by Angela White
They had set out for a base in Montana, Adrian’s words of the secret bunker there easy to believe. He was the shepherd now. That was why he’d been allowed to live. It was his duty to rebuild the world.
1/11/2013
Other than myself, there are only thirty people here so far.
Most of them are elderly men, and I doubt half will survive. Their injuries are so bad that I can’t help them in any way, other than providing drugs to dull the pain and a comforting hand to hold while they die. Each death kills something inside me.
I wonder if I’ve sacrificed family for these dead strangers, but I can’t walk away. They need me too, and other than a little “listening,” I’ll put it out of my thoughts and go on. I haven’t abandoned him. I’m very late.
1/12/2013
We sleep in vans and buses, not enough workers for tents yet, but I have an idea for two common room setups. When the new man, Doug, recovers, that’ll be his first chore.
Doug’s important to me. I just don’t know how yet. I found him by accident, or maybe by fate leading me?
He was trapped under a collapsed concrete bridge in a national forest near the Nevada state line. Small packs of coyotes were keeping him from escaping the crushed car and shallow water, and it’s amazing he survived so long despite his huge size. Retired Army, he’s one of my kind, but a little too old for what I need the most.
Doug said a tremor took out the bridge while he was crossing it, and that made me decide to keep track of those things too. If the temperatures continue to drop–and this is wintertime, so they should–then we won’t make it to Montana before we have to hole up somewhere. That thought keeps me awake at night, even when the guilt isn’t burning into me. Where?
1/13/2013
Damn, I’m tired. These people are depending on me for everything, and I’m encouraging it–showing them I can handle the weight–but between standing guard at night on third shift, running rescue and supply runs during the day, and helping with camp setups and breakdowns, I’m beat. I have to get the help, the magic that my dreams hinted of last night. Will fate send me what I need?
1/15/2013
Things are becoming so much clearer! My help is out there, but where? If we’re all descended from the same bloodline, doesn’t that mean they can hear my calls for help?
We’ve spent the last two days in a mall, snowed in. The black flakes fell for almost twenty-four hours and left over five feet of nasty slush. I kept everyone inside until it was mostly melted. It felt wrong, as if we might be sickened by contact, and I do wonder if Mother Nature might be helping humankind’s extinction along. It’s a crazy thought, but in this new hell, anything is possible.
1/20/2013
We heard foreign voices on a military channel yesterday, and I moved the camp–ordered it. No one argued, and that makes it official for me. I’m the boss. I know they were scared–the voices were calling for everyone to surrender to the Mexican draft–but for me, it’s real now.
I’m in charge of forty-eight terrified, hurting refugees, and I’ve started wearing a radio so that I can listen for trouble from that side too. Gangs are attacking towns in New Mexico and Colorado. The stories are awful, and many of my people are now survivors of two wars. The threat of the guerillas is a serious one that will require a harsh plan and a lot of defensive work that these people will have to learn and help with.
They’ve had an easy ride so far, but soon that will have to change. The first mandatory meeting is coming up. Guess I’ll find out then if I’ve done enough for them to get their support and cooperation.
1/25/2013
They’ve agreed to all the things I wanted. We even have a name now: Safe Haven.
We set up the two big tents along with a center bonfire in a big metal pool, and we celebrated by barbecuing the chickens Doug found on a nearby farm. Tomorrow, I’ll show them the mess truck a few of us quietly put together. It has it all, including a hot water heater, and since we have a cafeteria cook now, Hilda, we’ll have regular meals soon.
We also have more heaters and supplies on the way. Kyle and Neil found an undamaged sports store. I’m damn glad to have those two men. They’ve both volunteered for the private and the public police force I’m starting, and I’ve decided to split them up so I can have them each lead their own team. Kyle started first and I’m encouraged, feel okay about sometimes leaving the camp in his hands on third shift.
These men will be trained not as everyday guards or even Marines, but as soldiers in my army. The Eagles. There will be no names that can separate them once I’ve finished.
1/26/2013
My leadership is official, and I know some of them are waiting for me to become like the politicians of the past, but I won’t use my authority unless I have to. I plan to keep giving them back some of what was stolen, and slowly, things will come together. I envision a better time of it in the future and look forward to the help my dreams keep hinting of. Five or six more like me will take us to better places.
Adrian paused again, this time to listen to the wind, not sure if… He rolled his eyes at the obvious shadow outside his flap. That would be Dale. He could tell by how the shadowy hips wore a tool belt without tools. The rookie was trying to pass his first level test and didn’t know he had already failed. The police force was very new. This group of nine men was only the second to try, and it wasn’t promising, but they were moving fast out of need.
Adrian frowned. It was a necessity that had been driven home by Tonya. She and Joe had been a couple, but the drunken man who was considered his unofficial second in command had fallen further into hell the farther they’d traveled. To his credit, Joe had stubbornly ignored Tonya when she encouraged him to fight for the leadership she and everyone else saw Adrian earning, but it hadn’t mattered.
“Too late by then,” Adrian sighed.
He was in charge, and Tonya hated it, mainly because Adrian wouldn’t give her the time of day, let alone any power. She had turned a hero into a drunkard, slept around on Joe in her quest for power, and tried to manipulate all of them, not understanding that loyalty had to be earned, not stolen.
While Adrian had been busy with keeping them all alive, she had been plotting. Joe wasn’t going to get her what she wanted, and instead of breaking it off with him and moving on, she’d convinced one of her lovers to stage a fight over her while Adrian was out of camp on a supply run. Her motive? Adrian still wasn’t sure. Had she really thought the camp would give Joe’s place to her lover?
Adrian’s mind flashed to the death, and his grip on the notebook tightened.
Adrian knew by the unlit bonfire that something was wrong. How many have I lost?
Adrian followed the loud male voice to the largest tent, detecting blood splatters and other signs of a fight. When he stepped inside the dim canvas, his arrival was noticed instantly.
“There’s The Man!” Caleb, a greasy, blood-streaked biker, growled. He waved his knife toward the corner, where a reddish heap lay in the shadows. “One down, one to go!”
Adrian’s heart clenched with sorrow for arriving too late to save the man who had saved him. Then the anger, the rage, was flooding every space of his being. His people, his once-again terrified and cowering sheep, were all huddled in the rear of the tent, watching fearfully. Not about to challenge the lone killer, but clearly expecting him to.
Fury as he’d never known filled Adrian. How dare someone try to steal his flock! He drew his 9mm before any of them knew it was coming.
Bang!
The biker fell to the floor.
“You have been found guilty, and I sentence you to death!” Adrian roared over Caleb’s moans.
He grabbed the murderer by his jacket and brutally dragged him out of the tent, leaving a wide, bloody smear in the dirt and grass.
He roughly handcuffed the screaming man to the door of Joe’s lime-green convertible and stormed to a nearby supply truck, tossing the keys into the dirt out of the killer’s reach.
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“You can set him free when he’s dead,” Adrian snapped as he stepped into the truck.
His mind raced furiously, knowing Tonya had done this–Caleb was one of her lovers: he’d witnessed them himself. She would pay!
Minutes later, Adrian stepped out of the tent with Joe’s stiffening body over one broad shoulder, a shovel and a bottle of Jack Daniels in his other hand. His people had stayed with him as he dug the grave and got drunk, waiting with faces that begged him to say he forgave them for not stopping it.
Point man when it happened, Neil had been the most ashamed. No one had wanted to get involved, and Adrian’s voice was hard as he finished sinking the cross into the thick, ugly dirt.
“I’m getting tired, and there are survivors out there who still care enough to try again. If you guys can’t get it together enough to at least do what’s right, then I’ll find another group to help and you’ll be on your own again.”
Adrian shut the notebook, thinking the panic on their faces had been enough to tell him he had their support, their loyalty. Except for Tonya. Never one to follow blindly, her twisted logic had become clear when she’d arrived at Joe’s tent, where Adrian was getting drunk. She had begged him not to be banished, and he let her stay because of one simple sentence.
“If I had known Caleb was nuts, I woulda told someone!”
That had stopped him. He too had missed it, had let in a remorseless killer.
Because of Tonya’s lust for power, two men were dead and he couldn’t even punish her publicly due to his own strict rules concerning the treatment of women. Therefore, Adrian had devised his own line of justice, and tonight would be the climax. After weeks of subtle flirting and making promises with his eyes, he was going to let her seduce him.
The savior and the whore.
The rest of the camp, having no idea of the game being played, had already begun to regard her as slightly crazy when she spoke of their relationship. Her frustration when he wouldn’t confirm her claims was pleasing.
Tonya had been hiding ambitions of running this camp and having real authority. The power she had longed for with Joe was nothing compared to a position as Adrian’s mate. In this war-torn land, she would be a queen, not a dumb chippy who’d been selling her body to get where she wanted to be. Adrian knew the way her mind worked. She was sure that all she had to do was get him in bed. Every man who had ever slept with her had probably become her puppet, from teachers to bosses. He was to be her crowning–
Scratch…scratch…
Adrian grinned, setting the notebook aside. Revenge was best served cold and he’d waited for that reason. He could have had her the same day as Joe’s murder if he wanted. She was that callous.
“Come in.”
Tonya ducked inside carefully, reading him, his mood. When he smiled and leaned over to blow out the candle, she started pushing off her boots.
Barely lit by the shadows of the center fire, she didn’t witness his smile merge into a greedy leer of lust and hatred. He was just as callous. She was about to learn that.
Tonya was in ecstasy already. Half an hour from now, she would be Adrian’s legal mate! She went to him eagerly in the darkness, determined to make sure he enjoyed himself. When he met her, hands jerking her close, she melted against him.
“Ooh…I’ve wanted ya so badly,” Tonya moaned, pressing closer to his hard male body in the dark tent as the cold Utah wind beat against the camouflage vinyl.
Her light Southern accent was fake but sexy, and Adrian’s body throbbed with need.
Tonya groaned in delight as his mouth slanted over hers, his hands roughly roaming her soft body, discovering that she wore no panties to slow him down. He grabbed a handful of thick red curls and ground his hardness against her belly, thinking her pale skin and green eyes, combined with that Irish hair, easily made her the sexiest woman here.
Adrian pushed the camp whore down by her shoulder, pulling at her dress, and as she slid to her knees, her fingers went obediently to the buckle of his jeans. Her hands were like silk, and when her hot mouth closed over him, he arched forward, the sucking sensation incredible.
Her head began an aggressive up and down movement that sent heat rolling into his toes, and then he pushed her back, followed her down onto the cold, canvas floor.
Shoving forward before she was settled, he kissed her deeply; loving it that her gasps were not faked like some women that he’d been with. He moved inside her, shallowly at first, quick and light, and she climaxed fast, nails raking lightly down his shoulder, body tightening, pulsing, and exploding. Adrian thrust harder, dog tag clinking against the chain.
Tonya let her hands roam his hard, tanned skin and soft blond spikes. “We’ll be good together. I’ll be a good mate to ya,” she promised, moaning as he started long, hard strokes that slid her up on the floor and drew a surprising rush of wetness. Very few men could pull two from her.
Adrian tangled his rough hands in her thick, red curls and pushed in as deep as he could get, on fire as he observed the triumph and need melt together in her glowing green orbs.
“Finally mine!” she growled, giving him a chill, and she pulled him down to kiss his full, sexy mouth.
Coming up for air, Adrian smiled cruelly, leaning his weight into each rubbing-thrust. “Oh no, Baby. This is a one-time deal. Enjoy it.”
His breathing was harsh and he swelled, almost snapping when she understood, but her body refused to listen, slender hips keeping perfect rhythm as he rutted between her long legs.
“Bastard!”
On the edge, Tonya pulled him down for another hot kiss that shoved her into a world of rivers and light, but she began to struggle almost immediately, and he let her. The pain in her expression was a bigger turn-on than her mouth. Adrian ground their lips together, kissing her, touching her, mocking her as he thrust roughly.
Used to being the one who was cold and in control, Tonya was horrified to feel her traitorous body responding again, wanting his touch, no matter the intent. She twisted, almost rolling them over.
Adrian dropped his full weight on her, making her cry out.
“Be still!” he growled harshly, hips now pounding into hers. “You’ve begged for it enough!”
Her fists slammed into his shoulders, and he lowered his head to avoid telling marks on his face, enjoying the fight she couldn’t win. When her nails raked down his spine, drawing blood this time, he shoved forward, grunting.
A final “Uhh!” and he was on his knees in a quick movement, squirting on her thigh as she scrambled to get away.
Adrian was up a second after her, very aware that this was the moment she might be her most dangerous. He bent over to pull up his jeans, unable to keep from grinning in satisfaction.
A thick medical book sailed over him, slapped the side of the tent and slid down the canvas wall in front of him.
He laughed, fishing in his pockets for a smoke.
Tonya had jerked her dress over wild curls and was pulling on a calf-high black boot, tears of rage blurring her vision. “You’ll pay for this! I’ll tell!”
Her fake accent was gone, and she snarled when his confident smile remained in place, full of remorseless pleasure.
“You’re a whore. They already know that.”
“Even you can’t get away with rape!” she sputtered, clumsily pulling on her other boot.
Adrian shrugged, studying her carefully. “Don’t know of any rape conviction where the woman got two orgasms before she started complaining.”
“If they knew what kind of man you honestly are, they wouldn’t follow you anywhere!”
Tonya stomped from the tent with sticky thighs and Adrian’s mocking voice followed her out into the cold, windy air.
“But they don’t know, Red, and from you, they’d never believe.”
Adrian returned to his notebook with a smirking expression that few in camp would have recognized. There might be a skirmish or two left, but the war between him and Tonya was over. She was
an outcast, the camp treating her the same way he did, and tomorrow, when she claimed they were sleeping together, he would deny such a nasty lie. It would drive her crazy that this time she was telling the truth and no one would believe her.
Adrian’s smile faded. His leadership hadn’t been questioned once after Joe’s death, but later, when Neil had told him his quick, brutal execution of the killer had gotten him the camp’s final approval, Adrian had been required to stop himself from telling the Arizona State Trooper how morally wrong it was to earn respect by taking a life. It was a hard, new world, and they were all adjusting as best they could.
Sure would be easier with a few more of the good men from my dreams, Adrian thought, pulling on his boots. Just a few. He had a couple of go-to guys who showed promise, but frankly, he needed a lot more than those here could give.
Just after midnight now, it had been seven weeks since the war, and they were spending four days in the heavily wooded Fish Lake National Forest. Camped below Milford, Utah, Safe Haven was waiting for a small group of men to get back from a supply run to a nearby food warehouse. The storms had slowed them down.
As always, Adrian’s relentless mind was on where to call home for the winter. They’d already checked a long list of places. When they broke camp in the morning, they would continue north, toward the base in Montana, but he already knew what they’d find there: nothing. His followers were searching for the authority; Adrian was directing them to the bunker under the compound, but if he kept picking up survivors regularly, there was no way that small shelter would hold them all. They would figure that out before he got them there. It was another layer of heavy stress.
The choice of their destination had been left entirely up to him, the camp indicating at the meeting that they had faith in his decisions. Though that had been the plan all along, it was still a large burden.
“It’s like sheep,” he muttered. He knew they were scared and lost, but Adrian was unable to imagine a situation where he would give over control of his own life so easily. They had no problem with being told where to sit and stand, and while it made things a lot easier, it showed him how weak they were and how much had to be done. He would push harder and do more for them.
