The Survivors: Book One

by Angela White

  6

  Kenn was sitting in an uncomfortable folding chair, in the center of Adrian’s perfectly neat tent, and wishing more people were out to walk by and see. The flap was open, the dim lantern light flickering gently in the soft, midnight breeze, and Kenn couldn’t imagine being more content anywhere else. He knew there were men who didn’t want him here, but they didn’t matter. They would never say anything against Adrian. His wants and choices were followed without question, the timid people here almost worshiping the blond. Where Adrian wanted someone, he was placed.

  “Here ya go. Try this. I made it myself.”

  Adrian handed him a cool metal cup, along with a cigar, and Kenn noticed the five o’clock shadow and bloodshot blue eyes. Clearly, their leader already had a head start.

  Kenn smelled his cup, liking the vanilla more than he would ever admit to, and took a large swallow. It burned its way down to his gut despite the sweet aftertaste, and he sucked in a breath, coughing. The two Marines shared a grin.

  “Good?”

  Kenn nodded as the blond man sat down, noting the red, white, and blue on the cups. With Adrian, everything was about America.

  Adrian studied Kenn, pale eyes unreadable, and the tension thickened.

  The Marine forced himself to stay still, sensing if he seemed too eager now, he might lose it before it was really his.

  “Do you have any idea why I asked you here?”

  Kenn shook his head, instinctively knowing this was all part of the ritual of being brought in. “Have I done something wrong?”

  “Just the opposite. The guys tell me you like to stay busy.”

  Kenn emptied his cup, set it on the small folding table as the potent alcohol burned its way to his gut. “There’s a lot to be done,” he gasped out, making Adrian grin.

  “Ain’t that the truth. How long you been here now?”

  “Fifteen days.”

  The quick answer made Adrian frown a little. “You’ve done doubles on guard duty, taught two gun classes for the Eagles, helped find supplies, set up camp, broke down camp, and gassed up vehicles. There’s been something every day, all on top of your regular schedule. Busy two weeks.”

  Kenn shrugged lightly. “Unleaded is my new cologne.”

  “Smells like a hard worker, someone with ambition looking for a mountain to climb.”

  Kenn shrugged again, not looking away from those assessing blue eyes. “I’ve got a lot to offer.”

  “And I want it, Marine,” he handed Kenn a thick black notebook with a silver pen in the ring. “Others see it. Many people have hinted that you should be invited onto the payroll.”

  “But?”

  “But, it’s not up to some or most of them. It has to be unanimous and that depends on you.”

  Kenn met Adrian’s pointed look with one of his own. “I’m working on it.”

  The leader looked up from lighting his cigar, “Not fast enough, but I can’t wait any longer. We have to get these people ready to defend their freedom.”

  Kenn was quiet, considering, asking himself if he could start out as a lowly drill instructor. When he looked up to tell Adrian that wouldn’t hold him long, the blond added what was missing, with careful wording that Kenn overlooked - hearing only what he wanted.

  “I have important work for you. You’ll be higher than any other here now. Together, we’ll save some of what matters.” Adrian raised a brow, eyes questioning, “If you have the time?”

  “You make the schedules. I have the time, if you say I do.”

  Adrian frowned coldly. “This is no game. Be sure.”

  “I’d never treat it that way.” Kenn looked horrified.

  Adrian knew that, but the warning came with the offer. “Things will start slow, but it won’t stay that way. Effective immediately, you have that place at my right that your eyes were asking for when we found you. You’ll always be second in command and more aware than anyone else - in my head deeper. I’m offering you what the Corps couldn't…your purpose. The reason you were born, why you survived.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  Adrian returned his look with hard eyes that said no going back would be allowed. “You’re mine. Be the anything and everything I need to keep these people alive. I make every choice based on what’s best for the entire camp and nothing else takes priority, not even me. I’ll do anything to keep us together, know that now. I will expect your complete and immediate support, no matter what the chore or situation.”

  Kenn didn’t even consider refusing, holding out a hand. “You have a deal."

  Adrian shook with his new right-hand man, thinking the first one had come into his web, but there would be many more.

  Chapter Sixteen

  2059AW (After War)

  1

  There were people everywhere and it was a joy to see. They had come to pay their respects to the man who had made their new lives possible and groups were streaming in from all corners of the globe in an endless succession of happiness and grief.

  The founder of Safe Haven may be near the end of his time, but the vision he had created would survive forever. With his strength of mind, the son of a traitor had given them peace, honor, and safety. There were no jails nor any need for them, no hunger, no pollution or dying planet trying to kill them first. The methods he had used to achieve such a utopia were often brutal, but forty seven years after the War of 2012, America was flourishing, spreading back into the wilderness. Even the years they had spent in foreign lands had been ones of happiness and light. Because of Adrian and his Eagles.

  In the heart of Safe Haven City, surrounded by rolling farms and playing children, they gathered, waiting. Adrian would see them all one last time, and they would listen well to any last words he had for them.

  Glowing with fulfillment, he only spoke for a moment, and then there was a cheer as he stepped proudly from their lives. It swelled from the arched walls around the stage and grew into a noise heard over more miles than anything since the great eruption of Yellowstone in 2013. It was a celebration of the hope he had given them, the second chance to get it right, and they would honor his memory by keeping America in their hearts. It was his last wish.

  2

  In the early morning hours, the happy dream faded, allowing restless minds to sleep easier, but along Interstate 25, a Mexican with hate in his heart snapped awake with a scream of rage that brought men running to his filthy tent. He would never let them rebuild! That bright Safe Haven future would never exist, Cesar vowed, delivering a brutal kick to the girl chained at his feet. He would sacrifice every son and daughter he owned to prevent it!

  He was screaming for his cousin before his filthy feet hit the girl chained to the center pole.

  “Get up! There is work!”

  3

  Immune to the noise, Cesar watched as the plump woman rode out of camp, the cries of her two young children assuring him that she would do as he wanted. She would be missed for her cooking skills here, but at Safe Haven she would be an invaluable tool waiting for his use.

  His army was undisciplined, drunk on their successful invasion of the hated Americans, but the wise guerilla Captain sensed that wouldn’t be enough to defeat the group of survivors from his dream. The blond man had been hard and Cesar recognized the future battle. When it came, he would be ready and none of them would stand. There was a feeling of importance to the woman disappearing into the fog. Maria would be the key to that battle.

  Shoving the toddlers away from his leg, Cesar summoned his slave to care for them. When his sons were older, they too would be sacrifices for the cause. The evil slave trader grinned, letting out a battle cry that was echoed by his men.

  “Muerte a Estados Unidos!” Death to America.

  End of Book One – The Survivors

  Book Two – On The Road

  This series was split in the wrong place originally. To make sure everyone gets all the pieces, now that it has been edited, please enjoy book 2, free, as my gift, in th
is file.

  In Desperate Need of a Hero

  Dear red, white, and blue

  Is there still hope for you?

  I wonder

  Perhaps with someone in power

  Who slaves by the hour?

  To remain true

  A person of dignity

  Who's not a give-me

  Or quota-fill

  No reek of greed

  No corruptive seed

  Growing unchecked

  A leader who can inspire

  Who raises people higher

  Than themselves

  A soul with grace

  Not colored by race

  Of any kind

  A take-charge warrior

  An environmental voyeur

  Who loves this planet

  A Hero to lead

  With only one creed:

  America

  Where do we find such belief?

  When do we get the relief?

  Of being loved in return

  We'd die for the President

  Would he pay the same rent?

  Of course not!

  Your sacrifice we do not require

  We serve willingly, sire

  If you're worthy

  If you will get your hands a bit dirty

  To further our lives

  And enrich our minds

  To earn our trust

  It's all or bust

  And always

  America first!

  Finally, a Hero with enough strength, enough hope, to give us back some of what was stolen.

  -A.W.

  Chapter Seventeen

  February 21st, 2013

  Devils Head, Colorado

  1

  They hadn’t gone away. Cold and hungry, they were determined not to let Man regain control, and even a lone female was a threat to this new awareness. Mother Nature, having recognized the chance for a different outcome, was uniting species all over the world – most of them natural enemies - and her army was relentless, growing.

  Arrrooooooo!

  Samantha’s eyes flew open and she froze, listening intently. After a minute, she told herself to relax, that she had more pressing problems than wolves or coyotes outside.

  The pain in her leg was agony, and her hands and feet were so cold she couldn’t feel anything in them but pain. It was dark and drafty in the cabin, the flames long gone, and she forced herself to scoot over to the fireplace.

  Sam clenched her teeth at every jar of her leg against the hard floor, knowing she needed heat, but all she could really think about was how much she wanted to shoot up. It was the same craving making her almost drool when she woke in the darkness with only the flaring misery to comfort her, so she made herself wait. She would not come out of the War an addict.

  It was frigid in the hunting lodge, but the woman was thankful that the front glass windows had survived the cold wave with only small cracks. The thick line of birch and evergreens in front of the cabin had taken the brunt. And the birds, she thought, shuddering.

  Sam hadn’t realized the birds were there until she watched them freeze. The larks were huddled on an upper branch for warmth, and it had been awful, seeing their eyes as it happened. She could still just make out the faint yellow hue of their snow-covered bodies. It was like seeing her own fate, had the windows not held.

  It was growing warmer now, enough that she could even go to the outhouse, and while she was glad the freeze had let up, there was still plenty of nasty weather she would have to travel through. The feeling of wrongness invading this place said it wasn’t safe here anymore. She needed to get moving again.

  Adapting to the thick, groggy feeling of the morphine upon waking each day, she slowly stacked some of her dwindling supply of wood into the charred pit. Finished, her eyes surveyed the dark corner, glad to see the crackers were gone. She had noticed the animal cage in the SUV’s backseat as she’d come up the driveway to the hunting lodge, but it hadn’t registered and she’d mistaken the ferret for a mouse in her fear of doing self-surgery. Its brown and white fur had hung sadly from its narrow frame, and she’d been feeding it whenever she ate, leaving water out. If it would come to her, maybe she would have a companion.

  Shivering now, Samantha squirted the lighter fluid gently and struck a match, having to use three before it finally roared to life, singing her fingertips. Vaguely thinking she had never looked or smelled worse in her life, Sam pulled the blanket tighter around her thin shoulders, huddling as close to the heat as she could.

  Needing to know what her wound looked like, she gently pried back the bandage over her leg, trying not to disturb the newly forming scabs. It was still ugly, but clearly improving and she could even put a little weight on it now. Her shaking hands replaced the mostly clean material, thinking it had hurt more than…

  Arrrooooooo!

  Samantha turned her head and froze at the sight of red, malevolent eyes glaring through the front window. She stared at those eyes for a long moment, reading, evaluating her situation. It had been three days; blizzard cold, the snow was falling heavily even now, and the wolves were still out there…stalking her.

  Sscccraatch... ssscchh.

  Paws digging at the small gap under the front door got her moving, but her gaze stayed on the window, where more hungry eyes had appeared. She was in trouble, and once again there would be no rescue but the one she provided.

  Sam squared her shoulders, feeling the helpless anger that always rose when she thought of the old world now. Fine, if they wanted a war with humans, she would give them a taste of what they were in for.

  2

  The first thing the Storm Tracker did was give herself a light dose of liquid gold and use the bedpan, glad her leg felt stronger. She would need that.

  She dressed as fast as she could, knowing the layered shirts would help protect her from bites and scratches; the sweatpants going over the jeans for the same reason. After tying her dirty blonde braid back, she strapped the gun around her hips, wishing it had more than just two bullets in it.

  Samantha chose to make her stand in the corner, to the left of the stone fireplace, and was crying hard tears by the time she had tumbled the cumbersome wooden desk onto its side, pulling it in like a wall.

  After stowing all her things behind it, she filled a half dozen syringes with morphine, leaving the caps off, and added them to the knives already in the wide pockets of her trench coat. They made a comforting clink. When the wolves came, it would be through the windows already weakened by the first, strong wave of the blizzard, and it would get cold in here fast.

  “Sure could use a solid,” Sam muttered hoarsely, very aware that this was probably where her luck would run out. “If I’ve got any credit, I’d like to use it now, please.”

  Taking a little more of the morphine she feared she would crave forever, Sam shook her head, recapping the needle with shaking fingers. She had already survived worse. Wolves, no matter how determined, were nothing compared to Melvin and Henry, both drunk and wanting sex.

  Scratch…Paw...Sniff.

  Sam counted two shadows under the door, four pairs of eyes at the window. Six animals, and probably a few others hanging back, waiting. But not for much longer, she thought, almost able to feel their hunger, their hatred, as they watched her movements through the frosted glass. The storm had piled up at least a foot of thick snow, giving the wolves a step-up to see her better, and she glared back as she put the torches near the fire, not sure why she’d made them. The fire poles were a last resort, she thought, turning to look at her would-be killers. As if on cue, the newest battle for survival began.

  Smaaaaash!

  The front glass shattered, a huge black wolf landing on its side as sharp pieces of glass flew across the floor, and snow, dark and dirty, flew through the jagged hole.

  Snarling at her before it gained its feet, the wolf padded her way with red eyes promising death.

  Crack! ...Thud...Ccrrssshhh!

  The second
window failed, snow and wolves streaming through the gaping opening.

  Hungry fangs bared, their claws digging into the floor, Sam watched them with her heart in her throat, waiting for them to get close enough for her meager weapons to be effective.

  Craasshhh!

  A third window exploded under the weight of a large white wolf. It didn’t slow as it hit the wooden floor, using it to jump again, fangs bared in anticipation.

  Sam moved fast, jerking needles from her pocket, slamming two syringes into the white wolf’s furry chest as it came down on her. Grunting, she pushed the double dose in, cringing away from the heavy, reeking weight.

  A second wolf had lunged with its leader, and was hit with the Alpha’s convulsing body, knocking them both into the corner of the desk. The heavy marble slid against Sam’s good leg, shoving her back and away from their snaps.

  Pictures crashing to the floor behind her, Sam ignored the stabs of pain, looking up quickly to see a lanky wolf flying through the air, two others about to launch.

  She fired the last two bullets in her gun, only one of the shots connecting, and then the third animal was flying toward her, snapping viciously…

  Sam leaned into the wolf’s lunge, knife from her pocket impaling, ripping upward.

  Iiiipe!

  She let the bloody blade fall as she grabbed the Taser she’d found refill packs for, shocking the wolf she’d missed with the gun. She hit in the muzzle as it went for her injured limb. The wolf fell, whining loudly.

  She kicked the animal that had recovered from hitting the desk’s sharp corner with her good leg, blood trickling from its ear.