Authors: Masha Leyfer
“But where does that get you?”
“The end of the road.”
“You think that the end of the road is the end of all hardships, but in truth, once the road ends, the forest begins, and you have to fight your way through instead of just walking.”
“If that’s true, then why do we still walk the road?”
He considers it for a moment.
“It’s for the promise of something on the other side of the forest.”
“So believe in that, Mike, and eventually, you’ll reach it.”
Mike smiles and shakes his head.
“When did you develop so much philosophy? You weren’t always like this.”
“Well I’ve been here for some time now. You’ve rubbed off on me.”
Mike chuckles.
“How long has it been since you’ve come to the Rebellion?”
“Oh my goodness, I don’t remember. It seems like forever. Is it...I think it’s six months now.”
“Only six months? You’re right. It does seem like an eternity.”
“There are different types of eternities,” I say, repeating what I said to Nathan once, sitting under the stars.
“Then let’s make this a good one.”
__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __
Nathan and I don’t talk during dinner, but after it is over, I catch his hand.
“Hey, um, Nathan, you wanna go up to the Field of the Fallen and shoot something, maybe?..”
I don’t think I’ve ever sounded more awkward, but to my relief, he doesn’t turn me down, but smiles warmly.
“Sure.”
We walk up to the Field of the Fallen, crossbows in hand.
“Listen, Nathan, I’m sorry about yesterday, I…”
“Don’t mention it,” he says. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“I just really want you to be happy.”
“And I want you to be happy, Molly. But if both of us won’t be happy if we’re together, then there’s no point to be together. I’d rather we be happy as friends.”
“You’re so incredible, Nathan, honestly, you can handle things like nobody else, and-”
“Don’t flatter me, Molly.”
“It’s not flattery, it’s the truth.”
“Well that’s a very fine line, isn’t it? Between a truth and a lie.”
“Um...No? A truth and a lie are opposites, aren’t they?”
“I don’t think so. A lie is just a truth that got out of hand. If you run away and kill somebody, it’s still you, isn’t it? It just isn’t a you that we would recognize.”
“I suppose.”
“Yeah. You shoot first.” I lift my crossbow and aim at Bob’s left eye. Nathan shoots and hits the space were the right eye would have been. I shoot his heart. Nathan shoots the brain. I shoot the right knee. Nathan shoots the left knee. We continue our shots until Bob stands as a symmetrical monument to death. We pull out all the bolts and shoot Jan. I don’t sense any added tension between us, just the silent and mutual solidarity that comes from watching the sun set and hearing the thunk of your bolts in the wood. Something about this inconsequential togetherness makes me feel very at home. Nathan has always made me feel very at home. I hope that this feeling never goes away.
But perhaps I’m just imagining a better situation. Perhaps Nathan is secretly suffering just by being close to me. Perhaps I just can’t tell, and every moment I spend with him hurts him. Why do I always seem to take, especially from the people who give? Why do I always hurt the people who heal? What kind of life lies ahead of me if the only energy I am capable of outputting is negative?
I never meant to hurt. I never wanted to hurt. But it seems that no matter what I do, I can’t escape my fate.
__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __
The next day, Mike calls us all together. I notice that he seems excited, which is an emotion that I wouldn’t usually attribute to Mike. It infects the rest of us. We stand in anticipation, excited about who knows what.
“Gang, listen up, I have exciting news.” We all crowd together, eager to hear what he has to say. “Big Sal, would you like to tell them about it?”
“Sure. Well, guys, I’m happy to announce that yesterday evening, those cameras you placed finally payed off. There was a meeting in that building you raided last month and one of the CGB members let slip the base’s location. I confirmed it. The electric footprint matches up.” She smiles triumphantly. “I am happy to announce that we finally located the base of the Continental Governing Body.”
Everybody surges forward in excitement. This is it. This is what we’ve been waiting for, what we’ve been fighting for. The main CGB base has finally been found. Destroying it would begin the end of the CGB.
Destroying it would mean victory.
The air pulsates with excitement as all of us realize exactly how close we are to the end of this war
“That’s right,” Big Sal smiles again. “And it’s not even too outrageously far away. It’s approximately ten hours South, in the old capital. Mike, you continue.”
“As you might have guessed, we’re going on another raid. All of us will be going except for Big Sal, who will be monitoring our progress from here. We’re going to destroy their base, get rid of their data, and cut off their communication. Without the main base, the CGB has no centralized power. Several weeks after we raid, the senates should start losing their power. We just need to stir up the people, shake their faith in the power of the CGB. And then, we finish it. And it all begins now. It begins with this raid. This is the raid that we’ve been talking about since the beginning of the Rebellion, the raid that will finally end the CGB.”
CHAPTER 28
The next day, Mike approaches me after breakfast.
“You and I going on a raid next Tuesday.”
“Oh. Okay. Sure.”
“There’s some stuff we need to discuss.”
“Oh, um, okay.”
“It’s nothing bad,” he reassures me. “Just some things that are discussion worthy.”
“Okay.”
So many things that are worth discussing have happened in the last several days that I’m not sure which event he is referring to.
“We’re going to cut a powerline. Nothing too exciting. I just think that both us need to leave the camp for a while.”
“I agree.”
“Good. Remember: next Tuesday.”
He leaves. Even though I don’t have formal training anymore, by habit, I go up to the Field of the Fallen anyway. Instead of shooting my crossbow as I usually do, I throw knives. This is much harder than shooting, but Emily taught me anyway.
Even if you never need it, you should know it. Remember: always be prepared. And besides, it looks pretty. Why
wouldn’t
you want to learn it?
I don’t have the same accuracy or the same power behind the throw, but the thunk of metal against wood is just as satisfying. I like watching the way the knife spins through the air, especially when it doesn’t waver and carves a perfectly even path through the atmosphere. I take out the last knife and begin to throw, but I am interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.
“Not bad,” I spin around, my hand gripping the hilt of the knife tighter, and see the Kerman father standing on the edge of the field.
“Oh, Mr. Kerman. Good morning,” I say with a bob of my head, uncomfortably aware of any flaws he could notice. My grip on the knife doesn’t loosen.
“Good morning.” We stand in awkward silence until he speaks again. “So you’re Molly, are you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Right, right. My son told me about you.”
“Oh.” I wonder which son he is referring to and what exactly he was told.
“And you’re how old now?”
“Seventeen, sir.”
“Seventeen? Hmm. Pretty young.” He stares at me until I respond.
“I, um, I suppose so, sir.”
“Yes. Seventeen is an interesting age to be. Old enough to make decisions and understand their consequences, but young enough to still have choices. Tell me, then: what are you planning to do with your life?”
“Do with my life, sir?”
“Yes. What is your plan for the future?”
“Oh. Well, I supposed I would be doing this for the rest of my life.”
“This? Throwing knives?”
“Fighting for justice,” I respond with perhaps a little too much defensiveness. My words seem wake to me, and Mr. Kerman senses it.
“Justice? Do you still believe in justice, girl?”
“I mean, I...yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because life is unfair. Justice does not exist in real life.”
“So that settles it doesn’t it? If justice doesn’t exist, we have to fight for it.”
He smirks. “Silly girl. Why would you fight for something that doesn’t exist?”
“So that it has a place to exist. Just because it doesn’t exist doesn’t mean that it shouldn’t.”
He shakes his head.
“You misunderstand. In the real world, justice does not exist at all. The problem isn’t that that there is no place for it. The problem that justice is a false reality.”
“Oh? And who determines what is false and who’s to say which is better? If I’m fighting for a false reality to become the truth, then so be it.”
“Do you want to fight for it?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t answer me so quickly. Think, girl. Or do you not do that at all?”
I narrow my eyes.
“Do you think I haven’t thought about this already? I had thirteen years to think! I had thirteen years to dream about something I was sure couldn’t be a reality, and now, I finally have the chance. I’m not going to give it up now, just because of something some crazy old man is telling me! I spent thirteen years
—
thirteen years of my childhood!
—
rotting away in the middle of nowhere, because of a tragedy you failed to prevent!”
As soon as the words leave my lips, I know that a line has been crossed. This is no longer just a conversation. This is war.
The Kerman father purses his lips and his eyes shoot sparks at me.
“You think you know anything, girl? You think that you know what suffering is, just because your life didn’t work out the way it should have? You think you know everything about my life? You know nothing. I’ve lived three times as long as you have and experienced ten times as much. You don’t know what it’s like to lose yourself to your work because the world depends on you. You don’t know what it’s like not being able to warn your neighbors that the world is going to end, because if you do, your wife and kids will be killed. You don’t know what it’s like, bringing children into a world you know is doomed, and thinking about what would be the least painful way for them to die. You don’t know what it’s like living for years in captivity, not knowing what happened to your family, not knowing if they’re dead, thinking for years that you’re the
only one left
. You don’t know what it’s like to finally see your sons for the first time in
thirteen years
and realize that you’ve missed
everything,
everything you’ve worked for, everything you hoped for. And you don’t know what it’s like to look around and see shadows of yourself on the face of everyone you meet and
know
that they’re going to face the same fate as you. You don’t know what it’s like to look around and see nothing but failure, and the only person left alive to blame is yourself. So don’t talk to me about pain. Don’t talk to me about wasted years. Don’t talk to me about regret. Because believe me, little girl, you may have seen candles go out, but I have seen worlds burn.”
__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __
In several days, Mike get ready to go on a raid once more. We pull the snowmobiles out of the shed and adjust the familiar leather straps of the helmets. As usual, the rest of the Rebellion bids us farewell. Nathan hugs me. Smaller Sally kisses Mike. Everything goes according to the familiar rhythm. The only thing out of place is the Kerman father. He watches us from the corner of the camp and looks like he just ate an entire lemon, his lips pursed in distaste.