The Survivors: Book One (14 page)

Minutes later, Adrian stepped out of the tent with Joe’s stiffening body over one broad shoulder, a shovel and a bottle of Jack Daniels in his other hand. His sheep stayed with him as he dug the grave and got drunk, waiting with eyes that begged him to say he forgave them for not stopping it.

Point man when it happened, Neil’s face had been the most ashamed. No one had wanted to get involved, and Adrian’s voice was hard as he finished sinking the cross into the thick, ugly dirt, turning to look at them.

“I’m getting tired and there are survivors out there who still care enough to try again. If you guys can’t get it together enough to at least do what’s right, then I’ll find another group to help and you’ll be on your own again.
”

Adrian closed the notebook, thinking the panic on their faces had been enough to tell him he had their support, their loyalty. Except for Tonya. Never one to follow blindly, her twisted logic had become clear when she’d come to Joe’s tent where he was getting drunk. She had begged him not to be banished, and he let her stay because of one simple sentence.

“If I had known Caleb was nuts, I woulda told someone!”

That had stopped him. He too had missed it, had let in a remorseless killer.

Because of Tonya’s lust for power, two men were dead and he couldn’t even punish her publicly due to his own strict rules concerning the treatment of women. Therefore, he’d devised his own line of justice, and tonight would be the climax, literally. After weeks of subtle flirting and making promises with his eyes, he was going to let her seduce him.

The savior and the whore.

The rest of the camp, having no idea of the game being played, had already begun to regard her as slightly crazy when she spoke of their relationship, and it amused Adrian to see the frustration burning in her eyes when he wouldn't back up her claims.

Tonya had been hiding ambitions of running this camp and having real authority. The power she had longed for with Joe was nothing compared to a position as Adrian's mate. In this war-torn land she would be a queen, not just a dumb chippy who had been selling her body to get where she wanted to be. And he knew the way her mind worked. She was sure that all she had to do was get him in bed. Every man who had ever slept with her had probably become her puppet, from teachers to bosses. He was to be her crowning…

Scratch…scratch…

Adrian grinned, setting the notebook aside. Revenge was best served cold and he’d waited for that reason. He could have had her the same day as Joe’s murder if he wanted, she was that callous.

“Come in.”

Tonya moved inside carefully, bright green eyes reading him, his mood. When he smiled, and leaned over to blow out the candle, she started pushing off her boots.

Barely lit by the shadows of the center fire, she didn’t see his smile merge into a greedy leer of lust and hatred. He was just as callous. She was about to learn that.

Tonya was in ecstasy already. Half an hour from now, she would be Adrian’s legal mate! She went to him eagerly in the darkness, determined to make sure he enjoyed himself. When he met her, hands jerking her close, she melted against him.

“Ooh... I’ve wanted ya so badly," Tonya moaned pressing closer to his hard, male body in the dark tent as the cold Utah wind beat against the camouflage vinyl.

Her light Southern accent was fake but sexy, and Adrian’s body throbbed with need.

Tonya groaned in delight as his mouth slanted over hers, his hands roughly roaming her soft body, finding she wore no panties to slow him down. He grabbed a handful of thick red curls and ground his hardness against her belly, thinking her pale skin and green eyes, combined with that Irish hair, easily made her the sexiest woman here.

Adrian pushed the camp whore down by her shoulder, pulling at her dress, and as she slid to her knees, her fingers went obediently to the buckle of his jeans. Her hands were like silk, and when her hot mouth closed over him, he arched forward, the sucking sensation incredible.

Her head began an aggressive up and down movement that sent heat rolling into his toes, and then he was pushing her back, following her down onto the cold, canvas floor.

Shoving forward before she was settled, he kissed her deeply; loving it that her gasps were not faked like some women he’d been with. He moved shallow at first, quick and light, and she climaxed fast, nails raking lightly down his shoulder, body tightening, pulsing, and exploding.  Adrian thrust harder, dog tag clinking.

Tonya let her hands roam his hard, tanned skin and soft blond spikes. “We’ll be good together. I’ll be a good mate to ya,” she promised, moaning as he started long, hard strokes that slid her up on the floor and drew a surprising rush of wetness. Very few men could pull two from her.

Adrian tangled his rough hands in her thick, red curls and pushed in as deep as he could get, on fire as he watched the triumph and need melt together in her glowing green eyes.

“Finally mine!” she growled, giving him a chill, and she pulled his head down to kiss his full, sexy mouth.

Coming up for air, Adrian smiled cruelly, leaning his weight into each thrust. “Oh no, Baby. This is a one-time deal. Enjoy it.”

His breathing was harsh and he swelled, almost snapping when her eyes understood, but her body refused to listen, slender hips keeping perfect rhythm as he rutted between her long legs.

“You, Bastard!”

On the edge, Tonya pulled his head down for another hot kiss that shoved her into a world of rivers and light, but she began to struggle almost immediately and he let her. The pain in her eyes a bigger turn-on than even her mouth.

His hands kept her head still and Adrian ground their lips together, kissing her, touching her, mocking her as he thrust roughly.

Used to being the one who was cold and in control, Tonya was horrified to feel her traitorous body responding again, wanting his touch no matter the intent. She twisted, almost rolling them over.

Adrian dropped his full weight on her, making her cry out. “Be still!” he growled harshly, hips now pounding into hers. “You’ve begged for it enough!”

Her fists slammed into his shoulders and back, and he lowered his head to avoid telling marks on his face, enjoying the fight she couldn’t win. When her nails raked down his back, drawing blood this time, he shoved forward, grunting.

A final “Uhh!” and he was on his knees in a quick movement, seed spraying on her thigh as she scrambled to get away.

Adrian was up a second after her, very aware that this was the moment she might be her most dangerous. He bent over to pull up his jeans, unable to keep from grinning in satisfaction.

A thick medical book sailed over his head, slapped the side of the tent and slid down the canvas wall in front of him. He laughed, turning to watch her as he fished in his pockets for a smoke.

Tonya had jerked her dress over wild curls and was pulling on a calf high black boot, tears of rage blurring her vision as she sat on the neat floor. “You’ll pay for this! I’ll tell!”

Her fake accent was gone, and she snarled when his confident smile remained in place; his cold blue eyes full of remorseless pleasure. “You’re a whore. They already know that.”

“Even you can’t get away with rape!” she sputtered, clumsily pulling on her other boot.

Adrian shrugged, watching her carefully. “Don’t know of any rape conviction where the woman got two orgasms before she started complaining.”

“If they knew what kind of man you really are, they wouldn’t follow you anywhere!"

Tonya stomped from the tent with sticky thighs and Adrian’s mocking voice following her out into the cold, windy air.

“But they don’t know, Red, and, from you, they’d never believe.”

Adrian returned to his notebook with a smirking look few in camp would have recognized. There might be a skirmish or two left, but the war between him and Tonya was over. She was an outcast, the camp treating her the way he did, and tomorrow, when she claimed they were sleeping together, he would deny such a nasty lie. It would drive her crazy that this time she was telling the truth, and no one would believe her.

 Adrian’s smile faded. His leadership hadn’t been questioned once after Joe’s death, but later, when Neil had told him his quick, brutal execution of the killer had gotten him the camp’s final approval, Adrian had to stop himself from telling the Arizona State Trooper how morally wrong it was to earn respect by taking a life. It was a hard, new world, and they were all adjusting as best they could.

Sure would be easier with a few more of the good men his dreams had promised
, Adrian thought, pulling on his boots.
Just a few.
He had a couple of go-to guys who showed promise, but frankly, he needed a lot more than those here could give.

Just after midnight now, it had been seven weeks since the War, and they were spending four days in the heavily wooded Fish Lake National Forest. Camped just below Milford, Utah, they were waiting for a small group of men to get back from a supply run to a nearby food warehouse. The storms had slowed them down.

As always, Adrian’s relentless mind was back on where to call home for the winter. They’d already checked a long list of places. When they broke camp in the morning, they would continue north, towards the base in Montana, but he already knew what they’d find there: nothing. His followers were looking for the authority; Adrian was looking for the bunker under the compound, but if he kept picking up survivors regularly, there was no way that small shelter would hold them all. As a result, other than underground, he had no good ideas that he could live with.

The choice had been left entirely up to him, the camp indicating at the meeting that they had faith in his decisions, and though that had been the plan all along, it was still a heavy burden.

“It’s like sheep," he muttered, knowing they were scared and lost, but Adrian was unable to imagine a situation where he would give over control of his own life so easily. They had no problem with being told where to sit and stand, and while it made things a lot easier, it showed him how weak they really were, and how much had to be done. He would have to push harder, do more for them.

They didn’t even have a doctor yet, and that they needed desperately. Especially him, now that he’d been with Tonya. The sated blond grinned at the delicious memory. It was wrong, bad, and damn, he’d enjoyed it! Revenge had been better than cold…it had been fiery.

2

Pulling on a heavy jacket with a fading eagle on the back, Adrian stepped out into the cold, windy darkness, grateful for the almost inviting smell of the salty wind. Even with a hint of shit, it was still heaven compared to the reeking odors of smoke, decay, and blood that now hung over the towns and cities like a shroud.

Eager to make his nightly rounds of the perimeter guards, Adrian still took time to listen, hearing the soft murmur of voices and rustling of flaps. It told him his herd wasn’t settled yet, and he knew he wouldn’t return to his own rack until they were.

His eyes went first to the watch, nodding to those he could see. Listening for the others, he heard the almost constant crunch of boot steps as the Eagles prowled, eyes sweeping the darkness. Adrian was sure few, if any, of his new army would slack off. He had chosen most of them because they seemed to understand it might be only one man’s dreams, but it was America’s future. They were nine man teams of safety, of security, and he was teaching them as fast as he could.

Adrian looked around again, spotting Dale, but none of the others. The new group of rookies was currently in the middle of individual challenges, and he allowed himself a rare, brief flash of pride at having made it this far with them. It was their final test to be full Level One Eagles in his army, and only his approval on this would pass them.  It wasn’t just a police force he was training, and the men involved were very aware it was much more. Hopefully, it would be a long time before the main camp discovered it, though. Suspicions were running very high, thanks to dear old dad and his Freemason pals.

Missing being able to look up and see the moon and stars, Adrian ignored the glittering green eyes that watched him, burned holes into his back from the female side of the tents. He slid a bright red bandana into his front pocket, leaving the ends dangling. Was the radio quiet? It hadn’t been last night, and understanding the transmissions through the loud, violent storms raging around them had been near impossible. The screams had been clear enough though, and it bothered him that he couldn’t help.

There were other groups around. They heard people regularly on the CB pleading for help, and occasionally they saw campfires. Those close enough, he sought out quietly, leaving on supply runs with a few of the more promising guards, and returning with survivors.  Only those with him knew that he had planned it that way, down to the very last detail. They were part of his American herd and he wanted them all.

Adrian moved quietly to the north end of the half-mile wide camp, wishing he had ten more alert-minded men to put on guard duty at night. Hell, another five observant bodies would help, would let him get four and a half hours of sleep a night instead of the three he was averaging as he struggled to get everything done – to keep up his end of the deal. It was a strange, dangerous life and while he didn’t baby the refugees, he did try to distract their attention from some of the things that might have caused rebellion - like training his army. He gave them soccer and football games, poker nights, and shooting contests, knowing that eventually they’d start feeling like Americans again. Once that happened, they would wake up to the unpleasant reality that it was going to be a very long trip, and they had to work together. It was slow-going, with only a few exceptions.

The guard on the north end of the dimly lit parking area was Doug, now fully recovered from his trial under the bridge. With red hair, and a red vest under a raggedy green jacket, the 6’4” Army vet was hard to miss even in a crowd, but he was nowhere to be seen as Adrian stepped between the new, rusty, old, beat-up, muddy, and shiny vehicles. Doug may have been years out of service due to a small injury that had left him with a limp, but he was a great comfort to have around during this time of chaos.