"You. What kind of monster were you before? What are you atoning for?"

Cynthia missed Adrian's flinch, horrified to hear those private words spoken, the ones she wanted known the least, but the trooper noticed it, felt the change in the man at his side.

Neil scowled darkly, automatically protecting his boss. "None of that old shit matters anymore, in case you haven't noticed. Only our survival does. You should wake up before you piss off the wrong person and find yourself on the outs. See ya later, Boss."

Adrian watched Cynthia step hurriedly back as the angry trooper moved past and there was a tense silence where he let her squirm for a long moment.

"You have questions?" he asked finally.

Glad he was willing to pretend she hadn't crossed the line when they both knew she had, Cynthia took a small step inside the dusty office. "Yes. I'd like to volunteer to teach a class when you get them going."

Adrian's cool eyes never left hers, and she could feel his pull, her woman's body softening under his gaze. "Maybe a teacher's aide or something?"

Adrian opened his notebook and wrote it down, and Cynthia held herself in check. She was hard too, an old dirt-digger, but she wasn't immune to his spell any more than Kenn or Neil were. Just like them, she wanted to be close to Adrian, wanted to be useful.

"What class?"

The reporter controlled herself tightly, itching to ask, demand, trick, trap, and badger until he broke, but knew he wouldn't, even if she didn't care about being banished, which she did. He wasn't like the others, wasn't part of Before, as far as she knew, and treating him like he was, wouldn't work. "I'm quick at basic math and I have a Pulitzer Prize for my writing. That should be worth something, right? My contribution to your New America."

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Instead of correcting her wording as he might have done with nearly anyone else, Adrian used the moment to pay back just a little of what she'd given him. "And, what do you get out of it? How are you benefited?" he mimicked her accusing tone perfectly.

She flushed, but didn't drop her eyes. "The chance to teach a journalism class once we get settled somewhere."

"You realize that's a camp vote, because of the material?"

Cynthia's brown eyes were bitter as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket. "Why do you think I came to you? With your support, they'd agree to almost anything."