by Angela White
The Price We Pay
Life After War: Book Seven
A Novel
By Angela White
The Price We Pay
By
Angela White
© 2015 Angela White
All rights reserved
Angela White © 1991
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Standard Copyright laws apply. Made in the United States.
Table of Contents
Chapter One: Is Anyone Listening?
Chapter Two: Cold Winds
Chapter Three: I See More
Chapter Four: Do Your Duty!
Chapter Five: Bingo Time
Chapter Six: Past Emotions
Chapter Seven: Stirring the Pot
Chapter Eight: Choices To Make
Chapter Nine: One Lie or Fifty?
Chapter Ten: Disguises and Reprisals
Chapter Eleven: Wet Work
Chapter Twelve: Go For The Throat
Chapter Thirteen: The Winds Are Blowing
Chapter Fourteen: Time To Go
Chapter Fifteen: That Bitch!
Chapter Sixteen: Not Just Everyone Can
Chapter Seventeen: Make Me Believe It
Chapter Eighteen: What Ghosts May Come
Chapter Nineteen: The Wildcards
Chapter Twenty: Before The Storm
Chapter Twenty-One: All-Day Battle
Chapter Twenty-Two: Unfinished Chores
Chapter Twenty-Three: Taken or Infiltrated? You Decide
Chapter Twenty-Four: Keeping Track
Chapter Twenty-Five: Limited Information
Chapter Twenty-Six: Under The Bus
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Soft Kisses and Sweet Rocking
Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Flock
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Riding The Waves
Chapter Thirty: Homecoming
Chapter Thirty-One: My Way Or The Highway
Chapter Thirty-Two: Consequences
Chapter Thirty-Three: Aftermath
Chapter Thirty-Four: Pigeons Coming Home To Roost
Chapter Thirty-Five: Closing
From the Author
Extras
Low Lead & Thin Walls
When it’s all on the line,
When instinct says its time,
Do you run, hide, or fight?
Do you pray? Support? Provide sight?
Never an easy choice,
Others always figure in.
Women and children go first;
Laws from an age of bigger men.
Backs to thin walls,
Lead running low…
Do you step out front?
Or disgrace yourself down low?
Can you give it all up?
Can you truly say goodbye?
Can you stumble over their bodies?
And not see yourself cry?
And to our enemy, would you hand us over?
We used to be your neighbors!
Our children played together,
Where we refused to allow these bad behaviors.
How many of you will betray us?
How many of us will you kill?
It’s only a question of numbers,
And who pays the final bill.
What will be the cost?
What will be the price we pay?
“Any win, is a win,” people quote,
Uncaring as their souls decay.
Why does our existence terrify you?
How can you respect life so little?
Our freedoms have been your hidden vices,
Even as you lie and cast us evil.
We used to be one nation,
Under our own god.
United, not divided.
Kind, not blind.
More considerate, than hypocrite!
To terror, from near bliss.
From the promised land, to cursed.
When did it come to this?
While we were busy conquering the earth.
Chapter One
Safe Haven
9/1/2013
As sunrise began to lighten the giant mountain peaks around Safe Haven, large envelopes were delivered to nearly every member of camp and then to the camps alongside theirs. The warmly dressed people here now numbered nearly one thousand, roughly the same as the force coming for them, though young and elderly had been included in Angela’s count. The soldiers wouldn’t have those among their group.
Normally there might have been jokes about plain brown envelopes being quietly delivered, but not now. In those packages was life for some and death for others. No one wanted to receive them and it was fitting that they were being handed out during a chilly predawn drizzle.
These packages were Angela’s plan in a hundred small pieces, and the Eagles delivered each one carefully into the hands it was intended for. The directive was to wait until the date and time written on the front of the envelope, then open it and follow the orders inside. Nearly every package was dated for Labor Day. The missions had been chosen and delivered, the people were prepared as much as they could be, and now, war would roll their way once more.
1
“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 and 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 weren’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 outnumbered and piecing together an army of tailors, traders, and 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 and she was doing well.
Marc observed from behind the barrels of gunpowder as Angela roughly shoved a rookie—Kip.
“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 ar
ound 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 and she had the power to enforce every threat she made. It was something they knew even without her Eagle detail.
That group of guards on her was excessive, but Marc had refused to listen 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 Brady’s return and Adrian’s bruises were still bright, condemning. He had been released from the medical tent last night, wrapped in a blanket ad 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 Angela 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 said. 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 and 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 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 and 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 and the demon faded. Marc hadn’t asked him 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 and 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.
2
“Here’s your schedule for today,” Kenn said, handing the paper to Kendle as she stood in line for the bathroom.
Kendle read it with a scowl. She hadn’t been expecting 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 Brady find you?”
“Standing on her husband’s grave,” Marc said, coming up behind them on his rounds. “Have some sympathy. She survived being eaten alive. Could you?”
Kenn blanched, actually thinking to offer compassion, but Kendle was storming away.
Kenn saw who she was trailing and 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 even!
Kenn let go of her when he was sure the two women were face-to-face. “Be very careful.”
Angela was staring with crimson orbs, promising silently that she was capable of everything Kendle had already suffered and more.
“Fine!” Kendle snapped, heading 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 levels of chaos were beyond normal, even for the military.
Her voice inside has to be absolute evil, Kenn thought. His days of crossing her were certainly over. Anyone who tried had better watch their six.
3
“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 and the bitter 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 and 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.
Marc understood 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. The 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 pulled on his gloves and turned for the target area and 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. He 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 and thanks to the apocalypse; Adrian was now able to live it. Marc was right. Killing him was the only solution.
