The Survivors: Book One (65 page)

Her face was pale as she forced her lips to curve into an inviting smile. “Do you have a woman or family here?”

Rick shook his head again, thinking Cesar would be very pleased with how easy this was going to happen. “No.”

She smiled again, and he felt his body respond, the blood and bruises indeed a turn-on for him. That was another reason he’d stayed. Here, a man was allowed to be just that: a man.

“Do they let you come and go?”

“Sometimes,” he said absently, staring at her platinum hair and pale blue-and-black eyes with a hot gaze that hid a scheming, evaluating male mind. “Sometimes I have a guard.”

Rick gave a slight wince he made sure she saw. “I got away once,” his voice lowered to a mutter. “Haven’t tried in a long time, now.”

Very aware of the dim daylight fading fast, Samantha ran a hand up his arm, letting her shirt fall open. “You like women?”

His eyes were full of want, mind full of control. It was all part of the plan, and he’d done it enough to know he had already succeeded. He was numb to the guilt as he worked her. “Hell, yeah.”

“Wanna touch?”

Rick’s breath was coming short. He did want her - unlike the other females, who cried too much and cowered - and he broke Cesar’s first rule: don’t touch until the deal is done.

Samantha was unprepared for the bolt of lust his gentle hands drew. When she arched into his caress, to her shame, it wasn’t completely faked. She smiled, deeper this time, with obvious meaning. “Wanna do more?”

His hands slid down her bony hips and she pulled back, closing her torn top as best she could. “Then get us out of here…and I’ll be your slave.”

Rick’s eyes narrowed, hands lowering in mock fear. “He’ll kill us.”

She defiantly held his gaze. “We’re white. He’s gonna do that anyway.”

There was a lot of truth to the statement, and she leaned against him, sensing growing weakness. “It’ll be great. Just the two of us and you’ll never be alone.”

His eyes darkened, and his words surprised her even though it was what she wanted to hear. “It’ll have to be fast and while they’re drinking. Be ready.”

4

“She went for it already?”

Rick told him everything word for word, as he always did, trying not to let the Slaver’s rank odors blow over his scruffy face as they stood just out of sight of the tent Samantha was in.

“She is smart. Talk to her only a little. Sneak out on one of the twins’ horses.” Cesar fingered the handle of the knife in his belt as the light, cool wind blew by them. “You will contact me in two weeks. If you do not…”

The Mexican let his words trail off, and Rick gave in with no fight, shame not even in the picture anymore. “You’ll have what you want, just like in Trinidad and Boulder. This plan always works.”

Cesar met his eye with a cruel sneer. “And what reward do you ask, White man, for betraying your people? Again.”

 Rick didn’t deny or even flinch, didn’t feel anything at the jab. They were not his people anymore. They hadn’t been since the War. “The woman, until I’m tired of her.”

Cesar’s dark eyes narrowed. “There are no white unions here!”

“Not a union.
My
slave.”

Scowling, Cesar slammed his deformed hand on top of his dirty sombrero to keep a gust of wind from stealing it. “If there were to be a child, it would be killed.”

Rick’s eyes were hard as he snorted. “I want her, not some screaming shit machine. If she comes up pregnant, I’ll make it go away.”

Cesar didn’t doubt the tone. “Deal. Don’t forget. Two weeks and you will deliver this Safe Haven to me.”

5

“You two will follow. Make sure your Witch is with them. We’ll be along,” Cesar ordered quietly, watching Rick go back to the white woman.

The twins hovered in the shadows, eager to do as instructed, so they could be sure she was indeed what they’d said. The tracks from the school might have led them to her, but the twins had lost them in a sewer drain, and hadn’t been able to find the tracks again, despite checking exits for hours.

The weeks that had gone by had made them doubt themselves, and if she wasn’t what they’d thought, then they would just keep going. Cesar had already put a lot of time and effort into this now. He’d made strong plans based around the control of such a power, and to be denied, would mean someone's life. It was a big risk they were taking - knowing they’d likely be caught and killed in the future if they had to run - but the need for revenge on the woman and her protector was undeniable. And if she was what they thought, then they would gain something any man would risk his life for. Complete control.

Now feeling on top of what could be a future problem, Cesar watched them go. First, the twins as they left to hide and follow, and then Rick and the woman, sneaking through the shadows. He had no doubts the traitor would contact him. The men here had no rules, no chores, just sex and drinking, with killing thrown in for fun. It was the real American dream, Cesar thought, gold tooth gleaming as he grinned cruelly. His dream, and he’d kill any group that tried to change things back. America was in for a long storm season.

Chapter Thirty Five

March 30
^th
, 2013

Near Chadron, Nebraska

1

“
We are an American Red Cross Convoy picking up survivors. We offer food, shelter, medical care and protection. Does anyone copy?”

“We hear you, Safe Haven! We’re in Hot Springs. We’re out of food. Are you close?”

The man’s voice that answered was different from the one they’d been hearing regularly for the last week, and Marc and Angela both stopped cleaning up their late lunch to listen to the conversation. It was nearly three o’clock, and they needed to get moving again, but the waves of authority from that voice were impossible to ignore. To Marc's ears, he sounded military.

“
Close enough. How many people?”

“Twelve. Two are sick. We don’t know what it is.”

“That’s a lie,” Angela stated, able to hear it, read it, in the woman’s shaky voice.

“We offer help to everyone, sick or not. Do you know Morse or phonetic code?”

“I know both, but go slow, it’s been a while.”

“You an ex-sailor by any chance, Hot Water?”

The surprise was clear in her voice
, “Nancy, and yes, for seven years. How’d you know that?”

The Safe Haven man’s tone was laced lightly with a comforting humor,
“Because of the slight edge of dislike in your words. Marines and Navy didn’t usually mix.”

“No Sir, they didn’t.”

“They do now. We’re all soldiers in the same fight for survival. Take down this message.”

“He tells his men that too,” Angela muttered, listening in more ways than one.

The taps came slowly enough for Angela - who’d been learning the code from Marc - to understand, and she frowned deeper. “They’re in the Black Hills. That’s only one day from us.”

Over the hood, Marc's eyes locked onto hers, the words silent and full of longing,
"I want more time."

"Me too."

"Can’t we?"

Silence…

Two days would be All Fools’ Day. Was it an omen?

Marc frowned. “You all right?”

Angela stared at the vast field of corn that ran as far as the eye could see on both sides. They were only about five miles from the Nebraska-South Dakota state line, where there were barbed wire fences and grass struggling to survive along the side of the road, but no trees. Except for a faded red barn with a tall, blue grain silo on one side, there was only corn here.

“Angie?” She turned to look at him, and Marc hated to see the fear in her eyes. It hadn’t been there much in the last weeks, she had worked hard to overcome her weaknesses, and he was still amazed by how fast she’d done it. “You could call now. Talk to your boy.”

Angela shook her head, pushing the fear back as her mother’s heart spewed awful words at the refusal. “I don’t want Kenn to know how close we are.”

She turned away with a sigh. “And we need to talk, Brady, about what happens when we get there.”

Marc straightened up, heart thumping. “After we make camp tonight?”

“Let’s stay here. Meet up with them in the next few days,” she stated quietly, eyes wandering over large circles of charred dirt that reminded her of the empty silo holes they’d seen in middle Nebraska.

Marc’s frown grew. They had just covered three hundred miles in nine days, driving continuously. Last night, he’d had to insist they rest and get ready to face whatever was coming. They had only made one long stop to replace his Blazer (again they were identical, the only one they had found was the exact match to hers. Fate…), and she had been pushing them hard to get here. Now she was hanging back. Nerves?

“Are you sure? We could be there by dusk tomorrow.”

“No. It’s already been ninety eight days. A few more won’t matter.”

Marc took a step toward her. “You can’t put it off, Honey. Just face it, and we’ll go from there.”

Angela watched Dog patrol the edges of the shoulder-high corn, knowing she had to let him in on what she was feeling, thinking. “I’m not avoiding, but I am nervous. I’m cutting ropes, erasing his hold on me, and he’ll hate it, hate me
for
it. You need to have the details you asked for back in Indiana.”

She met his eye with complete openness. “Will you drill me on the things you’ve taught me, remind me that I can fight back?”

Marc’s heart broke for her. “I think that’s a great idea. You’ve gotten a lot stronger. He won’t know how to handle you.”

2

“Faster. You can handle it.”

Angela pushed the pedal down and the Blazer leapt forward, throwing them back.

“On my mark. Just like before.”

Angela was concentrating, hands and feet connected to the thrum of the engine, the vibrations of the tires.

“Now.”

She turned the wheel, jerking up on the emergency brake, and then they were spinning in the dusty street, seat belts holding them in place.

“Now.”

Gunning the engine, Angela straightened the Blazer out, and it shot forward.

“Again. Seventy this time.”

Angela mashed the gas, emboldened by her repeated successes, and managed to make the emergency turn on her own. She grinned, waved at the line of dirty, faded targets they had come to a stop facing. “Next?”

Marc nodded and made another mistake that would later haunt him. “Loser has dishes!”

Angela took off at his challenge, heading for the distant line of dented soda cans they’d set up. Grinning, distracted by her obvious happiness, Marc gave chase, leaving their nearly identical vehicles in the middle of the street for anyone to see.

Angela was able to match him shot for shot until he moved the cans back so far she could barely see them. After missing half and him missing none, she put her gun away. “That’s not really a challenge for you, is it?”

Marc shrugged, looking at her with shuttered eyes. “Does it matter?”

“Maybe. Kenn’s very good. Go stand by that speed limit sign. I wanna see.”

Their eyes locked for a brief, intense moment. “If you like.”

It was amazing to watch. When she asked him to move farther back, he did it with no comment, just a curious look she chose not to respond to. He was wondering if she was seeing a showdown between him and her man…and she was.

He didn’t miss a single shot, and Angela knew instinctively that this still wasn’t very hard for him. Marc was good. Better than anyone else she’d ever seen, maybe even Kenn, who liked to take her to the range, but not let her shoot. Designed to rub in how defenseless she was, it was yet another reaction that said these two men were worlds apart. Kenn had been her warden, while Marc... He was her protector. He made her feel safe, she realized, watching him reholster his gun and move toward her. He was a good man; one she trusted, cared about…one she still wanted.

Angela smelled him as he stepped by, smoke, sweat, and deep underneath, sexy, musky man. Her nostrils flared, and she inhaled deeply, instinctively, before it was gone. Feeling the restless yearning of her heart, she turned away, suddenly lost and hurting. They’d missed so much!

“You all right?”

It was a question he couldn’t stop asking, and she smiled, looking at a thinner layer of sky grit instead of his handsome face. She could almost see the sun again, but even the good things couldn’t distract her from the fear, the desires. There was no way this would end well. “Just thinking.”

“Care to share?”

She shook her head, not meeting his eyes. “No.”

Marc could feel her unease, her sadness, and he tried one last time to get her to take the easy way out. “Let’s just grab him and go. We’ll find some other people to settle down and rebuild with.”

“I can’t.”