The Survivors

Wyoming

March 7th

1

Adrian woke with the feeling that something valuable had been stolen from him. He listened for the sounds of his camp. Tents flapped, dogs yapped, footsteps crunched softly, voices murmured. The sounds were there, normal.

He sat up, reaching for his smoking box. Clad in boxers, Adrian lit a joint, not cold but aware of the chill in the tent. His watch said it was 5:33am. It was time to get his busy day going. The list was almost double what it usually was. Everyone would be busy right up to the contest after dinner.

Adrian hit the joint hard and rubbed the sleep from his face. My goatee needs a trim. He coughed at the lungful of potent smoke. Tonya knew how to grow it. Too bad pot wouldn’t be allowed when they settled somewhere. If he let in one drug, the rest would follow. In the meantime, stashes and supplies would run out like everything else, forcing unhealthy habits to be broken without him having to be cruel.

Adrian inhaled harder, holding it until his lungs burned. He was tired and worried–his usual state since the war. It only took a few hits for him to feel the effects. He gathered himself, lower mind planning the day, fitting things together for convenience while his higher mind searched for those he had to believe were still on their way. Maybe they’re already here. Maybe I passed them by. I need others like me! I can’t keep doing this alone!

The leader let out a harsh sigh. He would keep trying until he was used up and beyond. He wouldn’t give up like his father had. Guilt rolled over Adrian. Behind it came the overwhelming need to right the wrongs that he could. Adrian got up, still listening to his people. They were the reason he worked so hard. He dressed fast, eager to be among them.

Pulling on his jacket against the chill, he stepped out into the strong wind. His attention went straight to the sky. Adrian frowned at the ugly look and feel of it. Something was racing their way. Rain? Snow? Both? He would have to use his gifts, something he only did here while the camp was sleeping.

Adrian did a sweep of the area. Only the guards were watching him right now. Time to give them a little more trust. He concentrated. Show me!

The wind gathered strength. A two-foot dust whirl rose off the dry ground, spinning toward him. It broke apart against his legs, covering his jeans in grit.

Adrian’s heart thumped. A sandstorm.

Kenn joined Adrian. He opened his notebook without being told, erasing his neat mental chalkboard for the day. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but it gave him a flash of the determined woman on the way to her son. He kept his attention on the page so Adrian couldn’t read his guilt.

“We’ll have an hour. It’s moving fast.”

Kenn swept the area. The mountain view to the south was becoming obscured by a wall of sand racing toward them. Sandy wind was starting to beat on their tents, tarps, cars. The dogs were barking in an agitated manner; panicked sounds came from the livestock. Kenn’s gut unclenched from the boring resignation that had woken him. This wouldn’t be an average day. “I’ll keep ’em rolling.”

Adrian lit a smoke, sorting details.

Kenn gave a negative gesture to a level two Eagle from Neil’s team who’d stopped nearby.

Jeremy kept walking at the denial, scowling.

“We have to roll in the camp by half a click. It’s too big to protect.” Adrian took the knife from his boot and knelt to draw in the dirt. He made deep marks to keep the wind from distorting it. “Put the mess in the center. Line seven rigs up on the redline in front of it. Pack them in as close as you can. Make the wire tight, with a bathroom camper on each end. The weight of the water will hold them better than a semi. These two ends here have to be right up against the corners of the mess, then line the other vehicles up behind, sideways, big down to little. It’ll create a dissipating barrier. Put tarps on the sides to wall it off. Tie ’em to the trucks, but be careful of gaps. If they billow in the wind, we’ll be one big sail.”

Both men looked up at an odd whine to the wind.

A tornado of dust as high as a car slammed into them. The dirt map disappeared.

Adrian wiped his face with a gritty hand and continued as if it was still there. “Put the ends under the tires and heavier stuff. Make sure it’s well secured. Everything else has to be broken down and shoved into the outer trucks to add weight. Cover the livestock and the dogs. They go in the front.”

Kenn copied orders and the map.

People going by stopped to watch as the wind increased. The sense of something big about to happen was spreading.

“The camp in the center trucks?”

Adrian’s blade flashed through the dirt again, ringless fingers nicked, scarred. “Yes, here and here. Make the weight as even as possible. Do the best you can. One kit of possessions allowed. Put the stickup dome lights inside so we don’t have fumes or flames. Gear: goggles, boots, ski masks, orange safety vests. All Eagles will be on duty.”

Kenn finished writing. “What about the perimeter?”

The brown wall of sand was advancing noticeably. Excited voices echoed as people spotted what he and Kenn already had. Danger was coming.

“Only put guards in the front trucks. Anywhere else is voluntary. I don’t recommend the rear. Even in cabs, there could be flying glass and debris. Make it clear anyone crazy enough to do that had better bring the right equipment.”

Kenn wanted to volunteer for the credit, but he knew Adrian needed his help with the camp. Kenn hid a grin of excitement as he waved Eagles over. I thrive on this shit. I can’t wait for it to start.

2

The dust storm headed toward Safe Haven like a missile racing for a target. The sky darkened as it came over the last ridge, sending out fierce winds that ripped tent pegs from the ground. The wind shrieked; buildings popped and groaned.

Adrian’s stomach churned. He hated it that his people weren’t safe, but he loved the fury of nature. Nothing else compared. “Here it comes.” Adrian and three levels of Eagles stood in the much smaller mess. Thick telephone poles made great anchors for the tarps, blocking a lot of the grit. All the men wore the gear they’d been given, ready to assist wherever Adrian told them.

“Brace for impact!”

They moved to the center as the winds picked up, tarps slapping violently, and then the air came alive with tiny, stinging bits of sand that filled every inch of the rolled-in camp.

“Damn!”

“Look!” Kenn pointed to a faded red shed breaking apart as it rolled by in the thick grit. It barely missed the end truck.

The winds increased; dust burned its way through their masks. Men began to cough.

“Bandanas up! Use your shirts!” Adrian pulled his turtleneck over the bottom of his mask, struggling to stay on his feet as the storm engulfed them. The wind was awful, whipping, slapping, pulling violently. The air around the trucked-off camp exploded with flying debris of every shape and size.

Crunch!

“What the…?”

Bang!

The men by the mess truck stumbled at the impact as the rig was hit by the storm and pushed forward. The two trucks on the end kept it from going further. Dust flew up in monstrous clouds, filling the area in a blinding whirl of dark sand the guards could hardly see through.

Adrian pointed. “Get those edges shut! It’ll rip us apart!”

Men rushed to grab the ends of the snapping plastic, retying it to the poles. It became easier to breathe as the dust sank to their knees.

Adrian keyed his mike. “Check in. One, clear.”

“Two, clear.”

“Three, all good here.”

“Four, no problems.”

There were noises in the background of each truck that made Adrian unhappy. Crying kids, voices on the edge of panic, arguments. As soon as the last guard checked in, he hit the button again. “Turn your radios up, Eagles. Let them hear me.” Adrian knew his people needed good words and calm tones. “We’re ten feet from you, watching the storm. It’s unbelievable, scary. We can’t see anything outside the mess, but we’re hearing it, same as you. A lot of stuff is flying around, hitting the trucks. That’s the noise, but so far, everything’s good here. I repeat: We are 5-by, and so are you.”

A huge sheet of wood went tumbling around the edge of the far truck, just missing it. Adrian fought to keep that narrow escape out of his tone. “We’ll do bathroom breaks in groups of four from each truck, women and kids first, as usual.” He paused, growing hazy as he used his sleep charm. With adrenaline flowing so thick, it would only calm them. “I’ll be by each truck in the next few minutes. I know I’ll find card games going and people spending time together, not working themselves or others into a panic. This is nothing we can’t handle.” His voice deepened. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

As if to prove him wrong, wind whipped through the mess in a billowing gap, ripping the tarp free. They were covered in a vortex of spinning sand that tried to invade every inch of space available and space that wasn’t.

“Grab it!”

“I’ve got it!” Kenn rushed to the flapping tarp and hauled it down against the wind trying to pull it back out of his grasp.

Kenn was smirking. Adrian could feel it under the mask. Is he ready for leadership? There was only one way to find out.

Adrian waved men over to help. Their seven rigs of people were protected from the storm, but still vulnerable because they had no one on duty in the rear where the sand was hitting the hardest. Anyone could sneak up on them by following the wake of the storm and they wouldn’t know until it was too late. Visibility was nil, and the tales from the refugees they’d been picking up were a warning Adrian wouldn’t ignore. The slavers liked to hit during severe weather; they were only two hundred miles away as of last week, which wasn’t far enough. Sooner or later, Safe Haven would attract their attention. The pictures Kenn and Kyle had brought back from Cheyenne Mountain last week had indeed been worse than the other places. They’d been keeping a weekly watch on the large group.

Adrian signaled a handful of Eagles to start the bathroom breaks, hating the thought of so many people using just two campers, but there was no other solution in this wind. It had been his experience that sandstorms took their time to pass through. He scanned Kenn, seeing the excitement held under perfect control, the leadership rolling off him in waves. Adrian gestured. “Eagle Two has point. I’ll be around.” Adrian stepped out into the storm, leaving surprise among his army.

“Boo’yah!” Kenn’s grin widened. It was official now. I’m second in command.

Pulling his shirt up over his mouth, Adrian ran to the camp trucks first, calming, assuring, jumping with them when debris slammed into the trucks. He didn’t hurry the stops, understanding they needed him, but he didn’t let them cling either. They had to learn to stand on their own.

3

The storm was still raging when Adrian stepped out of the last rig of calming people.

He went to the animal area they had covered with sheets of plastic, yanking his shirt up to muffle the dust. He was unhappy with the sloppy job Danny and Zack had done. Sand was coming under the edges in small waves. Animals were coughing, pacing, chuffing.

“On a dark, desert highway, cool wind in my…” Adrian sang as he weighted each side with the heavy cages, adjusting the edges until the dust began to settle and the animals started to relax. “Last thing I remember, I was runnin’ for the door…”

The sand he’d already been blasted with gave him a rough rasp. Adrian grinned in the dimness of the vibrating plastic dome. Kenn wasn’t the only one who felt alive when confronting danger.

Adrian marched to his semi, holding his breath. The winds here were so strong that he had to punch his way through with low, powerful steps. Doing what no one expected despite all he’d done for them in the beginning, Adrian stayed in his rig at the rear throughout the storm. He had secured the lives he needed to. The camp was in Kenn’s capable hands, allowing him to ride out the fury in his truck, marveling at the unchecked power.

Adrian concentrated, opening a mental door he hadn’t used in a very long time. His calls to bring people in had always been a part of his life, but this was a warning. Power blasted from his truck and spun through the area in a thick wave that lifted hair on necks and made stomachs churn. Anyone hit by it would know danger was coming even if they didn’t know exactly what it was.

Adrian was one of three men to take the drag position. Seth, who wasn’t an Eagle but wanted to be, and Kyle, were on either side of him. The cop and the mobster protected him while he guarded his camp. Neither of them talked about it later, not even to each other, but they both heard the warning he sent. It didn’t go over the radio but rushed out in powerful mental waves designed to get ahead of the storm. It rang through the air and into their heads until the urge to go to Adrian’s truck had them both fighting tight grips on door handles. There were times later when both men doubted themselves, but at night, while watching their leader do rounds after a twenty-hour day, they would think about it and admit the truth to themselves. He had tried to save survivors in the storm’s path; he cared enough to risk using his gifts to help survivors he didn’t know! He wasn’t like the leaders from their old world. Adrian was special.

The storm blew around Safe Haven for hours, forming tiny cities of sand that vanished as quickly as they appeared. The Eagles handled themselves well, rushing to anchor tarps, secure trucks, and comfort their people during the nonstop bathroom breaks. When the winds finally began to die down, everyone was glad–even those who loved the excitement.

It was almost lunch when Kenn decided it was all right for the camp to come out. The Eagles noticed Adrian let him make the call. Safe Haven had an XO.

Adrian took in the damage with worry in his heart. The landscape had been completely altered. Nothing was the same. Piles of brackish sand in feet-deep drifts covered ripped tents; thin grit blanketed everything, including his army. The damage was extensive, total. How many more lives did we lose? “Eagle Two will keep point. Everyone else, shift.”

Kenn nodded at him from across the camp, then motioned Seth to go with Adrian on his rounds. In time, Seth would be one of his too, Kenn hoped, like Zack. No one else knew Seth was Adrian’s undercover guard. He was good, and someone had to do it. Adrian had to be protected.

Kenn knew what his boss wanted, and he knew how to get things done. Three hours after the storm was gone, Safe Haven looked like it hadn’t been hit. It was a stark contrast to the destruction outside the perimeter. The camp was full size again, re-taped, clean, and running normally.

Adrian was pleased. We’re getting stronger.

4

Adrian came from his tent just after dawn.

Kenn fell in with him.

“You look tired.”

“I’m good.” Kenn didn’t offer any details as he opened his book. He had dreamed Angie was here. After that, sleeping again had been impossible.

Adrian surveyed the three-foot piles of sand that were now their perimeter. The caution tape had ripped away during the night. “I need Seth and Mitch around nine thirty, but make sure he doesn’t leave the radio unattended again. I need ten minutes with the doctor at noon. Then we’ll do a lesson with the rookies. We’ll have a little surprise waiting for Kyle and his team right after that.”

Kenn nodded, copying notes. Adrian had sent Kyle out following the storm to do a recon southeast. Adrian wanted to know if the slavers were closer, and of course, to collect any survivors.

“We’ll keep it simple. Use the laser tag vests.” Adrian ignored the stomach wanting toast with heavy butter. His people ate before he did, and they were low on bread. They didn’t find much flour. “We’ll need crews to clean up after the contest and to help with the targets during. You’ll have to dig through the schedules that end today to see who already has their hours in or has a shift tonight. Set the contest up like last time, over in that softball field. Those not shooting will stay behind the gate.”

Adrian paused to sip his coffee, studying the line where Kenn’s boy was waiting. All his people appeared healthy, normal. They’d been lucky to have so few medical problems after spending so much time on sour ground. They had suffered a couple deaths in the last weeks, from heart failure. An EKG machine was another item on his growing list.

“That it?”

Adrian snorted, watching the lines grow as more hungry souls came to the mess; the noise levels increased. Coughs, moans, groans, laughs–to Adrian it was the beautiful sound of normal life continuing. “Here’s some FND work: a faster mess that has them in line for less than five minutes, for both food and drinks.”

Finished writing, Kenn picked up Adrian’s cup. “Refill?”

“You know it.”

When Kenn moved toward the line, Charlie slid by and put a small plate in front of Adrian. He kept moving toward the table he shared with Timmy and Mike, two of Zack’s teenage boys.

Adrian stopped him. “You busy later?”

Looking furtively at Kenn, the boy came back toward Adrian. “No. Do we get new schedules tomorrow?”

Appearing absorbed in taking the plastic from his toast with heavy butter, Adrian studied Charlie. He’d spent time thinking about their talk in the bowling alley and concluded this quiet boy held the magic, not Kenn. Kenn claiming it to protect the child was almost an acceptable lie. Almost. At least it explained why Kenn had flat out refused to use his gift again when Adrian mentioned it a few days after they left the bowling alley.

“Mug of coffee, fresh pack of smokes, a cardboard box this big.” Adrian demonstrated with his hands. “Bring those things to my tent around ten thirty. We’ll do rounds; you’ll get your schedule then.”

Charlie agreed eagerly, scuffed shoelaces dragging through the inch of sand covering the mess floor. He shifted from foot to foot. “You need anything else?”

Adrian studied him from under lowered lashes. “Yeah, a ton of food and water. You get an idea, make sure I’m told.”

“You know it.”

“He knows what?”

Charlie flinched.

Adrian waved him on as Kenn returned with two full cups and sat down. “Make-work. Kids need to be kept busy.”

“True dat.”

“We have to pick the next list of places to search. Bring the maps by after lunch.”

A short time later, Adrian sat in the lea of his tent at a folding table, with notebooks in front of him. He got started making schedules for the next week, glad he wouldn’t have to spend the extra hours trying to figure out who didn’t have all their shifts in yet. As of midnight, everyone was back at zero. He worked on them in alphabetical order, trying to fit the person to the chore by their skills. He listened to people as they walked by, approving of the pants and long sleeves most of them were wearing. Both of John’s suggestions had been accepted.

“Those eggs was nasty, but it’s the best meal I’ve had since January.”

“Glad we’re back on full water rations.”

“Um. Imagine a hot bubble bath.”

“Girl, a hot shower would be heaven.”

“Yeah, that’ll happen. It uses too much water.”

Adrian flipped to a rear page and scribbled a note, then resumed working on the schedules. What his people wanted, they got. It just wasn’t always when they wanted it.

5

Mitch arrived ten minutes late to give the CB updates in person.

Adrian handed him a sheet of paper, still not sure he’d chosen the right person for this job. They had tested a dozen men, but only this sloppy drunkard hadn’t flunked. “This is how I’d like the radio run from now on. What we put over the air matters.”

The red-nosed man gave it a quick read. “Sure.”

“Kenn will be installing a more powerful CB system in the next week. When he’s ready, move to another truck until he’s done.”

“You got it, A-Man. I’ll catch you later.” The hungover man left, eager to use the bolder system.

Adrian was relieved when the ass kisser was gone. He hated dealing with someone like Mitch, but it couldn’t be helped. He suspected Mitch was too good to waste. Adrian planned to leave him on the radio until he knew for sure.

When he was gone, Adrian gestured Seth over and began gathering his papers. “Long wait.”

Seth gave a tight smile, taking off his cap as he sat down. “I don’t mind waiting. It’s better that we’re alone anyway.”

Adrian finished off his cold coffee with a grimace. “Because you want to know why I passed you up for rookie level again, but you don’t want anyone to know you’re questioning my judgment?”

Adrian’s words were brutally honest. Seth nodded, not sure if he was ready for the truth he’d come for, or if the things he needed to say to this man, who he respected above all others, would get him asked to leave.

“Because I’m not sure about you yet.”

The cop’s hurt eyes flew to his.

Adrian made a dismissive gesture, thinking of his surprise when it had been Seth who joined Kyle during the storm, not Neil. “Not like that. I’m not sure where I need you the most.”

“I know where I belong!” Seth clamped his mouth shut and waited to hear the conversation was over.

Adrian didn’t speak for a minute. Seth was a good man, but he had a short fuse, which was not a great trait for a guard. “Have you thought about something else? There’s a lot we need.”

“Yeah.”

Adrian examined the man. Seth was usually the first one at the tape to search through new refugees, never skipping it. His devotion had gotten attention. Adrian hadn’t been surprised to find out the undercover cop had been planning to apply to the Secret Service Academy. He’d wanted to protect the President. In time, Seth might still get that chance. “Why an Eagle, Seth? Why does it matter so much?”

Surprised at the easy opening, the thirty-year-old told the truth. “Because you need my help and I need to serve. Because there’s no one watching your six; I want the job.”

“You sure? That may be very dangerous in the future.”

Seth nodded. “More than anything. It’s what I’m supposed to be doing.”

Adrian studied him for another long moment before shrugging as if he wasn’t sure the cop could do it, though nothing could be further from the truth. The skill was there. It was the man behind it that gave him a hinky feeling. “I’ll change your schedule, but keep in mind it takes more than good aim and confidence.”

“I belong there.” Seth stood, holding out his hand. “Thank you.”

Adrian shook with him. “I hope you find what you’re hunting for.”

Seth’s expression darkened. “So do I.”

As he left, Adrian noticed Charlie coming his way, right on time and hands full.

“What do you think about him?” Adrian indicated Seth.

Charlie shrugged. “Seth’s okay. He just never found his little girl. He’s still upset.”

Adrian didn’t comment. He had to be careful how he handled Charlie. As for Seth, he was another above average survivor trying to become a shepherd. Adrian would help him make that transition, but where were those who had been born to lead? “I’ll put this stuff in my tent. Then you can go with me on rounds.”

Charlie wasn’t sure why the boss wanted his company, but he was eager to help if he could and be seen doing it–like everyone else here.

Adrian folded up the table, taking it and a chair to the flap.

Charlie carried the other chair, but didn’t go inside because he hadn’t been invited.

Adrian nodded his thanks. The boy was well trained, and it bothered him, a lot. “Grab that box and come on.”

The first stop was the mess, where thirty people were in line or already sitting down to canned chili, crackers, and applesauce.

Adrian stopped near the flagpole. “Raise our colors.”

Charlie and Adrian saluted, as did others.

Adrian searched for those who looked like they’d done it before. It might mean they had a military background. He spied two, maybe three, and added them to the list of interviews for the next set of Eagles. If they still had the desire to serve, he had work for them. He wouldn’t respect them as much if they didn’t. In the Corps, in for life, but he understood. He wouldn’t treat them differently.

Kenn fell in on Adrian’s right as they moved on.

Adrian saw Charlie drop out of eye but not earshot. He pretended to be involved in kicking a path through the sand that had blown back in during the night.

“I have a great idea.” Kenn handed Adrian a slip of paper. “That’s our next supply run. It could be everything we need for a while, depending on how lucky we get.”

Adrian clapped Kenn on the arm. I should have already thought of this. “Great, is an understatement. Kyle’s men will be your escort. Leave tomorrow. I’ll need a list of who and what supplies by morning.”

“You know it.” Kenn wrote it down.

Adrian saw satisfaction flash across Charlie’s face. Did the boy help Kenn? It was a brilliant idea. Over half of America’s goods had been transported by rail, and the massive boxcars would still be sitting there, just waiting to be emptied. Some, say half, would already be cleaned out or damaged, but the rest would be on the tracks where the EMPs or lack of fuel had shut them down. “What else?”

They moved to the parking area, Charlie trailing.

Kenn stored his notebook. “Last thing. I know you do fuel-ups by yourself on days when we’re shorthanded, like at the end of the month. I thought maybe you could change things a little. Like for the Eagles to graduate to the next level, they have to put in hours on a teaching class. That would free up six or seven short shifts.”

“We are always short ten men.”

Kenn ran a beefy hand over his short black hair as the gritty wind ruffled it. “Give me one of the extras. That’ll leave you two.”

Adrian snorted. “Two, instead of ten. I won’t know what to do with the extra time.”

“Sleep.”

They shared a grin of commiseration. Both of them averaged less than five hours a night.

“I’ve given your boy a fulltime job.”

Kenn was okay with Charlie being distracted. The whining about his mother was relentless. Kenn had found himself spending as much time away from the sulky teenager as he could. “He’s a hard worker.”

“I’ve noticed. Hey, did you take the hand-to-hand test yet?”

“No.” Kenn didn’t remind him they’d both passed one in basic training. What had happened before the war was mostly that–before.

“Doug’s class should still be going. Tell him to give you a quick run. Watch for a bit first, so you know what you’re up against.”

Kenn snapped a quick salute and left.

Charlie moved to Adrian’s side. He felt sorry for whoever Kenn was cursing in his thoughts. When he did that, someone (usually my mom) ended up bleeding.

Adrian didn’t care about Kenn’s mood. Kenn couldn’t help him teach the guards unless he was willing to go through the same things they did. Kenn wouldn’t have his own team of Eagles. He would serve the boss instead, but he still had to do everything the teams did to help teach them. A little less confidence for the match tonight won’t hurt either. Kenn was sharp. He’d only lost last time because the wind had gusted at the wrong second and ruined his shot. “Come on. Bring that box.”

Charlie did, clamping down on the request for his schedule that wanted to fly out of his mouth. Adrian would give it to him. Unlike most adults, he never went back on what he said.

6

An hour later, Adrian was almost sure the railyard had been the smart, observant boy’s idea. The magic fate had hinted at was already here; it had been for a while. It was just too young, too raw, to be very useful yet.

Charlie frowned as they moved to the mess line for bowls of soup and fresh biscuits. “What’s this box for?”

Adrian grinned at him. “I thought you’d ask long before now. Line it with a garbage bag and put a note on it. Food only! Set it by the cans. It’s for the pregnant dogs.”

Charlie finished and joined Adrian at the table. The males ate in silence, subtly feeling each other out.

Excited voices echoed, causing people to gawk.

A small group of men came by, helping Doug toward the medical tent. His face and shirt were bloody.

Adrian snorted. I underestimated Kenn. I won’t do that again.

A second group of noisemakers arrived a couple minutes later, Kenn in their midst.

“Damnedest thing I ever saw.”

“Shoulda seen it!”

“Two hits! Just two hits!”

“Broke it. I heard it snap.”

Kenn was grinning as they got in line.

Adrian glanced at Charlie, seeing how he’d tensed. “Ready?”

The boy immediately got up.

They slipped out of the mess before Kenn was halfway through the long, loud line.

Their next stop was the new livestock trailers, and the even newer veterinarian, Chris. The Utah man had been out of the QZ for a week, but he’d been hard at work most of that time–alone, because of his surly attitude and smart mouth.

“Anybody home?”

Movement echoed from inside, but not an answer.

Charlie lifted his hand to open the faded white door.

“Not a good idea, boy, but you do what you want.”

Charlie dropped his hand. They turned to find the tall, thin veterinarian coming from a nearby tent. His neat white coat and handsome face didn’t hide the frosty attitude of a loner.

“Star’s in there giving birth. She’s not in the mood for company.”

Adrian stepped over to him. “You see the pups yet?”

Chris tossed a small, white package at Charlie. “One. It’s normal as far as I can tell. When she’s done, I’ll knock her out and run the blood work.”

“Good.” Adrian denied the offered envelope. “That’s Kenn’s job now. He’ll be by.” Adrian focused on Charlie. “What’s your job that matters?”

Charlie smiled. “I’m a dog handler. Or at least I will be.”

“And do you know why this is a job that matters?”

Charlie’s brow furrowed. “No, sir.”

Adrian was pleased. Charlie would end up being very helpful in the future. He reminds me of…Adrian stopped the thought. He wasn’t allowed to be distracted by it until they hit Arkansas, and that was still a lifetime away. “When you do, come talk to me. In the meantime, Chris is your boss, so pay attention.”

Charlie snapped off a salute. “You know it.” The smart teenager approached Chris with his hand out. “Hi. I’m Charlie, your new slave. What should I do first?”

Adrian chuckled.

Even the stern vet hid a smile. “That’s a real good start. Put on the clothes and come into the truck. I’ll have her chained up by then. Today, we help dogs repopulate the earth.”

“Cool!”