The Survivors

1

Angela hesitated outside Adrian’s open tent flap, hating how it made her feel to have eyes on her constantly. Her words and clothes fit in, but she didn’t, and they knew it. It was in the wary, hesitant interactions. She wasn’t adjusting well. I don’t know how long I’ll–

“Should I come out there?”

Angela flushed. “No, sorry.”

She ducked into the scent of musky cologne, struck again by how neat Adrian always kept his tent. She wondered what it was about the aligned dimes, nickels and quarters that had bothered Marc so much. She’d caught a flash from him as he left Adrian’s table. He didn’t trust the blond man. The coins had something to do with that, but she wasn’t sure what.

Adrian knelt by the cooler as she examined his home. She could have been a model, even with the heavy bags under her eyes. “Have a seat.” He brought two tin cups and a red thermos to the table.

“Thanks. What are we drinking?”

He handed her a sweaty green can and a paper towel as he joined her. He had a small brown box in his other hand.

Angela took the pop eagerly. She hadn’t had cold Mountain Dew in over four months.

“It doesn’t have a name. Rum, rehydrated berries, bananas, sugar–stuff like that.”

People moved by in the cloudy afternoon, gawking at them through the open flap. Angela guessed he didn’t smoke with camp members…or maybe just not the women? Angela took a swig, enjoying the caffeine-riddled soda. It was her favorite.

“You’re off duty now?”

“Yes. John’s good. Nice. Anne is too.” Angela shifted as loud whispers about her and Marc floated through the flap. She adjusted her sweater to cover her unease. Let them talk. What do I care?

“They’ll appreciate the help.”

Angela hid a frown as people spotted Adrian rolling a joint and the whispers grew louder. What do they care anyway? Just jealous they aren’t in here instead of me? “He has me doing his notes right now, catching up on the issues here.”

Adrian smiled. “And making sure you know what you say you do, before he lets you near his patients?”

“Yes. He likes to throw trick questions.”

“He won’t test you long. A month from now, you’ll want the paperwork back again.”

Angela shrugged, wondering if she would be here then.

“I can tell you why you’re here.”

That got her full attention and a frown. “We’ve been through this.”

“I mean on the planet. Why you’re so different, and why you survived.”

Angela bit her tongue on the sarcastic remark that came to mind. Her mood was still rough.

“You would be welcome here anyway because of your medical skills, but there’s so much more you can do. You’re like me, and like the Eagles. You’re a Runner.”

“A runner?”

Adrian finished rolling while he explained. “Little kids are told not to judge on wealth or looks, that the inside is what matters, but they don’t understand and why should they? It’s confusing. They should be told there are three types of people they can model themselves after–those who Sit, those who Stand, and those who Run.”

The words carried a ring of powerful magic. Adrian let it linger. He hit the joint and passed it, noticing how careful she was not to touch him at all during the exchange.

“Sit, stand, or run?” Angela inhaled, mind working his riddle.

“Yes.” Adrian’s eyes darkened as he spoke. “Those who Sit are society’s burdens. They’re mostly uneducated and shiftless, with no ambition. They don’t give a damn about the greater good. They serve themselves, or worse, no one at all. They won’t even try to make it on their own. The old world took care of them at everyone else’s expense.”

He poured them both a cup of the reddish liquid from the thermos, impressed with the hit she drew into her lungs before passing the joint back. She was obviously a smoker. “Those who Stand are the workers. They fight hard for what they have, but few ever reach independence. They trudge back and forth their entire lives and keep the world turning just by showing up. These are the drivers, the servers, the doers.”

Angela could tell how much he believed in what he was saying. Her stomach tightened as he opened his mouth to continue, but she wasn’t sure why.

“Then, we have the Runners. The literal one in a million who survive whatever fate throws at them. Tolerating the world, and often unaware of how important their roles are, these are the tortured, the mocked, the exiled. They are feared, abused, persecuted, and they still push on. Runners uncover, discover, question, lead, create, challenge, and no matter the pressure or threat, there is a part of them that won’t fit in. It won’t allow them to conform or bend just because someone says to. This camp is full of Standers, thankfully, along with a sizable number of sitters, but there are also a dozen Runners here now, all gathered in the same place. The odds on so many one-in-a-million people all finding each other within four months of a war are astronomical.” Adrian delivered the rest of the speech he’d spent months waiting to give to someone like her. “We were born into this time and place to help our people, to save our country, our way of life. We have to get them to a place where they can Sit and Stand in safety. That’s why you’re different. That’s why you’re here.”

Angela was speechless, mind slamming it into place with a fit that was perfect. When it turned and fastened into an airtight seal, a wave of completeness rolled over her and sank in. All those years she’d hidden, questioned, been through hell, and Adrian had been able to solve that mystery in just three days.

Adrian actually felt the instant her loyalty shifted to include him and his dreams; a heavy weight slid from his overloaded shoulders. The one he needed most was here. She would take his place when the truth came out.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Adrian soaked up the sense of partnership that filled the tent. “Help me. There’s so much we need, I don’t know where to begin.”

Angela was sold. “I’ll give whatever you need.”

Adrian held out the smoking roach. “Always read the fine print. It’s a hard job, and our survival will eventually come down to blood. You learned that on your way here...”

Angela blanched, shaking her head at both his words and the pungent weed. “I won’t do that again. Ever.”

“You may not have to.” Adrian wanted to know what mistake Marc had made with her so it wouldn’t be repeated here, but he didn’t ask. “Killing is my job.”

She didn’t like that. Her voice was sharp. “And mine?”

“Look, listen. If it’s broken, show me how to fix it. If it’s coming, warn me in time to deal with it. Advise me. Be my Merlin, and together we’ll save our people.”

She stared at him for a long moment, breathing shallow.

Adrian felt the air thicken around them.

And if we can give you none of what you ask for?

Adrian spoke directly to her witch for the first time. “That’s an unfair question. I already know you can.”

This is not a deal to be made lightly. She paused. There is always a price. The tremor of greed was easy to hear.

Adrian didn’t care about the cost. “I’ll give them everything I have. As long as they survive, there’s no price I won’t pay.”

Your secret!Tell me what you’ve hidden from your herd.

Adrian froze as his father’s face slammed into his mind.

Angela’s gasp floated through the tent. His father was Robert Milton… He was the terrorist! He destroyed the world!

Adrian waited for her to call the others or at least yell, but there was only a heavy silence that he unwillingly broke. “When will you tell them?”

Angela stared back with a devotion that stunned him.

“Never. You’ve given me a terrible, powerful knowledge. I’ll guard it with my life, so it doesn’t take yours.”

Adrian allowed himself to breathe. “Kenn be damned. Your place with me is set.”

2

“She’s a whore, like Tonya! Anyone can have her!”

The boy’s voice was cruel. Angela quickened her pace. She had just left Adrian’s tent and caught a wave of ugliness she recognized.

Thud! “Don’t ever talk about my mom like that!”

Angela rounded the corner to discover her gentle son standing over a much larger teenager. The would-be bully was bleeding from his nose.

Angela stopped, watching. She had been filled with peace upon leaving Adrian’s tent, but that was gone now.

“You hear me?” Charlie leaned down and grabbed the older boy by the front of his shirt; he delivered a harsh shake that rattled the handsome boy and sent red drops flying. “You want me to hit you again?”

The bleeding teenager shook his head.

Charlie shoved Eric down as he let go. “Then keep your fucking gob shut!”

“What the hell’s going on here?!” Zack was furious at finding his son on the ground, bleeding.

Angela stepped around the corner, but she didn’t say anything yet. She wouldn’t interfere unless she had to.

“He hit me, dad!” Eric held up a hand with blood on it.

When Zack went for Charlie without asking why, Angela drew her gun. “I wouldn’t do that.”

Zack spun, startled.

Angela lifted a brow as his hand inched toward his own weapon. “You going to shoot me in front of all these witnesses? I understand why Kenn chose you.”

The lifelong woman-hater glared, aware of the wolf snarling at her side. “You better control your boy!”

Angela shrugged, eyes like flint as people stopped and stared. “Looks like he’s already got it under control. Maybe your boy should be careful about what he says.” She motioned toward her shocked son. “Come on, Charlie.”

Charlie’s face clouded over. “I don’t need your protection! I can take care of myself!”

To her surprise and embarrassment, the teenager had flipped on her. “Fine.” Angela holstered, aware of tense guards moving closer. She looked at Zack. “As you were. Maybe a good punch in the mouth will fix the problem.”

She left them all staring, heart breaking. How can he treat me this way? I almost died coming for him. Doesn’t that matter at all?

“He’s just a kid, honey. He doesn’t understand.”

Angela turned to see Marc walking a few feet behind her. “Are you following me?”

“No.” Marc was happy to be getting a second to talk, though. “Just heard the same thing you did.”

“And see?”

“Yeah, you two are definitely related.” He grinned. “Zack didn’t like having a woman point a gun at him.”

Angela didn’t respond to his attempt to distract her. This was hard on them both, worse than she’d expected. She moved away from Marc, knowing the more they were seen together, the harder things would be for him.

Marc let her go, aware of an Eagle trailing her. He didn’t agree with everything Adrian had going on here, but he did on that. Angie needed a guard right now. Not for her defense, but for the camp’s. Zack had no idea how much she had wanted to shoot first and ask questions later, but Marc had read it.

He strode toward the showers with an uneasy heart. Something was happening with her, another change, and he was too far away to be sure what it was or what it meant for their future.

3

Kenn was the man on point today, which gave him a great excuse to go wherever he wanted. He’d trailed Angela from a distance all day. Now he was as confused as he was angry. She’s so different!

The Angie he’d ruled for so long could never have bluffed an Eagle; she wouldn’t have thought about pulling a gun, let alone be able to do it with such menace. Kenn recognized it now that he had seen it from a distance. She would have pulled the trigger on both him and Zack. Judging from her reactions, she already had at some point.

His Angie had killed someone. That was partly responsible for his confusion. The respect he felt over that was new and unfamiliar. Kenn wasn’t sure what to do with such a foreign emotion when it came to his timid little woman. He also had a distracted feeling of pride when he thought about how well Charlie had handled himself. Kenn had called Zack when he saw the man’s sixteen-year-old son slam Charlie against the wall of the showers. Like Angela, he’d also felt the intent in Zach’s reaction, and that added another layer of confusion. Now I’m feeling protective of her and Charlie? When did that happen?

Kenn sent his relief on his way as the sun began to sink. He wasn’t done evaluating, sorting, planning. When he was, he would do something that would either get him banished or forgiven. He wasn’t sure yet which way he would go.

4

Angela stomped toward Adrian’s secret base, furious at Kenn for running his mouth and causing everything to be so much harder. Will I be let in without Adrian as an escort?

Only one way to know. Angela met the eye of the nearest guard. She gestured toward the training area, then lifted a brow.

She was surprised by the instant permission. Did Adrian tell them I might come by?

Maybe, but he wouldn’t want anyone else to know about it, she was suddenly sure of that. Angela headed for the defense area next to the training zone, feeling the cute guard’s confused eyes stay on her.

She found the hay ring empty. After a quick glance to be sure none of the camp was observing, she ducked behind a big tree. Angela then moved into the training area without being seen.

She heard the faint crackle of a radio and knew those inside had just been told she was coming. She recalled the vigilance Adrian had spoken of on her first day here.

You do need a workout...

Angela agreed with the witch. The skills Marc had taught her were basic, but she still needed to practice them. After three straight days of no use, she suddenly felt like she was starving for this. Being able to sneak up on Adrian’s army would be a good challenge for her nerves.

Angela looked back at the guard who had given her permission.

After a minute of consideration, and another to reassure himself that he had indeed heard her soft voice in his mind, Billy was positive Adrian would love the idea. Their leader had spoken to him last night about her…differences. The easygoing limo owner couldn’t wait to find out if she was worthy of the respect he had heard in Adrian’s voice.

Billy waved her in. He doubted she could infiltrate the base, but he hoped for it anyway, just so Adrian wouldn’t be disappointed.

Angela delivered a genuine grin and got moving.

Billy forgot how to breathe and almost passed out before he remembered how.

The training tent was full of alert male shadows. Angela chose a tall tree by the left side of the canvas, where the thick trunk was wrapped in strong elastic ties. She climbed it slowly to prevent the vinyl walls from vibrating. She had no doubt it was one of the things Adrian covered with his men, considering they spent most of their time under canvas.

The three guards who were able to see her were perimeter men. The level four Eagles were curious and doubtful. All of them had done something similar on their last test, but this was a woman trying to infiltrate.

Angela shimmied up the tree without alerting anyone.

It was a confirmation of Adrian’s words, and also a turn-on. Even when she made a big mistake, the guards kept rooting for her.

Angela used her knife to slit a tiny hole in the tent to peer through. So far, so good. The men were no longer working; they were all watching the doorway, waiting for her arrival with sweaty towels and curious faces. None of them winced like she did at a sudden loud static whine from too many radios being on in the same place.

“The Eagle who finds the spy is invited to sit at my table for evening chow.”

Adrian’s transmission on their private channel caused a flurry of activity as men grabbed their gear and rushed outside.

Angela used the witch to dim herself, not wanting it to be over yet. It was just an illusion though. She wondered who might be able to see her anyway.

Adrian’s voice in her head came a second later.

They’ll spot your shadow.

Angela frowned at her oversight, hearing the patrol they had formed coming around to her side of the tent. She’d forgotten about the sun. She wasn’t used to having to include it in her plans.

Angela slit a larger hole over the one she’d made and dove through just as the patrol rounded the corner. She rolled to her feet in the empty tent and slid her blade into her boot before smoothing her clothes back into place. As she moved toward the flap, Adrian’s happiness washed over her like water on burning feet, soothing her.

Beautiful. That’s on the infiltration test. These guys don’t usually do that until around level four. Well done.

Angela stepped to the open flap, letting that feeling of approval soak in. Regular doses of it would be good for her. What are the chances Adrian will let a woman into his army?

“So, who’s sitting at my table tonight?” Adrian grinned at the still-searching patrol as he joined them.

Angela emerged. “Me.”

The men turned in shock to find her by the flap.

“Again, some other time, just to be sure you’ve got it right?” Adrian’s voice dripped happiness.

“Absolutely!” Angela flashed a smile at the stunned guards around them. “Thank you. I needed this.”

Angela walked into the woods, going back the way she’d come so any camp members would see her emerge from where she’d disappeared. They weren’t supposed to know she’d been in the off-limits area.

The shock she left in her wake only lasted a brief time as Adrian began to speak.

When Kenn dropped by a few minutes later, hoping to find out what she’d been doing in the training area and why he hadn’t been called, he found them all strangely smug, even his boss. Like they knew something he didn’t. What did Angie tell them…? Do for them?

5

“Fate thinks hard on you.”

Angela’s words caused silence to fall among his joking men.

She met Adrian’s eye across the suddenly tense center table.

Dog rose to his feet, head cocked to the side as if he too had sensed it.

“Something comes.”

An instant later, the entire evening mess of one hundred went from loud and good humored to silent. The sound of feet running through the evening dimness was always bad news.

The fog parted to reveal Matt flying toward them. Startled people moved aside as the teenager found Adrian.

“There’s a call… Dad says to come quick!”

Adrian did. He would be pissed at Mitch for scaring everyone if this was a false alarm, but he already knew it wasn’t by the fear on Matt’s face. First contact with the enemy was about to be made.

Adrian didn’t feel the chill in the darkness as he moved to the communications truck.

Mitch started talking as soon as Adrian was close enough to hear. “It’s the slavers–said they have news about the group of men who left us today.”

The radio crackled. “I am tired of this waiting. Who speaks for you?”

Adrian instantly hated that voice.

Mitch saw Adrian and Kenn exchange a dangerous glance. He tossed an arm around Matt’s neck. “We’re on dinner break. If people ask, and they will, say it sounds like a bad joke. Adrian is handling it. Nothing else.”

Adrian nodded at him, climbing into the seat.

Kenn got in too; neither of them bothered to shut the doors. Many of the camp members carried scanners on their belts and a large number of guards had followed them from the mess.

“This is Eagle. Go ahead with your message.”

There was an amused chuckle. “Here’s my message, gringo. I have your men. To get them back, you will swear your allegiance to me and send out half your women and supplies. Tonight.”

“Get off this channel!” Adrian’s response was sharp, commanding. “I’m expecting a call.”

A stunned silence fell as Kenn and the rest of those listening worried over him handling it that way, but not Adrian. He knew a bluff when he heard one.

More laughter floated through the radio, backdropped by the roar of a camp that was clearly bigger than Safe Haven.

“Ahh, a hardass, but you care for them, I know. Send out the females first.”

Adrian made no reply, waiting, judging.

The radio lit up again, carrying an edge of frustration in the killer’s voice that muted the screams and voices bleeding through the transmission. “I will hurt them! I’ll cut them up and make you listen!”

Adrian keyed the mike. “Be careful, Cesar, or your people just might be the ones conquered. We’re not an easy target.”

“I’ll never back off!” The slaver was caught off guard at the open use of his name. “I will have the witch! You will not stop me when I come for her!”

The radio went dead.

Kenn turned expectantly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing.”

“But what about our–”

“He doesn’t have them. They’re listening, though.”

Kenn’s eyes narrowed as a short Morse Code message lit up the other radios, telling them Kyle and Neil’s team were fine and almost to their destination. Kenn hadn’t known Adrian was doing private lessons with the Eagles too. I thought I was involved in everything he has going on. “How did you know?”

“Because they’re well-trained. They don’t give name and rank–they lie, the entire time, about everything. If that evil bastard had even one of our guys, he would be demanding we hand over the dozen Mexican royals we’re holding hostage, or the location of the fuel tankers we hid. But he didn’t.”

Kenn’s lips thinned. “Instead, he wants the witch. Angela.”

Adrian frowned. “Send her to my tent early. She either had contact with them on the way here, or someone in this camp is a traitor.”

Kenn nodded, wondering if his boss now wished Angela hadn’t come. The slavers had followed her. They were all in danger.

Adrian caught the thought. “She has every right to be here. I know you don’t like it, but these people need her. I need her. We can’t keep doing it all alone, but more than that, she’s as much the reason we’re here as anyone else in Safe Haven.”

“The slavers won’t stop until they get her.”

Adrian’s fury boiled over. “I’ll die first. You’d better get on board with that at least or just resign now!” Adrian turned toward his tense people. “Stay here until Mitch comes back. I’ll be singing to the herd.”

6

Rick blew out the flame on his lantern and laid down, heart thumping despite the simple chore he was about to perform. The security here was extreme and no one trusted him.

Rick eased out of his bedroll; he had been told to put his drafty tent where the bonfire would reflect his shadows. He was forced to crawl so the other tent shadows would cover his movements. He tensed each time footsteps crunched or voices rang out.

It only took a minute with his knife, two minutes with a spoon lifted from the mess, and another sixty seconds to place the plastic-wrapped beeper into the ground and cover it. He repaired the small hole in the tent floor with dark green tape, then pushed the dirt crumbs into a small pile under his bedroll. He’d buried two letters with the remote. One of them was his Dear John from Samantha. He’d also added his schedule with the next day’s travel route marked on it. Cesar would only have to hit the button on his locator to detect which bare spot had been his.

With the chore complete, Rick laid back down. He cleaned each grain of dirt from his nails while contemplating his next move. Cesar had told him there was another spy here. He would make contact soon and deliver a reminder of that deal so he would have help.

Rick patted the small dirt lump under him until it was flat. He and Cesar had used this simple method of communication before. By the time Adrian broke camp, the disturbed earth would be settled and unnoticeable unless someone was hunting for it. These precautions hadn’t been necessary in most of the groups he had helped the slaver conquer. Rick now had firm doubts about Cesar’s ability to emerge as the victor against Safe Haven. He had begun the usual campaign of fear though, drugging the dogs and forcing the leader here to react rashly. Every guard Cesar could pick off on a supply run would mean fewer men they had to face later. Next would be a fire that destroyed food supplies, but Rick was already sure that mental games weren’t going to crush the hope here. He had tried to make that clear in his letter. If Cesar lost, it would strengthen not only Safe Haven, but also every other town of survivors waiting to be attacked. They might all try to fight back. The human spirit was hard to predict sometimes, and Adrian knew how to handle his people. Cesar isn’t nearly as good.

7

“Cesar doesn’t believe us about the witch because he hasn’t seen her do anything.” Dillan rubbed at the unreachable ache in his wrist as he observed the well-protected camp through his scope. Safe Haven’s lights were a vivid beacon in the darkness.

Dean shrugged, busy working on items they needed. “It won’t matter. The leader down there called Cesar’s bluff; he didn’t run. Cesar wants him dead now. He won’t back off.”

Dillan looked at his brother in the cold darkness of the drafty house they were using for a blind. The dim moon above gave just enough light to work by. “Cesar may not be able to handle these people.”

“...Cesar’s got the tank by now.” Dean refused to admit he’d been thinking the same thing during his turn at the scope. “He’s on the way here with it. When he hits them, she’ll be unprotected in the chaos. We’ll get to her then.”

Dillan grunted. “When Cesar gets here, the people below will fight back. Rick’s usual tactics won’t work to rattle that blond leader. He’s too hard.”

“I know.” Dean set the dart he’d just finished onto the cluttered, dusty coffee table of the burnt home. “The usual plan would work if Cesar gave it time; he won’t with this group. We’ll hit her and the boy with these knockout darts during that fight, then take them to that cabin where we found the last group of slaves.”

“And if he wins? Cesar will come after us.”

Dean’s voice was cold. “Then we’ll use her against whoever shows up. The witch came across an entire country to claim her son. She’ll do whatever we want to keep him alive.”

“Agreed.” Dillan moved away from the dirty, glassless window. “Come morning, we’ll relocate?”

“Yes. And if we get the chance, we’ll take it before Cesar arrives. Keep searching for holes in their defenses. We only need them to make one mistake.”