by Angela White
Get your body set, plan the moves.
Muscles flexed a bit, fingers dug into the dirt for a light coating to grip with. She would kick up to loosen the dirt, lunge from her hole, and pause for a two-count to get her bearings amid the men she could feel walking overtop of her now.
Four. Five. Six.
Prepare yourself by imagining exactly what will happen. Hear it, smell it, taste it.
Cynthia saw herself limping to the waiting weapon, jerking the tree cover rope as shouts of spotting her echoed and possible gunfire came.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
Keep firing until your guards drag you off or the soldiers are all dead.
That was the suicide part of the run and Cynthia saw herself being careful with her aim so that she could still be alive when her guards arrived.
It was a relief, now that the moment was here, to know she wasn’t alone.
Cynthia finished the count with no thoughts of anything except the plan she’d just gone over.
Ten.
Give them no mercy.
Cynthia sucked in a calming breath and kicked upward with both legs to loosen the dirt.
Daryl and Kevin were running toward the battle side-by-side, aware of the screams, the explosions, but mostly of Cynthia’s almost constant firing. She was shouting, one long cry of ‘do or die’, and the panic was a shared torment. They stayed behind the trees, coming down to where she was firing from as the entire squad of soldiers flooded toward her.
Another explosion echoed, followed by four more in rapid succession. The first wave of soldiers was killed with the well-aimed grenades. Bodies flew across the battlefield.
Another line of men came over the corpses as Cynthia reloaded and she paused long enough to slam her hand into the box she’d secured to the tree.
The trigger clicked. She ducked as the branches flew out and hit the soldiers who were still under orders to take hostages. Men and guns spewed through the air as Cynthia hurriedly dropped the huge shells into place.
“Come on!”
“Let’s go!”
Cynthia heard her escorts arrive, but she wasn’t wasting a full load. She jerked the trigger with calculated pauses between, taking out specific targets–the two front vehicles, a rear truck shaped like a tank, and a cluster of soldiers trying to get to their radiophones.
In the distance, a much bigger explosion echoed, impossible to pinpoint a direction on, but Kevin and Daryl didn’t have time to worry over it. They each grabbed an arm and started dragging Cynthia away from the scene as the remaining dozen men came flooding over the wreckage, firing.
Cynthia kicked out at a second black box on the tree, but missed.
“Hit that button!” she screamed, struggling.
Daryl slammed a hand against it and then used brute strength to lift Cynthia onto his shoulder.
Cynthia twisted to take the blow with her hip, ducking as another line of branches swung out.
Kevin was hit by the tip of the longest branch, and knocked onto his back as it flew by to smack into the running soldiers.
Kevin jumped up, gun ready, and began firing at the wounded survivors who were trying to do the same.
Still over Daryl’s shoulder, Cynthia also started firing.
Daryl turned so she could get a better aim, raising his own weapon, and the trio stayed face-to-face with their enemy as they killed them. The shock of a dead woman rising from the ground to fire a multi-shot grenade launcher had given Cynthia the advantage.
Trapped in the middle of the convoy, three younger soldiers held up their hands in surrender, begging not to be killed.
Daryl felt Cynthia tense for the next shots and spun her so that the slugs plunged into the ground instead, his ears ringing. The soldiers capable of fleeing, did so.
“Hey!”
Daryl swung her down as Kevin came to his side.
Cynthia stopped protesting as she realized what she’d been about to do. She frowned a bit, considering. “I was told no mercy.”
Before either man could stop her, she whirled around and opened fire.
She got all three of the man who had unwisely chosen to run down the middle of the debris-covered street. They made perfect targets among the flames and smoke.
Daryl and Kevin both shouted, but they didn’t interfere when she began walking the bloody battlefield, executing the survivors she found. After a minute, both men reluctantly joined her. Their only orders had been to keep Cynthia alive and be her support.
Cynthia stopped in the center of the carnage to read the next envelope. She found only one sheet of paper.
Stay with Marc until Kenn goes rogue, then get to me at the first campsite.
Cynthia looked up to find Daryl and Kevin on full alert as shadows came in from the north.
Marc stepped over the pile of bodies, impressed and horrified.
Kenn handled the moment, relishing the feel of being in battle. “Donner’s biggest camp is two miles from here, which means machine guns, heavy gates, lots of guards. We’re staying low and waiting on one more.”
Cynthia immediately started searching through the bodies for anything she could use.
Kevin took a place by her side, angry now that she was safe. “Why did you have to do it that way? You could have been hurt! What are you trying to–”
“I was supposed to die here, Kevin,” Cynthia interrupted tonelessly. “Please don’t nag me on my Death Day.”
She left him standing there in shocked amusement and revulsion. He’d never been more confused.
Daryl also wanted a word with Cynthia and she braced for it as he stepped in front of her.
Daryl smiled. “Please don’t kill me for this, okay?” He leaned in, moving slowly, and placed a kiss on her cheek. “Nice job.”
The reporter felt it then, the difference in her attractions, the gaps between all the men she’d ever been attracted to, and then it vanished, leaving only Daryl standing knowingly in front of her.
Too enrapt to care about who was watching, Cynthia moved into Daryl’s arms and let him hold her. She’d killed again and loved every second of it. Human contact would help bring her back from the cloud she’d put herself under when she’d been facing her own mortality.
Only a bit surprised, Daryl wrapped his arms around her. His ears stopped ringing, stomach began settling. He was aware of Kevin’s outrage and Marc’s approval, but the feel of Cynthia in his arms was too good to miss any part of and he shut them out.
“Thank you,” she whispered against his big chest.
“My honor,” he rumbled, refusing to let go yet. When she didn’t pull away, Daryl felt his heart shift into a more serious rhythm, one of contentment and determination.
“Can I feed you while they’re working on things?” he offered.
“Yeah, my boy may eat you, if I don’t feed him soon.”
Daryl chuckled and slid a hand to her hip. His big fingers reached half way around her waist and Cynthia groan at the feel of the heat on her skin after being in the ground for days.
“Easy, son. I’ve got her covered.”
Cynthia laughed and then went quiet as her stomach and headache eased.
“Wow.”
Daryl felt her relax and grinned wider. “He likes me. Cool.”
She stared up at him in leery surprise. “How do you know?”
Daryl steered her toward the tree line, where his kit had been left. “I’ve been one of the guards over Jennifer’s baby since she was born. Cute kid. Talks too much though.”
“But she can’t…”
Cynthia immediately began pelting Daryl with questions as he led her out of the bloodbath.
Marc and Kevin had stopped to watch the new couple, one thinking Angela was smart and the other thinking she was unbelievably cruel.
“Man, I never even got to be inside that!” Kevin whined lowly.
“Maybe the fact that sex is your first grief, is why she never spread them for you in the first place,” Marc observe
d coolly. “Good women can sense it when they’re about to make a mistake.”
“But I didn’t get a chance to think it over!” Kevin refuted. “It hasn’t even been a week.”
“She spent days hiding under the ground, waiting to die. She obviously spent the time productively,” Marc pointed out coolly.
“How can you be so unfeeling?” Kevin snarled, hurting and angry.
“I’m not the one who gave up a dream because he couldn’t swallow enough pride to raise a fatherless child. That was your choice.”
Marc joined Kenn on the salvage, leaving Kevin alone to smother his regret.
3
What am I supposed to do now? What did my orders say?
Kendle and Tonya’s thoughts were identical, though they were miles apart. Kendle was alone, trudging toward her last known location in hopes of meeting up with any of their people. Her orders said to rescue Tonya, but the only way she could do that was with help, so she was trying to find Kenn. It was what Tonya had wanted, though Kendle was counting on Marc being with the Marine.
Kendle trotted faster, hoping Tonya would be okay. Despite the friction, she kinda liked the redhead.
Tonya, now wedged between uneasy soldiers as their jeep flew toward the last base camp, was being as obnoxious as she’d been ordered to.
“So, like, how many of you guys are left? My boss said she’d kill a hundred a day once the real shit hit the fan. Guess that means in a week, you guys could be the last soldiers here.” Tonya smiled sweetly. “That’s something to look forward to, right?”
“Shut up,” the driver growled, but none of the others supported him. Want to or not, they were listening to her. Being sent out here had been bad, but since Donner had landed, life had become a wakeful nightmare.
“You’ve been promised passes, or women and promotions, or maybe Donner said you’ll be with him when he’s running things. But I wonder if he can be trusted... Did you know his personal team is dead? They tried to take our den and my boss killed them all. Guess Donner won’t have the backup he’s counting on.”
Tonya didn’t know if any of these things were fact or not. Her orders had supplied the details to use while manipulating their fears, but it hadn’t been hard to imagine it happening. Except for the last one she used. It was impossible. “The Ghost will come for me, you know? We’re close.”
The jeep slowed as the driver turned to look at her, to judge if she was lying. The other men did the same.
“You mean the wolf?”
“I mean Marcus Brady, the Ghost, who you’ve been told is dead,” Tonya insisted, enjoying their stunned expressions. “He’s very…fond of me.”
Tonya leered like a mistress would and the men groaned.
“Man, this run just keeps getting worse,” the driver stated, easing on the gas.
“Yeah,” the man next to him agreed. “But hey, we can switch with the next team going out and then get clear of this zone.”
“Not sure the next zone is far enough,” the driver answered in a grumble, glaring at Tonya in the mirror.
“Me either, come to think of it,” the passenger man agreed. “But we won’t get out of there if Red shoots off her mouth.”
“Me?” Tonya inquired cheerfully. “I think you should dart me when we hit your camp. Then that can’t happen.”
The men liked the idea, but didn’t trust her.
“Why would you help us?”
Tonya’s tone held a genuine note of reckoning. “Because when my man comes, you’ll be bones in the stones. It doesn’t have to be that way.”
Tonya had been ordered to get captured during the battle that Kendle was supposed to start. And the island woman had, taking on a team of five soldiers in hand-to-hand combat with only her knife. She’d killed three of them while Tonya and Grace had dispatched the other two with rifle shots. That noise had brought the main squad of soldiers, exactly as Angela had predicted.
“Do you guys have anything to eat? The baby’s hungry again.”
The men almost whimpered this time.
“She’s carrying the Ghost’s kid!”
“Oh, shit!”
Crackers and water were tossed her way.
Tonya munched contentedly. She was almost enjoying herself now.
The driver suspected the problems they were delivering into Donner’s last standing camp, but the lure of escaping with his life was enough to convince him to agree.
“Okay. We’ll dart you, drop you in the cell and go.” Corporal James hesitated, and then forced himself to continue. Once he made a deal, he stuck to it. “Do you need anything?”
The others were staring at the driver as if he was crazy, but Tonya was thankful. She hadn’t quite believed Angela’s note that it would go this way.
“Yes, actually, there is. What’s your name? I’ll need it to make sure my boss spares you.”
Tonya got their names and ranks, secured a weapon she didn’t think she would need, and ended up with four new pals–all from the terror instilled by the mere mention of the Ghost. Angela would be proud.
4
Not long after Tonya made her deal, Kendle stumbled across the small team of Eagles who had been told to wait there, but not why. Kendle was grateful to Angela even while hating her.
“Hey!”
The men turned her way as Kendle ran to Marc’s side, spewing her anger before she was even close to him.
“That bitch set us up! Who the hell does she think she is?!”
Cynthia, tired and ready for it to end, stuck her foot out and tripped the island woman.
Kendle went down in surprise, smacking into the ground hard enough to stun her. As she struggled to breathe normally, Cynthia leaned down into Kendle’s face.
“Shut. Up.”
Kendle thought about fighting, but the reporter’s rage was just as great as her own. It was easy to recognize a bloodlust that hadn’t gotten its fill.
“Okay,” Kendle croaked. “But tell Kenny they have Tonya. She gave herself up to save me.”
Marc knelt down to hear the details that were now being spoken instead of screamed.
Cynthia let Daryl lead her to a sentry position.
“What did she say? Exact words,” Marc prompted, aware of how Kendle was looking at him.
Kendle replayed it in her mind, trying not to miss anything while breathing in Marc’s comforting presence. It was hard telling where they would send her after this.
“What are your orders?”
Kendle frowned. “To rescue Tonya. But I can’t do that alone.”
Marc turned to wave Kenn down from guard duty, bracing for a bad reaction from the Marine. Kenn hadn’t wanted Tonya to be involved at all and he would be angry, with every right to be as far as Marc was concerned.
“She wanted me to tell him,” Kendle stated as Cynthia kept glaring at her, anxious to be out of the reporter’s line of sight. If that challenge didn’t ease, Kendle would be forced to do something about it and she’d promised Angela to complete her mission before losing control.
Kenn stomped down the hill, dread in his heart and rage in his mind. He knew from the looks on their faces that something was wrong. The only reason Marc would ever be staring at him with sympathy was if Tonya were involved.
“Where is she?”
Kendle went to Kenn and told him what had happened, including Angela’s orders and Tonya’s words. Kenn didn’t speak until she was finished and Kendle wondered if the rage sickness had already made it to the US before she landed, like Carol and Marsha had insisted. These Safe Haven people were always pissed off.
Kenn looked at Marc, then west, toward the camp they’d reconned and skirted around on the way here. He glanced down at the gun in his hand, not sure how it had gotten there.
“Kenn, we’ll get our weapons, make a plan–”
Kenn slid his gun into the holster and went west. He didn’t speak, didn’t act angry, but Marc felt the blind rage and sighed heavily. “Whoever has my next orders had
better give them to me now.”
Kenn, only a bit away, took a paper from his pocket and held it up.
Marc shook his head at Angela’s cruelty. He ran to catch up and snatch the waving paper from Kenn’s grip.
You and Kenn only. The others have jobs to do.
“That bitch!” Marc swore.
“I know, right?” Kendle muttered, coming to his side.
“I have to go now,” Cynthia called from behind them. “Who has orders for my escorts?”
Marc stopped and tossed an envelope to Cynthia, and then hurried to catch up with Kenn again, forgetting about Kendle.
Hurt, the island woman turned into the trees and disappeared, not waiting for any more orders. She would do what she wanted to from here on out.
Daryl and Kevin read their orders as Cynthia stared after Kendle.
“I’m being sent with her,” Kevin stated slowly, realizing Angela had known what would happen between him and Cynthia. She was splitting them up.
“I’m your escort to Angela,” Daryl stated evenly, trying not to make Kevin feel worse.
“Be careful,” Cynthia said and Kevin returned the sentiment with a feeling of almost relief. Maybe it was better this way. He hadn’t been sure he was strong enough for a woman like her. After seeing her in action, he knew he wasn’t.
Kevin caught up to Kendle without saying anything and the island woman grunted, “What?”
“I’m supposed to stay with you. Where are you going?”
“Back to camp,” Kendle answered, but dug her next envelope out moodily. “No matter what this says.”
Kevin read it aloud with a frown. “Until you tell the truth about what happened, Safe Haven has no place for you. Our deal is off.”
Kendle screamed in outrage at the betrayal.
Kevin kept his distance as the island woman spun around and began punching the nearest tree.
Kevin saw fresh blood roll down her arm and noticed her wounds. While she beat on the tree, he got out his medical kit and set things up. She would calm down at some point and he would try to convince her to tell him whatever it was Angela wanted him to know. Kevin was sure she’d sent him for a specific reason, but after losing Cynthia, he wasn’t sure he wanted to do this. His thirst for adventure was waning.
