Life After War: Books 1-3 Read online

  "This is Safe Haven Refugee Camp. Can anyone hear me?

  “Hello? Is anyone out there?”

  Dear Reader,

  If you are new to my work, you should know that I try very hard to swing away from what everyone else is doing, and I have a slight… obsession with the end of the world as we know it. I prefer original ideas and surprise scenes, not seen before. (Pun intended.) Some of those will be violent, graphic, or mature in nature, I promise. I do not suggest readers younger than 18 be allowed access.

  Now that we’ve gotten to know each other a bit, please allow me to take you on a trip through a world none of us has ever known. Try to imagine…

  … fated to lead New America, seven extraordinarily gifted people survive a nuclear apocalypse, only to find themselves on a cross country quest that will shake the very core of who they thought they were. These long-denied descendants are destined to rebuild their country, their world...if they can stay alive long enough to find each other.

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  *Flipping to the back for a 2 page outline of the main characters is recommended, but not necessary.

  Life After War

  Books 1-3

  By

  Angela White

  New Edition © 2012

  Edited by Kim Fillmore

  Beta-read by Sharon, Dana & Diane

  All rights reserved

  Angela White © 1991

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Standard Copyright laws apply. Made in the United States.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  This is the Way…

  The Storm Tracker

  The Marine

  The Mother and the Magic

  The Father

  The Enemy

  The Hero

  Right Place

  Mercy and Death

  Hard Goodbyes

  Dangerous Secrets

  The Doctor

  Guns and Magic

  No Pain, No Gain

  Birds of a Feather

  Dreams & Schemes

  Book Two

  Hard New World

  The Castaway

  Cabin Fever

  Once a Liar…

  Paradise

  Self Defense

  True Grit

  Close Call

  Night Ride

  Coastlines

  Hard Days

  The Devil & his Minions

  Success and Failure

  Fame and Fortune

  Broken Bridges

  Rude Awakenings

  Old Wounds

  Wrong Place

  Fire and Desire

  Close A

  Book Three

  Heat Waves

  Reunited

  Secrets Revealed

  Safe Haven

  Faces & Places

  Dark Revelations

  A Trooper's Welcome

  Testing…

  Right On Target

  Past Demons

  Pawns and Plans

  A Man Down

  Close B

  Dear Reader

  Extras

  Nuclear

  Ashes to ashes

  Dust to dust

  We conquered this land

  Now keep it, we must

  By any means, wrong or just

  How? A weapon

  Full of arrogance

  We helped it evolve

  Working equations

  Man wasn’t meant to solve

  Envisioned for defense

  Created to cause massive death

  We call it security, safety

  But of that, there’s little left

  Now, the whole world suffers

  No one in control

  For money and power

  We’ve lost our souls

  Ashes to ashes

  Dust to dust

  We’ve destroyed our land

  Now watch it rust

  -A.W.

  Prologue

  Like most days now, the sound of the ocean haunts me.

  My name is Angela. I'm a mother, doctor, soldier, and now, in the year 2017, I've become a leader of men. Thanks to the end of our world to nuclear war, I'm the Guardian of an American refugee camp named Safe Haven.

  Surrounded by carefully watching guards, I sit beside the immense Pacific Ocean as my people work and play nearby, confident my Army will look after them while I tell you about the War of 2012…and how we were forced to leave our beloved Country. It was a nightmare from which we couldn't wake. Some of us still haven't, and soon, we'll be at the water's mercy again. In less than two months, we're going home.

  America waits for us to reclaim and to rebuild, but mostly, simply, for us to return. Before we undertake that perilous journey, I have to get the 357 souls here ready for the trip, and I only know one way it can be done - Adrian has to come back, and lead us home, as he promised.

  Adrian… That incredibly patriotic man has been exiled, even though he’s the only reason that we survived. His secret was the only excuse the camp needed to turn on him, but I won't. I can't. I swore myself to him the same as the rest of his Council, and like them, I still believe.

  I’ve gotten way ahead of myself, far beyond the beginning, when our future didn’t look as good is it does now. Most people here in New America won’t talk about the War or the long, ugly journey we made together. They say the memories have faded, but I know a lie when I hear one. Some horrors you never forget. Like our final battle with Cesar and his large band of ruthless Mexican guerillas.

  It's been five years, but I still see the deep red streams of blood running down rain-soaked trees. I still smell men burning alive in their metal coffins. I dream of it sometimes: of the cold, wet night when I was the bait, and I'm sure Adrian does, too. It was the moment we knew our people would live - because of one man’s dream and his lies.

  From the very beginning, Adrian kept us alive, gave us everything he had - and he always did what was best for the camp, no matter what it cost him personally. He taught us to be stronger than we thought we could be, to look out for each other, and ourselves, and through it all… he lied by omission, knowing these scared, hurting survivors would never have trusted him, would never have given him a chance, if they had known who he really was.

  We came a long way together in the year after the War, over thousands of miles of heartbreaking devastation, and it hurts those of us who remain loyal to see him accept their unfair judgment without a fight. It makes everything we went through seem less important than it was, weakens the magic somehow, and I can’t allow that.

  I’ve been seeing open doors again, and that sly ocean cautions me, says the return trip will be just as hard as the one we undertook to get here. If there’s a storm headed toward the flock, it’s our Shepherd we’ll need to see us through it.

  So, for Adrian and for those of us standing by him, still ready to die for him, and for the dreams he made me believe in from almost the first minute I set foot in his Refugee camp, I will tell our story and leave nothing out. Maybe then these people will realize what he did for our country, accept how much we owe, and allow him to reclaim what’s rightfully his. Us.

  Before I tell you about our harsh, ugly journey, let me show you what happened on that day, what they did to us and what we did to each other. This is how America’s story of survival began…

  Chapter One

  December 21st, 2012

  "I did it for my country, because my country would not do it for herself." -A former President of these United States, just minutes before dying from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

  1

  “This i
s a joke, right? One of Clancy’s gags?”

  When no one spoke, the President dropped his eyes back to the paper he’d been given to read, wishing he’d surrounded himself with more experienced people. He had no idea what came next. It wasn’t something he’d planned to conquer during his time in office.

  “Where do I give the speech?”

  Carter had discovered a love of talking to his people but Ben Seiling, Deputy Chief of Staff, gestured to the radio he used for the weekly addresses. “In here. It’s not safe in public. The rioting started an hour ago in most places and it’s spreading faster than we can keep up with.”

  “No cameras? Press?”

  Ben’s scowl was huge as he shook his head. “No. We already have two security tapes missing. No reporters, no questions. Too many will already suspect the truth.”

  Carter gave a jerky nod. The usually confident man was almost speechless, unable to imagine how his country would react, and he slid behind the impressive desk, for once without reminding himself that it was his. Dark hand hesitating, he looked up.

  “We’re sure?”

  Ben’s curt nod confirmed it, but the sheer number of Secret Service Agents roving the halls of the West Wing, filling his Oval Office, was what drove it in. As he had the thought, three more uniformed men came in from the doors that led out to the Rose Garden, eyes full of excitement and a touch of fear that wasn’t comforting.

  “Yes. They’ll take you and your family out, as soon as you’re done. The Vice President and Joint Chiefs will be in the air shortly, headed for the Essex Compound.”

  The President flinched as two shots rang out in quick succession somewhere close by, and his eyes went to the damning newspaper lying on the spotless desk.

  Betrayal and Lies are the Foundation of American Politics!

  The Gospel of Mary was discovered in Southern France last month and has now been proven genuine by experts secretly asked to test the parchments. In them, is a tale of murder, extortion, kidnapping, and forced reproduction that scientists claim have kept secret the descendants of Jesus Christ. The list of powerful families around the globe accused is staggering…1

  Carter gestured to the newspaper. Tomorrow’s edition; he was positive he didn’t want to know how it had been obtained. “How did they find out?”

  “We’re not sure. An old manuscript was discovered last year and set for testing. One of the experts took a large payment. A local station is set to run the story tomorrow morning.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Exactly.”

  The first term President stared at the Seal, the desk, the walls. These things had been his and he had done justice to them where he could, but this? It was beyond his control.

  He hadn’t quite believed it when he’d first been informed of the file known only as ">DOC"2 but it hadn’t taken him long to understand how much the world would change if the public suspected the massive secret the Freemasons had been keeping all these years. The days of government rule would be long...

  Ben drew him back to reality. “Mr. President, please.”

  Breaking into a sweat and not caring that he was ruining a very expensive suit, Carter stared at the small sea of white faces, now hearing heavy stomps above them which could only be agents in the Residence.

  Ben, perhaps reading some of his thoughts, shook his head. “These men have no families to rescue, have been paid well in gold and passes - and all of them voted for you. No deserters here. You and your family will make it to NORAD, safe and sound.”

  Only slightly reassured, America’s beloved President looked over what might be his last address with worry burning intensely in his heart. He glanced over the pages at the impatient Deputy Chief of Staff. “You’ll start the sirens?”

  Ben nodded again, both of them looking up as the ceiling lights changed to a pale red.

  “Yes, as soon as you’re on your way, now please, you have to go. D.C. is a direct target.”

  Carter still delayed, hating it that he was being rushed, wasn’t being told everything. “What about air traffic and vital services?”

  The Deputy’s lined face went blank, and the President felt his heart leap at the tone that implied it didn’t matter.

  “They’ve been instructed to land them anywhere they can so Star Wars doesn’t shoot anymore down by mistake. Last report said four confirmed crashes, two more suspected. Mr. President, we have to...”

  “What about the vitals? Evacuations?”

  Ben sighed in frustration, knowing the President would have his report before he did anything. The black man could be pushed, but it had to be gently. He was one of the few politicians of this generation that seemed to care about his people.

  “The 'net is locked down; only our senior military have the codes needed to access it. As for EVACs, those on the lists are 35% recovered at this point. Ahead of schedule.”

  “And vitals?” Carter insisted, knowing it was ugly. In the answer, he heard the same terror and anxiety he felt in his own stomach.

  “We have reports of massive abandonment of posts already. Media stations in France and China are on it. Daycares, schools, hospitals, radar and traffic towers, police stations, utility plants; it’s all going to shut down. They’ll have nothing to depend on, no way to survive after the first few months.” The Deputy’s voice lowered. “The Draft convoys started out half an hour ago. Waves of refugees in the hundreds have been spotted hitting towns ahead of the trucks. Some of those places are attempting to barricade themselves in. The men will follow orders.”

  The President winced. He’d been briefed, but he hadn’t really thought they would do this to their own...

  “Carter.”

  It was the first time the Deputy Chief of Staff had ever called him by his first name and to do it here, in this hallowed place, was such a transgression of protocol that it got his full attention. This was the strategy that smarter men than he had agreed upon, and after, when it was time to come back up, he would still be in charge. The US Presidency was not allowed to change hands during a time of war unless there was a death.

  “We’re using the rest of our arsenal? Retaliating, even though we caused it?”

  Ben motioned for one of the impatient, heavily armed agents to grab the tapes and hidden microphone from the desk. “It’s all under way.”

  Carter’s dark finger pushed the button, not asking how that was possible without his approval. He’d learned a lot about leadership in the last few years and one of the biggest was that you didn’t ask questions unless you could take the answers. Stomach churning, voice stunned, he began.

  “My fellow Americans, this is your President, Carter Heins, and I have grave news. Let me start by asking each of you to care for and comfort each other in this time of crisis, and we’ll get through it. Together,” he lied, ignoring the man waving at him to skip what didn’t matter; just tell his people that the entire world was about to change violently and forever.

  “At 10:28 this morning, a terrorist was able to gain access to our nuclear arsenal by hacking into the system and introducing an unknown virus that shut down our firewalls and allowed NORAD’s computers to be breached. As a result, control of over half of our defensive warheads were compromised. The terrorists immediately initiated multiple launches and the warheads are not responding to specific abort codes. Ten minutes ago, these stolen weapons began reaching their targets, and other countries have retaliated, thinking we’ve declared War.” the President paused, couldn’t believe he was saying this, and heard a silent country holding its breath, listening, looking for comfort that he couldn’t give.

  “We predict that the United States will take at least five nuclear hits. Cities expected to be destroyed include Washington D.C., Houston, Texas, Lansing, Michigan, New York City, and Los Angeles.”

  Noise levels instantly went up throughout the White House, and outside, more gunshots destroyed the silence. Loud and rapid, they should have drawn immediate attention. When they didn’t, the Presid
ent understood then that it was really happening, was positive he’d be the last man to sit here. Gunfire in the capital and the agents in the room hadn’t even blinked. It wasn’t a tasteless joke. The world was ending.

  “I’m declaring martial law nationwide, effective immediately. The curfew is an hour before sunset. Looters will be dealt with harshly. Our southern border has been closed, all air traffic has been grounded, and prices are frozen across the board.” He hesitated again, drew in a deep breath. “I’ve also reinstated the Draft, effective as of 11:00 A.M. this morning. All males, ages 16-45, will surrender to the convoys of trucks on their way from bases across the country. People who refuse, flee, or follow, will be considered treasonous and dealt with accordingly. Stay in your homes, do what the soldiers tell you, and pray for your country. God bless you and God bless the United…”

  He was jerked out of the seat at a nod from Ben and the President stopped struggling as they rushed him outside, panic roaring from the streets.

  “Warning! Incoming!”

  The lawn speakers blared behind them and Carter couldn’t take his eyes from the red and orange blur that he could just make out against the glare of the December sun. It was too late. They weren’t going to make it!

  The agents literally threw him onto the chopper, and the President huddled with his pale wife and twin boys as Marine One quickly rose into the air. As it ascended, its huge blades were assaulted with rocks, shoes, briefcases, and cell phones that doomed citizens threw in fury.

  The guards opened fire suddenly as a mob overwhelmed the iron gates and rushed across the White House lawn. Blood splattered, bodies fell, and then they were flying through the beautiful, sunny sky, watching out the windows as the warhead barreled toward the American capitol, leaving a trail of fiery smoke.

  “Look, Daddy! Fireworks!”

  The explosion was staggering, blinding, and Carter kissed his wife’s tear stained lips one last time as the shock wave caught up to them and brought the chopper down. There were no survivors.