The Survivors

1

“Are you really a Marine or do you just like being a moving target?”

Marc grinned, a bit surprised she knew he was military and what branch. Most civilians didn’t. He wondered what had given him away. “Been doing it a long time. Saw no reason to change.” Marc slowed his hands on the gun. This talk was clearly going to take a while.

“What’s your rank?”

“Sergeant.”

She stared at him. “Why only an E5?”

He was surprised again by her knowledge. He shrugged, starting to worry. Is her man military too? “I disobeyed a direct order too many times. Lost rank.”

“When did you enlist?” She hated herself for asking, but she couldn’t deny the need to know.

Marc snorted and noticed she jumped. She’d been attacked. She had every reason to be a little twitchy. “I didn’t enlist.” He tried to control the heavy sarcasm. “It was either put in my time or go to prison for statutory rape. I’ve been a jarhead for fifteen years.”

Her expression became guarded. Fifteen years. Right after we were caught in my bedroom.

“The first year was bad, but I learned not to draw fire, and I made a life. I do...did things most people can’t even imagine.”

Her lips thinned. “Sounds like you’ve enjoyed it.”

“For the most part, yes. It was good, knowing I was making a difference.” Marc tried to get her to meet his eye. “What about you, Angie? Have you been okay?”

She shrugged. “It’s had good days and bad days.”

Simple. Marc studied the bags under her dark lashes, the broken, jagged fingernails, the unhealthy pallor of her skin. Too simple. “More bad than good though, right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have called me.”

She nodded, but didn’t give details.

Guilt rolled over Marc as if she was screaming. “I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”

Angela lit a smoke, flash of annoyance streaking across her mind. Does he regret loving me or not coming back for me? “I don’t need your apology, just your help.”

Marc winced. “I will if I can. Tell me.”

She let out a deep sigh that told him he wouldn’t like any of it.

“I left some things out of the letter. Important to you and me, but it’s nothing my son needs to feel bad for.”

Marc waved a hand, understanding what she wanted. “This stays between us. My word.”

The wind gusted outside.

She flinched again.

Dog got up and began pacing in front of the door, noticing her tension, Marc assumed. It was hard to miss.

Angela blew out a thick cloud of smoke. “We’ve been living with a man named Kenny for the last fourteen years. We met at the hospital where I gave birth. He was there for rehab on his arm. I had talked my way into a job as a lab assistant, running packages between floors to pay for my medical classes. He was normal, safe, dependable. I ended up telling him everything one night on my break.” She paused, sucked in a breath. “He acted horrified that I was a single, underage mother on the run, living in a sleazy hotel, working ten-hour shifts, and spending another six hours, four days a week, in classes. He was scandalized that I had to have the hotel manager’s drunken sister and teenage daughter babysit.”

Rage was filling Marc’s heart now. “And the concerned Samaritan offered you a deal you couldn’t refuse?”

She nodded again.

The hate in her eyes left no doubt that she had been hurt. Marc braced. “What was the deal?”

“Me. I had to accept him as my…owner, until my son is nineteen.”

“Nineteen?”

Angela crushed out her butt and opened a flat black case to pull out a thick blunt. The wind howled in warning again, but neither of them noticed. “He said the extra year was his bonus for being such a good citizen. He never let me forget he was caring for someone’s bastard.”

Marc couldn’t say anything in defense. After all, it was true. “What do you need me for?” He couldn’t help the defensive tone.

Angela lit the weed, inhaled.

When she passed it, he noted how careful she was not to touch him.

“Help me get my son back.” She gestured. “Clearly, I’m not cut out for the environment.”

Marc knew it couldn’t be as easy as that. “So, just for the trip?”

Angela shuddered. “No. Kenny’s also a Marine. My son is a cadet. They’re together now, in western Utah. Kenny can be…harsh when he doesn’t get his way.”

Marc didn’t respond, mind running over what that confrontation might be like. She did want him to challenge a fellow Marine. He could, but only for the right reasons.

“When he gets like that, I can’t handle him alone. I need you to stay close once we find them, for a little while. Maybe he and I will work things out.”

Marc heard a mix of emotions in her words; doubt was the clearest. “But?”

She took the smoldering blunt back, and again, made sure they didn’t touch, drawing a deeper frown from Marc. Where’s my Angie?

“Kenny doesn’t know what a compromise is. He’s never had to before, and unless the war changed him, he’ll fight to keep what he considers his. I still owe him five years.”

Marc knew trouble when he heard it. “So, I get you there, and what? Protect you while you tell your man you don’t love him anymore?”

Angela bristled. “It was never love! We made an unfair deal, and he’s had over a decade of my life that I can’t get back! You don’t know! Kenny will be furious. He won’t care about my reasons or needs. When he finds out I want to change the terms of our deal, that maybe I want complete freedom, he’ll do whatever it takes to hold onto me. Unless he’s changed.”

“And you hope he has?” Marc didn’t want to know, and yet he needed to. When she hesitated, his heart stirred. There’s room there…

“We were a family for a long time, and if he can just stop–” Angela caught herself. “If he can compromise, I might be willing to resume our life.”

“And if he won’t?” Marc took the blunt and stubbed it out. When she met his eye again, there was no mistaking the fear, but the determination under it reminded him of the old Angie.

“I’ll grab Charlie and go north. Kenny would never expect a weak woman who speaks a little Spanish to pick Canada.”

Marc let out a frustrated sigh. She’s not telling me everything. “We could do that anyway.”

“No. I have to give him a chance to do the right thing.”

Marc frowned at her. “So, I take you there and hang around until you make up your mind, and then maybe take you north. What’s the catch?”

Angela sighed ruefully. “There’s more than one, but the biggest is Charlie doesn’t know for sure Kenny is not his father. I’ve never been able to tell him, but he’ll figure it out when we show up. Then Kenny will know. Once he realizes who you are, he’ll never agree to anything. You may have to fight for both of us.”

Marc said nothing, waiting for more details.

Angela let out a worried noise. “He’ll be madder than I’ve ever made him...and maybe it’ll come to blood.”

His frown deepened. “Surely you’re exaggerating?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not. He’ll recognize you for the threat you are and try to run you off. It’s only fair you know what you’re getting into.”

Marc felt a fresh tremor of unease at her serious tone. “Then why take the chance the boy will get caught in the crossfire? We’ll just grab him and go.”

Angela shook her head. “No, Marc. I would have been sent home; they would have taken my baby. Kenny saved me from that. We made a deal, and while I can’t keep that promise now, I at least owe him the chance to accept that things have changed and keep the family he had–just on different terms.”

Marc studied her, not liking any of it. If her man was that possessive, there was bound to be ugliness. “What you’re asking is unfair. I can’t even spend time with my son. It’s a bad deal now too.”

She stared at him. “You won’t help me?”

The crushing disappointment made him look away, sure if he held her gaze, he would give in. “I can’t be your show of force, and maybe even your attack dog just because you can’t honor an old promise and are too honest to skip out on it even after all that’s happened. I won’t challenge a fellow Marine for those reasons.”

Angela held in hot tears. “I understand. I’ll go my own way come morning… I’m sorry, Marc, for all of it.”

She laid down, trying not to cry. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him the awful truth about how bad her life had been. He had to see on his own how much she needed him.

Marc wanted to talk more. He wanted to convince her that she didn’t have to stay with someone she didn’t love, that even after all these years, he was still waiting. But he also loathed the idea of being a Jody. No real Marine let himself become the guy who stole a fellow grunt’s girl while they were away.

Marc blew out a sigh of frustration, frown growing when the small sound made her flinch again. What am I supposed to do?

Whatever she asks! his heart reproached miserably, already aching at the thought of being split from her again. His emotions insisted she was the real thing, a true damsel in distress. He went over her words and reactions repeatedly, searching for clues. What didn’t she tell me?

2

Angela jerked out of the first deep sleep she’d had since leaving Cincinnati. Weak alarm bells blared for the second time in the same night, but the mental door refused to open. She was too tired.

Marc woke the second she sat up, heart thumping at the sight of his dream woman with sleep on her.

“We have to get out of here.”

Marc began pulling on his boots, not hesitating.

The clink of his dog tag caught Angela’s attention as he stood to fasten the jeans that he’d discreetly loosened. A sexy strip of hair running from his flat, tanned stomach to his groin grabbed her next. She snatched in a surprised breath at the chill of desire. It had been a long time since she’d felt anything close to passion.

“What is it?”

Angela grabbed her blankets, sweater, the heater. “I can’t tell. Big and fast.” She hurried to the ladder, leaving the rest of her things.

Dog whined in the darkness below. Whatever it was, the wolf felt it too.

Angela climbed down, going for the door. She opened it... “Oh, my God!”

That brought Marc from gathering the rest of their things. He stopped in the doorway behind her, stunned.

Thick, orange flames twined up the porch rails of the house; the tree line was ablaze in every direction. Even the air was burning. Fat drops of rain were catching fire as they hit a burning branch or rail. It was as if the sky was on fire from the ground up; tiny sparks flew into the night like fire following gasoline. The rear of the garage was also sending up smoke, telling Marc that direction wasn’t safe either. He scanned for an escape. “Dog, heel.”

The wolf came to Marc’s side, fur up.

Angie was frozen.

Marc gave her a nudge as a thick wave of black smoke gusted over them. He noticed she cringed away from him, even in a moment of danger. “Back the way we came and stay on my ass!”

Angela hurried to her vehicle, heart thumping.

Marc kept track of her and Dog. He was glad when they were all inside. They were rolling a few seconds later, tires traveling over hot, smoldering branches and limbs that had already fallen. The smoke grew thicker, making it harder to see as they went by burning cabins and tall, flaming trees that threw showers of sparks over the vehicles.

Pop!

Pop!

Neither of them noticed bullets barely missing tires. Slugs slammed into the ground in hard, quiet thuds that couldn’t be heard over the crackling, popping rumble of the fire.

Smoke rolled across the road; flames blocked their way in places. Marc was forced to lead them in and out of trees that had become giant torches. Dead limbs fell behind them, thumping to the ground in geysers of flaming debris.

Angela’s grip on the wheel was white as she followed, neck sweaty, cheeks streaked in soot. We almost burned! Angela tried to keep her attention on his bumper sticker instead of the flames and her panic. Death! One wrong turn from death!

Marc went back the way they’d come, instinct screaming this wasn’t a natural fire.

The flames thickened.

Marc took them west as sweat poured off his neck.

Dog growled. Watch out!

The flames rose in a thick wall. He keyed the mike. “Hit the gas! We’ll go right through!”

The Blazers plunged into the fire at high speed. The heat rose to intolerable, and then they were through, coming out unharmed on the other side. The temperature was instantly cooler.

Marc took them down the next steep hill, winding into the coolness with long, bone jarring bumps. The flames hadn’t been through this brown and green terrain yet. Maybe we got out in time. Because of Angie.

He could still see the flames in their mirror, though. Marc aimed for White Creek, where animals were following the current in the creek and walking the bank. He eased the Blazer into the half foot of steadily flowing water.

Angela followed, relieved Marc had found them safety.

Marc rolled into the middle of the creek, hunting the tree line for a dirt path that he’d only been on twice. It was nearly inaccessible to anything but a bike or jeep unless the driver was skilled. It would take the fire a while to spread up that hill.

Spotting the path, he steered that way, being careful not to crush animals darting into the water for shelter. Marc keyed the mike. “Remember how we used to ride dirt bikes behind Daniel’s house?”

“Yes.”

“This is trickier. Stay a few car lengths behind and remember, an uncontrolled slide doesn’t happen unless you hit the brakes too hard.”

Angela had to grin at his tone. He was eager for the next thrill, like she’d been when they were young. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about the fun they’d had together in a long time. She hadn’t been able to deal with the crushing pain, or the anger if Kenny sensed it and reacted. It still hit her at odd times that she was now free to think about anything she wanted. “You lead, I’ll follow.”

Since when? Marc shifted gears. He felt her catch his mutter; he smiled at the feeling of the old connection. He went up the next steep hill with an easy burst of speed.

Angela counted to five before following, glad when he didn’t seem to have trouble on the dark path.

His Blazer fishtailed as it hit the top, brake lights flashing briefly before he dropped out of sight.

Heart in her throat, Angela hit the gas harder as she neared the top and tapped the brakes as she started to drop into thin air.

She saw Marc halfway up the next incline, and then she had her hands full as gravity pulled hard. She landed on a narrow path that shot downward at an awful left tilt. The Blazer slid heavily. Thick gobs of mud sprayed the trees.

Her hands worked the wheel, foot on the gas... She made the curve, shooting up the hill where Marc was disappearing.

Her Blazer slid to the right again when she made it to the top. Angela winced as she scraped branches and trees, forcing her foot away from the brake. She used loose hands on the wheel to keep the teetering vehicle on the edge of control.

Angela brought it away from the steep hill, proud of herself. She jumped as Marc’s thought came flying at her.

It gets bad from here. I’ll tell you which way to aim.

She heard him in her mind this time, catching the worry and the excitement. She was suddenly sure Marc would never let her go on alone. His sense of honor would be the excuse he gave himself, but it was really the old hunger and restless need. Her life had been in grave danger twice in the same eight hours. The Marc I grew up with would never–

Angela stopped, not ready for the pain that would come upon completing the thought. This trip would be easier on both of them if she remembered the past was gone.

3

The twins had come up, and then down, the steep mining road much more slowly than Angela and Marc. They were barely able to make the muddy, hairpin curves. As they reached the summit of the last dark, treacherous hill, Dillan pointed at two sets of brake lights disappearing into the smoky valley below. They watched for a long moment but saw nothing else.

“Still going west.”

“Meeting someone?”

Dillan shrugged. “Cesar, if she goes far enough. He’s in that area by now.”

“She won’t be able to handle all those men.”

“Neither can we. We’ll have to share.”

Dean scowled. “No.”

“Exactly. We’ll follow but hang back, let them believe we gave up. Our chance will come.”

Dean dug through his kit for two capsules, glad to be traveling in the same vehicle together again. He’d missed his brother’s warmth. “Start out again at daylight?”

“Yeah. We know which direction she’s going. We’ll camp high before dusk each night and keep track by their lights or fires. They’ll relax, and we’ll take ’em off guard.”

“We need a stronger tranquilizer.”

“And sharper knives.”

4

Angela and Marc didn’t stop until almost noon. They were both exhausted as they sat on opposite corners of their tailgates for the tuna sandwiches and coffee she’d made. Marc had gassed their vehicles while she cooked.

Dog had stayed close, not wanting to leave them alone. He spent the time sniffing Angela’s feet as she worked.

The layer of grit in the sky appeared thicker. The depressing view matched from land as well. Angela tried to avoid staring at the suburbs of identical condominiums crammed together across from the field. The windows with corpses of starved pets were hard on her. Most of the skeletons appeared to still be searching for the masters who had left them to such an awful fate.

“We have to come to some terms before we go any further together.”

A sweet smile of relief lit her tired face.

Marc sucked air into lungs that felt too small. It was no surprise he’d never gotten over her. No one else will ever hit me this hard.

Dog looked up, head tilting.

Marc saw her happiness cool and knew she was waiting to see if she could pay the price he was about to demand. “First and most important, I’ll teach you some basic defense and how to use your gun.” Marc knelt by her bumper and worked with his smaller tools kit while they talked.

Angela nodded, frowning at the notion of being close enough to him, or anyone, long enough to learn something like that. “Okay, to both.”

“Good. We’ll plan routes together and share the chores. I’ll keep my distance as best I can and still protect you.” Marc extracted the brake lightbulb and placed it in the bag with the bulbs from his vehicle. “In return, I’ll need more than an introduction. It can wait until you decide about your future, but then they’ll both have to be told. I already want to spend time with my son. That’s just going to grow for me.”

Angela frowned again. The things he wanted were reasonable, but fear beat in her heart. “Agreed. Anything else?”

“Yes.” He didn’t look at her. “I need to know things about your life. We can leave that for when you’re ready, but on the way, I’d like you to tell me about...Charlie. Everything I missed. Bedtime stories, any pictures you have?”

She gave him a cool smile. He wondered what words she hadn’t liked. All of it?

Angela gave him a cool stare. “Is that it? Good. Now, I have conditions. First and most important, we will travel every day. I’m in a hurry, and I want that clear. Second, you’re in charge, but when I say to change direction, we do it. We’ll use maps, but I’m tracking him too, and I trust me.”

To a man who hadn’t had anything but guilt and loneliness for a long time even before the war, her protectiveness was attractive. “Agreed, next?”

“Next is last. When we get there, do as I ask and abide by my choice. I don’t want violence.”

He locked eyes with her, not letting her look away. “You’ll make sure I get time with my son, even if we have to sneak?”

“Yes.” She swallowed nervously. “You’ll protect us from Kenny, even if it comes to blood?”

The open fear in her expression hurt him. “With my life, baby.” The answer fell easily despite all the years between them.

“Then I agree.”

Mindful about keeping his distance (still stinging from it) Marc didn’t put out his hand until she did.

Angela almost drew back, then placed her fingers against his.

Lightning flashed, forking into thick clouds that rolled across the sky as the lovers touched. Electricity sparked, threatening to sweep them into the past.

Marc let go. He was a man of his word.

For Angela, the silence after the crash was deafening, but she didn’t apologize for the small theft of some of his healthy energy. She was almost sure he hadn’t noticed anyway. Her gifts were something she planned to rely on now. He would have to get used to it. Kenny couldn’t. He hadn’t even been able to consider accepting her for what she was without using it for his own gain. Is Marc different? She began cleaning their lunch mess. Time will tell. “Come on, Sir Lancelot. I’d like to make another three miles by dark.”

Marc snapped a stiff salute.

Angela glanced away, not wanting him to see her disappointment. Had a tiny part of her heart been hoping that one of his conditions might be another chance with her?

She shut and locked her door, swallowing bitter pain. That was exactly what the old Angela had been hoping for.

It was a struggle not to cry as she shifted into gear.

5

They traveled until it began to get dark. The rain had finally cleared, leaving damp, reeking wind as they rolled over dead wires attached to downed poles and hundreds of trees that had their tops sheared off. It was sad and monotonous. Despite her need to hurry, Angela was glad when Marc called her on the radio. She was beat.

“Ready?”

“Yes. You pick, I’ll cook.”

“Deal. Take that first long driveway on your right.”

Angela saw the benefits of his choice as she eased up a muddy driveway full of cracks and weeds. Thick trees blocked the view on one side. A neglected cornfield did the same for the rest of the property surrounding the small farmhouse. A few of the big windows were broken, but the home appeared otherwise undamaged.

Marc drove toward the small carport, hoping there was room for two. He had expected Angie to be driving something flashy and unusable. Her seriousness about making this trip was something of a relief, as well as a worry. It spoke of someone who didn’t exaggerate.

Marc stopped as Angela eased her vehicle into the hard dirt row of corn near the carport. She snapped a surprising few of the knee-high stalks. Obviously, she’d done it a few times. Closing his mouth on the correction he had started to give, Marc waited to see what she had in mind.

Angela pulled out a rolled-up camouflage tarp and took it to the roof. When she tossed it over her Blazer, pulling on the stiff ends, the muddy vehicle disappeared. The Marine inside stirred in respect at her resourcefulness. Fresh recruits tried hard to impress him, usually without success, for the full eight weeks. She’d done it in less than a day.

“There should be room for both of us.”

The radio made him jump. She’d crawled under the tarp. “Copy.”

Angela stood on her roof, holding up the tarp for him to enter.

Marc concentrated on what he was doing instead of her long legs. He put the Blazer in park and killed the engine.

Angela stepped across his hood and jumped down. She tugged the tarp until he had to flip on his light to see.

Angela was driving thick steel pegs into the corners of the large tarp when he emerged, wearing gloves and a heavier coat.

Marc went to secure the house, Dog at his hip, but his mind stayed on the woman he could hear. She was an asset in this new world. She was strong, smart, and a possible target for every person who spotted her. That was what had stopped him from leaving. Marc was almost sure the fire had been set. He’d found damage on the corner of his tailgate that could be the trim from a bullet. The brothers had tried to fry her in her sleep. When she’d woken too soon, they had started shooting. The smoke had ruined their aim and saved Angela’s life. Amid the cracking tree branches and roar of the flames, Marc hadn’t even known they were under attack. She wouldn’t stand a chance without him; he had loved her too much to let her go on this suicide mission unprotected.

They would stay on side roads and be careful with shooting lessons that might draw attention. One glimpse of her and we’ll be under attack again. Everything else in this new world is so ugly, people need beauty in any form. Then they’ll crush it under obsessive care. I won’t let that happen to her.

6

“You don’t wear any insignia.” Angela couldn’t take any more of the silence. “What branch of the Marines were you in?”

They were settled in bedrolls on the floor, eating and trying not to stare at each other. Dog was curled up out of sight. Angela didn’t know exactly where, but it was still a comfort.

Marc was still dwelling on her story of finding fresh meat in the basement of a lavish home she’d passed in Edinburgh. Drawn by lights in the windows, she’d found a generator running. There had obviously been people there recently, but she hadn’t run into anyone while exploring the big house. What courage that must have taken!

“Marc?”

He replayed her words. “The one with no name.”

His answer drew a frown. Kenny had said the same thing a few years ago when she’d asked about his advancement. She sighed, staring at the bedroll between her and the doorway as the wind howled. Kenny was going be so pissed she couldn’t even predict what he might do. Is Marc equal to that? “Like The Unit?”

Marc snorted. “You watched that BS?”

“Every Tuesday, no matter what.”

Her bitter tone made his smile fade. He sensed she wanted to ask if he was that good. He admired her control when she didn’t. “Yes, I am.”

Angela met his eye. “Honestly?”

He nodded, not quite thinking about the harshest things he’d done.

Angela felt the darkness on his soul; it comforted her. “Him too. He’s got six years in now.”

Marc’s expression became shuttered. “Most men don’t do it that long. It’s dangerous work.”

“How long for you?”

“Eight. I had my own team.”

Angela heard his pain over the personal loss, but she couldn’t bring herself to mouth the pleasantries the old world would have required. He was mourning a great life. She’d barely had one to lose. She had clung to her sons and now, one was rotting in the ground and the other was lost in the wilderness.

Belly content for the first time in a while, Marc flipped through the pictures she’d set by his plate. He was glad she hadn’t pushed him on why he stayed in the service. The question required trust, and they didn’t have any. Time to start building some. “Why didn’t you call me, Angie? I would have taken responsibility.”

She pushed away her half-finished burger and corn. “I wanted more then. I wanted all of you or nothing.” She lit a smoke. “They wouldn’t have left us alone anyway and you know it. Between their religious crap, and your shame, we didn’t stand a chance.”

“Didn’t I deserve a say in that choice?”

Angela took the cigarette from her mouth with shaky hands she knew he saw. There was probably little he didn’t notice. “We both deserved to be happy, but it was taken away. I found out about the baby, and I was alone. I made hard choices that were wrong sometimes, but we’ve always been together, and no one has ever told him he’s going to hell because of our sins against God.”

Marc winced, fading back in time to the confrontation with his mother.

“She’s your family! How could you?!”

“Not by blood!”

Slap! “By God!”

Angela sighed. “That was a long time ago.”

“Yep. A lot of hurt between then and now.”

“We made our choices. What’s done is done.” She yawned and stood, surprised to discover his misery didn’t please her. She really did owe him much worse for the way he’d abandoned her. She strode toward the door, pulling on her sweater.

When he followed, Angela felt better that he was taking her request for protection seriously. “Where all have you been since the war?” She went to her Blazer.

Her waist was so small he could span it with both hands. Marc shoved them into his pockets instead, remembering a time when he’d been free to do that and a lot more. “I was in Virginia when the bombs fell, going to the new family house for a funeral.”

She tensed. “Whose?”

“Mother.”

Angela started to offer sympathy.

Marc waved a hand. “Don’t bother. I went home to bury the past, not her. She’s been dead to me for a long time.” He lit a smoke, casual tone not changing. “After Roanoke, I traveled northeast for a couple weeks, but it was all worse. There were already mutations in West Virginia. After that, I changed directions. I’ve been to about twenty big bases, offices, centers. There’s nothing.”

Hearing it only made Angela a bit sadder. That world was gone; eventually they would all stop expecting its return. Angela got another duffle bag from the rear seat and disappeared behind a tree, liking it when Marc waved the wolf after her. This was why she needed him. He would teach her to be strong and protect her while she learned.

What happens when he runs out of things to teach? the witch asked ominously.

Angela wasn’t in any state to search that far ahead. She didn’t answer.

They went into the tepid warmth of the faded, drafty farmhouse a minute later, both avoiding looking at the happy profiles of the family who had lived here. Pictures smiled at them from all the walls.

“How much gas do you have?” Marc pushed the heater closer to the window so the draft would carry warmth farther into the room.

“Only quarter of a tank, but I have two five-gallon cans in the rear.”

“Great. I’ve got about the same. We should be okay for a few days.” Marc spent a minute at the window, scanning the landscape around their vehicles. He had chosen this room because it was the closest one to their wheels that had a window for a quick escape. Marc wondered if he should point it out to her. How much does she want to learn while we travel?

Angela wondered if his home had included a wife. The pain was staggering.

“So, he’s a HAC-RAM?”

Angela smiled.

Marc stared. Enough of those happy looks could blind a man from even noticing other women. He knew.

“He has been for three years. Have a Child, Raise a Marine, was one of Kenny’s better ideas. They were in Arizona, at an annual competition when the war came. They usually bring home a box of trophies. From the outside, he’s the perfect dad.” Angela settled on the couch.

Marc forced his mouth shut. He was going slow to avoid missing clues, but he was already picking out things that bothered him. The jumpiness and hand flinching toward her gun at every sound could be attributed to her being attacked, but she also hesitated to walk close or look him in the eye. No physical contact was a given, but her cold reaction to his hug had been unexpected, uncalled for. What did she go–

“Where’d you get the wolf?”

“Dog?” Marc smiled awkwardly, not sure how much of his thoughts she was picking up. “He was part of a pack before we met up. Rangers caught him after a kid was taken.”

“They were going to put him down?”

“Yeah. My buddy had a farm. Dog settled in and we made friends.”

“He obeys well for being mostly wild. It’s good you didn’t take that from him.”

Marc lit a smoke. Most people didn’t realize that when they heard the story. “I only changed him where I had to. He went on base with me, on missions a few times. It saved my ass more than once to have him along.”

“It sounds like you’ve lived the ideal bachelor’s life.” Angela hated herself for being too weak to resist probing.

Marc didn’t hesitate. “There was never anyone serious for me after you. You’re a tough act to follow.”

The old Angela did enjoy his pain this time. She slapped at him with sharp claws not quite fully extended. “Hell, Marc. You could have had a supermodel. I never figured you for a swinging single.”

Marc shrugged, mind screaming ambush at her accusing tone. “I wasn’t that either. Too many strange ones out there. I had one fast date with a girl who had a nose ring and three-inch purple fingernails. Strange.”

Angela opened her mouth before she could censor the words and was appalled by the jealousy that spewed out. “Did she have long black curls and pale white skin like all the others? Did you see my face when you exploded in her?”

Marc sucked in a breath.

Angela scrambled up to put distance between them. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe I said that.”

“After everything you’ve been through, I guess you owe me a few.” Marc stood too, reeling from the blow that she already knew he wasn’t over her. He frowned when he caught her flinch.

Angela tensed. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

The fear was unmistakable. Marc put his back to her so she couldn’t see his rage. She is afraid of me, terrified. “Better to let it out, honey. The sooner we clear the air, the sooner you’ll trust me again.”

“But I do!”

Marc moved toward the door, subtly watching her expression. He recognized her relief when he went by without punishing her.

“I called you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t want to.” He forced the words out. “And you don’t trust me. It’s a problem we’ll have to work on.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m fine.” Angela was afraid he was about to leave her here.

“Then why do you almost go for your gun every time I move?” He watched her slide trembling hands into her pockets. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Marc waved at the wolf. “Stay. Guard her.”

The animal sat down by her feet.

Marc shut the door, leaving Angela relieved, confused, and sorry that she hadn’t hidden her feelings.

Marc walked the perimeter, furious. Angie’s scared, and not that childish shit women do over mice and spiders. It was real fear of being hurt. He loathed the people who had taught her that. He was hoping her life hadn’t been as bad as observing her implied, but every minute they spent together said it had. The fear she was carrying wasn’t from being attacked just since she’d left Ohio. It wasn’t new. She was honestly terrified of men and that only came from being hurt by one.

What if she has been abused by her man? What if he is as violent as she’s implying?

“Then I’ll fight for her.” Marc thought he’d probably end up doing that anyway.

But only if she chooses not to honor their relationship. His conscience threw in the condition, but Marc lashed out in bitter anger.

“To hell with her relationship! She was mine first!”

Angela emerged from the house as he came up the steps, swallowed by her bigger coat and hat this time. Dog stayed next to her.

Sweet vanilla filled his nose as they passed. Marc gritted his teeth to keep from reaching out. I’ve missed her so much!

Angela heard him as if he’d spoken. She forced herself to stop as the stiff wind blew her curls around. Marc was doing her a great service. She didn’t want him to be upset. “It wasn’t meant to be, but we’ll be friends again, in time. That’s something, right?”

Marc wanted to say she was wrong; they had been soul mates. “You’ll be safe with me,” came out instead.

Marc was glad he’d reassured her when she flashed an honest smile.

“I know it deep down, but...” Angela shrugged, not wanting to expect more than he was willing to give.

Marc understood. “But it helps you to hear it, and you’ll probably need me to do it again.”

She flushed, brows drawing together. He recognized her needs so quickly. Why couldn’t Kenny have been half the man Marc is? She went to the Blazer, aware of him like she’d known she would be. Some things never change.

7

When Angela stepped out of the Blazer, she found the wolf sitting on the porch. “Hi, Dog. We haven’t been properly introduced yet. I’m Angie.”

The big animal resignedly held up a paw. We’ve met.

Marc grinned as Angela’s laughter rang out. She bent to shake without hesitation. Even most Marines were too leery. He observed from the impenetrable darkness of the doorway, heart thumping when she pulled her clothes to the side to adjust a lacy, white bra strap. The desire changed as his gaze went to the jagged knife scar on her shoulder. It was rough, ugly, and out of place on her pale skin.

A hard knot formed in Marc’s gut as his mind played a video of her being held down, struggling and screaming, while someone carved what could be a grotesque letter K into her flesh. Isn’t her man’s name Kenny?

There were a lot of possibilities, like a car wreck, shrapnel, falling on something, bobbing when she should have weaved, and still, he knew what he knew. Marc went back to their den, counting the ways he would make her man pay if he was the one responsible.

Five minutes later, Angela still hadn’t come in.

Marc went back out, though Dog was guarding her. He didn’t like the lack of noise.

Angie was in the darkest corner of the porch. If not for the sound of her pen scratching on the paper, Marc would have missed her. How can she write in total darkness?

“Something about the way my vision works. What’s the temperature?”

Using his lighter, Marc checked the small stick-on disc she had put there earlier. “Either thirty or twenty-eight. Can’t tell which.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” He lit a smoke, staring into the thick shadows around them. “I need to ask you something.”

Angela shut her notebook. “Shoot.”

“Was calling me just a way to make him realize you don’t need him, so you can get what you want? Are you using me against him?”

Angela flipped on her penlight as she stepped toward the rail. “Not in the way you’re thinking. He isn’t coming back for me, but he intends to keep my son.”

“Why doesn’t he want you anymore?”

Fathomless grief flashed out. Marc drew in a sharp breath at the pain he read. Something awful had caused it, something she wasn’t going to tell him yet.

“I’m a burden.”

He scowled. “You’ve done well.”

“I was never allowed to be this person before.” Angela stared at him. The bags under her eyes were almost like bruises. “He heard the calls too; he knows I’m on my way. He doesn’t expect me to bring help that he can’t handle, so yes, I am using you, but only in the ways you’ve agreed to.”

Marc knew from her tone she wanted to be done with this topic for now. He pointed at the small black discs he’d set out. “Those are motion alarms.” He picked up a rock and a stick and tossed them in different directions. Two tones chimed from his wristband.

Marc hit a button to give them silence, holding his arm up for her to see the sequence.

Angela controlled her flinch.

“Different sound for each breach tells how many intruders. Red button shuts it off; green arms it.”

“You learn that in the Corps?”

He smiled. “Along with a few other things.”

“Like what?”

“Survival stuff mostly. It’ll come in handier now, I suspect.”

He sounded wide awake. Angela frowned. “Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m a Marine, honey. This is par for the course.” Marc didn’t say he’d only gotten a short snooze before their escape from the fire. His mind had been too busy racing to sleep. He had taken a pep pill after lunch.

They were both quiet for a minute, scanning, listening. There were no lights or noises in the cold darkness around them, no insects or rodents in the brush. Angela shivered. The world was dying. Would they too? Shaking off the morbidity, Angela followed Marc into the warmth of their den. When he took off his coat, thick arms flexing, her gaze was drawn to his muscular body.

“I grew up, didn’t I?” He grinned, hoping for a laugh.

“Yes.” Angela slid into her blankets. It was all going to be much harder than she’d expected. She tossed the black case toward his feet, observing for anger in case the throw made him jump. “Light the big one, will ya?”

Marc leaned against an end table as he fired it up. His gun belts were under his pillow, boots nearby. Sweet smoke curled around them.

Marc hated the tension, but it was a step up from what Angela had lived each day.

“In the mornings before we leave, I’ll start showing you how to use that gun.” He tried not to gawk. She was unbraiding long curls he longed to touch.

“Okay. Will you tell me about some of your missions another night?” She smothered a yawn, watching the wolf pick a bed under a dusty cabinet.

Marc frowned. “You mean the places I’ve come through since the war?”

“No, your time in the Corps.”

“Okay. Pick a city, state, or country.”

“New Orleans.”

Marc tensed. “Before or after Katrina?”

Angela heard the change in tone. “During.”

“Okay.”

She shivered at a strong draft.

Marc pushed the heater closer to her with his foot, aware of the spark between them trying to flare up.

So was Angela. She tried another topic. “What’s the first thing I should know about guns?”

“Don’t have one if you don’t know how to use it.”

Angela understood the answer had been drilled into him, but she found his tone smug. “The second?”

“When it’s life or death, like now, rule one means shit.”

She gave a tiny smile, head starting to thump. “What will you do with me first?”

His eyes went to her mouth. Marc dropped them to the floor; wind howled through the dead cornstalks around the farmhouse. “We’ll work on target practice for a few minutes before we leave each morning. We’re not as likely to be tracked by the noise.”

“That’s smart.”

He stifled a groan of relief as he laid on his side, facing her. “Won’t matter if someone’s nearby.” He stared at the ebony curls now resting on the blankets. Would her hair still feel like silk against my skin?

Angela’s nostrils flared, as if she had smelled the thought. The fear on her face made him roll onto his back. Marc didn’t want this moment to end. He was enjoying the buzz, the heat on his feet, and most of all, the sight, smell, and sounds of Angela invading his senses. She too had grown up.

Yes, I have. Angela eased down as mild stomach cramps continued. Enough to not encourage what I’ll never be free to give.

“Night, honey. See you in the morning.”

The old saying reached that cold, dark place in her heart with a single, beautiful, fiery blast of heat. “Yes, you will.” The old, familiar, hurtful response came from her lips as if no years had gone by. It was hard not to let the tears escape. Marc was here, but every wall that had stood between them before was still up, only they were twice as tall. It would be a long time before they were even friends again.

Marc laid with his hands under his neck until her even breathing told him she was asleep. Then he eased back onto his side, letting his eyes go where they wanted. How am I going to do this?

Fifteen years had gone by, but Marc had never put her out of his heart. He would never make it a thousand miles without telling her the truth. I came for another chance at our love. This pain has been unbearable. I’ll agree to any deal you offer.