Alexa's Travels: A Prelude by Angela White Page A

Why he had been masquerading as a priest, she hadn’t asked. All she needed was the steel that few had in this new world, and her fighters had been chosen by that line.
    Each in their twenties or thirties, this group of survivors was healthy, vibrant compared to the decaying souls they’d met on this quest. Alexa had culled each of them from the dwindling herd of mankind because they were the most likely to survive the trip to find New America and the others . The harsh battles they’d fought at her side had forged a bond that was rare in a land where death lurked ruthlessly in every shadow.
    Now, they were a week or ten days from the angry ocean. If this Safe Haven still existed, they’d soon see… and if there was only more of what they had already come through, or worse, nothing at all?
    Only one of them knew, and it was information she guarded closely. In this new hell, women were all powerful and death claimed those who could not, or would not, accept the shift in command. Why woman now ruled was easy to understand while they were passing entire towns destroyed by the hatred and greed of the past. There was nothing that females could do to even come close to the awful feeling of a small skeleton crunching under a boot.
    While they ate, there was little talk among the group of fighters. Words seemed unsettlingly out of place in the foreign landscape, and Alexa pushed aside her own concerns to draw them out, to strengthen their bonds.
    “How long do we have before the storm arrives?”
    Her words were rough, from a throat that had seen smoke in all its damaging forms, and her men hurried to answer.
    “An hour.”
    “Naw, half that.”
    “Check again. That base looks a mile wide, even from here. It’s big, slow. Two hours.”
    Alexa nodded her approval. “My Second in command has been paying attention. We have more than enough time to prepare, but should we wait?”
    Edward, flushed with pride at finally having his place confirmed, shook his head. The sandstorms they’d survived were tricky, sly. Other survivors they’d talked with all believed nature had turned against them, and none of this group would argue that point after the wolves in Nebraska… the killin’ fields.
    “It shifted. We’ll need to move to the other side of the wall, out of the path.” Alexa said this while staring up at the message, thinking the scouring gusts were starting to erode the letters. Barely obvious now, in another year, the wind would begin to make real progress. Some of the words would remain forever, but the sand would take its toll. Nothing stood unchanged before time, certainly not man or his creations.
    The woman glanced over her army again as they set the tent overtop of metal grates long since clogged with dust and debris. Did all of Underworld look like that? They’d managed to stay topside for their quest, mostly, but the woman had a sudden sense that they might need to find out… and before morning.
    “Wait. Clear the hole.”
    They understood right away, doing what she wanted without complaint, and it eased the woman’s tension a bit. Even by themselves, her males were strong. All with black hair and blue eyes, they appeared to be related, and though not happy (who could be with this world around them?), they appeared at least content to be here, with her. Was it enough? Would it hold them?
    She had built bonds and strengthened their ties anyway she could, but time was almost up, and the hell they would have to face had not really begun yet. These men thought there was nothing worse than two thousand miles of walking dead and sand storms that tried to kill them while they slept, but Alexa knew those had only been training tools. Land was nothing compared to the water.
    The woman shook her head at the last dregs of the rolled smoke they were passing, letting them have it. A whirlwind rose from the ground a few feet away as if in response to her chaotic thoughts, and it flew closer with an audible