The Escape (24 page)

“I bet Trent would join us, to get Annie back. But we need more than just Trent. If we’re going up against all of the soldiers at Grand Central, then we’ll need an army.”

Jenna nodded. “Not if we can convince the soldiers not to fight us.”

Barker laughed. “That would be nice.”

“It’s not totally crazy. You woke up, after all. There have to be some good guys there. Some, at least. Maybe enough to convince the others to let everyone go.”

“Are you worried about that message on the radio?” Barker asked. “The . . . the psyop?”

“If it’s true, if America is being invaded, like Evan had talked about—you know, with that draft? Then . . . we’re going to need a much bigger army than we thought.”

“That’s too much to deal with right now,” Barker said. “We need to focus on getting Grand Central back before we can think about getting America back.”

“How are we going to do it?” Jenna asked. “Any suggestions?”

Barker tried to think about it, but her body was tantalizingly close, and it was distracting him. “Can we talk battle plans in the morning? At some point, we need to relax and unwind.”

He kissed her ear, suckling on the lobe until her breath caught.

“What do you think about what Trent said about finding a place to stay in Letliv?” she asked.

Barker ran his tongue down her neck, dipping it into her décolletage. The idea of making a permanent home, somewhere that they could live freely, and actually enjoy life . . .

“It sounds like heaven,” he said.

“You know what’s heaven?” Jenna said, guiding his head back to her lips. “This. Being with you.”

His heart wrenched at the words. She couldn’t possibly know how much it meant to him, for her to say that. That she felt that way.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” he said.

“Hey,” she whispered. “Just in case you didn’t know, I only want to be with you. No one else.”

How could such a wonderful sentiment hurt so much?

Because,
he realized,
I love her.

Would she—could she—ever love him back?

Fucking hell, he loved her. But loving Jenna was a risky thing to do with his heart. Especially if they were truly planning on leaving the safety of Letliv to free the citizens at Grand Central.

“I want to be with you too,” he said. “But I don’t want you to come back to Grand Central when we make our move. It’s too dangerous.”

Jenna shook her head. “No way I’m letting you do that without me. I have more of an axe to grind than anybody when it comes to Colonel Lanche. I’m saving a bullet for him.”

“I forgot you’re not the damsel-in-distress type,” he said.

“No, but I play the part well,” she smiled. “Remember when you captured me and tried to bring me back to him?”

Barker winced. “I was hoping you’d forget.”

“You’ve made it up to me since then,” she whispered, and kissed him deeply.

His cock hardened against her soft thigh, and he pushed himself up to lie on top of her.

“I’m going to make it up to you for as long as I can,” he said.

Jenna wrapped her legs around him, drawing him inside her. She felt so good, the wet heat of her pussy clamped on his cock.

They rocked together, their bodies moving as one. Jenna gasped when she came, stifling her cries of passion.

The sound sent him over the edge. He came hard, bucking his hips, thrusting into her as fast as he could, riding her through his orgasm until she came again beneath him.

When the last spasm went through her, he collapsed, laying his forehead on the floor by her blonde hair.

Her ear was so close to his lips. He was dying to tell her. Even if she didn’t love him back. Even if they might die tomorrow.

He still loved her.

“I . . .” Fuck. Telling her now would feel so right. But it could ruin everything.

“You what?” she asked, turning her face to look at him.

“Nothing,” he whispered.

“Okay,” she said quietly, rolling out from under him and snuggling against his chest. “Good night, Barker.”

He waited until her breathing had evened out, until her face was lax, her body relaxed. She was asleep.

“I love you, Jenna.”

Main Street was
bustling the following morning, with almost everyone in Letliv assembled, carrying baskets and bins of produce, eggs, and fish. A woman who must be Sharon had a table set up with jars of raw milk.

Jenna watched as Trent stood by the posting board and put up his note.

If only she had better news for the people—if she could tell them that she knew for certain that their families and friends were living at Grand Central.

“Hey,” Sharon called from her table. “What’s the note say?”

Trent frowned. “There was a new transmission on the radio last night. It sounds like the globalists are making a move on America after all.”

Suddenly it was quiet. The talking stopped. The only sounds were of some children laughing and jumping rope on the sidewalk.

“What do you mean?” Sharon asked.

Trent relayed the message from the UN, nearly word for word. Jenna was amazed he was able to quote it so well after hearing the broadcast only once. But apparently the thought of UN troops coming to America as “peacekeepers” really freaked him out. From the looks on the townspeople’s faces, it scared them too.

“I don’t know anything else. We’ll have to keep our eyes and ears open. But about the people in New York . . .” Trent looked at Jenna. “You can tell them.”

Jenna took a deep breath and spoke loudly, across the throng of people. “I’m sorry,” she said.

No one spoke. No one moved. All eyes were on her.

“We looked over the list,” Jenna said. “We recognized two names, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t more there, people whose names we just don’t know.”

“My sister Annie is there,” Trent said, and to Jenna’s surprise, everyone clapped. “And possibly Mary Jenkins, although Mary is a common name.”

A woman in the crowd looked heavenward with a smile.

“Grand Central is under martial law,” Jenna continued. “The leader is Colonel Lanche, and he’s corrupt. Very corrupt. All of the women have separate sleeping quarters from the men, but it’s . . . it’s turned bad. Many of the women are being abused and raped, or forced to prostitute themselves to survive.”

There were murmurs among the people.

“My friend Taryn was executed, and I was next but I escaped. Barker here was an unwilling soldier, and he escaped as well, with Clarissa.”

Jenna paused. How could she tell them everything, explain everything so that they’d understand that they needed to free the citizens of Grand Central?

“You have something amazing here,” she said. “Freedom. A chance to live. Food, community. We were starving at Grand Central. People were shot just for talking about things the Colonel deemed off-limits. Our very group has been labeled terrorists. They killed our friend Roy.”

She looked at Barker, unsure how to continue.

He stepped up and took her trembling hand.

“We need to go back to Grand Central,” Barker said, his voice carrying across the marketplace. “To free the people there. To free Annie, and Mary, and all of the other women who are being abused. To free a boy named Evan, who was taken hostage. And if we’re lucky, maybe we can even wake up some of the soldiers, if there are any like me, who see the injustices being done and don’t want to take part anymore.”

Trent nodded. “I can’t ask you to risk everything,” he said, addressing the people. “I can’t ask you to risk what we have here in Letliv for my sister, or for the others. But I’m going with them, to fight. Because when those people went to Grand Central for help, they weren’t expecting it to turn into a prison. They have a right to be free, like us.”

The crowd was silent, and Jenna knew then. Knew that no one would help, just like no one had helped them at the camp. It was too hard to fight when it was so easy to sit back and do nothing.

A man in the crowd raised his hand. Jenna waited for him to tell them that they were crazy to risk their lives, that they were insane for even thinking about presenting the idea to the town. The idea of a battle.

But then the man said, “I’ll join you.”

Jenna gasped.

More hands raised. Mostly men, but quite a few women. Women, perhaps, who would want to know—if they were ever in a similar situation as the girls on the Tracks, good people would fight for them, too.

“We have to prepare,” Trent said. “We can’t do this without a plan. But we can do it. And we can set those people free.”

Jenna turned to smile at Clarissa, but Clarissa was watching Trent with tears rolling down her face.

“I know how the soldiers work,” Barker added. “We won’t be going in blind.”

The people began talking among themselves, the crowd animated, excited.

Trent raised his voice above the rabble. “First thing everyone should do is take inventory of their weapons and ammo. Anyone who is willing can join us at the church tomorrow morning to start forming a plan.”

“Thank you, Trent,” Jenna said. “For helping us.”

“The battle’s not over yet,” he said. “It hasn’t even begun. We might lose some of those volunteers before the time comes, or gain others. I won’t lead the people of Letliv into a slaughter. We need to do this right.”

“We will,” Barker said.

God, he seemed so sure. So confident. She wrapped her arm around his waist, wishing some of his calmness could seep into her by osmosis.

“We should figure out where we’re going to stay here in Letliv for the time being,” Barker said to her. “We can’t stay on Trent’s floor forever.”

She nodded, looking up at him.

“You do want to live with me, right?” he asked.

Jenna smiled. “Yes.”

“Good, because I want to live with you, too.”

She hugged him fiercely. “You’re a good man, Barker. I’m lucky I found you.”

“Actually, I found you, remember?”

“I don’t want you to get killed,” she whispered. “I love you too much.”

Barker pulled back and looked at her. “What did you say?”

Oh God, what did she say?

“That just slipped out,” she said.

“I know, but did you mean it?”

Of course she meant it. Fuck, she wasn’t the sort of woman to hold anything back. Why start now?

“Yes, I meant it. I love you, Barker.”

“I love you too, Jenna. And I don’t want to lose you either.” He kissed her, hard, and she kissed him back.

If he loved her, then it would all be okay. It would work out. Even if they had to die to set things right in New York—or, hell, in the rest of America, if it came down to it—it would all work out.

But Jenna wasn’t planning on dying anytime soon.

“Don’t we have a date to go sailing?” she asked, smiling up at him.

“That we do.”

Barker took her hand and they walked down to the docks. God, it felt so good to be with him. So right.

The salty sea air tasted like freedom.

“Hey, man,” Barker called to a young guy raising the sails on a worn boat. “Can we give you hand?”

The man nodded. “The New Yorkers! Welcome aboard. Know how to fish?”

“It’s been a while, but I’m hoping it’s like riding a bike,” Jenna grinned.

When the boat got under way, Barker wrapped his arm around Jenna’s waist, hugging her to him tightly.

The wind flowed through her hair, and she smiled up at the sun.

Thank you, God, for giving me this moment.

And for him. Thank you for giving me Ken Barker.

It was the best prayer she’d said all year.

“We’re going to make it through all this,” Barker whispered in her ear. “And we’re going to go fishing whenever we want.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she laughed.

“How about this for a plan? I’ll bring home the fish, and you can fry them up for dinner.”

Jenna raised her eyebrows, smiling. “Maybe I’ll be late with dinner on purpose, so you can spank your fifties housewife.”

“I’d rather take you to bed early if there’s no supper on the table,” Barker said. “I think we could make good use of the extra time together.”

Mmmm. “That sounds about right.”

And he kissed her.

Clarissa looked over
at the docks, watching Barker and Jenna embrace on the boat. They looked so happy together, so strong, despite everything that was happening.

Was America really being invaded? Could she even trust anything that came through on that radio at all?

It was that radio that said that Grand Central was safe, and God knew that was a lie.

“Hey,” Trent said, coming up to her. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, brushing her tears away with the back of her hand. “I’m really glad we’re going back to get Annie and Evan and everyone. But it’s so dangerous. Those soldiers . . . They killed Roy. It happened so fast. One moment he was alive, the next . . .”

“I’m . . . really sorry for your loss,” Trent said.

“I guess we’ve all lost someone.”

“My wife,” Trent said. “She died shortly after the grid went down. After her insulin ran out.”

She looked up at him. “That’s where you got those flowered oven mitts.”

“Yeah.” Trent smiled.

Her hand fluttered to her neck before she remembered her necklace, her only picture of her daughter, was gone.

Trent stood silently next to her, looking out at the people of Letliv, his handsome face so serious.

“My friends are going to live together,” she said finally. “I couldn’t help but overhear them.”

“They’re in love,” Trent said. “I could see that coming a mile away. Barker looks at her the way I used to look at my wife.”

“She loves him too. Took her long enough to realize it,” Clarissa smiled. “I shouldn’t stay with them. They should have their privacy.”

“Are you asking to bunk with me?”

She blushed, shaking her head. But Trent took her hand in his large one and turned to her, overwhelming her with his sheer size and muscularity.

“You can, if you want. You could move into my room—”

“No,” she whispered, putting her palm on his chest to stop him, stop him before he scared her. And yet, when she touched him, there was no fear. Only the warmth of his skin radiating through his shirt.