Inside the rest stop, alarm bells sounded in Angela's mind.

  “He's coming!” she warned.

  Adrian heard his rig roar to life and flung open the bullet-splintered doors of the rest stop.

  “Neil, get the long crate!” he shouted, running toward the parking area to find his semi reaching the end of the concrete parking lot.

  They dragged the crate to the middle of the road, above the abandoned Corvette, and pried it open with Adrian giving fast instructions.

  “Slide that in there and turn it,” he told them, grunting as he struggled to set up the tripod in the wind gusts. “Set it here. Good. Now, make a hole!”

  Adrian hit the trigger and held on as the Gatling gun roared to life. Trees and mud blew apart as he struggled to aim, sending up swarms of bugs, and Neil rushed to help Adrian hold the powerful gun steady.

  The semi hurried towards them, grinding gears as it picked up speed. The bullets traced a path of destruction up the road and finally began to plunge into the rig.

  The windshield shattered as Adrian tilted the gun up and the driver swerved too late. Blood sprayed across the cracked glass.

  Now out of control, the truck continued its run and the Eagles dove out of the way as it smashed into the big gun, hit Cesar's Corvette and jack-knifed.

  Squealing and scraping, the truck crashed violently into the piles of burning wreckage and then burst into a huge orange fireball that raced over the scene like a heat wave.

  Adrian’s Eagles screamed in triumph…and then in warning.

  “Look out!”

  Standing outside the rest stop doors, Angela felt someone behind her and realized at the last minute she wasn’t picking up anything but blackness from their thoughts.

  Fear shoved into her brain and she followed her training, drawing as she spun.

  “If I cannot have you, bruja, neither will they!”

  “Kill him!” Adrian shouted, unable to get a clear shot with Angela in his line of fire.

  Bang!

  “No!”

  Bang!

  Cesar pulled the trigger with an elated sneer of happiness.

  The bullet slammed into Angela’s chest, knocking her backward as she fired. She saw it plunge into his stomach as she hit the mud, and realized he would get a second shot.

  Bang!

  Bang!

  Cesar’s face twisted and the pistol fell from his grip. Around them, the cicadas fell silent.

  Cynthia lowered her new gun as the evil man sank to his knees, blood streaming from his wounds. She had still been inside, forgotten in the chaos. Her bullet had gotten him from the rear, while Adrian hit him from the front.

  I’m one of them now. The reporter didn’t stop the surprised tears as Cesar’s body fell forward and smacked onto the concrete.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Cost of Freedom

  1

  I’ve gotten her killed.

  Adrian’s first thought flew through the Eagles, as well. The sound of running feet echoed like the ominous hoot of an owl.

  Angela fought for breath as blood ran down her shirt, and she slumped backwards, hitting the wet ground. Hands and feet surrounded her, voices raised in panic.

  She gasped as the vest was roughly ripped away, and then shouted hoarsely as strong hands touched her shoulder. She clenched her teeth against the next cry as the agony increased.

  “It went through!”

  “Put pressure on it!”

  Angela wanted to help, but the pain was overwhelming. It lashed brutally across her torso in breathtaking waves.

  “Other side’s pourin’, Boss!”

  “At least it went through there, too,” Adrian grunted at the sight of the ugly injury. “I need heat…lighters! Get the car lighters!”

  Angela knew what the heat was for. She groped out blindly for a hand and found one.

  “It’s okay, baby. You’re okay,” Jeremy tried to comfort, horrified.

  “Harder! Make it seal against your palm,” Adrian told Kyle.

  Angela managed to open her mouth without screaming. “Don’t...let them…leave.”

  “Now.”

  Adrian’s order stopped her from saying more, but they all understood. If she died, Charlie and Marc were to be kept at Safe Haven.

  Kyle rolled her onto his knee, wrapping her up tight. “Hang on, Eagle.”

  Adrian grabbed the first glowing lighter and shoved it against her bloody skin.

  Angela’s chilling shriek hurt the Eagles. Knowing how strong she was, how proud, told them she was in agony to allow them to hear it. One of their own was making that awful sound, and there was nothing they could do except listen.

  Her gasping screams also drew the next threat.

  Before the war, cicadas feasted on the liquid in plants. The males sang, the females clicked their wings, and their weeks of life were spent in a mating frenzy. Harmless for the most part, they were ignored. When the bombs fell, it changed the weather patterns for the entire planet, and the cicadas’ food sources began drying up. The lack of rain in the plains forced millions of these emerging insects to consume what was readily available after the war–blood. In an amazingly short amount of time, the bugs had learned that screams meant food.

  “Get down!” Neil shouted.

  Standing in a tight circle around their injured member, the first horde of cicadas hit the distracted Eagles on the farthest edges and enveloped them in a thick cloud. The insects attacked relentlessly, sharp wings and prickly feet slicing into exposed skin as men batted at them and spun out of line. Above them, another wave circled hungrily.

  “Get inside!” Adrian ordered.

  “Help the others!” Jeremy added.

  Remembering the birds in Utah, Neil hit the air horn on his belt, and the closest bugs immediately recoiled.

  “Use the horns!” Neil shouted, his keeping the cicadas away from Adrian. That man didn’t look up, or stop what he was doing.

  The other Eagles blew their air horns, and it began to overpower the chaos. The cicadas reluctantly retreated under the combined noise, but only as far as the treetops and low sky above them.

  “We need to go!” Seth shouted, dragging dazed men toward the door.

  “Not done yet!” Kyle answered, hand starting to go numb from holding pressure on the pulsing wound. Closing the hole required shoving the glowing metal over only a small portion of her skin at a time, until it burnt it closed. The reek of flesh cooking grew stronger, and Angela’s teeth sank into Kyle’s arm and broke the skin.

  “How long, Boss?” he asked, barely feeling the pain of her clamped jaw.

  “Three more on this side.”

  Angela shuddered under Adrian’s merciless hands.

  “I’m out!” Neil tossed the empty air horn away.

  “Same here!” Zack called.

  Without enough noise to repel them, the insects immediately began swarming back down.

  Angela’s fingers dug into Jeremy’s wrist. “The…Caller. Aahhh!”

  Her body went rigid, and fresh blood pulsed from under Kyle’s hand. He tightened his hold and began to pray, something he hadn’t done since he was a child.

  Jeremy cut the Caller from Angela’s belt and thrust it into Neil’s grip.

  “Get her bag!” Adrian ordered.

  Neil handled the caller like he’d seen her do during the wolf mission, and it lunged to life, trembling eagerly. He swung it hard and high.

  “Buu-buu-buu-buu…”

  Absorbing Angela’s pain, the Caller sent out a low base of thundering vibrations instead of the high-pitched howl they were expecting.

  “Duu-duu-duu…duu!”

  The deeper noise rolled upward and slammed into the oncoming cicadas like a tornado. It blew the neat formation apart, and the cicadas began to fall, pelting the Eagles. When they hit the ground, they didn’t fly back up, but lay there–stunned.

  “Pressure!” Adrian snapped, reaching for the next lighter. He didn’t care about the bugs, only the woman dying in Kyle’s arms.

  The Caller went dark as Neil stopped swinging, and he looked down in time to watch Adrian shove the next glowing lighter against Angela’s back.

  Her teeth snapped together, body arching. Tears spilled over her cheeks in small rivulets, and the knuckles on Jeremy’s wrist turned white from her grip. Her breath hissed out in a low groan that wanted to be a scream as Adrian finally pulled back, and Neil knew he would never forget this moment. Her pain was his.

  Angela’s body sagged, and Adrian threw the gory lighter away in fury. He tore another patch from his shirt and helped lean her against his knee this time. He nodded at Kyle, cloth ready. “Lift.”

  Kyle raised his hand and blanched as fresh blood poured over her chest in crimson ripples.

  Adrian shoved the material into the hole and put Kyle’s palm over it. “I need more heat!”

  Billy dropped the black bag at Adrian’s feet, and then opened it. “Boss.”

  Adrian saw the carefully packaged pouches of blood and allowed himself a small measure of hope. Each was labeled with a name.

  “Neil has Point!” Adrian passed the duty to the trooper without considering–he needed his mind on Angela. If she slipped, he would break the rules and offer his life for hers. He was already lending his strength, but there was little else he could do right now. His gifts weren’t like hers.

  Jeremy motioned half a dozen men forward for perimeter duty, and then went to help Neil, who was grimly gathering more lighters.

  Adrian slapped the blood bag into Kyle’s free hand. “Hold it up.”

  The liquid began rushing into Angela seconds later, and Kyle squeezed the middle of the bag to move it faster. His harsh breathing mirrored hers as they waited in frustration for the lighters, batting away dying cicadas still dropping from the drizzling sky.

  3

  “We need John,” Seth stated the obvious, gun still in hand.

  “Can we roll?” Neil asked, bringing the glowing, sizzling lighters in a charred hubcap.

  “No.” Adrian grabbed one. “Check-in.”

  Angela’s whimper faded to unconsciousness.

  “All clear.”

  “Daniel’s dead. Frank, too,” Billy reported in a carefully controlled timbre. Both men had been near him when they started moving in, but not when they reached the street.

  Sure he had been heard, Billy went to cover a gap in their perimeter.

  “Bag’s almost empty, Boss.” Kyle felt her start to shiver. “Someone give us cover!”

  Zack and a few others hurried to help, stripping their jackets.

  Glad that she wasn’t feeling anything now, Adrian dumped half of a pack of white powder into the small corner of the wound that he’d left unburnt. He quickly shoved the gauze back in and placed Kyle’s hand over the wound. “Five minutes for the clotting agent to work.”

  Kyle shifted against the brick wall. “Slide her over.”

  They carefully placed her in his arms, and the closest Eagles covered them with their jackets.

  Adrian dug through the doctors’ bag and found more labeled bottles. He gave Angela a generous dose of antibiotics and switched to the last pouch of blood with her name on it.

  “Boss…” Kyle’s fear was heavy.

  “Stand your ground,” Adrian replied, but it was more to himself than the mobster. She wasn’t dead yet. He wouldn’t give her up.

  Neil and Jeremy finished moving through the wreckage–using suppressors on survivors to keep from triggering the remaining cicadas clicking unhappily above them–then joined Adrian.

  Adrian made a curt motion. How many?

  It was returned with the same worried expression. Not enough. Short by fifty.

  Adrian’s gut twisted. Along the way, some of the slavers had split off from the main group. Maybe they’d been deserting, but more likely, they had been sent back to attack Safe Haven.

  As Adrian had the thought, headlights glared off the trees, engines swelling.

  Catching up, Adrian realized.

  Overhead, the storm rumbled once in low warning before drenching them again.

  “Get inside!” Adrian ordered. “Everyone inside!”

  There was a fast run to the door, but it was Kyle, with Angela’s bloody body in his arms, who went through first.

  Adrian lined his main sharpshooters up at the shattered windows again, set to hand out more of what they’d already dealt. “On my mark…”

  Headlights flashed dimly against the glare of fires, and those inside the rest stop held still as the remaining Mexicans came in on foot to examine the scene.

  “I want to hear them scream!”

  Adrian’s order was a low snarl of fury.

  The Eagles understood what that would cause and agreed, waiting for his call.

  The Mexicans found their dead leader quickly.

  “Por aquí!” (Over here!)

  “It’s Cesar!”

  “Está muerto?” (Is he dead?)

  “Si.”

  “Check inside.”

  As the enemy moved closer, Adrian made the call. “Now!”

  The Eagles opened fire and bullets went through hands, knees, and nuts in a blaring volley.

  “Aahhhh!”

  Cicadas exploded from the thickets of trees in a hungry frenzy, and swarmed downward. Without a way to repel the insects, the wounded slavers were helpless against the sheer numbers.

  Listening to it was rough for Adrian’s army…until they looked to the back corner, where Kyle was holding Angela. The complete dejection of their highest Eagle was far worse than the sounds of evil being conquered. They kept firing.

  Realizing that Adrian was still inside the rest stop, the surviving slavers fled. In their panic, most of them overlooked the razor wire and met the same fate as their comrades.

  Inside the rest stop, the Eagles also wanted the carnage to end, but there was no denying that they enjoyed some of it. The first battle had moved so fast that few of them had a clear memory of it. Survival was often that way, but this second fight was slower and clearer for the Eagles. To them, it was justice for those hurt and killed during the slavers’ rampage through the United States.

  4

  “We gotta call Marc,” Seth stated as the noises outside fell to only the occasional cry. The odor of blood, of death, hung heavily in the room.

  “I’m sure he’s already rollin’,” Adrian replied. He’d felt it–the moment her life became a part of fate’s swinging scales–and was positive Marc had, too. The sulfur scents of the witch and the smoky vanilla that was Angie had been replaced with a dry heat so thin that it was like a fog in his mind.

  Adrian went to her, snapping on his light.

  “Let’s see.”

  Kyle slowly lifted his hand.

  No fresh blood appeared, and both men were eased a bit. They carefully added another layer of gauze, and then only taped it over three corners of the wound. It would allow her body pressure to adjust and keep her breathing even.

  As they finished, Adrian had the restless men make a bed with dusty cushions from the lounge area, freeing Kyle.

  The mobster joined his team, covered in Angela’s blood. None of them spoke.

  Adrian swept what remained of his confident army. They were battered and bleeding, with curt gestures and unsatisfied demeanors that demanded he fix it. Adrian did the best he could with short words.

  “She’s doing her duty, even now. Do yours.”

  Adrian’s confidence never faltered and it flipped them back into his soldiers. They got to work and tried not to stare at the woman lying deathly still behind them.

  Outside, the bugs fed unopposed.

  “Can’t stay here. It’ll draw predators.” Neil was eager to be gone.

  “We’re not movin’ her.” Kyle wasn’t willing to take the risk.

  “We’ll be fighting Nature next,” Neil warned.

  “Ammo count?” Kyle asked.

  “We went through about half of what we brought,” Jeremy answered.

  “We’re staying,” Kyle chose. He pointed at Zack. “Collect and load our fallen men. Take a crew.”

  Kyle gestured four Eagles to sentry duty and sent two more for sniper watch.

  While they were outside, the Eagles swept the newest battle scene for wounded or hiding slavers, and found none. The cicadas had done a good job.

  Zack took a moment to look around, a bit stunned by the devastation. Cars, trees, and the ground were splattered in dark red–even the puddles appeared to be filled with blood instead of rain. Moving with the wind, smoke rolled along the battlefield like thick fog, covering and then uncovering the bodies to reveal gruesome details. It was amazing–in both good and bad ways–that they had become so lethal under Adrian’s guidance.

  Zack was full of confusion and anger as he helped to put their fallen men in body bags and then load them into the rear of one of their trucks. He could be the one about to go six feet under. How had it come to this? Why were these men dead?

  Inside the rest stop, more than a few of the Eagles were silently asking the same things. It was hard to think about all the hell the slavers had caused in comparison to the total devastation that Adrian’s army had wreaked in only a few hours.

  “It’ll be days before our camp gets word. Will they hold?” Kyle asked, trying to wipe another layer of blood from his hands.

  Chain-smoking by the bullet-ridden door, Adrian responded, “They’ll have to. We’re not finished.”

  “How long will it take the remaining slavers in his camp to figure out that he isn’t coming back?” Jeremy asked worriedly. “How long before they attack Safe Haven without him?”

  “Three, four days at the most.” Adrian ground out his smoke under his boot. “Marc and Kenn have plans to delay it and buy us time.”

  Neil had been studying the map and he spoke up as the tension grew. “There’s a warehouse, a country club, and a manufacturing plant, all within a mile of here.

  “The country club,” Adrian chose, going to the back of the room. He couldn’t stand to leave her alone, though she was unconscious. He knew what that darkness was like–terrifying. “Dope it out. And someone cover those windows. It’ll get cold in here without the glass.”