The Thrust (3 page)

“Thank you. How many men do you have here, Ambassador?”

“We are four, on a mission to provide aid from the UN,” the man replied, and the other men nodded. “We’ve been brought in to help keep the peace. Our mission here today, however, is to deliver supplies . . . antibiotics, flashlights with batteries, and vitamins for nutrition.”

“All that, huh? And a working truck.” The truck was a goldmine. After the Pulse, most cars had simply stopped working, their electronics fried. Only the very old trucks still worked, and Lanche had already commandeered every one he could find.

“Unfortunately, we will need to take the truck back with us so that we might bring aid to other FEMA camps.”

“Are they expecting you?”

The ambassador paused, as if unsure of the meaning behind the question. “We had no way to inform you of our arrival. Please forgive the unexpected intrusion, I know you are a busy man.”

Lanche turned to Scar and Dobson. “Did you remove their weapons?”

“Yes, sir, per policy,” Scar said, and looked at Lanche with a glint in his eye. That soldier thought the way he did. Good. He’d need backup.

“We’ll take the supplies,” Lanche said. “Can we expect more?”

“Not at this time, Colonel,” the ambassador said. “We have a base of operations—”

“Where?” Lanche interuppted. “The UN building here in Manhattan is empty.”

The UN man smiled thinly. “That is, as you say, classified. Besides, the UN building is not on New York soil. Through a treaty agreement with the US government, technically the building and land are
extraterritorial
.”

“Fuck this.” Lanche unholstered his sidearm and shot the ambassador in the head, between the eyes.

Dobson jumped back in surprise. “Shit!”

“Shut the fuck up and kill the others,” Lanche barked.

But Dobson was frozen. Scar hefted his rifle and shot the other three men. It happened so quickly.

“Good work, Scar,” Lanche said. He’d never bothered to learn his soldier’s real name, since his nickname fit him and his ruined face so very well. “We’ll sleep safer tonight without globalist invaders in our camp.”

“Holy shit,” Dobson whispered. “They were from the UN! They were helping us.”

“Are you that stupid?” Lanche barked. “They would kill us all. Now get rid of these bodies and get some of our guys out there to unload the truck. We need those supplies.”

Scar grinned. “I knew you wouldn’t let those blue-hat fucks take over your camp.”

“Of course not. I have a responsibility to keep everyone here safe. That’s what we did here, Scar. Eliminated a threat.”

“Do you trust the safety of the medicine and vitamins, sir?” Scar asked thoughtfully. “It could be a trap. It’s not like foreigners have never tried to kill American soldiers before.”

“One way to find out. We’ve got a whole bunch of guinea pigs.” Lanche laughed. He felt high on adrenaline after killing men. It was almost better than sex.

“Bring me Annie,” Lanche ordered. “And that little bitch Evan.”

Evan sat back
on the hard orange seats in the subway car he was bunking in with Annie. He was the only male on the Tracks. Other than him, it was all the young, single women.

It was a punishment, of sorts, he imagined. Evan wondered if Colonel Lanche thought some of the soldiers who took liberties with the women on the Tracks would mess with him, too.

So far, no one had. No one but Scar, and that was all talk. So far.

Terrifying talk. Threats meant to break him down, to make him compliant. That first night Scar had threatened to pay him a visit, Evan had stayed up all night—first, ready for a fight. Then, resigned to getting raped. He lost a piece of his soul that night, shaking in his chains, naked and bruised from the previous day’s beating. Waiting for that visit.

All that fear, it was for nothing. Just another way to break him down. Because morning came uneventfully, and with it, another round of interrogations.

The worst had been when they’d hurt Annie, right in front of him. That made him talk, how could it not? But he’d done his best to not spill everything he knew about Barker, Jenna, and Clarissa. About Roy. About their guns, their ammo, their mission. Their whereabouts.

He’d hold out as long as he could.

When night fell, soldiers came down to the Tracks, meeting with the women, offering them food, stale cigarettes, and homemade gin. The women took what they had to offer and paid the price, because if they didn’t . . . well, there weren’t really any other options.

With her broken leg, Annie was an easy target. But she was so miserable, so combative, that most of the soldiers didn’t bother with her. Not when they had women in other subway cars parading around naked, embracing the chance to fuck for an extra ration.

Evan couldn’t blame them. Life wasn’t easy on the Tracks. But if he were a soldier, he’d have been one like Barker. One of the good ones.

God, it seemed so long ago he was in high school, getting ready to graduate. Worrying about finals and the prom. None of that mattered now. None of it existed, now.

And he’d never see his parents or brother again. Not since he escaped the FEMA camp in Greenwich to avoid the draft. It was so fucked up.

“Get up, bitches.”

The deep voice took him by surprise.
Not tonight. Don’t let tonight be the night.

It was Scar.

Annie whimpered and Evan moved instinctively in front of her, as if to protect her. Not that he could. The man was easily twice his size and armed to the teeth.

“The Colonel wants you both.”

“I’ve told him everything I know,” Evan said.

“Then maybe I should just kill you, if that’s the case,” Scar said.

“Wait—take me, I’ll talk to him,” Evan said. “But Annie’s leg is broken, just let her stay here, okay? Please don’t bring her into this.”

“Oh, you fucked her!” Scar laughed. “Nice. And here I thought you were a little fairy boy.”

Evan gritted his teeth. He hadn’t touched Annie. She’d taken care of him that night when the soldiers had beaten him so badly he could barely move. And she was a woman, anyway. Midtwenties, probably. What would she want with a kid like him?

“Let’s go, pretty boy.” Scar walked right past him, roughly pushing him aside, and grabbed Annie by the waist.

She shrieked when he tossed her over his shoulder, fireman-style.

“Leave her alone!” Evan yelled.

“No interrogation tonight, boy,” Scar said, walking out of the subway car with Annie. Evan scurried after, not willing to leave her alone in that monster’s hands. “The Colonel is going to help you.”

Evan didn’t like the sound of that.

By the time they got to Operations Control Center, or the OCC, as they called it, Annie had stopped fighting, lying limply in Scar’s arms.

He set her down in a chair, not bothering to watch out for her broken leg.

I would kill him if I could
, Evan thought. A big change from the boy who’d dodged a draft because he refused to hold a gun. But some men deserved killing.

“Where’s Colonel Lanche?” Evan asked.

“Taking care of some business in his office.” Scar laughed at that, although Evan couldn’t understand the joke.

“Are you okay?” Evan asked Annie.

She nodded silently.

“Hello, son,” Colonel Lanche said amiably when he walked in.

A fresh spot of blood darkened his collar. What the fuck was going on?

“Guess what Daddy’s got for his two favorite kids.” Lanche pulled a large, industrial-looking bottle out from behind his back, as if it were Christmas morning and he was surprising them with something wonderful.

“You’re not my father,” Evan grumbled under his breath.

But he wouldn’t push it too far. He hadn’t forgotten the humiliation Lanche had put him through by making him call him Daddy just to get a drink of water after they’d interrogated him for hours. Apparently, Lanche hadn’t forgotten either.

“These are vitamins. A surprise shipment of supplies came in. Limited supplies. I’m saving the vitamins for the pregnant women and for Annie, to help mend her leg,” Lanche announced. “Can’t heal a bone without any calcium, now can we?”

Annie looked at Evan, concern lining her pretty face.

“Are those . . . are those really vitamins?” Evan asked.

“Yup.”

“Why me?” Annie asked. “Why are you trying to help me?”

“Oh, Annie, Annie,” Colonel Lanche said, putting his arm around her thin shoulders as if they were family. “I have to take care of my people. Here. Take one.”

Lanche held a large, red pill out to her, and handed her a metal cup filled with treated water.

Annie took the pill in her hand and looked at Evan with questioning eyes.

“Let me take one,” Evan said.

If it were poison, then Annie would know not to take it. Because he wouldn’t put it past the Colonel to poison Annie to death in front of him just to get him to talk.

“Well, your growth does seem to be . . . stunted,” Lanche laughed. “You could probably use vitamins as well. Have you even gone through puberty yet?”

Evan didn’t answer, just scowled. Of course he’d gone through puberty. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t all big and muscular like the soldiers. He’d been on starvation rations for a year now.

Evan plucked the red pill out of Annie’s hand, took the water, and swallowed the pill.

The Colonel and Scar watched him with curiosity.

“How do you feel?” Lanche asked.

“Fine. It’s a vitamin, right? How am I supposed to feel?” Evan realized Lanche probably didn’t even know himself if the pills were safe.

“Guess those UN guys really did us a solid,” Scar mused.

UN guys?

Fear washed over him. Had the United Nations gotten to New York? Would there be a war?

But Lanche gave Scar a look, and Scar shut up.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” Lanche said. “Take the bottle, and take one a day. You’ll be better in no time.”

“Did you . . . did you get any pain pills from the UN?” Annie asked quietly.

She didn’t talk often about the pain, but Evan knew her leg hurt her all the time. That dick soldier who’d knocked her onto the Tracks had broken the long bone in her thigh, and it hadn’t set right. Still hadn’t healed at all, well over a month later.

“We did,” the Colonel said. “Got some morphine for emergencies. I can get one of the med techs from the infirmary to give you a shot. It’ll take all your pain away, for a while at least.”

Something wasn’t right. The Colonel was never nice for no reason.

“In fact,” Lanche said, “if Evan here tells me how many guns Barker and his friends have, how much ammo, what other weapons they have . . . I’ll get that shot for you right now.”

“Don’t tell them,” Annie said, looking up at Evan from her chair. “I can live with the pain.”

“Scar, bring back one of the med techs and a proper dose of morphine for my girl here. Lanche said. “I have a feeling she’ll be needing it.”

“Please, sir,” Evan said as Scar left them alone in the OCC. “Don’t do this.”

“My patience is wearing thin. I just had to shoot four fucking globalist blue-hat invaders to get you your precious vitamins, and what thanks do I get?” The Colonel spat on the floor by Annie’s feet. “You’re still in bed with the terrorists. And Annie here seems to be your only weak spot.”

Evan didn’t know what to do, what to say that wouldn’t make the situation worse.

Scar returned with a soldier holding a large syringe and a vial of medicine.

Lanche raised his hand and put it on Annie’s shoulder. “Tell me, Evan. How many guns? I already know he stole two. So at least two. How many more?”

At least six
, Evan thought. Maybe more now, now that they’d stolen guns off the bodies of the soldiers they’d killed. And the ammo. But they’d used up a lot of the ammo in the gunfight, when Roy was murdered.

Best for them not to know that. Evan didn’t want to show their hand, as it were. If Barker really was coming back to free them, and Evan was banking on the fact that they would—they’d need every element of surprise they could get.

“I can see in your eyes that you’re hiding something,” Lanche said. He shoved Annie onto the floor and she screamed as her leg buckled beneath her.

“Don’t,” Evan pleaded.

“It’s not me doing this to her,” Lanche said, and wrapped his meaty fist in the girl’s hair, pulling her back up to sit on the chair by her messy dark strands. “It’s you. You’re hurting her, Evan. But you can make it stop.”

“I don’t know anything—”

Lanche knocked Annie to the floor again, her screams echoing in the room.

“Your choice, son. Tell me now, and Annie gets a shot that makes all her pain disappear for a while. Don’t tell me, and you may as well kick her yourself.”

Tears blurred his vision. This wasn’t fair. He wished he didn’t know anything. Wished they’d killed him instead of taking him prisoner.

Wished that Annie wasn’t his weak spot.

Lanche yanked the girl up by her hair again, and Evan dropped to the floor, defeated.

“Okay, I’ll tell you.”

The room was silent except for Annie’s panting breath.

“I . . . I only saw two guns. Barker had one, and Jenna had one.” Evan looked at the floor, because if he looked at the Colonel, he’d know it was a lie.

“You can leave, soldier,” Lanche said to the med tech, and Scar pushed the soldier out of the OCC, closing the door behind him.

Annie watched the chance of relief disappear as quickly as it had come.

“I’ll have someone take you back to the Tracks,” Lanche said to Annie, ignoring her tearstained face. “And Scar, you can do whatever you’d like with Evan, since he’s a lying piece of terrorist-supporting shit.”

Scar grinned at him, and Evan closed his eyes.