Shifting Fates by Nadia Simonenko, Aubrey Rose Read Free Book Online Page B

Harkut’s confident glare tells me he ain’t cowed in the slightest. He’d break me in half in a second, given the chance.
    “No, sir.”
    “We’re retaking the Harlem Sector at noon today,” he tells me. “Radiation levels came back low enough that Central Command’s declared it salvageable. Platoon Alpha will be accompanying the engineers and protecting them while they evaluate functional infrastructure, Beta is covering Amsterdam Avenue, and…”
    I nod silently, hanging onto his every word as he points at the enormous map of New York City plastered on the wall of the barracks. The Harlem Sector encompasses the territory between 125th and 175th up along the Harlem River, and, at least according to this map, the area we’re going into around 155th Street is densely packed with civilians.
    “Sir,” I interject as he pauses to take a breath, “may I ask what we’re doing about the civilian population?”
    He shoots me a long, almost disdainful stare, and then he turns back to the troops.
    “Men… this little patch of sunlight is our target today,” he announces. “Harlem Sector—memorize it, because you’re all going in today. We’re taking back the functional infrastructure, salvaging whatever we can, and establishing a permanent presence in the area. Any objections?”
    “No, sir!” shout two-hundred soldiers in unison, their voices so loud in the cramped barracks that my ears ring.
    When the troops finally go silent, I clear my throat and speak up again.
    “Sir… the Harlem Sector is heavily populated,” I repeat. “What are your plans for the displaced civilians?”
    I point at the highlighted rectangle on the map from 155th to 160th street—a tiny yellow island in a sea of red—the one safe haven for civvies in a sector teeming with shifter scum. “If we push them out, they don’t have anywhere to go. There’s no functioning water or sewage for thirty blocks in—”
    “Fuck the civvies!” interjects a grunt in the second row of the Beta platoon. “They ain’t much better than the shifters.”
    I’d swear you can feel the room ice over as the Major and I stare the boy down. Neither one of us is taking kindly to his little outburst, even if our reasons for being angry aren’t the same. The Major prizes discipline and he’s clearly pissed at the breach of decorum, but me… I’m more concerned that we’ve got a psycho who doesn’t care about the people he’s supposed to be protecting.
    “Do you want to do the honors, or do I deal with this one, sir?” I whisper to the Major.
    “I leave it to you, Jones.”
    “Soldier… step forward,” I bark, and the lines part as everyone backs away from the stupid shit until he’s standing alone in the center of a lonely circle. He doesn’t look too sure of himself anymore, and he nervously comes to the front of the room.
    “What’s your name, soldier?”
    “Johnson, sir,” he mumbles.
    “Johnson, huh?” I repeat, practically spitting sarcasm. “It’s a shame you don’t much care for the civvies, because you’re gonna be serving them meals for the next month. You will report to the Times Square kitchen at 1200 hours today, and if you skip a single meal, I’ll let the Major deal with you.”
    “Sir—”
    “Shut the fuck up, Johnson,” I snap, and he goes silent. “Now get your ass back in line.”
    The Major chuckles behind me, and I turn to face him again.
    “To answer your question, Jones… we’re going to be displacing them to the Park Sector North in Central Park by the Beta Platoon. There are limited facilities, yes, but more than enough room for everyone. Any issues, soldier?”
    He stares up at me, and I can see the unspoken challenge gleaming in his eyes. He’s daring me to question his order again—challenging me to stick my neck out for the axe.
    “No sir,” I answer, trying my hardest to keep my voice cold and calm. “I understand, sir.”
    The Major nods, satisfied with my response, and then he turns