Three

by Kristen Simmons

  “Hey, you think anyone would mind if I take an extra towel?” He stepped deeper into the supply room and I flattened myself as close as I could between the door and the wall. “My girlfriend used hers to dry off after the rain, and, well, you know. Girls.” There was a soft thumping noise, followed by Sean’s guilty, “Oops.”

  Towels spilled across the floor, stopping just before my feet.

  Rocklin hesitated, then entered the supply room and began helping Sean pick up the mess.

  Without wasting a moment I padded by, catching Sean’s gaze just for a second as I passed. You’re welcome, he seemed to say, and I nodded, and broke through the barrier into the cool night air.

  The barn was at the front of Endurance, near the gardens and the fishing lake. I didn’t go straight there, but made for a row of trees on the north side that would protect me from the accusing spotlight of the moon. The wet grass sloshed beneath my feet as I reached the high wooden fence that ran toward the length of the compound. Overhead, movement in the trees drew my attention—one of Three’s guards like those outside the entrance. I ducked down low, catching my breath.

  Even if I escaped Rocklin’s watch, it didn’t mean I could leave.

  You can trust me, you know.

  I did trust Sean. Outside of Chase and Rebecca, there was no one I trusted more.

  Not that long ago you thought I was the enemy, too.

  Things weren’t black and white, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t pick a side.

  I shook my head clear and raced along the vine-covered perimeter barricade until I reached the barn. Inside, the horses were restless, stamping their feet and snorting, but no human voices could be heard. I hoped I wasn’t too late, that Chase hadn’t thought I wouldn’t come and returned to the camp. So much had happened since I’d seen him last. It felt like weeks had passed, not just two days.

  A ladder stretching to the loft leaned against the siding. Thinking that I might have a better view of the surrounding area from higher ground, I clasped the splintered rungs and hauled myself up. Once I reached the top, I hopped through the opening and was surrounded by the sweet musty smell of hay and horses. The compartment was stacked with bales of straw, and there, already moving toward me, was Chase.

  Before I could draw another breath, I was swept up in his arms. My feet lifted off the floor, my arms wound around his neck. He smelled like the rain and felt like home, and I held him just as tightly as he held me, relieved to finally be close to him again.

  After too short a time he set me down, but his hands stayed on my waist and my fingers spread over his chest. The splinters of starlight that speared through the cracks in the ceiling softened the strong lines of his face, bringing out his smooth skin and dark, messy hair.

  “I didn’t think you were going to be able to shake your new friend,” he said, referring to Rocklin. His lips quirked on one side.

  “Sean helped,” I said with a guilty pang. “Speaking of Sean, what did you do to his shoulder?”

  His nose scrunched and he looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Never mind. I don’t want to know,” I said. “What about you? Are they watching?”

  He shook his head. “Not since Jesse’s been back.”

  I felt the scowl pull at my mouth. My conversation with Jesse at the camp reminded me of more pressing issues.

  “Another post was attacked—”

  “They’re deploying teams—”

  Simultaneously, we launched into our hurried reports, then stopped, and waited for the other to speak. When neither of us did, we both smiled.

  As if by need his hand lifted, and his knuckles skimmed down my cheek. I closed my eyes, wanting to live forever in that moment but knowing it was impossible.

  “Tucker sent another message.”

  His hand dropped.

  “Okay.” He sat on the hay bale and patted the space beside him. “Sounds like you better go first.”

  I told him everything. About the message from Tucker. About my request that Chase and I be the ones to bring him in for questioning, but that DeWitt had chosen Sean instead. About the census reports I’d seen the techs taking in the north wing, and how Three’s mission to attack the Charlotte base was bound to fail because the numbers simply did not work out.

  “Slow down,” he said. I hadn’t realized I’d been talking faster and faster, or that I’d risen and begun to pace until he grabbed my hands and stopped me. A light tug, and I was sitting beside him again, watching as he chewed his bottom lip and wound his fingers in and out of mine.

  “It doesn’t make sense. They wouldn’t send everyone out if they didn’t think we had a chance.”

  “I’m telling you, they are,” I said, the anxiety crawling up my chest. “It’s a suicide mission. DeWitt practically said it. The point is to show the people just what kind of retaliation the MM is capable of.”

  “But so many people know that already,” he argued. “All those people in the Square in Knoxville. Everyone who doesn’t pass a home inspection. People aren’t stupid.”

  “I know,” I said. “But they’re scared, and they’re not doing anything. They’re just trying to survive day to day. Three wants to get the attention of everyone, even the compliant. They think it’ll start some sort of large-scale uprising I guess.”

  Chase was silent for a long time. He lifted our clasped hands and brushed my fingers absently from side to side over his lips. I swallowed, feeling a flash of heat streak down my arm.

  “The guy in charge down there—Patch—he hasn’t said anything about that,” he said finally.

  “Well why would they?” I jerked my hand away, unable to concentrate while he was distracting me. “They wouldn’t just tell you they’re sending you out to die.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I think they might. Some of these people … the cause is all they have.” He smoothed his furrowed brows and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. It seemed impossible for him to go more than a few seconds without touching me. I hadn’t realized it, but I’d already moved closer to him. Our knees brushed, and the toes of my boots came to rest on his.

  “It’s going to happen during the chief’s celebration. We’re supposed to wait for a sign,” he said. “We’ll know it when it happens. That’s when we attack the base. Patch is talking like we have a good chance of making a mark.”

  It felt like bolts had straightened my spine. “What do you mean we?”

  He glanced to the floor. When he spoke again his voice was lower, older, if that was possible. “We’re always talking about doing something, aren’t we? That it isn’t fair how they keep taking everything away. Maybe this is how we get it back.”

  “Chase, you’re not listening to me.”

  “I’m listening.” He pulled out a fistful of hay from the bale beneath him and twisted it until the dry pieces popped and broke apart. “I know it sounds crazy, but I think I’m supposed to fight.”

  I shook my head. I wanted retribution, I wanted to fight back. But not like this. Not when we didn’t even have a chance.

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “You hate fighting.” You hate killing.

  “But maybe I keep going back to it for a reason.” He scratched his head.

  I’m a soldier, Tucker had told me once. If I’m not out there, I’m not anything. The likeness made my stomach hurt.

  “Besides, Jesse says fighting’s in our blood.”

  “Jesse…” I groaned. “Jesse’s been here five minutes. Don’t you think it’s a little weird that he’s all gung ho when just last week he was hiding out at a safe house?”

  Chase frowned. “He was in the army, you know. The real army, before the FBR.”

  That wasn’t enough to prove he was a hero in my book, but as always, going up against Chase’s uncle got me nowhere. I floundered, looking for a way to make Chase see reason, but came up blank.

  He gave a one-shouldered shrug, looking a little embarrassed. “He fought
for something important once. He did great things.”

  I took a breath, held it a moment. “He did some things that weren’t so great, too.”

  He nodded. “But the good things cancelled out the bad. Or, no…” He focused on a point on the floor and scratched the back of his head. “Nothing cancels out the bad. But doing enough good things can make the bad … less bad.” He made a noise in the back of his throat. “Jesse’s earned his rest in the Spirit World, that’s all I’m trying to say.”

  The hay dust was suspended in the air between us, as if time had stopped.

  “I don’t know if the bad things ever go away,” I said slowly. “But if they could, I think your slate would be wiped clean. And if there is a Spirit World, I think you’ve earned your rest there, too.”

  He looked at me for a long time.

  “Not yet,” he finally said.

  I looked at my hands that had turned into fists on my lap and watched as he took them and pulled gently, until I was curled up on his lap, my cheek against his neck.

  “You’re really going,” I whispered. He kissed the top of my head. Everything inside of me felt stretched, like the handful of straw he’d twisted until it broke apart. “Then I’m coming with you,” I said. It wasn’t like I was going to meet Tucker, and anyway, Chase was more important. Even if I had to sneak out, I would be by his side.

  He didn’t say anything.

  “This morning, when I heard they’d sent a team out to get our injured, I thought you were gone. I thought Three had sent you away. Those moments before I knew were some of the worst I’ve ever had.” I sat up and faced him, running my thumbs down his jaw. “If you’re going to fight, I’m going to fight. If you want to run, we’ll run. But I’m not letting you leave without me.”

  I kissed him. I pressed all my fear and pride and love into that kiss, and when I pulled away his eyes were glassy with emotion and his breath came in one hard heave.

  “Okay,” he said. And then again. “Okay.”

  Then he kissed me back.

  It was like every kiss we’d ever shared pressed into one, and because of that so different from anything I’d experienced before. The feelings seemed to collide inside of him, spark, and combust, and soon I was straddling his lap, gasping for breath while he poured every ounce of himself into each touch.

  Tomorrow disappeared. Everything disappeared.

  His fingers threaded through my hair and inched down my back, pressing us closer. I lifted my chin for air, and his mouth found my neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to my collarbone, where the Saint Michael pendant slid along the chain. The heat exploded within me, ricocheting out to my limbs, making every part of me come alive. My hands flew over his chest, his strong shoulders, around to his back and under his shirt to the rippled scar that wrapped around his side. I tugged the fabric over his head, needing to feel his skin. Needing to push us farther.

  He stood, and for a moment I was weightless, my knees locked around his hips while he supported my back with one arm. And then the boards of the loft groaned softly as he kneeled and stuffed his shirt beneath us. He hovered over me, balancing his weight on his elbows, pausing for a moment to check my reaction.

  I flattened my hand over his heart, feeling it beating hard. Feeling it as if it were mine, and knowing if he was gone, mine too would go silent. His chest rose and fell with each breath. He seemed to think I was pushing him back and added more distance between us, but I stopped him when I shimmied out of my shirt and tossed it aside.

  I stared up at him.

  He slowed then, and shifted to his side. His finger drew a line from my throat to my belly button and I wondered if he could feel the way my muscles jumped beneath his touch. I focused on his Adam’s apple bobbing, aware of a new, demanding need taking over, overriding the fear and insecurities, blending us together, stripping us down to the truth: that there was nothing more than him and me, than warmth and trust and right now.

  “Wait.” I reached down into my pocket, and removed the two plastic squares Rebecca had given me, reminding myself to thank her later. I shoved them into his hand.

  He shook his head, as if trying to clear it.

  “Where’d you get this? Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” He cleared his throat. His fingertips skimmed down my neck, to my bare shoulder, and down my arm to my wrist. “Are you sure?”

  I knew he meant not just about this, but about my promise to stay with him, and I nodded, terrified, but in a good way, because he made me strong.

  “Yes.”

  I watched as he placed a gentle, trembling hand in the curve of my waist.

  He kissed me then, firmly, but slowly enough to break my heart. Our words turned to whispers, then to sighs, then to gasps. And as the moonlight shifted across the window, every worry of what tomorrow would bring, every worry that I didn’t know what to do, melted away, until there was only us.

  * * *

  SOMETIME later we untangled our limbs and shyly sorted through our clothes. We took a long time to dress, as if dusting off our shirts and slowly tying our bootlaces meant that this thing—this really big, important thing that had happened between us—was over.

  It was late; the moon had disappeared from the small window near the barn’s ceiling and risen in the night sky. The heavy breathing of the horses in the stalls below filtered up through the boards. I stared at the ladder leading down to the ground, and thought of the dorms, of my bunk above Rebecca and Sean, who were preparing to say good-bye, and felt a sharp pain in my chest. I didn’t want to go back.

  Tomorrow Three would send us out to fight. I didn’t know what to expect, but I knew we would play our part. And hopefully, that would mean more than just these stolen moments.

  Chase was seated on a bale of straw beside me, and I couldn’t help but smile at the pieces of hay that stuck to him. I leaned forward, a little embarrassed, and shook out my hair, knowing it probably looked like a bird had made its nest there. He caught a piece in his hand, and as I sat up, he placed it back on my head.

  “What are you doing?” I giggled. He put another piece back in my hair just as I removed the previous one.

  “I like it.” Another piece. “There,” he said as if he’d completed a masterpiece. I went to jab him in the side, but his smile had softened. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I swallowed, feeling my cheeks warm as all the other emotions rose up inside of me, love and fear and need and even sadness, because as much as this was the beginning of something, it was the end of something, too.

  Beneath us, one of the horses stomped and snorted, and I glanced down, seeing the note he’d sent me that had fallen out of my pocket. I scooped it up.

  “Sorry about that,” he said. “Not a lot of options for scratch paper around here.”

  I nodded, thinking of the boxes of Statutes in the north wing, and the woman at the computer who’d told me they hijacked the distribution trucks on their way from the printer.

  “Very clever,” I said, unfolding it and staring at the words that had brought me here. Barn Tonight. I wondered if he would think I was silly if I kept it.

  I flipped the sheet over again, preparing to fold it, but paused when I saw how the words written on the back had bled through the printed type when the sheet had gotten wet.

  I thought of the Statutes posted on my door during the arrest. Posted on every door in the towns we’d passed through on our way here. Posted all over Knoxville and Louisville and every city in the country.

  I thought of my mother and her magazines, the articles inside filled with treason.

  And DeWitt: The people are sleeping. We needed a way to wake them up.

  “What if Three doesn’t have to fight the MM alone?” I asked.

  Chase’s brows arched. “What do you mean?”

  “What if we could get the people to join with us?”

  When a government becomes destructive, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute a
new government. Jesse’s words echoed in my mind.

  “Then we’d have a revolution,” he said.

  I stood up, the note tight in my fist.

  “Come on,” I said. “We’ve got to find DeWitt.”

  CHAPTER

  13

  THE Lodge was quiet—eerie quiet. Like something might jump out of each shadow the flickering torchlight threw across the hallway. We bypassed the first two men guarding the north wing without any trouble, but once we got to the door of the radio room we came face-to-face with Rocklin. He crossed his arms over his narrow chest and leaned against the closed door.

  “Why am I not surprised you’d show up here?” he asked.

  “How strange,” I said. “I was just about to say the same thing.” I mimicked his posture, sick and tired of all the suspicion.

  “Looks like great minds think alike,” said Chase. “We need to talk to DeWitt.”

  I tried to smile nicely, but when I glanced over at Chase I saw there was still a piece of straw in his hair. I combed a hand through my own, hoping he might copy the move on himself, but instead he only gave me a strange look. The gesture was not lost on Rocklin, who snorted, and said, “Kind of late to be cleaning stalls.”

  I snatched the straw out of Chase’s hair.

  “DeWitt,” I said. “Can you tell him we’re here? Please.”

  “What makes you think he’s here?”

  The door opened inward, and Rocklin stumbled backward, catching himself on the frame just before he fell.

  “Because I am. What’s this about?” DeWitt appeared behind him. The room was dark but for a lantern resting on the table beside the radios, and the dim yellow light made his face appear gaunt, and the scars on his cheeks deeper.

  None of the other techs were present.

  “I … um…”

  He didn’t look pleased to see us. It hadn’t occurred to me until just then that DeWitt might not hear me out.

  “Sorry about the interruption, doctor,” said Rocklin.