The Thrust Page 16

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Would they arrest him? Kill the “terrorist” to get back into Lanche’s good favor?

  “How many of you guys are here?” one asked.

  He didn’t sound like he was on board with the plan, like maybe he was just trying to figure out what would happen if they tried to restrain Trent. Or maybe—maybe they wanted to know if they would be alone, if they banded together to fight Colonel Lanche?

  “Just me,” Trent said softly. “We weren’t planning on doing this today. I have a small army of liberty-minded men and women in Letliv, but . . . they’re not here. Things spiraled out of control when Lanche decided to kill Evan.” He paused. “That’s why we need your help.”

  Clarissa stepped forward, out of the shadows.

  “You won’t be alone,” she said. “We’re here.”

  Trent looked at her in surprise. None of the soldiers reached for their guns, so that was a good thing.

  “What are you doing here?” Trent asked. “Are you okay?”

  “I knew we made a bad decision sending you here alone after the pamphlets went out,” Clarissa said, not bothering to hide what she said from the soldiers. She turned to them. “We have our army here. Now. You said you don’t want to die today. Does that mean you’re with us, or against us?”

  The small group of soldiers looked at her in shock.

  “Today? Now?” one man asked. His dark scalp was shiny, as if he’d recently shaved it or didn’t need to. The name on his uniform said Lawrence. Clarissa wondered if that was his first or last name, or even his name at all.

  “Yes.” Clarissa kept waiting for the men to start yelling, to run and get the other soldiers, to tell everyone that the terrorists from Letliv had infiltrated the camp and were going to kill Lanche.

  But no one moved.

  “It’s a good plan,” Lawrence said finally. “To get all six when they’re in the same room.”

  “What the fuck are you saying, man?” another soldier asked.

  Lawrence shrugged. “I’m sayin’ Colonel Lanche has gotten way too trigger-happy. He’s been killing people for speaking out. Killed those UN guys who came with supplies. Killed people for escaping. Now he’s gonna kill that boy, just for being another one of Scar’s victims? What the fuck kind of leader is that?”

  Clarissa beamed. Thank you God, for putting some good soldiers into this mix.

  “Time is short,” Trent said. “Evening rations are almost over. Clarissa, Annie—get the Letliv people ready. Start evacuating the women. Men—” Trent pulled off his uniform top, leaving the tight white undershirt on. “I hope to God you’re with us.”

  One by one, the small group of soldiers who had been Evan’s bunkmates took off their uniforms.

  Clarissa turned to Annie. “Go to the Tracks, start getting the women out by the Forty-Seventh Street exit. It’s dark in that passageway, so bring a light. I’m going to run and get the signal to our people.”

  Annie nodded, clearly aware that Clarissa had no choice but to move ahead as fast as she could, while Annie did her best with her cane.

  Trent gave Annie a brief hug, then handed her a candle from his pack. “I love you, sis. Stay safe.”

  Annie nodded, pocketing the candle. “Get Evan out of here, okay?”

  “I promise.” He paused, as if he wanted to tell her more, but . . . time was short.

  Annie looked at the soldiers and headed off, the tapping of her cane echoing through the corridor.

  Trent grabbed Clarissa’s hand before she could leave. She gasped at the intensity of his heated touch.

  “Clarissa,” he said simply.

  She wanted to hear something else

  don’t think about that now

  but he just kissed her hard on the lips.

  A good-bye kiss? No, no it couldn’t be—they would not die today. Not today—not if she could help it.

  “Be safe,” she whispered. “I’ll get everyone out, keep them guarded with some of our people, and bring the rest of them into the main terminal. Barker, Jenna, Emily and Mason and I will meet you back at the OCC.”

  “It’s not going to be safe there,” Trent said.

  “We need to be there. I need to be there.” Clarissa wanted to kiss him once more. Wanted to tell him something. Everything.

  But there was no time.

  ANNIE

  Annie walked as quickly as she could with the cane back down to the Tracks. If she tried she could get there before the women came back from evening rations.

  Which was about the same time Colonel Lanche and his men planned to execute Evan,.

  Evan.

  How could that monster Lanche do such a thing? Annie wasn’t even entirely sure what Evan was being executed for. Trent had told those soldiers it had something to do with “what happened with Scar,” but what did that mean?

  Had Evan killed Scar himself?

  She thought back to how Evan had told her to forget their plans to kill Scar, that he was going to go to his bunk so he could be there when Scar came for him. Perhaps Evan had tried to kill him alone, without Annie’s help, because he didn’t want her to get drawn into it.

  No. That couldn’t be it, unless Evan had tried to kill Scar—and failed. Because those soldiers were talking with Trent about Scar being there for Evan’s execution.

  Why would Evan’s bunkmates join Trent against Lanche?

  Maybe they saw . . . saw what Scar did to Evan. Maybe it had something to with that other soldier, Hernandez. The one who Evan told her also hated Scar. Also wanted to kill him.

  Everything was happening so fast. She ignored the ache in her leg and stumbled into her train car, then grabbed the hidden radio, resisting the urge to turn it on. There was no time.

  Where had Clarissa gotten a radio? No radios worked, not since the Pulse. But that night that Taryn, Jenna’s girlfriend on the Tracks, had been executed—the same night Jenna escaped—Colonel Lanche had shot Taryn the moment she’d started talking about . . . a radio.

  Annie remembered Taryn’s last words, because they were so strange, and so hopeful.

  There’s a radio, she’d said. Get out of Grand Central, and find a better life.

  Clarissa was already gone. Annie knew where she’d snuck in and out from Trent, and she had the candle for light, although it wouldn’t be much help with so many girls following her.

  If they followed her.

  What if they were all too scared to leave?

  When they started to flow in from the dining court, Annie stood on a pile of crates to make herself taller, and yelled to be heard.

  “Listen now, for your own safety!” she yelled.

  The women quieted and looked up at her. It was so dark down there in the Tracks, but Annie could feel their attention on her.

  The flames from a nearby garbage fire flickered violently, licking their upturned faces with an orange glow.

  Annie took a deep breath. “Those pamphlets we read—from the people in Letliv—”

  “Don’t talk about it,” someone shushed her. “You’ll get us killed.”

  Fuck. How could she get them out, when she didn’t even know if they believed the Letliv people were terrorists or saviors?

  “No one wants to die today,” Annie said. “And I—I saw them. They’re here.”

  A loud cry of shock went through the group assembled before her.

  “Will they hurt us?” someone asked.

  “No,” Annie said “They want to free us.”

  “Free us from what? They’re terrorists!” another said.

  “They are no such thing!” Annie cried. “Emily escaped, remember her? And Jenna. And Clarissa. And they all know, as well as you do, that freedom—freedom is out there. Not here, not in Grand Central.”

  “They escaped and they died!” a voice cried from the group. “It’s not safe anywhere but here.”

  Annie took the radio and held it up, cranking the hand-crank. “Please, listen to this for yourself. They didn’t d
ie. They’re safe.”

  A groan rumbled through the crowd. Everyone knew that all electronics had been fried after the Pulse. What would a dead radio do?

  It came to life, that’s what it did.

  The shock of hearing the radio for the first time in a year made her jump, nearly dropping the damn thing. Static hissed, the recording was not good—but it was clearly Clarissa.

  If you’re listening to this you know that Colonel Lanche is a liar. I’m living in Letliv, on the coast. Jenna is here with Barker. Emily is here with her . . . Mason. Annie’s brother Trent lives here. He’s . . . he’s good. A good man.

  It was hard to tell on the tinny broadcast, but Annie could have sworn she heard Clarissa’s voice catch when she spoke Trent’s name.

  We eat well, catching fish and growing food in gardens. We take care of ourselves and each other. You don’t need FEMA to help you, or the UN. You don’t. You don’t need the tyranny of Colonel Lanche and his army to “help” you.

  America is rebuilding, there are communities everywhere that are better off than Grand Central. Emily found a whole town in Potterskill. There’s more. Clarissa’s voice faltered. You have to get out of the camp. There’s not much time . . .

  The message continued, but the juice from the hand-cranking Annie had hastily done wore out, and it stopped.

  The women looked at her as if they’d just heard the voice of God himself.

  Annie grasped the radio tightly to her chest. “We—we need to get out of the building in case things go south. We have no guns, no way to protect ourselves. The only thing we can do is be out of the range of fire if shooting starts.”

  More gasps and murmurs.

  “How do you know this is happening now?” It was Josephine, her friend, who asked.

  “I overheard them. I saw them. I saw . . . I saw some soldiers taking off their uniform tops. It’s going to happen, and we need to get out. Now.”

  “There’s no way out that’s not guarded by soldiers,” Josephine said. “Or is there?”

  “There is. Please, there’s not much time. Please,” Annie begged. “Follow me. You don’t have to decide anything right now. You don’t have to decide whose side you’re on. All you have to do is not get killed. Evacuate. You can always come back in later if you want.”

  “I’ll come,” Josephine said.

  “We’re going to get in trouble,” another said. “Lanche will execute us for treason.”

  “No,” Annie said. “That will not happen.” She looked around at the crowd. “You all read the pamphlet. You heard the radio. A radio, for God’s sake! A radio that isn’t supposed to exist, but it does.”

  Annie took a breath, trying not to scare them all away, not when she was so close to bringing them to safety. “You know it’s true. There is a better life for us, but it’s not here. Not on the Tracks, living in darkness for the rest our lives. I’m going outside.”

  With that, Annie gratefully accepted Josephine’s help to get down off the crate and they walked together toward the passageway to freedom.

  She was almost scared to look back, scared the women would be frozen with indecision behind her, not following her into the sunlight.

  But instead, they moved as one. They wanted to be free too.

  EVAN

  Evan couldn’t quite stretch out fully on the floor in the tiny closet they kept him in, awaiting his fate. The stench of urine and fear-sweat clung to his nostrils, invading the cell. His whole body hurt from the beating Lanche’s soldiers had given him.

  He pressed his bruised face to the cold concrete, letting the coolness seep into his flesh and soothe him.

  The dinner bell had rung a long time ago, at least it seemed to him. Any minute Colonel Lanche’s men might come in and drag him off to his own execution.

  It wasn’t fair. He was barely even eighteen! There was a whole life ahead of him, waiting. A life with Annie.

  He loved her. God, he loved her. And now he’d never have a chance to tell her so.

  The chains around his ankles gnawed at his skin. It hadn’t been very difficult to send Trent away earlier, knowing that Trent didn’t have any backup. But now that the time of his execution drew nearer, regret filled him.

  Trent had been right there, ready to pick the locks on the chains. Sending him away had felt noble at the time—now it felt stupid. Trent had promised to save him, but how? Would the soldiers he’d bunked with really help Trent, or would they shoot him the second he told them he was from Letliv?

  It was hard to know a man’s true nature until he had to make a life or death choice. Trent would be asking those men to choose: Letliv or Grand Central. Freedom or tyranny. Liberty, or security. He prayed they chose wisely.

  If not, if those soldiers fell back on their year’s worth of brainwashing courtesy of Lanche, Trent would be lucky to escape with his life and sister. Very lucky.

  As for Evan, he would be shot, he would die. But Annie would live—and that was the most important thing. The only thing that mattered.

  At least he’d gotten to be with her once, before all this. God, he should have stayed with her last night. Maybe if he had . . . No.

  If he’d stayed with her last night, Scar would have found them on the Tracks, and Evan knew he wouldn’t be able to sit idly by while Scar raped her. Evan would have killed Scar, and then both Annie and Evan would be locked up now, awaiting execution.

  So it was better this way.

  Better to die alone, knowing she was okay. That her brother was here to get her out.

  Before the Pulse, Evan’s only concerns were graduating high school and getting a date for the prom. That was it. Well, that and trying to get his folks off his back about his curfew.

  Mom . . .

  He’d never see her again. She’d never even know what had happened to him. Maybe, maybe someday in the future, his parents and his kid brother would hear a story about how he was a domestic terrorist. Ha.

  Were his parents okay, in that FEMA camp in Greenwich? Had the UN gotten to them, too? Shit. He should have asked Trent to try and free them too. He would have stayed there in Greenwich with them forever, probably, if they hadn’t drafted him to join forces with the United Nations “peacekeepers.” The idea of the UN coming in and taking over America didn’t sit well.

  Didn’t seem like the UN was actually threatening them, though. If it weren’t for the supplies and vitamins they’d brought, Annie’s leg might never have healed. But Colonel Lanche killed those foreign men like they were dogs.

  Disposable.

  Just like he was.

  God, if you’re with me now . . . Evan paused. He was still rusty at praying, and he wanted to do it right. Please forgive me for anything bad I did. And please let me see Rocky in heaven.

  He sighed. Did God care that those bandits had killed Rocky—did all dogs really go to heaven? It seemed so long ago. Time alternately sped up or slowed down since the Pulse. Nothing was the same.

  Evan pictured Rocky running through a field, chasing after a rabbit. He looked happy. Maybe Jenna’s friend Taryn would be there, too. She must have been nice, really nice, from the way Jenna always spoke of her. And she’d used her last words to try and save everyone.

  God, if I die tonight, I really hope you’ll let me into Heaven.

  Amen.

  CLARISSA

  With Annie behind her, Clarissa had flown down to the Tracks as fast as her legs would carry her. She had to signal for backup, and fast.

  They didn’t have much time—not if Evan was going to be executed after evening rations. All the bad guys in one room. She had to be there, to see the look on Colonel Lanche’s face when his whole world came crumbling the fuck down.

  She ran, her breath coming hard and fast.

  Back to the hidden door.

  Back down the passageway.

  Back under the construction tape.

  No time to light a candle—she felt her way through the dark, walking the labyrinth of Grand Central’s
underbelly.

  Then out the broken glass door, out into the low light of the setting sun.

  She had to get the signal fire going before the sun set and blocked the smoke.

  From her pack she pulled the dry kindling and set it down on the dirty sidewalk. The flint Mason had lent her worked well, sparks flew as she fumbled with it until flames licked upward, as if seeking the low-lying sun.

  Now for the damp wood. Clarissa set it on top, pleased when the fire smoked copiously around it, noxious black and grey smoke that made her choke.

  Do you see this, Letliv? Help me!

  Somewhere on a rooftop would be her spotter—the man whose sole job it was to keep his binoculars focused on that exit, to watch for her, to see if she signaled for backup.

  She couldn’t see him, but if he was there

  Please God let him be there

  then he would be climbing down a rickety fire escape right now, getting to the truck, and telling the men and women to drive over to her.

  It was time.

  Two torturously long minutes later, the supply truck pulled up. The driver jumped out.

  “Are we doing this?” he asked, running around to the back of the truck. Men and women armed with rifles flowed out from the back.

  The tension in the air was palpable.

  “Yes, it’s happening.” Clarissa addressed the group. “The targets will all be in the same room when they execute Evan, which will be soon. Very soon. Annie is inside but any minute now she should be coming out here with women from the Tracks.”

  Clarissa took a deep breath. “I spoke with Trent. We need people to stay here and guard the women, to protect them in case the soldiers try to take them back, or shoot them. We also need people to go into the main terminal, and—” Fight. That’s what almost came out of her mouth. Instead she pushed down her feelings of hatred for this place, those soldiers. “Convince the soldiers to remain peaceful.”

  “What about the targets?” Emily asked, coming forward.

  “You, Mason, me, Jenna and Barker,” Clarissa said, as they stepped forward. “We’re going to meet Trent at the OCC and give Colonel Lanche what he deserves.”