Shoshanna Evers - The Pulse

JENNA

Jennawatched in horror as the soldiers dragged Taryn in front of Colonel Lanche. The soldiers had kept Taryn locked up somewhere at Grand Central, awaiting sentencing.

Colonel Lanche apparently didn’t like to execute people on Sundays.

“So you’re the girl who killed my soldier,” he spat, glowering at Taryn.

Taryn glared back, staring defiantly. She’d had two long nights of waiting. Jenna imagined it would have been kinder of the army to kill her straight off and get it over with. She choked back a sob.

Lanche turned to the man holding Taryn. “Tell us what happened.”

“We heard a shot, and came into a subway car to see Private Eric Andrews shot to death on top of a whore.” The soldier found Jenna in the crowd and pointed to her. “That whore. And this whore here,” he said, pushing Taryn forward, “held the smoking gun.”

Lanche shook his head. He looked into the crowd that had gathered. “This is my camp,” he screamed. “Do you really think you can get away with murder?” A vein bulged in his forehead.

The man was losing it, Jenna realized. Losing his hold on the citizens of the FEMA camp and losing the respect of the people who had once deemed him a savior.

“Were there any witnesses?” he asked.

The soldier gestured to Jenna. “She saw her friend shoot him.”

Jenna shook her head, unable to speak. She wouldn’t incriminate Taryn, not if she could help it.

Taryn looked at Jenna, her red-rimmed eyes calm. She seemed serene now, like she’d made peace with what had happened. “Tell them, Jenna. Tell them what Emily said about the radio.”

She heard Lanche make a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

Jenna looked at her friend and nodded, perspiration beading on her upper lip. She had to speak quickly before she was shut up—permanently. But as Jenna opened her mouth to spread the truth, Colonel Lanche lifted his rifle and pointed it at her.

“Go, Jenna, go!” Taryn cried. “Get out of here—don’t let them catch you too.”

Jenna didn’t even think; she turned and ran, zigzagging through the crowd. She heard Taryn screaming at the top of her lungs, “There’s a better life! There’s a radio, and America is rebuilding.”

The crowd murmured loudly amongst themselves, repeating what she said. Jenna could hear the wonderment in their voices, echoing behind her as she ran, ran through them all. “Get out of Grand Central,” Taryn cried, “and find a better life.”

A shot rang out, deafening in Jenna’s ears.

Jenna stopped in her tracks, the front exit from Grand Central just steps away in front of her, a ragged cry torn from her throat. Taryn’s tirade had been silenced. No more screams. Oh God , Jenna thought . No no no, it couldn’t . . . But she knew it had. Lanche had executed Taryn, right then and there in Grand Central Terminal, under the clock by the information booth where so many other public hearings were done.

Jenna wanted to turn back—wanted to run back up to Lanche, to shoot him with his own gun. Wanted to see Taryn’s body one last time before it went into a mass grave, an unfitting burial for such a beautiful young woman. A woman who tried, in her final moments, to save everyone at the Grand Central military camp. To free them from the tyranny they had been living under for the past year, living like animals. To free the women who prostituted themselves on the Tracks for a meal.

“Oh Taryn,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

EMILY

Emily kept hereyes peeled for smoke rising in the trees as she walked up 87, now two miles past the toll. It seemed to take forever, and the sun was setting dangerously fast. If she was wrong and she wasn’t tracking Mason, but another man, she’d have a serious problem when she walked in on his camp.

Hell, she’d have a serious problem even if it was Mason, considering he’d tried to ditch her.

But she needed to talk to him first.

She saw the light from the fire not far off the side of the road. Walking slowly, she drew near, close enough to feel the heat from the flames. Mason was nowhere in sight.

A voice came from behind a tree. “Stay back,” he said.

She froze, putting her hands in the air. “Mason?” she called. “It’s me. Emily.”

Mason stepped out from behind the tree, lowering his rifle. “Jesus, Emily, I nearly shot you.”

She lowered her arms. He looked angry.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Wait a minute. No she wasn’t—she was angry. And it was time to let him know that. “Mason, what you did wasn’t right.”

He looked flabbergasted. “What? Leaving you behind? It was the only right thing I’ve ever done. I can’t promise you security, not like what you had in the town.” He stepped toward her, staring down into her eyes with his deep blue ones.

“I don’t care,” she said. “You can’t make a decision like that for me.”

He sighed. “I see what this is about.”

Did he? Could he tell she’d fallen in love with him? Something told her he’d be scared off even further if she admitted the truth to him.

He looked at her, a serious expression on his face. “You’re proving a point. I get that. But you didn’t have to endanger your life to show me that you’re an independent woman.”

“Maybe I wanted to,” she said, sitting down by the fire. “And that’s my prerogative.”

“Well, you screwed up,” he said hotly. “Because now I have to take you back to town.”

Emily jumped up again. “Mason, no!” She touched his jawline, the stubble growing thick and coarse. “I want to stay with you. Please, please let me stay with you. I won’t slow you down, I swear.”

Mason laughed quietly. “Yes, you will. But I don’t care about that anymore. I want your company—God knows I do—but you made me promise to protect you. At this point, the best protection I can give you is not with me. It’s back in the town, with Brad.”

She scowled. “That’s another thing, you jerk,” she said. “How could you give me to another man? I’m not yours to give away!”

He winced at her words. “That wasn’t my intention, not at all.”

“So you were just content to see me be with another guy? That didn’t bother you?” She shook her head, all the anger draining out of her. Sadness filled its place. He really didn’t care about her, not past the promise he had made her after she had saved his life.

His feelings on the subject, she realized, were painfully clear.

“I’m sorry I came back when you don’t want me here,” she whispered.

Suddenly Mason’s mouth was on hers with a ferocity that left her breathless. “Does this feel like I don’t want you here?” he asked, kissing her again.

She couldn’t answer, not when she knew the truth. He had left her, and his actions spoke louder than his words ever could. But she loved him—and she’d take whatever he had to offer her, even if he couldn’t return her feelings. His mouth was hot against hers, his tongue deep in her mouth, tasting her, and she let herself forget everything except for the kiss.

He kissed down her neck, pulling her into his muscular arms, enfolding her against his chest. She couldn’t imagine being with any other man. She only wanted Mason, even if that meant she had to live on the streets and starve.

But would he understand that? Even if he did, his chivalry wouldn’t let him allow her to do that. But she wasn’t going to let him decide her future.

Emily dropped to her knees before him, tugging his pants down, freeing his hard cock. He inhaled sharply as she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, sucking it into her mouth. She had to show him how much she wanted to be with him, so he could understand.