Free The Pulse by Shoshanna Evers Page B

might as well be out of his life.
    He’d never see her again. Just like he’d never see his sister Stephanie again.
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    Emily shouldered her bag and walked out the front door of Roosevelt Hospital, refusing to look back at Mason. If she did it would all be over. She wouldn’t be able to leave.
    Why? Why did he have such a strong effect on her?
    Knowing he wasn’t the cold-blooded murderer she originally thought he was made her feel safer around him.
    Well, he is a killer , she amended. But at least he had honorable intentions. And after life on the Tracks, she could easily understand wanting to kill a rapist.
    She might try it out herself someday, if she had to. And if the army came for her, all bets were off. She’d fight to survive.
    She wouldn’t go quietly, no way in hell.
    Outside, Emily glanced around.
    Stalled cars littered the streets, many vehicles with their gas tanks open, the gasoline long since stolen and used for fuel for older cars and some rebuilt generators, or so Emily had heard.
    She hadn’t seen anything generator-powered at the camp. They must be saving the generators for important stuff. But like what?
    If there was radio, what else had Colonel Lanche hid from them?
    Emily needed to listen to the radio. Her shocked mental state had prevented her from listening to, from even touching the radio before Mason found her. She had to see what was going on in the outside world. But she needed to find a place she could hide out in privacy.
    Looking around, she realized she’d walked over from Tenth to Fifth Avenue, arriving at the Plaza. Tilting her head up, she took in the beautiful hotel. Here would work. Why not?
    It’s not like she needed a reservation.
    Emily stepped into the Plaza. The smell of stale urine floated in the air, and the once magnificent front lobby was in disarray. Some asshole had even sprayed graffiti across the main concierge desk.
    Looking around for the stairs, she stepped carefully over the broken glass on the floor and opened the door to the stairwell. She climbed up to the second floor, pausing on the landing.
    She had to go up higher.
    At the fifth floor, Emily stopped and opened the heavy door out into the carpeted hallway. The very first room door she tried swung open. Of course. The electronic locks and key cards wouldn’t work after the Pulse.
    She looked around the room in awe. It was beautiful—plush, luxurious, even though it had been obviously ransacked. The bedding was missing, and someone had smashed the table to shreds, most likely to use as firewood.
    She shut the door behind her and bolted it. At least the physical bolt still worked. Setting the radio on the carpet, Emily sat cross-legged in front of it and held it reverently in her hands. She cranked the hand-crank, grateful it wasn’t battery operated.
    The radio seemed to come to life in her hands and she nearly dropped it. It had been that long since she’d heard a voice come out of anything other than a person. The signal was very poor, and static-y. She raised the volume, pressing her ear to the radio’s speakers.
    “This is American Victory Radio,” a man’s voice said. “Check in daily for news from around the country as we rebuild, better and stronger than ever.”
    Yeah, right , Emily mused, but she listened anyway.
    “President Powers has declined, amidst much controversy, help from United Nations officials to rebuild,” the voice on the radio continued. “American Victory Radio supports our new president’s decision, as America must not cede control to outside forces .”
    The UN wants to help? Emily thought, listening in surprise. It made sense, she supposed. But once they came in and took over, they might never leave.
    America would be done for.
    “If you are in need of food, shelter, or medical care, there are state-sanctioned shelters in every state across the US,” the voice continued .
    “If you wish to take federal food rations, any food you have on hand will be taken and added