Authors: Masha Leyfer
I left Hopetown for a reason. I don’t want to return to the same methods of brutal survival.
It doesn’t matter,
I think,
It’s okay,
but my mind changes it to
you don’t matter. And it’s not okay.
But at the same time that I am shaking from how insignificant I am, I am shaking from how much power I hold in my hands. I hold the power to take a life, to end someone. And other people hold the power to end me. That terrifies me. I don’t feel in control of my life or my power. The arbitrariness of life freezes my fingers in their place. I could die simply because I happened to be in somebody’s line of fire. I could kill someone simply because they happened to be in mine. How much do we really mean if all that dictates our life is coincidence?
Before I can think of an answer to the question, Mike comes back out from the road. He is alone.
“What happened to our friend there?” Emily asks.
“He was harmless.” Mike says tensely.
“Are you serious, Mike? He tried to shoot you down.”
“It’s long to explain. He made a mistake. He’s against the CGB too.”
“Yeah? How do you know he wasn’t lying?”
“He proved it well enough. He thought we were agents of the CGB. He was waiting for us
—
them, I mean.”
“And you just let him go?”
“I wasn’t going to keep an innocent person.”
“Yeah? Innocent?” Emily raise her eyebrows and I can tell that she is suspicious, just like the rest of us. Mike can be hard to read, but this time, there is no doubt. I can see the lie burning in his chest. I wonder if everyone else can see it too.
“Yeah,” Mike says, ending the discussion. “Now let’s get back home before someone else tries to kill us.”
CHAPTER 18
We ride back in silence. Nathan volunteers to drive this time and I concede. My gun feels heavy at my hip. I wrap my arms around Nathan’s waist, happy to be squeezing something that’s alive instead of an instrument of death.
We don’t stop on the way back, riding straight to camp. The sun sets about an hour before we make it back. We navigate by the light of the moon again. The entire ride, I feel uneasy and shaken. I breathe out a sigh of relief when we make it back to camp and the familiar warm embrace of the fire. The remaining few members of the Rebellion greets us with enthusiasm, but I can tell that they can sense our uneasiness. Before anyone can ask about it, however, Big Sal steps out.
“Everybody get your cups before tea gets cold.”
What a wonderful woman.
I think she can sense the pulse and breath of the Rebellion better than any of us and she can tell that nobody would benefit from discussion of the raid. So, instead, we all pull out our cups
—
those who stayed at camp from their belts and bags, those who went on the raid from their tents
—
and Big Sal distributes tea. I accept my cup and sit next to Nathan.
We take a sip in unison and I let the hot tea dispel the fear in my bones.
“I think you gave me bruises,” Nathan said. “You squeezed me so tightly, I couldn’t breathe half the time.”
“Oh my goodness, sorry!” I say. I touch his shoulder, as if trying to brush off the bruises. “Sorry, I didn’t mean too. Are you all right? Sorry.” He smiles.
“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m exaggerating. I don’t actually have bruises. And I don’t mind, to be honest.”
“Oh. I was nervous,” I explain.
“Me too,” Nathan says, his tone growing darker. “Something doesn’t seem right about this.”
“Have you ever been mistaken like that before?” I ask quietly.
“No, but, I don’t know how else it could have been explained. Because Smaller Sally was right. He could have killed us but he didn’t. He must have realized he was wrong and then...I don’t know. Why? Do you think Mike is lying?”
“No,” I lie. “Have you ever been able to tell when Mike isn’t telling the truth?”
“No,” Nathan admits. “Never have been.”
“Oh.”
Then Nathan can’t see what I can. Mike was lying. I’m sure of it. And I have to find out why.
We sip the tea in silence for several more minutes. I look into the darkness inside my cup and get the empty feeling in my stomach again that I always get thinking about death.
“Nathan, do we even have a plan? I mean, we were so unprepared. We just hoped that everything would work out. Is that how it’s always going to be? Do we even know what comes after this?”
“There is a plan for what comes after,” Nathan says. “Have you ever heard of the Fallen Angels?”
“No.”
“They’re a very powerful, very dangerous, and very secretive….I don’t want to say organization, because they’re not concrete like some of the other ones are, they’re more of a network. They have roots everywhere and they know everything. They control most of the land in the country that isn’t occupied by the CGB, and they have influence even in CGB towns. Almost a decade ago, when the Rebellion was becoming an actual group and the Fallen Angels were already the most powerful organization in the country, my mother made a deal with the Archangel Julius, who was their leader at the time. The Fallen Angels want the CGB gone, just like we do. The deal was that, in return for their protection, we would fight the CGB in a three step plan called the Tertiad. Part one is general sabotage, which is what we’re doing now. Part two is attacking the base. Part three is overthrowing the leadership of the individual towns. After that, the Fallen Angels planned to establish a new government of their own. Supposedly, we stay under their protection as long as we don’t rebel against them. They, on their part, have some pretty strict rules imposed on them about what kind of government they can run. That deal is the reason that nobody has ever bothered us.”
“So we’re just puppets?” I ask in shock. “Everything we do is controlled by the Fallen Angels?”
“No, it’s not like that. The three part plan was always our plan. The only real condition that wasn’t in our original plan is that we don’t rebel against them.”
“But-”
“You can’t have war without alliances, Molly,” Nathan says.
“I suppose not,” I grumble.
So I guess there is a plan.
Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel any better.
If us being shot at is part of a plan, what comes next?
“We could have died today,” I whisper. “Both of us. All of us. Do you realize that?”
“Don’t think about that,” Nathan placates me. “Yes, we could have died, but we didn’t. That’s what’s important.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that....”
“It’s okay Molly,” he says, squeezing my hand. I’ll be honest with you, I’m scared too. I’m still scared. But think of it this way: if we can survive this, we can survive anything.”
__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __
The next day, training resumes. Everyone tries to pretend that yesterday’s raid went fine. And for all intents and purposes, it did. We got the cameras in, nobody got hurt. But everybody is still a little shaken. More than a little shaken. Tension hangs in the air like chalk dust. Mike and I are both distracted during combat training. We pause for a break and I find that I can’t keep silent any longer.
“You lied, didn’t you?” I hiss quietly.
“What?” Mike says and the odd inflection in his voice tells me that I’m right.
“Yes, you did. You made that story up. The story about the man. He wasn’t waiting for the CGB, he was waiting for
us.
He was waiting for
you
.”
“That’s not important…”
“No? He shot at us and risked capture to get our attention. I’d say this is pretty important.” Mike crosses his arms. “I can tell that you’re lying, Mike. Maybe you can hide it from Nathan, but you can’t from me.
Mike doesn’t respond for a very long time. He puts his fingers through his belt buckles and bites the corner of his lip. Finally, he says quietly, “So what?”
“So what?”
“So, what difference does it make if there really is more to know?”
“It was important enough for you to lie about it. It’s important enough for me to know.”
“It’s important enough for me to keep it a secret,” Mike shoots back.
“This doesn’t just affect you, Mike!” I shout. “Do you realize that? That man wasn’t just shooting at you! He was shooting at all of us. We are in your line of fire, Mike. We are the casualties of you and your secrets. Is that how you want it to be?”
“Obviously not,” Mike spits out quietly. “Why do you think I keep things secret?”
His voice is filled with simmering rage. This is the first time I’ve seen him angry, and any other time, it would have terrified me, but I am filled with enough blind anger of my own to match every spark that comes out of Mike’s eyes.
“You think you’re helping us,” I say, dropping to voice to match Mike’s, “but you’re just setting traps that the rest of us can’t see. Sooner or later, somebody’s going to fall in and that will be on you.”
After that, I keep silent and just look at Mike. I can tell that there are words fighting to get off of his tongue and if I have to battle them out of him, I will. I’ve spent too much of my life lying and being told lies and slowly, gradually, wasting my life away. I came here to change that. I will not let my only chance at a worthy life go down the drain because Mike has secrets to keep.
“Molly-” Mike says at last, but I cut him off before he can finish.
“No. Don’t ask me for forgiveness, don’t try to explain things to me. Unless you’re planning to tell me the truth, I’m leaving. Because you’re wasting my time.”
“If I tell you everything, you’re bearing the responsibility of it with me.”
“I know.”
“And that’s make it harder for both of us.”
“You’re wrong.”
Mike looks like he almost believes me.
“For Christ’s sake,” he says, and I know that I have won. “Have you ever heard of the Sternmenschen?”
“No.”
“Sternmenschen. The star people. That’s what it means in German. They’re a group. More of a cult. They promised their recruits a lot. ‘Murderers, killers, criminals’ wasn’t an accusation, it was a...a reference to them.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And what aren’t you telling me, Mike? I asked for the truth, not some school-kid recitation of facts!”
“If you want to know so much, why don’t you figure it out yourself?”
That man was looking for him.
They promised their recruits a lot.
I look Mike in the eyes and see guilt swirling around in his irises. It all clicks.
“You joined them, didn’t you?” I say softly. Mike doesn’t answer but bites down on his lip so hard it starts bleeding.
“Drawing blood doesn’t make the truth any better,” I say. Mike rubs his wrists.
“Neither does saying it out loud.”
“No, you’re right. So why did you bring this up? What does some guy shooting at us have to do with some cult you joined once?”
“They want me to come back. They need me for...something.”
Mike sits down and leans against a board. I sit down against another board and soften a little. I’ve been shouting at him for several minutes now and I can see how much it’s drained him. He has never shown this much vulnerability. Even sitting down when someone else is standing is highly out of character for him.
“I’m right here, Mike,” I say gently.
“I know,” he says, and then, “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to go back,”
“No, you don't understand,” he says heavily. “I swore an oath. It..It was a stupid oath, but it’s easier now to just respond to the call."
"So you intend to honor your promise?"
"I have no choice."
"You always have a choice."
"Well. That's what we like to think, isn't it? But we have to take the consequences as well, and that makes our choices seem a lot more limited, doesn't it?"
"I guess you're right," I say.
After that, neither of us say anything for a long time. Mike presses himself harder against the practice board and I can tell by the way he breathes that he is more nervous than he has been in a long time.