The Survivors

1

Adrian looked up at movement in the gritty sky. An eagle flew over the camp, swooping in odd circles as if it was lost. Adrian mourned the bird and the country it unknowingly represented. Like the eagle, America wasn’t doing well.

Feeling weighed down by the burdens he was carrying, Adrian went to the medical area. He wasn’t happy to discover all the seats empty. People were afraid to hear what might be wrong. Unless he thought of another way, he would have to enforce the testing law.

“Coming in.” He ducked inside. Adrian chuckled at the uniformed doctor and nurse kissing in a dim corner.

They parted slowly.

Adrian smiled when Anne left to give them privacy without being asked. “Guess you’ve been a good boy.”

John was grateful. “Me and you both. She’s glad we came here. It does my heart good to see her happy.”

Adrian perched on a stool, noting the slight shake of his hands as the stocky man sat across from him. “I’m glad too, John. We need you both. I guess by now you’ve pretty much got things figured out.”

The doctor shrugged. “Enough to know we came to the right people, the right leadership.”

“I appreciate that. There’s a question I need to ask. Any idea?”

John agreed without hesitation, glad he could. “Yes, and you have it. We’re with you. I’m with you.”

Adrian handed him a glossy black notebook and an envelope from the unusually light inside pocket of his jacket. He was used to it being full of papers to decipher later. “These are some things I need answers for. I’ll get the equipment; just tell me exactly what you need. Most importantly, this stays between us.”

John took it, slipping his glasses on to read. “These are smart questions. I have some ideas I’ve wanted to try that might help with this, especially treatments. I’ll need specimens.”

Adrian moved toward the flap. “I have a few coolers in the rear of my semi. I’ll tell Kyle to give you access.”

As he left, John hid the paperwork. Adrian was being careful. He knew how to sing to his herd and get things done. The doctor was sure their young leader bent out of shape would be a sight to see.

As Adrian left the medical tent, Kenn joined him. “Kyle is three hours out. Mitch just talked to them.”

“Good. He say where they are?”

“No. Call them back?” Kenn made a note to never give the same answer again. From now on, he would gather all the information.

“No.” Adrian climbed under the broken fence, moving through the sand he’d had two boys rake and clear of debris. The dust storm was a burial for those who wouldn’t otherwise get one. “Game?”

Kenn shrugged, a bit disappointed that Adrian hadn’t said anything about him beating Doug. “If you like.”

Adrian dug through the dusty but otherwise untouched box of sport equipment they had put out this morning and came up with a football. “Go long.”

Kenn took off running.

Adrian threw the ball high and hard, hoping to draw some interest from his people. These games were good for them, but hard to get going. Most of the refugees kept to themselves as they dealt with their grief, so he scheduled regular times for things like this. They needed it as part of their recovery.

Kenn hurled the ball with a hard spin that made Adrian pay attention. For the next few minutes, he left the heaviness of leadership on the sidelines and lost himself in fun. The passes were hard and long, the catches punishing. The echo of their laughter and taunts drew people. A small crowd slowly gathered. When there was enough for teams, Adrian waved them in.

He and Kenn were the quarterbacks; it got rough from the start. Kenn, who still struggled to hide his true nature, slammed his way through three other players, knocking them aside to run by for a score.

“If you bleed, you’re out. Eagle Two’s team has six points.” Adrian smiled coolly. “Our turn.”

Adrian’s team let out a shout of approval.

The game became an outlet for them as they tripped, shoved, elbowed, and harassed each other.

It brought more people who were sensitive to loud noises now. When Adrian glanced up a short time later, nearly fifty camp members were watching, with about half waiting to play.

“Time out!” Adrian signaled Kenn over as he headed for the sidelines, stiff wind cooling his sweaty skin. “Pick your replacement. We have a level test to give.” Adrian threw the ball to Zack, knowing it would please Kenn. “Take my place, will ya? I’ve been knocked down enough.”

Everyone was laughing as the two men left. The leader had been tripped and hurried, but he hadn’t hit the ground even once due to great protection, deft footwork, and respect.

The game continued behind them.

Both men were pleased. Kenn, because his side had been up by twelve points when they stopped. Adrian because he had gotten his people to come out of their shells for a moment. “Gather the level ones. Seth, too. Send ‘em to that barn half a mile down the road; have them put on the vests. Neil is a supervisor, not their team leader. We’ll find out who that is today. Their mission begins with securing a 200’ perimeter and staying out of sight. If anyone sees them leave camp, they fail. You can meet me at the house next to that barn in half an hour.”

Kenn gave Adrian a paper as he left. It was his first attempt at tests like these, though he had worked with the man before the war. Nobody had been better than Marc Brady at high casualty ambushes.

Adrian gave it a quick read, then put it away, going to the guard on the parking area, Daryl. The level three Eagle wasn’t out of camp with Kyle. “Anyone come in?”

The tall, thin football coach sighed. “No, it’s all quiet.”

Adrian grunted, not showing his disappointment. The magic he needed wasn’t coming today. “Kenn will be by for the paperwork. That’s his job now. When’s Kyle due?”

Smothering a frown, Daryl checked his sheet. “Little over an hour.”

“Great. Let’s give them a call. Message is to put on the vests and pay attention. Mission objective, shake my hand to pass to level four status.”

Daryl keyed his headset, one of a dozen that Kenn had upgraded this week. “Base to Eagle Four.”

There was a few seconds of silence, then Kyle’s calm voice echoed, “This is Four, base.”

“I’ve been instructed to tell you to put on the noisemakers and look alive before you hit camp.”

“Copy. What is the mission objective?”

“Physical contact with Eagle One.”

“Copy. Four out.”

Daryl did a quick scan of the dusty landscape before turning to Adrian. “Can I help?”

“Absolutely. You’re the instructor, then the hostage. Location is the barn half a mile back. The rookies are going there now. Go and entertain them the way I did at your first test.”

Daryl grinned at the memory and the responsibility he’d been given. “You got it.”

Adrian slipped into his truck as the guard left. The leader changed clothes, made contact with the next shift coming on, then snuck away to play with his army.

2

Adrian and Kenn reached the dusty farmhouse at the same time, both easily avoiding the level one Eagles clustering behind the sandy barn. Daryl was nowhere in sight as the small group of men talked for a minute, with Neil refusing leadership as instructed. When the rookies advanced, Adrian saw it was Seth who led them.

The small team swept the barn and shed but avoided the house, as Adrian had known they would. When they disappeared into the barn, he and Kenn moved to the long porch of the farmhouse to observe the show and watch their surroundings.

This was a draft area, with wrecked army trucks, uniformed dead already stripped of their weapons, and doors kicked in, but there were no longer dried bloodstains, and the charred frames in the distance were mostly covered in sand. Thanks to the slight sloping hill, the camp’s view was blocked, but Adrian hated it even as he used it. To be out of sight was to feel out of control.

As he and Kenn watched, Daryl, with hardware on his back, slid behind a tree near the barn’s blind side. He edged around the corner to the front doors and picked up a 2x4 from a tall stack along the faded cowshed. He slid it into the front door handles, blocking an easy escape without drawing attention. The men inside were peering through the single window of the second-floor loft, unable to see anything below the overhang. Without a guard posted outside, Daryl had full access to the building.

Daryl unslung and hefted the grenade launcher to his shoulder in one smooth movement, entering their line of sight as he aimed at the window.

Faces ducked; men yelled a late warning as he fired.

“Incoming!”

“Get down!”

Glass shattered. A loud hiss of smoke echoed as the canister exploded in a cloud of gas. Everyone bolted for the blocked doors, shoving and throwing themselves against wood that wasn’t quite rotten enough to break.

Adrian and Kenn joined Daryl in front of the barn as thick, gray smoke rolled through the broken window and from under the molding door.

“Door’s blocked!”

“Shoot us out!”

“Can’t see!”

“Someone light a flare; do it now! Everyone else, shut up!”

Immediate silence came, then that same assertive voice echoed. “There. Up and out the window. Move! Alex, Jack, you two go first to provide cover.”

Adrian identified Seth’s voice this time.

The men began climbing out, dropping from the loft’s overhang into the thick sand. Everyone had a laugh at the sight of Adrian holding up his watch.

“That beats the last team. New record! Gather around.” Adrian lit a cigarette, noting Seth was now the center of his men. Good. “Eagle Four is due through here in thirty minutes. Your mission is to keep that team away from me. I’ll be somewhere in the house. Daryl is your hostage. He goes in the middle of the road. Set the rest of it up as you will. When the vest goes off, you’re out. Questions?”

There were none.

That’s a mistake they won’t make next time. Adrian turned to Neil. “Who took charge after the smoker?”

“Seth.”

“You’re the leader for this test. Seth is your second in command. Weapons go under the wheelbarrow. Move ’em out.”

Neil gave Adrian a glance that said he had questions, but he knew this lesson was to instruct the other men, so he didn’t ask any of them. Neil was delighted at the unexpected thought of himself as a drill instructor in Adrian’s army. That was usually Kyle or Doug’s honor.

“Let’s go, in the barn.” Neil got things rolling. “Seth, make us a plan. Alex and Jack stay on guard. One on the roof, one in a tree. Move out.”

Adrian and Kenn watched from the dust covered porch of the farmhouse as the battle plan emerged. One Eagle took cover behind the huge concrete planters to the side of the loosely bound hostage in the road. Two men stayed inside the open barn doors. Two more ducked under the dusty bushes to the left of the big shelter, with a final man lurking in the shadows of the wide, paint-chipped shed. They spread themselves into a wall of strength between the road and the gritty porch where Adrian and Kenn were standing.

“Who’ll make it through?”

“Kyle, for sure.”

“You want an extra body guard?”

“Of course. The last set of gear is for you.” Adrian handed it to him. “You’ll be in the house somewhere too, as a surprise.”

They watched the men fidget. When the faint sound of engines came, they both recognized the quiet Safe Haven setups. Adrian pointed. “I’ll be in the room above us. Have fun. And keep track of Seth. I want to know how he handles himself.”

From his second-floor vantage point, Adrian saw the lone shadow sneaking toward the house, and knew who would win.

Kyle’s invading men slid through the unharvested hayfield behind the dusty yard. They’d left the engines running for a distraction. Adrian wondered if Kenn had noticed a lone shadow coming in the rear door. Probably. Kenn didn’t miss much.

Kyle’s team eased closer. When they were in range, Billy gave a short whistle.

Daryl rolled the chair onto its side in the sand, clearing a line of fire for the level threes, who began to shoot. Vests flashed as the attack started. No one yelled or called out orders. They followed their training.

Kyle’s team mowed them all down and rescued the hostage in four minutes flat.

“Let’s go get that handshake.” Kyle led the way to the farmhouse.

Kenn opened fire from inside the front door as three of Kyle’s men approached; he got them all. He darted to another window and hit one of two men running by.

Kenn took up a defensive position a few feet from the stairs that led to Adrian; the annual paintball competition he’d won at Fort Defiance this year made his movements smooth.

Floorboards creaked to his right. Kenn shoved his gun around the corner, firing in a sweeping motion that sent blue lights flashing off gritty windows and faded gifts under a drooping tree. It lit up the house and allowed Kenn to see the shadow he’d missed. He had time to catch the deep satisfaction in Kyle’s pale eyes, and then his vest began flashing too.

Out, Kenn flipped him the finger.

Kyle smirked, easing up the stairs.

The door at the end of the long hall was open. There was only one blurred set of prints on the dusty floor. Kyle relaxed at the sight of Adrian sitting on the edge of a cluttered, cobwebbed dresser.

“Congratulations on making it by Kenn.”

“I lost half my team to do it.” Kyle grinned, entering the small room. “We won?”

“As soon as we shake on it.” Adrian held out his hand, body language full of warning.

Missing the clues, Kyle’s arm moved...

He froze as the flashing blue lights of his vest began to bounce off the walls. I’ve been shot!

Kyle searched the shadows in disbelief for his assassin. The Genovese Captain had never been beaten with just surprise used, not even by Kenn. “Who is that?!”

Seth came out of the dusty darkness, trying not to gloat. He holstered and removed the black cap that had hidden his red from Kyle’s sharp eyes. “The last man standing.”

“Excellent.” Adrian clapped as he stood. “Come on. Let’s get back to camp.”

Kyle turned to Adrian, gesturing wildly. “Was this your plan? Was he here the whole time?!”

“I came up two minutes before you did.” Seth motioned to the Marine in the doorway behind Kyle. “Kenn was the only one who knew exactly where I’d be.”

“But I saw you…”

They followed Adrian while they talked about it. When Kyle laughed at something Seth said, Adrian decided it had gone well. Both teams had learned lessons, especially Kyle’s, and they’d bonded a little. When the time came, they would have these exercises to guide them.

The men reentered camp the way they’d left, with Adrian and Kenn following more slowly.

“No one asked any questions. Big mistake. Seth’s team got lucky to win.”

“True.” Kenn was eager to help another of his picks. Zack was about to graduate to level one and he had Kenn to thank for his name being on the list. Now, all the truck driver had to do was live up to it. Slacking off wasn’t allowed. “Seth sure surprised ’em all.”

Adrian lit a smoke. “Yes, he did. Give him a level test tonight. If he passes, bump him to level four and we’ll catch him up. I always thought that team should have been ten strong. I just didn’t know who went there. Do it after dinner.”

Kenn didn’t look up from writing, glad for Seth and hating the jealous part of himself that wanted to say he’d done well against Doug. Where’s my reward?

“Who’s the MC tonight?”

Kenn gave a tight smile. “Doug said he’d give the name to you at mess.”

Adrian met his eye, feeling his man’s need, meeting it. “That’s your job now. Once an evening you’ll do rounds and collect envelopes. Organize it into something I can read quickly.”

Kenn realized he was being rewarded; his heart eased. “Sure! That’s it for the list. See you at mess?”

“You know it.”

Their radios crackled to life. “Mitch to Eagle One. Just took a call, A-Man.”

Adrian’s heart thumped. He and Kenn exchanged a look. The tone wasn’t encouraging.

Adrian keyed his mike. “Still on the air?”

“No, low battery. Said they’d call back later.”

“Copy.”

Kenn stayed at Adrian’s side as they headed to the COM truck, where Kyle and his team were now on duty.

The truck cabin reeked of whiskey. Mitch rewound the tape without saying as much as usual, able to feel Adrian’s disapproval. “This one sounds legit to me, but I just roll your waves.”

Adrian had to force himself not to grimace. Mitch Hopkins was one hell of a radioman, but he was too often loud, crude, arrogant, or intoxicated–all things Adrian and the camp had little tolerance for because it reminded them of what had been wrong with the old world. “Play.”

The fat-faced man hit the button and smirked at all the people watching, seeing him be useful to the boss.

“This is Safe Haven. We are a convoy of American Red Cross survivors who will help if we can, no matter your age, race, location, or injuries. Does anyone copy?”

There was silence after Mitch’s loud voice. Adrian could feel the alcoholic fingering the button, wanting to be done with this round of calls. Then, there was a pause where Mitch had known instinctively an answer was coming and waited instead of garbling the transmission. Definitely one of the best before, and despite his glaring flaws, probably is the best now.

“SOS, Safe Haven! We need a military escort to the nearest compound! Will pay any price!”

The words were surprisingly clear considering the thick squelches of background noise and static.

“Americans help first and ask questions later. Stand by while I get the boss.”

“Can’t. Battery’s dyin’. There must be some place taking in refugees.”

“Yeah, us.”

“But if you’re Red Cross, who do you get your orders from? Where are they?”

“Those aren’t questions for me. I just work the radio. What’s your situation?”

“Bad. People are hurt, sick. Supplies are gone, food’s low. Where are you?”

“That’s another one I won’t answer on open waves. You need to talk to the boss. Call back and we’ll get him quick, but for now, what’s your message?”

There was another long pause, and then the tired stranger answered in a voice so full of despair it made Adrian’s heart hurt.

“I’m overloaded. I can’t describe it. We need protection, and a way out to someplace safe. Tell him we’re American citizens begging for his–”

The transmission ended suddenly. Mitch shut off the tape. “Figured their battery went dead.”

“You did an excellent job. Get me right away when he calls back.”

Mitch was all shit-eating grin. “You got it, A-Man. Catch you later?”

Adrian forced himself to agree; he was glad to leave the drunk’s company.

Kenn and Adrian went to his semi. The leader climbed behind the wheel, leaving the door open. Time was running out. He could feel it threatening all he held dear, but he couldn’t ignore the call. He motioned at the glove compartment. “Find out how far to Cheyenne, and what’s between here and there.”

Kenn got the maps out as Adrian picked up the mike.

Adrian keyed the truck radio without taking the mike from the holder. “Let’s do a count, Mitch. Eagle One, here and clear.”

The count off always took a while, due to people forgetting or going in the wrong order. Adrian usually straightened them out; today he let it go, waiting.

After a full minute of not getting by number thirteen, Mitch took control. “Okay, fourteen, we know you’re ready, but thirteen goes first. Thirteen, you ready?”

“Roger that.”

“Good. We know fourteen is ready, so let’s keep going.”

“Rogetssscccfourteenssch.”

“Fourteen!” Mitch’s voice boomed over the radio. “Put your mike down! Hang it up now!”

“Roger.”

The two men shared a grin as the check in continued. Everyone knew Mitch had little patience, but now, he also had Adrian’s blessing to keep people in line.

“Three hundred miles. Laramie and Casper are the big towns.” Kenn peered at the small writing. “Damn. Only a couple of reservoirs. Not a good excuse.”

Adrian scanned the dusty Wyoming land around them as Kenn got his notebook out, shaking his head at the radio.

“Come on, twenty! Why are you calling out of order?”

“Because I’ve got too many kids in my area!”

“Did you check the passenger list?” The radio went quiet for a moment as the guards straightened out the mix up.

“Your impression?”

Kenn’s voice was flat. “The caller said protection before food or water, like we might have to fight for them.”

“Are we able to?”

“Maybe we could be.” Kenn shrugged, sounding more confident than he felt. Marines, these people were not. Most were more like shower shoes–not even a boot graduate. “Kyle’s team might be now.”

Adrian gestured. “Draw up a simple plan, with a team of a dozen.”

“We’d need more men as Eagles, a long-range communication system, full time gun classes…” Kenn’s pen started moving, copying his own words as he settled into the groove and gave Adrian exactly what he needed at that moment–signs of progress. “Wish we could locate ammo for the rifles, but we’ll make do.”

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

“Also need more practices for the camp, a drill of some kind.” Kenn glanced up suddenly. “Cheyenne is along the slavers’ path, on 25. Will the camp go?”

Adrian stared out the dirty window. He had been manipulating people all his life, but never on this scale or with these stakes. “The Eagles will. The camp would feel very unprotected while we’re gone.”

Kenn said nothing at the threat. Those words wouldn’t be used, but the message would be clear. Adrian was helping the strangers and those who were with him would agree. 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. Have people overhear the men say it’s our duty. If not for that, none of us would be safe right now. Remind them that Americans don’t refuse to do what’s right just because it’s hard.”

3

“It’s chow time, Safe Haven.”

The purplish green sky was vivid, mesmerizing. Adrian spotted people taking long looks at the mysterious beauty as he headed to dinner. There was a large crowd in and around the mess, with most people talking of the shooting contest to come or discussing Kenn’s match against Doug.

Yells and groans came from the late running football game; garbage cans of trash burned at the corners of the camp. Two warmly dressed women played guitars at the large center bonfire. It felt like early October as Adrian got his tray and took it to his full table. The smell of salt came to him, bringing flashes of an angry sea. He wondered where and how many they would be come fall.

The rookie Eagles were at a double table nearby, congratulating and welcoming Seth. The level threes were on the other side of Adrian’s center table, looking glum as they listened to the other happy voices.

When Adrian pushed his mostly finished tray aside, the others did too. “Mini meeting now.”

Notebooks and pens came out.

Adrian got busy, not lowering his voice. It was crucial to his plans that the people here thought they knew how he ran things. “Sitrep on your run.”

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

“Alpine?”

“Just like all the rest. We took pictures.”

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

Men laughed; the boasting grew loud.

Doug handed Kenn his nightly envelope with apologetic words.

Adrian was glad when Kenn accepted it as if Doug hadn’t insulted him, when clearly, he had. Things were looking up.

4

“All right, let’s get to it.” Bonfire warming his legs, Adrian stood in front of two teams of men and lifted his bottle. They were in the training area behind the workout tents. “Rookies! Congratulations on passing!”

All the men cheered, but one group was louder than the others. They all drank together.

“You are now level one Eagles. You get to pick your leader tonight. I’ll need a name before this meeting is over.” He lifted his bottle again. “Level three Eagles, congratulations on passing!”

Surprised looks and cheers came at his announcement.

Adrian shrugged at Kyle. “You made it by Kenn, and while there were mistakes, you couldn’t have won. Seth was the wild card you can’t always be ready for. I consider it a success.”

Both groups cheered this time and drank.

Adrian held up a hand as the yells lingered. “We have one more challenge tonight, a personal level test.” He gestured. “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 Americans 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 working with Kyle and his team.”

The men all cheered, glad for him.

Seth lifted a brow. “When?”

Kenn stood.

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

“That’s it?”

The newly crowned level four men groaned and snorted at Seth’s question.

Kenn waved. “Just get by me.”

His look was menacing enough to make Seth realize this wouldn’t be a give-me. Kenn had beaten Doug.

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

Kenn kicked Seth’s shoulder with the flat of his boot at the last second, sending him rolling through the grit.

Seth got to his feet, eyes on the prize. He rushed Kenn again.

The Marine used Seth’s momentum to throw him across the ring of standing and shouting men.

Seth rolled as he landed, and gained his feet. The cop rushed a third time.

Kenn planted a hard fist in his ribs. “This is for real! If you don’t want it, quit now!” Kenn didn’t take it easy on Seth even though he hoped for an ally in him.

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

Each of the level men watching him remembered their own tests, and that one moment when they too had realized they wanted it almost more than anything–because of Adrian.

Seth advanced as he circled, no longer eyeing the metal under Kenn’s feet, but keeping track of it. Seth rushed low and hard, making Kenn retreat as they shoved against each other.

Kenn delivered a vicious knee kick, then another to Seth’s ankle.

Seth fell, grunting in pain.

“Just quit. Give up!”

Seth’s face hardened.

Everyone knew he wouldn’t. The feeling of failing Adrian would never go away, not in this new life.

Seth got to his feet a fourth time. Adrian observed with real interest as fire grew in the cop’s eyes.

Seth stepped straight at Kenn, as if he meant to rush again, but instead swung a roundhouse that landed on Kenn’s jaw. The other fist came around, slamming into Kenn’s cheek.

Then, Kenn started hitting back. Seth fell to his knees in the sand while the Marine beat on his face.

Seth sank his head into Kenn’s hard gut, shoving with his legs. As they rolled, his fingers clutched at the dusty ground.

His pinky snagged the chain... When he got to his feet, the dog tags were securely in his grip.

Seth flashed them at Kenn, who was still moving in his direction. “I got ’em! It’s over.” He ducked as Kenn swung. “But I’m done. I–”

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

Seth glared at Adrian’s outstretched hand, then he moved–ducking, darting, shoving his way to the man whose life he dreamed of giving his own for.

Kenn spun him by the shoulder.

Seth punched him.

Kenn swung back, rocking the cop on his heels.

Pissed, Seth returned the hit, putting his weight into it.

Kenn did the same.

The Eagles were impressed when Seth stayed on his feet.

The two men kept swinging, trading blow for fast blow.

Adrian gave a subtle nod.

Kenn delivered a nasty hit to Seth’s forehead that knocked him down in the dirt at the leader’s feet.

When Seth’s hand rose, Adrian bent 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 splatter.

“Because?”

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

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 smirked at his fellow Eagle, but the expression on his bruising face said his words were meant for Adrian. “To prove…that I could.”

5

The radio call came in while Adrian was grinding his hard body against a willing ass, breath coming in short rasps. He pressed a quick, apologetic kiss to her neck as he stepped back and zipped up. He left without a word, marching through the blowing grit to the communication truck. He slid into the sandy seat a minute later. As he keyed the mike, 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 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 standing around the radio truck. Adrian keyed the mike. “Do any of you know Morse Code?”

“No... Wait.”

There was a few seconds of silence.

“We know it.”

Adrian signaled to Kenn.

The Marine opened his notebook and slid into the other chair.

“Get ready for a message.”

“Go ahead, Safe Haven.”

Adrian gave Kenn the mike. “Say the number five.”

Kenn tapped out Adrian’s instructions. They waited.

“Five.”

“Say the state Nevada.”

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Nevada.”

Kenn gave Adrian a nod and got ready to work.

“We will come get you, protect you, and feed you. In return, you’ll be expected to follow the rules and work.”

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

“Agreed, but everyone goes.”

Adrian’s answer was quick. “We don’t leave people behind. I have questions. Ready?”

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

Kenn took the mike and started tapping out Adrian’s instructions.

“Tell me 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 handguns. 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, with Kenn’s hand flying. Then he circled an area on the map and held it up for the boss to see.

Adrian counted quickly.

Tap tap tap tap tap…

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

Kenn counted. “Based on his calculations, they are four towns away from Cheyenne. Two and a half weeks.”

Adrian nodded, plan falling into place. He didn’t like it, but it was the only thing he could do. “Be ready from the twenty-first on. Radio silence until then, unless they see or hear of the slavers reaching Wellington. Switch to channel eighteen and say double the date I’ve given you.”

Tap tap tap tap tap…

“Forty-two.”

Adrian took the mike, hoping the slavers weren’t listening. There were 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, Safe Haven. Cheyenne, out.”

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

Kenn was confident. “We’ll be the eagles–there and gone before the snake knows what happened.”