LAW Box Set: Books 4-6 (Life After War Book 0)

by Angela White

  Kyle reluctantly erected his tent near the broken windows. It smelled too rotten to explore the inner rooms. “We’ll go further up in the morning and get something nice.”

  Jennifer was getting used to having her life endangered. “Whatever you say.”

  She was still busy making sure the baby wasn’t hurt and Kyle let her go, even when Autumn began to protest. Being a mother wasn’t easy.

  As night fell, they ate around a small fire that Kyle had built in the lodge fireplace, all of them glad for the feature. The warmth it provided drove the cold back and helped dry out the room–which helped with the smell. By midnight, the odor was mostly gone and all of them settled down for sleep. Tomorrow, they would set up a perimeter and call into base to explain what had happened, but tonight, they needed to rest.

  It had been a long couple of days, and all four of them were sound asleep a short time later, missing their newest problem as it arrived.

  Whitney and the baby slept soundly in his sleeping bag on the lobby couch. Neither of them woke when the footsteps came, or hands slowly drugged the canteens. It was a shame that Melinda hadn’t survived the accident, but Kranten preferred to work alone anyway. His dream charm was almost as strong as Jack’s, and taking them this way would be much safer than trying to fight the gifted teenager now sleeping on her man’s chest. When any of them woke, they would eat or drink something, and then be defenseless against whatever he chose to do.

  The Italian man had shot him, but Kranten always dressed in vests for moments like this and he marched to the sleeping baby with barely a limp.

  8

  “Should we go check that out?”

  Samantha didn’t want to, but they’d witnessed the flash and heard the gunshots, and that meant it was close to Safe Haven.

  “Call base and find out if any of ours are making noise in that grid,” Samantha instructed.

  Cynthia handled the call and they all waited uneasily for Angela’s answer.

  Conner and David were on the opposite side of the fire from Samantha and her girls, and he’d been careful to not even be caught glancing at them. David, on the other hand, made eye contact with Cynthia as much as he could. He liked a little shot of mocha in his women.

  “Boss said that vicinity crawls with trouble for us, to be quick and careful,” the radio crackled with Kenn’s grouchy voice.

  Samantha immediately got up and began preparing for war.

  The others followed more slowly until the radio crackled again.

  “She also says three of ours are in the line of fire.”

  That got everyone moving and they rolled up the winding road in two trucks a few minutes later.

  9

  Jennifer struggled to waken, sensing there was a problem. The fog was thick over her mind and she shoved at it weakly. “Kyle!”

  She hoped she was yelling, but couldn’t be certain as she managed to push a layer of the blurriness from her mind.

  “That’s it. Drink up.”

  The voice was chilling and Jennifer jerked herself upright and tried to focus on the tent wall. Who was that?

  “Good, huh? It’s a special brew I made for weak humans. A quick death can be handy.”

  Jennifer spotted Kyle on the mattress; eyes open but not alert and realized they’d been drugged. She tried to call out to Angela, but the fog in her mind prevented her from uncovering the door.

  “Ah, she’s awake. I knew she’d be strong.”

  The sound of a light struggle came and then a man appeared in the tent flap, holding a glassy-eyed baby.

  “Hello, Jennifer.”

  Jennifer screamed her rage at the sight of her child in a stranger’s grip, but the drugs overwhelmed her and she dropped to her knees, gasping for breath. This wasn’t like the drugs Donner had used. This was fire in her veins–poison. “Give me…my baby!”

  “She’s perfect leverage,” Kranten smirked. “Your leader will give me anything I want in exchange.”

  “What do you want?” Jennifer forced out, fighting with all her will to remain awake.

  “Lives,” Kranten answered. “Hers, yours, and many more.”

  “You won’t get them!” Samantha informed him, swinging as hard as she could.

  Kranten had no time to duck the gun butt and he slumped forward over Kyle’s body, dropping the baby onto Kyle’s lap.

  Samantha hurried forward and hit the stranger again, then once more. Blood ran from his nose and Samantha stepped aside to allow Conner inside the tent to heal the damage from the poison before it could kill Kyle or Jennifer.

  “Stop!” Tracy shouted from outside the tent, unable to get Whitney to stop drinking from the poisoned canteen.

  Samantha instinctively knew what would free him from the spell and fired a bullet into Kranten’s brain.

  Whitney let go of the canteen, blinking, and then he dropped to the ground, puking and bleeding from the mouth.

  Conner rushed to him, forcing his magic in between bouts of vomit, and the team watched in horror.

  Jennifer and Kyle slowly recovered, but the baby being still and silent caused them great concern until they realized Conner had healed her first and then told her to go to sleep. They listened to Whitney’s battle for survival, but didn’t leave the baby.

  Conner was able to get rid of the poisons enough for Whitney to become aware of what was going on. He stumbled to the door to force himself to keep vomiting and Conner went along to keep him safe and to heal him further.

  Samantha waited until it seemed like Whitney would live, then gestured toward their vehicles. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Whitney let himself be loaded into their truck a few minutes later, feeling a little better, but in no condition to be alone. He would be taken to the medical bay, where he would be monitored for side effects.

  Jennifer and Kyle also let themselves be herded into the truck. It obviously wasn’t a good time for them to be away.

  As they entered Safe Haven and began providing updates, Marc realized Conner was now empty. There was no way he could help Angie.

  10

  Vlad felt Kranten’s death, as he had Melinda’s, and he ground his hand into the fire to keep from screaming his rage. They had underestimated these Safe Haven people and too many lives had been paid for that mistake.

  As he glowered toward the scene of the crime, snow began to fall on Vlad. He didn’t pay attention at first, too full of vengeful desire to be alert. When he finally noticed, there was already a thin layer of white covering his camp and making the fire sizzle.

  Jay and the bald man stayed out of the way as Vlad approached the noisy fire, expecting him to cover it or kick it out the rest of the way. They didn’t expect Vlad to laugh.

  Vlad continued to express his amusement as the wind blew harder, bringing more snow. He’d forgotten the first rule of hunting. Use whatever was most abundant.

  “Are things okay?” the bald man asked. He was about ready to flee to their town, or maybe even further. He didn’t think these Safe Haven people could be beaten.

  “Fine, fine,” Vlad answered distractedly. “With the snow, will come new opportunities, my friends. We’ll reach out and grab them.”

  Confused, the bald man put his head back down and tried to sleep through the cold. Maybe everyone had gone insane since the war. That would explain things.

  “Get up!” Vlad ordered, kicking at the man. “You have to go to town–now.”

  The man didn’t protest, leaving quickly instead. He would locate a place to hole up for the night where it was warm, and he would be away from Vlad.

  He was quickly gone and the lone man by the fire cackled again. He wasn’t beaten yet, not by any means.

  11

  Angela slipped from Safe Haven’s safety via a weak set of fence links that she planned to have Marc reinforce. Until then, it made for a convenient escape route.

  Angela slid down the embankment and then took a winding path through the trees that led her up the
hillside. Conner and Kendle couldn’t help her, and she wouldn’t allow Adrian to even try. That left one solution and she’d made the choice to take it. She was already damned. There was no reason to resist now, not if it would save the baby.

  She stopped in the shadows of Zone C, listening to the shouts, the hatred. This is so wrong. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  The witch remained silent, also surprised. The demon wasn’t positive that Angela would follow through, but if she did, everything would change again and forever this time.

  Angela let her feet take her to the rear corner of the gated site, zeroing in on ugliness. She didn’t need to hear the conversation to know it was bad, but she listened anyway, hoping it would ease her guilt.

  “They’ll open the gates in the morning and we’ll grab whoever it is.”

  “They said supplies were coming in this load, so they’ll have too many guards.”

  Angela came close enough to peer at the man and woman who were hunkered over a tiny fire to plan their attack.

  “We have guns and ammo now, thanks to the daily runs. They won’t be expecting that.”

  Angela tried to feel angry that they were plotting to kill her Eagles, but the wrongness of what she was about to do refused to fade.

  “We still can’t get through their gates,” the man insisted, rubbing his scared arm. “How do we short-circuit their power?”

  “If we can get the right hostage, we’ll be let in,” the woman answered.

  Angela swallowed a snort. Why does everyone think I’ll negotiate? Have I been too soft?

  “How about we act like we have an outbreak and lure the doctor in? You heard those sentries talking about the Cholera down in town.”

  “Yeah, that might work. Who do we have that is sick enough?”

  “Harvey’s boy, Joel. He had the influenza last month and still doesn’t sound healthy.”

  “He isn’t,” the man agreed. “We’re still studying him for signs he’s carrying something.”

  “So we can spare him,” the woman pointed out. “While they’re killing him, we’ll be grabbing their doctor.”

  Angela had heard enough to ease her conscious, but she knew the guilt wasn’t going to leave her after this. If they’d had Rick trapped this way, he would have still received a fair trial.

  “Why don’t you bargain with me?” Angela offered, coming from the shadows. “If you have their boss, the guards will open the gates.”

  The conspirators flinched and then they recognized her. Not spotting any patrols, both of them came towards her at a fast run.

  Angela waited for them to scale the fence, thinking she would have to add that to the security list.

  The woman was the first one over and she dropped in front of Angela with a raised fist.

  Angela sent a current of heat into the woman’s stomach that took her to the ground. She then faced the much larger, healthier male and began pulling.

  Marc forced himself to remain in the shadows. He hadn’t been there for the other kills and he viewed the quick attack in uneasy disappointment. She drained both lives in seconds, not reacting to the woman’s pleas for mercy, and Marc could actually see it helping her. Skin glowing, fullness returning, even her hair was becoming the glossy black that he loved, and Marc rotated toward the hole in the fence she’d come through. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, only that he didn’t want her to know he had witnessed it.

  “Too late for that.”

  Marc found her right behind him and waited for the revulsion or disgust that he expected to feel. When nothing came, he met her eye in confusion. “Why?”

  “I hate him as much as you do. I’d never let him taint our child.”

  Marc was a bit stunned and asked,” This won’t?”

  “No,” Angela sighed unhappily. “She’s innocent. I’m the one who’s damned.”

  Marc followed her, motioning to a guard who saw them come in, to have the hole in the fence fixed come dawn. He didn’t know how to handle this ruthless stranger–that was clear to him.

  Angela waited for him to be close enough and then slowly reached out to take his hand. His flesh wasn’t yielding at first, but he caved quickly and let her place his hand over her stomach. There was now a small bump and Marc was immediately fascinated by the feel of it.

  “Would you deny her life, to allow evil a place inside our gates?”

  “Never!” Marc swore, letting himself be convinced. “Never.”

  “They’re going to die,” Angela stated, glancing at the zone where the noise had yet to settle down. “This way, they’ve served a purpose.”

  Marc found that hard to argue with, especially after overhearing their plotting. He didn’t disagree with Angie’s choice, only her methods.

  “I have the same reservations,” Angela stated. “But I want this baby, Marc. There isn’t much I won’t do to keep her alive.”

  The only life Marc valued more was hers or Charlie’s and he tugged her into his arms for a long hug. “Whatever you need, baby-cakes.”

  Angela wiped her tears on his shirt, hoping he didn’t notice. He was so much better than she was. She didn’t deserve someone so good. She deserved to be with a terrible person…like Adrian.

  Adrian studied the couple. Kendle was still sleeping blissfully in his tent, but Adrian had known Angela was close. It had drawn him from Kendle’s warmth in time to watch her take two life forces to heal herself. It was something he’d never thought to witness her do, and while it hurt him–he’d corrupted her–it also gave encouragement.

  “She’s giving in to the dark side,” he joked to himself. “There’s hope.”

  Adrian reluctantly returned to his tent, telling himself to be patient. She would try very hard to abide by the natural laws for a while now, to prove to herself that she hadn’t slipped that far. It would be a while yet before an opportunity to bond with her through these mistakes presented itself.

  “I can wait,” Adrian crooned. “I’ll wait ‘til hell freezes over to have you and I won’t care if you’ve gone bad. Marc won’t take you that way, but I certainly will.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Perception

  1

  “Go on and print it out,” Angela stated, folding the paper. She would go over it in detail later, especially the interview Cynthia had done. Everyone would want to read that a few times.

  “You want me to change anything?” Cynthia asked, a bit nervously. Some of the wording wasn’t very supportive of the current leadership.

  “Nope,” Angela answered. “Our people deserve the truth. You’ll give them that.”

  “I’ll have it ready to hand out in the morning.”

  “Good.”

  Surprised, Cynthia left Angela to her stack of papers. She hadn’t expected the first draft of her paper to be approved. In fact, she hadn’t been certain any of her drafts would make it. She’d expected censorship and lies, not freedom to tell the truth.

  “I’ve read that draft,” Greg stated, also sorting through stacks of papers. “It might cause some problems.”

  Angela didn’t tell him that sometimes problems were useful. Cynthia would help her push these people back into American values and strength. It had built the country once and they needed it now, more than ever.

  Angela opened her notebook. “I think I’m ready.”

  Greg lifted the first sheet and they got on with the morning updates. “We had another group of refugees come in around dawn. Marc put them in Zone A.”

  “The doctor’s home,” Angela stated, able to feel the displeasure coming from the medical bay. “Get him on the testing.”

  Greg wrote it down and continued, “The ants are making a home in the secondary cave we chose–the one that connects to ours. Is that okay?”

  “Yes,” Angela answered. “But keep them out of ours. Some of our sheep haven’t accepted them yet and sharing the cave with them during the snow drew a lot of complaints.”

  “I’ll have Jennifer pas
s the message for them to stay out of sight for a while,” Greg offered.

  “Good. She’ll do it without hurting feelings. Have an extra bin of scraps delivered to them each day. That’ll help them not feel shunned.”

  Greg wasn’t sure about ants having emotions, but he didn’t bring it up. He was one of the people who didn’t care for the sight of the mutations, but he did recognize their usefulness.

  “Have her ask them about helping take some of our heavier equipment down to the bottom levels,” Angela said suddenly, running with the new idea. “They can still carry a hundred times their own weight, so that could be very useful.”

  “I agree,” Greg replied, stifling a protest about having to labor with the ants. If they could carry the heavy machinery down, that would be more than useful. It would be amazing.

  “We’ve gone through the first week’s loads that came in. Shane found two wood gas generators at the lumberyard and Theo’s already using them. He said he’ll need a safe place to store the fuel we get from them.”

  “That rocks!” Angela exclaimed. “Have it put in a truck by itself and I’ll send it out to locations that need it.”

  Greg didn’t ask for details on that, knowing the answer wouldn’t be one he cared for. If Angela felt the need to stock locations for an emergency, it probably meant that trouble was already verified and coming.

  “Not always,” Angela tried to soothe. “Sometimes I’m just being careful.”

  Greg still didn’t ask any questions. “We’re not uncovering much food. The stores have been cleaned out.”

  “I expected that,” Angela told him. “We’ll do more rationing, quietly. Here’s a list of things for the cook and the garden crews.”

  Greg read over it and approved of them. Subtly changing their diet to more bread-based items would slow their supply usage, though it wasn’t healthy. To combat that, Angela was having more vitamins passed out, and releasing their reserve of fish to be consumed now. It would add a couple weeks to their estimates. “No problems on these. Most people won’t notice.”