"I'll treasure it always," Angela joked as he taped the target to the wall. She loaded the bright orange weapon and stepped back to practice, concentrating.
Marc stayed in a back corner, occasionally offering direction and trying not to sniff his hands. They reeked of her scent. He kept a groan to himself. Damn, he had it bad. When Angela looked around a bit later, the wolf was at the door, gray ears up, reddish-black head down, golden eyes watching contentedly. Marc had settled on the couch to clean his guns, and she felt peace and bitterness warring in her heart. This is how it should have been for them…and it had been stolen.
5
After a quiet meal of beans and Bambi, they settled in to wait out the storm. It wasn't quite dark yet and they were surprised upon moving outside. Not to step out into cold, white darkness, but by the amount of snow that had already fallen. It was still coming down in thick sheets, at least six inches of the dirty grey flakes covering everything. The wind swirled the falling moisture into tiny tornadoes that raced across the cornfield to slam apart against the broken stalks and their snowy, tarp-covered vehicles.
The pair split up wordlessly, Marc waving the wolf after her as she stepped behind a large, ice-covered tree and out of his sight. The wind howled, growing stronger, and sheets of falling snow whipped violently, producing a whiteout effect that the flashlights around their necks barely penetrated. Making a fast round of the perimeter, the Marine uncovered alarms, then joined her on the porch, careful to keep his distance.
Angela didn't meet his observant eyes, didn't want him to see how scared she was. "I have to warn Kenny this is coming," she thought, but only said, "I'll be out here for a few minutes."
Marc heard both statements. He wanted to stay and listen, but gently, closed the door instead, jealousy burning in his heart. He could feel it a moment later, powerful waves of warning that seemed to vibrate in his head as they rushed over miles and miles of broken American ground. He was hit with the urge to interrupt, to make his presence as her new protector known, but that would give away the element of surprise, and the Marine inside held him in check. Longing to at least hear what was being said, Marc began to clean his guns…again.
Angela slammed the door in her mind, trying to stop crying and shaking. Kenny was so mad!
His anger had slapped her, terrified her, and she wiped at her eyes as she turned toward their warm den. He wanted her to go back to Ohio, said he would come get her when he was ready, but she could hear him wishing she would die there or anywhere along the way. Under the layers of fear, she was furious and more determined than ever. She would never turn back now. Never!