Until I Die

Chapter 1 Casualty Value

Casualty Value

…we shall pay any price, bear any burden… to assure the survival and the success of liberty.

— JOHN F. KENNEDY, INAUGURAL ADDRESS

It shouldn’t have ended like this.

But in some respects, was there any other way for it to end?

As I latched Theo’s office door behind me, curiosity sparked at the tableau I faced, at the look on his face, and I just knew.

This was the beginning of my very slow end.

Our Prime Delegate, Nia Williams, sat beside Theo behind the desk.

“Good evening, Sophia,” she said, her dark eyes gleaming with some hidden emotion.

Something like interest or maybe even intrigue.

I hadn’t laid eyes on her in months. As the leader of the Defiance, she traveled frequently.

Short black hair stylishly trimmed, outfit pristine, she was a queen mingling with us peasants. No one had clothes that clean anymore.

Her full lips split into a welcoming smile as I hesitated near the threshold. I should have known she was inside Theo’s office given the security detail outside the door, should have prepared to be intimidated.

And yet…

My questioning gaze landed on Theo. He motioned me to sit. “An opportunity has arisen.”

Right to it, then.

“Okay…” What sort of opportunity could possibly involve me, a lowly medic with a proven track record for recklessness in the field?

“A Hunter has come forward offering information.” Theo shifted in his seat. “We need a contact to meet with him on a regular basis.”

My pulse stuttered, then pounded as I fell into the chair he indicated. “You want me for that?”

Theo dropped his gaze to the crudely soldered nameplate on his desk.

Gen. Theodore Harrison. His office at our improvised headquarters was cramped, lined with empty glass display cases—a remnant of the museum gallery it had been before the Fracture.

A dusty crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and shed fractured light across every surface, including the shiny dark skin of his bald head.

Unlike Theo, Williams held my gaze. “The man had explicit criteria. Not many people fit the description.”

A hysterical laugh burst from my mouth. Inappropriate, yes, but nothing else would suffice. When it subsided, I managed to say, “What exactly did he ask for?”

Theo rapped twice on his beat-up oak desk, still not looking at me. “He wants someone discreet. Someone who won’t be noticed when they disappear at odd times. Someone I trust implicitly.”

I pursed my lips. The trust part significantly narrowed the pool of applicants. Theo did not trust easily.

“And he only wants a female,” Williams added.

Ah. The catch. There had to be one, yet the breath whooshed out of me, anyway. “Did he say why?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

Why else would a Hunter want a woman? They weren’t exactly known for their subtlety.

The expression on Williams’s face could only be described as pitying, and I hated her for it, but I wanted her to admit what they were asking of me.

Out loud.

Deep in my stomach, something began to ice over. Began to ache.

“Come on, Miss Reeves,” she said. “Isn’t it obvious? He’s offering information, and he asked for a woman in exchange.”

Theo finally met my eyes. Studying the familiar lines of his square face, I tried to peer behind his expressionless mask. He merely shrugged. “He said he wants a contact, but given how the NAO…feels about women, we assume there will be certain expectations—”

The ache in my abdomen turned to lead at the unspoken words ringing through the silence.

He wants a plaything.

The Hunters—or the National Security Force, as they called themselves—served as specialized armed forces for the New American Order, answering to Richard Haynes, the Commander of the Unified States of America, who had little love for opposition.

Dissenters were exterminated. All hail the Commander.

The NAO detested many things—equality and foreigners among them—but their stance on gender was the crown jewel of their platform.

It started as an ode to family values, an homage to tradition, but as years passed, the rhetoric changed.

Loyalists began to view wives as property.

Women became objects to use. The rise of the independent woman was the beginning of our downfall, they said.

Our rights were stripped away one by one, and women were made into servants, mothers, vessels for pleasure, property for trade.

If I were the currency for this Hunter’s information, I’d be at his mercy, expected to be compliant. Enthusiastic.

I wanted to ask why.

Why would they ask this of me? Why was it even an option?

But I knew the answer to these questions, too.

While the NAO luxuriated in the resources of the Unified States, the Defiance struggled to find advantages against them.

With a censored media and barely any electricity, news and resources were scarce.

Information on the NAO was worth a great deal, even if they had to blur the lines of morality to get it.

Did they really want me to volunteer my body in exchange for information? What other things had they offered him? What else was he getting for his defection? And why would a Hunter want me when he had entire brothels full of slaves for his pleasure?

And if he really wanted it, could I do it?

Ugh.

Tekqua’s bright, friendly face leapt to my mind, her smile I missed so much.

“Just a quick patrol today. I should be back before lunch.”

My best friend had been gone for two months, and with more intel, maybe we could find her. Maybe I could find her. My body was a small price to pay for that.

Ignoring the bile in my throat, I hardened. “I’ll do it.”

Williams smiled, but Theo’s eyes widened. “Why don’t you sleep on it, Sophia? Give it some thought.”

“I’ll do it,” I said again.

He frowned. “We can still ask—”

Williams laid a hand on his arm. “She said yes.”

Theo stiffened. “But—”

“He’s offering intel we can’t afford to turn down,” Williams said, tone sharpening. “The Defiance is floundering. We don’t get opportunities like this.”

My gaze fell to my hands, and I picked at my cuticles until red welled.

Williams continued, “We’ve got spotty communication and dwindling supplies. You know this, General. We’re at a stalemate, and Miss Reeves has agreed to help.”

Theo expelled a quick breath. “He may be playing games. Messing with our heads.”

And they wanted to whore me out despite that risk. An invisible fist squeezed my insides.

So this was rock bottom.

Theo had chastised me on more than one occasion for throwing myself into dangerous situations without regard to my safety. He used to protect me from that instinct. Now he was letting Williams exploit it.

Had they truly grown so desperate?

I thought of the bodies heaped over each other on the execution block, the bare rations that comprised our meals of late, the dwindling hope in our soldiers’ eyes.

Of course they’d grown this desperate.

The NAO had only to wait us out. Without help, the Defiance would go extinct soon.

“We’ve already talked about this,” Williams said. “I’ll leave you to give her the details. Remember what we discussed.”

Theo nodded, and the Prime Delegate departed, leaving faint traces of citrus-scented air behind her. The door clicked closed.

Theo’s dark eyes met mine. “I advised against this.”

“You advised against it? How hard did you fight for me, Theo?”

His eye twitched, but he said nothing.

Theo had withdrawn me from the front line and forced me into the medic unit months ago, an effort to protect me from the escalating violence. He probably would have sent me to Canada if he thought I’d go, but I wanted to keep close to my people.

Now, few of those people remained to care where I was.

One by one, I’d lost them to the battlefields.

The isolation seemed to have depleted my casualty value, and Theo knew it. Who would care if I died? It made me a perfect candidate for a man in want of a woman who wouldn’t be noticed if she disappeared—likely why Williams requested me.

“Am I allowed to know who this traitor is?”

He clasped his hands, elbows resting on his desk, and braced his forehead on his thumbs.

“Theo, come on. You can’t keep this from me. Do I know who he is?”

After one slow exhale, he said, “It’s Lucas Scott.”

Lucas…Scott?

Not the Lucas Scott.

Lucas Scott, the Blood Colonel. The cutthroat. The man who could erase dozens of human lives in seconds.

No.

My heart clenched, and air stalled in my lungs. Memories flashed of his scalpel…the slaughter. My throat grew dry. “A Blood Colonel? You’re giving me to a Blood Colonel?”

Silence.

“And not just any Blood Colonel. Lucas Scott.”

“I know,” Theo said.

“This is a trap. There’s no way this is real.”

“You don’t know that.” His voice cracked.

Acid churned in my stomach with the knowledge that it didn’t matter.

They’d send me even under threat of murder or rape.

That was the extent of their desperation.

My hands curled into fists, fingernails digging into my palms. “What’s in it for him?

It can’t be about wanting a woman. Why would he turn? ”

“He said they hurt his sister. I’ve tried to verify his story, but I can’t find her.” He hesitated. “He didn’t even ask for immunity when we win. All he asked for was a female contact. Take everything he says with a large grain of salt.”

If he said anything at all. What was to stop him from giving me nothing and taking everything? What safeguards did I have?

None. I had none. And it didn’t matter.

I was worth sacrificing.

Focus on your breaths.

In. Out.

The panic washed over my mind like it always did, in flares and flashes of the horrors that haunted the past three years of my life.