The Survivors: Book One

by Angela White

  “Been doing it a long time. Saw no reason to change,” he stated carefully, slowing down his hands on the gun. This was going to take a while.

  “What’s your rank?”

  “I was a Sergeant.”

  She looked at him curiously, “Why only an E5?”

  He was surprised again by her knowledge, and he shrugged, heart starting to worry. Was her man military too? “I disobeyed a direct order too many times.”

  “When did you enlist?” She hated herself for being unable to stop the old Angela from asking, but couldn’t deny the need to know.

  Marc snorted, and noticed she jumped, but said nothing. She’d just been attacked. She had every reason to be a little jumpy.

  “I didn’t,” his voice was heavy with sarcasm. “It was either put in my time, or go to prison for statutory rape. I’ve been a jarhead for fifteen years.”

  Her eyes were guarded. Fifteen years. Right after they were caught in her bedroom.

  “The first year was bad, but I learned not to draw fire, and I made a life. I do... did things that most people can’t even imagine.”

  “Sounds like you’ve enjoyed it.”

  “For the most part, I did. It was good, knowing I was making a difference.” Marc tried to get her to meet his eye. “What about you, Angie? Have you been okay?”

  The question was abrupt and she lowered her eyes, trying hard to control her voice as she answered, “It’s had good days and bad days.”

  Simple. He studied the bags beneath her long, dark lashes, the broken, jagged fingernails, and the unhealthy color of her pale skin. Too simple.

  “More bad than good, right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have called me.”

  She nodded, but didn’t give any details and Marc felt guilt roll over him as if she were screaming. “I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”

  Angela lit a smoke, annoyed that he wasn’t clear on what he was sorry for. Did he regret loving her or not coming back? “I don’t need your apology, just your help.”

  Their eyes touched, and he gave her a small smile. “I will if I can. Tell me.”

  She let out a deep sigh that told him he wouldn’t like any of it, and as with the note, he read between her words and missed little.

  “I left some things out of the letter. Important to you and me, but it’s nothing my son needs to have confirmed and feel bad for."

  Marc waved a hand, understanding what she wanted from him as the wind gusted. It moved things around outside and caused her to flinch and Dog to continue pacing restlessly, picking up on her tension. “This all stays between us. My word.”

  Angela inhaled, blew out a thick cloud of smoke. “We’ve been living with a man named Kenny for the last fourteen years. We met at the hospital where I gave birth. He was there for rehab on his arm. I had just talked my way into a job as a lab assistant, running packages between floors to pay for my medical classes. He seemed normal enough, safe, dependable, and I ended up telling him everything one night on my break," she paused and sucked in a breath.

  "He acted horrified that I was a single, underage mother on the run, living in a sleazy hotel, working ten hour shifts, and then putting in another six hours, four days a week in classes. Was scandalized I had to have the hotel manager's drunken sister and teenage daughter babysit."

  “And the concerned Samaritan offered you a deal you couldn’t refuse.”

  She nodded and the hate in her eyes left no doubt. He’d been forced to leave her, and she had been hurt. Marc braced himself. “What was the deal?”

  She met his eyes with pain that he knew wasn't faked. “Me. I had to accept him as my owner until my son turned nineteen.”

  “Nineteen?”

  Angela crushed out her butt, opened a flat, black case to pull out a thick, neatly rolled blunt. Outside, the wind howled in warning, but neither of them noticed. “He said the extra year was his bonus for being such a good citizen. He never let me forget he was caring for someone’s bastard.”

  Fury filled Marc’s heart, but he could say nothing. After all, it was true. “So what do you need me for?”

  His voice was a bit more defensive than she cared for and Angela lit the weed, inhaled before answering. Getting mad here wouldn’t help.

  When she passed the joint, he saw how careful she was not to touch him at all.

  “Help me get my son back. Clearly I’m not cut out for the trek.”

  “So just for the trip?”

  She met his gaze, shaking her head. “No, probably not. Kenny’s a Marine too. My son’s a cadet. They’re together now, in Western Utah, and Kenn can be… harsh when he doesn’t get his way.”

  His worry confirmed, Marc didn’t respond, mind busy running over what that confrontation might be like. She wanted him to challenge a fellow Marine. He could do that, but only for the right reasons.

  “When he gets like that, I can’t handle him alone. I need you to stay close once we find them, while we talk. Maybe we’ll work things out.”

  Marc heard a mix of emotions in her words, but doubt was the clearest. “You don’t think so?”

  She took the smoldering blunt back, and again, made sure they didn’t touch, drawing a deeper frown. Where was his Angie?

  “No. Kenny doesn’t know what a compromise is, never had to before, and unless the War changed him, he’ll fight to keep what he considers his. I still owe him six years.”

  Marc knew trouble when he heard it. “So, I get you there and what? Keep an eye on you so you can tell your man you don’t love him anymore?”

  Her eyes blazed, and he knew it was at the accusing tone more than the words.

  “It was never love! We made an unfair deal, and he’s had over a decade of my life that I can’t get back! You don’t know, so don’t sit there and think I’m playing games. Kenny will be furious I’ve left Ohio, and he won’t care about my reasons or needs. When he finds out I want to change the terms of our deal, that just maybe, I want complete freedom, he’ll do whatever it takes to hold me…unless he’s changed.”

  “And you hope he has?” Marc asked slowly, not wanting to know, and yet needing to. When she hesitated, his heart stirred. There was room there…and it was still wrong.

  “We were a family for a long time, and if he can stop...” Angela caught herself quickly, “If he can compromise, I might be willing to settle back into our old life.”

  “And if he won’t?” Marc stubbed out the roach, and when she met his eye again, there was no mistaking the fear, but there was also a wall of determination that reminded him of the old Angie, his Angie.

  “Then I’ll grab Charlie and go north. Kenny would never expect a weak woman who speaks a little Spanish to head for Canada.”

  Marc let out a frustrated sigh, sure she wasn’t telling him everything. “We could do that anyway.”

  “No. I have to give him the chance.”

  “So, I take you there and hang around until you make up your mind, and then maybe take you north. What’s the catch?”

  Angela sighed ruefully, not meeting his eye. “There’s more than one, but the biggest is that Charlie doesn’t know for sure that Kenny’s not his father. I’ve never been... able to tell him, but he’ll figure it out and then Kenny will know. Once my Marine finds out who you are, he’ll never agree to anything. You may have to fight for both of us.”

  Marc said nothing, waiting, and she let out a worried noise that called to him.

  “He’ll be madder than I’ve ever made him, and…maybe it’ll come to blood.”

  “Surely you’re exaggerating?”

  “No, I’m not. He’ll see you for the threat you are, and try to run you off or hurt you. It’s only fair you know what you’re getting into.”

  Marc felt a fresh tremor of unease at the tone. “Then why take the chance the boy will get caught in the crossfire? We’ll grab him and go.”

  “No, Brady. I would have been sent home, and they would have taken my baby from me. Kenny saved me that. We made a deal. Eighteen fu
ll years no matter what, and while I can’t keep that promise now, I at least owe him the chance to accept that things have changed and keep the family he had, just on different terms.”

  Marc was quiet as he studied her, not liking it. If her man was that possessive, there was bound to be ugliness he wanted no part of. “What you’re asking is unfair. I can’t even spend time with my son. It’s a bad deal now, too.”

  The storm had broken overhead while they talked, rain now thumping roughly on the roof as the wind gusted, slamming things around, and she looked at him with eyes that said she didn’t think she could do it on her own.

  “You won’t help me?”

  The crushing disappointment in her voice had him looking away, sure if he held her gaze, he would give in.

  “I’ll think on it, but probably not. I can’t be your show of force and maybe even your attack dog, just because you can’t live up to a decades-old promise and are too honest to skip out on it, even after all that’s happened. I certainly won’t challenge a fellow Marine for those reasons.”

  Angela nodded, holding back hot tears. “I understand. I’ll go my own way come morning…I’m sorry, Brady, for all of it.”

  She lay down with her back to him, trying not to cry. She just couldn’t bring herself to tell him the awful truths about how bad her life had been. He had to see on his own how much she needed him. There was no way guilt would hold him through all they would face.

  Marc wanted to talk more, wanted to convince her she didn’t have to stay with a man she didn’t love, that even after all these years, others were still waiting. He also loathed the idea of being a Jody. No real Marine let himself become the guy that stole a fellow grunt’s girl while they were away.

  Brady blew out a sigh of frustration, frown growing when the small sound made her flinch. What the hell was he supposed to do? "Whatever she asks!" his heart reproached miserably, already aching at the thought of being split from her again so soon. His emotions insisted she was the real thing, a true damsel in distress, and he went over her words and reactions repeatedly, looking for clues to what he was missing. What hadn’t she told him?

  5

  A short time later, Angela jerked out of a deep sleep, the first she’d had since leaving Cincinnati. Weak alarm bells blared in her head for the second time in the same night, and she pushed herself up, but the door in her mind refused to swing open. She was too tired.

  Marc woke the second she sat up, heart thumping at the sight of his dream woman with sleep still on her.

  “We have to get out of here.”

  He began to pull on his boots, not hesitating, and the clink of his dog tag caught her ear as he stood up to fasten the jeans he’d discreetly loosened. The sexy strip of hair that ran from his flat, tanned stomach to his groin kept her attention, and she snatched in a surprised breath at the clear chill of desire that went through her. It had been a long time since she’d felt anything even close to passion.

  “What is it?”

  Angela shook her head, tearing her eyes away as she grabbed her blankets, sweater, and the heater. “I can’t tell. Big and fast, whatever it is.”

  She moved toward the ladder, leaving the rest of her things. She could hear Dog whining impatiently in the darkness below. Whatever it was, the wolf felt it. Angela climbed down quickly, going for the door.

  “Oh, my God!”

  That instantly drew Marc from gathering their things, and he stopped in the doorway behind her, stunned.

  Thick, orange flames licked up dying trees and the porch rails of the house, branches flaming in every direction. Even the air was burning, fat drops of acid rain catching fire before they hit a burning branch or rail. It looked like the sky was on fire from the ground up, tiny sparks moving into the night like flames following gasoline.

  The rear of the garage was sending up smoke, telling Marc that direction wasn’t safe either, and his sharp mind began to search for an exit.

  Angie was still frozen, and Marc gave her a nudge as a wave of thick, black smoke gusted toward them, noticing she cringed away from him even in a moment of danger. “Back the way we came, and stay on my ass!”

  They were rolling a few seconds later, tires moving over hot, smoldering branches and limbs that had already fallen. The smoke grew steadily thicker, making it harder and harder to see as they drove by smoking cabins and tall, flaming trees that threw hot showers of sparks on their vehicles as they sped by. Neither noticed the bullets that slammed by, all barely missing the tires they were aimed for, hitting the ground with hard, quiet thuds that couldn’t be heard over the crackling, popping roar of the fire around them.

  Smoke rolled across the road in thick waves, flames blocking their way in places, and Marc was forced to lead them in and out of trees that had become horrible, burning torches.

  Dead limbs fell, thumping to the ground in geysers of flaming debris and Angela followed him tensely, heart in her throat. They’d almost burned! It was hot and smoky, her back and face sweaty, cheeks streaked with soot, and Angela tried to keep her eyes on his bumper instead of the flames. How close to death they’d been!

  Brady took them back the way they’d come, but instinct was telling him this wasn’t a natural fire. When the flames continued to get heavier, he turned them again, heading west as sweat poured off him in small torrents. The flames rose suddenly in a thick wall, and he keyed the mic, “Hit the gas! We’ll go right through!”

  They plunged into the fire at high speed, the heat rising, and then they were through, coming out unharmed on the other side. Temperature instantly cooler, the path Marc picked went downhill steeply, winding in long, bone-jarring bumps. The flames hadn’t been through this brown and green terrain yet and Marc was encouraged. Maybe they had gotten out in time…because of Angie.

  He could still see the flames in his mirror, though, and when he spotted the animals following White Creek, he headed for it too, eased them down into the half a foot of casually flowing water. He rolled slowly down the middle of the creek, looking for the dirt path he’d only been on twice. It was nearly inaccessible to anything but a bike, 4x4, or jeep, and it would take the fire a long time to spread up the huge hill.

  Spotting it, he headed them gently that way, being careful not to kill any of the animals still darting into the water for safety. “Remember how we used to ride dirt bikes behind Daniel’s house?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is trickier. Stay a few lengths behind, and remember that an uncontrolled slide doesn’t happen unless you hit the brakes too hard.”

  Angela had to grin at his tone. It said he was eager for the next thrill, like when they were young. The fun they’d had together was something she hadn’t allowed herself to think about in a very long time. She just couldn’t deal with the crushing pain and anger without Kenny sensing it and reacting badly (violently), and it still hit her at odd times that she was now free to think about anything she wanted. “You lead, I’ll follow.”

  Since when? Marc shifted gears as adrenaline raced through him, and he could almost feel her catch his mutter and smile.

  He went up the steep hill with an easy burst of speed, and Angela counted to five before following, glad when he didn’t seem to have any trouble with the dark, muddy-looking path.

  His Blazer fishtailed as it hit the top, though, brake lights flashing briefly before he dropped suddenly out of sight. Heart in her throat, Angela hit the gas harder as she neared the top, and only tapped the brakes as her 4x4 started to drop into thin air.

  She saw Marc half way up the next hill, and then she had her hands full as gravity pulled hard and she landed on a narrow path that shot downward at an awful, left tilt. The Blazer slid heavily, thick gobs of mud spraying the trees. Her hands worked the wheel, foot on the gas, and she just made the turn, shooting up the hill Marc was disappearing over.

  Her Blazer slid to the right again as she made it to the top, wincing as she scraped branches and trees, and she had to physically force her foot
away from the brake. She used loose hands on the wheel to keep the teetering vehicle on the edge of control and was able to make the turn.

  Angela brought it gently away from the steep side, proud of herself, and jumped when his thoughts came flying at her, "Gets bad from here. I’ll tell you which way to aim for."

  She heard him clearly in her head, heard the worry but also the excitement, and was suddenly sure he would never let her go on alone. His sense of honor would be the excuse he gave himself, but it was really the connection between them, the old hunger and restless need. It would make him stand with her. Their lives, her life, had been in grave danger twice in the same eight hours, and the Brady she had known would never...

  She stopped the old Angela, not ready for the pain that would come with completing the thought. That boy was likely gone. Better not to get her hopes up.

  6

  The twins had come up, then down, the steep miner’s road much more slowly than Angela and Marc, their jeep barely able to make the muddy, hairpin turns. As they reached the summit of the last dark, treacherous hill, Dillan pointed at two sets of brake lights disappearing into the foggy valley below. They watched for a long moment, but saw nothing else.

  “Still going west.”

  “Meeting someone?”

  “Cesar, maybe, if she goes far enough. He’s in that area by now.”

  “She wouldn’t be able to handle all those men.”

  “Neither could we. Have to share.”

  “No.”

  “Exactly. We’ll follow but hang back, let them think we died or gave up. Our chance will come.”

  Dean dug through his pack for two white capsules, glad to be traveling in the same vehicle together again. He’d missed his brother’s heat. “Start out again at daylight?”

  “Yeah. We know which direction she’s headed. We’ll camp high before dusk each night, and keep track by their lights. They’ll relax, and we’ll look for a shot at her alone, take her off guard.”