by Alexa Riley
From what the reports say, The Regime is still trying to locate the bride and groom. And oddly enough, the wedding musicians are missing. No one has been able to locate them yet, and I cling to the hope that they are with Ryan and they’re all okay.
The media begins to refer to it as the Sunrise Bombing, and as days pass afterward I hear nothing. I keep my head down at work and try to stay busy, but I worry about Ryan every moment. I try to send a coded note to the other side in the book we use to pass messages back and forth, but nothing comes back.
The Regime reports catching the nurse and the man who had created the diversion, but so far nobody has seen any evidence that this is true. It is typical for them to make up a lie, only this time, fewer believe it. It’s obvious they would have made a big display if they had caught someone.
I spend days at work poring over the footage from the news and the reports in the newspapers. Anything I can get my hands on. But there are no photos of the bride or of her accomplice.
Just like the leaders had given the public no real evidence that they had captured Insurgent Number One, who had shot and killed Brad Chalmers. Allegedly.
When a week passes I start to lose hope, and I think about quitting my job. I could go and look for Ryan. I know where all the tunnels are. At any moment, I could climb into one of them and look for him. But then I pull out his note and read over the simple words and I go back to work and try to keep my faith in him. In us.
Ryan is it for me. I have to believe that he will come back, because the alternative is too much to bear. I can’t think about something happening to him, or him being caught. It’s too painful to think that I might never again see the man I’ve fallen in love with. It was only a few short hours that we had together, but they were the best in my life. I sometimes think for a moment I made it all up in my mind, but then when I look at the note, I know it’s real. What we had was real.
Chapter Eight
Naomi
I’m going through the motions at work, but nothing feels the same anymore. My heart still aches for Ryan, and worry has taken hold. I can’t stop the IFs that play out in my head day and night. I can’t push away the thoughts of what I could have done differently.
Every day I try to get lost in work. I sort through the bin of returned children’s books from the other side, and my coworker makes snide remarks about the grubby little hands of the poor kids. I’m shaking my head and placing books on the wheeled cart when I spot the cover of our secret exchange book. I look around for spying eyes, then open it up and out falls an envelope. Inside I find a yellow sticky note and a couple of magazine pages stapled together. I read the note and my heart pounds in my chest.
It’s almost time, but I need your help.
Please copy and distribute any way you can.
Keep it anonymous and keep yourself safe.
I’m coming for you.
It’s not signed, but the handwriting is so familiar to me it might as well be my own. For the first time in the past few weeks a spark of true hope lights in my chest. It’s not forced and it’s not one I have to pretend I feel. It’s Ryan and he’s okay.
I look over what he sent. It’s only four pages. Articles and headlines and photo captions are all written in marker. Nothing is typed. This handwriting is different from the note that was sent. This isn’t Ryan’s work, but it looks familiar, too.
The first article is titled “Chief of Staff and Top Regime Enforcer Is Alive.” Beside the article is a recent photo of Brad Chalmers. He looks the same only a bit shaggier. He has a beard and a slightly more weather-worn face of someone who spends most of his days outdoors. And he has his arm around Insurgent Number One.
Holy shit.
I stuff the magazine into my bag and then go down to my office. Something is pinging my memory and I recall getting stacks of boxes from the high school and something from the journalism departments. A few odd things had sneaked in. Or maybe they had been deliberately added to the boxes.
When I get to the archives, I find the dusty corner where the files of old high school newspapers are located. I open one ancient metal filing cabinet, and at first find nothing but official school newspapers. I go through a few more drawers until I find it. I pull out a photocopy of a handwritten newsletter. There’s nothing rebellious about it. It’s mostly articles about music, concert reviews and fashion of the time. It’s dated October 1989. But then there’s a small hand-drawn box in the bottom corner that reads The Wall Is Coming Down! Something about this stirs me, and I rush through the box and find another issue. This one is from November. Berlin Wall Falls, We Told You Fuckers. There’s a photo of the author. Same handwriting, and she looks strikingly like Insurgent Number One.
But this can’t be possible. This was written by a girl in high school, more than 50 years ago.
I gather up all I can find of these publications and sit on the cold concrete floor. I read each one cover to cover, and although they’re messy and profane I love them.
I don’t understand what the connection is, but they somehow want me to publish and deliver them. It’s exciting and thrilling, and Ryan wouldn’t have asked me if he didn’t think I could do it. It’s not just for him but for everyone else, too. I’m the only person who works late nights at the library, so I can make all the copies I want. When I get to my office I lay out everything I’ll need and get to work immediately.
That night, when I’m finished making copies, I place them between the pages of the books on the hold shelf. Those are books waiting to be picked up by patrons who have placed them on special order. The one good thing about most of the morons in charge is they don’t understand half of what is being said in most of the books here. They don’t realize that half of the books being held are the sort of propaganda they’re trying to work against.
I go through the hold shelf and tuck the papers between the pages of less than ten percent of the books on hold. It will be enough for now.
I wait two days, and when I don’t hear about any backlash, I think the coast is clear. Either the readers are tossing them in the trash without incident, or they’re reading them. If they were reporting them to the government, the staff would have heard back by now and there would be an internal investigation.
But nothing like that happens, so I decide to push more articles out. I expand the distribution to include the public restrooms, both at the library and at the museum.
The next day another stack of articles is sent to me, and there’s another note from Ryan.
Stay safe.
I’m watching you.
Soon.
I don’t know how much longer I can wait, but to know he’s watching me makes me feel better. He’s with me even when he can’t be, and I know this is all for the greater good.
Chapter Nine
Naomi
Another week passes but this time with no note from Ryan. Worry for him has spiked inside me, and I don’t know how much longer I can wait. I’m helping them on this side of the wall, but soon I’m going to have the urge to go after him, even if he told me to stay put.
I should have said I would marry him. That night we had in the car wasn’t enough, but I knew then that he was my forever. Maybe he could be on this side helping me? Could he come back and sneak around without getting caught?
I sit at my desk and slide off my high heels as I stretch the tops of my toes. I rub them against the plush rug that covers the cold concrete of my basement office floor. Stretching and flexing my feet helps me relax.
“No,” I mumble to myself. He will come for me. And when he does, I know in my heart that we won’t be separated again.
When I go upstairs to take a break, I notice a tiny smudge on the doorframe. As I get closer, I see that the building has been marked with a teeny, tiny black crow, etched in charcoal. I’ve seen it inside the book we use to pass notes, and the sight of it gives me a thrill. I’m not sure what this means, but it is definitely a sign of something. It has to be.
; After I grab a drink, I go to the circulation desk to see the book in the stacks waiting to be checked in. There’s a note inside and my heart beats faster as I read it.
Remember to maintain the sprinklers.
It’s Ryan. I told him about the room with the hidden art and how it was the sprinkler maintenance closet under the stairs. My chest pounds as I grab the note and make my way to the room. Will he be there?
Going to the storage rooms of the art museum and staring at the art isn’t the same as it used to be. Each time I come here, I’m reminded of my phone call from Ryan and the first time I heard his deep voice. Until that morning, my life had been fine. But since then I’ve realized I didn’t know how lonely I truly was. Ryan did that to me.
When I get to the room and sneak to the back, I look around at the art, but there is no magic like before. I turn around but don’t see him, and then I sigh as I sink down on a bench.
“Maybe I’m too late,” I say out loud, expecting no answer in return.
“I’d wait forever for you.”
His strong masculine voice rolls over me, and I jump up as he steps out of the shadows.
I don’t know if I run into his arms or he rushes to me first, but either way, I’m off the ground and in his arms before I can blink.
“Oh God, Naomi,” he says, kissing my hair and then my face when I lean back to look at him. “I missed you so much.” He kisses my lips.
My fingers go to his hair that’s a little longer and shaggier than I recall. I want to ask him a thousand questions, but I want to kiss him, too. Our lips win out, and they do the talking for us.
Chapter Ten
Ryan
Holding her in my arms makes all the pain in my chest go away. I squeeze her until she whines, and then I loosen my grip.
“Sorry,” I say, pressing my forehead to hers. “I just missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too. I’m so sorry, Ryan. I should have gone with you when you asked.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I say, shaking my head. “This was the best way I knew how to keep you safe.”
I kiss her again, and all the emotions I’ve held back come flooding in. My hand moves to her ass, and I grip her as I walk over and press her against the wall. She rubs her body against me, and I can’t wait any longer. I was going to wait and go slow, but I can’t. I’ve been without her for too long. I’ve had eyes on her at all times, but it’s still been agony to be apart. I knew she was mine, and not having her in my arms was pure torture.
Reaching down, I pull my cock free as she tugs her skirt up. Our kisses are frantic and our hands are fast as she pulls her panties to the side and I sink inside her in one hard thrust.
“Fuck,” I grunt as my lips move to her neck. “I love you, Naomi. I should have told you.”
“I love you, too, Ryan,” she breathes as her fingers grip my hair.
Her arms go around my neck and I hold her against the wall as I move in and out of her. Her body remembers my touch, and her legs spread further apart to take me. I’m rougher than I should be, but my need for her is overwhelming my need to slow down.
“It’s too fast,” I say trying to slow down.
“Don’t stop.” She tightens her legs around me and pulls me deeper.
I clench my jaw, trying to keep from cumming. I know I shouldn’t go off inside her. We didn’t use protection last time, but it’s so good I can’t stop.
Her body shutters and her breath catches as she rubs her clit against me. I thrust hard one last time and she cries out my name as she cums on me. I can’t pull out, as she triggers my own orgasm and I hold myself deep inside her warm body.
I kiss her softly as the last of her orgasm rolls over her, and she goes limp in my arms. I turn us around so my back is to the wall and I slide down on the floor with my cock still inside her. She cuddles against my chest, and I kiss the top of her head as I rub her back.
It’s what I’ve been dreaming of since I had to get away, and it’s all I’ve wanted to do every moment I’ve been away from her.
“What happened?” she asks, as her fingers trace my scratchy beard and down my throat.
“I survived the bombing and then was dragged underground. The Insurgence said it wasn’t safe to be seen and we had to stay on the move. They already have a lot of the infrastructure built and they showed me the place where they settled. They have a farm and everything is off the grid.” I kiss her softly. “I missed you every second of every day. I had people who could check on you and make sure you were safe, but it wasn’t enough.”
“So many times I wanted to try and go after you, but I knew I couldn’t.”
“You’ve done so much to help already, and I didn’t want to put a bigger target on your back. Spreading the papers to the people here was a way for you to help and for me to get messages to you. It was the safest thing I could think of, but it may just be the thing that turns this all around.” I rub my nose against hers. “I was counting down the seconds until I could come back and get you.”
“What happens now?” she asks, sitting back and looking at me. The motion causes my cock to sink deeper inside her and for a moment I can’t answer her because I’m too busy enjoying the feeling of her wrapped around me.
“It’s time,” I finally say, running my hands up her thighs.
“For what?”
“The revolution.”
Her eyes widen and she looks around the room. “Now?”
“Soon.”
Her eyebrows pull together as she’s trying to imagine the possibility. “How do you know?”
“Sweet girl, how long have you been supplying The Insurgence with plans and materials?” I ask, and she gives me a shy smile.
“For a while,” she says, giving a little shrug.
“You’ve helped them create tunnels all over the city. The plan is in place. It’s going to happen. People on the other side are mobilizing. Brad is there, helping us strategize. We’ve got regular communication with people like us all over the city. It’s already in motion.”
“It’s really happening?” she asks, and I can see the hesitant excitement in her eyes.
“You have no idea what a big part of this you have been,” I say, kissing her. “You’re the reason this is all happening. People whisper your praises and speak about ‘The Librarian’ with reverence.” I feel pride in my chest that she’s the reason The Insurgence have been able to do so much in such a short amount of time. “You helped free us all.”
“It doesn’t feel real,” she says as she sits up again, and I groan.
I sit up and hold her hips while I move her up and down on my length. I’ve been away from her for too long and we’ve got a lot of making up to do.
“I can’t stop,” I say as I bite her bottom lip and her cheeks flush. “Let me show you how much I love you.”
She holds on to me as I lay her down on the rug and we get lost in our desire.
Chapter Eleven
Naomi
I lie there, never wanting this moment to end. But when Ryan is asleep I sit up and look down at him. He’s darker from the sun, but he’s just as beautiful as the first time I saw him. His wavy hair is brushed away from his face and his full lips are parted as he breathes softly.
I’ve ached for him, and making love was more perfect than I could have imagined. The first time wasn’t just a dream, and here, tucked away in this room, I felt my soul connecting to his.
Reluctantly I reach into my bag for a pen and paper and scribble out a note. I place the note gently in his hand so he’ll see it immediately when he wakes up.
I’ve got to get the last of the plans, but I’ll be back soon.
I can’t risk you being seen.
I love you
N
I knew he wouldn’t agree to let me go once I was back in his arms. I didn’t want him to, but if the wall is falling, then we need every advantage we can get. I’ve got layouts of the Elite military force and lots of others
that could be exactly what we need to protect us. I can’t risk something happening to Ryan and him coming with me would be a disaster. If one camera caught an image of him, I’d never see him again. I can’t take that chance. So, I’m taking the coward’s way out, and I’m sneaking away while he’s asleep. But if I hurry, I can be back before he wakes up.
I get dressed as Ryan sleeps and take one last look at him. I’m so tempted to kiss him, but I remind myself that I’ll be back soon.
When I get to the door I step outside. The museum is now completely dark, and the cold chill makes me immediately regret leaving his warm side. I can wait until the morning. It doesn’t have to be right this second. I scold myself for not thinking this through and turn around to go back to Ryan. But before I can take a step, a black hood covers my head and I’m being dragged away.
I begin to kick and scream, but my sounds are muffled by the cloth, and whoever has me is so much stronger than I am. Fear lances through me and I want to shout for Ryan, but I can’t take that chance. What if whoever has me is looking for him? I can’t risk his safety for my own.
Panic rises, but I push it down and fight back the tears. Now is not the time to lose control. I need to stay as calm as I can and conserve my energy. I think frantically as I’m being carried and an idea comes to me. I pull the brooch off the lapel of my shirt and hold it tight in my hand. I begin to fight as hard as I can, and when I hear the person holding me shout at someone else I drop the little crystal sparrow to the ground. Their shouts muffle the sound of my jewelry hitting the tile of the museum.