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Authors: Angela White,Kim Fillmore,Lanae Morris

The Survivors: Book One (49 page)

BOOK: The Survivors: Book One
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“Just a simple plan, a team of a dozen,” Adrian said, leading him, and Kenn’s pen started moving, copying his own words as he too settled into the groove and gave Adrian exactly what he needed at that moment - signs of progress.

“We’d need to start more men as Eagles, snipers, a long-range communications system, and we would need to be running full-time gun classes…wish we could find ammo for the rifles, but we’ll make do.”

Adrian waited, wanting to see if Kenn would get the most important parts.

“Also need more tents and some practices for the camp, a drill of some kind.”

Kenn looked up suddenly. “Cheyenne’s close to the Slavers’ path, on 25. Will the camp go, with the base in Montana so close?”

Adrian looked out the dirty window, voice like stone, as Kenn spoke what he’d been thinking. Even his right-hand believed they were still going. He would take care of that at the next camp meeting. “All the Eagles will. The camp would feel extremely unprotected while we’re gone.”

Kenn said nothing at the threat, not doubting. Those words wouldn’t be used, but the message would be clear. Adrian was going, and those who were with him, would follow. The rest would have to fend for themselves, until - if - he came back for them. “When will they be told?”

“Right after the next call, but it’s best to start with little hints now. Have people ‘overhear’ the men say it’s our duty. If not for that, none of them would be safe right now. Remind them that Americans don’t turn away from doing what’s right, just because it’s hard.”

 

 

 

9

The sky was full of vivid shades of purple and green that were mesmerizing, and Adrian saw people taking long looks at the mysterious beauty as he headed to dinner. There was a large crowd in and around the Mess, most people talking of the shooting contest to come and of Kenn’s match-up with Doug.

There were still yells and groans from a late-running football game, garbage cans full of trash burning at the four corners of the camp, and two warmly-dressed women were playing their guitars softly around the large bonfire. It felt like early October as Adrian got his tray and headed for the already full middle table. The smell of salt came to him, bringing flashes of an angry sea, and he wondered where and how many they’d be come Fall.

The rookie guards were at a double table nearby, still congratulating and welcoming Seth, and the Level Threes were on the other side of the Boss’ table, looking glum, as they listened to the happy voices.

Doug and Neil sat across from Kenn, and when Adrian pushed his mostly finished tray aside, the others did too. “Mini meeting and we can skip it later.”

Notebooks and pens came out, and Adrian got busy, not lowering his voice. It was crucial to his plans that the camp thought they knew how he ran things. “Sitrep on your run.”

“We got everything on the lists, except gas. All the stations were dry or destroyed.”

“Alpine?”

“Just like all the rest. Nothing alive. We took pictures.”

“Okay. That’s it. Who’s ready to shoot something?”

The men laughed, the boasting loud, and Adrian saw Doug hand Kenn his envelope with an apologetic nod that he was glad to see the Marine accept casually, as if Doug hadn’t insulted him, when clearly he had. Things were looking up.

 

 

 

10

“All right, let’s get to it.” Bonfire warming his back, Adrian stood in front of two teams of men, his Army, and raised his bottle. “Rookies! Congratulations on passing!”

All the men cheered, one group much louder than the other, and they all drank together.

“You are now Level One Eagles. You boys get to choose your leader tonight and I’ll need a name before this meeting’s over.”

He raised his bottle again. “Level Three Eagles, congratulations on passing!”

There were a lot of surprised looks with the cheers and Adrian waved a hand at Kyle. “You made it past Kenn and while there were mistakes, you couldn’t have won anyway. Seth was the wild card that you can’t always be ready for. I consider it a success.”

Both groups cheered fully this time, drank, and Adrian held up a hand as it lingered this time. “We have one more challenge tonight, a personal level test.”

The leader waved a hand. “Come up here, Seth.”

The cop left his beer and new friends, approaching Adrian with pride and confusion.

“You have demonstrated great thinking skills, excellent teamwork, and an above average slyness that American men have used to protect this country for centuries. As a reward, Kenn will give you a test. If you pass, you’ll graduate straight to the top level and start with Kyle and his Eagles tomorrow.”

 The men all cheered, glad for him, and Seth raised a brow as he grinned. “When?”

Kenn stood and Adrian grinned back. “Now.”

The leader tossed his dog tags at Kenn’s booted feet, and the wind immediately began trying to cover the shiny metal with sand. “All you have to do is pick ‘em up and hand ‘em to me.”

“That’s it?”

The newly-crowned Level Four men groaned, snorted at the question. Kenn’s look was menacing enough to make Seth get serious, as he realized this wouldn’t be a give-me. The Marine had beaten Doug.

“Just get by me, is all,” Kenn sneered.

Seth nodded, handing his gun to Adrian. The second he let go of it, he spun and dove for the tags.

He came close, but Kenn kicked his shoulder with the flat of his boot at the last second, sending him rolling through the grit.

Seth got easily to his feet, eyes on the prize, and this time when he rushed Kenn, the Marine used his own weight to throw him across the ring of now standing and shouting men.

He gained his balance, rolling as he landed. When the cop rushed a third time, Kenn planted a hard fist in his ribs that had him grunting.

“This is for real! If you don’t want it, quit now!” Kenn growled, not about to take it easy on the redhead even though he hoped for another ally in him.

Seth shook his head, side hurting and heart waking at the challenge. His body language changed, became intent.

Each of the Level men watched him, remembering their own tests, and that moment when they too had realized they wanted it almost more than anything - because of Adrian.

Seth moved closer, circling, no longer eyeing the metal under Kenn’s feet, but keeping track of it. This time when the redhead rushed, he came in low and hard, making the Marine take a step back as they shoved against each other.

Kenn quickly delivered a vicious kick to his knee, then another to his ankle, and Seth fell, grunting in pain.

“Just quit,” Kenn ordered. “Give up!”

Seth’s face hardened, and everyone watching knew that he wouldn’t. The feeling of failing Adrian was one that would never go away, not in this new life.

The redhead got to his feet for a fourth time, and Adrian watched with real interest, as fire grew in the cop’s eyes. Seth stepped straight at Kenn, like he meant to rush again, and instead, swung a roundhouse that landed on Kenn’s jaw, rocking him back.

The other fist came around, slamming into the Marine’s cheek, and then Kenn was hitting back, and Seth went to his knees in the sand as the Marine beat on his face.

Seth sank his head into Kenn’s hard gut, shoving with his legs, and as they rolled over, his fingers clutched at the dusty ground. His pinky snagged the chain and when he got to his feet, the dog tags were securely in his grip.

He flashed them at Kenn, who was moving determinedly in his direction. “I got ‘em! It’s over, right?” he panted, and then ducked as Kenn swung.

 “But, I’m done. I...”

No one spoke, waiting for him to figure it out.

His eyes narrowed at Adrian’s outstretched hand and then he was moving, ducking, darting, and shoving his way to the man whose life he often dreamed of giving his own for.

Kenn spun him back by the shoulder, and Seth threw out a fist, punching him hard and Kenn swung back, rocking the cop on his heels.

Pissed now, Seth returned the hit, putting his weight into it. When Kenn did the same, the Eagles watching were impressed that Seth stayed on his feet.

The two men kept swinging, trading blow for fast blow, but when Adrian gave him a subtle nod, Kenn delivered a nasty hit to Seth’s forehead that knocked him face down in the dirt at the leader’s feet.

When Seth’s hand rose, Adrian bent down and retrieved his property. “Pass. Effective immediately, you are a Level Four Eagle.”

“No.”

There was a shocked silence as Seth climbed to his feet, covered in sand and blood drops.

“Because?”

“Because…they...voted me team leader...earlier. Can’t have… that as a Level Four.”

Adrian grinned, and Kenn slung an arm around the cop’s tense, gritty shoulders. “If you knew you didn’t want it, why did you go through with the test?”

Seth grinned at his fellow Eagle, but the look in his eyes said his words were for Adrian. “To prove…that I could.”

 

 

 

11

The call came just as Adrian was grinding his hard body against a very willing ass, breath coming in short rasps. He pressed a quick, apologetic kiss to her neck as he stepped back, zipped up.

He left without a word, heading quickly through the blowing grit to the communications truck - sliding into the sandy seat a minute later.

As he keyed the mic, Adrian was aware of Kenn waiting nearby to help him. Good. The Marine would make it easier. “This is Eagle One. Go ahead with your message.”

“We need help.”

“Tell me what exactly.”

“We have to leave no matter what, but we need an armed escort. Things are rough here.”

“How rough? Don’t send me in blind, but be careful what you say.”

“Slavers.”

That one word brought mutters from the half a dozen men now lingering around the radio truck and Adrian keyed the mic, “Do any of you know Morse code?”

“No... Wait.”

There were a few seconds of silence.

“We know it.”

Adrian waved a hand to Kenn and the Marine opened his notebook, slid into the other chair. “Get ready for a message. Word for word, Marine. Don’t miss one.”

“Go ahead, Safe Haven.”

Adrian gave Kenn the mic. “Say the number, five.”

Kenn tapped and they waited.

“Five.”

“Say the state, Nevada.”

“Nevada.”

Kenn gave Adrian a nod and got ready to work.

“We will fight for you, protect you, and feed you. In return, you’ll be expected to obey and work for it.”

There was a lot of tapping and silence, and Adrian waited impatiently for this part to be over so he could get to the information he needed.

“Agreed, but everyone goes.”

Kenn handed the mic back to Adrian, and the leader’s voice was flat, “We don’t leave Americans behind. I’ve got some questions. Ready?”

“Roger that, Safe Haven and thank you. You’re the first Americans we’ve heard, who aren’t in the same boat as us.”

Kenn took the mic back, frowning. “Tell exactly double the number of people you have. Include everyone.”

“Seventy.”

“How many fighters? Double it.”

“Ten.”

Both men winced. “Weapons?”

“Limited.”
Tap tap tap tap tap
. “A few hand guns. No ammo.”

“Have you seen the Slavers?”

“Yes. Twice, from a distance.”

“How many are there? Double it and add a hundred.”

“Not exact, four hundred?”

Adrian’s frown was deep. “Where are they now?”

The taps went on for a long time, Kenn’s hand flying, and then he was circling an area on the map and holding it up for the boss to see. Adrian counted quickly.

Tap tap tap tap tap…

He looked over his Marine’s shoulder, reading out loud: “Heard them this morning. They spend a few days each time they take a town. Most people here are from the places they’ve invaded.”

Kenn gave Adrian a look. “Based on his calculations, they’re only four towns away from Cheyenne. Two and a half weeks.”

Adrian nodded, the plan falling into place in his head. He didn’t like it, but it was the only thing he could do. “Tell them to be ready from the 21st. Radio silence until then, unless they see or hear of the Slavers reaching Wellington. Switch to channel 18 and say double the date I’ve just given you.”

“Forty two.”

Adrian took the mic back, hoping the Slavers weren’t listening. Hundreds of channels and both calls had lasted less than seven minutes total. Maybe they would get lucky. “Hang in there, Overloaded. Liberty and Justice will prevail.”

“Roger that, Safe Haven. Cheyenne, out.”

Adrian looked at his right-hand man, “It’s yours, Marine. Hope for the best, but plan for the worst.”

Kenn’s eyes were confident, “We’ll come and go like the wind.”

 

Chapter Twenty Four

March 10
th
, 2013

 

1

Still alone and once again in danger, Samantha’s heart was pounding, as she waited motionless in the dank basement of a farmhouse on the outskirts of Boulder, Colorado.

BOOK: The Survivors: Book One
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