The Escape (12 page)

By leading with an iron fist. Putting out sparks of revolt before they became fires. And if he had to turn a blind eye to his soldiers having some fun on the Tracks to keep the men happy to do his bidding, then so be it.

Fuck, he enjoyed the occasional bit of pussy himself. Why the hell not? It’s not like those whores had anything better to do with their time. They were just eaters, taking up valuable space and resources. May as well earn their keep.

Lanche looked at the two men he’d called into the OCC to strategize with.

They had been actual soldiers once, not like most of the men who now held guns and wore uniforms. They knew how to step in line and carry out orders without question. But they also knew how to think. And right now, he needed some thinkers.

“Men,” Lanche said, saluting Dobson and Scar. They saluted back sharply. “There’s been no word from the troops I sent out to find Private Barker and the woman, Clarissa, that he kidnapped. I believe that Barker has also lied about Jenna, a domestic terrorist and murderer, being found dead. I believe she’s alive and has rendezvoused with him and the other girl. He’s gone rogue, my friends.” Lanche liked the way that sounded, so he said it again. “He’s gone
rogue
. Stole two guns, stole two packs of supplies.”

“Colonel,” the man named Dobson said, “where are the troops? What happened to them? Shouldn’t they have returned by now?”

The other soldier, whose real name Lanche had never learned since everyone called him Scar, shook his head and interrupted. “There’s a lot of ground to cover. Barker and the girl—”

“Or girls, plural,” Dobson said.

“Well, they could have gone anywhere. Be anywhere. I don’t think it’s strange that the troops are still searching,” Scar finished. He looked at the Colonel. “What do you think, sir?”

“I wouldn’t have called you two here if I wasn’t concerned. But I can’t keep sending my best men after these terrorists if no one comes back.”

“Sir, with all due respect,” Scar said, “is it a danger to our camp if they just . . . disappear? Barker and the girls?”

“I can’t let a man get away with that. Stealing my guns, my supplies, my women. I can’t let a dangerous man who has inside knowledge of our camp go out there and raise up his own army against us!”

Dobson looked surprised. “But, sir, everyone else is dead. The streets are empty. We’ve gone door-to-door ourselves. You know that. There’s no one left to raise an army with. We’re it.”

The other soldier touched his namesake scar that ran across his cheek like an ugly railroad, and nodded. “True. But there are still a few pockets of roving vagrants. We’ve heard rumors from the citizens about gangs of men, prisoners who escaped, survivalist-types who refused to come to the FEMA camps in the first place. The ones we couldn’t catch. There are dangerous people out there.”

“That’s right, Scar. That’s right.” Colonel Lanche looked up at the dark interior of the room, focusing his gaze on one flickering candle. “And how do you think it makes our citizens feel, to know that at any time one of the soldiers whom they put their faith into—that one of those soldiers could at any time just go psycho and kidnap them and take them out into that dangerous world? This is the only safe place in the city. The only place. We need to bring Barker to justice.”

Dobson cocked his head. “Surely he’s dead by now. We could just
tell
everyone that he’s dead. Then the people will feel secure again.”

Lanche thought about the idea. But part of the problem, one that he wasn’t sure he wanted to share with his men yet, was that the citizens were talking amongst themselves, and they weren’t all talking about how scary it was that Barker and Clarissa were out there.

No, there were whispers in the air, whispers about how people were escaping, just like Taryn had told them they could do. The people were thinking about the possibility of another life, one away from Lanche’s martial law.

He had to instill fear in them. So much fear that they would stay the docile sheep that they were. These people, in this camp—this was going to be the seedling of a new nation, a new beginning. And he would be their leader.

He would start everything over, and do it right this time. No more democracy, no more pussyfooting around and letting people think they had a say in things, even when they didn’t. And fuck the Constitution. That was 1776. This was now, this was a new world. The old laws didn’t apply.

The people needed to be cowed into submission. Before those whispers in the air became shouts, became an uprising.

That could not and would not happen. Not if he had a say.

“I want you men to find our troops. Don’t search for Barker and the women, unless you find them while searching for the men who went after them. Find our truck, bring it back. But no matter what, you’ll both come back by nightfall so I don’t have to worry about you too.”

Dobson smiled, as if it was kind of Lanche to worry about them. Lanche put on his fatherly face and smiled back, so that his men would think he actually was concerned about their well-being, and not just the threat against his own dictatorship.

“Yes, sir,” Dobson said. “We’ll find your men.”

“What if we run across Barker and the women?” Scar asked.

“Shoot Barker on sight,” Lanche said. “And bring Clarissa and Jenna . . . home. To me.”

Interstate 95, heading east up the Atlantic coast

JENNA

Jenna shouldered her
pack and looked back at Clarissa and Roy. They’d been getting pretty chummy in the past couple of days.

Yeah, Roy looked like a different man with that haircut and the beard shaved off. Not too bad-looking, either. Perhaps Clarissa had noticed.

So far, there’d been no sign of anyone coming to look for them. Jenna had wanted to stay off the main interstate and just follow the coast, keeping right at the water’s edge, but had conceded to Barker when he had pointed out that I-95 would get them up the coast faster, with less twists and turns.

“We’re sitting ducks,” Jenna murmured under her breath.

“So you’ve said,” Barker replied.

Jenna looked at him and laughed. “Didn’t mean to complain, soldier. Just thinking out loud.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“What, soldier?”

“I swear to God, our next mission is finding new clothes. These uniforms, that’s what makes us sitting ducks.”

Roy took a couple of steps to catch up to them. “Couldn’t help but overhear. I know we’ve made moving fast a priority, but with the space between us and them, I think we can take the time to get off the road and find a proper place to sleep. Find some fresh clothes that aren’t walking targets, you know?”

“I agree with Roy,” Clarissa said.

“There’s a shocker,” Jenna mumbled, but she couldn’t blame the girl. After that first terrifying instant when they met, Roy had proven himself to be a good guy, and probably the only guy other than Barker who Clarissa felt safe around.

Halfway through the first full day on the road, Barker handed Roy a rifle, finally, after refusing to that first night. Jenna was glad they had another man able to fight for them if they needed it, but Barker seemed to have been waiting for Roy to prove he wouldn’t kill them.

“All right,” Barker said. “Let’s get off the road at the next exit.”

“Finally,” Jenna said. “I’m ready to collapse, and I’m sick of sleeping in cars. Let’s find a house.”

“Hang on. Roy, lemme see your gun.”

Roy frowned but unstrapped the rifle from around his chest and handed it to Barker.

“I need a minute,” Barker said, and sat on the pavement in front of one of the dead cars.

Jenna sat next to him. What the hell was going on?

Barker pulled something out of his pants pocket. He emptied the rounds from Roy’s rifle, and set them in his lap. Then he began toying with the rifle.

“What are you doing?” Jenna asked.

Clarissa and Roy took the rare moment of rest to sit as well, but Roy couldn’t peel his eyes off what Barker was doing to his gun.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Roy said softly. “You’ve had me walking around with a rifle that had no firing pin in it? Damn it, Barker, you could have gotten me killed!”

“What?” Clarissa asked, a look of shock on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Barker said. “But I had to make sure you were safe. I took the firing pin out just to make sure when I handed you the weapon you wouldn’t be able to use it on us. Now that we’ve been through a day and a night and some more time together, I trust you. Because you would have already used it on us, I imagine, if you wanted to.”

Roy looked furious. “What scenario, exactly, was going through your head, man? Did you think you’d wake up to the empty clicking of my rifle, and then you’d know you were right all along? Does my friendship with your dad mean
nothing
?”

“Crazier things have happened,” Barker said sharply. “I’ve got two women to protect. I had to be sure.”

Jenna frowned. Part of her wanted to shout that she could take care of herself just fine. She had her own gun, so did Clarissa. But the other part loved that Barker took her well-being so seriously.

Still, it had been a dangerous move.

“You should have told me. Here Clarissa and I thought all this time that Roy would be able to have our backs,” Jenna said softly. “What if they’d come after us? What if Roy went to shoot one down and couldn’t?”

“What’s done is done,” Barker said. “Now the rifle is ready to go.” He handed it to Roy.

Roy strapped it back on his chest and checked it thoroughly. “You’re nothing like your father, Barker. You’ve lost your ability to trust, to believe that there are still good people out there.”

“Fuck you, Roy.” Barker stood, staring him down. “This is a different world. I’ve just adapted, that’s all. And you know what? My father—my dad is dead. So maybe his way of doing things wasn’t the best, all right?”

Clarissa gasped, looking from one man to the other. “Come on, guys, let’s drop this. Like he said, it’s done. We can’t go back and change it. Now you have a good gun, okay, Roy?”

“He could have gotten me killed,” Roy said again.

“Drop it, Roy,” Jenna said. “Just drop it. Let’s get off the road before it gets dark so we can find a place to camp for the night.” She looked at Barker. “A house. I want a fucking bed.”

The four walked on, their eyes lifted to the green sign above them on the interstate. The next exit was in a quarter mile. They’d be getting off the road in Greenwich, Connecticut.

“I am so glad to be out of New York,” Clarissa whispered.

“Don’t let your guard down,” Barker warned. “We don’t know anything about what happened in Connecticut. For all we know, it’s worse than New York.”

Greenwich, Connecticut

Barker
kept his rifle up as they walked.

The town of Greenwich, Connecticut, was once home to some of the wealthiest people in America. Now the huge, once immaculately landscaped lawns were overgrown, the mansions in disrepair. “Where are all the people?” Jenna whispered.

“I don’t know,” he said. “This is weird.”

“I bet they’re all together at a FEMA camp somewhere, like we were in Grand Central,” Clarissa said.

“Lanche told us that we were the only ones left in the area. That the other camps were destroyed by sickness and riots,” Barker said.

“Don’t believe anything that man told you,” Roy said, keeping his rifle up as well. “He had ulterior motives.”

“Look at all this unused land,” Jenna said, pointing to a large mansion with columns on the front porch, surrounded by weeds. “Where are all the vegetable gardens? Didn’t people think to use this land to grow food?”

“Maybe there’re no people left to grow food for. What if the place is infected, what if there was a biological attack?” Roy said. “Maybe we should get back on the road.”

“We’re already here. May as well take our chances.” Barker smiled at Jenna. “And I promised my girl here a real bed.” He gestured to the mansion with his rifle. “Bet that house has some beds.”

“And clothes,” Jenna said excitedly.

“Hold your horses,” Roy said. “It may also have people living there. Either the owners, or squatters. We don’t want to get into a shoot-out, even if my rifle actually works now.”

Barker didn’t respond. He could bitch about the firing pin thing all he wanted, but the fact remained that Barker did what he felt was safest for them all. And Roy had proven he wasn’t going to kill them the moment they let their guard down, so what was the big deal? He had his fucking gun now. Roy should shut up about it already.

“Let’s go,” Barker said.

They advanced toward the house, walking up the long driveway. Long weeds grew up between the cracks in the pavement. No cars were parked there.

“Maybe they were all out at work when the Pulse hit?” Jenna mused.

“They would have found a way back, though. Everyone tried to go home first,” Barker said. “I think we should knock.”

“I’ll do it.” Roy got to the front door, while the others hung back. He knocked on the tall wooden door with the bronze knocker shaped like a lion’s head. No answer.

“Is anyone home? We’re not looking for trouble,” Roy yelled.

Barker held his breath, expecting a sniper to poke his rifle out from one of the top-story windows at any moment. But there was only silence.

“Is it open?” Clarissa asked.

Roy tried to open the door, and it fell open easily, as if the lock had been jimmied.

Then Jenna saw something on the side of one of the columns. Black spray paint. A big circle with an X through it, and the numbers 4 and 4.

“What’s that?” she asked Barker.

“It means the house was searched. They found four people, and all four were alive. They must have taken them.”

“Maybe they went willingly. Maybe they ran out of food.”

“Yeah,” Roy said. “Or maybe they were so stupid they thought that living in a FEMA camp would be safer than staying put.”

“You don’t know what this family went through,” Clarissa said. “They could have been attacked. They could have been sick. They could have been starving, or scared, or there could have been riots. Maybe the camp was the safest place for them at the time.”

“Bullshit,” Roy said, and it was the first time Barker heard him speak harshly to the girl. “Sheltering in place, that’s what would have kept them alive. They had land. They could have grown food. They’re probably all dead now, like the rest.”

“With what?” Jenna asked. “Who has seeds lying around, enough to live on? This family had a landscaper.”

“She’s right,” Clarissa added. “None of the plants here were meant to be eaten. It was all decorative.”

“Fat lot of good their money did them now,” Roy muttered.

“Said the man who owned a sailing yacht,” Barker said under his breath.

“Yeah, and the government confiscated it.”

“You guys, shut up.” Jenna gestured around aimlessly. “Where’s the camp? Where would it be?”

“I don’t know,” Barker said. “They probably have a convention center or something they used. We need to stay out of the downtown area, away from anywhere they may have set up a group shelter.”

“I’m going in,” Roy said. He lifted his rifle and entered the house.

Barker followed, and the women. The grand foyer was huge, with a chandelier hanging above their heads, covered in cobwebs. The furniture was piled against the front windows.

“They made a barricade,” Barker whispered.

“Who was shooting at them?” Jenna asked.

“Gangs, maybe. People fleeing other areas. Who knows?” Barker wandered through each room. “Roy,” he said. “Let’s make sure the house is empty. After each room, shout ‘clear’ if it is, okay?”

Roy hesitated, as if unsure whether or not he wanted to take orders from his friend’s son, but then nodded. He headed to the kitchen off to the right. “Clear!” he called.

“We’ll get the upstairs,” Jenna said.

“No!” Barker said. “Stay here, where it’s safe.”

“How about fuck you and your damsel-in-distress bullshit,” Jenna said, and grabbed Clarissa’s hand.

Jenna led Clarissa
up the grand staircase to the second level of the huge house—mansion—whatever the hell you’d call the insanely big, stately home they’d just invaded.

After a few steps, Clarissa dropped her hand and hefted her rifle. Jenna followed suit.

“Should we spread out upstairs?” Clarissa asked.

“Yeah, okay.”

Jenna went to the right and Clarissa went to the left. The first room down the hall was open, so Jenna went in and looked through it, including opening the closet.

Clothes!
Women’s clothes, filling the interior of the large walk-in closet.

“Clear,” she yelled.

She’d have to leave the clothes for now to check out the other rooms, but she’d be back. Wearing the soldier’s uniform was starting to stain her soul.

“Clear,” she heard Clarissa call from the other wing.

The next room was a boy’s bedroom, with an elaborate spaceship design, and little lights across the ceiling that Jenna imagined used to light up like the starry night sky when the boy fell asleep.

Where was that boy now? Where was this family?

“Clear,” she yelled.

“Clear here too,” Clarissa yelled back.

It took another ten minutes, but Jenna finished checking each room for occupants, calling out that each room was clear as she finished.

Then she heard Clarissa scream. “Help!”

Jenna ran toward her, her rifle up. “Clarissa, where are you?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m here. There’s a boy here.”

Jenna found her, following her voice, into what seemed to be a recreation room complete with a pool table.

But it was no child standing in the corner. A fully-grown teenage boy stood holding a baseball bat in his hands, staring at the barrel of Clarissa’s rifle. His ruffled blondish-brown hair stood up all over the place, as if he hadn’t bothered to comb it in ages, his sweet-looking, almost effeminate face at odds with his defensive posturing. He clung to the bat with his skinny arms as if ready to charge.

“Drop the bat,” Jenna said calmly.

There was a loud clomping on the stairs as Barker and Roy ran up to find them.

“No,” the boy said. “You drop your guns.”

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Clarissa said. “Just drop the bat. Please. Before the men come upstairs.” She spoke so sweetly, so softly, that the boy seemed mesmerized. Or maybe it was just that she was so beautiful.

“Fuck,”
he said, and laid the bat on the floor. He kept his hands up, the way criminals do on cop shows.

“What’s wrong?” Barker demanded, running in with Roy next to him.

“Hold your fire,” Jenna said. “It’s just a kid.” She looked at the teenager. “What’s your name, hon?”

“Evan,” he said. “What are you doing in my house?”

“We’re very sorry, we thought the house was empty,” Jenna said, lowering her rifle. Clarissa did the same, but out of the corner of her eye she could see both Barker and Roy still had theirs raised.

“It was. I came back.”

“Where’re your parents?” Clarissa asked.

“Don’t know. We got separated. I came back to see if they were here.”

“How long have you been living here, alone?”

He didn’t answer. “Are you the army?” he asked, gesturing to Barker’s and Jenna’s uniforms.

“No. We’re not,” Jenna said quickly. “In fact, we were hoping to borrow some normal clothes.”

“Steal them, you mean.”

Jenna nodded. “Yeah. We didn’t know you were here. Didn’t think anyone would miss them.”

“I’ve been here for two weeks,” Evan said. “My parents are at the camp. I know where they are, okay? And I’m not a kid. I just turned eighteen.”

Jenna cocked her head, looking at his thin, immature body, his young face that was more pretty than handsome. “Yeah, right.”

“You try eating two cups of food a day when you’re growing and see how you do,” Evan said with a scowl.

“So why did you leave?” Barker asked. “Where’s the camp?”

“I’m not going back, and I’m not telling you shit,” the boy said, suddenly standing up straighter, staring Barker down.

Holy crap, kids thought they were invincible. No fear.

“We’re not the enemy,” Clarissa said quietly. “We just want to know what’s going on. We don’t know much about what happened in Connecticut. Maybe you can help fill in some of the blanks.”

“They did a draft,” Evan said finally. “Every man over eighteen and under fifty had to join. My parents told me to leave because they were scared I’d get shot.”

“A draft?” Roy asked, lowering his rifle. “Why? Who are they fighting?”

“The authorities at the camp said they had, you know, intel. Heard that the UN was coming to help soon, that they’d need us to be ready. But some folks said they weren’t coming to help—they would take over. That the EMP attack was meant to reduce our numbers, to concentrate us, without destroying all of our natural resources.”

“Well, yeah,” Jenna said, “but no one’s invaded. It’s been a year since the Pulse.”

“But they will,” Evan said. “The army is preparing for it. They don’t know when it will happen, but they think soon.”

“Why?” Clarissa asked. “Why now, after all this time?”

“Dunno exactly,” Evan said. “Something about it taking a year for ninety percent of the population to die off.” Evan shrugged his thin shoulders. “They knew this could happen, that’s what they said. That they knew. Guess it would’ve cost too much money to protect the grid from an EMP, so they just . . . didn’t.”

Jenna couldn’t remember ever hearing about the possibility of an EMP attack on US soil. Ever. How did this kid know so much more than they did?

“Where did these . . . um, authorities get this intel?”

“The radio,” Evan said. “They had a radio, one that worked. And there was a transmission. We didn’t hear it, the people in the camp, I mean. But the authorities did, and they told us, and that’s why they had the draft. And then I left.”

“How did you escape?” Roy asked. “Because when I escaped a camp, Barker’s dad here was shot and killed.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” the boy said. “I don’t even know you.”

“What are you going to do?” Clarissa asked gently. “Just stay here, alone in this big house?”

“Let me guess, you wanna move in,” Evan said. “I know, it’s been done before. All my mom’s jewelry has been taken. The safe broken into. My dad used to keep gold coins and a pistol, that’s gone. All the batteries too. Someone took a shit in my living room.”

“People are gross,” Clarissa said, and smiled just a little.

To Jenna’s surprise, Evan laughed. “Yeah. I’ve been using the toilet and just not flushing it, so that’s pretty gross too.”

Clarissa laughed, and Jenna realized what she was doing—the same sort of thing Jenna had always done so easily on the Tracks. She was making the kid comfortable, making him like her, so that he’d relax and not be dangerous to them.

“My name’s Clarissa,” she said, and smiled. “This is Jenna. That’s Barker, and Roy.”

Both of the men lowered their rifles, and Jenna breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted was an innocent teenager on her kill count.

“Are you going to leave?” Evan asked.

“We can leave,” Clarissa said, “if you need us to. Although we’d love a place to stay the night, and I see you’ve got lots of room here. We won’t mess anything up. And if you’d let us, maybe we could get some fresh clothes.”

Evan sighed. “And then what?”

“We leave, in the morning. We’re traveling up the coast.”

“You can stay,” Evan said, “and you can take whatever you need. On one condition.”

Jenna smiled. This kid had balls. Four people with four rifles and him in the corner, and he’s naming conditions.

“What?” Barker asked.

“Take me with you,” Evan said. “I want to get as far away from here as possible. Somewhere safe. You guys have guns, you’ll be able to keep me safe from them.”