LAW Box Set: Books 1-3 (Life After War Book 0)

by Angela White

  “Yeah! Hang on!” Rick didn’t bother buttoning his shirt. He shoved the gun into his waistband and fished for his smokes. “Come in.”

  Kenn moved quickly, letting in a blast of chilly wind that only cleared a little of the nervous sweat-reek that hit him. The Marine immediately scanned the messy floor and even messier man, and then flashed a sympathetic smile that he didn’t care if Rick saw through. The man had only been here one day, and he’d already filled a tent with trash. It said a lot.

  “I know it’s early, but I’ll be busy later,” Kenn explained.

  Rick lit a smoke and dropped into the only chair. He raised a brow as he adjusted the dirty black bandana around his throat. “Thought someone would be by sooner with all the security you guys got here.”

  Rick forced himself to act normal. He was glad the leader wasn’t coming, but if Kenn suspected something, Adrian would be by shortly.

  “Big camp, lots of shit to handle.”

  Rick blew a disrespectful stream of smoke in Kenn’s direction. If this dog-tag-wearing putz was all he had to deal with, he’d gotten lucky.

  “Is this the part where I get warned to follow the rules or hit the road?” Rick questioned in a bored tone that he didn’t even remotely feel.

  Kenn didn’t like Rick at all in that instant. “Something like that. We always check out the new people, but you came from a known group of killers, so yes, there are questions and things to be said.”

  Rick picked up a half-full can of pop from the dirty floor. “Samantha told you everything we know.”

  Kenn lips thinned in disapproval at the tone.

  Rick cautioned himself to ease off a bit. There was a reason this man was second-in-command here, and it wasn’t because he liked to hit women. Though, in Cesar’s camp that might have earned him a high place too.

  “We need other things, like where you hail from, what your career was, and also why not one white male has been spared by that group. Except you.”

  Rick tensed even though he was expecting it and he didn’t meet Kenn’s eye for more than a second or two as he said, “I was a janitor at a minimum security jail in southern Arizona.”

  Rick knew how to make Cesar appear less of a threat. He’d done this before.

  “When the power went off, the generators didn’t come on, and there was a riot. The guards were outnumbered. It was during exercise time, and most of the men were out of their cells.”

  Kenn believed that. It had been the same across the country. Almost none of America’s prisons had held. “Where were you?”

  “Hiding in the basement at first, then I realized I could get out if I could start the generators.”

  Kenn’s words were sharp. “Yeah, you could go, after setting all the killers loose.”

  Rick didn’t flinch at the accusing tone. He’d heard that one too many times before. “Their crimes were minor. I wasn’t going to die for them. I had to get out, and I did.”

  “You were caught?”

  Rick said, “They let me live because I set them free. They owed me that.”

  Kenn tried to pierce him with the hard stare that Adrian used, and Rick casually emptied his soda can.

  “I was the leader’s slave from there. If I had insisted on leaving, he would have killed me.”

  Kenn was able to see the truth of that. “So, how did you two get away?”

  Rick dropped his butt into the soda can and set it on the filthy canvas floor, controlling the nervous tremor. Instinct said they already knew. Why not use it?

  “His men think we escaped, but Cesar knows where we are. I gave him this camp for our freedom.”

  Kenn’s gun came halfway out of the holster as he stepped forward, anger blazing.

  Rick fell over his cot in his haste to get away. He landed with a loud thump, hitting his shoulder hard.

  He held up a hand as the angry Marine came toward him again. “That’s what I told him to get away!”

  Kenn hesitated, and Rick let fear bleed through his voice, knowing it was expected. “Come on man! I’m an American too! I said what I had to so we could go.”

  Kenn took a minute to pick the right response, but he didn’t relax or put away his gun. When he spoke, Adrian’s words flew out of his mouth.

  “A real American would have died before releasing them. Every life they’ve taken is on your hands!”

  Rick flinched. That he hadn’t heard before, and it echoed in his head, even though he already knew he was damned.

  “Will they follow you? What was the plan?”

  “Already on the way, I would think. He told me how to get here and to report to him in two weeks. When I don’t, he’ll know I told you everything. That I betrayed him.”

  “Don’t leave this tent for anything except the bathroom,” Kenn ordered. “You already know to use the ones in here. If you need something, tell one of the guards, not the doctor or the people who bring your food. They won’t talk to you. Leave the Quarantine Zone for any reason, and I’ll shoot you myself!”

  Kenn ducked outside before Rick could respond and marched straight through the sleeping people to Adrian. This guy was no good–from his pack of lies to his insolent, smug eyes–and Kenn would make it clear to not only the boss, but to the sentries as well. When Rick left that tent, he would have dozens of eyes on him.

  2

  As the very dim and distant sun began to rise behind the gritty sky, Angela headed to the livestock area, nodding friendly greetings to the surprising number of people also out and about so early. Inside, she was fighting the urge to hide in her tent. Being around so many people made her very uncomfortable, and she stiffened her chin. Intimidated or not, these people wouldn’t detect it. Not when there was so much at stake.

  Angela had woken to a note on Charlie’s pillow saying he had to deliver trays. She understood he was giving her a teenager’s coldness because she had refused to make Marc leave. Charlie was afraid of what Kenny might do, and so was she, but she couldn’t back down now, not when she was already making real progress. One day, they might both be free of him.

  The rift between her and her son so soon after being reunited bothered Angela, but she knew it would take time for him to come around. She wasn’t going to push and she wasn’t going to hide. She and Marc had done very little wrong. Kenn was the problem, and from this moment on, she would build a new life. That meant showing she could do the dirty work and that she didn’t wait to be asked. Her plan was to help the vet today and be close to her boy. Hopefully, they would be too busy to talk (and avoid those harder questions that Charlie hadn’t thought to ask yet), and she would be asleep as soon as she hit the pillow. Anything to avoid all the tossing and turning she’d done last night.

  Angela didn’t glance at the QZ or Marc’s tent as she went by, but she knew he was there, awake, and was comforted by it.

  She entered the dark animal area with a small gasp of surprise. With the curling fog and tall green trees sharing space with sporadic clumps of lush grass, it appeared like their old world.

  But she knew better, didn’t she? The croupy chirping of a lark nearby was the only reminder she needed. War had come, and nothing was the same.

  “I guess I’m all yours today.”

  The vet glanced up from his lantern-lit papers and grunted. New girl got in trouble already. Doesn’t surprise me.

  “I brought you a cup of–”

  “Don’t drink coffee!” Chris snapped.

  Angela slammed the mug onto the metal table with a bang that made him glare up at her.

  “Good. I brought tea.”

  She dropped down onto the damp ground nearby and lit a cigarette without saying anything else. She smoked and sipped her coffee, satisfied she had his attention.

  Angela hid a snicker when he put the paper down, anchoring it with his glasses.

  “You gonna sit there? You’re supposed to work.”

  “You gonna give me something to do?” she retorted. “You’re supposed to teach.”


  Chris blinked, stood up with a scowl. “Come on,” he ordered, stomping into the shadows of the small zoo.

  Angela noticed he took the mug.

  She realized her time with Marc had been everything she needed to handle being around people, no matter how uncomfortable she felt. Whether this cool shield held all day though, was another story.

  They labored mostly in silence, watering and then moving the animals to different pens so those could be cleaned, and she didn’t hesitate to get dirty. She was eager to lose herself in the labor. The wind gusted occasionally, blowing her braid around, and she was glad to be somewhat isolated as she listened to the sounds of the sprawling camp behind them. Pots banged, dogs barked, tents flapped and zipped. They were all sounds she’d missed, needed, and they were a comfort as she did what the sullen vet told her to, but they were also a source of tension. Marc was out there somewhere, and so was Kenn.

  Charlie arrived not long after they started, and the mother greeted his surprise with a wiggle of her tongue that got him to snicker.

  I love you, boy, she sent. We’ll make it work out somehow. I promise.

  Charlie shrugged unhappily. How? He gets angrier every second you let that man stay here.

  Angela sighed. There was nothing she could do about that, and now that Marc was out of quarantine, the tension was only going to get worse.

  3

  Neil was at Marc’s tent at six thirty, ready to wake him up. The new man’s lantern had been on until well after midnight, but there was no sign of Marc or the wolf in the dim, foggy morning.

  Neil scanned for the nearest sentry and motioned to the empty tent.

  The Eagle gestured toward an area outside the caution tape, where Adrian had netted off a bathing and laundry area.

  Neil turned that way, frowning uneasily. The forest was covered in a blanket of knee-high, gray fog, and he moved faster once he was out of sight of the main camp. Who would pass up a hot shower for a frigid (and maybe dangerous) dunk in the open?

  A man with something to prove, Neil thought, increasing his pace again. Marine or not, Marc would need help today. He was about to learn…Neil crested the small hill, clearing the thickets of pines, and stopped.

  Danny, one eye a nasty shade of purple and black, along with two of his lazy friends, were huddled miserably behind a moss-covered spruce tree. Wearing only boxers, all three men were shivering in the morning chill. The trio heard his steps and looked up, but none of them moved.

  Neil gaped when he discovered why.

  The wolf sat alertly a few feet away, studying them while Marc, Seth, and Billy (one of Kyle’s Level Six Eagles), enjoyed a leisurely swim.

  Neil burst out laughing. Those three had meant to rough Marc up, and the wolf had made them into fools.

  Dog’s rigid ears twitched at the cop’s arrival, but his eyes didn’t leave his targets, and Neil thought they were lucky not to have been bitten or worse.

  “Tell him to call it off, O’Neil. We’re late for duty.”

  “Yeah. It’s not funny. He’s getting us in trouble,” Danny whined.

  Neil pushed his cover up a bit to reveal amused scorn. “First, I think I want to hear how you got like that.”

  Neil wondered who’d beat on Danny yesterday. He knew from the coloring that it had been at least eight to ten hours ago, and Marc had still been in the QZ then.

  “All right, Dog. Let ‘em go.”

  At Marc’s order, the wolf advanced on the tree instead.

  The men behind it jumped, tripping over each other and then flushed in embarrassment when the burly animal hiked a leg and let go of a long stream of urine.

  “Dog says piss on you,” Marc translated.

  Neil and the men in the water laughed hard.

  Dog, who had been waiting for his turn to enjoy the water when trouble had started, padded to the bank and jumped in.

  He paddled toward Marc, who splashed him and swam away. They began to chase each other, diving around the two men in the creek with them.

  Neil kept an eye on the sullen males hurriedly dressing and casting furious glares at the animal in the water. Kenn had gained three weak allies. How would Marc do today?

  “So, no one’s going to tell me what happened here?”

  The tone of command was clear, even to Marc, and the three men gave the answer Neil had expected–silence. They obviously regretted it now and wanted only to slink away but couldn’t. His place here was too high to be ignored.

  “Get out of here children, and try to play nice next time.”

  The bored sarcasm made them move faster, and Neil stepped to the muddy bank, where lush green ferns and brambles lined the steep sides of the clear creek.

  “Well, you’ve met the welcoming party. Ready to discover how the other half’s been living?”

  Marc slapped water toward Dog, who obligingly ducked it and slapped his own paws down, drenching his human.

  Marc shook his head, cold water flying as the guards laughed again.

  “They gonna play any nicer?”

  Neil snorted, watching the animal with pleasant surprise. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

  He exchanged a glance with Seth and Billy as Marc climbed out, and turned in time to see the detailed tattoo on the man’s hip as he stripped off his boxers and used his shirt to dry himself with. Kenn had one like it on his arm. Except…damn! Had that said “Angie”?

  Marc slid on his jeans and guns, aware that the savvy cop had discovered a vital clue. He waited for the questions with a cool facade.

  “How long were you recon?” Neil asked as the wolf padded purposefully into waist-high sticker bushes on the opposite bank and disappeared into the thick fog.

  “Eight in recon. Fifteen in the service,” Marc said, pulling on his socks and boots in seconds. When he knelt down to tie, Marc was ready for the bigger questions he saw coming.

  “You’ve been in longer than Kenn. You guys served together, right? Same unit?”

  Marc used the lines he’d drawn last night; honesty as much as possible. “I was team leader. We didn’t see eye-to-eye on most things, but he followed my orders, so it worked out.”

  “You were his boss?” Neil gasped, mental alarms blaring. Kenn hadn’t told Adrian that, and even lying by omission was forbidden when it came to their leader.

  The two men in the water were also staring in shock, and Neil knew Seth and Billy would pass the word.

  “For the last four years.” Marc slung his wet shirt around his neck like a towel.

  Neil stored the information, pretending it didn’t matter when obviously it did. “Kenn was your second?”

  Marc adjusted his gun belts with practiced movements. “He was my right hand most of the time: communications, explosives, organizing. He was the go-to guy. Like him or not, he always got the job done.”

  Neil was a little surprised to hear Marc say something good about his rival. “He still does. All our CBs and radios have been installed or upgraded by him, and he’s trained all of us on this new hands-free system.”

  Knowing that was child’s play compared to the temperamental explosives Kenn had manipulated before the war, Marc volunteered nothing else, asking about their first stop instead.

  Neil thought it was interesting to see Marc in the daylight without the long gunfighter’s coat, but those matching .45s slung low on his hips said not to be fooled by how normal he seemed in jeans and a camouflage shirt.

  “Self-defense class is next. You’ll need it while the wolf’s out running.”

  Marc made no complaint as they strode down the muddy path, giving eye contact and casual nods, but no conversation to the few souls now coming to brave the frigid water.

  Neil led them through the cover of the thick trees and swirling fog, preferring to work behind the direct view of the camp for as long as possible. He was glad to see only six people at the defense ring when they arrived.

  A large circle, it was made from double-stacked bales of straw, set up at a
distance from the main camp in order to distort the noise and hide the intense training that took place with the Eagles. Neil often wondered how many of the Eagles realized Adrian would lose command of Safe Haven if his secrets were exposed.

  As the dim orange sun began to brighten the area, the two men settled on overturned water buckets to watch, and Marc understood this was the teaching staff, gathered to practice before the students came.

  Three men, all stocky and dressed in black, were lined up across from a hulking, redheaded man in a dirty vest. Towering over them by at least six inches, the giant wore dusty jeans and a black Harley Davidson shirt under his red vest. The big man appeared eager, and Marc hoped they didn’t plan to use body shots.

  I’ve driven softer trucks, he thought, already interested in the coming show.

  The trio of men moved together, working as a team, and they all threw solid punches that landed but appeared to have no effect.

  The huge man nailed the center fighter in the neck, and he dropped like a stone, struggling to breathe as the giant’s arm flew out again. He spun, and the other two joined the first on the ground, blood dripping.

  “You’re done. Get out.” The big Irishman wasn’t even winded.

  The two men picked themselves up and exited. The third was already on his feet despite the hit to his throat, and the waiting challengers took their injured colleague’s places.

  “That’s a rule here,” Neil told Marc quietly. “No shame in bleeding, only in not following the rules. Especially against Doug. We want people to learn to defend themselves. When he’s the teacher, you’re all right, but only men with a death wish or something to prove will challenge or accept one from Doug. He’s brutal. Few here are better.”

  Marc stored the information, automatically putting Adrian, Kenn, and Neil (hesitantly–there was something about the way the cop carried himself that said he could be deadly if he needed to be) into that category of “few” as the three men went down hard and fast.

  “Maybe four-to-one next time, eh, boys?”