“I’m sorry, Brandon. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I am sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke of it, is what I’m saying…. When did you know?” he asked, without looking at him, keeping his eyes on the moonlit water. It moved slowly tonight, not making any ripples, but there was something oddly heavy about it, something menacing in a deep, quiet kind of way, and he thought, dimly, stupidly, that he wouldn’t want to swim tonight.
Brandon was silent for a long time and then timidly, quietly told him that he’d always known something was off with him. He just didn’t know what it was. And then when he was a junior, there was this new kid they brought in, and he could tell this boy was like him, could sense it somehow. Keran, his name was. He kept to himself, but they marked him, the older boys, and they’d catch him after class and beat the shit out of him. He’d stand there and take it, looking at them calmly as they beat him, and then pick up his bag and very slowly walk to his dorm. He’d followed him in secret and watched him for a week until one day, Keran ran up to him, furious, and told him that whatever those other boys put him through was private and it was indecent of him to watch. And that he knew he’d been doing it all along, and in a way, it made him worse than the kids who beat him to just watch like that; that if he had any decency in him, he’d try to stop it instead of lurking in the shadows, enjoying the show.
He was so ashamed then at what he said, but Keran was right. He should have tried to help him, and he wanted to but he was afraid. He wanted to run from him then but for some reason, he couldn’t. He told him that he was too afraid to stick up for him, but he always wanted to, and how he was sorry he was too much of a coward to help him, but that he would if they did it again. He swore to him that he would….
And he did, two days after that, and the boys beat both of them and left them lying on the patch of gravel behind the dorms, bruised and bleeding. Keran put his arm around him to help him up, and for a few seconds, Keran’s face was leaning so close to his, his pale blue eyes watchful, serious, and in that moment he wanted to kiss him more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life and he could see in the other boy’s eyes that he wanted him to...
Brandon stopped, looking at him, his eyes shining.
“What happened to him? To Keran?”
Brandon put his head into his hands, his voice muffled when he spoke again. “We became close after that. One night we snuck into the basement of the old library. Nobody ever went there and it seemed as safe a place as any to make out. This young kid saw us. I didn’t know anyone was watching but Keran… He saw him, the younger boy, and he covered me, pulled my face into his chest. Only I didn’t know why he did it until afterward. Anyway, the kid turned him in and they came and got him that morning. He must have known they would, too. He made me swear to him that I wouldn’t give myself up, no matter what…. And I did, Brody, I had to, the way he was with me. I didn’t know what they’d do to him, never thought about it, you know? But he did somehow, so he made sure I swore to him that I wouldn’t let myself be discovered in that way.” Brandon turned his face away as if he were ashamed and stayed quiet for a few minutes. Brody let him, keeping his own eyes on the dark water in front of them.
Brandon faced him finally. “Are you sure you want to hear the rest of it?”
“I am,” Brody said without hesitation.
Brandon nodded, turned back to the river. “I went to see him in the cell they kept him in but he wouldn’t let the guard let me in. He didn’t want to see anybody, he said. I was so hurt that he wouldn’t see me, I never tried again. They kept him in that tiny cell for a week, trying to get him to talk, but he wouldn’t talk to them, wouldn't talk to anybody….
“That Sunday … they shot him. In front of everybody. It was late April. I remember how the air was just starting to feel lighter, how it didn’t hurt my nose to breathe anymore. They took him out into this big square we had between the dorms and stood him up against the wall, his hands tied behind him as if he could have run, and they ordered twelve of the older cadets to point their guns at him and shoot him.” Brandon squeezed the heels of his palms into his eyes and stayed silent for a few long moments.
Brody stayed as he was, keeping his eyes on the water not wanting to embarrass this man any more than he already had.
He heard Brandon take a sharp breath and let it out and his voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again. “I had to watch, with the rest of my class. He had this white, long-sleeved shirt on because they wanted all of us to see the blood, I think. I remember thinking how nobody in that whole place ever wore white. That it was reserved for parades or weddings, and we never had either, and it seemed like a cruel joke to do that to him…. I should have run out there, should have told them he was with me but I didn’t. I just stood there frozen, afraid, watching them shoot him. He stayed on his feet for the longest time, even when his whole chest was covered in blood, and I swear he smiled, smiled at me when he finally fell…. I don’t know why he didn’t just run that night knowing what they’d do to him. I would have run with him. I never understood why he just let them kill him like that.”
Brandon’s head was still down, and he could tell he was still in that moment reliving the horror of it. Brody squeezed his fingers harder into his shoulder not saying anything; didn’t know what he could say to him after this. Brandon looked at him after a while and said in a whisper, “He was the first and last boy I ever kissed.”
Brody blanched, feeling every shade of guilty for kissing him now.
He couldn’t think of anything he could say to make it easier on him. He got up and went to the water. His nets were empty, except for a few baitfish flailing in that frantic way they always did. He threw in some bait meat and secured the nets with a few large rocks, hoping he’d catch some crabs for Laurel overnight.
Brandon hadn’t moved from where he was, still hiding from him. He crouched in front of him and told him that he would keep his secret if he wanted him to but that he shouldn’t be ashamed of something he couldn’t help. And that they didn’t even think about stuff like that in Reston. Nobody pried into anyone’s private lives there so he could just let it go and maybe find someone to fall in love with again. Brandon still wouldn’t move or look at him.
He took him by the arm and pulled him up, Brandon finally lifting his eyes to him.
“If you thought, even for a second, that I would turn you in or whatever you thought I might do to you for it, why the hell would you tell me?” he asked, trying his best not to sound angry at him.
Brandon looked down. “The way you looked at me with Laurel a few times…. I needed you to know that it wasn’t what you thought it was. Felt like I owed you at least that. And I didn’t want to lie to you.” He looked up at him and his eyes were full of fear again. “I didn’t know if you’d be disgusted by it, by me, is what I’m saying, and I felt all kinds of guilty already for having let you hug me without you knowing before.”
Brody shook his head at him sadly, not finding any of the right words. Didn’t know what it was like to feel guilty over a bloody hug, guilty enough to risk dying over. But he knew enough about people by now to know how he was, and that he was right to worry about him.
“I am really happy you didn’t blow my brains out. I would have never gotten to know you if you had. And for what it’s worth, I like you. I really, truly like you…. You can hug me anytime you want to, is what I’m saying. And now, I’m taking you home,” he said, and without asking permission, threw his arm around him and walked him onto the trail to the city.
They were mostly silent on the way back, but it was a comfortable silence, the kind he didn’t feel bad about. Brandon surprised him by telling him that Laurel knew this already, had known for a while, and it struck him as odd that she kept it from him.
“You should have a kid, Brody…. If you come back whole from this,” Brandon said unexpectedly when they got into the city, looking at him strangely. There was something vulnerable in that look, somethi
ng he’d never seen on him before.
“All the things you’ve been fighting for, it doesn’t make sense if you don’t trust it enough. I think that’s how Laurel sees it; that there is still no permanence to any of it, no real future. And I’d make a great uncle, I think.” Brandon smiled at him, a wide-open smile, and he couldn’t help but grin back at him.
They neared the house, and he saw a small light in their bedroom and felt guilty for keeping her awake. He ran up the stairs and straight into her as she was swinging the door open. She smiled at him but her eyes were red-rimmed and tired, and he felt even more guilty for making her cry. He dropped his head but Laurel just threw her arms around him and kissed him all over the stubble on his cheeks.
“I know I’m at no risk of losing you to this man so you won’t get any more juvenile jealousy out of me. I’m sorry, love.” Brody put his arm around her and hugged her close, enjoying the feel of her, and he thought that maybe, it would be all right. That maybe, they could pull off having a few kids and having a normal quiet life.
He could picture it in his head when he finally drifted off to sleep: Laurel sitting on the little bench in their garden, wearing a frilly dress, something lavender or lilac, not the drab, boyish clothes she normally wore. Her wavy hair blowing in the breeze – sun-kissed and glowing. Honey bees flitting around her noisily, Laurel smiling at them sweetly, not shooing them away.
And there were all these flowers blooming all around her, hundreds of multi-colored blooms, reaching for the sun, their silky petals shining with early morning dew. And he watched as a little curly-haired boy with striking blue eyes snipped the prettiest bloom, whispering to it to behave itself, because it was for his mama, a sweet smile playing on his lips as he carried it to her. He watched his careful, small steps, and suddenly, the boy stopped and turned his head toward him, looking right at him, the sun catching in the gold flecks in his eyes….
He slept with the face of that little boy etching itself into his memory, looking at him with those impossible eyes, waiting.
18
A Soldier
Telan, July 14, 2244, Reston.
Telan knew his father would fight him on it, but there was no way he was going to let them leave him behind for this. He’s been sneaking out to the clearing with the targets in it and shooting every chance he got and he thought he was rather good at it by now. He planned on bringing Lancer here in a day or two to show him what he could do.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and froze, the gun still pointing at the circle on the tree he was shooting at, but he knew his hand was shaking.
“Put the safety back on, before you accidentally shoot at something you don’t mean.”
He did, stuck the gun into his belt, and turned around. Max was looking at him, eyes serious, waiting, but he didn’t know what to say to him.
“All right, Telan. I’ll talk. You’re a good shot, for starters. I’ve been watching you for an hour, and you’ve got a real talent for this. You could be the most gifted shot I’ve ever seen, kid, but it won’t change anything, and I know you know that. He can’t let you go with us, and it would be cruel of you to ask. Never mind the small fact that we don’t let kids fight our battles for us,” he said softly, and then put his arm around him and started to walk him back to the city.
“How long do you think it’ll take for him to not think of me as a kid he lost, Max? I’m only asking because I don’t know what I am supposed to do here…. If I was with Alliance, I’d be an adult now. I want to be a soldier, is what I’m saying, and he won’t even let me train with Brody and the rest of them. I don’t know how to be what he wants me to be.” He stopped, Max facing him, a concerned look on his face.
“I’ll talk to him about letting you train if that’s what you want, but you still can’t come,” Max said sharply.
Telan felt anger rising in him, anger at this man who was looking at him strangely now.
“I need your word that you won’t try to sneak on one of the fliers.” Max stuck his giant hand out.
Telan blushed at this man knowing somehow what he planned to do without him once saying anything about it to anybody, not even Selena. He didn’t have a choice now, he knew that. If he didn’t swear to this man, they’ll just put him into some room under guard or worse, put one of those bands on him to keep him safe, but he still couldn’t bring himself to make the promise the man wanted from him. The promise he didn’t want to keep. He shook his head, looking down at the grass.
“All right,” Max said, and grabbed him by the arm, making him walk again.
They walked silently all the way to Max’s house. Lancer was on the porch, waiting for them. He smiled at them as they approached and told them that he made lunch and he thought it was strange, given that Lancer hated to cook. Telan was too angry to eat, so he sat, staring blankly at a plate with fruit and cheese on it, not touching it, not looking at anybody, either.
“Spill it,” Lancer said sharply, staring at him from across the table.
He didn’t want to argue with him. He shook his head and dropped his eyes again.
“He wants you to let him train, Lancer, and he wants to go with us is what’s going on. He’s been going to the clearing and shooting, I’d guess for a while now. He is quite good at it, too. Wants to be a soldier,” Max said to Lancer, smiling for some reason.
“That right?”
It didn’t matter to hide it anymore, so he nodded, looking at his father, so he’d know he wasn’t lying.
Lancer got up and paced around the small room, hands fisted behind his back. Nobody said anything for a while, letting him pace in silence, and then he turned around and looked at him again. “All right. You can come. But you better be sure you don’t cost us any lives, untrained as you are. You should also know that when we get there, I am a soldier first and your father second. I will not sacrifice any of my men to save you. You’ll be in Riley’s unit, which likely means I won’t even see you until it’s over. Is that acceptable?”
He stood and dipped his head. “It is. May I be excused?”
Lancer just nodded and turned away from him.
He needed to find Riley, find out what he’d have to do, so he could prepare himself. He wasn’t at home when he got there, so he ran to Brody’s. They were all out in the garden, laughing at something the new man, Brandon was doing with Laurel. He stood and watched silently for a while, not wanting to intrude.
“Well, stop eavesdropping and get down here, Telan,” Brody called to him.
He blushed and went out on the deck, smelling the sweet flowery scent, something he didn’t ever recall smelling before.
“I imagine there is at least one of us here that you wanted to talk to. Spill it,” Riley said, smiling at him. He nodded and quickly ran through what his father said, and then told him that he would do what he was told, and wouldn’t put anyone at risk; that he would hold his own, but he needed to know what Riley’s unit was charged with so he could prepare himself.
Riley didn’t say a word, just stood there looking at him, no smiles on his face now. Laurel took everyone else into the house without a word.
“Have a seat, Telan.” Riley pointed at the small bench.
He did, and the man crouched in front of him and grabbed him by the shoulders, staring at his face. “I have twelve men. Four of them have never been in a real fight before, but I’d trained them for all these weeks, and they’re not kids. Nor are they my friend’s only kids. Whatever it is you’re trying to prove to your father, I won’t let you use me to do it. I won’t endanger any of my men because you feel that you’re a bloody grown-up or whatever it is that’s going on with you. You want to be a soldier, then you’ll do it right, and you’re not going anywhere until I’m damn sure you’re ready to at least take care of yourself out there. Is that understood?” he snapped at him, eyes angry, fingers digging hard into his shoulders.
Telan tried to stand up, but Riley pushed him back down. “We’re not done until I say we’re done
, soldier. I don’t care how uncomfortable you are, you will sit here and listen until I say you can go. Now, why don’t you tell me what it is that’s actually bothering you, and I don’t mean about you coming with us, because that’s not going to happen. I want to know why you feel you need to come. What is it you feel you need to prove to Lancer or to yourself?”
He dropped his eyes, embarrassed.
Riley reached over and lifted his head, telling him to bloody look at him.
He forced himself to keep his eyes on him then, but he still couldn’t think of anything to say that would make this be over for him, that would make Riley just let him go.
“When I was a bit older than you, I did something extraordinarily stupid. I couldn’t help it, couldn’t help doing it. My sister, Ella, was taken when I was six, and when I thought I was old enough, I had to save her. So without thinking about it properly, or planning it right, I went in there, thinking I could do it, get her out of there, you know, only, of course, I got caught. The woman who ran the place had the guards take me into this cell in the basement and they chained my hands up to the ceiling, and then she whipped me with one of those old razor whips to where I could barely stand. Only I didn’t learn my lesson even then.
“I went back over that damn fence two days later. If it wasn’t for this girl who found me and kept me safe, they would have killed me and, more importantly, Ella would have still been a slave, as likely as not. The reason I’m telling you this is sometimes you do more harm than good because every instinct in you tells you that you must do something, that you can’t just wait on the sidelines…. You can and you will, because someday, you will be ready to fight or to lead men or whatever it is that you are meant to grow up to do,” Riley said, still holding him, still not letting him move.
Alliance: The Complete Series (A Dystopian YA Box Set Books 1-5): Dystopian Sci Fi Thriller Page 72