The Thrust (27 page)

And if he did know . . . would that scare him away, forever?

ONE WEEK LATER

EVAN

Evan surveyed the
cabin—well, the small part they got up, with the help of the others. It was only one room with a tin roof, but this way he had a place to stay that was weather-tight, and he could add on to it without rushing.

Annie had her arm around his waist as they stood there, staring at it, smiling like their tiny shack was a mansion.

“It’s awesome,” she said.

Evan laughed. “Not yet, but it will be. I know it’s small, but . . .” He swallowed hard, unsure how to ask what he wanted so desperately.

“Annie,” he said carefully. “You don’t have to say yes. I’d understand.”

“Yes to what?” she asked, confusion in her beautiful brown eyes.

“I wanted to know if you’d be interested in . . . in living in this cabin with me. You know, together. Like how we did on the Tracks.”

Annie smiled, shaking her head, and Evan’s heart dropped to his stomach.

Fuck.

“It’s nothing like the Tracks, Evan,” she said. “Because this is ours. And we can live here without fear. We won’t have to worry that—” She stopped, clearly not wanting to say Scar’s name. “That someone will wake us up in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “That’s true.”

Evan pulled her in close and kissed her gently on her lips. He wanted to make it clear what his intentions were. He was no child in need of a mother, no teenager looking for a roommate.

He wanted Annie to be
his
 . . . and he wanted to be hers. “So what do you think?”

She kissed him back, hugging him tightly. “Of course I’ll live with you. I’d be lonely without you, Evan.”

“Before I was going to be executed, I spoke to Trent,” Evan said. “I told him something, because I thought I was going to die, and I wanted to make sure you knew. Did he . . . did he tell you?”

Annie shook her head. “Something like that, he wouldn’t have told me unless you had actually died. And he knew he wasn’t going to let that happen.”

She stared at him expectantly, but Evan could barely speak, he was so nervous.

He’d never been in love before. It was all new territory.

“What did you want to tell me, Evan?” Annie asked.

“Do you promise you won’t change your mind about living with me?”

She laughed. “No. I can’t promise that. What if your secret is that you’re an alien from outer space?”

Evan shook his head, grinning. “Nothing that exciting. Just . . . that I love you, Annie. I’m . . . I’m in love with you. Have been for a while now.”

Tears came to Annie’s eyes, and Evan stepped back, apologies already on his lips. But she shushed him with a fierce kiss.

“I love you too, Evan. You mean everything to me.”

Her admission made everything in the world good again. Everything was wonderful, because Annie loved him too.

Annie loves me too!

She kissed him so hard they fell over into the grass, fumbling with each other’s clothes in their urgency to show each other—not just tell—exactly how they felt.

Evan pointed to their little cabin. “We can have privacy,” he said. “Real privacy.”

“Yes!”

He lifted her tiny figure—he’d gained some muscle mass from eating so well and carrying all the timber for their cabin. She gasped in surprise when he carried her through the door.

“We can probably borrow some furniture later,” he said apologetically as he set her down.

“If we’re lucky we’ll be able to fit a bed and chair in here,” Annie laughed. “But for now the floor will do just fine.”

She pulled him on top of her, and he sank gratefully into her embrace. Their clothes came off in a tangle of arms and legs once they began kissing again.

Evan groaned with desire as she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him forward. He pushed inside her tight channel, loving every mew and moan she made beneath him.

“I never would have survived at Grand Central if it hadn’t been for you, Annie,” he whispered. “Having you to live for . . . you saved me.”

Annie kissed him, her face wet with tears against his. “And here I was, thinking that you saved
me
.”

EMILY

Emily leaned over
the edge of the boat carefully to help Mason haul in the net full of fish.

“Good catch today,” she said, smiling to cover her discomfort. The smell of the fresh fish made her nauseated, and she took a few breaths through her nose.
Whoa.

“Food’s easy here,” he agreed, his bare, muscled arms wet with seawater.

“Should we . . . should we stay, do you think?” Emily asked.

She wasn’t sure what she wanted his answer to be. She loved being around her friends. But she missed their little cabin in the woods by the lake.

“I don’t know,” Mason said. “I like upstate New York. I like our place.”

“Me too.”

They quieted, and Emily knew they were both thinking about how they’d have no neighbors now at all, now that Samuel was gone.

“We don’t have to decide right away,” she said. “But maybe, maybe some of the people here will want to move upstate, too. Some people prefer hunting to fishing. There’s got to be a few good families here who would want to go back to New York. You know, be our neighbors.”

Mason nodded. “True. We can’t stay away too long, though, or someone might find our place and think it’s abandoned. We’ve got a full root cellar now, too.”

“Yeah.” Emily paused, unsure how Mason would take what she had to tell him. “There’s something else to take into consideration.”

Mason looked up from the fish and cocked his head. “What’s that?”

“Um . . . well, I haven’t had a period in two months.”

“Are you saying—”

She nodded, unable to help the hint of a smile that leapt to her lips. “I’m pregnant, Mason. I can feel it in my soul—well, that and the morning sickness. I just know. I didn’t want to say anything before, because I wasn’t really sure, and I was afraid you wouldn’t let me go with you to Grand Central, and I had to be there. I had to.”

“You should have told me when you missed your first period,” he said gruffly. “You’re damn right I wouldn’t have wanted you going into a battle pregnant.”

“I’m sorry.” Emily sighed and looked up at him. “But can we focus on the important thing, here?”

Suddenly, as if it had just hit him, the enormity of it—Mason’s face broke into a huge smile. “You’re
pregnant
.”

“I am.”

“You’re going to have . . . our baby.” He seemed at a loss for words. “Oh my God.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

She knew he’d be a bit freaked out, but they’d been living together as man and wife—albeit without any marriage license—ever since they’d escaped from Manhattan the first time. He knew she wanted a baby. That it was a possibility.

“Yes,” he laughed. “I’m okay. I’m—holy shit, are
you
okay? Do you need anything?”

Emily laughed. “I’m great. But now that everything’s out in the open, I should probably avoid gutting these fish.”

She raised her eyebrows, and he laughed, hauling her into his strong arms.

“God, I love you, Emily.” He leaned down and planted a tender kiss on her belly. “Let’s stay a little longer,” he added.

“Sounds good.” Emily kissed him back, grinning against his mouth. “I love you too, Mason. You’re gonna be a great Daddy.”

Mason stilled. “When Samuel—when he died, he said we’d be great parents. He didn’t . . . he didn’t know, did he? Did you tell him you might be pregnant?”

Emily shook her head. “No. I never said a word before now.”

Trent

It was Trent’s
turn to stand guard at the off-ramp on the freeway before Letliv, along with two others. They rotated shifts with the rest of the men in town, making sure anyone who came in did so with good intentions.

Before they’d liberated Grand Central, the only people who’d come by asking to stay had been Barker, Jenna, and Clarissa—and then a few others including Emily, Mason, and Samuel once Trent put out that radio call for assistance.

Now that people knew where they were, however, sometimes groups of a dozen or more would show up at a time. With most of the pre-Pulse population long gone, there was plenty of space for Letliv to expand as needed. As long as nobody tried to take over and run things, they were welcome.

It had been a little over a week after Lawrence had delivered the letters to the FEMA camp in Greenwich. They hadn’t heard anything, which made Trent wonder if the letters had reached the intended family members at all.

He wouldn’t put it past the government to simply read and destroy the correspondence, especially if they thought, as Colonel Lanche did, that everyone in Letliv was a “domestic terrorist.”

But that day, he spotted a group of men and women, even a few children, meandering up the highway.

“Check it out,” Trent said to his friend. “Two dozen folks?”

“Or more,” the guy said, pulling out his binoculars. As they got closer, the man dropped the binoculars in disbelief before picking them up again. “Oh my God.”

“What is it?” Trent asked, tempted to look through the scope on his rifle. But he didn’t want the people to see him and think he was aiming at them.

“My brother-in-law. I really think that’s my brother-in-law coming up the road, at the head of that group.”

“Really? Where’s he from?”

The man smiled. “Greenwich.”

Trent grinned. Their letters had made it, after all.

Most of the people who arrived had family in Letliv. A few had tagged along because they didn’t want to live in the camp if there was something better out there.

Even if it meant they’d have to figure out how to shelter and feed themselves.

“Hey,” Trent said, looking at the thin, disheveled crowd. “Any of you guys have a son named Evan? Eighteen-year-old?”

A man and the woman by his side raised their hands. Evan’s mom had her arm wrapped protectively around a little boy, maybe eight or nine years old.

“We’re Evan’s family,” she said. “He wrote to us. Is he okay?”

Trent laughed and nodded, pulling them through the crowd. “He’s great. And he’s gonna be so excited to see you.”

EVAN

Evan wiped the
sweat from his brow and went back to laying rocks in the inside corner of his cabin, preparing it for a little stove. He heard Trent coming through the orchard so he set down the stone and went out to meet him. The breeze felt good.

“Evan? Is that you?” a woman’s voice asked incredulously.

Mom?

Is that really—

“Mom!” Evan ran toward her, not caring about trying to look cool in front of Trent. He didn’t care about shit like that anymore. He didn’t care about a lot of the things that had seemed so important in high school, before the Pulse.

God, he’d missed her. He hugged his mom, hugged his dad, picked up his kid brother and hugged him too. When he was done he hugged his mom once more.

“I didn’t think I’d see you ever again,” he said, swallowing to keep from crying, a trick Annie had taught him on the Tracks once. It sorta worked.

“You’ve grown,” his mom said, tilting her head up to look at him. “You’re all grown-up.”

He blushed, feeling stupidly proud of something that wasn’t even his doing. Yeah, he’d gotten taller, gotten some more muscles. That was thanks to the good food and the hard labor here in Letliv.

But if he was a man now, it was really because of Annie.

“You’ve gotta meet my girlfriend,” Evan said. “She’s dying to meet you.”

Trent, who’d been hanging back, letting them have their privacy, grinned. “That would be my sister, Annie,” he added. “She’s probably helping Clarissa in the vegetable garden.”

Evan’s mom shook her head in wonderment. “It’s amazing what you guys have done here. Absolutely amazing.”

His father nodded in agreement, clapping Evan on the back. “You found a good place, son.”

“We’ll get you folks set up someplace nearby,” Trent said. “Come on, Evan, let’s give your family the fifty-cent tour of our town.”

“First rule of Letliv,” Evan said, taking his kid brother’s hand, “is to live and let live. Get it? Live and
Letliv
?”

The little boy smiled and squeezed Evan’s hand.

TRENT

Trent’s house was
packed that evening. A celebratory dinner was planned, with Annie, Evan and his family, Jenna and Barker, Emily and Mason . . . and, of course, Clarissa.

Clarissa.

What was he going to do about her? Love complicated things so much. Part of him wished he’d never realized the true extent of his feelings for her. Things would be simpler.

He wouldn’t have to worry about slipping up and telling her, for one. It was getting increasingly harder as the days went by to keep his secret.

But, God help him, he didn’t want to scare her off. Didn’t want her changing her mind about living with him.

She looked at him differently, sometimes. He’d catch her glances, and she’d turn away. Maybe she already knew.

If he didn’t tell her soon, he would be living a lie. If she didn’t want to be with him because he loved her, then she needed to know the truth.

Trent could hear her in the kitchen, setting the table with Annie while the rest of them sat around the fireplace in the living room, catching up. Sharing stories.

As much as possible, Evan seemed to be focusing on the good things. Like how he’d met Clarissa, Jenna, and Barker at his parents’ house. How he’d met Annie at the camp.

No talk of abuse. No talk of the horrors Colonel Lanche and Scar had inflicted upon them.

Tonight was a night for celebration.

With the stew cooking and the salad made, Clarissa and Annie came into the living room.

Emily smiled at Mason expectantly. “Can I tell them now?”

Mason froze. “Um, okay. Your call.”