Adrian's Eagles: Book Four (Life After War) (72 page)

The rain began to fall harder, slowing them down further and the wind rocked them along the sunken lanes of Interstate 70. The road was amazingly clear of traffic, but it was slowly becoming a pond as the torrents continued. Hail pinged off roofs and hoods as the lightning cracked, striking a structure in the distance.

Crack!

They watched as flames burst, and immediately began fighting the driving rain for survival. Thunder rolled above the small convoy, loud and echoing as if in warning and all of them wondered how things were going back in camp.

4

The news of Rick’s escape had worried everyone except for a single sullen teenager, but now that the Slavers were coming, the traitor had been forgotten.

Becky had been sneaking out to their usual meeting places, hoping he would be there, but he hadn’t shown. Until this morning, Rick’s name had been on everyone’s lips and Becky hated them for it. They didn’t know him like she did. They all called him evil and a killer, but she didn’t see it that way. He’d told them who he was, told her…

“
Psst
…”

Becky spun to the see the object of her thoughts in the shadows behind the barn. Only his shaking head kept her from throwing herself into his arms.

“Careful.”

The teenager took a subtle glance around, but as usual, she was being overlooked by everyone. It was almost like she didn’t exist while they hurried to defend the camp.

Rick stayed still as she moved toward the showers and darted into the underbrush instead. His eyes went around. Any observers? He grinned. No.

“Come on.”

Becky followed him away from the chaos of camp, loving the nervous chills in her stomach. He’d come back for her!

As soon as he thought it was safe, Rick turned and opened his arms. Like he’d hoped, she didn’t hesitate and neither did he.

Instead of the intense hug she wanted, Becky found her lips against his, her chest crushed tightly to him. She thought to resist, but he eased his grip then and she responded to the feel of him against her female body. He was hard in all the places that she was soft.

Rick drew back after a long moment, debating changing his plans. He could take her now. No one knew where she was and with everything they were doing, she wouldn’t be missed for hours.

“I have to know why you didn’t tell them.”

Shy under his gaze, Becky flushed, tone low. “I like you, more than them.”

Rick swept her back up and this time, gave her the gentle welcome she’d been longing for. He held her until she began to let her fingers play in his hair and Rick kept himself still even when she shifted against him restlessly. He hadn’t meant to encourage her, only get some information, but the sight of her welcoming young face had been too much to resist.

“Will you… kiss me again?”

His wolf-like leer was quickly hidden. “Anytime you want!”

She laughed, a fresh, innocent peal of delight that had him dropping his mouth to hers. He couldn’t take her away from Safe Haven yet, but he could slowly steal her virginity right out from under Neil’s nose, and he would. Then he’d kill her.

5

By dusk, the convoy was still more than ten miles from Glendale and Adrian thought it was ironic that they weren't even going to make it to the place the Slavers thought they would be. He waited for the check-in to decide what to do, but when the call came, it didn't ease his mind. The Slavers were only eight miles behind and Adrian hit the button as the violent lightning flashed.

"We need a sturdy, easy to defend shelter, gentlemen."

Kyle responded immediately, "We did a map-check a few minutes ago. We saw a YMCA and a rest stop."

"The rest stop is brick and small. No fires and no sneaking in," Zack stated from the truck behind them.

Adrian hit the button. "The rest stop. Secure and get set up right away. We won't have much time."

"Copy, out."

There was no question, no hesitation and Angela felt a little better about the plan changing so rapidly. “How long will we have?"

"An hour, maybe," he said, following the signs for the rest area through the driving rain. “More like forty-five minutes.”

“To set it all up in this weather?"

Adrian slowed, seeing the building come up on their right. "This weather is what will make it work. They won't be able to see anything until they're trapped." He pulled the Semi over and found his one prayer answered. There were cicada-covered trees everywhere.

The rain had settled down a bit, but the wind was still gusting as Adrian unlocked the back doors using the button Kenn had installed weeks ago for this very moment.

"Ready?" he asked, the men around them already out and moving supplies, disappearing into the landscape.

Angela pulled on her dark hood, backpack over her arm. “You know it.”

They both rushed from the cool truck and into the cold rain, taking shelter under the small awning over the brick building’s double glass doors. Doug and Neil and a few others were already there and they went inside with guns drawn.

The doors were unlocked and the men secured the one large room in seconds and then began carrying things into the Ellsworth County rest stop.

Adrian waved the closest man over for guard duty. “You two stay down and out of the way," He locked eyes with Angela. "When it starts, I'd like you to pass out ammo and anything else we need."

"That's it?" Cynthia asked disappointedly, tape recorder on in her pocket.

Thinking of last night’s violent dream, where not one or even two perfectly made shots had been enough to save Angela, Adrian headed outside. "For now."

The fifteen men in the rear of the rig were out the minute the lock clicked. They took their share of the boxes and disappeared into the landscape. They were careful to show each other the traps as the storm began to pick up again, and the sky started looking like the ten minutes or so before full dark.

Adrian and a few of the men worked outside, hiding their vehicles after making sure their tracks continued out of sight. The others were inside and the sound of drilling echoed out the open doors, rolled past Adrian, across the street and up into the heavily wooded area. It almost drowned out the hordes of cicadas roosting in the trees. The noise didn't last but five minutes and then there were three new holes, all filled in with red handkerchiefs. Even from only a few feet away, it was hard to tell they were there. Two of the three holes looked out into the tall brick walls that made the long entrance to the bathrooms, one on each side of the rest stop. Anyone taking shelter there would be in for a nasty surprise.

Thick wooden boards were nailed over the two front windows, leaving a three inch gap at the bottom to shoot from and vests were nailed loosely over these windows so the men inside would have cover.

Adrian stared at the roof, where two men now waited, hidden behind the decorative chimney and a camouflaged shield of vests. He was satisfied when he couldn’t pick them out.

The Leader went to his semi, pulling himself nimbly up without noticing how soaked he was, but he did think that annoying, high-pitched song of the bugs was louder. He keyed the mic. "Location for Eagle by 6."

Adrian went to 36 and waited, worried when there was no answer. He didn't call again though, hoping they were lying low and too close to the Slavers to call. He climbed down slowly and was about to close the door when the lightning flashed and the radio sparked.

"They’re in Black Wolf now, moving fast."

Adrian scrambled for the mic. "Roger, by 5, 3 and 9."

He flipped to the right channel and keyed the mic. "We're in the Ellsworth Rest Stop. Break off and get ahead. Join Kyle."

"Roger, out."

Relief was in Jeremy’s voice, but there was excitement too and Adrian was glad to hear it. The scouting team wanted to be here for the battle, but they would be careful not to be seen or heard and ruin the plan. He hit the button on his chest, using the new coded short-wave setup that the Slavers wouldn’t be able to pick up until they were less than half a mile away.

“We've got five minutes."

"Copy."

Adrian stepped back under the awning, frowning at the sudden feeling of doom that flew over him. Had he forgotten something? He turned toward Angela, finding her through the glass. She hadn’t taken up a place under the windows, but her eyes were glowing and her gun was in hand.
Good.

“Get under cover. They’re three minutes out.”

He saw his secret terror mirrored in her face before she moved to take up a prime spot at one of the windows. Outside, the cicadas fell silent.

6

The building was pitch-black when the faint sounds of engines echoed through the storm.

Adrian knew he didn't have to tell Kyle to get set and he took his place near the door with a few others, rifle in one hand, radio in the other.

"They’re here," Angela warned and the first broken headlights flashed off the trees and across the wet pavement.

"They'll be slow when they pass us, but it’s dark. They won't see anything unless we move." Adrian’s words were comforting and they all held perfectly still as streams of light lit up the parking area and the sidewalk, and then the room. They stared at the front doors as the wet vehicles began to roll by.

Angela let out a cold sigh as that hard shield of battle fell into place. "Now! He just saw your truck. Kill them now!"

Adrian keyed his mic, sure fate was standing still, watching this moment. "It's a go!"

The Eagles waited in the mud and rain as the army of headlights rolled toward them in the windy darkness, peering from behind the trees, picnic tables and grills.

Kyle was cool and calm, ready. It helped that he was a natural, too, and he was raising his arm to throw, even as the walkie-talkie crackled, "It's a go!"

He took aim on the gold Corvette and threw.

Outside the rest stop, for one last instant, there was only the storm and the Slavers. Then hell split open and swallowed them as the Eagles across the street unleashed their fire and brimstone.

Kyle’s aim was perfect, but the wind gusted, sending wet branches flying into his path. The grenade was deflected and it fell to the grass before bouncing onto the pavement. The gold Corvette rolled, unknowing, over it.

Seconds later it exploded under a red truck, fire ripping through the cab as it rose off the ground and fell back hard, metal splintering. The three men inside were killed instantly. The blue Ford behind it crashed into the fiery wreckage a second later.

The Slavers began slamming on their brakes and plowing into each other to avoid the flaming mess and the dull thud of steel hitting steel echoed. Burning metal had men trapped and their screams went unheeded as more grenades flew.

Cars exploded in sheets of burning debris behind the first wreck, cutting off that route of escape. More fire exploded in front of them, still aiming at the gold convertible, and the Slavers panicked. Realizing they’d been led into a trap, they rear-ended each other, swerving and causing pileups. Most of the two lanes were completely blocked less than 30 seconds into the battle.

Armed men were now abandoning their blocked-in cars, heading for the cover of the trees as gunfire began to echo. Cesar was screaming into the mic that it was an ambush, to keep driving, but large groups of Mexicans fled to either side of the road.

More grenades went shooting through the wet air as a huge volley of gunshots began and four more cars with men still inside were destroyed. Some killed, most were trapped with the flames coming their way.

Kyle flashed his light, signaling his men to fall back, and the Eagles retreated behind the ambush site as the first of the fleeing Slavers reached the wired trees.

Men streamed into the cover of nature, and the noise of the cicadas suddenly exploded through the storm as a large group hit the first trap at almost the same time.

Blood flew in thick splatters as men lost hands, had their throats slit and their stomachs sliced open. Bloody rain began soaking into the ground and screams of horror filled the battlefield. These sounds grew when the hungry bugs above them began coming down for a drink.

Not realizing that was where the noises of agony were coming from, more men ran toward death as grenades continued to explode, herding them.

Adrian and Marc had estimated that their trap would kill or critically wound half of the Slavers and they were close. Thirty-five men were killed in the mad rush, another eight would likely bleed to death, and the fiery mess on the road took more than twenty. Roughly 60 men had run into the trees and the remaining killers scattered toward the rest area where Adrian and his men were waiting. The rest were eaten alive.

A dozen Guerillas made it past the guns on the roof and in the windows, fleeing into the brick bathroom stalls, and another ten went behind those tall walls, all looking vainly for help as the Eagles picked them off.

At Adrian’s nod, the men inside the rest stop shoved their guns through the holes and let loose. Again caught off guard, only one Mexican made it out of the stalls alive, dashing to join the six who waited beneath the only trees on that side that were close enough together to provide any real protection. They stared longingly at the cars in the street, many of them still running, the doors open wide. Two of them suddenly darted for these magic carpets and were picked off like ducks at a carnival, triggering a rush of cicadas that swarmed over their exposed flesh like acid.