The Survivors: Book One (61 page)

“I’ll get it. Sit back down, will ya? That was enough dope to knock you out,” Angela scolded, finished.

When he didn’t answer - only put a hand on the hatch for support - she went to him, slipped an arm around his lean hips. “Come on, Brady. Time to hit the rack.”

“Been waitin' weeks to hear that,” he joked tiredly and she surprised him by laughing. “Well, wait a while longer, Romeo. Come on now, slide in.”

Marc eased onto the stiff bed, and she tossed the two top blankets over him. When he looked at her, his deep blue eyes were full of fear instead of the male pride she had been expecting. “I’ll get sick now, right?”

She didn’t even consider lying to him as she brushed dust from her jeans and then leaned inside to pull up his blankets. “Maybe.”

“Will I die?”

“Oh, God no!” she exclaimed, sliding in to sit next to him. “At the worst, you’ll be tired, have diarrhea, and throw up, but it’ll only last a couple weeks because you’re in great shape.”

“So, I’ll just feel like I died.”

She grinned, running her hand over his clammy brow to smooth his hair back, loving the feel of it against her fingers. “That’s the worst. We handled it quickly. You might be a little queasy for a couple days, but probably not even that. You’ll be fine.”

Marc sighed, relieved, and she stayed with him until he fell asleep, staring at her until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

The chill in the wind made Angela shiver as she stepped out to repack everything, and she loaded it quickly so he wouldn’t get a draft. The heater’s batteries were dead, all the propane cylinders gone, and they couldn’t waste the quarter tank of gas they had left to run the engine while they slept. Body heat would have to do.

Finished, Angela ignored her racing pulse as she closed herself back inside the tepid Blazer with him and laid down, Dog still outside. She slid carefully against his back, covering up, and closed her eyes as the horror of the day washed over her.

The constant voice of fear was whispering that she would pay dearly for breaking Kenny's rules, that it wasn’t just her life in danger. She wasn’t allowed to talk to another man, let alone crawl into bed with one. The past rose up to assault her weary mind, thoughts of being separated from her children flashing, and she let herself cry a little against his warm comfort. What was she going to do? She was chained to one man but loved another.

Marc had woken the second she’d gotten back out of the Blazer and her pain was something he couldn’t ignore. He slowly rolled over and wrapped his arms around her.

“It’ll be okay, Honey,” he whispered, and she hoped he was right.

“I am.”

She looked at him questioningly, and he brushed away her tears.

“We’re connected. Always were. No one can stop that.” He kissed her cheek, felt her shiver. “We belong together Angie and right or wrong, I love you. Always have.”

Her tears fell harder. “There’s no future for us, Brady. He’ll never let me go.”

“We’ll find a way to convince him.”

“And if we can’t?”

He didn't hesitate. “Under no circumstances will I allow you to just give in. You’re going to fight back and he’s gonna get a wakeup call.”

Chapter Thirty Two

March 26
^th
, 2013

South Dakota state line

1

Danger to the herd!

Adrian woke to the ground beneath his tent grumbling, groaning in protest. He grabbed for his boots as the tremor strengthened and the panic started.

Things were falling, breaking, feet were running, an engine started, and radios crackled, but the silent roar of the quake distorted the sounds somehow, making his ears vibrate.

Adrian pulled his jacket over his bare chest and ducked outside as he zipped it up, sharp eyes finding those of the nervous, unsure guards. They’d had tremors before, but not as strong as this, and he keyed his mic. “Hold your posts, Eagles.”

Adrian waved Neil and Kenn over, the two black-clad men roughly the same height. They came to him quickly, dodging camp members in robes and slippers who were fleeing - most toward the parking areas.

He hit his radio again. “Empty your clip, Doug. Turn ‘em around!”

The towering, red-vested giant didn’t question, just fired into the air above the small mob of about 30.

Ground no longer rumbling, the gunfire got immediate attention. The panicked herd of sheep pulled up short and stopped, eyes wild with fear.

Doug’s heavily-bearded face was full of disapproval, but he only waved a beefy hand to where Adrian stood, before limping back to his post.

 The crowd slowly turned, staring at the sight of Kenn and Neil hunkered down to let Adrian stand on their shoulders. It was such an unexpected thing that it instantly captured the twitching crowd, and the red-vested giant watching it all had the thought that Adrian had expected this, had planned his reaction perfectly. It was simple - distraction.

Seth, a quiet shadow ready to protect the boss, had the same thought, and he shared a grin with the Eagle on point, Kyle, who knew where he was hiding. Nearly everyone was watching, the crowd growing as more people came out of their tents.

Adrian tapped the dark heads below him. “Up.”

The Eagles moved slowly, but there was little teamwork, and Adrian swayed dangerously - amusingly. His wild face and arm movements drew small titters from the calming group of nearly sixty, most of them refugees from Cheyenne who had broken their quarantine.

The leader grinned as they lifted him up and the watching people gave a small, uneasy cheer in return.

“We had a tremor. This is how it feels.” Adrian lowered his voice. “Walk, guys, and do it together for God sakes or I’ll break my friggin' neck!”

He raised his voice, “We survived it.” He swayed, almost fell, and the two tall Eagles grabbed at his legs, pulling more laughter from the people.

“Damn it!” Adrian hauled himself up by sheer will, struggled to stay there. Hearing real calm now in their reactions, he gave up the fight, wobbling.

“He’s gonna fall!”

“Grab him!”

“Down, guys!” Adrian rolled forward with the fall as Neil and Kenn bent down, and ended up on his feet in front of the crowd that let out a cheer, clapping.

Adrian waded into the thick of them, and they quieted, most of them realizing they had overreacted, and were due a scolding.

His men watched silently, thinking they were beyond lucky that once again Adrian had known how to handle the crisis - nothing broke the spell of panic and fear like laughter.

Nose full of sulfur and smoke, Adrian felt the air shift, knew by their downcast eyes and silence that they understood, and said nothing, only looked back with hard, blue eyes. The silence stretched out.

When many of them were about to start offering apologies, Adrian stopped them with a shake of his head. “During a quake, you get away from anything that can fall on you and then stop. Wait and look for cracks that often open up.”

He pointed to the jagged, gaping hole in front of Doug that a lot of them would have fallen into if he hadn’t stopped them. “Like that one. Panic makes people do stupid things, and sometimes, it costs your life, something I can’t give back.”

Neil watched with the other Eagles, hands on his narrow hips, thinking Adrian was giving them what Kyle like to call the “lay”, or how things stood.

“All of you have broken Quarantine and will have extra time in it, along with all the camp members I’m looking at.” Adrian paused to spot them out with his sharp gaze, and the crowd was silent, ashamed. “This is nothing we can’t handle, if we use our heads. It's over now and I want this camp back the way it was and everyone accounted for.”

There was only silence and Adrian scowled, letting them see how displeased he actually was with an impatient jerk of his hand. “Move.”

The commanding tone had them all rushing off and he turned to Kenn and Neil as people went by, torn between talking of the tremor and his juggling act. “Sitrep in five. Check-in of the guards is first. Gather your team, Neil, and round up the strays. Kenn, get Mitch on the radio. Have Zack and his guys oversee the cleanup. I heard engines. Try to call ‘em back. Have Doug handle the count and tell the cook to start chow. Almost dawn anyway. Kyle keeps point. I’ll be around.”

Neil saw Seth’s tall, thin shadow go with Adrian, and the Arizona cop sent his gaze over the camp that already looked and felt better. He and Seth had hit it off, and he knew the redhead would cover Adrian’s overloaded back.

Five minutes later, Kenn and Adrian were in the Mess, the camp a flurry of activity in the foggy morning. They’d had no serious damage, no injuries, and all but two people were accounted for.

Adrian finished his coffee with a grimace as the stench of rot wafted through the crowded, loud, Mess. About three miles southwest of their camp, a large herd of bison lay dead. John was testing the bodies for radiation since there was no obvious cause of death. The big ants (that Adrian sometimes thought might be following them) were also here, along with a burgeoning population of field mice that they had set out traps out for.

This area was all nature as far as they could see, no sign that mankind had ever been here, except for the corpses. Adrian dreaded dropping south into the Badlands, but knew he would if John said fallout had killed the bison. That strange, eerie landscape would be better than sickness, but the barren area had little they needed. South Dakota was the sunshine state no more.

They wouldn’t stay long, only a couple of weeks total instead of the month they usually did, he decided. There wouldn’t be any camp tours of Mount Rushmore or any of the Wild West sites that featured Annie Oakley and Wild Bill Hickok. That world was gone.

“Everyone accounted for?” Adrian asked a short time later, and Neil opened his book.

“Almost. We had five cars leave camp. All but one is on the way back, and we made contact with the supply team. Chris said he hasn’t been able to reach the 5th yet.”

“They were together?”

Neil continued his report, “Says he saw two people in her convertible. They’ll probably show up at dawn.”

Adrian’s eyes spoke for him as he looked to his XO.

Kenn waved a hand for Kyle to join them from his post on the Mess. “Get your team and do a recon for Tonya and the Bitch. Half hour check-ins.”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed, but he swallowed his dislike, knowing the orders actually came from Adrian. Kenn didn’t like the reporter, few of them did, and though he was screwing the redhead, the mobster didn’t think he really cared for her.
Women were possessions to the Marine,
Kyle thought, calling in his relief early. He pitied the female who had shared Kenn’s bed before the War, when there had been no Adrian to keep him in line.

Kenn waited until the stocky, uniformed Eagle was out of earshot, noting the body language indicating the Mobster’s displeasure, but even that didn’t ease the thumping of his heart as he turned to Adrian. Angela was close. He had to leave.

“Mitch took a call. Thinks I missed someone in Cheyenne. A woman named Samantha.”

Adrian looked at him, saw the edge of fear in his Marine’s eyes. “Could you have?”

Kenn’s face was miserable. “Yes.”

Adrian knew instinctively there was more and waited unhappily when Kenn looked to the black hills that surrounded their camp, instead of maintaining eye contact.

“I need to leave for a while. Charlie’s stayin' here. I’ll recheck Cheyenne first and bring the woman back if she’s still there.”

His tone implied he doubted she would be, and Adrian hid his grimace as his heart skipped, sending pain into his arm. He couldn’t keep it from his eyes, and Kenn mistook it.

“I’ll be back. Soon.”

Chest slowly easing, Adrian gave him a hard look, mind and body already dreading the Marine’s absence. He had been more help than he knew. Fresh out of the quarantine zone, Kenn had only been back in camp for half a day as it was.

“When?”

Kenn didn’t want to look at him. “Now.”

Flat, devoid of emotion, and careful.

Adrian stopped, looked at him. “I told you once that everyone here is free to go anytime they please, and I meant that. If you have something to do, somewhere to go, come back when you’re ready. Just don’t forget about us. And watch your six. We need you.”

Kenn, light beard covering his guilty flush in the windy darkness, responded, “I hear that.”

Adrian frowned. It had been his experience that when someone said that, the opposite was true.

“I’m comin' back,” Kenn repeated, addressing the uniformed shadow who had given himself away by his quick breath at the news. “Hold my place.”

“You know it.”

The Marine hadn’t been sure how to bring up the subject, didn’t want to give details, but in his heart, he was sure the lone female had been Angela, not Samantha, the radio static making Mitch misunderstand. She was close. He had to go now and set her straight before the camp (before Adrian) met her. They could never be allowed to know who she was or what she could do.