The Pulse: Book 1 in the Pulse Trilogy

by Shoshanna Evers

  He reached down and rubbed her clit and she nearly screamed from the overstimulation, but then she came again—her third orgasm in minutes.

  He picked up the pace, thrusting harder, faster, until she felt like the world had disappeared and all that mattered was Mason and the pleasure he could bring her.

  “Emily,” he groaned, his cock pulsing inside her as he reached his climax. She held on tightly, clenching her inner muscles around him, milking every last drop from him.

  When he finished, he pulled out and dropped down on the bed beside her. “That was incredible,” he said.

  Emily smiled. “Yeah.”

  He looked around the dark room. “It’s nice here—too bad we can’t hole up here for a while.”

  Emily sat up. “We can’t stay in New York. I’m a wanted murderer now—and I don’t know how much longer our luck will last. We’ve got to get out of here, tomorrow.”

  “I can understand why you never wanted to go back to Grand Central again,” he said softly. “When I went in to get you, I was really… shocked. Shocked by what I saw.”

  “That’s nothing. You saw the main terminal. You didn’t even see where they kept the girls—me and Jenna, too. The Tracks.” She shuddered at the memory. “Do you suppose all the camps are like that, out there?”

  Mason frowned, thinking. “I hope not. I’d like to think if there’s a good leader, then things would be better. If I were in charge of a camp under martial law, I’d execute anyone who raped or assaulted someone. Then there wouldn’t be anything like the Tracks.”

  “But those women wouldn’t say they were raped,” Emily argued. “They’re trying to provide for themselves the only way they can, with the only thing of value they have left—their own bodies.”

  “They’re being taken advantage of.”

  “Of course they are,” Emily said. “But do you really think it’s better somewhere else?”

  “Yes,” he said finally. “And we’ll find a good place. Even if we find some empty land, we can live like pioneers. Eat something more than rats.”

  At the mention of food, Emily’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten in a long while.

  “We can find the kitchen,” he said, apparently hearing her stomach growling. “This place must have a restaurant or bar in it somewhere. A hotel like this would have had room service, before the Pulse, anyway.”

  “Okay,” Emily said, grabbing her robe off the floor. “I’ll follow you.”

  Mason pulled his robe on as well and they left the room, walking down the hallway in silence to the stairwell.

  “If it’s better out there,” Emily said slowly, her voice echoing in the empty corridor, “it almost makes it that much worse, the way things are at Grand Central.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I feel bad, leaving all those girls there on the Tracks. What about Jenna? I was so glad to see her, even though I was terrified when they brought me back to the terminal. I miss her. And she’s one of the few who’s doing okay for herself there.”

  “When we get out of the city, if we find another camp that seems to be in good order, we could inform the person in charge about the situation at Grand Central and see if they could send in troops to help.” He opened the door to the pitch-black stairwell and she stepped in, her footsteps sounding loud on the hard floor, cold under her bare feet.

  “Let’s walk down to the first floor,” she suggested. They took the steps slowly, feeling their way to each landing.

  They found a restaurant with impossibly high ceilings. Mason pulled a box of matches out of the pocket on his robe and lit one.

  “Where’d you get the matches?” Emily whispered, even though they were alone.

  “I grabbed them from my pack in case we need them,” he replied in a normal tone. The light illuminated the huge room for a moment, and Mason grabbed a narrow vase and cloth napkin off a table. The match went out and the room plunged into darkness once more.

  Emily heard the sound of another match being struck, and then Mason held a torch of sorts—he had stuffed the napkin into the vase and lit the end on fire.

  “Nice,” she said, smiling at his ingenuity.

  “Let’s find us something to eat.” He led the way, the flames throwing eerie shadows along the walls. She felt the gun in her robe pocket hitting her thigh with each step, and it gave her comfort.

  Just knowing she had it, just in case.

  The kitchen was in the back. Mason ignored the large freezer, since anything in there would have spoiled long ago. The cupboards, like in the hospital, were bare. People had already scavenged anything worth eating.

  “I found something,” he said, looking at the ground.

  “Do I even want to know?”

  “It’s a torn bag of rice.” He knelt down, running his hands through the grains. “With extra protein included.”

  What?

  “Maggots,” he said, as if she had spoken aloud. “If we boil them they’ll taste fine with the rice, and it really will be good protein.”

  Emily sighed. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, if that’s okay by you.”

  Mason laughed and began scooping up the rice.

  * * *

  They ate in the restaurant, sitting on a long curvy padded bench. Emily had found some nice bowls, and silverware even.

  Her rice tasted delicious, especially since she’d been so hungry. She pretended the boiled maggots were bits of tofu, and ate every last one.

  “It’s like we’re on a date,” she joked.

  “If it weren’t for the Pulse, you never would have looked twice at me,” Mason said.

  “Well, you were in prison.”

  “Even if I weren’t in prison. No way a girl like you would want anything to do with a guy like me. But now everything’s different, huh?”

  “Well,” she said, “different skills are useful now. A man who was rich and powerful before the Pulse isn’t going to be as well off as someone who knows how to shoot, how to hunt, how to fight. Someone who’s used to staying in hotels like this one isn’t going to do as well as someone who knows how to camp out.”

  “That’s true, but it’s not what I’m saying.” Mason seemed upset almost.

  “What does it matter?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t.”

  “You think I’m using you—for protection, is that it?” Emily chewed her rice slowly, giving herself time to think. Maybe it was true, that she was using him. But she also desired him like she’d never desired anyone before. That had to count for something, right?

  “I know you are,” he said. He sounded like he stated a fact.

  “Maybe you’re using me for sex.” She closed her mouth. That may have been going too far.

  Mason looked at her. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I’m using you for your skills as a nurse? You saved my life. I like having someone on my side who can save lives. And end them when necessary.”

  Emily felt her heart race at the casual mention of how she’d offed Andrews.

  “If it weren’t for me, you’d still have your apartment,” she reminded him. “And you’d have twice as much food for yourself.”

  At that, he looked pointedly at her bowl, piled high with rice that he had found and cooked. “Damn right I would,” he said. “If you think I’m using you for sex as well as your lifesaving skills, then maybe I am. Doesn’t bother me a bit. So what if you’re using me, and I’m using you. It makes us even.”

  EMILY’S cheeks burned as she looked at the tablecloth in the hotel restaurant. She should have known this conversation was coming.

  “I may as well be one of the whores on the Tracks, then,” she whispered. “Giving you my body in exchange for your protection and food.”

  “I suppose so.” But he didn’t look like he thought that was the case.

  “But I can’t go back to Grand Central. And—Mason, I can’t leave those girls there. I have to tell them the truth.”

  “What
truth?”

  “About…” Emily paused.

  She’d never actually told Mason about the radio. About American Victory Radio and the man on the air, talking about communities being set up all over the country. About rebuilding.

  She’d thought if he knew then he’d be in even more danger, but now they were in it together, for better or worse. He was sticking with her, even if only to have a willing woman to share his bed. And a nurse to fix him up.

  “I have to tell you something, I think,” she said carefully.

  “Okay.” He put his fork down.

  “You know how the army went out of their way to find me. To track me down, and then to track you down. They were going to kill me.”

  “It does seem strange. It’s a lot of effort to find one girl, even if you did steal a gun.”

  “Who said anything about stealing a gun?” she asked, confused. “I mean, I did steal a gun, but after the fact.”

  “You said you took something important that the army would want back. I assumed it was something like a gun. Or ammo. Or both.”

  “You won’t believe me even if I tell you what I stole. I wish I still had it so I could show you—but they took it back.”

  “Took what back?”

  “The radio.”

  Mason tilted his head as if he wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly. “Who cares about a radio? None of them work anymore, not since the Pulse.”

  “This one worked. The radio had been kept in a… one of those things you told me about. A Faraday cage, I think you said.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. A radio that works… When you say it worked, do you mean you could turn it on and get static, or an alarm or something?”

  “Well, yes, that, but also—there was a radio station, broadcasting information. American Victory Radio.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Mason stood up, the last remnants of his rice forgotten.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was a good idea. But now—since you’re coming with me, you should know there’s bound to be something out there for us to get to. America is rebuilding.”

  “I’ll be caught again. Put back in prison. Or executed straight off.”

  “We can both start fresh,” she said excitedly. “Why not? We have no papers, and there’s no electronic trail. We start fresh with new names, new identities, and new lives. Instead of being a pair of murderers on the run, we could be a nice married couple, for example.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

  Emily blushed. “I didn’t mean for real. I meant—as a cover. Forget it. Forget I said anything. It doesn’t matter. We can be new people either way, we don’t have to be new people… together.”

  “I guess so. But the people here, in New York—they know who we are. They definitely know who you are. I’m not sure how you’ll be able to hide in plain sight. You killed a soldier in a FEMA camp and escaped.”

  “I know that,” she snapped. “Forget it. I’ll get out of the city and find myself some land somewhere like you said. An abandoned cabin or something. I have a gun now, I can figure out how to hunt. I’ll be fine.”

  Mason stared at her in amusement. “Oh, so I’m free to go now, am I?”

  “Maybe—maybe you could stick around with me until I find that cabin. And then you could go on your merry way and not worry about trying to take care of me.”

  “What’s in it for me?” he asked.

  She glared at him, but he smiled.

  “Mason,” she whispered. “I can’t leave Jenna in that camp. All those girls. I can’t leave them like that.”

  “What are you talking about? There’s nothing else to do.”

  “They could come with us. There’s safety in numbers. A huge group of us walking together, we’d be safer from bandits and whatever else is out there.”

  “So now instead of protecting and feeding one woman, I’ll have to find food and shelter for a dozen—two dozen? Maybe more.“

  “I know it sounds crazy, but those women on the Tracks—they don’t even know they have other options. If they knew there was something else out there, that they could leave the camp and find another, better one where they wouldn’t be forced to prostitute themselves just to stay alive—”

  “No, we can’t take care of all those people,” Mason said. “Besides, let’s say we’re on the road, the two of us, and we find a great camp where we’d feel safe staying. They might take in two refugees—but not a whole group. That’s more mouths to feed.”

  Emily sighed. He was right. Rationally, she could see that. But how could she enjoy her own freedom when Jenna was still stuck there? Emily should have told her in that brief moment she’d seen Jenna when the soldiers brought Emily back to Grand Central, but she’d been so terrified.

  “I want to tell them all. Tell them about the radio. They don’t even know that the army has been lying to us all—saying we’re all alone, that there’s no communication, that we’re the only survivors anyone’s heard about who haven’t resorted to cannibalism and chaos. Crazy stuff—but people believe it. I believed it.”

  Mason shook his head emphatically. “Well, there’s no way to tell them, so no use in thinking about it.”

  “There has to be a way. Even if I could just get a message to Jenna.”

  “They’re all going to be looking for you. And since I left with you, they’re probably looking for me as well. It’s not like I can waltz in there, pretending to be a soldier, find Jenna, and tell her there’s a secret radio with a secret radio station that no one but you has ever actually seen—”

  “What does that mean?” Emily stood up, adrenaline rushing through her as her anger level rose. “Are you insinuating that the radio isn’t real? They were going to kill me, Mason. You know that. They wouldn’t have bothered if it wasn’t real.”

  “I believe you, Emily, but will the people at the camp believe it if they don’t see it for themselves? I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just not going to work.”

  “Actually,” she said, “I think your plan would work. Only one guard saw you. So you go in through a different entrance, with a different guard. Maybe wear a hat or something. You could find Jenna and tell her, and she can tell everyone else.”

  “You’re asking a lot of me, Emily,” he said softly. “You’re asking me to risk my life.”

  “Think of all those people. All those girls on the Tracks. Think of Jenna. Please, please, before we leave tomorrow—we have to tell them all the truth.”

  Mason sighed. “Let me sleep on it. It’s late. Tomorrow morning we may wake up and be ready to get out of town.”

  Emily grinned and threw her arms around him in delight. “Thank you!”

  “Don’t thank me, I just said I’ll sleep on it.”

  “I know.” But she couldn’t help but to keep smiling. The secret she carried with her for what felt like so long would finally be shared.

  Knowledge was power—which was why the army didn’t want to share news of the outside world with the people under their martial law.

  Now, the people would find out. And they would revolt.

  * * *

  Mason woke up to the sunlight pouring in through the windows of the abandoned hotel. The sheets tangled around him. Rolling over, he ran his hand over the spot where Emily had been when they finally fell asleep, hours before.

  Where was she?

  “Emily?” he called, hoping to hear an answer from the bathroom. Nothing.

  He stood and stretched, naked. Hopefully their clothes would be dry from last night.

  In the bathroom, Mason found his army shirt and cargo pants, dry, a little wrinkled from having been wrung out, but otherwise fine. They even smelled like the hotel shampoo Emily washed them with.

  He dressed quickly, slipping his pistol into his waistband and pulling the rifle over his chest. The rifle had spent the night on the bedside table in case they got unwanted visi
tors.

  No one had found them—maybe no one had even been looking. Given the bloody body they had left in Colonel Lanche’s quarters, Mason doubted that was the case.

  Could he really risk his life by going back to Grand Central Terminal to talk to Jenna? Emily loved Jenna like a sister, and he knew she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if Jenna never learned the truth.

  What if Jenna decided she wanted to join him and Emily? He wasn’t equipped to take care of so many people.

  But Emily was right—the people needed to know there were options—that they could leave the camp, leave the city, and find something better for themselves and their families.

  If his sister Stephanie had been living in the camp, prostituting herself on the Tracks to survive, he’d want her to know the army hadn’t been truthful. That she didn’t have to be used like that.

  Fuck.

  The thought of Stephanie, and the fact that those women on the Tracks were undoubtedly someone’s sisters or daughters or mothers, made him realize he was going to do it. He would break back into the camp and find Jenna, tell her everything—and let her decide what to do after that.

  If Jenna wanted to grab a megaphone and shout it from the rooftops, that was up to her. If she wanted to escape with someone on her own, also up to her. But he couldn’t have her coming with them.

  He prayed she wouldn’t ask—because while Emily didn’t understand how hard it would be for just the two of them to survive, he knew allowing a third person to tag along could literally be the death of them all.

  The door opened, and Mason jumped up, leveling the rifle at the doorway.

  “Don’t shoot, it’s me,” Emily said with her hands up as she entered the room.

  “Jesus, Em, you scared me.” He lowered the rifle. “Your shirt looks all clean.”

  “Thanks. I’d forgotten how nice it is to not stink to high heaven. Then again, it probably saved me when…” She trailed off, not completing her thought.

  She didn’t have to—Mason knew what she was getting at. This was why he had to go back to Grand Central, to save those girls. If only he could kick some soldier ass too while he was there.