Free Outcasts by Alan Janney Page B

years. And even then, they often don’t last long.”
    “What a fascinating and monstrous disease you have,” Katie said, rubbing her forehead in thought. “There has to be a cure.”
    “Katie, tell your boyfriend to quit rubbing my leg.”
    “What?!” I cried. “I’m not!”
    “Are too.”
    “It’s just this tiny bed.”
    Katie sighed. “Do I need to sit between you two?”
    Samantha sniffed. “Only if you’ll rub my leg.”
    “Mine too,” I said.
    “Aaaaaanyway,” Puck groaned. “What’s your plan? What should I tell Carter?”
    “We have two plans.” I held up two fingers that he couldn’t see. “Keep Katie safe. And remove the Chemist.”
    Puck pushed maps of the city to our iPhones and iPad while Samantha and I brain-stormed. Throughout the day we’d text Isaac Anderson and get his input on various details, and to find out what the military’s plans were. Trouble was, the military was fractured. No one was sharing information or collaborating on solutions.
    Samantha and I didn’t have a very elegant plan either. Essentially, the next time Puck confirmed with certainty that the Chemist was downtown, we were going hunting. We’d take supplies and weapons and we wouldn’t come back until we had him. Puck illustrated on maps where the military thought he hid, and where the positive sightings had been. The military’s intelligence was good. They were monitoring the city from every angle and with every known technology. Much was known about the inner workings of the fortress. Except how to storm it and eliminate targets too fast to be shot, without massive civilian casualties.
    “I can get you all the equipment you need,” Anderson yawned over the speaker phone. “The remaining Navy SEALs are currently training with munitions that don’t require high levels of accuracy.”
    That piqued Samantha’s interest. “What kind of munitions?”
    “OC spray.”
    I said, “Huh?”
    Katie answered, “Oleoresin Capsicum.”
    I said, “Huh?”
    “Pepper spray.”
    Samantha tapped the phone against her lips in thought. “OC spray. That’s interesting. I bet they’re training with goggles. Might work.”
    “I thought our lungs filter out the harsh chemicals. Deadens the effects. Chosen wouldn’t feel it.”
    Samantha answered me, “The eyes are more vulnerable. OC spray is primarily an eye irritant. Can swell them completely shut. If the SEALs wear eye protection, and can deliver clouds of OC…it wouldn’t level the playing field, but it might help. At least slow the Chosen down.”
    At noon, Katie got up and stretched her arms over her head. “Your war games grow wearisome. I’m going for a jog.”
    I joined her. Our guard detail, a mixture of Air Force airmen and MPs, snapped to attention when we emerged. A couple airmen eagerly volunteered to show us their usual route. Katie and I set off at an easy pace after them, quickly joined and surrounded by most of our armed guard.
    “Protective group, aren’t they?” Katie observed.
    “They’ve just got good taste.”
    “Samantha will have the remainder of the guards in bed with her by the time we get back.”
    “What??” I nearly stumbled. “But…isn’t she…aren’t she and my dad…”
    Katie grinned, chasing the lead airmen with easy strides. She’d been a runner her whole life. “Yes. They are. But I don’t think it’s exclusive. It’s not like Samantha and your dad can get married or something.”
    “Yeah but….yeah but…”
    “Besides, your father has an on-again-off-again thing with one of his commanding officers. Her name is Annette.”
    “Nope.”
    “Oh Chase. You’re so beautiful and adorable and naive. Your dad is kind of a hunk. How long did you expect him to stay single?”
    “Until forever, obviously. His sole purpose in life is to be my father. He has no needs.”
    She laughed.
    I continued, “So she and my father aren’t…romantic?”
    “Oh they are. But I think they both know this isn’t permanent.