by Angela White
Angela didn’t want to use Marc’s absence and possible death in any way, but she couldn’t deny that it was the answer she needed. If the camp knew what Marc and his team were doing, if they were getting updates instead of cold silence, they might have hope. It was easier for the Eagles to have faith–they’d witnessed Marc in action–but the camp had been extremely sheltered under Adrian’s rule.
“And there’s no need for it anymore,” she realized. “Even me, and the others. We can be ourselves now. There’s no longer a threat of them leaving because they already are anyway.”
Angela viewed Kyle. “I’ll have some things for you to do later. Stop by my tent after the camp’s settled down.”
The mobster wrote it in his book. “You got it. Updates now or wait until you get back?”
Angela sighed resignedly. Shirking duty wasn’t allowed. “Now.”
“We have you set up to work with your team tonight during evening mess, and with the Jr. Eagles tomorrow night. Zack’s boys have asked to do third shift coffee duty for the next week–Zack’s working them hard now–and we got a great new supply idea from the woman Kenn brought from the medical center. Docks. Many boats run on gasoline. We might find some stocks of it or diesel.”
“That is a great idea. What’s the story on her and the boy?”
Kyle’s tone hardened. “She isn’t talking much yet. Says she wants the boss.”
“She’ll get me,” Angela muttered. “When will she be out of the QZ?”
The mobster’s face darkened. “I don’t think the doctor wants her out in the general population. She can’t stop her eyes from flashing.”
Angela thought of her newest addition to the plan and got it rolling. “Let her out and tell the Eagles to leave her alone unless she’s breaking a rule. I want the camp to know that she’s different.”
“What about Ty?”
“They’ll know he’s different. Don’t worry over it. He has his mother and the Eagles will be watching,” Angela assured.
“You don’t think the camp will run harder?” Kyle had to ask.
“Just the opposite,” Angela stated. “I’ve been hiding long enough and so has everyone else. If they won’t accept our magic by now, they’re not going to and we’ll fight alone.”
Like their leaders, it bothered Kyle to hear they were short people every morning, but he was often the one to tell them, as well, and the frustration and personal agony on their faces was nearly intolerable. How had Kenn stood this job?
“You said you guys would split up,” he reminded.
“Some of them will, but not me, not Samantha or Kenn,” Angela answered angrily. “We’re in this until we’re dead.”
Filled with new ideas, Angela slid into the rear of Kevin’s ride, and caught the end of their conversation.
Stop now. She can hear us.
Later?
Cynthia glanced over at Kevin, wanting to keep the hate and misery alive, but the thrill of their new discovery won.
Yes.
Angela dug out her notebook and began working on the newest plans. When she didn’t say anything, their mental conversation slowly resumed. She tried not to pay them too much attention as she worked, but she needed the distraction from the pain of what she was about to put herself through daily.
…not sure.
Never?
No, but I wondered about a few things.
Me, too.
For the herd, right?
Yes. Everything is for them.
It should be, right?
Cynthia sighed, looking out the window as they were cleared and began rolling through the gates. Maybe. Right now, I’d say yes. Later, when there are more of us, maybe not. I’m not sure that type of leadership will work.
“It won’t in a large population,” Angela stated, unable to keep quiet. “If you base even a single part of a new society on lies, the future is doomed to repeat our mistakes.”
It was a comfort to know that their leaders had been thinking on it, and they both studied her for the solution.
Angela turned the page. “We’re working on it. He has been all along and I’m adding to it. We need time.”
Angela held her notebook out toward the reporter. “I want you two on this project together.”
Cynthia only needed a quick minute to skim. She held it toward Kevin excitedly. “She has thought about it–just the way you described, but oh, man the details she added!”
Angela was satisfied. The Runners that Adrian had collected were unmatched in history. Angela suddenly hoped that other countries now had the same hope growing inside their destruction. All it took was survivors. Most of those grieved for the families and lives, but how could they not also mourn the loss of those they’d depended on? Not having a doctor or police when you needed it changed everything. It had touched parts of the world they might never have contact with again.
Angela didn’t think that was good, either. Despite the years of peace they might have, it would also give those countries time to do the same building and growing. As long as those people didn’t plan to recreate evil around the world, she wanted to stay out of it.
And if there’s an invasion? the witch asked.
Angela snorted, making her companions jump. There already was. Several, in fact, and we’ve won them all. The only way to exterminate Americans is to breed us out and with no contact between nations, that can’t happen.
But you have plans for contact, the witch pointed out. Won’t that show them how weak we are?
Angela noted the use of the word ‘we’. It was likely the first time the witch had ever felt like she belonged somewhere. Centuries of hosts and being reborn with only the basic knowledge of your past life had to be lonely.
They’ve known how weak we are for a long time. The same way we know how weak they are. We have to reach out to the descendants in other nations. As long as each country has their own guardians, we’ll have peace.
There was no argument from the witch, but Angela couldn’t afford to assume. Tell me what you see.
The witch slowly padded to a door that Angela had wondered about, but not enough to ask over. The amount of exits in her brain was endless. She could get lost for years.
The letters on the door, ICD, meant nothing to Angela.
The International Council of Descendants, the witch explained. This is what you will help bring to the world by your sacrifices and belief.
The door swung open.
Angela stared in delight at a huge, round table filled with more descendants than she could quickly count. The red orbs as they debated were unmistakable, but the protective shield over them rippling with green and gold told her they had someone controlling, making sure things didn’t get out of hand.
The room is silent, she realized. Mental meetings!
Angela wasn’t evolved enough to tap into the future conversations, but she scanned the sheets of parchment in front of them, wondering where the technology was.
Russian League of Descendants. Australian League of Descendants. American. China. Mexico. As she went around the long, oval table, it appeared all the countries that’d had survivors were represented.
In the front of this room, was a single flag. It was solid white, with one red word: Truth.
Angela was distracted briefly by the representatives themselves. Their clothes and gear was so much alike that it was startling. It was almost as if every country had adopted the same basic foundations. How would that be possible?
Her heart sank. Had one of her generations invaded another country? That wasn’t what their new world was supposed to become.
Angela went to the windows, no longer as eager to view what she’d asked for.
The first sight convinced her she was mistaken. That calm blue bubble over the city was a relief. No violent society could create such a strong barrier together. Before the war, those shields had been full of holes, but this dome vibrated happily over its hosts. Something that size would take millions of happ
y people. They’d recovered, rebuilt.
Angela picked out the flags along the fence in front of the building, and saw they were the same as the one inside–that red and white demand for honesty–but under that, was each country’s old flag. United in common goals, and still true to their origins, there was no sense of oppression or greed from the city. It was stunning.
Angela stared at the symbols of hope. She wanted this future. Could she create it?
You already are, the witch soothed, gently closing the door. Things will get harder now. Hold onto that knowledge.
6
“Shoot it with your thoughts,” Angela instructed the straining women hours later. She’d enjoyed being out of camp, but hadn’t left the vehicle, too busy writing down notes. Cynthia had enjoyed leading the other Eagles.
“Envision it, and then fire.”
The tent came alive with grunts of effort.
Angela gave her approval. “Good. We’ll do it again in a few minutes. Let yourself rest between attempts. This is stressful work and it takes a lot of energy. Make sure you have a snack before you hit your tents tonight.”
Angela waited patiently for the images to leave the front of her mind. Her team was improving on mental skills faster than physical ones. The pictures they covered her with were vivid. The ones of Marc especially and Angela held onto each of them like she was drowning.
“This time, you keep your wall up while I shoot.”
Each of their faces tightened in concentration as Angela blasted them with the horrid nightmare of Safe Haven in flames. It was one she’d seen too many nights now.
Their gasps and moans were ignored.
“This is the future as it stands right now.” Angela let the image fade, but only after each woman had time to find her loved ones in the chaos. Most were dead. “You’re rookies, we all are, but we are also the most powerful people in this camp. Not because of what we can do, but because we’ll do it together. During the chaos, you’ll be able to feed me and I’ll do the same for you. The others will help us, but it will be mostly information. We’ll be the eyes and ears. We’ll coordinate, deliver order changes, and monitor every member of our front line.”
Angela went to the board and removed the sheet over it. “This is where each of you will go when it starts. I had to account for your men grabbing you, so be sure that you do, as well. They don’t know what we’re doing. They’ll want to protect us.” Angela pierced the room with her command. “You get to your place! In any way that you have to.”
Outside the tent, Eagles strained to hear details as they walked their posts, but could only make out a few occasional words. All the men were nervous about what Angela had planned for her team. A few of them had asked and been rebuffed with the usual answer of: “Our duty.” It wasn’t enough to calm fears, only increase them.
Even Charlie had tried to find out and Angela had gently locked the door between them. Until the battle, he had to be in the dark. He was the most likely to interfere with her plan and it could cost them everything.
“You get anything?” Jake asked. He was only Level One, but he took his duties seriously and wanted the Level Three man on duty with him to know it.
“Just something about finding their post when it starts,” Alex answered with a slight edge to his voice. “You?”
“Nothing from that side.”
The forest around them groaned and popped with the sounds of growth and destruction. The thick trees swayed against each other, weakened from the war, and the noise of falling limbs had continued through the time they’d spent camped here. The rushing falls were quiet most of the time, but like with the reservoirs they’d passed that were still working, when they ran heavy, the camp knew.
Jake turned to sweep the landscape outside the fence, and felt the cool blade of a knife go around his throat and jerk.
He slid to the ground without calling an alert, softly gasping for air.
Alex wiped his knife on his Eagle jacket and went to the shadows waiting on the other side of the double fence. He worked on the inside layer with a pair of wire cutters, while his partners cut from the outside, darting quick looks over his shoulder for death. He could feel it coming for him. He’d just betrayed a brother.
Intruders slipped into Safe Haven a minute later.
7
Lee pulled up to the QZ gate and rolled down his window to clear the branch hanging over the security camera that they’d hooked up this afternoon. He leaned out to grab it.
Pain lanced into his throat and he began choking, hand coming up for protection.
The blade sliced a second time, deeper, and blood splattered the inside of the truck.
Lee slumped over as a second group of men climbed into the cab and bed. They drove straight to the gate that Lee had already checked in with over the radio. The men in the rear pulled their cloaks over themselves while the driver quickly donned Lee’s wristwatch and glasses. As he rolled by the guards, he waved, making sure the clock face flashed in the firelight.
The Eagles saw it and motioned him in. The man looked a lot like his victim. It was the reason he’d been chosen to get them inside.
The impostor pulled toward the clearly marked parking area and then swerved to the left and hit the gas, aiming for the main camp.
“Breach! We have a breach at the main gate!”
Radios blared in alarm.
The sound was echoed by gunfire as the men in the rear of the truck rose.
In the main camp, lights flashed on and the louder alarms began to wail.
Eagles returned fire more accurately than they received it, killing the imposter. The truck crashed into a water hauler before it could ram the main camp.
Taking a page from Marc’s book, Zack grabbed the grenade from his belt and made sure there were no survivors to come out of the rear.
The explosion rocked the camp. The area filled with sheep and shepherds flying toward the QZ.
8
Seth stopped suddenly, as if jerked backward by an invisible hand. The voice in his mind was drowning out everything else.
You’ve seen this ploy, before the war. It’s a trick to lure us away.
Seth slowly rotated to determine which area was the exact opposite of the QZ. He saw the tent where Angela and her team were supposed to be working out and his heart thumped. Not one of them was moving, even though he could see their kneeling shadows. There was no way they hadn’t heard the camp alarms or Zack’s solution for the truck. That only meant one thing. They couldn’t come.
Seth grabbed the nearest man’s arm, shaking him to be sure he got through. “Make Adrian and Kenn come to the training tent. We’ve got trouble.”
Shawn paled as he realized Angela was under attack again. He took off to get help.
Seth ran for the training tent, narrowing in on how many larger, taller shadows there were, and where they were standing.
As he got closer, his skin crawled and then began to heat up as if he was touching the bonfire. How dare anyone do that to her again!
9
“Do it.”
Becky struggled harder, trying to get the man’s hands off her shirt, her exposed skin. “No!”
Angela rose off her knees and the first man who’d come into the tent slapped her across the neck, knocking her to the floor.
“Stay down,” Alex ordered tonelessly. “We only need one for bait. She’ll do.”
Meaning he would let Becky be raped and then toss her out of the tent to show their seriousness. When the Eagles stormed in, all of them would go up in a blaze by the device in his hand.
Angela glared at Becky’s crying face. “You are the only one who can do this.”
Becky cringed as the man began jerked her bra down. “I don’t...I can’t.”
The man yanked Becky close as he stood up and drew his knife. He’d ripped most of her shirt off in the first struggle and the tip of his blade went straight for her nearly exposed nipple.
“Take it now!” Angela
shouted, understanding the man meant to make Becky scream.
Becky couldn’t refuse the order. She wanted to it too much to keep fighting. She stilled, clenching her lids shut. She hadn’t been fighting her attacker, only the idea of killing him this way, but the temptation was too much to resist.
The man jerked, face draining of color. Blood began to trickle from his mouth and he fell to his knees, pulling her down with him.
Becky rolled out of his grip with her gun her hand and opened fire while on her back. Her aim was incredible.
“Stop or I’ll...Ugg!”
Alex hit the button as he slid to his knees. Becky fired again, popping him an artistically sloppy hole in his forehead.
The small box broke apart a bit as it bounced against a chair.
Angela rolled on top of the device, trying to hit the switch to disarm the homemade trigger with her elbow.
Becky had no time for that, firing repeatedly, screaming her hatred as she unloaded her gun. Hired killers ducked behind the cover of the bound females, but she knew how to get around that.
“Left!”
All of the women rolled as she reloaded, creating the perfect cover. Becky opened fire again.
“Right!”
Eight darkly dressed men had come into the tent when the decoy noises had started. Seven bodies were on the floor when Seth burst inside.
“Stop!”
Angela’s shout was the only thing that kept Seth from killing the last man standing.
“We need information, Rebecca,” Angela directed, rising awkwardly to her knees. “Make sure he’ll tell me anything I want to know.”
Becky smirked eagerly, walking forward. “You got it, Boss.”
She fired twice more, emptying her gun into the man’s knees.
She reloaded a second time without any change in expression as the man shouted in agony and clutched his wounded legs.
The screams were satisfying to the female, though they worried Seth. He didn’t like the image of Becky as a killer, had been blocking it out, but this wouldn’t be forgotten and he doubted it would fade much. She was nearly as lethal as he was. What would she be like fully trained?
