From The Ashes (Life After War) (70 page)

Chapter Twenty

1

“
It's FND.”

Kevin stared in shock, unable to believe the jealousy spiraling through him. He knew who this choice had come from and he even understood why. It was the who and how that he was choking on.

Sitting at a dim picnic table near the couples' tents, Cynthia kept her head down. “I was offered a cruel deal,” she stated miserably. “If that matters to you.”

Kevin didn't think so upon first hearing, but a few seconds of asking himself what he might have dumped
her
for, he couldn't stop himself. “What was it?”

Cynthia looked up with shame and defensive determination. “I get to be her XO for the next runs. Among other things.”

Kevin blinked.
Yes.
He would have ditched her for that chance, too. It was the equivalent of being handed second place on Kyle's infamous team. It didn't stop the want or the frustration, but it did lessen the sting.

“
She said...” Cynthia slammed her mouth shut. What if Angela was wrong?

Kevin was slowly recovering. He'd only stopped by to confirm that their date was still on before he left to catch up with the clearing crew. “What?”

Cynthia was now sure of a rejection either way and she didn't answer. Was all the power really worth hurting him this way? Was it enough to quiet that new loneliness that came with dusk each night?

Kevin studied the reporter, seeing she wasn't happy, but that she planned to follow through. She was an Eagle–a real one, now–and he had no right to stand in the way of that.

Could he wait until she'd served her punishment with Matt? Could he stand watching a romance develop? Kevin wasn't blind to the changes taking place in Safe Haven. Many of the couples that were forming here were lasting pairs. Their sparks, their compatibility, was too rare to miss.

“
I'd like to know what she said.”

Cynthia had expected him to tell her off and storm away long before now. It gave her the courage to answer.

“
She said you'd wait for me.”

Kevin stared at her teary, hopeful eyes, and was pulled into the drama of camp life against his will. If Angela said it, he could trust that, right? “I might.”

Cynthia smiled in surprise. “Really?”

Kevin caught sight of Matt coming from the showers–his second today–and frowned. “I need guidelines, Cynthia. Soon.”

He left without saying anything else and she watched until he faded into the shadows around the parking area. The rest of the clearing crew was heading out. She would miss him being around and that said it was going to be hard for a while, to honor her new duty.

Matt dropped heavily onto the seat next to her, sliding close, and Cynthia sighed unhappily at the frowns of those who saw. She then put on her training face and turned to him with a welcoming smile. “You smell good.”

Matt blushed, pleased, and stared at her in worshipful idolatry. He would sleep in Cynthia's tent tonight, instead of with the livestock.

The teenager's dreamy gaze went to the vehicles disappearing into the darkness and he dropped his head before anyone could see his other face. On that clear, furious facade was glee that Kevin was leaving and an endless hope that the man wouldn't return.

2

Late night fell over Arkansas like a cloud, smothering the dim light and replacing it with the unknown. For most of Safe Haven, that wasn't something to be feared. For the Eagles, it meant limited visibility and depending on the dogs to do their job. Thanks to the wolf, their three dozen workers were constantly roaming the perimeter, becoming more and more aware with each step.

Did these animals understand they would likely be the first to die? That they were the sacrificial lambs between the light and darkness?

Dog would have said no–their brains didn't equate fear to rebellion–but Dog was biased, and missed the signs. It was understandable. The grass didn't whisper when the wolf came by on a round, nor did the wind have advice to give, showing sympathy to their plight. When the wolf came by, there was silence. And since Dog assumed the mutts to be inferior, he didn't consider that the quiet meant they were hiding anything.

Until Adrian rolled away from Safe Haven.

Dog padded around the metal cleaners, tired but proud for his human. Marc was in charge of the herd. How far they had...

“
Join us or die!”

Five of the working dogs, without their red collars, padded out of the shadows to surround him. Their eyes glowed with rage–the kind that always drew blood.

It only took the wolf a second to understand the grave error he'd made, but his reaction didn't change.

“
Traitors!”
Dog lunged for the throat that had given the ultimatum.

“
Brady to the showers!”

“
Copy.” Marc was already on his way there as fast as he could go without panicking the camp. Dog's yelps were awful.

Guards pointed the way, guns in hand. Now out of sight of the herd, Marc ran through the trees and his shadow followed.

Those guarding that area were trying to keep a tight circle around the snarling, rolling mass that had grown to include over half of their working animals.

“
Get off of him!” Marc ordered.

Instead of ignoring or even flinching, their working animals immediately lunged his way.

Marc fired, taking down two of the red-eyed dogs, and then there were three more coming. He was sent back to Nebraska, to killing the wolves.

Bang! Bang-Bang!

The Eagles began firing, picking off dogs that slid from the fighting ball and ran at them. Now that the fight had begun, Nature wanted as many killed as possible.

Marc kicked his steel-toed boot through the teeth of their biggest working dog and then shot it in the head.

Grrr!

Marc spun, but wasn't fast enough to avoid the jaws that clamped down on his wrist.

“
Uggg!”

Marc brought his other hand up and blew a hole through the dog's throat.

Splat!

He slung the gore aside, and stormed into the violently churning pack of enraged animals, as the Eagles did the same. He pulled the triggers of both Colts without remorse. “Betray us! This is what you get!”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Marc wasn't taking any prisoners. Two adrenaline-fueled reloads had the dogs apart, and the Eagles moving in closer, now able to pick out the enemy.

The few survivors quickly fled, running off into the night with enraged howls.

Dog was curled into a tight, bloody ball that didn't crawl from under the corpses of those he'd managed to kill. The other bodies were spread around the wolf in a beautiful, awful circle of skill.

Marc kicked them off, shoving his way to Dog. The wolf still didn't move, and Marc quickly picked him up.

The walk to Chris only took a minute, but Marc couldn't tell if Dog was alive or not. Blood from both of them dripped steadily down his arm as he walked, and the smell of urine was nearly overwhelming. They'd pissed on him during the fight. What the hell had happened?

Chris jerked as Marc slid into his tent, dropping the dart gun through shaking hands.

“
He needs help. Now!”

Chris didn't bother answering, his knobby, hairy legs flying around boxes.

Marc started to put Dog on the floor and Chris jerked a hand toward the bed. “I'll get a new one. Make him comfortable if you can.”

“
I'm not sure if he's...”

“
Don't say that!” Chris snapped. He didn't like the wolf, but he loved animals. “Make yourself useful and get out.”

Chris knelt down by his bed, frowning deeply. “Don't move, Dog. This will stop the pain, and then I'll sew you up.”

There was no response from the bloody wolf, but the vet didn't require one. He was sliding into the zone and words were just a part of the entry ritual.

3

Marc joined the guards, aware of the camp coming out to look around worriedly. He keyed the mic. “Just a flock or herd of something going by triggered the dogs into a fight. As you were.”

Marc's leadership style was different than Adrian's, but still effective. If he had tried to act like the blond, and tell them everything was 5-by, it wouldn't have worked. There was only one Adrian, and they knew it.

“
Hold that hand up,” John ordered, appearing at his side.

Marc didn't argue. He needed both of them for this job.

The Eagles waited for Marc to tell them what to do now that they had a cover-story.

“
Get rid of the bodies–make a fire pit, but don't light it yet. Use some of that dead brush. The camp doesn't need to know yet,” Marc told them as John stuck a needle into his arm.

He was running through all the possible scenarios–again, Adrian was quicker, but he'd been in charge of the camp for months. Marc's next words eased any lingering doubt about Brady being put in charge.

“
I want balloons and the boric acid we found in Hutchinson.” Marc waved more men to him with his free hand. “Fill the balloons and bring them in crates and buckets to the perimeter. We'll pop those buckets and crates with shotguns if we have any uninvited guests.”

The image of a poison cloud greeting the surviving dogs was enough to make Eagles fall eagerly into the chore.

“
Keep reminding them to sweep low and high, and someone check in with the clearing crew–make sure they're alert,” Marc handed out the final details with relief. He'd sent the call out to Angela as soon as it started.

Samantha came to Marc's side with damp hair. She'd been in the shower and hadn't heard anything over the water. She also hadn't sensed it. Her mind had been full of the thoughts she only allowed free when she needed a quick release. That had been interrupted by Peggy bringing in one of the kids who'd soiled herself.

“
What can I do?”

Marc thought he had it covered, as much as he could, and forgot to soften his words. “Whatever you were before.”

Stung, Sam turned for the Mess. Maybe she'd have that drink now, instead.

Marc felt the error, but didn't call her back. He would stop by her tent on rounds and explain it. Right now, if there was nothing else... Marc ran through it all one more time and then let himself go to Chris.

The vet was standing outside the tent, eyeing the cages around him with concern.

Marc saw the glaze of hatred, the promises of blood in beady eyes, and understood the vet was busy accepting that the animals he loved so much–loathed him.

Marc ducked into the smelly tent and went to his friend. Covered in bandages, it was easier to see the wolf's big body rise and fall, confirming that he was alive.

Marc's hand was gentle as he stroked the wolf's fur.

Dog whimpered, trying to nudge his fingers.

Marc begged, breaking his rules. “Please!”

Dog stiffened, whimpering again, and Marc dug deeper.

“
Just this once,” he whispered. “Please.”

“
And what will you give?”

Marc cringed at the voice he'd locked away long before meeting Angie. He'd expected it to be hard to reach.

“
What would you give in return?”
that bitter voice demanded.

“
A lot.”

The demon, cold and angry, revealed the price with glee.
“We'd be there when you take her, Marcus. We'd feel her surrender, too!”

The wolf's body went slack under his fingers, and Marc broke. “Yes.”

Blinding blue light filled the tent, shining through the cracks and shooting through the cloth like it wasn't even there. A cloud of it settled over the wolf and slowly sank in.

“
I'm sorry, baby-cakes,” Marc whispered. “I owe him.”

“
I can help there, too,”
the demon was blunt.
“I know what she needs, and it isn't you.”

Marc had refused to be who he really was all of his life. Mother Brady had beaten it into him from the earliest years, until he denied the very existence of his gifts. That wasn't going to change overnight. “No. Go away.”