“What is this place?” the man in the boat asked. “You said we were going to get food.”
The man on the beach leaned back and dragged the rowboat farther ashore. “Give it a rest, Hodges. I swear, all you care about is food.”
“I do when I have to row forty-five minutes upstream, and when you told me you knew about a grocery store that hasn’t been looted.” Hodges leaned forward and gripped the gunnels as he made his way to the front of the boat and stepped onto solid ground. “I ain’t had anything sweet to eat in three days. I’m sick of the rice and beans those Wardens give us while they eat like kings. I bet they’ve got a whole stash of gummy bears hidden in that bunker.”
The athletic man rolled his eyes. “You and those damn gummy bears. I wish you’d shut up about them. They’re nothing but high-fructose corn syrup and toxic food coloring.” He turned away and started toward the nearest apartment building. “Wait here with the boat. I’ll be back in an hour.”
Jarrod moved to the edge of the beach and scanned the river for patrols. Once he stole the rowboat, it would only take a few minutes to cross the river into Maryland. And once he was on the other side, the chance of being detected by one of Borya’s soldiers was practically zero.
Hodges cocked his head. “An hour? What do you need an hour for?” When he didn’t receive an answer, he surveyed his surroundings and frowned. “Hold up, Andy. Isn’t this where Lisa lives?”
“You’re so stupid,” the athletic man muttered under his breath. Then, speaking louder, he added, “Yeah, so what?”
Hodges padded through the sand after his friend. “You’re not supposed to go near her. And they’ll put you in jail if you violate your parole.”
Andy spun around. “Who will put me in jail? Your idiot step-dad? In case you haven’t noticed, things are different now. The cops aren’t in charge, the Wardens are.” He pulled his jacket aside to reveal a matte-black pistol. “And since we’re friends with the Wardens, we get to do whatever we want and take whatever we want.” A smile tugged at his lips. “And I want Lisa.”
Jarrod’s gaze shifted away from the boat and landed on the athletic man.
Hodges shook his head. “She’s pretty and all. But she don’t want nothin’ to do with you, Andy.”
The athletic man turned away. “I don’t give a damn what she wants.”
Heat bloomed in Jarrod’s chest; he wanted to chase Andy down, drag him to the water, and drown him. But the whir of an outboard motor gave him pause. Instead of attacking, he retreated into the vegetation and crouched low.
A black, forty-foot Navy patrol boat glided into view. It was manned by six men in digital camouflage uniforms, and the man in front was scanning the shoreline with a pair of wide binoculars.
As Jarrod watched the men, the metamaterial on his fingers stretched into deadly claws. They weren’t men at all. Their movements were too synchronized with one another, their demeanors too rigid. They had received the mind-poison and had become extensions of Borya’s consciousness. Or, as Andy and Hodges had called them, Wardens.
The outboard motor throttled down, and the craft turned toward the beach. As it drew nearer, Andy continued across the open lawn and entered the apartment building while Hodges stared after him and chewed on his fingernails.
One of the Wardens cut the motor, and the boat drifted toward shore. “You there!” the man at the bow called out. “Conscript!”
Hodges tucked his hands under his arms and turned around. “Y—Yes, sir?”
“You’re needed at the Newburg Bridge. Fetch your things and climb aboard.”
Hodges hesitated and glanced back at the apartment building.
Jarrod ground his teeth together. He could hear Andy banging his fist against a door and shouting.
“Lisa! I know you’re in there. Open up.”
Hodges turned back toward the Wardens. “My—” He swallowed. “Andy is inside.”
“There is no time. We must depart.” The Warden held out a hand. “Swim out to me.”
Hodges bit down on a pink fingernail. “I can’t swim.”
Jarrod glanced at the man. It was a lie—Hodges was stalling. And inside the apartment, a woman spoke in a shaky voice. “Okay, Andrew, I’m coming. Don’t break my door down, okay?”
The Warden pointed at the rowboat. “Then use that.”
The latch inside the apartment clicked open and the door creaked on its hinges. There was the sound of a hard slap, and then Andy’s voice. “That’s for getting that restraining order, you ungrateful bitch.”
Jarrod’s body shook with barely-contained rage. He glared at Hodges, who was shifting his weight from one leg to the other.
“You’re right,” the woman said. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” Fabric brushed against carpet—she was dragging herself across the floor, trying to move away from him.
“All right,” Hodges said, gripping the rowboat. “Just give me a minute. This is only my second time using a boat like this.”
Another lie. Jarrod began to rock back and forth.
“Wait.” The Warden’s order cut through the air. “Did you see that?”
Jarrod froze. A Warden was staring right at him. He held the binoculars against his eyes and his lips tightened into a thin line.
Inside the apartment, Andy stomped toward Lisa. “You’re not sorry. Not yet.” Hair rustled through grasping fingers, and Lisa let out a whimper. On the boat, the Warden with the binoculars was taking shallow breaths, and his heart rate had doubled.
Jarrod’s mind raced through a thousand different courses of action, and none of them ended well. If he moved, he would be seen, and every moment Hodges stalled was another moment of torture for Lisa.
“Let go! You’re hurting me!”
Hodges put a foot into the boat and tested his weight. Slowly, he settled into the middle seat and began to pick up the oars.
The Warden with the binoculars shook as he peered through the lenses. He licked his lips and said. “Are any of the thermal optics still functional?”
“Where are they?” a second Warden asked.
“Beneath the seat. In the cabin,” a third responded.
A scratching sound, and Andy grunting in pain. Lisa was fighting back, which was good, but Jarrod knew she was running out of time.
Hodges dipped the oars into the water and leaned back, but the boat didn’t budge. “Oops. Didn’t shove off far enough, I guess.”
One of the Wardens emerged from the cabin with three sets of thermal optics. He held two in the crook of his elbow while he twisted a knob on the third, held it to his eye, and aimed it at Jarrod.
A ripple traveled through Jarrod’s coiled muscles as he prepared to move.
Two torturously long seconds passed before the Warden said, “No,” and handed off the thermal optic.
Andy’s shout echoed through the apartment. “No one has ever wanted you the way I do, Lisa. And you spat in my face. You broke my heart!”
“Please. Let me go and we can talk about this.” Fabric on carpet again. This time, he was dragging her.
Another outboard motor buzzed in the distance—a craft moving at full-throttle. Four of the Wardens turned to look while the fifth still stared into the binoculars and the sixth twisted the knob on another set of thermal optics.