by Angela White
Life After War
LAW Box Set
Books 4-6
by
Angela White
Title: Law Box Set
Books 4-6 of the Life After War series
New Edition: 2017
Length: 2680 pages
Author: ©Angela White
Publisher: C9 Publications
ISBN#: 978-1-945927-99-7
Copyright © 1991 by Angela White
All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form without the prior written consent of Angela White or C9 Publications. Made in the USA.
Safe Haven Route of Travel
(For book 4)
All Angela White Books
Life After War Series
The Survivors
Adrian’s Eagles
Nuclear Ashes
Dystopian Stand
Fight for Survival
Carved in Yellowstone
Shattered Dreams
Dearly Departed
LAW Backstories
Marc and Angie
Marc and Dog
Related to LAW
The Alexa’s Travels series
Other Books by Angela White
The Bachelor Battles Trilogy
HOP-17: Human Origins Program
Life After War Book 4
Dystopian Stand
by
Angela White
Title: Dystopian Stand
Book 4 of the Life After War series
Edition: 2017
Length: 796 pages
Author: ©Angela White
Publisher: C9 Publications
ISBN#: 978-1-9459-2706-5
Copyright © 1991 by Angela White
All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form without the prior written consent of Angela White or C9 Publications. Made in the USA.
C9 Publications
http://www.c9publications.com/
Table of Contents
Concentrated Chaos
Honest Lies
Do Your Part
Add One More
Fix The World
Surrounded by Killers
Oh, Hell…
Don’t get Buggy
Set Us Up
Fireworks, Anyone?
All that Planning
High Overhead
Once a Ghost
Deceptive Innocence
Shadow Riders
These Dreams
Sex and Power
Inside and Out
Hit and Run
Black Ice and Sinkholes
How Many More?
Crossed Lines
Smurf Balls
Let’s End This
Breaking Point
Homecoming
Closing
Extras Section
One Common Goal
A Hero to lead them
A witch as a guide
Eagles to defend them
From every side
A Doctor to heal them
A Star to strengthen
A secretive father
A fallen idol
A camp of refugees
With skeletons to rival
A group of gifted teens
A clan of closed-off women
An army of Eagles
With one common goal between them
To save their future
To stay, to live
To continue recovering
To push, to never give
The Government
Coming to reclaim
From the old world
They’ll deliver the same
Safe Haven will stand–united
Or they will fall
Once again, the bad guys are coming
Determined to end it all
If they can take a witch
Or a few gifted teenagers
Safe Haven Refugee Camp
Will be in the hands of strangers
Part One
“A period of adjustment is always required during a change in leadership, but not everyone can afford the lost time. That’s when you discover if they’re worth following at all.” –Adrian Mitchel
Prologue
The war has begun to change us.
The mental cliffs we’ve been forced to leap–the horrors that we now hold inside–are nothing compared to the physical evolutions. We’re harder, stronger, more determined, but also weaker because we need each other so much more. It creates vulnerabilities.
We’re angrier, as well. We know the government survived and that we’ll have to fight them to remain free. We’ve faced slavers and nature, direct attacks from crazed refugees, and personal hatred inside our own borders, but all of that was to prepare us for this moment. We represent what’s left of the great American herd.
And I’m scared.
They are going to come for him–these people will know everything in a short time–and Adrian will be unprotected except for the Eagles. That won’t be enough to defeat the government. If they get ahold of Adrian, the entire world will finish falling. His powers are so magnetic that he could be used to draw in every gifted person on the planet. With all that light gone, all that hope, our civilization will crumble. I have to ask something of my Brady, something that will torture him. I need him to help me save the man he wants to kill.
Chapter One
Concentrated Chaos
June 30, 2013
Toltec State Park
Scott, AR
1
Angela closed the notebook and slid it under her mattress. It was actually Adrian’s and the entry was her first. The log of personal thoughts and camp plans had been exhausting to skim. She was both dreading and anticipating exploring it in depth, though that would take a while. The large stack of notebooks, ten of them, had been inside the tent when she and Marc had come here from the shower.
Angela flushed as she flashed to Marc on top of her, shuddering in pleasure. He’d taken her three more times during the night, as if he couldn’t get enough, and for every time he’d exploded, so had she.
Angela felt her body wake at the memory. What a difference! She’d enjoyed him as a teenager and their recent playing had been fun, but this...this was something that would tighten their bonds every time it happened.
He’s awake.
Angela winced at the note of tired anger in the mental message. She’d put Charlie on the medical tent last night to monitor things, and she had no doubt that he now knew of Adrian’s desires.
Thanks.
Okay to go? He’s too weak to block and I need a break.
Yes. Get some sleep.
Yeah, that’ll happen now.
Angela determinedly took a few more minutes for herself instead of rushing to comfort or cover. Charlie would be upset for a while, but he would realize what everyone else who found out did–that she didn’t want Adrian. She had Marc. Nothing could compare to that.
Body lighting up, Angela glanced over at the naked man sleeping next to her. Even relaxed, he put off an air of menace.
And that comforts me, she thought.
Marc rolled over, exposing a bare chest and faint nail marks. Angela blushed, drawn instantly into the memory of putting them there. Straddling Marc had been educational, to say the least. The witch had healed his mauled wrist and she’d held him while he groaned her name.
“If you keep throwing out that vibe, you’ll start me up.”
Angela flushed darker. “Maybe I meant to...”
“Come here.”
Marc’s husky voice sent a chill down her spine and Angela did as she was told.
Marc felt warm skin settle next to his, a slightly rough leg draping over his thigh, and tugged her closer. Even dreaming, there was no mistaking that smell, and in here, there were no rules to follow, no fears to conquer. He was allowed to take what he wanted.
And what do you want? the lusty voice inside asked. What way would you have it?
Marc slid his hands around and under, moving closer. Together.
The demon agreed eagerly. That fit with his plans.
Marc nuzzled her cheek, inhaling deeply. “Mmm. You smell good for a dream.”
Marc’s hand went to her hip, rolling her onto her other side and he slid tightly up against her. He curled one thick arm under, hand cupping her breast. The other went over her hip and pulled her against him. The feel was enough to bring Marc close to the edge.
He put her leg over his hip and readjusted so that he was pressed tightly against her thighs. When he slid his hand to the slick flesh between her legs, her body arched against him and he pushed inside.
“Mm...”
“Oh...”
Marc didn’t waste time. He brought her right to that edge with his finger strokes and held himself on it as he thrust in and out. The fit from this angle was amazing. Pleasure seared him and his balls grew heavy.
His fingers stroked her faster, pressing harder, and she arched in climax, body clamping down.
Marc let go of his control, shoving forward to explode inside her willing body.
Angela’s groans and the nails digging into his wrist were the first signs of reality that registered. Still shooting into her with nerve tingling jerks, others followed in rapid succession. Tangled hair around his hand, tight body, sore muscles... Marc hurriedly pulled out, and was unable to stop from covering his ass. He pushed against hers and rode out the rest of the intense pulses. Maybe she wouldn’t notice.
Marc groaned as she pushed back and sent a fresh rush of pleasure through them both. She definitely wouldn’t if he shoved her over the rainbow again.
Marc sent his hands to her sensitive flesh, pushing away the guilt. What were the odds that she’d get pregnant again from the first time? There was no way fate would hit them that way twice in the same lifetime.
2
Duty pulled Marc from Angela’s hot arms just as dawn arrived. No one came to get him, but the alarm in his mind said the camp was stirring.
Marc eased off the air mattress and pulled the blanket up to Angela’s shoulders as she snuggled into the warm spot he’d left. He stole a minute of staring at her before pulling on his jacket and boots, and quietly leaving, zipping up the tent behind him. He hoped everyone would give her a few more hours rest, but knew it was unlikely when he spotted Kyle and Daryl nearby.
The two men didn’t speak to him as he went toward the little mess for coffee, and Marc understood they were her protection.
Marc turned to verify it and found both men now standing outside Angela’s flap, their backs to it and hands on holsters.
He grunted unhappily.
Marc went to John first, avoiding Adrian’s bedside. Deathbed, his mind whispered.
Marc knew Adrian wasn’t better when John came to meet him at the flap. After quick eye contact with the other wounded men, a nod to Anne, and a fast glance at the curtains shielding Adrian, they walked outside.
Adrian’s fever had risen as the infection grew. Around daylight, he’d begun to rant and toss. John had put up a partition to give privacy and then sedated him, sure that Adrian wouldn’t want his men to view him that way. Even Adrian’s tattoos were paler, not as striking with him in that cot, and a leader wasn’t supposed to appear so easy a target. There was little John could do but hope the antibiotics would smother the infection. The Eagles didn’t like their leader being brought down. John loathed it.
Marc’s heart was heavy as he went toward the main camp. What would they do without Adrian? He realized he’d finally caught what was going around and found only a sad bitterness. Adrian was the reason they’d come together. Son of a bitch or not, nothing would be the same if he were taken.
His radio crackled. “Mitch is waking up.”
“Copy,” Marc answered. He was nearby.
After three full days of drinking at the table, Mitch was looking and smelling rough. Every time he’d tried to get up, he’d been told to keep drinking, that it was his exit party from Safe Haven. Violence hadn’t been required to keep their former radioman at the table–his addiction had done that. Mitch had a monkey on his back that most of them doubted could be unloaded.
Marc slid onto the damp bench as their former radioman raised his head.
“Morning,” he called cheerfully.
Mitch flinched from the loud word. “Whass?”
Marc motioned Li Sing forward. “How about something to drink? That always helps, right?”
Mitch stared in baleful confusion. He barely remembered passing out here, but Brady’s friendliness was still bright in his mind.
Marc tilted the cool beer up and let half of it roll down, controlling his stomach.
Mitch again chose the whiskey instead of beer, and the two men spent a quiet moment of silence–one drinking, one thinking. Around them, the camp went about morning rituals, while in the crowded QZ, there was almost no movement.
Marc waited for Mitch to become alert and then glassy, for the bloom of roses to come into his cheeks. When he saw those signs, Marc switched from friend to teacher.
“The boss man wants you gone. On your own.”
Marc didn’t react to the immediate promises and denials. He told only the truth. “Someone else has your job, Mitch, your place. You’re at zero again because of a drinking problem that has endangered Safe Haven more than once. You have no value to Adrian anymore.”
Mitch dropped his eyes, telling Marc he’d already figured that out for himself.
“Matt will stay here.”
Mitch began to cry big drunk tears, the kind that quickly soaked everything under them. “Thank you for giving him another chance!”
Marc blinked. There was a real person inside of Mitch. It was another insight he hadn’t agreed with upon hearing the plan, but Adrian was apparently able to get deeper.
That’s why he was born–to be a leader, the demon inside stated firmly. It’s also why he’s damned. Few would recognize so deep a secret without actually being there. He’s gone through this himself–all of it.
Marc shook off the eerie thought that followed: We all have. He got back to helping Mitch. “Adrian thinks you’ll die out there. It’s why no order came down on you. Is that true, Hopkins?”
The whiskey opened Mitch’s mouth. “I survived before. I will now, too.”
“That’s what I told him,” Marc stated.
Mitch stared in sudden suspicion. “You don’t like me. You never have.”
“Like? No. Believe you can reform? That’s different. Matt is a good kid without a man in his life to teach him right from wrong. I’m going to help straighten him out. I suspect you’re raising him like your father, and that’s the problem. While I’m helping Matt, I can do the same for you.” Marc sat back. “Or you’ll be gone by sundown.”
Mitch wanted to take the offer, but he was sure it would be hard. The man inside was shouting, wanting to fight over the insulting truths, but the alcohol was calling louder.
Marc took another short drink of his sweaty beer, guts rumbling in protest. “Mm. I have one or two a week, but I always want more.”
Mitch stared, trying to process what that meant.
Marc sighed regretfully, aware that he had attention now. “But I won’t be drunk on duty, not ever.”
He dumped the remaining beer onto the ground near the table.
Mitch got the point, and it wasn’t enough. He flushed, but didn’t answer, didn’t even consider doing the same with his own.
Marc tossed out one of his secrets with a sense of relief. “I used
to be a drinker, too–a heavy one. It got me in trouble, cost me things I loved.”
Mitch gaped in surprised. “You’re a alcoholic!”
Brady gave an embarrassed shrug. “Like most of us, I hate that word, Mitch.”
It made Mitch believe. No one else but a fellow addict would know how dirty that word made a person feel. “Me, too.”
Marc stood up, stomach rolling over. “Finish that bottle–enjoy it. When it’s gone, either go get a shower and a lot of coffee, or say goodbye to your son and get out of this camp. It’s your choice, but make it now or I’ll do it for you.”
Marc quickly got out of sight and hearing distance, before allowing himself a minute to vomit. His CO had given him a much harsher lesson than the one Mitch was receiving, making him drink from dawn to dawn for three days straight. By morning three, only the hits had kept him swallowing. As a result, Marc now loathed any type of alcohol on an empty stomach.
This was a worthy reason to do it, though. Angie wanted Mitch to stay and learn to be a father. Marc would try to make it happen.
3
Stepping out into dawn’s cloudy chill, Angela spotted Kyle lingering nearby. He clearly hadn’t gone to bed yet. The mobster looked as bleary as she felt.
“Get some rest soon.”
Kyle didn’t answer and she didn’t push further. He knew his limits better than most men.
“Got a minute?” Marc asked, coming around the Safe Haven side of the mess.
Angela slowed, but kept going. “Not really. Walk with me.”
Marc fell in. “What’s the hurry?”
“Adrian’s awake, delivering instructions.”
Marc forced himself to sound as if he liked being in charge. “I need some things from you.”
“Like what?”
“Don’t know what to tell people about Conner, for starters. All this chaos for one kid is being openly questioned.”
