“If you all run to their aid now,” Solomon calls, “there will be no one left to defend this factory.”
“They won’t stop at this,” another voice shouts, booming over the noise. “You know as well as we do, they have no limit—no boundary they won’t cross to win. They’ll cut down every Worker still trapped inside until we surrender!”
“Surrender is not an option!” Takeshi steps forward. He wears black, a rifle on his back. “Forget the word. Help is coming. We won’t be alone in this for long.”
“You keep saying that.” A large man in Watcher clothes jabs his finger at Takeshi. “But I’m starting to wonder if it isn’t just a ploy to keep us loyal.”
“They are coming,” Takeshi replies. “And until they do, we must hold steady. Run reckless into battle, and every one of us will fall.”
The man inches closer, glowering at the prince of the South. “I will not stay hidden because you’re afraid to die.”
Takeshi’s expression never changes. His voice is calm when he speaks. “What I fear is not my death, but the death of every man, woman, and child who has trusted their life to us. If these soldiers charge into battle too soon, you leave this compound exposed.” He moves closer to the man, holding his glare. “We can deal with this in a calculated way. But to do that, we cannot lose ourselves in panic.”
Seconds tick, and the man says nothing. They stare at one another, until finally the Watcher caves.
“It’s on your head,” he growls before stepping back into the crowd.
We reach the center as the two part ways, and all eyes turn to Cash. I want to scream at them, to fight them back as they scowl untrusting at the son of their enemy.
“Back to your posts,” Solomon orders. “If you have families here, take a moment to comfort them. You will be given further instructions as soon as a plan is devised.”
Cash doesn’t stop until we’ve reached the brick room. Solomon, Takeshi, Meli, and Brookes crowd in with us. Cash stands with his fists clenched, facing the wall. He is a statue, stone-faced and immobile, but there is power behind his glare—rage boiling behind his eyes.
No one speaks. They wait, giving Cash the right to be heard first. A sickening feeling turns over in my stomach. How many died tonight? I chew the inside of my mouth, anxious to act.
When Cash finally turns, he looks like someone new.
“We have to get them out,” he says, his tone quiet and tense.
Solomon frowns. “There are too many. We could never—”
“Then we get as many as we can!” Cash shouts, veins bulging at his temple. He points toward the wall and the enemy beyond. “The Council—my father—will kill every soul in this valley before they’ll accept defeat.”
Meli steps forward. “The army is coming—”
“There’s no time.” Cash drops to a crouch and rubs his face. Again, he stands.
“Son, please listen to me,” Solomon says. He moves toward Cash in the same cautious way Meli approached the bear on the mountain. “Every word Titus spoke tonight was meant to rattle you. Don’t let his lies take root.”
“It isn’t his words,” Cash says, his eyes pleading with Solomon to understand. “It’s the things they will do to win.”
“They can’t win,” Brookes says. “Once the Southern army arrives—”
“It will be too late,” I say. They all turn to me, but I look at Cash. I know what’s driving him, and it isn’t what they think.
“They know they’ve lost,” I say. “They know what’s coming for them.” Gratitude flashes in his eyes. He turns back to Solomon.
“At this point, it’s not about regaining control. They will raze this valley to the ground before they allow anyone to go free.”
“Leave no survivors,” Meli murmurs.
“Exactly. And in their minds, that will be the victory.”
“But where do we take them?” I ask. “If we get them over the mountains, we’re still in the North. How close are we to the border?”
Solomon sighs. “Not close enough. It’s for that reason we’ve not evacuated anyone yet. There simply is no clear path to safety.”
“But surely they’re safer on the mountain than in range of enemy weapons,” says Takeshi. “Let’s say we get some out, can we hide them in the forest until my father arrives?”
“How do we go about choosing who to rescue?” Brookes asks, his critical gaze bouncing from face to face. “Are we talking a small group or multiple evacuations in several locations at once?”
Takeshi glances at Solomon. “Can we do that?”
“Bo,” I say, drawing their eyes back. “He mentioned the way you rescued us by drawing Watchers off the towers with explosions.”
Solomon settles in a chair by the wall and leans forward, head bobbing as he considers my words. “Go on.”
“When you blow up the jets on the airfield, won’t that draw a large number of soldiers in? They’ll be taken by surprise.”
Takeshi nods. “It won’t be a long window, but it might work.”
Brookes shakes his head. “They’ll be on high alert all over the valley. It will draw in extra troops, but not enough to clear paths through the fence.”
“We need more attacks in more locations,” Solomon says. “All timed together to throw them off guard.”
“If you did this to rescue Workers once before,” Meli says, “you’ll have to hit places of high importance to create the same panic.”
“What are our options?” asks Takeshi. “Our supply is limited. Every hit has to count.”
We list them off. Medical facilities. Food storage.
“Not good enough,” Cash says. “They’ll have all they need within the walls of the base.”
We’re quiet for a minute, all our minds trying to think past the screams still echoing fresh in our memories.
“The factories,” I offer into the silence. “How many are still running?”
“Only a handful in each sector,” Brookes answers. “But if they’re killing the Workers now, will destroying the factories really matter?”
“To the Council, no,” Cash says, “but the Watchers may run to lessen the damage. As far as they know, it’s on them to keep the valley functioning.”
Solomon grabs a map, and we set to choosing what facilities to attack. A strange sensation runs through me when they select the cosmetic factory, where I worked all my life until this revolution. It’s a place I want to see demolished, so I don’t challenge it. But there’s something sad about destroying memories, no matter how ugly.
5
Darkness follows us out of the factory. The temperature has dropped, but the sky is clear. The stars hang above us, and the moon glows bright, though less complete than the days before. I’m dressed in black, my hair hidden beneath a knit cap. Dirt and ash darken my face, meant to help me hide on the mountain.
Teams stand in groups. Solomon tried to be selective, only recruiting trusted soldiers, but how a person acts and what’s buried deep inside are different things. It feels like a guessing game we can’t win.
“Come back safe,” I say to Meli, the cold wind rattling our clothes.
She drops an arm across my shoulders. “Never mind that. Remember the end goal. You’re already free. Now it’s time to bring the others with you.”
I hold her gaze until she backs away and turns, following Takeshi and Brookes. Takeshi points at me.
“Tomorrow,” he says, the word nearly lost in the breeze. But I heard him, and I won’t forget. Tomorrow is what we’re fighting for. All our tomorrows. I watch their backs until they’re out of sight. They might be running into a trap…we can’t know. But we cannot let the Council make the first move. Pride pools warm in my chest.
“I heard about the other guy,” a quiet voice says beside me. Blake, the Watcher we met on our last assignment, mirrors my appearance: dressed for the mountains.
A pang of sadness hits me, blossoming into another layer to add to all the grief. I smile gently,
forcing all the feelings down deeper.
“Drew,” I say, and the space between us quiets. We stand together watching the activity.
“Will we remember them all?” Blake asks. “You think we’ll remember all their names in the end?”
My gaze shifts to a specific spot on the street, the place where Edan was killed, shot dead to save his friend. I know exactly where it happened; my eyes stick to it every time I pass. Just north stood the barricade. Tom died there…and many others. Then there were the tanks, a barrage of fire that killed dozens before they detonated, killing more.
“We have to,” I say. Kind eyes meet mine, like the night we met outside the gathering of Watchers. “We’re the only ones who can.”
He gives me a sideways look. “Provided we make it out alive ourselves.” Then he passes me a small bag of dried oats. “For energy,” he says. “Can’t run on passion alone.”
I thank him and lift a small bunch out with my fingers, dropping the tiny flakes into my mouth. Whatever food we find is a precious gift. I force myself to eat, though my stomach is in knots.
Cash approaches at our right. “Time to get moving.”
He’s dressed in his old Watcher clothes: black fatigues, a rifle on his back, a handgun strapped to his leg. He touches my back, where a gun hides, holstered under a black band.
“What about the Workers here?” Blake asks. “Shouldn’t we be leading them out too?”
“Ideally,” Cash says, looking to the factory. It’s much more frightening at night. All the gaping holes and blown out windows hold nothing but darkness. Deep in its center are hundreds of eyes, hundreds of chattering teeth and huddled spines. Would they trade the relative warmth for safety on the mountain if they knew the Council was coming full-strength?
“But tonight, we have to choose,” Cash continues. “For the moment these people are safe.”
“Let’s pray they stay that way while we’re gone.” Blake grips Cash’s shoulder before he walks to another group of soldiers. Cash turns to me, and I don’t miss the change in his expression It’s a slight adjustment, an added tenderness…and worry. But he doesn’t voice it.
“Ready, soldier?” He calls me soldier like I’ve earned the title. I’m not sure I have. But a large portion of the rebels are made up of scrawny ex-Workers who know nothing of battle, of taking lives, or of strategy. They keep moving forward despite their lack, and so will I.
“Will this work?”
“I don’t know,” is all he says, but his eyes say other things. They tell me it doesn’t matter; he has to do something. We’re taking so many risks tonight, many of them based off one message, one demonstration from Titus that could prove false. But I heard the screams. The sounds still reverberate through me, creeping under my skin. It’s something in the tone, a quality in the sound that gives it away. When you’ve lived your whole life in terror, you recognize it easily.
“Cash.” Solomon jogs over. “Take extra care—both of you. I don’t know what kind of reward Titus is promising, but he wants you both, and I suspect he’ll offer just about anything.”
“We’ll be careful,” Cash replies. “I expect you to do the same.”
Solomon throws his arms around the younger leader, clapping him hard with a hug.
“I don’t tell you this enough,” he says, hand gripping the back of Cash’s neck, eyes full of knowing. “But your mother would be so proud. You know that, don’t you? So proud.”
Cash’s jaw tightens, a biting back of emotion. The two men share in a silent agreement. After a few steps toward the factory, Solomon turns back.
“Have I told you, Hannah, that I met your parents once or twice? Early on,” he says, “before you were born.”
My ears fill with rushing, a pulsing I feel all the way to my toes. Stunned, I forget to answer.
“You’re so much like them,” he continues, but I can’t let him say more because he’s wrong.
“I wish that were true.” Then I ask, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It’s important that we find our own strength,” Solomon says, “and in your case, with parents like yours, it was imperative. I want you to know, I never placed expectations on you based on your parents’ contributions to our cause. The respect I have for you…you earned fully.”
He looks like he might go, might walk away with all the memories I want to extract from his mind. Desperate, I push through the haze and pain of sorrow and ask, “What were they like? When you met them…”
His smile is sad. “Incredibly brave. I met them just after our first attempt at an uprising. Regardless of our failure, your father believed this day would come.” My gaze falls as I try to imagine them as they were then. “He was unrelenting, Hannah. And if he could see you today, he would be enormously proud of the woman you’ve become.”
I can’t meet his eyes when he touches my arm. “It’s the becoming that matters. For all of us. Who we become is far more important than who we were.”
He leaves, and Cash rests his hand on my back while my burning eyes stare a few more seconds at the ground.
“You okay?” he murmurs.
“Fine,” I say, attempting a smile. But the truth is I’m being haunted by memories.
We gather to leave, some of our group lifting packs of supplies to their shoulders. Again and again I breathe out slow, pushing the air until my lungs demand an inhale. Then I expel it. It’s all I can do to fight the nervous waves crashing over me. Trying to stop me. Trying to make me quit. But it only takes a reminder of the screams, a memory of Outcast faces from our last assignment, and I’m focused again.
A figure runs toward us from the factory, smaller than the other soldiers—and fast. When he reaches the moonlight outside the factory’s shadow, I know who it is. Cash knows too; he’s already moving to intercept.
“Sam—” He sets a hand on the panting boy’s chest to stop him.
“I know what you said.” Sam’s eyes plead. “But I’m brave enough. I want to go!”
Cash kneels. “No one is questioning your courage.”
Sam shifts on his feet, balancing on his toes. Ready to run. Prepared to fly.
“Please don’t make me stay. My parents are still out there.”
“Look at me,” Cash says. His voice reminds me of my father, the times he scolded me. “You have to stay. You’re brave, and I know that more than anyone. Right now, you cannot leave your brother and sister. Do you understand me? No one can protect them like you.”
Sam glares. “Will you die?” he whispers.
He asks it angry, his small body trembling. Cash sets a hand on the back of the boy’s head and levels their eyes.
“Will you?”
Something unspoken passes between them. Sam’s face smooths, until he appears almost calm...content. They nod at one another.
“Get back to them,” Cash says.
Before Sam leaves, he wraps his arms around my waist. I hold him close and kiss the matted hair on his head. He smells like sweat and dust.
“You have to come back this time,” he says in a soft voice.
“I’ll see you soon,” I murmur.
He runs back to the factory, and a gaping, black hole swallows him.
6
The wind has kicked up, and it’s cold. The trees sway, their branches dipping low, then rising. We run in silence along the base of the mountain. An undercurrent of fear drives us forward. Fear that we won’t be fast enough. Fear that too many will die before we reach them. All the sounds that hit my ears transform before I can reason them out; a creature cries into the night, and I feel it in my chest.
Norma hides somewhere on the other side of this mountain, hidden in the slopes of the forest. I can’t picture that cabin where she’s resting—I’ve never seen it. But her face remains in my thoughts as we run.
Cash leads, then Blake, me, and Ian. Several yards back, three Southern soldiers match our pace: a short, stocky man and two women, all stone-faced, weapons drawn. Their names a
re Christopher, Lina, and Dani.
Inside the fence, teams move through the maze of brick buildings, preparing to detonate explosives and send the valley into chaos long enough to evacuate Workers. We’ll lead them to hiding once they reach the fence.
In my mind, I see my mother. When the Watcher dragged her away, she used her whole body, all her muscles, trying to break free. That’s how I feel now…like I’m straining, but I can’t reach the thing I want no matter how far my fingers stretch.
We stop after thirty minutes of running and drag in long breaths. The cold air burns going in.
“We’ll have to scatter them,” Cash says quietly. We all move closer to hear. “There are thick evergreens on this mountain. They’ll block some of the wind. It’ll be cold, but there won’t be many Watchers patrolling once things get started. They’ll be safe for a time.”
“They won’t last long without heat,” Blake says.
“They won’t last long in their towers,” Ian counters. “The Council won’t relent now that we know the threat. They will kill them.” Anger flashes in his eyes. “The one thing we can depend on is that they’re true to their word.”
Cash and Ian share a hard look. Lina takes a sudden step forward.
“What kind of people are we talking about here? They’d kill off all these innocents just to salvage a victory?”
“They can’t be reasoned with,” Cash answers. “Greed drives them. Nothing else.”
Dani shakes her head, confused. “It couldn’t have always been that way. Certainly one of them, at some point, spoke against it.”
Cash drops to a knee, leveling his eyes with a break in the trees that allows a view of the factories. “This valley was born from greed. And it grew worse with each generation.”
“Until you,” I say. His eyes find mine.
“They took advantage of desperate people,” he continues to the group. “Used their need as leverage to trap them. This valley only exists this way because the leaders of this nation acted on an evil impulse. They’re operating well beyond the desire for redemption now.”
Remnant (The Slave Series Book 3) Page 2