LAW Box Set: Books 4-6 (Life After War Book 0)
Page 61
2
“This is Safe Haven refugee camp. Is anyone there?” Kevin paused to let answers come, but there was only silence in the chilly morning air. He tugged his scarf closer to his cheeks and tried again. “Hello? This is Safe Haven. We are at Lookout Mountain. Can anyone hear me?”
The radio crackled emptily in response.
Kevin hung up the mike, worrying. “Been that way since midnight. Not a word.”
Marc reached in and flipped the channel to one that they hadn’t used since Little Rock. He concentrated on the humming static, aware of the rest of the large camp behind him that was already awake and preparing. Knives clanked, guns fired, men and women grunted. It was soothing to the former Marine.
Safe Have had lost dozens of men and the same was true of the camps around theirs. Their ratio had been 4 to 1, but the toll was the same. Many of their best fighters were gone now. Second string was about to win or lose the game. Training on this rough terrain for the last couple of weeks had been genius on Angela’s part.
“They’re probably jamming us on long range.”
Kevin didn’t relax. “Are we ready for it?”
“No one ever is,” Marc stated gravely. “Unless you’re doing the attacking. It’s different from that side.”
The planes had stopped bringing soldiers to the base, but there was a large force there, waiting for what? Only Angela knew for sure, but Marc thought it was for orders. They hadn’t had a man at the base who could handle Safe Haven. The envelopes being delivered and the radio going cold at the same time wasn’t a coincidence.
“Will we win?” Kevin dropped his head. He hadn’t wanted to let that question out. Too many people were already asking it.
Marc zipped up his leather coat and left without responding. It was a lie that he hadn’t been able to say yet, not even to Angela. Right now, he still didn’t think so. They were still outnumbered and piecing together a secondary army of tailors, and traders with treasure hunted weapons. The odds certainly weren’t in their favor.
Marc snickered tiredly at his mental joke and allowed himself to be drawn to the firing range despite promising not to interfere with how much Angela was doing. Living up here was an adjustment. She was doing well.
Marc observed from behind the barrels of gunpowder as Angela roughly shoved a rookie.
“You don’t touch the guns yet. This is the second time I’ve said it. Do it a third and you’re out!”
Marc winced at the shrill snap, but the men around her nodded their agreement. She had a different style of working with people. She was hands-on, in their face as much as any drill sergeant he’d ever known, but she had the power to enforce every threat she made. It was something people knew even without her Eagle detail.
That group of guards on her was excessive, but Marc had refused to cave to her pouting when he had doubled it. She wasn’t just his light. She was the light of this camp and she would be safe above everything else. If they lost her, Safe Haven would be deserted in a few hours.
“We won’t.” Adrian answered the thought from behind Marc, keeping his distance. It had only been a few days since Marc’s return. Adrian’s bruises were still bright, condemning. He had been released from the medical tent last night, wrapped in a blanket and wearing paper slippers. As he’d gone to his own canvas, alone, Adrian had vowed to survive. Angela had given him work and he would do it. He hadn’t expected her plans to include him.
Neither had Marc. “What do you need?” he barked. He hated it that Adrian’s heart attack had interrupted his plans for their former leader. The need to punish this man hadn’t faded after hitting him a few times. In fact, it was stronger.
Adrian’s lips thinned into a hard line as he waited for Marc to look at him. When he finally did, Adrian grinned happily through the healing wounds on his mouth. “I’m supposed to distract you for a minute.”
Marc scowled, fists clenching. “From what?”
Behind him, a loud cheer and clapping echoed.
“From that,” Adrian answered. He waited calmly for Marc’s reaction. He would push the wolfman now, while he could, and enjoy every second of it.
Marc turned around to see a line of rookies clumsily rolling and firing. None of them did it through the entire course, but the trainer clearly had.
“Did she ask you to do it?”
“It was on my list,” Adrian stated, chuckling bitterly. “And it wasn’t a request.”
Soothed on that front, Marc shrugged. “Tell her you were successful. I missed it.”
“She meant in a way that you wouldn’t ride her ass about it later.”
“Then you didn’t do so well.”
“Yeah,” Adrian smirked, lifting the collar of his Eagle jacket. “Sorry about that.”
He moved away with a satisfied step.
Marc let him. Whatever plans their former leader had, he was ready for it.
Marc pretended he hadn’t noticed the loud cheer as he studied his mate.
“Wait. Do a press check.” Angela pulled her own weapon and demonstrated to a different rookie, Kip, in the group she was instructing. “Pull it back a little and make sure there’s a round chambered. You’ll stop popping shells all over the place.”
Marc appeared to be concentrating on their perimeter, but he was narrowed in on Angela’s graying hair and her flushed, scarred skin. He wanted some alone time.
Will you waste it scolding her? the demon asked.
Marc smiled. “Maybe. She’s reckless.”
The witch has her under control.
Marc actually laughed aloud and drew attention from those closest. He waved them on as he went back to his mental conversation.
No one has my baby-cakes under control.
Sounds like you approve. That didn’t used to be the case.
Marc’s good humor faded instantly. I understand why now. How can any of us hold all this inside and not be wild? I had my time in the Corps. She’s having hers here.
Dangerous for your child.
Marc stopped responding.
The demon faded. Marc hadn’t asked yet about Adrian’s words on Angela’s health, but he would. The demon could feel it coming.
Marc continued his rounds, pointing his mind at the bigger picture. He didn’t have time to stress over the baby. He had hundreds of souls that needed care. All the groups he’d fought with had come and then more. Their families and friends were pouring in.
“Until yesterday, anyway,” Marc muttered, thinking about the silent radio and slowed front gate. They’d assumed the government would shut down communications, but he hadn’t expected it so soon.
One of the Eagles is a Ham man. He’ll be able to verify it, the demon offered.
Marc allowed his thoughts to flow as he moved by the mess. It was full, like usual. When people weren’t eating, they were gathered together to draw strength and compare new feats. If he could get them to show that type of bonding during training, they might have a chance, but these men and women all had their own ways of doing things. Getting them to cooperate or compromise was beyond hard. The number of fights kept growing.
They’re scared, the demon said.
“So am I.”
Good. You’ll survive.
Angela’s snarl floated over the camp, drawing his attention for a moment. The sound was enough to speed up his heart. “So will she. So will this camp. I’ll find a way.”
The demon didn’t argue. He hadn’t found a way and neither had Angela’s witch, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. He was spending a lot of time searching for anything that might help. He wouldn’t give up until the last second, but then he and the witch had their own plans to follow. Marc and Angela might be willing to give their lives in this freedom fight, but both the witch and the demon had agreed that even an existence in captivity was better than being forced out. Searching the world for another compatible person might take decades now, if it happened at all. Their current hosts had to live.
3
Kendle read it with a scowl. She hadn’t expected one of those all-important envelopes, and one hadn’t been delivered.
“I’m not a cook.”
“You’re an eater, right?” Kenn asked, running low on patience. “Pull your weight.”
“Fuck you!”
Kenn shrugged, eyeing Tonya, who was in line nearby at the showers. “If you think that’ll help your attitude.”
Kendle didn’t want to laugh and managed not to. “Tell her I’m not doing it.”
“You tell her!” Kenn shouted, losing his patience. “Where the hell did Marc find you?”
“Standing on her husband’s grave,” Marc stated, coming up behind them. He’d just left the bathroom that Kendle was in line for. “Have some sympathy. She survived being eaten alive. Could you?”
Kenn blanched. He actually thinking to offer compassion, but Kendle was already storming away. Kenn trailed her, thinking he should probably apologize or Angela might make him pay for it later.
Kenn followed the castaway around the rear of the bathrooms and back into the main camp. What is she doing?
It only took Kenn a minute to figure out that she was stalking someone. When he saw who it was, the Marine quickly caught up.
“Not a good idea,” Kenn advised, slowing Kendle down with a firm hand on her arm. Angela was out here, with her gun in hand!
Too late, Marc warned from ahead of them. He didn’t return for the fight that Kenn was sure was coming. Marc knew better. Kendle wasn’t stupid, just obsessed.
Kenn let go of her arm as he realized the two women were now face-to-face. Angela had answered the challenge in Kendle’s thoughts.
“Be very careful,” Kenn warned.
Angela was staring with crimson orbs, promising silently that she was capable of everything Kendle had already suffered and more.
“Fine!” Kendle snapped, detouring for the mess instead of tracking Marc.
Kenn gave Angela an exasperated glower before heading after Kendle. Angela knew Kendle had to be babysat and so far, that’s all Kenn had been given to do. His envelope was full of other papers, though. He had no doubt that Angie would endanger his life as soon as she could. Before, he would have resented this first chore, but with Angela set to send everyone into flames, he would accept any easy duty she wanted to hand him. Her level of chaos was beyond normal, even for the military. He’d been talking with the surviving men who’d fought alongside Marc and the consensus was that their Ghost was invincible, lethal. These same awed men, upon meeting Angela, had immediately given her the name Wendigo. Atolius had later told Kenn it meant The Evil that Devours.
Her inside voice must to be absolute evil, Kenn thought. His days of crossing her were certainly over. Anyone who tried had better watch his or her six.
4
“There’s too many of them here.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know.”
“Yeah, I guess I do.”
The conversation between two non-eagles had gained attention, but neither man noticed. They were leaning against the rear of a semi instead of unloading the supplies from it.
“It doesn’t feel as if we’re fighting for America. It’s like those freaks are the new government.”
“I think so, too, but most of the camp feels we won’t win without them.”
“Probably won’t win either way.”
The Eagles on sentry duty nearby listened to the words with anger. There wasn’t anyone else on this chore. The bitter camp men, who thought they were alone, weren’t censoring their words.
“Some are leaving again.”
“Normal. People get scared. They’ll return if we win.”
“So, you are staying?”
“Yes. Freaks aside, the government has to go and I’m not so stupid that I think we can win without magic.”
“And if we do win?”
“I’d say we’ll have a private meeting and then the freaks won’t be in charge here anymore.”
The Eagles had heard enough. They left their posts, drawing the attention of the snipers, who covered it as soon as they realized the threat was inside their population.
Aware of the conversation–he’d been tracking it–Marc didn’t stop them from the beating, nor did he interfere with the violent ejections through Safe Haven’s front gate with only the clothes on their backs. Traitors and assassins weren’t welcome here.
Marc did understand why the descendants were considered so strange, how it was making the camp members uncomfortable and a bit jealous. He sympathized. He had been on that end of it before facing who he really was. They would eventually come to the same realizations. Magic was in every soul. It was finding the door to access it that was a bitch.
“She won’t like that. She says they have a right to question their leaders.”
“Make sure she knows that I disagree.” Marc looked over at Kyle with cool detachment. “You are her spy now, right?”
Disheartened, Kyle finished pulling on his gloves and turned for the target area, for Angela. “I’m not your enemy, Marc.”
“You’re not my friend, either,” Marc responded hotly. “If you were, Adrian would be dead!”
Shocked, Kyle rotated to protest, but Marc had vanished.
Kyle snorted angrily and continued on to Angela. He reported the loss of two more men quickly and left, not waiting to witness another part of what Adrian wanted. Their former leader hoped to keep Marc and Angie at each other’s throats. That would distract Marc, get him killed, and then Adrian could gradually bring her back. It was the secret plan of every man with a serious rival, but thanks to the apocalypse, Adrian was now able to live it. Marc was right. Killing him was the only solution.
Nearby, Angela’s anger lashed out in a sharp blast.
Kyle screamed as pain flared brightly along his spine. His knees crumbled and he hit the dirt with a gasp as the fire increased.
“Angie!” Marc grabbed her by a scarred shoulder. Her eyes were roiling flames.
“Adrian is not to be killed.”
The tone was without compromise, chilling in its rabid need.
“I’m trying not to plan it,” Marc gave in slowly. “I really am.”
“Friendlies at the front gate,” the radio cracked, interrupting the tense moment.
Angela jerked away, ignoring Kyle’s flinch as she stormed by. He was slowly recovering, but the mental pain hadn’t faded completely.
Marc helped Kyle to his feet. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” Kyle offered, taking a deep breath as Angela got out of sight and the fire subsided from his spine. “The clear shot was there more than once.”
“Why didn’t you?” Marc asked curiously.
“Because she loves him and we need her.”
It was something Marc had already faced and he shrugged. “We can’t plot against her. She gets cranky.”
Kyle wasn’t amused. “She shouldn’t have done it so openly. The herd is already spooked.”
“Yes.” Marc’s tone dropped into low warning. “The enemy is coming. She’s trying to spook you. She wants everyone angry, ready to fight.”
Kyle considered his own feelings now and gave a curt nod. “That’ll do it.”
Marc didn’t think anger would matter in the end. The levels of manipulations going on here were well above anything Adrian had been doing, but it still wouldn’t be enough.
“One face for the world, one for yourself,” Marc muttered, going to check the rear gate of the camp.
During any chaos, members would now be able to get to whatever exit was the nearest to them, instead of crushing each other to get through a single funnel. The sirens wailing were Angela’s deadline for backing out of the chores she’d assigned in those dreaded envelopes, and Marc thought it was more than fair. She was giving them every chance to escape the coming bloodbath. He r
espected her for it, even as he mourned losing the men and women who were choosing not to fight or stay.
“Nothing’s the same now,” was the most common answer. Marc understood. For many reasons, they’d delayed the monthly meetings, camp meetings, daily schedules, level tests, adoptions, underage couple interviews, and runs out of camp for gathering supplies. It was time to hunker down and finish this job before nature unleashed her winter fury on them. If snow came before the battle, they would lose.
Marc noted the newest group coming in to visit and detoured that way, though he wasn’t worried over having problems. He simply wanted to see how Angela was doing with their Indian guests. She hadn’t protested their presence here, but he thought maybe she didn’t like it, just the same. He was still looking for clues as to why.
5
“Please tell him I’m not mad,” Angela insisted.
Red Stone tried not to frown as he said, “Our ways are clear. He must make amends for the curse to be lifted.”
The Indian leaders of the camps around them were here daily to visit Marc, with many of the braves coming and going through Safe Haven’s gates as if they were members. It was easy to see they weren’t, though. The natives were still nearly naked and enjoying the brisk wind, while Safe Haven had made the switch to heavier coats and gloves. A change of season was on the way. When the wind ran down the cliffs, it felt like a frigid spell might be coming. Angela was counting on it holding until her plan was done, but even if it buried them all in feet of early powder, the war couldn’t be halted now.
Angela stared at Atolius with a calm expression, but inside, she was annoyed. The Indian had let it slip about Marc and Kendle, and now thought she had cursed him.
Like he’d be standing there, only sweating, if I’d cursed him, Angela thought.
The witch inside cackled at Angela’s quip.
Red Stone extended the small pouch again and Angela impatiently reached out for it this time, bumping his hand.
The peace offering flew into the air and hit Stanley, their clumsy medic who taking a shift on gate duty.