The Thrust (20 page)

Evan nodded. “That’s probably it. Less witnesses. Or . . . maybe he just wants to take his time with me.”

Fuck. He was going to die within the next few hours. Tears streamed down his battered face.

“I won’t let that happen,” Trent said. “I’ll kill them all first. When they try to execute you, will the Colonel and his men all be there?”

“Yeah. They’ll be there.” Evan choked back a sob at the thought of dying at the hands of his enemies. After everything he’d done to survive. “They’ll probably pull Scar out of the infirmary to have him there, too, like they did when they killed Hernandez. So he can see his ‘attacker’ get executed.” Evan scowled. “It was self-defense.”

“I don’t care why you did whatever you did,” Trent said. “You’re important to Annie, and to Clarissa. I’m getting you out of here alive.”

“They’ll come for me after evening rations, I know it,” Evan said. “There won’t be a trial, they’ll just put a bullet in my brain, if I’m lucky.” He shuddered to think of what would happen if he wasn’t lucky . . . They might decide to torture him for fun first.

He wouldn’t put it past them. Especially if Scar was in the room.

Trent looked upset. “I’m not prepared for this. We planned on having our own militia here to help everyone escape, and to take out the Colonel and his men. But—it’s just me.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Evan said softly. “And then you’ll never be able to free the people. Stick with your original plan. Get Annie out of here, and come back with your militia.”

“I can’t do that, Evan. I can’t let them kill you. And . . . Annie won’t leave without you.”

Evan was touched. Really? She wouldn’t? But he couldn’t let her die on his behalf.

“Please,” Evan said. “Find Annie. Tell her I said I love her, and then she needs to leave with you. That if she doesn’t leave with you my death will be in vain.”

Trent looked surprised. “You . . . love my sister?”

Evan nodded miserably. He’d known it for a while now, but the words hadn’t come out. If only he’d had a chance to tell her himself.

“Please, Trent,” Evan whispered. “Get her out of here.”

Trent took his lock-picking tools and reached for the chains around Evan’s ankles. “I’m taking you with me.”

“Don’t,” Evan said. “There might be another way. The soldiers in my bunk, they—they don’t like Colonel Lanche, or Scar. They were ready to back us up. If you can get them on your side, you could all ambush Lanche and his men when they take me away. They’ll all be in the same room, in the OCC.”

Trent nodded. “Okay. I’m going to get Annie out, and as many of the women as I can. Then I’ll go find your guys.” He paused. “What if we don’t get to you in time? I’ll never forgive myself.”

Evan shivered. “I’ll stall them for as long as I can by talking about Letliv, is that okay?”

“Yes,” Trent said. “Tell them that I visited, that I gave you the pamphlets, that you distributed them. Just don’t tell them about Annie.”

Surely the Colonel would let him live long enough to get more intel, right? This had to work. If it didn’t, he was a dead man. Evan nodded at Trent, trying to put on a brave face.

Trent shook Evan’s hand. “You’re a good man, Evan. I’m going to save you, for Annie’s sake. I swear I will.”

Grand Central Terminal, the Tracks

CLARISSA

CLARISSA
pulled the hoodie over her head, praying no one would recognize her as she walked down the Tracks, searching for Annie’s train car.

Annie was inside.

“What the fuck is going on?” Annie asked. Her pretty face was streaked with tears—she’d been crying.

“We thought Trent might need backup,” Clarissa said, hugging her. “All I have to do is signal and we’ll have Letliv ready to come in.”

“Trent is missing, and so is Evan. Trent went to find Evan, but I haven’t seen him, I don’t know where either of them are.” Annie pressed her hands to her lips, choking back a sob.

Trent was missing?

A bell rang loudly, telling everyone it was time for evening rations. “Let’s go find them,” Clarissa said. “Can you walk?”

Annie nodded and stood, leaning on her cane for support.

“Listen, Annie, before we go—I made a recording in Letliv, using Trent’s equipment. It’s playing right now, on the radio, on a loop.”

Clarissa pulled a small hand-crank radio from her pack, the one that Emily’s friend Samuel had let her borrow. Specifically for this purpose.

“If it comes down to it, you may need to play this broadcast. Just crank it and turn the volume up. The station is set, ready to go.”

Annie looked at the radio like it was an alien object. “But—how?”

“There’s no time, Annie. Just hide it.”

Annie wrapped the radio in a shirt and shoved the bundle under her dirty mattress, her eyes full of unspoken questions.

Together they walked up to the food court, scanning the soldiers to find one of their men.

Then, Clarissa spotted Trent. He was standing against the wall, looking like the rest of the soldiers. But this was different. He was . . . talking to them.

Why was Trent talking to that small group of soldiers, when he had been so adamant about avoiding even being noticed?

Clarissa got closer, close enough to hear. Annie followed.

“You’re Evan’s bunkmates, right?” Trent was asking.

The soldiers nodded, looking concerned.

“I need to speak to you guys privately, for your own safety. I think you know what I mean.”

Clarissa had no clue what he was talking about, but perhaps the soldiers did, because to her surprise they followed Trent down the hallway, where she couldn’t afford to be seen eavesdropping. She hung back with Annie, straining to hear.

No one else in the camp paid attention. They were all waiting in line for their rations.

“I spoke to Evan,” Trent said. “And he’s going to be killed for what happened to Scar. You all know he didn’t do anything, but Lanche is going to execute him after evening rations.”

The soldiers didn’t seem to take that well.

Clarissa had no idea what was going on. What had happened to Scar? And why would Evan’s bunkmates know, or care?

“You’re good guys,” Trent said. “You know what’s happening here is wrong.”

“Yeah,” one soldier whispered, so softly Clarissa could barely hear him.

Trent took a deep breath. “Lanche, Scar, Dobson, and the other three guards—they’ll all be at Evan’s execution. We could take them out. Free everyone—including yourselves.”

Annie covered her mouth, her eyes wide, at the mention of Evan being executed.

“We don’t know you,” one of the men said. “You could be a spy sent by the Colonel himself. And I don’t want to die today.”

Trent nodded. “You don’t know me because I’m not a soldier here. I come from Letliv.”

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.