3. CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 3
Never once had Leandro ever believed he would find an Alpha he respected enough to want to be around. At least not in his old life. Having had to be his three Alpha brothers’ slave had beat out the notion that there were actually good Alphas in the world. Although, if he were honest, the same could have been said about Omegas if his only examples had been the men his brothers had brought into their homes to provide them with children.
And yes, his brothers had more than one Omega each. Hell, one of them had four, and they all produced more than one kid each. At the home of Aizen, his oldest brother, he had four Omegas and ten kids. Talk about grueling. Not only had Leandro had to clean their houses—the Omegas living with his brothers had not once bothered to pick up after themselves—but he’d often been forced to care for his nephews, who had all been taught to treat Leandro like he had no feelings.
It hadn’t even mattered that some were alphas, and some were Omegas. Nor had their Omega parents treated him as if Leandro had feelings at all.
Thank fuck for his friends, or Leandro might have given up on humanity. That said, it made him wonder a couple of weeks after that initial attack if he’d been wrong to judge all Alphas, especially as several more had moved to Sanctuary to help them.
Sure, there were far more Omegas they’d found as they’d continued to traverse the rivers for trading routes, but, like Renzo—who had proven himself by saving many lives—Alphas like Weston were also doing their part.
What Leandro didn’t know was, did it make him an asshole for judging all Alphas the same? Even as he thought that while once more watching Weston work tirelessly to help their community, Leandro knew damn well the answer to that question. The real problem was, could he ever get past his anxiety and give Weston a chance?
Leandro didn’t think it was possible. Not when his fears were so deeply ingrained within him. Hell, if it weren’t for his childhood friends, he most likely would have hated all people. His brothers’ Omegas hadn’t treated him any better than their alphas. At times, their demands were far worse.
Then again, they had not only been east of the Mississippi River, but had not technically held captive. He only made the caveat because he’d seen for himself the cages and shackles some Omegas were forced to endure.
Leandro shivered as the images of what he’d seen or been told about came to mind. The things Ford had described when he went to one port on the east side of the Mississippi River, where Omegas were not only chained but put in cages stacked on top of each other, had been terrifying enough. But to have heard some of their stories had his gut clenching.
Yet, despite some of their horrendous conditions, there had been Alphas who had helped them escape. That was where Leandro struggled the most. Shouldn’t that one fact be enough proof to show him that not all alphas were the same?
The biggest question, though, was whether Weston was one of those few alphas who could be trusted.
Even as that thought went through his head while he once more watched Weston tirelessly work to secure their jail, Leandro knew the answer. The problem was accepting it enough for him to talk to the man.
Bulging muscles strained under the weight of one of the iron doors as Weston brought it back inside the jail after soldering one side of a latch that would hold a large key lock. Thank fuck Leandro didn’t have to watch the playground or the school that day. Not that he hated kids, but after years of babysitting and cleaning up after his nephews, Leandro did not want to talk to kids.
This time, he was standing guard in front of their ‘store’. It really was more like a farmer’s market as it was outdoors during the day and tented up at night, but it worked for their growing town. At some point, Coleson, their newly elected mayor—as well as one of Leandro’s best friends—would need to provide a building as a more permanent solution, but they’d made do.
It was one of their many challenges when coming to their newfound home. Not all buildings had survived being left alone for nearly a hundred years. As they’d scavenged several towns nearby, it had been the same. Those structures that had housed pertinent goods rarely still stood.
It was as if, when the populace fled east, they’d run through any business that held something of value for them to take. Even the hospital—that still mostly stood—had a lot of damage. They were still doing their best to rebuild it. Thank fuck a good portion of it still stood standing, or they’d have had to build a glorified tent to perform medical treatment.
Even with a portion of the building still intact, they’d had to scavenge more than a hundred miles west and north to find medical supplies to treat their wounded. But they’d made it work. Mostly.
But the attack on their town had severely depleted their supplies. Discussions had begun about doing more foraging. The biggest question was whether they should do it by river or caravan.
They had four trucks in working order, but not much gas. Two of their three riverboats were functional, but again, without fuel, it would be a challenge to get far. Plus, going along the river led to more issues as settlements and trading posts—which both tended to be run by Alphas—congregated there.
Thanks to Lowen’s farm, they could use horses, which he raised to save on fuel. Ford’s modifications to the four trucks to use solar power instead of gas would help, but there was no real good way to predict the weather. It would only take a few days of clouds and rain to force them to a standstill with solar power.
Plus, when using trucks, they could easily stock them with supplies, but if they came upon encampments of caged Omegas, it would be extremely difficult to get them to safety when they needed the room to transport those supplies. But Ford and several others had been working tirelessly to provide more vehicles, because they all knew that though it might have been easier to traverse the west by water, Alphas looking to kidnap and sell Omegas to the east used that mode of transportation as well.
An hour later, he was seated in the town’s community room with over two dozen others to discuss that exact topic. He wasn’t sure what was worse, figuring out logistics, or that Weston was sitting right next to him.
Nope. That answer was simple as he breathed in Weston’s musky scent. He smelled of sweat, earth, and–oddly enough–flowers. It was almost as if he’d run through a field of flowers before coming to the meeting, despite Leandro having watched him for the last two hours working on welding those manual locks to the doors of the jail cells.
There should have been no way Weston could smell so damn good under those conditions, yet he did.
“I realize this will take a lot longer, but considering each time we use the rivers, Alphas find us, it might be more prudent to use the trucks Ford has fixed and retrofitted with solar power.” Weston’s deep voice, especially so close to him, sent a shiver of desire through Leandro.
“Can we spare those that will need to go for that amount of time?” One of Leandro’s friends who’d helped build Sanctuary spoke up. “Plus, our medical supplies are critically low after that last attack. If we’re hit again, I’m afraid we won’t have enough to help the injured.”
Maxon was a nurse–which in their world was one of the few jobs an Omega could pursue–and knew their supplies better than anyone else. Even the doctors rarely understood how much was needed. Then again, that was considered a nurse’s job, not something the Alpha world would ask an Alpha doctor to concern himself with.
“We probably don’t have the time for a group to head out that long,” Coleson, their newly elected mayor, admitted. “But I also agree with Weston on this one. Each time we’ve used the waterways, we’ve been chased or attacked.”
That was likely because alphas used them to transport their Omega captives across the Mississippi River.
“Plus, we marked on the map which towns we went to the last time we did this. It will make the trip a bit faster to either go in another direction completely or just skip those towns and head farther west before we search.” Oxley, one of the Alphas who had helped save them on the river with Weston, pointed out.
“Just know,” Lowen told them. “The further west you go, the harder the terrain will be. It might be nearly impossible to get trucks through.”
Since Lowen had lived working on his family farm just outside of Sanctuary, he knew the area the best. He’d set up trading routes with people hundreds of miles away, but over the last few years, it had gotten harder and harder to traverse. Since Lowen took a horse or two, he’d been able to, but some families he met up with were having more difficulty as they took wagons.
Thanks to Ford, Sanctuary was one of the few places west of the Mississippi River to have working vehicles.
“I think that is our best solution. We’re too easily seen on the rivers to risk it.” Coleson looked at each person as he scanned the room to see if they were all in agreement. When no one disagreed, he gave a nod. “Let’s decide how many are going.”
“The smaller the group, the less chance we’ll be seen,” Westland pointed out.
“On the other hand,” Maxon said. “We’ll be limited in bringing supplies back, plus a bigger group would mean being able to split up to cover more territory.”
Both were good points. Yet, what surprised him, even though by now it shouldn’t, was that Westland nodded at Maxon’s point as if agreeing with him instead of arguing that he had no clue what he was talking about like most Alphas Leandro had known back home would have done. Well, that or ignore him altogether, as if he hadn’t even spoken.
“It would be a huge gamble to send out a larger force when we don’t know if other alphas know about our location,” Joah reminded them. Then again, if there was anyone who could find the negative in any situation, it was Joah. Leandro loved him as much as his other friends, but he had a way of being the biggest pessimist Leandro had ever known.
If Joah had his way, they’d all still live in Indianapolis and still be under the thumb of the Alphas there. The thing was, it wasn’t as if Joah hadn’t wanted to make the journey, but no matter what the suggestion, he would find a reason they shouldn’t do it.
Coleson once more looked at everyone as if getting a read on the room. His friend had a knack for knowing what people were thinking without having said a word. When he was done, he gave a nod. “Let’s figure out how many we need to send in order to split up if needed.” Then he turned to Ford. “Are all four vehicles ready to go?”
Ford grinned. “Of course. And lucky for you, I have a fifth nearly done, so we’ll have something for the town to use if necessary.”
How Leandro found himself seated in one of those trucks sitting next to Weston, who was currently driving, he would never know.