No Return (The Internal Defense Series)

by Zoe Cannon

  Because of her.

  Heather’s grin melted like wax as she caught a glimpse of Becca’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  “How many people are you planning to frame so you can save me?” Bodies slumped against a concrete wall… For her. To save her life. “How many people are going to die?”

  Heather shrugged. “They would have been arrested eventually anyway. They’re dissidents. We got all the names from Internal files.”

  Right. Just dissidents. Their lives don’t matter. She stared at her hands so she wouldn’t have to look at Heather. Stared at the claws her fingers had formed, white with strain, tight enough to leave bruises along her legs. “How. Many. People?”

  “I…” Heather’s voice trembled. “I saved you.”

  “Like this?” Her voice rose. Roughened. “Did you think I wanted this?”

  Heather curled in on herself, as if Becca’s words had been a physical blow. “I just wanted to save you.”

  Becca took a breath. And another. And another. It didn’t help. “Do you remember why I joined the resistance? Why I became a dissident in the first place?”

  “It was because of my parents. Because your mother killed them.”

  “It was because I found out what my mom really did. Torturing false confessions from prisoners. Murdering people who never posed any kind of threat. Everything you’re doing now to save me.”

  “But sometimes you have to.” Heather lifted her head, her brow crinkling. “Even dissidents like you know that. Didn’t you torture someone to save the resistance?”

  “Almost. But I didn’t do it. Because it would have gone against everything the resistance stood for. I decided it would be better for us to die than to pay that cost for our lives.” That night in the snow came back to her. That moment of calm conviction. “Just like I’d rather die than pay this cost for mine.”

  “I had to do it,” said Heather. “It was worth the sacrifice. It was you or them.”

  Had Heather heard a word she had said? “You’re not listening.”

  “I lost my parents to this pointless fight of yours.” Heather’s voice, thick with tears and determination, grew to fill the space. Her eyes shone with a conviction that echoed what Becca had felt in the clearing that night. “I couldn’t lose you too. I couldn’t live with that.”

  “This isn’t about you!” The shout burst from Becca’s chest, a roar of anger that left her breathless.

  Heather shrank back, already shaking her head. “What are you talking about? It’s about you. It’s about saving you.”

  A door creaked. Micah’s voice floated down the hall. “Becca? Is everything all right?”

  “It’s fine,” Becca called back. “I’m fine.” She didn’t sound fine, and she knew it. But Micah didn’t challenge her. The door creaked again, and closed with a soft thump.

  She turned back to Heather, who had already started to open her mouth to speak. “Listen to yourself,” she said before Heather’s protests could make it past her lips. “It’s never been about helping me. It’s about how you don’t want to lose me.”

  Heather kept shaking her head, as if the gesture alone could make Becca take back what she had said. “I only wanted to help you.”

  “You wanted to spare yourself the grief.” Becca spat the words. “And so you compromised everything I believe in—everything I’m fighting for—to give me something I never wanted. You said I didn’t have the right to stop you from risking your life. What gave you the right to do this?”

  Heather crumpled down around her lap as her tears began to flow. “I… I wanted…”

  “What gave you the right?” Becca demanded. Anger burned through her, hot and helpless. Heather cringed away. Becca kept going. “What gave you the right to trade their lives for mine?” Her voice rose to a shout. “What gave you the right to make that choice for me?”

  Choice.

  Her rage shut off like she had flipped a switch, leaving her empty and shaking. The memory of another night in the clearing filled her senses, vivid enough for her to feel the cold wind against her skin.

  She made a choice. Just like—

  “You’re right.” Heather’s small voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Becca reached out to Heather. Heather flinched away. A hard knot of shame formed in Becca’s stomach. “I’m sorry.”

  Heather shook her head. “You’re right. It was never about what you wanted. You told me from the start that you were willing to die. I was the one who couldn’t accept it. So I…” She quivered like a bedraggled cat. “And now you hate me.”

  “You made a choice.” Becca could almost see Kara in front of her again as she spoke. “It’s what people like us do.”

  “I’m not like—”

  Becca cut off Heather’s protest. “I don’t mean dissidents. I mean people who fight for what they believe. You’ve done that for three years. You believe in helping other children of dissidents, and you’ve risked your life again and again to do it.” While I tried to stop you. I didn’t see. I didn’t understand. “And you believe in me. You believe in our friendship, even though you hate the cause I’ve chosen.”

  “I screwed it all up.”

  “Sometimes that’s what happens,” said Becca. “Sometimes we try to do the right thing, and we get people killed instead. And sometimes we accept the cost, because we believe in something enough to sacrifice for it, even when that sacrifice means other people die.” A face flashed into her mind. But not Ryann’s face, like she expected. Not the faces of everyone she had lost in the aftermath of the liberation. An older memory than that. An older conversation. We’re considering you for a special assignment…

  One person had died. A thousand had lived. An easy choice.

  “Sometimes we accept the cost, and it keeps us awake at night anyway.”

  An easy choice.

  How long had she been telling herself that?

  Had she ever believed it?

  “But we live with it. And we keep fighting. Because that’s the only thing we can do.”

  We live with it. We let go.

  “And when the choice isn’t ours to make, we accept that too. Even if it means letting someone die.”

  Because in the end, the decision—like the sacrifice—hadn’t belonged to her.

  She had asked a question. She had made an offer. The girl had done the rest. Not because Becca had forced her into it, but because she, like Becca, was willing to sacrifice for what she believed in. Because she had cared more about saving the others than about her own—

  Oh.

  It hit her like a bullet, quick and final. Simple.

  She rocked back.

  “Becca?”

  Let go.

  She had thought she knew what it meant. She had accepted the choice the others had made; she had accepted that they would die.

  But they weren’t the ones she needed to let go after all.

  “Becca? Are you okay?”

  An easy choice.

  Becca found her voice. “Do you still want to help me?”

  The ghost of a smile broke through Heather’s tears. “Do you even need to ask?”

  Becca didn’t return the smile. “Are you willing to do what I need you to do, no matter how hard it is?”

  When Heather met Becca’s eyes, she looked like she had aged a lifetime. “Whatever it takes.”

  Becca took a deep breath. “You’re going to give them the resistance leader,” she said. “Just like you planned.” She paused. “You’re going to turn me in.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Why are we here?” asked Jared.

  He stood against the far wall of Becca’s living room with his arms crossed in front of his chest. From the couch, Heather watched him skittishly, tensing whenever he shifted. Becca sat beside Heather, her hand clasped in Micah’s. She wondered if he could feel her shaking.

  I can’t do this.

  The resistance leader could have done it. But she wasn’t that person anym
ore—if she ever had been. Her illusion of becoming the leader they needed, of banishing her former self, had shattered hours earlier in Micah’s arms. She was just Becca, scared and weak and human.

  I can’t do this.

  But I have to.

  She tightened her hand around Micah’s. “Tomorrow,” she said, “I’m going to be arrested.”

  Beside her, she felt Micah flinch. She heard him force himself to breathe, slow and even.

  The crags on Jared’s face deepened. “Then that’s how long we have. Thank you for telling us.” He gave her a solemn nod. “I’ll make my preparations.”

  “No,” said Becca. “I’m going to be arrested… but I’ll be the only one. You—all of you—” she looked around the room, resting her gaze on each of the others in turn “—are going to rebuild the resistance.”

  Heather squirmed in her seat. “Wait… you didn’t say anything about helping rebuild the resistance. I thought all I had to do was—”

  “I won’t ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” Becca promised. “All I need from you is what we already talked about.”

  A little of the unease left Heather’s face, but not all. “You’re really sure this is what you want?”

  She couldn’t manufacture confidence anymore. Couldn’t fight back her fear. Couldn’t keep the tremor out of her voice as she answered. “I’m sure.”

  “You need to stop, Becca,” said Micah, his voice as gentle as his hand on hers. “It’s over, remember? It’s over.”

  “It’s not over. Not anymore.” Becca took a deep breath. Swallowed the fear she couldn’t suppress. “Investigation wants to prove they can find the resistance leader before Processing can. They want to bring down the entire resistance with a single arrest. And I’m going to give them exactly what they want.”

  Jared’s gaze was inscrutable, Heather’s filled with grief, Micah’s with confusion. None of them spoke.

  “Tomorrow Investigation will announce that they’ve found the leader of the group responsible for the liberation,” Becca continued. “Me. They’ll have me arrested. They’ll send me to 117 for interrogation.” There suddenly wasn’t enough air in her lungs. Keep going. “They’ve already written a confession for me—one that will make them look good and convince everyone else that the threat is over. The interrogator will be in on it. Once I’ve confessed, Internal won’t have any reason to interrogate the others. You’ll all be safe. Our networks—what’s left of them—will be safe.”

  The room went still as the others took in what she had said.

  Micah’s hand convulsed around hers. “You’re going to give yourself to them.”

  She nodded. “I’m going to make sure the resistance survives.”

  No strength in her voice. No certainty. Just a quiet statement of fact.

  I will protect them.

  One last time, she would protect them.

  One last time, she would do what was necessary.

  Jared inclined his head in silent respect. But a second later, his brows drew inward. “You’re saying Investigation will know some of us escaped arrest.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Nobody else will. And Investigation won’t look any harder for you than they would for any other dissidents. They might give themselves away otherwise.”

  Jared’s frown didn’t fade. “I find it hard to believe they would knowingly allow dissidents to go free.”

  “They care more about their reputation than about stopping you,” Heather put in, still looking at Jared like he might bite. “They made sure I knew their priorities when they gave me this assignment.”

  Jared turned to Becca. “Can she be trusted?”

  “The fact that she’s sitting in this room right now shows how much I trust her,” Becca answered.

  “And you’re sure she can read the situation accurately?”

  Once, she would have said no. Once she would have cringed at the thought of trusting something this crucial to Heather—helpless Heather, oblivious Heather, Heather who didn’t understand. She knew better now. “She’s aware of how important this is. She wouldn’t say it unless she was sure.”

  Jared nodded—first to Becca, then to Heather. “That’s enough for me.”

  Hesitantly, Heather returned the nod. “I, um.” She shifted under Jared’s gaze. “I’m not a… you know. I’m not one of you. But Becca means a lot to me, and this is what she chose. I won’t let anything go wrong.” She bit her lip as she turned to Becca. “As long as you’re sure you can—”

  Becca caught Heather’s eye. She gave her head a slight shake. Heather stopped talking.

  But Micah had caught the look. “As long as you can what?”

  “It’s not important,” said Becca. “You know everything you need to know.”

  “There’s something you’re not saying,” Micah pressed. “I could hear it in your voice from the beginning. And whatever it is, it scares you.” He shook his head. “No—it terrifies you.”

  Why had she thought she could hide it from Micah? Why, when Micah always saw through her? “Enforcement is coming for me tomorrow. Of course I’m afraid.”

  “You’ve been expecting that for years,” said Micah. “I know how you sound when you talk about it. I know how you look when you’re facing death. This is different.” He lowered his voice. “What don’t you want to tell me?”

  “It won’t affect the plan. I can do it.” I can’t. “I will.”

  “We’re in this together, Becca. All of us. If it affects you, it affects us. And whatever it is, you shouldn’t have to face it alone.”

  He wasn’t going to drop it. And they couldn’t afford to waste any time. If she told him, if she got it over with, maybe they could move on. “The interrogation.” She spoke through a suddenly-dry mouth. “If I tell them what they want to know too easily, no one will believe it. The interrogator will know about Investigation’s plan, but he’s not the only one who matters. I work in 117—I know how they do things. For an interrogation this important, the people up in interrogation analysis will go over every frame of the recording to make sure nothing is out of place.” Her hand had gone cold in Micah’s. “The interrogation needs to look real. And it needs to last long enough—” Breathe. Keep going. “It needs to last long enough for them to believe I’ve given them everything.”

  “You have to let them torture you,” said Micah slowly. “You have to let it get bad enough that they believe what you tell them.”

  Becca nodded. “And not give anything away until the right time.”

  “For hours.” A shudder broke through Micah’s calm. He gripped her hand hard, like he was afraid she could slip away at any second.

  This time, Becca shook her head. “For days.”

  “No.” Micah jerked his hand from hers as he stood. “You’re not doing this for me. I can accept my death—but I can’t accept surviving if this is the price. I’m sure any of your people would say the same.” He looked to Jared for confirmation.

  Jared nodded. “None of us would ever ask this of you.”

  “But it’s not about you,” said Becca. “Any of you. If your lives were the only thing at stake, I would let you make that choice. I wouldn’t have the right to make it for you.” She inclined her head toward Heather. “I understand that now, even if I didn’t before.”

  “You’re doing this to save us,” said Micah. “You said so yourself.”

  “I’m doing this to save the resistance,” Becca corrected. “The resistance isn’t about your lives. It isn’t about mine. It’s about standing up to Internal when no one else will. It’s about protecting the people whose only crime is questioning the regime. It’s about fighting for what we believe in even though we know what it will cost us.”

  Heather squirmed in discomfort again at the references to working against the regime. But she didn’t argue. No one did.

  “That’s why I’m doing this,” Becca continued. “Because the resistance needs to survive. Because somebody needs to kee
p fighting. When I first joined the resistance, it was because I thought that fight was worth any price. That hasn’t changed.” She met Jared’s eyes. Heather’s. Micah’s. “You’re each fighting for different things. But I know you all feel the same way.”

  Jared was the first to nod.

  Then Micah, as he closed his eyes and let out a long exhale.

  Then Heather, clenching her teeth to hold back tears.

  “Before, I would have promised you we’d make it through this,” said Becca. “I can’t do that now. This is going to take everything I have, and maybe more. And not just me—I’m going to ask more from each of you now than I ever have. If any of you want to walk away, I won’t stop you. But I’ve made my choice. Because if I don’t do this, we lose the resistance.”

  A sad smile crossed Micah’s lips as he regarded her. “I called you brave before,” he said. “I had no idea.” His smile faded into an expression that almost matched his earlier serenity. Not quite, but almost. “I’ll do anything you need. You only have to ask.”

  “You already know what I’m willing to give,” said Jared.

  “I know,” said Becca. “And that’s why I need you to rebuild the resistance. You’ll be the only core member left—the only one who knows our codes, our networks, how we operate. I’ll give you information on how to reach Meri’s contacts, and mine, but I don’t know how to find Sean’s, or Alia’s, or Peter’s. You’ll need to track them down on your own. And you’ll need to start recruiting.”

  “I’ll make the resistance strong again,” Jared promised.

  “I know you will.” Becca hesitated. “But I also need something else from you.”

  Jared waited.

  “It won’t be enough for Internal to think they’ve found the resistance leader,” she said. “They need to believe they’ve wiped out the entire resistance. And for that…” Another hesitation, longer this time. She tried to force the words out, but her lips stayed stubbornly shut.

  Whatever it takes, she reminded herself.

  And, You don’t have the right to protect them. This choice belongs to them.

  “For that,” she said, “I need names. Talk to everyone you can. Your contacts. Mine. Meri’s. Find me volunteers—people willing to…” She only faltered a little. “To have me name them in my interrogation. Bring me a list by tonight.”