Into the Real

by Z Brewer

  Madison shifted awkwardly, forgetting his bearing for the moment. “Fitzsimmons took off. If he knows better, he’ll stay gone.”

  A dull throb was working its way from the base of my skull to my temples. “What are you talking about?”

  “He hit on Conrad last night. It was a total misunderstanding. They were pretty drunk. But today a couple of the guys made sure he knew that kinda thing wasn’t welcome here. Matter of fact, they drove that point home with a bloody nose.” The look on his face suggested he hadn’t agreed with their action, but he was apprehensive about giving voice to his dissent.

  I could feel my eyebrow twitching, my face heating with anger. I’d suspected for a long time that Fitzsimmons was gay—Madison too—or at least on the spectrum, but I never said anything. That was their business. And telling anyone my suspicion about Madison would land him in the same proverbial boat as Fitzsimmons. I didn’t want that. He was a good soldier. So what if he preferred the company of men? Who gave a shit?

  Too many people, I thought.

  The way Madison looked at me now made me wonder if he was assuming things about me the same way I was assuming things about him. A silent understanding passed between us. I offered him a nod and followed Lloyd inside.

  The musty smell of the basement filled my nose as I entered. Shaking off my irritation, I said, “What is it, Lloyd?”

  His shoulders looked tense. All of him did. “Five of our people are dead.”

  “Shit,” I cursed under my breath.

  The basement had been divided into four sections. Central command was in the front. To the right was munitions storage. To the left was the supplies storeroom. We walked through the set of double doors at the end and entered the fourth room—my office. Maps of the town and surrounding areas hung on the walls, next to layout sketches of Allegiance headquarters, photos of their command structure, and an ongoing list of names of every Brume citizen who’d switched over to the Allegiance, as far as we knew. As Lloyd closed the doors behind us, I placed my hand on my large, mahogany desk at the center of the room. My palm was warm against the wood, and the moment I made contact, I felt a strange craving for a cup of tea.

  Strange, because I hadn’t had tea in two years. Stranger still, because I’d never cared much for it.

  My desk was covered with the usual stacks of notes—reminders of all that remained to be accomplished. There were too many things for my heart to handle. A heavy sigh escaped me. “Spit it out.”

  “Apparently, while we were on our mission, some of the guys went on a rogue supply run to the warehouse on the north end of town.” Lloyd paused for a beat, letting his words sink in some. “Caleb’s men were expecting them. We don’t know how.”

  “Collins told him.” My words were matter-of-fact.

  Snapping his eyes to me in surprise, Lloyd said, “Sir, Collins wouldn’t—”

  “He tried to kill me, Lloyd.” I held his gaze. “Snuck up behind me like a coward while we were making our way to outpost one.”

  After a moment’s consideration, he furrowed his brow. “He could’ve told the Allegiance about our plans to attack headquarters. But if he did that, then why didn’t they stop us from destroying the outposts?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they thought I’d lead the team inside HQ. Maybe they were willing to do a little postbattle reconstruction if it meant killing me. We all know I’m not Caleb’s favorite person in Brume.” The corner of my mouth twitched. “Or Kai’s.”

  My brother and I had been as close as siblings could get. He was my mentor, my best friend, the one person I could trust without question . . . until he wasn’t. Losing him would’ve been easier if he was dead. At least then the mourning period would end. Instead, every day carried with it reminders of the pain I’d felt when I learned that my brother wasn’t the person I’d always thought he was.

  “So he sacrificed some of his own men and four of his outposts just to lure you to headquarters?” Lloyd’s words dripped with disgust. His hand found the butt of the gun at his hip in an unconscious manner, as if just the mention of Caleb had stirred up something violent within him. With a sigh, he took a seat. “I guess that makes sense. You’re the face of the Resistance here in Brume. If he kills you, he kills all our hope of taking the Allegiance down.”

  “Don’t give me that crap. I’m not the face of anything. The Resistance would go on without me.”

  He rubbed his brow, as if in an attempt to stave off a headache. “For a while, yeah. But not for long. We need you, Quinn. You’re our inspiration to go on fighting.”

  “Really? Because I thought the inspiration for this stupid fight was all of us, standing up to the racist, immoral, and just plain wrong bullshit that the Allegiance was forcing down our throats. Just because my family chose the wrong side and I made a hard decision to stand with my morals—something anyone could do—doesn’t make me an inspiration. It just makes me a person trying to do what they can for the side of good.” As I sank into my chair, I raked my hair back from my face. “Sometimes, Lloyd . . . sometimes I wonder if I’m helping people . . . or damning them. There are dozens of soldiers in Brume that are older than me and more experienced. Why follow me? I’m just getting people killed.”

  He slapped a hand on the top of my desk, as if trying to wake me from some pitiful dream. “We’ve had this conversation, Quinn. More times than I can count. I told you, I’m through convincing you that you’re doing good here. What are we going to do about our mission failure? News of it will spread like wildfire. People are going to panic.”

  “Maybe they should. What am I even doing here, Lloyd?”

  “From what I can see, you’re losing your grip. Now get your shit together and grow a pair, because like it or not, you are in charge. You are the one who’s going to lead us to removing Caleb from power or die trying. So sack up.”

  Barely able to contain my laughter, I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Sack up?”

  Lloyd chuckled. “It sounded cooler in my head.”

  Leave it to Lloyd to lighten my mood.

  I didn’t know what to do about the failed attack, or the lack of supplies, or the growing sense that I was fighting for a cause that wasn’t really fighting for me. I only knew that I wanted a smoke. Possibly several smokes.

  As I grabbed a pack from my desk drawer, a memory came to me. Familiar, softly spoken words like cobwebs on my brain.

  “No thanks. I don’t smoke.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Not here you don’t.”

  “Quinn?” Lloyd’s voice broke in.

  “Yeah?”

  “You okay? Your face went kinda white for a second there.”

  “I’m fine.” Get it together, Quinn. Get it there and keep it there. You’ve got a rebellion to run. “Any other news to report?”

  For a moment, Lloyd looked like he had something more to say about the way my face had apparently paled, but he quickly shifted gears back to the business at hand.

  “The medics have taken to washing and reusing bandages.” Not good. Used bandages meant infection. Infection meant death. “Intel tells us that the Allegiance has stores of goods—both food and medical supplies—in an old shipping yard on the north side of town. If we can break in there and take out any guards, it could buy us another month, maybe even two.”

  “No.”

  A sliver of concern in Lloyd’s expression widened into a chasm. “It’ll be a challenge, but we can handle it. Preparations need to be made before we can—”

  “I said no. People are dying, Lloyd.” My voice cracked on the last two syllables. I could feel my eyes moistening with guilty tears, but I blinked them away before Lloyd could see. Crying meant being soft, being soft meant being weak, and a leader of the Resistance was anything but that. He couldn’t be. I was supposed to “man up” and keep my shit together. That’s what my dad had taught me. That’s what society had reiterated to me over and over again.

  Sometimes I questioned what the hell society was thinking, dicta
ting what a person could or couldn’t be.

  “People are always dying.” His tone was matter-of-fact. He wasn’t saying it to be cruel. He was just telling me what I needed to be reminded of. “You can’t save them all, Quinn. And what pain, suffering, and death has occurred doesn’t fall on your shoulders alone. You’ve done so much good, risen the Resistance here in Brume to levels we never had a chance of achieving without you. Because of you, we’re going to show those Allegiance bastards that they don’t own us, they don’t own Brume. But you’ve got to get it together. Get it there and keep it there.”

  Inside my troubled mind, I pictured families going without food because I’d failed to do what I’d set out to. Soldiers dying on the table from infection because I hadn’t ensured their well-being. Then I saw Johnson’s face, contorted in pain as he died. His wife. His girls. “It’s too risky. Too dangerous.”

  “Quinn, people need our help, and if supplies are out there for the taking, we should be taking them. If we just—”

  “Find another way!” I’d raised my voice without intending to, but was glad that I did, because Lloyd left the room right then, with purpose in his steps.

  Sighing wearily, I scanned the bookcases and then the large map of Brume hanging on the wall. I glanced down to my desk, where I’d laid out a file folder, my brass knuckles, a pack of cigarettes, and a handkerchief embroidered with a cursive letter L. I picked up the latter and pressed it to my nose, inhaling the subtle scent of rose water. It had been a gift from Lia—one that I’d carried with me on every mission but this last one. I’d simply forgotten it. It was supposed to be good luck, a reminder that she believed in me and the cause, and I’d just left it behind.

  I left her behind.

  “Sir, can I speak with you?” Susan, one of the many soldiers who guarded our base, stood in my doorway looking anxious. Since the day I’d met her, she’d been a straight shooter, not an ounce of bullshit in sight. I liked that about her.

  I returned the handkerchief to my desktop and met Susan’s eyes. I already knew what she was going to ask. She’d asked many times before. When would she get that the answer was no? “What’s on your mind?”

  “I was hoping I could assist on the next maneuver.” Her voice carried with it the strength and assertiveness that I’d come to expect from all Resistance soldiers. Which made it all the more difficult to let her down.

  “You can assist—by staying here and guarding the base.”

  The corner of her mouth twitched. “But sir, I’m more than qualified.”

  Susan had spent thirteen years as a cop before the Allegiance had become an imminent threat to America’s freedom. I still recalled the way she’d worn her hair in a tight bun—a far cry from the pixie cut she donned now. I remembered her uniform, crisp and neat. And the way she’d spoken with such authority on the day we’d met, seven years ago. Kai had been caught shoplifting some candy from the gas station and Susan had been dispatched to put a healthy amount of fear in him. As she’d talked to him about how a small action, a single poor decision, could lead to a life of crime, I’d marveled at the shiny handcuffs on her belt and wondered what it would be like to wear them. To me, her message went largely unheard. I was ten, doing things that a ten-year-old was supposed to do. Not fighting in some shitty war. Not like the ten-year-olds now.

  I sat back in my chair, meeting her eyes. “We’ve had this conversation, Susan. The men wouldn’t trust your abilities or follow your directions out there.”

  “Because I’m a woman?” I didn’t have to speak. She saw the yes written all over my face. I wished it weren’t the truth, that the Resistance was more open-minded about gender roles—better, in that way, than the Allegiance—but we both knew they weren’t. A look of pure disgust flashed in her eyes. “Excuse me, sir, but that’s such bullshit.”

  She was right, but that didn’t change anything. “I wish it were different, but it’s not. If it were up to me—”

  “No offense, sir, but it is up to you. This part, anyway.” Anger lit up her eyes, and I didn’t blame her for feeling it. “Permission to speak freely?”

  “Granted.”

  Her face was flushed, but she kept her tone just this side of furious. “You don’t know how it feels to serve side by side with men, to work equally as hard in defense of a cause, only to be dismissed simply because of someone else’s idea of how a person’s gender affects the way they fit in the world. It’s not fair.”

  She was right. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that she was held to a different standard than her male counterparts. And maybe it wasn’t fair that I kept my feeling of Otherness to myself for fear of the repercussions. Repercussions that I’d be treated less-than . . . the same way she’d been treated. “I’m just as trapped in this patriarchal world as you are, soldier.”

  “No. You aren’t. Men are revered in any military structure. Respected. If you’re not a man, it doesn’t matter how hard you work, you’ll never be looked at the way they are. You can never understand that, sir. Because you’re one of them.”

  I wanted to tell her that I did understand, at least to a point, and that my comprehension was precisely what kept my mouth shut. But in the end, my secrets were mine to bear. She was right, though. I couldn’t really understand. Not fully. By keeping my mouth shut, I avoided much of that prejudice. That was an option that she didn’t have. “What would you have me do? Change the entirety of society?”

  “No. Just help the change begin. Send me on the supply mission. I’m more than capable.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Then you’re part of the problem.”

  My heartbeat thumped inside my chest, reverberating up through my skull—the accompanying drumbeat to a song of my hypocrisy. I kept my tone firm. “As I was saying before, if it were up to me, gender wouldn’t be a determining factor in what we are expected or allowed to do. But I can’t change the way the world works, soldier. Not on my own. And not by sending you into battle when it could lead to infighting in the ranks.”

  “But sir, if—”

  “You know the rules. Women can’t serve at the front. You know that. You want to enlist? Fine. You want to help us fight? Great. Your past skill set is invaluable. But you help from here. You fight behind the scenes by guarding headquarters and no more. That’s just how it is. You’re not going on any missions. And I don’t want to have this conversation again. Am I clear?” I’d risen my voice and meant to this time.

  She dropped her gaze to the floor between us. I was surprised not to see frustrated tears welling in her eyes. If our roles had been reversed, mine certainly would have been. “Yes, sir.”

  “Then we’re done here. Dismissed.” As she exited the room, my chest felt hollow and empty.

  You’re a hypocrite, Quinn, I thought. You’ve been questioning your gender identity and couldn’t even reach past the limitations of the Resistance you’re supposed to be the face of long enough to begin bringing about a sliver of change. She’s right. You are part of the problem.

  Shaking off my thoughts, I flipped open the file nearest me and jotted down the details of our failed abduction attempt. Failed, because I hadn’t kept my eyes on that damn window guard. Failed, because I wasn’t good enough, and now people were going to die because of my failings. With a loud curse, I whipped the pen across the room. It hit the door with a whack and fell to the ground. It was too much, this war. And I wasn’t certain I could help the Resistance any more than I already had. I was running out of ideas. I was running out of steam. I was running out of hope.

  I snatched my pack of cigarettes from my desk and slipped it inside my vest. I walked out of my office, trying my best not to look at the door to the supply storeroom as I passed by. Seeing the empty shelves would do me no good at the moment. I knew we were out of food, out of everything we needed to live. I wouldn’t find the answers there. The answers lay somewhere inside my mind—or at least that’s what my soldiers kept telling me.

  After entering the pa
ss code on the door, I stepped outside and locked it behind me again. Shift change had happened while I was inside. Madison had been replaced by Carlton. I offered him a nod, which he returned.

  With as much care as I could, I made my way to the front doors of the school unseen. Through the doors, I was greeted by the scent of sanitizer, medicines, bleach . . . and blood. Blood that was the result of my actions in one way or another.

  Lia was helping a girl about three years old drink from a cup in the old nurse’s office that now acted as the children’s ward. With a glance at me, she straightened, and her expression fell. She folded her arms in front of her, as if she was trying to sink inside herself or maybe wrap herself in the only comfort she could count on without fail. She should be able to count on me. And I was a shit for hurting her. Even unintentionally. A sigh escaped her as I stepped closer. “You’re going out there again, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “Once we can find a way to safely acquire some supplies. Lloyd’s gathering intel now so we can act soon.”

  Lia blinked, as if to blink away tears, but there were no tears. Her frustration had swallowed them. “You want to end this? Take Caleb out. It’s the only way, Quinn.”

  “You may be right.” All around us, despite the injuries and stress, eyes were lit up in hope—something we hadn’t had an ounce of just a year before. “Killing Caleb is one of those ways. But before we resort to that, I have to try to find a peaceful way to end this.”

  “I know that. I just . . .” She sighed again, meeting my gaze. “I worry.”

  “Me too.” About so much more than she was even aware.

  Her edges softened in concern. “What’s the face of the Resistance worried about today?”

  “Well, for one, Lloyd told me about the bandages.”

  “We’re doing all we can.”