The Terrorist (Lens Book 3)

by J B Cantwell

  “All of you? How many are you?”

  “Thirteen left, including myself. Mom, we need help. We’re starving, and without a designation …”

  “Got it,” she said. Her eyes went out of focus as she looked at her lens readout. “Seven o’clock. The food station should be opening about now.” She paused, looking embarrassed. “I don’t have that much money, though. Do you have any?”

  I shook my head, heart falling into my stomach.

  “When do you get your stipend next?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Not for another two weeks. And you know it’s not much.”

  “It will have to be enough, if you’re willing to share it with us.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t mind sharing. And I can ask Jim for money, too. He might—”

  “No,” I said. “Don’t get anyone else involved. Please. We don’t know who the Service has under their watch. I had been wondering if I could even trust … I mean, I didn’t know …”

  “You were wondering if you could trust me,” she stated. Her voice was emotionless. “Don’t worry about that now. You can.” She put her hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “You can.”

  Chapter Four

  An hour later I was lying, exhausted, on Mom’s couch. The front door slammed shut, jolting me awake. I sat up and grabbed for my gun, ready for a fight, aiming it toward the hallway where someone was entering the apartment.

  “Oh, my God!” Mom said as she rounded the corner. “Riley! I didn’t—”

  I lowered the gun, breathing hard.

  “I’m sorry. I just thought you were … someone else. Someone sent for me. Sorry.”

  She let the plastic bag drop to the floor, leaning against the wall behind her and catching her breath.

  “It’s okay,” she said between gasps. “No. Really. I don’t blame you.”

  She leaned over and picked up the bag, tossing it in my direction. I peered inside and found five sleeves of nutrition squares.

  Jackpot.

  “Oh, Mom. Thank you so much.”

  “Of course. There’s a way we can get more, too. Victoria down the hall is a drunk, just like I used to be. After you left, and the money left with you, I learned how to make liquor in the bath tub. It’s not that hard, but it’ll take some time. If we can do it right, Victoria will buy from us. We can charge less than the grocery station, and it’ll get her just as drunk as the junk they sell there. I can teach you.”

  “Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

  Already I was tearing into one of the sleeves and grabbing for a square. I took a big bite of one, then realized how dry my mouth was.

  “Can you get me some water?” I asked, nearly choking on the crumbs.

  “Of course.” She rushed into the kitchen and poured me a glass, hurrying back to offer it to me.

  “Thanks,” I said, gulping it down.

  “You said you all are starving?” she asked. “You might want to go slow on that square, then. It’ll hit your stomach like a brick.”

  I knew this was true, but I continued to stuff myself. I should have been saving it for the rest of the group, but I was so hungry, I couldn’t help it.

  Soon, I was full to the top with the hard, chalky squares, and I lay back onto the couch cushions. The sun was up in earnest now; there would be no more travel for me until night fell again.

  “You should go into your room,” she said, just as I was starting to doze. “You’ll be more comfortable in there.”

  She reached over and put out her hand. I took it, and she hoisted me up. I felt confused and weak. Raw. She led me into my old bedroom, and I saw that nothing in there had changed, with the exception, perhaps, of the bed having been made. I crawled on top of it, and she pulled off my wet boots.

  “Geez, Riley. Where have you been? You’re soaked.”

  It was a hint I hadn’t meant to give her.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said, crawling beneath the covers as she peeled off my wet socks.

  “I’ll get you something else. You just stay here.”

  I did stay there, but if she came back, I didn’t notice. I was far away by then, lost somewhere in a dream landscape, comfortable and warm for the first time in many days.

  But I was no fool. I had my gun cocked and loaded, waiting for me at my side.

  When I woke several hours later, I noticed that the curtains had been drawn. I stretched lazily, enjoying the luxury of sleeping in a real bed with a real, warm blanket. And with some privacy. I’d been changing in and out of my clothes in front of everyone in the Service for the past two years. It was nice to be in a space no one could see into.

  I got up and peeked outside. The sun was setting somewhere out there, and darkness was starting to fall.

  I picked up my gun and put the safety back on, then stuffed it into the back of my pants.

  I walked out into the living room and took another small handful of nutrition squares, munching as I looked around.

  Mom came walking out from her bedroom.

  “Oh! You’re up. Good. I’ve gotten you more squares, and a backpack, too.”

  “Wait, what?” I said. “Where did you get more squares?”

  “I borrowed the money from my friend Jim. Now, don’t worry.” She put up her hands, indicating I shouldn’t panic, which is exactly what I was doing. “I didn’t tell him what it was for.”

  “Mom. What makes you think that this guy is safe? You might’ve been told that I was dead, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe for me to be around. Please. Don’t do it again. We can make do with what we have.”

  It wasn’t true, of course, that we could make do without outside help. Her help. But if she told him the truth about us … I was suddenly regretting that I’d told her as much as I had. Not because I didn’t trust her, but because I didn’t trust the people around her. What would she tell this Victoria person about why she needed extra money? And what about Jim? Wouldn’t he have questions?

  “I have to get out of here,” I said suddenly. “Where did you put my boots?” I went back into the bedroom and began scrambling around, looking for them.

  “Just wait,” she called from the hallway. “I have an old pair of your regular boots. And they’re already dry.” She walked into my room with a pair of fake army boots, not unlike the ones I had worn when I’d joined the Service.

  Then a thought occurred to me.

  Socks.

  I rushed to my chest of drawers and found six pairs of white, relatively clean socks. Dry socks. I stuffed them into the pack and zipped it up tight.

  “You may as well give me the wet ones, too. I’ll be back in the water in an hour anyway.”

  “Back in the water?” Her face was curious, but not accusatory.

  “I don’t think I should tell you much more,” I said. “It’s not safe. If they pick you up …”

  Her face fell for a moment, then brightened again.

  “Right. You’re right.”

  “What do you look so happy for?” I asked.

  She shrugged.

  “I don’t know. It’s—well, it’s sort of exciting, isn’t it?”

  I furrowed my brows at her. Was she kidding?

  She backpedaled.

  “I just mean, I guess it’s nice to be doing something good for once. You know?”

  I knew. I picked up the backpack and headed for the back window.

  “Wait,” she said. “Don’t forget these.” She held out the new bag of squares she’d bought. “I went to a different grocery station,” she said proudly.

  “Thanks, Mom.” I took the bag from her outstretched hand and stuffed it in the pack next to the socks. The dry boots I tied together by the laces and slung them over my back. “I need to go.”

  “Will I see you again?” she asked.

  I paused, unsure of my answer. But I had little choice.

  “Yes, I imagine you will.”

  Suddenly, her eyes filled up with tears. She approached me and held me in a hu
g I did not return. But she didn’t seem to care. “Be careful,” she said into my ear.

  “I will. I promise.”

  I stepped through the open window and started making my way down the fire escape and into the shallow water below.

  I hid near the back entrance to the grocery station, watching as the homeless and hungry lined up one by one to take whatever ruined food had been leftover from the day. I was in a back alley where no one else had gathered.

  So when the hand landed on my shoulder and pulled me around, it was all I could do to not scream with surprise and fear.

  It was Melanie.

  “Oh, my God. You scared the hell out of me.”

  “We have to go,” she said quietly. “There’s no food for us here. Not until later, just before dawn.”

  “Have you been out here all night waiting to get something to eat?”

  “No, we’ve been waiting for you. But he got to us first.”

  She pulled me by the arm and led me into a small doorway in the side of one of the buildings.

  “Who?”

  “He said his name is Jonathan.”

  “What?”

  “He found us last night. He says you know him. Then he handed me a stack of ration cards and told me to keep hiding until dawn, that there would be a man at the back entrance who could help us. He told me to tell you to leave a stone.”

  I was reeling. How had he found us? With no chips to track us with, he must’ve waited for days and days.

  “It’s leave no stone. It’s a password.” I stood there, still confused.

  “He said he’d heard about the Burn going down. Since then, he’s been looking for you all over Brooklyn. He seemed really relieved when I told him you were still alive.”

  “But why did he give you the ration cards? And where did he even get them?”

  “I didn’t ask him that. I was just happy that we could get our hands on some food. I only bought the crackers, though. I figured we’d better wait and see how many days we could stretch them.”

  Jonathan? Here? And with a stack of ration cards. Why? How?

  For some reason, hearing for certain that he was still alive didn’t bring me any hope. It only made me wary. How had he known where to look?

  “When he approached you, what did he say?”

  “He asked me if I knew you. I said yes, and he wanted to know if you were still alive, and where you were. Then he gave me the password and the stack of cards and walked away.”

  “What did you tell him about where I was?”

  “I told him the truth. That I didn’t know. That we were supposed to meet you here and you never showed.”

  Suddenly, I was on high alert. I grabbed my gun from my belt.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  I looked all around the alleyway, then pointed my gun up toward the windows of the buildings on either side.

  Nothing.

  Where had he gone?

  I wondered if he was watching us right then. Maybe he was sending a message to whoever had sent him.

  I forced myself to breathe.

  We would have to wait to hear from him again.

  An hour later, I was wading through the Hudson flood like I’d done twice before. This time, Melanie and her crew were behind me.

  We all made it into the store without incident, and soon we were tromping up the stairway, our wet boots squelching against the concrete. When we got to the hallway, a pile of lumber greeted us, and the door to the room I’d found was open.

  I paused, quieting my footsteps as we approached the entrance. I peeked inside and found a crowd gathered around someone. The old man I had argued with, who had undoubtedly barred the door earlier, knelt on the wood floor.

  My stomach dropped. The someone on the floor was Mila.

  I barged in, Melanie and the rest forgotten in the hall.

  “Get away from her!” I shouted.

  He looked up, then held up his hands, no longer touching her.

  “Riley,” Josh began. But I ignored him.

  The man stood up as I approached, and I grabbed him by the arm and hauled him toward the door.

  “You get out of here,” I snarled. “You can have the rest of the building to yourself, but leave us alone.”

  I pushed him out into the hallway.

  Josh was right behind us.

  “Riley, he’s a doctor.”

  “What?”

  “He’s been here all day helping Mila. Or trying to.”

  I looked at the man, and he lowered his eyes. He didn’t look as sure of himself as he had yesterday.

  “Is this true?” I demanded, pushing him back aggressively. “Have you been messing with her, because if you have, I swear …”

  I pulled out my gun.

  “Riley, no!” Melanie shouted from somewhere back in the room, running toward us. “Put the gun down.”

  She stepped between me and the man so that my gun was pointed directly at her neck.

  “Put it away,” she said.

  “It’s not what you think,” Josh said.

  “Oh, no?” I asked. “Get out of my way, Melanie.”

  “Josh,” the man said, his voice hoarse. “I’ll go.”

  “No,” he said. “We need you. You’re staying.”

  “Says who?” I asked. “You?”

  “Yes, me,” he spat. “You’ve been gone since yesterday. You have no idea what’s been going on since you left, so back off.”

  “Put the gun down,” Melanie said again.

  “Jay?” a voice came from inside the room. Then again, alarmed. “Jay!”

  Josh turned and ran back to where Mila lay on the floor.

  Melanie turned around toward the man.

  Jay.

  He looked around at me, then turned and quickly walked back into the room.

  Melanie stayed in the hallway for a moment.

  “Get it together, will you?” she said.

  She walked back inside and left me standing stupidly in the hall, my gun still in my hands. I sighed loudly and put it back into my belt, then followed her.

  The four others on Melanie’s team had crept into the room when I’d been outside cursing Jay. They all surrounded Mila now.

  Jay was on his knees, pumping on Mila’s chest with his hands.

  My stomach felt like a rock had sunk into it. I knew what he was doing, and I knew what it meant. Josh was leaning back, tears he couldn’t help sliding down his face.

  After a couple of long minutes, Jay stopped his work and sat back.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said to no one in particular. “We were just too late.”

  I backed up against the wall and slid to the floor, tears of my own frustration dropping from my eyes. How was I supposed to do this?

  So many gone. And in just two days.

  But here we were safe, as safe as we could possibly be. And this angry old man had softened not under my direction, but the group’s.

  I put my head into my pruned hands. So much had gone wrong. It seemed that the hundreds of lives lost were the direct result of my stupid mistakes.

  I wondered, though, if anyone else from the Burn saw it that way, if those who’d fallen had cursed me at the end. Or, could it be, they were grateful for the opportunity to try to escape?

  What would I have done?

  And now, Mila. Would her loss rest upon my shoulders as well?

  A pair of feet stopped in front of me, just visible to me with my head down, staring at the floor. I looked up and found Melanie looking down at me, offering her hand to help me up.

  For a moment, I thought there was no way. How could I lead this group when so much had gone so wrong?

  “Come on,” Melanie whispered. “This isn’t over.”

  I searched her eyes for the truth, whatever that was. Was I good? Was I bad? Evil, even?

  Her eyes had no answers.

  I reached up and took her hand.

  She wasn’t giving up on me. Not yet.
>
  Chapter Five

  We all sat in a circle around Mila’s body. Jay had produced a sheet of sorts and covered her. Josh sat with his head in his hands, and I wondered what their relationship had been before now. Friends? Lovers? Maybe just two people thrown together by chance who’d decided to protect one another.

  Mouths munched on nutrition squares, because no matter how sad the situation was, the truth was that everybody was near starving. There were only two cups for water, and we passed them around to wash down the gritty crackers.

  One by one, people filled up, satiated for the first time in many days. Several people lay down beside Mila, their bodies wracked with exhaustion.

  The sun was rising, but I still wasn’t ready to sleep. I’d slept plenty in the past forty-eight hours.

  Instead, I walked around the room, pulling off shoes and boots from those who had just come in out of the water. I lined the wet shoes in row next to the atrium window and passed out several pairs of dry socks. Murmurs of thanks cut through the silence.

  Melanie was at the door talking to Jay, and I went to meet them. Automatically, Jay took a couple steps back when he saw me coming. I held up my hands, showing him that I was unarmed. His eyes remained wary, though, as I joined them.

  “He’s headed out,” Melanie said, trying to head me off.

  “You don’t need to,” I said. “I’m sorry about before.”

  He chuckled.

  “You don’t need to be sorry for trying to protect your people. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I didn’t exactly give you the warmest welcome.”

  “True.”

  “Jay was just telling me about his flat a couple floors up,” Melanie said. “I think we should check it out.”

  “Why?”

  Jay shrugged.

  “I guess I figured you’d be interested. And maybe I could help put some water under the bridge.”

  I paused, unsure. Would he try to hurt us if we followed him up?

  No. Of course not. I had just watched him try to save Mila’s life. If he wished us ill, surely he would’ve simply ignored us. He wouldn’t have helped.

  “Okay,” I agreed. I took a last look at the group sleeping in the room. “You think it’s okay if we leave them?” I asked Melanie.