The soldiers had kept Taryn locked up somewhere at Grand Central, awaiting sentencing.Colonel Lanche apparently didn’t like to execute people on Sundays.“So you’re the girl who killed my soldier,” he spat, glowering at Taryn.Taryn glared back, staring defiantly. She’d had two long nights of waiting. Jenna imagined it would have been kinder of the army to kill her straight off and get it over with. She choked back a sob.Lanche turned to the man holding Taryn. “Tell us what happened.”“We heard a shot, and came into a subway car to see Private Eric Andrews shot to death on top of a whore.” The soldier found Jenna in the crowd and pointed to her. “That whore. And this whore here,” he said, pushing Taryn forward, “held the smoking gun.”Lanche shook his head. He looked into the crowd that had gathered. “This is my camp,” he screamed. “Do you really think you can get away with murder?” A vein bulged in his forehead.The man was losing it, Jenna realized. Losing his hold on the citizens of the FEMA camp and losing the respect of the people who had once deemed him a savior.“Were there any witnesses?”
