by Angela White
“Maybe you should have kept an open mind,” Marc stated, not looking away from the shocked man. “I see your thoughts!”
Red Stone stumbled back and Marc followed, now towering over their escorts in his openness. “I am a descendant of the Great Spirit. You will fight with me, die with me.”
That had their attention, and Red Stone found his mouth opening. “We will lose.”
“Our deaths are the sacrifices that the Great Spirit requires. We will give our lives for our people,” Marc insisted.
That, they understood with no further words needed.
Marc sent his red orbs over the camp of forty. “I am the Ghost. You are my Shadow Warriors. Together, we shall have honor and justice!”
“The Ghost!” Thaddeus shouted, raising his own clenched fist. “We will fight!”
“Fight! Fight!”
“The Ghost…”
“Ghost.”
“Ghost.”
Marc turned from the eerie chanting, slowly approaching Red Stone. “You will be my right hand of fury. You will kill more enemies than any other here.”
Red Stone’s chest swelled with pride. It was what he’d dreamed of before the war, but hadn’t been satisfied by since. “I will stay with you when these women warriors have all fled in fear.”
Marc grinned, holding his arm out. “My shadow brother. We will be unstoppable.”
Red Stone clasped his arm firmly, displaying crooked teeth and glints of eagerness. “Ghosts.”
13
By dawn, there were ten more riders with them, these from the Seminole.
By noon, that number had grown to thirty as representatives from the Osage and Ottawa joined them.
By dusk, Marc’s party was a hundred strong, with riders from seven different Indian nations, and he recognized the moment. It was time to start getting them ready for what they would do next.
Marc waved Jax and Paul over during a brief break, interrupting the lesson that Natoli was giving them on native legends. He squatted in the dirt and began to draw with his k-bar. “We’ll come out of tribal lands near 25. You two and a group will start laying our surprises. I’ll take a group to Denver.”
“Will they work with us without you here?” Jax asked worriedly.
Paul snorted. “Didn’t you listen to the first story? They think he’s their messiah, come to guide them to former glory.”
“I am,” Marc stated firmly. “Now pay attention.”
Neither rookie argued. Marc was playing a role here, that was clear, but how much was real and how much was an act, they didn’t know. So far, they were both assuming Marc was taking advantage of superstitions. He’d likely read of their legends and set all this up to look genuine.
Marc stared at the rookies with slightly red eyes. “Do you think so?”
With him glowing crimson, it was impossible to say that it was all a ruse, and neither man spoke.
Marc began outlining the plans for the mines and weapons they would place along route 40, and the Eagles turned their minds to it and dug in. The urge to be perfect here was terribly strong. The competitions in Safe Haven couldn’t compare to these men who challenged nature on her own terms daily. Jax and Paul had developed a healthy respect for their escorts, especially while riding in the wee hours and trying not to let anyone know how cold they were, or hear their teeth chattering. The Indians hadn’t appeared to notice the weather or discomfort.
Marc finished telling them what needed to be done, then included Thaddeus, saying, “You will be their right hand. Take care of my men. They must live to become ghosts.”
Thaddeus understood. In the old world, a trip from here, to Denver and back, would have been a two-day drive. Now, by horse, it would take four days each way. That was with breaks, though, and Thaddeus wasn’t sure Marc intended to take any. He had the same glaze that the restless braves sometimes carried when the reservation fences became too tall, too constricting. Those had been the first walls he’d brought down after the war.
“I will protect them. Do not fear for their safety.”
Marc sighed. “I don’t fear for their safety. I fear for yours. My rookies are new, but they hand out death as fast I do. Keep the riders away from them until they understand what and who we are.”
Thaddeus took the instruction to heart. The soldiers were the targets, not each other. “I will handle it.”
Marc hesitated, and then pushed on. “Other people may come, other races. They feel my pull, know the time has come. You have to convince your warriors to let them help us. There are Rancherias, pueblos, and colonies of Native Americans all over this broken country. We need as many as we can gather.”
Thaddeus didn’t care for the new information. “That will be no easy task. We locked ourselves here when the war came, to avoid those who survived. Outsiders were not welcome before. Now, they are hunted, purged from our lands.”
“There are more like me.”
Marc’s words drew the attention of the entire group. It was something the Indians had been wondering of Paul and Jax.
“They will come to find me, to help. You won’t know them. They will not give you the signs that I have. They, too, have been hunted.”
“The soldiers want to use them,” Paul added, looking only at Red Stone. “To regain control.”
Mutters went around the camp and the drag rider leader came closer. “We will not allow such power to fall in the hands of our enemy. It is better that you die.”
“I agree. But until that time comes, I will fight!” Marc shouted, gratified by the flinches. They were beginning to understand what he was now.
Marc calmed his inner rage, controlling the demon. He’d never imagined hunger like this. “We will be joined by many people, of many origins. Some of them will be the enemy in disguise. We will search each other and watch for those few. The rest we will welcome gratefully into our quest.”
The idea of spies had men staring at each other. Marc had already warned them of one such person and they glared around in suspicion.
“Tell us who the traitor here is, so that we may end his knowledge.”
Marc denied them. “He hasn’t chosen to betray us yet. As long as it is only thoughts, he has done nothing wrong.”
That was against the codes they were relearning or had been raised on, but Marc continued before anyone could speak. “Perhaps a dance would help him understand that the riches the enemy has promised will not be given.”
Red Stone’s mouth dropped open, betraying his control. “You would have us ghost dance!”
Marc grinned widely. “Yes. Let the people search the future and discover for themselves what waits if they continue to hide. The new earth will not stand for it. You must remember the first lesson of the Great Spirit.”
“We cannot love our enemy!” Red Stone protested.
“Yes, you can,” Marc affirmed, thinking of Adrian. “You respect his power, admire his intelligence, and loathe his ways. You love him for the challenge he will give you, for helping to prove your worth, your strength. The enemy is to be loved,” Marc repeated harshly. “And then destroyed like the plague that they are.”
Chapter Fourteen
Deceptive Innocence
July 17th
Near Holly Springs National Forest
1
“Wait.” Angela’s voice was different than it usually was when she was about to tell him of things they needed nearby. Adrian slowed to a gradual stop, fighting the heartburn.
“I’ll be right back.”
She was out the door before he could protest. Though she had a shadow, Adrian followed.
Angela stopped on the sidewalk, straining to view into the scraggily trees that lined the block of dark, paint chipped homes
After a moment, she walked slowly toward the tallest row of branches, gaze darting nervously around. It was bad here. She could feel…
Angela looked up. “There.”
Adrian struggled to spot whatever she had. When he finally
realized what the small, huddled shape was, his heart thumped. He would have rolled right by if not for her.
“That branch is ready to break.”
Adrian was studying the big tree. “Yeah. Look further up.”
She understood as she spotted the other shape, this one clearly dead. “Followed his cat up and got stuck.”
Adrian was glad there were no live cicadas in the trees. Plenty of eggs waiting for spring though, and he began searching for the right way to rescue the boy.
“Or they both hid and the cat couldn’t last as long as the kid,” Adrian offered, trying to distract her from the plans he could sense forming in her mind. “Lots of bullet holes and casings.”
Angela considered the branches, mind working the puzzle. Before he could argue, she lunged upward and began scaling the tree.
In view of their convoy, her actions drew immediate attention. The Eagles scrambled to secure the area as people climbed from their vehicles for a closer look.
Roughly half way, Angela glanced up to find the child staring at her with crushing gratitude. It was a relief so powerful that she smiled as tears pricked her lids. Another of her lost children, found.
“I’m Angie.”
The boy was younger than 10 and older than five, with matted brown hair and skin so dirty, she wasn’t sure if he was black or not. His dark brown eyes ran with tears, cutting a path through the grime that gave her a hint of his lineage. Middle Eastern.
“Hanali.”
Craaaccckkk!
The tree was thick, but brittle. The branch she had just left snapped. It fell heavily to the ground, causing people to scatter. Now that she was over half way to the top, the wood was weaker, rotting from the top down. She had to reach further to find a good grip, earning splinters.
Some of her grabs were risky, making the men below mutter.
“How long have you been up here, Hanali?” she distracted the child as the wind blew against the tree, causing it to sway sickeningly
She pushed herself to grab the last branch and hauled herself into the fork where he was clinging to the trunk.
“A...week? Many days.”
She gave him a quick look over, spotting the backpack that had surely saved his life. “Smart to carry stuff now.”
The boy put a hand out, like he couldn’t believe she was there.
“My mother had hair like yours. Black...long.”
Angela didn’t hesitate to pull him carefully into her arms and let him cry on her chest.
“I’ve been so alone!” he wailed.
She rubbed his tangled hair comfortingly, keeping a tight grip on the tree with her legs as the wind hit them again.
“I’m here now, Hans. I’m here now.”
His thin arms tightened around her neck at the nickname his mother had used. When Angela began to whisper, he nodded against her neck.
“Okay. Eyes closed?”
She slowly shifted him into position. “Yes, and hold tight, but remember that I have to breathe. Don’t squeeze my neck.”
He was shaking, terrified, and she quickly used the rope from her belt to tie them together. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it would buy a few seconds for action.
“Okay. Onto my back, like when you were a baby.”
She held still as he slowly wrapped himself around her. His legs were thin, hard knots against her hips and she wished she had another rope to tie them around the middle as well as the wrists.
“Angela.”
She found Seth in the tree next to them, a long coil of rope over his shoulder.
She held up a hand, being careful not to overbalance, and a second later, the rope fell roughly over her fingers.
She snatched at it, got the end.
Angela slid the rope around them and carefully tied it, stomach in knots as she secured him. Now, she had to get him down.
Adrian observed with the rest of them. Sending up the rope was all he could do beyond the inflatable catchers that the men were hurrying to set up under the tree. His heart thumped as she began the slow climb down.
Her feet came first, each perch sought and tested carefully before she put their weight on it. The crowd’s muttering rose as the wind howled through the trees, shaking them. Leaves and drops of sticky liquid fell over the people.
Snap!
Angela jerked them back up as the branch gave, bending enough to tilt her feet down. Breathing roughly, she slowly eased them to the other side of the trunk, using the alternate route she’d chosen on the way up. It was almost straight down, but nearly branchless and she scaled the thick trunk like a cat, using the sides of her boots and her fingers in the bark cracks to crawl down.
As she neared the last 15 feet, the bark became too slippery to get a grip and she reluctantly switched back to the front, where the branches were wider spaced but thicker.
She eased her foot down and the branch cracked off, causing her to jerk them up against the trunk again while she recovered her balance. The rest of the branches were too thin or weak to hold them, and Angela gritted her teeth in concentration. Her arms and legs were aching with the effort it took to hold them in place against the wind. The witch was ready to handle it, but with so many witnesses, she had to be careful. Her people were just starting to accept magic. Too much of a show would have the opposite effect that she needed.
“I’m gonna drop him to you. Five seconds!” she called to the people below them.
When the boy tightened his grip, she sent a calming mutter over them both. “They’ll catch you, Hans. I promise.”
Before he could respond, she drew her blade and quickly cut through both ropes that bound them.
She heard the sound of the buoyant catchers and people murmuring in comfort... then a thick crack above her head.
The falling branch hit her arm like a dead weight and she was knocked from the tree in a heavy thud of pain, falling through toward the ground.
“I’m sorry for my sins,” was all she had time to think.
Adrian grunted at the impact, staggering as she slammed into his outstretched arms and dropped to the ground. Her head rolled against his arm, blood drops sprayed across her face from hitting the other branches on her way down.
Adrian felt his gift reach out to her, lending strength.
“Mom!”
Charlie was trying to shoulder his way through the crowd now around them.
Adrian waited without breathing for her lids to open.
Angela struggled to wake, the blow a hard one, and she winced at the brightness. Where’s the layer of grit that keeps this from happening? was her first thought and then she became aware of Adrian holding her, his face full of intense concern. What she could see over his shoulder made her heart thump with joy.
“The boat...south, then southeast.”
A second later, she opened her eyes to find herself in Adrian’s arms and surrounded by camp members. “What happened?”
Adrian let her sit up as she stiffened and slowly faded into the mob as Charlie made his way through them.
“You okay?”
She started to nod and had to close her lids as dizziness took her balance. “Yeah. Slight concussion, I think.”
She slowly pushed herself to her feet, using Charlie’s arm to steady herself, but even as he suggested she go to Doctor Brooke, she was turning toward the boy she’d brought down.
He was standing by himself, observing them with a scared, hopeful expression.
She opened her arms to him. “Welcome to Safe Haven, Hanali.”
The child didn’t hesitate.
Charlie’s firm hand on her shoulder kept her from falling when he dove into her embrace.
Angela slowly led him to the medical tent that was now being set up, swaying. Everyone was missing John and Anne, but they were grateful that another doctor had come. Their last group of new arrivals before leaving the spring had been a medical man and small group of nursing students who’d survived together by hiding inside an armored truck. Th
ey had picked up more than forty people in Little Rock, though all but Conner had joined after the fact. When Adrian’s magic had blasted through that ravaged city, not just magic users had answered his call.
“Let Dr. Brooke look at you and I’ll be in next.”
She turned away before the boy could beg her to come along. Charlie was there to steady her when she swayed.
“Mom?”
She held up a hand, concentrating, and found a pair of intense blue eyes observing her from across the hoods. No words or thoughts were spoken, but everyone felt their bond, their connection.
Charlie stiffened at her side. The feelings in that look were impossible to miss. There was something between her and Adrian, and it was strong. He went to his assigned vehicle, glaring.
“He’s hurting. We don’t like that.”
Angela didn’t glare at Lee, keeping her focus on the pain instead.
“Can you help him?”
“He wants what I’m not free to give,” Angela denied through the waves of nausea.
“But you care,” Lee protested, blurting more than he’d intended. “We all know it. You want him.”
Angela’s cheeks and neck flushed a deep crimson, and Lee flinched as her head snapped up to reveal eyes of the same color.
“Would you betray Candy?”
“To keep this from falling apart? Yes,” Lee agreed reluctantly.
Angela sighed, pulling the anger in. “So would I, but not now, not like this. Give him time, Lee. He’ll adjust.”
Lee wasn’t so sure about that, but it was heartening to have her refuse the request. He hadn’t wanted to make it. He liked Marc. They just needed Adrian more.
2
“He’s on that damn laptop again,” Samantha complained as Neil joined then. “Can’t you order him to give it a break or something?”
Neil heard the serious tone and stored it. Why was Samantha worried about that?
“Maybe. You’ll have to give him something else to do.”
Samantha snickered. “I could ask him to take my shift tonight over the teenagers. That’s always a blast.”
“We’ve got Kevin training people on the radio. One of them will take it over full time.” Neil stated quickly, not wanting Sam to get in trouble for joking during a mini-meeting.
