Page 9

CALE

Smoke billowed from the chimney of our tent, the thick tendrils dancing with the falling snow as I tipped my head back toward the early morning sky. A few flakes gathered along my cheeks and arms. The crystal-laced patterns of ice were a distraction from the fear gathering inside my swollen stomach, already overfilled with the food from last night’s dinner. The sun hadn’t yet risen, the dark shadows of the pending morning and the soft sound of Eben’s snores were my only company. Taking a deep breath, I stared up at the sky, letting the moisture gather on my lashes and cheeks. Everything smelled like pine and sage, and possibility. This meeting we had with the Captain, the fight slowly making its way to the gates, I didn’t want to think about any of it. I closed my eyes instead, quieting my tornado of thoughts and allowed my mind to drift, to remember how everything had changed in such a short time. I thought about the heat of the wood stove instead of the cold concrete of Elysium, and Eben’s body as we’d slept huddled together in our meager bed, bundled under wool blankets. I thought about the scent of his skin, sweat and soap, and the heavy weight of his arm as he held me and gave me gravity.

Part of me wanted to float away after I’d heard the news about the militia heading our way. Maybe I should have died in that cell, without the tease of dreaming. Maybe that would have been better than to die now, knowing what could have been. The door to the tent zipped open and I turned to find a sleepy Eben staring at me. He rubbed the back of his neck, a tired smile spreading across his lips.

“There you are.” Wrapping me in his arms, his chest to my back, he asked, “Did you sleep okay?”

I nodded, even though it was a lie. I hadn’t wanted to sleep. Too afraid of what today would bring, and too anxious not to indulge in the last bit of peace we’d been gifted. “Did you?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Those bed rolls are a hell of a lot better than those rotting mattresses they had in the bunkhouses in Elysium.”

“Better than the concrete floor.”

His smile faded. “Cale… I—”

“Don’t apologize.” I turned in his arms and kissed his cheek. “Don’t feel guilty. You were a prisoner too, remember?”

He nodded and I pressed my cheek to his shoulder as his hand trailed up and down my back, warding away the slight shiver making its way under my sleeves. We were both wearing the long johns Thomas had given us last night before he’d shown us to our tent and gave us direction to the bathrooms. “Bathroom” he’d said, “is just a fancy name for the compost toilets.” But the small outbuildings had sinks that were set up like shower houses. Better than anything I’d had access to in a long time, so I hadn’t complained.

Everything here was so much more than I could have hoped for, and the thought of a few rogue militia coming here to pillage and destroy it set my teeth on edge.

“It’s going to be okay,” Eben whispered, his fingers working at the new knots that had formed below my shoulders. “This place… everyone here… They have to have a plan.”

“I guess that’s what the Captain wants to talk to us about?”

Eben’s hands stilled and he took a step back, the cool air chilling my skin again. “I think the militia know I’m here, and after what happened with Treban—”

“You don’t know that,” I argued. “This place is a sanctuary compared to what’s out there. They need supplies. This has nothing to do with us.”

He stared over my head in silence, and I turned to see what had caught his attention. The flurries had dissipated, making it easier to see the ridge of the mountains where they kissed the pale purple sky. The first rays of dawn had shown themselves, and with the morning scattered among the lingering stars it was hard to imagine anything more beautiful.

“It doesn’t look real,” he said.

“It’s like a painting.”

The valley emerged as the sun rose higher in the sky, revealing itself with more brushes of that perfect purple-gray of first light. It had to be close to the time we were supposed to meet the Captain.

As if he’d read my mind Eben said, “We should get ready. Thomas will be here soon.”

We stared at the sunrise for a few minutes longer than we had intended, and by the time we were dressed and back from the bathroom, Thomas was waiting for us outside of our tent.

“Put out your fire and let’s get going. She doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Yes, sir,” Eben and I said at the same time and Thomas laughed.

The Captain’s yurt was at the back of the settlement, which gave us an opportunity to see more of our new home and our new neighbors. Most of the people awake were soldiers, already dressed in the same fatigues we wore. A few of them I recognized from last night, but the majority of them were new faces. Men and women all with smiles as they saluted Thomas.

“You’d think these idiots would be more worried,” Thomas grumbled as he waved at an overeager soldier who couldn’t have been much older than eighteen. “They all want to be fucking heroes.”

“I thought you said we shouldn’t be worried,” I reminded him, and he cleared his throat.

“Well, conflict in and of itself is worrisome. This shit heading our way, though,” he scoffed. “I’m not worried, but all these damn kids, they’re too keen for glory and gunfire. I just want to eat, sleep, and fuck my wife. I think I’ve earned it.”

My eyes widened and Eben barked out a laugh. “I’d love to know what Sammie thinks about that statement,” he whispered, and I held back a laugh of my own.

“Hell, she’d agree.” Thomas puffed out his chest and held out his arm, pointing toward a row of yurts. “Head that way; you can’t miss it. The Captain’s yurt is the last one at the end of the lane.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Eben asked.

“I have orders.” He gave us a nod before heading back toward the shower houses.

“Shit.” I took Eben’s hand in mine. “I’m scared.”

“Me too,” he said. “But I’ll do whatever she wants, answer anything as long as it keeps you safe.”

“Keeps us safe. Your safety matters too. You’re going to volunteer to fight?” I asked, knowing I was right even though he didn’t answer. “Eben?” He still didn’t answer, his grip in my hand tightening as he pulled us down the lane. “You’re not trained, and what about your lungs?” I yanked my hand free from his, and he stopped. “Eben, you can’t.”

“I was a prisoner,” he said, his voice cracking. “But I was selfish too. I could have run away, could have done more than I…” He shook his head when I started to argue, silencing me. “I want to fight for something good, Cale. I have to.”

The words were a vow, and my hands shook at my sides as he turned and stormed down the path with terrifying determination.

EBEN

I didn’t dare look back. If I took one look at Cale’s face I might change my mind. I didn’t deserve any of this. This place or its kindness or its people. I wasn’t militia, but I had been complicit for far too long. I wanted to earn my place here, a place in Cale’s heart. He thinks I saved him, but he saved me.

“Eben, wait.” Cale was out of breath when he caught up to me, and another pinch of guilt twisted my stomach. “Look at me.”

All the air in my lungs seized as I stared at the wetness on his cheeks. I held his face in my hands, brushing my thumbs across his cheeks as he spoke. “You don’t have to fight. You don’t have to prove anything to—”

“Are you boys going to come inside, or do you plan on wasting more of my time?” A tall woman dressed in NEA fatigues glared at us. “Get your asses in here, I don’t have all damn day.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I dropped my hands, and she rolled her sharp black eyes.

Everything about her was sharp, her chin and pointy nose all made to look more severe by how tightly her salt-and-pepper hair had been pulled back into a bun, as if the tanned skin on her face was being stretched beyond its capability.

I swallowed and followed her into the yurt with Cale right behind me.

“Have a seat. We have a lot to discuss, and I don’t want to miss breakfast.” She watched us carefully as we did as she ordered, something like a scowl blooming at the corner of her mouth.

She reminded me of my third-grade teacher who used to yell at me every time I had to use the bathroom.

“Breakfast is the only thing I look forward to these days. Which makes me feel old.”

I couldn’t tell how old she was, but the mottled colored spots on her hands made me think she had to be over fifty.

“Captain, I—”

She waved me off. “I’ll do the talking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She gave us both a half-hearted smile as she smoothed her hands over the top of her desk. “I take it you’ve both settled in. Got everything you need?”

“Yes, thank you. We’re lucky to be here,” Cale said, the frustration in his tone unmistakable.

She raised her brow and narrowed her eyes. “I suppose you wanted me to be like one of those mother types, all soft welcomes, and serve you cookies and milk while you tell me about your nightmares?” She huffed out a humorless laugh. “Why? Because I’m a woman?” she asked, her Midwest accent more apparent with her anger. “Because that’s what women do? At least that’s what the militia would have me doing. I’m too old to be a breeder, and God forbid anyone with a vagina get a gun. We might revolt.” A real smile graced her lips. “Well, guess what? I got a gun, and that’s exactly what I fucking did.”

“And some of us were imprisoned,” he said. “We’ve lost in this war too.”

“I suppose you have.” She raised her chin, her words softening. “Forgive me. Thomas says I should be more trusting. I guess I always think the worst of people. Occupational hazard.”

“We’re not here for trouble,” he said, and she stared at me.

“What about you? You didn’t lead the militia here?” she asked, and the knot in my stomach gave a painful lurch.

Nauseous, I stammered. “I-I don’t think so.”

“You don’t sound so sure,” she said, any softness she had afforded us disappeared behind her black knowing eyes. “You were a Dusk Guard in Elysium, were you not?”

“I was, but I was a prisoner first.”

She held up her hands. “So, I hear. Though, I find it convenient we have freedom fighters making their way to our doorstep right after you two get here. Did you stir up a hornet’s nest escaping? Or are you spies?”

“Spies?” Cale asked, his voice raised. “He nearly died getting me out. Tell her, Eben. Tell her what you had to do.”

The Captain chewed the corner of her lip, again with those assessing eyes seeing through me. Anxiety and fear gripped my throat as I spoke. My words scratchy as I admitted to murder. I told her everything I’d done as a prisoner, as a guard, as a man who had fallen for Cale and hope, as a man who’d killed to be free from the shadows of it all. She listened quietly, her eyes never leaving mine. I wanted to be strong, to show her despite it all I was ready to be more. For him, for me, for the war. But I broke down, the exhaustion of everything, the last few days, few months, this guilt, all the time I’d given to fear, it spilled over, and I couldn’t stop the tears. I couldn’t stop any of it.

“You fought for what you believed in,” she said, and there was a trace of that motherly tone she had rejected earlier. It was there in her eyes too, more brown than black now, under the firelight of her stove. It didn’t do much to soothe me. “There is no shame in that. We all had games we played to get through this shit. To live another day.”

“He saved me,” Cale said. “He didn’t have to, I know that. But he still seems to think he owes us all something.”

“Cale,” I warned, but he shook his head.

“He’s going to ask you to let him fight today, and I’m—”

“You don’t want him to,” she surmised.

“No, ma’am.”

“That’s my choice,” I argued, but the Captain had other plans.

“I will always ask the willing to fight, but you boys would serve us better if—”

“Captain, I can do this. I can fight.”

“You’re not ready, Eben. And Cale certainly isn’t, and something tells me he’d go anywhere you go.”

“I would,” he said, the two words drumming a defiant beat. “I will.”

“See what I mean. You’ll get yourselves, or one of our boys, killed, trying to keep your asses out of trouble.” She sat back, tapping her fingertip on the top of her desk. “No… you’re not ready for the front line. You want to fight? You want to earn your spot. I can respect that. And you still can.”

“How?” Cale asked before I could.

“With intel.”

“Intel.” I repeated.

“Tell me what you know about these so-called freedom fighters, about the guards, about Elysium. You tell me everything I need to know about those fucks…” Her lips parted as she smirked. “And I guarantee you and Cale a spot here for as long as you want it.”