by Angela White
Angela waited impatiently while Shawn untied her, the tent now filling with Eagles tending their women. Even Charlie had come, though Tracy was already free. He lovingly took the wad of duct tape from her mouth and led her from the tent with a glare at his mom.
“What were you waiting for? Why the bait?”
The sobbing man didn’t answer, and Becky lunged forward, her gun against his groin. “Answer!”
The man couldn’t get away due to the Eagles surrounding him, and it was clear that Becky wasn’t bluffing. He opened his mouth and started telling them everything they didn’t want to hear. They’d come for Jennifer, Angela, Charlie, and all the other descendants. Their orders were to kill.
When he stopped talking, Angela waved all but the top people from the tent and then faced the man without sympathy.
“You didn’t make sure I was dead before you ordered your sleaze to start touching her. Mistake.”
Starving, Angela let the witch take what she needed.
The Eagles knew to stay back, but none of them were revolted or scared. They were awed by her abilities, her determination to turn these people into fighters, and of course, they liked justice being served. It was a bonding moment that helped strengthen their loyalty to her and the others who were different. If there had been more of this type of justice before the war, there might not have been one at all.
10
“Stay close to her for a bit.”
Seth agreed with the instruction. “I plan to.”
“Good. I’ll be around.”
Seth waited for Angela to leave, then went to Becky. The teenager was digging through her kit as if she’d lost something. He wanted to help with that and the almost haunted eyes that wouldn’t meet his for more than a second or two at a time.
“You feel like doing a workout? We’ll run the gate course.”
Becky made sure she sounded normal. “Nope. I want to go on the next supply run and I haven’t passed my next Kai lesson yet. I’ll be practicing after I shower.”
Seth didn’t argue. She sounded okay and appeared steady enough, but there was a sense that things weren’t fine. “I have to go switch shifts. I’ll be right back.”
That got a cheerful, “I’ll be the one searching for a toe warmer.”
Seth only searched her face before leaving. Something wasn’t right and it was more than the new bruises or torn clothes.
Becky shoved the bags and pouches into the bag and took the Advil without bothering to go for a drink. Her head was throbbing.
Compared to Rick, this hadn’t been anything, but the flashes it had given her were awful. She could hear the gunshot, could almost smell his breath on her. Rick was a ghost that wasn’t going to leave.
Becky searched in her kit for a tissue, feeling the tears coming, and found something hard and round. She withdrew it slowly, mind making the connection.
The small vial still held the powder Rick had given her. Becky stared at it for a long time, lost in her nightmares. Only Seth’s cheerful voice outside the tent woke her. She quickly stuffed the vial into her kit and donned a smile as he came inside. “Want to wash my hair for me again?”
Seth immediately turned for the showers. As they walked, he could feel her drifting and was suddenly sure it would be a rough night. “Would you like a pill?”
He’s so perceptive it’s scary, she thought.
“Not yet. I may not need it.”
Seth tugged her closer for a quick hug. “I’m proud of you.”
Becky didn’t ask what for. It didn’t matter. Until she was proud of herself, no one else’s opinion did, and her mind said she still had a long way to go to make up for what she’d done. Rick and the slavers had been the perfect distraction to keep Adrian from discovering all the spies that the government had sent into this camp. More than half of their assassins had been here since South Dakota or before, and that was dangerous. No one knew who to trust, who might turn out to be a traitor. Tempers and suspicions were running at peak. Angela would have to do something to settle them down.
11
Angela went to the mess, where most of the camp was still gathered, talking and observing the cleanup. When she started speaking, they all stopped to listen.
“One of the intruders gave us information–good news, for a change. Marc and his team are alive and doing damage. They’ve started fighting. He’s gathered over three hundred men.”
There was a loud cheer, both for the wait being over and for hearing from Marc.
“It looks like we’ll have another two weeks at least before either group gets here.” Angela waved off the questions, too upset to continue lying. “I don’t have anything else. The man died before he could tell us more. Becky’s shot was nice.”
She left the crowd at the mess with something they hadn’t had since learning the government was coming.
“If he’s doing damage, maybe we do have a chance…”
“He’s a badass. I knew it the minute I saw him.”
“Brady will cut them in half. We’ll be able to handle the rest.”
“And he’ll be here by then, to help.”
“Yeah!”
Angela waved Kevin over. “I want you to start doing the Ghost broadcasts tonight, giving open updates on anything we learn about Marc’s team.”
Kevin approved of what his mind came up with. “You’re gonna pull some people back in.”
“Maybe,” she answered. “But if it only keeps these here from leaving, that’ll be enough.”
Kevin went straight to the com truck to broadcast what they’d learned, going over the right words to use. He could whip them into a frenzy if he had the right information to feed and it wouldn’t be just this camp. The other survivors out there listening, waiting to find out who won, would tune in regularly for news.
“Maybe we can pull in some more fighters,” Kevin mused, sliding into the cool truck. “God knows we need them.”
12
Unable to calm down enough to sleep, Angela gathered the men she thought best suited and closed the flap on the training tent.
“I’m going to teach you to listen.”
There were confused looks as Angela settled herself, and she let them stew as she got comfortable.
“Just like a gun, your mind shoots,” she began, opening her case. “Some people can’t send or receive, we’ve learned that together. What one of you can do, not all of you can.”
She paused to light a fat joint. “But I’m confident that everyone in this tent is capable.”
She inhaled deeply and blew the smoke toward the east. She quickly inhaled again and blew it toward the west this time. Twice more for the remaining directions, then she tossed it to Kyle.
“Do what I do.”
She took a second joint out and did the same thing before passing it to him again. “It’s a type of magic we do, be it in here with our minds or out there with our guns.”
She got a third rolled smoke going and her eyes took on that high glow they’d all come to associate with someone being very stoned. Except she didn’t stumble or slur, and it added to the respect these twenty men held for her. Two full teams, plus Adrian, were here.
“We all feel it and we love it. With my help, maybe we can share something more from it.”
Angela’s face tightened suddenly and she took a fourth joint from the pack and lit it in the same manner as the others. She pitched it toward the nervous man lurking restlessly near the door.
“Get stoned, will ya? You’re wrecking our vibes.”
The men laughed when Adrian grinned at the scold. “Yes, ma’am.”
Another round of amusement came as he sat down and fired it up.
“You keep that one. Everyone else; hit and pass. When those are gone, we’ll find out if we can reach a new level of teamwork.”
There was a companionable quiet broken by an occasional voice or movement. Angela took a moment to try and make herself fully relax. She was determined that this lesson woul
d be successful.
“We are a team. We eat, breathe, and live together, and yet, we don’t know our fellow men. The war caused people to erect barriers of many types, but fear is always the hardest to get through. For us to conquer that last wall, we have to be open with each other. To do that, we’ll spend one minute talking to the Eagle on our right and the same for the left. I want you to tell them a secret, something you can’t talk about with the camp.”
Angela glanced at her watch. “Start now.”
She turned to Kyle, brow raised and he smirked. “Ladies, first.”
Angela was ready for him. “Everyone one of us who’ve been cursed this way has been outcasts. Being here with Adrian makes some of that pain go away, but I wish I’d never had to hide who…what I am.”
Kyle’s voice was sympathetic. “Adrian knew.”
“Yes, and I still trust him as much as you do. That gives us another common ground, yes?”
Kyle grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
She gestured. “Your turn.”
The mobster hesitated. “I...want to make Jenny my legal mate and give her a son to replace the one she lost.”
“How does she feel about that?”
Kyle grunted. “She’s still planning on leaving, I think. Doesn’t say much, but she stares at the mountains.”
“She doesn’t want to go.”
“No,” Kyle confirmed. “She wants to be able to stay in camp, but the memories are hurting her.”
“And you think if she had a son, it would ease that.”
Kyle sighed heavily. “I don’t know. She’s in pain and I have no idea how else to comfort her.”
“Have you...offered?”
Kyle snorted. “No.”
“Why not? It’s been long enough medically, and there’s no camp trouble in your way now. Why delay?”
Kyle’s face was twisted with hunger and control. “She’s not ready for that side of me.”
Angela picked up the images, but didn’t scold him like her first instinct said to. “Maybe you should talk to her about it, find out where she stands on things. If you two are going to be alone together, that’s good information to have.
Kyle agreed. He just didn’t know how to bring it up.”
“Time. Switch sides if you haven’t already.”
The air inside the tent was thick with hope and smoke as Adrian watched her methods work. He wasn’t allowed to use this light touch on them, but she could. When she called time again, he saw many conversations he suspected would be continued later. She was bringing them together in ways he had no access to and he would show his gratitude.
“Start listening for me. When I give you a number, remember it.”
Her lack of action after those words confused them until they heard her voice in their minds and realized she was already working.
“Okay, everyone got a number?” she asked a few minutes later.
“I don’t,” Adrian stated.
“Eagles, tell Adrian what his number is,” Angela instructed.
“One!”
It was a loud chorus and she went on. “Last number was twenty. Stand up in reverse order and pay attention. I’m the only one allowed to talk.”
She observed them with a bit of pride and a lot of warmth. She could feel many of them wanting her to stand up for the number two spot. She placed Kyle there instead and stayed sitting.
As Adrian stood, she looked up at them.
“Imagine this type of communication during an attack or mission. It’s an advantage that no other army has ever had. We are the first.” She gave them a moment to consider and then waved a hand. “You’re determination will decide if you can do this without my help. I can show you how to do it, but that won’t be enough. You have to want it.”
She checked her watch, and then gestured at the floor. “Get comfortable, gentlemen. We’re going to make some more magic.”
Chapter Nineteen
Hit and Run
August 1st
Colorado
1
Thud!
The noise woke the soldiers closest to it. They glanced around in confusion, trying to find the source.
Thud!
Smack!
Hiss…
The center of the platoon scrambled way from that sound. Snakes were a common way to die in the Utah bunker they’d come from.
Thud!
Waking now, the men were rising, grabbing for weapons as the noises grew closer together.
Thud! Slam! Whap!
Bags and boxes rained on them, tubs and bowls, and in each, was a snake or scorpion.
“Get under cover! Find cover!”
The order echoed off the walls of the canyon, but the command hadn’t ordered canopies erected. The soldiers had nowhere to go as the dangerous animals fell into their campsite. With the darkness only broken by their torches and campfires, it was impossible to determine who was sending them.
“Get them up! Up! Up!”
Men followed orders, not panicked but leery for the next hit and quick to crunch anything alive under their boots. That changed as the surviving animals began to attack. There were only a few deaths, but more than three dozen men were stung or bitten, and it sent a powerful message. There would be no comforting sleep, not the kind they’d been enjoying. It was a reminder that this was war and mental battles would be fought. Marc could have killed a large number of them here, but that would increase their security procedures too quickly. Besides that, wounded men always slowed things up and that’s why they’d come–to buy time.
“But if I get the chance…” Marc waved to the men to fall back as teams of soldiers began assembling to investigate. “Let’s get some sleep while they play ‘who is that in the rocks?’”
The other ghosts snickered and followed him down into their hole to wait for the next moment of attack.
As Marc pulled the cover over the hiding place, he picked out the moon and let it vanish slowly. “Good night, baby-cakes.”
He slid down the rope and jerked it loose. Stashing it in his pocket, he turned to the men who were taking places around the cold fire pit. “Let’s go over tomorrow’s set, then we’ll get some sleep. Five hours from now, an entire platoon will be on top of us. Remember…”
“We are ghosts,” they chanted in an intimidating whisper.
Marc kept working them up, guiding them. Physically, they were ready. Mentally, they were all scarred refugees forced into fighting for their friends and family. It might not be enough to save them, but they would do damage now, while the road was clear to run. When they hit 40, that wouldn’t be possible. They would trail the soldiers and keep pecking at them until the wound was a giant hole for their men to gush through.
Tomorrow, they would ride hard and be reunited with his rookies shortly after that. Being able to cut straight across the land on a horse was a time-saver that allowed him to appear to really be a Ghost to those who didn’t already believe it.
Marc wondered how many men were waiting for him, but didn’t let himself worry over it. Fifty or five hundred, they would do damage. Jax and Paul should at least have a large part of 40 wired by now with all the hands he’d sent them. That would be a tough route to follow, but once they marched a single foot onto 40, the soldiers would have no other choice.
2
“Hit the deck!”
Marc’s men lunged for the ground as the grenade sailed into the crags behind them.
Kablammm!
Marc waved them forward. “Now! Go! Go!”
Natoli and Thaddeus fired their launchers together, and Marc waved for them to get down even before their shots exploded.
Kablamm!
Dirt and rock rained over the rebels like a downpour, slicing and clouding vision.
Boom! Boom!
“Pull back!” Marc shouted, still counting the seconds. “Get out of here!”
Shadow Riders scattered in the brief pause, not waiting to verify that their shots had landed.
Marc waited for the next blast of incoming fire, able to sense where it would land. He lunged aside and barely avoided being caught in the small rockslide.
Ears ringing, Marc hefted his own launcher and fired the last shell.
Kablamm!
He went straight south instead of the east or west flee that the soldiers expected. Their shells exploded harmlessly as Marc slid down the rocky path and vanished into the small town.
Marc spotted several of his men also moving toward their next trap and joined them along the wall. They had fighters waiting here.
Marc gave the code as he and the others burst through the door. “Drop those pants! It’s a go! Go!”
Kablamm!
Boom!
The sounds of the fighting arriving on their doorstep sent an unpleasant shiver of adrenaline through every man there.
“Fire!”
“Fire!”
Marc held the door for the men to flee out the other side of the building as their group across the street blew a stash of C-4. Wired to a shallow patch under the dirt, it was aimed at the only bridge. The soldiers would be forced to clear it or go around.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Marc ducked the noise of incoming fire, even though he and his men were clear. It was stunning, disorienting.
He shoved the man in front of him toward their next hole and was glad when the others followed. There wasn’t time or workers to keep track of everyone, but his main group, he knew the whereabouts of.
“Down!”
Marc stayed standing as the whistle grew louder, trying to pinpoint. He was relieved when it went east of them.
“Go! Go!”
Marc herded his small crew down the stairwell and led them through the darkness. They splashed unhappily across the street and came up through the basement of a store. Though it had been months, the smells were still rough.
Marc waved them into the small bomb cellar in the rear of the basement and shut the door. In fifteen minutes, when the center of the troops came by, the vulnerable element from the sides and bottom, they would blow this place and go underground to a third wired setup.
