Read From The Ashes (Life After War) Online

Authors: Angela White

Tags: #survival fiction, #fantasy series, #apocalypse story, #angela white, #new fantasy book, #life after war, #magical fantasy, #from the ashes

From The Ashes (Life After War) (17 page)

Vaguely aware of Angie’s gaze running over him, Marc was doing his own silent check-ins. He was becoming Adrian’s go-to man, and the Eagles wanted him to challenge Kenn for the XO slot.

Picking out an unguarded corner, Marc motioned to Tucker, who immediately covered it. Marc wondered vaguely where the rookie’s fresh bruises had come from.

Finally feeling more comfortable with the authority Adrian that was insisting on giving her, Angela keyed her mic. “Man on Point to the parking area.”


Copy.”

Marc understood she wanted Neil to know who had that spot, even if it was temporary. She was still worried. Why else would she personally be concerned with their security? She was only a high Level One, though if she wasn't injured Marc was sure she would pass her tests. As it was, she wouldn't be taking them with other Eagles this time. John had already ruled it out.


It’s part of my job now, Brady.” Angela steadied her legs and ignored her shoulder. “I haven’t picked up anything new–just being careful.”


Okay.” Marc was bothered by it, though. He had hoped there might be some downtime for her, time they could spend together, but it didn’t appear that fate was going to give them much of it.

The camp was eerily quiet as they reached the Mess, full of a respectful awe that one of them found embarrassing. The other thought she could become addicted to it.

The entire camp had been draped with black crepe paper and every camp member she saw was wearing black clothing to show their respect. Even the table covers in the Mess were dark, and Angela felt her heart swell with renewed love for them all. The Eagles hadn’t done this, and neither had Adrian or his pets among the women. This was the camp telling the Eagles that they were wanted, that when they gave their lives, the herd wouldn't just keep grazing–they would be remembered.

Seeing that Sam wasn’t at the Mess, Angela continued to the empty center table amid a resounding cheer. As she neared it, subtly grabbing the edge for support, the camp members who were there surrounded her.

Marc uneasily let himself be edged away. With a quick glance at the two snipers on the area, he hovered along the far wall and waited for her to be done.

Watching them, Marc understood that if he agreed to fight for Kenn’s place, these people would love him that strongly, too. It was heavy information to carry around and not act on because he now knew the way to Angela’s continued affections was through these people. If he did big things for them, she would want him more, and he was wise enough to know it wouldn’t be right to use her emotions that way. He also knew that all was fair in love and war, and this was both.

Angela let the camp run on for a long minute, understanding they needed it, but she didn’t give them much in the way of conversation. The services were about to start. On the hilltop behind Safe Haven, the lines of torch-bearing Eagles were providing escorts through the darkness. Three of their men were waiting up there, about to become a part of this apocalyptic landscape forever.

The camp members sensed the sorrow and fell silent, moved back. They hadn’t been there, didn’t know exactly how their men had died, but she did, and it was haunting. She would never view another battle scene the same way.

She glanced at Marc.
“I’m ready.”

The silent words brought him to her side, and Angela allowed herself to clasp his bare arm for support as they walked from under the canopy.

Marc sucked in a tight breath at the contact, need surging for an instant. Even in a moment of sadness, he wanted her.

Angela slowly led them toward the hill, shoulder already throbbing. With so many moving torches, the steep incline head of them appeared to be on fire with tiny, rolling flames.


This is such a hard new life, Brady. We’ll have to do this again.”

Marc knew what she needed. He could give it now. “You’ll save as many of them as you can.”

He felt her shoulders stiffen in determination and was sure that V was standing out in her chin.


Yes, I will.”

He bent down to place a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

Angela smiled happily. It was okay for Marc to show how much he loved her. She was ready for that now.

As they reached the bottom of the hill, Marc noticed the beads of sweat breaking out on her pale skin. He started to ask if she wanted him to push her up in the wheelchair, and caught Cynthia’s motion as she left her post to the next shift of Eagles. The reporter made a gesture that got Marc’s heart thumping.

He raised a brow. “
Really?”

Cynthia surprised him by knowing the hand language, using it to answer.


Yes. She’ll love it.”

Marc drew on his courage. If Angela rejected him in public, he would survive. Right now, she wanted to be at the service, and this was the easiest way.

Angela tensed when Marc’s hands went around her, under her, but she didn’t protest the gentle move from the ground into his strong arms. He tucked her close and advanced, cushioning her body from the jarring climb.

The pain of remaining straight subsided, and Angela rested her cheek on his shoulder. “Mmm... Thank you, Brady.”

Marc was bathed in soothing light. He had Angie, a son that he was bonding with more every day, and a set place in the chain of command. Life, for him, was amazing.

 

7

At the top of the incline, the camp was gathering. The countryside below was mired in darkness and fog, but the hill was alive with light as the torch-bearing Eagles escorted people. Three ornate boxes with intricately carved gravestones met them. All that remained was to actually put the coffins into the ground.

As they waited, the camp was a mix of relieved, angry, and triumphant expressions behind thick lines of deeply mourning Eagles. Losing three of their own made the threat of death more real to the men serving as Safe Haven’s defenders, but it also brought a satisfying sense of awareness. The Slavers had gotten further into America than any other foreign army ever had. They’d tormented people through thirteen states–more than two thousand miles of towns and cities conquered–and the Eagles had eliminated them.

Adrian stood in front of the caskets, his profile a mask of respectful sorrow. He and the others were in full mission gear. Standing together, it gave a sense of them being a private society inside Safe Haven. The camp didn't truly understand, but it was clear that the Eagles were different, stronger.

Unlike funerals of the past, where words took up most of the service, the ceremony now consisted of only a single sentence. Adrian slowly raised his torch as long, brilliantly stitched flags were draped over the coffins. “It was our honor to serve with you.”

Behind him, the Eagles did the same, torches rising, lips repeating. Some of the camp members did the same, but most were aware that they didn’t really belong to this other hard group. They were only glad that the dark intelligence of Adrian and his Eagles was on their side.

Zack broke the respectful silence. “Escort duty, one o’clock. Teams Two and Three.”

His own team, and Kevin’s, rushed to surround Angela as Marc carefully put her on her feet.

Angela didn’t thank her honor guard, too emotional to respond normally. Days ago, she’d talked to the men in those coffins, trained with them. It was hurtful to think she’d never hear Chris’s jokes or Daniel’s laugh, never argue with Frank again.

Angela stepped to the coffins and closed her eyes. “It was my honor.”

As she stood there, two more darkly-dressed people came through her guard, not giving the senior men time to refuse.

Cynthia and Sam flanked Angela, ignoring the mutters. It was their first plan handled together–even if reluctantly agreed upon with hand gestures and glares–and Adrian noticed.

His Eagles wore many expressions in response to the open declaration, but when the two rookies only stood guard, the men allowed it. Those who knew of the coming power shift expected these females to eventually be to Angela, what Kenn and Kyle were to Adrian.

As Angela left, her rookies stayed close.

Walking on the right flank, Samantha was aware of how powerful the sensation was. She was also aware of the fear. Not of failing, but of losing this when the camp found out who she’d been. She and Adrian had the same secrets, though she was sure his would destroy these people. The camp had complete faith in him now that he'd delivered them from every threat to cross Safe Haven’s path. To find out that he’d been a part of the danger from the very beginning would be a blow they wouldn’t recover from. The storm tracker was desperately trying to find a way to keep it hidden.

On the other side of Angela, Cynthia was concentrating, doing her duty. They hadn’t gotten any training yet, only the rookie gear and a slot in the tryouts, but the reporter wasn’t worried about being able to do it. This wasn’t like babysitting someone’s kids. This was keeping the wolves at bay while Adrian and Angela rebuilt their country. It was worth getting dirty for.

Slowing as the ache sank deeper into her shoulder, Angela pondered the differences in the thoughts of the two females openly demonstrating their loyalty to her and to Adrian's dream. One selfish but good, the other riding both of those lines, each would be strong examples for the camp. There would be times of chaos, Angela didn’t doubt it, but she was also sure there would be moments of stunning glory, and she couldn’t wait to start teaching them to be Eagles…
hers!

Marc trailed the three women, observing guards and camp members. It should have felt wrong to be left in the rear, but he was smart enough to know that he was witnessing one of the proudest moments of Angela’s life. There was no mistaking the happiness flowing from her, reaching out to calm those she passed.

No longer fighting the pull, Marc sent out his own wave of light, like he had with Cynthia when she'd come from Adrian's arms. Angie wanted the camp settled down so that the mission teams could do the same. He would help.

 

8

Kyle and Jennifer made the short walk from the medical camper with slow steps. She'd just found out that she wasn't having one child–twins, at least, were in store for her. John wasn't sure exactly how many heartbeats he'd heard.

Aware of Eagles and camp members watching them, Kyle still couldn't stop stealing glances at Jennifer. In his robe, she was all soft brown hair and pale white skin that smelled even better than Angela's vanilla.

Across the QZ, a group of former slaves were talking with camp women lingering on the other side of the tape. The way their cruel glances went to him and Jennifer repeatedly told him what the topic was. It wouldn't take long for this to get out of hand.

Jennifer, who was picking up the mistrust of the men and the dislike of the women, sent out a wave of distress.

Kyle stopped, turning to her. He waited, dazed, for her order.

Jennifer pulled back, realizing she'd hit him too hard. She was getting more food and energy, and was already stronger.

Now that she wasn't pushing that bright light, Kyle could think again, and it only took a few seconds of replaying his thoughts to discover what had upset her.


You don't have to do that–pull me in that way. I won’t abandon you.”

While she stared at him in concern, Kyle strained to build the mental block that Angela had told him about.

Jennifer slipped into Kyle's mind, needing to know if he meant it, and found a small stack of bricks. He was building a wall against her.
Cute.
He didn't understand, yet, that there was no barrier strong enough to keep her out.

Jennifer dropped her empty water bottle on the ground, and Kyle frowned, stopping.

Jennifer looked at him questioningly, and Kyle glanced toward the slowly burning garbage can they were closest to.

Understanding these people took care of their garbage, Jennifer retrieved the bottle and tossed it into the can. She automatically glanced to Kyle for approval.

Plans and terrible ideas began forming in Kyle's mind–one of which he immediately tested. “Good girl.”

Jennifer smiled at that–not a grin of contentment, but a grimace of familiarity that had Kyle snapping his head toward the tents. She had a weakness–she was conditioned to respond like a slave. He could use that.

But I won't. I'm not like him.


All men are like him,” Jennifer corrected gently, snooping again. “It's why the world fell.”


I'm not. I serve the greater good.”

Kyle ripped his attention from her light. What the hell would Adrian do with this one? Unlike Angela, Jennifer would use her gifts to get what she wanted.


Unless someone takes charge of me...”

Jennifer's voice in his mind was perfectly young and lost.
“I don't want to be bad.”

Kyle was snared, but not for the reasons Jennifer assumed. He heard the evil and responded–it was an echo of his. Adrian had almost passed him by. Kyle had always known and the wound had never healed. What would Adrian do with Jennifer? Would he curb her light until she could control it? Would he recognize her value the way he had Angela's?

That thought was ugly. Jennifer, who'd clearly already been through too much, could be the next female Eagle lying in a deserted warehouse with bullet holes and lighter burns.

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