The Survivors: Book One

Kenn marked the Slavers' passage, and kept watching, even after they were out of sight and the sounds of their engines were gone. He was still watching when Charlie began dozing with his head against the bullet-riddled wall.

Kenn was worried. There was no way he could challenge or defend against a group of killers that large. He had to hope to sneak through the next couple of days without drawing any attention, though they would be on a loud dirt bike. Worried was an understatement.

However, he was also furious. A part of him was protesting just letting the foreign army continue their rampage. They didn't belong here - were an affront to everything America had stood for. If he had half a dozen men from his base, he might risk his life and try to kill them all.

Better yet, give me two grunts and Marc Brady, Kenn thought, lighting a cigarette. Brady had been team leader for the last few years and a pain in his ass, but when it came to high-casualty ambushes, there was no one better.

The Marine blew out smoke rings, thinking they would head northwest when they left here, and then circle back to NORAD. It would add a lot of miles, but get them away from these men quickly. He didn't want to think the Slavers had been following their back trail, but if they were, they would have to come to where they'd lost it - here. Kenn's smile was icy. Maybe he could leave a surprise. He wouldn't know if he got any of them, but it was still worth doing.

For the next few hours, he worked with the explosives he'd taken from the base, listening hard for the group of dangerous men to return. If that happened, they would all go up together in one big blaze of glory. The government compound was waiting for them. That was the direction he'd been heading each day, the most logical thing to do, but Kenn wasn't sure if he was ready to be back under the rule of the government that had destroyed the world - and then left him behind to die in it - after all the years he had served them...killed for them. He still loved the Corps, would always believe in what it stood for. He just no longer trusted those in charge.

There had been a brief hope in the beginning, after all their outgoing CB calls that someone might come back, but he'd waited over a week, and heard only survivors begging for help - saw only the same. When the power had gone off (he had been surprised to have it for almost two weeks), they'd left, unable to wait anymore as supplies ran low. Clearly, they were on their own, a Marine and a cadet adrift. What to do?