure…”

  “I am.”

  He studied her intently, seeing the rings of contentment around her pupils and the dilation from hormonal responses, and still shook his head. “It’ll hurt you later, if we’re wrong about the War.”

  “We’re not and it wouldn’t matter anyway. You say no because of your past, not my future.”

  She moved out of his arms and back toward her own bed. “And I won’t give myself to a man who makes me hide our love in public.”

  “What did you say?”

  Kendle wasn’t sure of his mood now, she’d never been sharp with him before, and she kept walking without answering.

  “Kendle.”

  He was right over her shoulder, steps silent in the dark and she stopped, but didn’t turn.

  “Did you say…love?”

  She was saved from answering by a knock at the door and LJ spun towards it with a frown, ready to growl at whoever had interrupted them.