The Survivors: Book One (38 page)

She was jumpy, more so now than the night they’d been reunited, and she never slept for more than a few hours without her nightmares interrupting. It made him a little more nervous and a lot more pissed with each passing day. Her man was definitely going to be taught a lesson. How hard it would be was the only unknown.

Marc put his hands to work, caring for his guns yet again, as his ears strained to hear any noise outside. He finished with the beautiful, matching Colt’s and slid them onto his hips with a feeling of completeness he knew not to put much faith in. Being good with a gun wasn’t nearly enough now. It took listening to everything around you, but mostly to your gut. His was telling him that this mess was all his fault, and the time had come to fix it. He was a United States Marine, and it was his duty to open the door to her cage.

Shivering, Angela sat in the back seat of her Blazer, the open door letting the wind swirl dark flakes inside. Her mind was awash with the past - her man’s violence, mixed with childhood demons, and the horror of seeing the War up close - and she wished she didn’t have to sleep. She would never have an unbroken night’s rest again until she was with her son.

"The arms of the man, your new guardian, would ease these things. His heart is pure."

Angela frowned at the wolf, shaking her head. She had little doubt it would work, but Marc would never just offer, and she couldn’t imagine asking. It went against everything she’d had beaten into her.

"This man is not the same. He is yours."

 She shook her head again. “Not anymore. That was a long time ago.”

"Then why does it feel like it was yesterday?"
the old Angela questioned.

Her heart sobbed, giving the answer that Kenny must never, ever be allowed to discover. “Because I still have feelings for Brady. They never went away.”

Chapter Twenty

February 24
^th
, 2013

Wyoming, near Kemmerer

1

Kenn listened to the early morning chatter at the boss’s center table with only half an ear - something he usually never did. His clever mind was busy searching for a way to tell Adrian about the coming storm. He had no doubts, had seen the deep snow drifts around the tarp-covered outlines of two vehicles (two!), but how could he convince Adrian, without telling him about Angela?

"Lie,"
his mind whispered and Kenn looked up guiltily to see everyone staring at him.

“Sorry, what?” he sputtered.

Adrian frowned. “Supply list?”

Kenn handed it to him from the stack on the table, being careful not to let the stiff wind rip it from his fingers. “Here ya go.”

Adrian looked it over, nodded, and turned to Neil. “Who’s going with you?”

The cop handed him a smaller sheet of paper as a bird’s wild call echoed, and they all looked up at the grit-covered sky. Tension gripped the crowd in the Mess, but when it wasn’t spotted, the normal noises slowly resumed. Wind blowing tarps, the clink of dishes, footsteps, vehicles lining up for a full days travel - Adrian told himself he was just feeling jumpy.

“There are the names and some other details. Do you want…”

Kenn let their conversation fade away from him again, mind clearly not on the meeting.

Adrian sighed, banging his cup down hard on the picnic table. Everyone jumped and the Marine’s eyes flew to his. “Is there something I should know?”

“Yeah,” Kenn confirmed quickly, and Adrian was glad to see relief on his XO’s scruffy face instead of the guilt he’d been expecting.

“It’s gonna snow tonight and we’ll be caught out in the open unless we get ready,” Kenn announced, then waited, dreading the questions that would force him to lie to Adrian.

“Snow?”

Kenn set his cup down and squared his shoulders. “From the South, at least a foot by midnight, maybe more. We need to hole up somewhere.”

Kyle, Doug, and Neil were looking at him with open mouths, but Adrian’s tone was thoughtful.

“And what do you suggest?”

“We passed a mall in Green River, a the roller rink back in Rock Springs, but really, Kemmerer’s only a few miles away, and it has a bowling alley with a mall across the street. We’ll hook up heat, maybe even get a few lanes going,” Kenn stated casually, ignoring the frowning guards. Adrian’s opinion was the only one that mattered, and he looked at Kenn now, deep blue eyes shuttered.

“You’re sure?”

Kenn didn’t look away. “I must be. I’m risking my new place here on it, right?”

Adrian cocked an eyebrow and looked at him flatly, “Yes, you are. The bowling alley in Kemmerer?”

“Yeah, Sage Lanes. It could snow for a week and we’d be okay there,” Kenn said, not hesitating, still seeing the snow-covered vehicles in his mind.
Not one, but two.
Angie wasn’t alone.

The other three men clearly wanted to question, but didn’t because they also knew that only Adrian’s decision really mattered. They could feel him weighing it, even as all five of them turned to watch money - a large number of twenties - go blowing by with the gusty Wyoming wind. Two of them still felt the natural urge to gather it up, despite its uselessness.

Adrian looked around. They had a great view of the Rocky Mountains, where grizzly bear and elk were no doubt hiding from the survivors, but down here in the basin, there were bodies of lizards and gophers scattered among the mesquite shrubs and cactus with their yellow and red tinged flowers, and not a single tree in sight. There were barbed wire fences, rows of unturned fields, and garbage littering the area, but as for civilization, there were only the distant outlines of two farms, and they looked boarded up, like they’d been condemned before the War had come. No other shelters. They were very exposed to the weather here, and if his Marine was right about the snow, they were in danger.

“Notebooks open. Plans have changed.”

They did it reluctantly.
A Gulf War Veteran, a State Trooper, and a Mobster getting a taste of crow,
Kenn thought.

“We’ll need all three generators, a full fuel truck, the big tool chest, and a crew for bathroom setups, since those scheduled for here already did theirs.” He looked at Kenn, not scowling like he wanted to, when the wind blew a fresh wave of recent decay over their table. “You’ll do the hookups?”

Kenn nodded, and Adrian lit a smoke. “Good. Go spend some time on the radio. Tell Mitch and Matt I want them.”

Kenn moved right away, figuring ‘he heard it while monitoring the CB’ would be his excuse to the camp. While he was glad he hadn’t had to lie to Adrian yet, he knew the questions would come and he would need to have an answer ready.

The camp around them now murmuring, watching. Adrian gave his closest men understanding looks, sure their light beards hid suspicion and dislike. “I know you don’t trust him and that’s all right, as long as you trust me. Do you?”

“You know it,” came the unanimous answers, but all three black-uniformed men were indeed hiding frowns under light stubble and blank looks. They didn’t even like the Marine, let alone trust him.

“Good. We’ll see what happens, and in the meantime, a day in a bowling alley with heat and real lights sounds good. You guys gonna be on my team?”

There were boasts and grins, Adrian in the thick of it, and his inscrutable eyes never hinted at how much he wanted,
needed
the Marine to be proven right. It would cement Kenn’s place here, but more than that, the ability to predict foul weather headed their way was invaluable. It was a skill he hadn’t suspected the man of having.

The camp had no problem with getting a break from the expected hours of traveling, and nearly all the Eagles cracked jokes about the calm skies and temperatures that were currently above freezing. Kenn only told them to wait and see, but inside he was terrified of being wrong. He knew Angela wasn’t trying to trick him, but what if the storm had gone past them or dissipated? His face hurt from forcing himself to laugh at the remarks, and through it all he could feel Adrian's thoughtful blue gaze on him, watching and waiting.

2

A small town, Kemmerer appeared to be empty, the roads surprisingly clear of abandoned traffic, but there was heavy damage from looters, and even the animal population hadn’t been spared. The town’s dog pound was the site of a horrific battle that made Adrian drive faster past the decaying canine and human cadavers littering the charred, glassless, brick complex.

Like the other towns they’d been to, Kemmerer had a lot of bodies, dozens of rotting, gruesome corpses, and Adrian was glad to see that none of them slowed obvious signs of radiation sickness. The town itself held burnt frames, broken windows, looted stores, but no wrecked military vehicles, no kicked-in doors. Apparently riots, not the Draft, had conquered this American town.

The parking lot at Sage Lanes was deserted until they pulled in, and Adrian steered into the hard breeze as he keyed his mic, “Back the Mess truck up near the door. Supply trucks in the rear. Double the watch. Eagles ten, seven, and twelve, secure our campsite. Eagle Three, escort and assist Kenn. Everyone else, stand by.”

Adrian stepped inside with a frown, running his eyes over arcades, cleaning machines, rows of welded-down tables and hard swivel chairs behind racks of balls and lined-up pins at the end of wide, dust-covered lanes. The maroon carpet, its fine layer of sand devoid of footprints, led to separate bar and food areas, their wooden counters and brick walls covered with glittery signs and unopened party favors. Tired of seeing the heartbreaking reminders of a world gone by, Adrian’s sharp gaze picked out mouse droppings on the bar, a ceiling full of New Year’s confetti, and he nodded as calls of ‘all clear’, echoed.

“It’ll do. Set us up.”

3

Kenn set the mouse trap in the corner, hitching up jeans, as he stood, aware that they were no longer too tight. He watched Doug and Neil move toward the steps leading to the basement, about to do a second sweep. The limping redhead in the green army jacket was shaking long, wild hair in response to the tall, thin Trooper, and Kenn caught Zack’s eye.

Reading him easily (the career trucker now wore the clothes of a rookie Eagle trying to make Level One status) Zack trotted quickly across the wide, dusty room. “Hey, Neil, wait up. I got a question about yesterday’s lesson.”

Satisfied there would be no unauthorized plotting done with the rookie’s nosey eyes on them, Kenn ran a hand over his neck-length black hair. “Next?”

 It took the camp nearly an hour to get everything inside and set up. Dozens of lanterns gave the spacious room a dim, flickering light and a harsh odor that Adrian knew wouldn’t mix well with the other smells they would create. He hung smoke detectors, air-fresheners, and signs requesting that the bathroom doors be kept closed, then headed to the basement while the camp ate lunch and picked out their sleeping areas - women and kids away from the doors and windows.

Adrian waved a hand at Kyle, and the stocky Eagle fell in step. The two men kept their eyes open as they moved down the long, dark hall, flashlights on their belts casting eerie shadows.

“You been back out since we got here?”

 “Few minutes ago. Looks like snow moving in from the South. Temperature’s dropping fast,” Kyle wasn’t exactly gunning for the Marine, but he’d never trust him, never be one of his many supporters. He liked it that Kenn had been behind the 8 ball, even if only for a few hours. “Don’t think it’ll hold till dark.”

“It won’t matter, if Kenn can get the lights and heat on.”

Adrian’s words were still hanging in the chilly air when a deep rumble started under their feet, rattling the whole building. It grew steadily louder, drawing yells as dust began to fly from vents, and then changed to a long, loud hiss that died out gradually. There were a few seconds of tense silence and Adrian waited in the darkness with his hand on his holster as he listened to the unease of his herd.

The rumbling came again, much quieter this time, and the two males got moving, grinning when the dusty bulbs overhead flickered halfheartedly, then began to glow, bright and beautiful. They now had electricity.

   A hearty cheer went through the bowling alley, echoing to Kenn and Neil, who had heard voices in the dark and drawn their guns. No one else was allowed down here. Relaxing when Adrian and Kyle came into view, Kenn flipped a switch as he reholstered, killing the lights and drawing a loud moan of protest from upstairs.

“What about heat?”

The Marine smothered a curse, wiping sweat from his eye. “Our cords aren’t strong enough. We need something heavy duty. After that, should just be a matter of bleeding out the system. We’ll have to make sure all the outside vents and ducts stay clear.”

To Kenn’s pleasure, Adrian wrote it down and the two guards watched jealously.

“We passed a big laundromat on the way in. Wouldn’t they have the industrials?”

Kenn was glad it had been Kyle, and not Neil, who made the suggestion. He and the mobster got along better now - handling Leon together had helped - but he couldn’t make peace with the state cop at all, and he had officially given up trying.