The Survivors: Book One

by Angela White

  “Not going to the ground means the difference between rape and escape. You have to stop me by any means necessary.”

  Angela frowned, backing up as he edged closer. “I can’t just attack you.”

  “I’m gonna make it so you can. Remember to think.” Marc sent his very male eyes over her body with clear want, letting the animal side out just a bit, and Angela felt terror go through her at his words. He wasn’t like them, right?

  “Pretty white bitch,” he growled, mimicking the brothers' menacing tone almost perfectly. He hated her reaction, but didn’t stop, forcing her to deal with it. “How 'bout a kiss? Been alone a long time.”

  She shook her head, still moving carefully away, and he was glad to see her eyes locked on his. At least she knew that much.

  He rushed her suddenly and Angela brought her hands and knee up together. The force behind it was meant to hurt, but it didn’t. Neither said a word, Marc only letting his body strain against hers.

  It took him a full minute to get her off her feet this time, Marc not really trying, of course, and once on the ground, he kept her there, showing her where to hit, scratch, kick, and punch.

  A few minutes later, Angela knew she was done, and stilled, closing her eyes so he wouldn’t see how afraid she was that he wouldn’t stop.

  “Done now… Let... me up.” To her great relief, his weight was gone an instant later.

  There was no way she could have stopped him, and she knew he felt her shaking when she allowed him to pull her to her feet. She let go quickly and put some distance between them, stomach muscles now aching, pinching.

  “You okay?”

  Her words were breathy. “Good... exercise even... if I don’t... learn anything.”

  “You will.”

  Their eyes met, sparked, and hers darted away, making him frown. He had provoked real fear in order to teach, but it had taken so little!

  “I’ll work on it, Brady. Again...tomorrow?”

  He grinned at her, surprised she wanted to. “Absolutely. You did great. Next time, I’ll teach you ways to keep anyone from getting close enough to grab you.”

  She nodded, sweating despite the chill in the lightly gusting wind. She didn’t notice the wolf curling up on the porch, but Marc did, and was glad. He was never completely sure the animal would return.

  “Cool... guns now?”

  His eyes were unreadable as he considered. He had shown her proper cleaning and hand positions, and they’d done some dry fire exercises, but she needed to practice, and that made a lot of noise, would draw attention they weren’t ready to handle. “Not until we leave here. For today, we’ll use something quieter.”

  Pulse and respiration racing, she only nodded again as they headed in, unwilling to ask him for more. She needed to get used to caring for herself. Wasn’t that why she’d called him, to teach her?

  “You mean that?”

  Angela was surprised he was picking things up from her, the look on his face said he hadn’t been expecting it either, and the moment hung between them like a flame in the darkness. Back in the old days, they had been open to each other in every way.

  “Yes. Will you?”

  He looked away from her, thinking her eyes were still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Pretty cars and expensive jewels had nothing on Angie’s baby-blues.

  “Absolutely. In fact...” He dug in his kit. “I found this back in Mattoon.” He handed her a small, purple gift bag from his pack. It held an orange dart gun with half a dozen darts and a paper target. She saw the benefits even as she laughed at the toy.

  “I’ll treasure it always,” Angela joked as he taped the target to the wall. She loaded the bright orange weapon and stepped back to practice, concentrating.

  Marc stayed in a back corner, occasionally offering direction and trying not to sniff his hands. They reeked of her scent. He kept a groan to himself. Damn, he had it bad.

  When Angela looked around a bit later, the wolf was at the door, gray ears up, reddish-black head down, golden eyes watching contentedly. Marc had settled on the couch to clean his guns, and she felt peace and bitterness warring in her heart. This is how it should have been for them…and it had been stolen.

  5

  After a quiet meal of beans and Bambi, they settled in to wait out the storm. It wasn’t quite dark yet and they were surprised upon moving outside. Not to step out into cold, white darkness, but by the amount of snow that had already fallen. It was still coming down in thick sheets, at least six inches of the dirty grey flakes covering everything. The wind swirled the falling moisture into tiny tornadoes that raced across the cornfield to slam apart against the broken stalks and their snowy, tarp-covered vehicles.

  The pair split up wordlessly, Marc waving the wolf after her as she stepped behind a large, ice-covered tree and out of his sight. The wind howled, growing stronger, and sheets of falling snow whipped violently, producing a whiteout effect that the flashlights around their necks barely penetrated. Making a fast round of the perimeter, the Marine uncovered alarms, then joined her on the porch, careful to keep his distance.

  Angela didn’t meet his observant eyes, didn’t want him to see how scared she was. “I have to warn Kenny this is coming," she thought, but only said, "I’ll be out here for a few minutes.”

  Marc heard both statements. He wanted to stay and listen, but gently, closed the door instead, jealousy burning in his heart. He could feel it a moment later, powerful waves of warning that seemed to vibrate in his head as they rushed over miles and miles of broken American ground. He was hit with the urge to interrupt, to make his presence as her new protector known, but that would give away the element of surprise, and the Marine inside held him in check. Longing to at least hear what was being said, Marc began to clean his guns…again.

  Angela slammed the door in her mind, trying to stop crying and shaking. Kenny was so mad!

  His anger had slapped her, terrified her, and she wiped at her eyes as she turned toward their warm den. He wanted her to go back to Ohio, said he would come get her when he was ready, but she could hear him wishing she would die there or anywhere along the way. Under the layers of fear, she was furious and more determined than ever. She would never turn back now. Never!

  Marc saw her face as she and Dog came in, and acid burned in his gut. Her man couldn’t reach her physically, but he could reach her emotionally, and he had.

  “You okay?”

  She shook her head, face tear-streaked, beautiful black hair flecked with snow. “No, but I can’t fix it from here. Montana by the end of March sound right?”

  That was exactly what he had figured when she’d told him where her man was headed. “Yes, quicker if we do some night traveling too.”

  Angela sat on the couch and pulled the quilt around her shoulders, unable to stop hearing the threats, the ugliness. Kenny had been angry from the start, but had spun out of control quickly, suddenly screaming, and she wondered why. Heart now skipping rapidly in fear, she paled even more. Had he seen something he shouldn’t have when she’d shown him the storm? Icy terror sank deep into her heart. Did Kenny know she wasn’t alone?

  Angela flinched as Marc pushed the heater closer to her, kneeling down to turn it up higher. Not mentioning it, he wished there was something he could do to make her feel better. When he looked up, her eyes were locked on his, a desperate glare in her blue depths.

  “Tell me you’ll back me up, no matter what. Tell me the code, the Corps, and everything else comes second to me.”

  Marc smiled bitterly, but answered without hesitation. “Wasn’t it always that way? According to our family, I went against them and God to have you, and there was never a second that I wouldn’t have come if you’d called.” He dropped his eyes, sighed. “Still isn’t.”

  Angela gave him a shaky smile. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Marc clamped down on another attempt to get her to change her mind. “Me too. Fifteen years was a long time.”

  Ang
ela shuddered, closing her eyes and mouth on the hell she’d been through. Only the future mattered, and that was Kenny. He was a violent man and seeing her and Marc together might be enough to send him over the edge. Especially if he snuck up on them and saw anything, like the sparks that flew when their eyes met. Blood would spill then, and her boy's parentage wouldn’t be an issue.

  6

  Two pairs of dark, frustrated eyes watched the couple move about inside the cabin, both unhappy with the lesson they had just witnessed through shared binoculars.

  The snow had Dean and Dillan pinned down in a thermal tent. They were unable to get any closer because of the wolf and the tracks they were too injured to cover. Forced to wait until the storm broke and their wounds healed more, the brothers watched every move of the man and woman, plotting their revenge.

  Shooting them was talked about, as was an open ambush during their next lesson, but neither plan was acted upon. In their conditions - both of their wounds angry red and leaking blood - they couldn’t be sure of victory. The evil twins wouldn’t underestimate their prey again though, and hunkered down to wait for their moment of triumph.

  7

  Angela’s dreams were worse than usual, and she jerked awake to see Marc already sitting up, watching her with concerned eyes.

  “Is there a problem?”

  She shook her head, keeping the thick quilt around her shoulders as she headed for the door. Not bothering with her shoes, when she slipped outside, Marc waved the wolf after her and got up.

  She was jumpy, more so now than the night they’d been reunited, and she never slept for more than a few hours without her nightmares interrupting. It made him a little more nervous and a lot more pissed with each passing day. Her man was definitely going to be taught a lesson. How hard it would be was the only unknown.

  Marc put his hands to work, caring for his guns yet again, as his ears strained to hear any noise outside. He finished with the beautiful, matching Colt’s and slid them onto his hips with a feeling of completeness he knew not to put much faith in. Being good with a gun wasn’t nearly enough now. It took listening to everything around you, but mostly to your gut. His was telling him that this mess was all his fault, and the time had come to fix it. He was a United States Marine, and it was his duty to open the door to her cage.

  Shivering, Angela sat in the back seat of her Blazer, the open door letting the wind swirl dark flakes inside. Her mind was awash with the past - her man’s violence, mixed with childhood demons, and the horror of seeing the War up close - and she wished she didn’t have to sleep. She would never have an unbroken night’s rest again until she was with her son.

  "The arms of the man, your new guardian, would ease these things. His heart is pure."

  Angela frowned at the wolf, shaking her head. She had little doubt it would work, but Marc would never just offer, and she couldn’t imagine asking. It went against everything she’d had beaten into her.

  "This man is not the same. He is yours."

  She shook her head again. “Not anymore. That was a long time ago.”

  "Then why does it feel like it was yesterday?" the old Angela questioned.

  Her heart sobbed, giving the answer that Kenny must never, ever be allowed to discover. “Because I still have feelings for Brady. They never went away.”

  Chapter Twenty

  February 24th, 2013

  Wyoming, near Kemmerer

  1

  Kenn listened to the early morning chatter at the boss’s center table with only half an ear - something he usually never did. His clever mind was busy searching for a way to tell Adrian about the coming storm. He had no doubts, had seen the deep snow drifts around the tarp-covered outlines of two vehicles (two!), but how could he convince Adrian, without telling him about Angela?

  "Lie," his mind whispered and Kenn looked up guiltily to see everyone staring at him.

  “Sorry, what?” he sputtered.

  Adrian frowned. “Supply list?”

  Kenn handed it to him from the stack on the table, being careful not to let the stiff wind rip it from his fingers. “Here ya go.”

  Adrian looked it over, nodded, and turned to Neil. “Who’s going with you?”

  The cop handed him a smaller sheet of paper as a bird’s wild call echoed, and they all looked up at the grit-covered sky. Tension gripped the crowd in the Mess, but when it wasn’t spotted, the normal noises slowly resumed. Wind blowing tarps, the clink of dishes, footsteps, vehicles lining up for a full days travel - Adrian told himself he was just feeling jumpy.

  “There are the names and some other details. Do you want…”

  Kenn let their conversation fade away from him again, mind clearly not on the meeting.

  Adrian sighed, banging his cup down hard on the picnic table. Everyone jumped and the Marine’s eyes flew to his. “Is there something I should know?”

  “Yeah,” Kenn confirmed quickly, and Adrian was glad to see relief on his XO’s scruffy face instead of the guilt he’d been expecting.

  “It’s gonna snow tonight and we’ll be caught out in the open unless we get ready,” Kenn announced, then waited, dreading the questions that would force him to lie to Adrian.

  “Snow?”

  Kenn set his cup down and squared his shoulders. “From the South, at least a foot by midnight, maybe more. We need to hole up somewhere.”

  Kyle, Doug, and Neil were looking at him with open mouths, but Adrian’s tone was thoughtful.

  “And what do you suggest?”

  “We passed a mall in Green River, a the roller rink back in Rock Springs, but really, Kemmerer’s only a few miles away, and it has a bowling alley with a mall across the street. We’ll hook up heat, maybe even get a few lanes going,” Kenn stated casually, ignoring the frowning guards. Adrian’s opinion was the only one that mattered, and he looked at Kenn now, deep blue eyes shuttered.

  “You’re sure?”

  Kenn didn’t look away. “I must be. I’m risking my new place here on it, right?”

  Adrian cocked an eyebrow and looked at him flatly, “Yes, you are. The bowling alley in Kemmerer?”

  “Yeah, Sage Lanes. It could snow for a week and we’d be okay there,” Kenn said, not hesitating, still seeing the snow-covered vehicles in his mind. Not one, but two. Angie wasn’t alone.

  The other three men clearly wanted to question, but didn’t because they also knew that only Adrian’s decision really mattered. They could feel him weighing it, even as all five of them turned to watch money - a large number of twenties - go blowing by with the gusty Wyoming wind. Two of them still felt the natural urge to gather it up, despite its uselessness.

  Adrian looked around. They had a great view of the Rocky Mountains, where grizzly bear and elk were no doubt hiding from the survivors, but down here in the basin, there were bodies of lizards and gophers scattered among the mesquite shrubs and cactus with their yellow and red tinged flowers, and not a single tree in sight. There were barbed wire fences, rows of unturned fields, and garbage littering the area, but as for civilization, there were only the distant outlines of two farms, and they looked boarded up, like they’d been condemned before the War had come. No other shelters. They were very exposed to the weather here, and if his Marine was right about the snow, they were in danger.

  “Notebooks open. Plans have changed.”

  They did it reluctantly. A Gulf War Veteran, a State Trooper, and a Mobster getting a taste of crow, Kenn thought.

  “We’ll need all three generators, a full fuel truck, the big tool chest, and a crew for bathroom setups, since those scheduled for here already did theirs.” He looked at Kenn, not scowling like he wanted to, when the wind blew a fresh wave of recent decay over their table. “You’ll do the hookups?”

  Kenn nodded, and Adrian lit a smoke. “Good. Go spend some time on the radio. Tell Mitch and Matt I want them.”

  Kenn moved right away, figuring ‘he heard it while monitoring the CB’ would be his excuse to the camp. While
he was glad he hadn’t had to lie to Adrian yet, he knew the questions would come and he would need to have an answer ready.

  The camp around them now murmuring, watching. Adrian gave his closest men understanding looks, sure their light beards hid suspicion and dislike. “I know you don’t trust him and that’s all right, as long as you trust me. Do you?”

  “You know it,” came the unanimous answers, but all three black-uniformed men were indeed hiding frowns under light stubble and blank looks. They didn’t even like the Marine, let alone trust him.

  “Good. We’ll see what happens, and in the meantime, a day in a bowling alley with heat and real lights sounds good. You guys gonna be on my team?”

  There were boasts and grins, Adrian in the thick of it, and his inscrutable eyes never hinted at how much he wanted, needed the Marine to be proven right. It would cement Kenn’s place here, but more than that, the ability to predict foul weather headed their way was invaluable. It was a skill he hadn’t suspected the man of having.

  The camp had no problem with getting a break from the expected hours of traveling, and nearly all the Eagles cracked jokes about the calm skies and temperatures that were currently above freezing. Kenn only told them to wait and see, but inside he was terrified of being wrong. He knew Angela wasn’t trying to trick him, but what if the storm had gone past them or dissipated? His face hurt from forcing himself to laugh at the remarks, and through it all he could feel Adrian's thoughtful blue gaze on him, watching and waiting.

  2