Liberty's Hope (Perseverance Book 2)

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Liberty's Hope (Perseverance Book 2) Page 11

by Amanda Washington


  “Wow,” Braden said. “That’s fast.”

  “Not just fast, it was insane. Might as well call it what it is.”

  I never understood how my level-headed, hardworking momma had been wild and crazy enough to marry a man she’d only known for a day. A man who would be shipping out a couple of days after they married. The first time I heard my parents’ story I vowed to stay far away from soldiers, promising I would never find myself married, knocked-up, and abandoned by some smooth-talker in a uniform.

  But now there’s Connor, a little voice in the back of my head whispered. I shook it off and tried not to think about the way my stomach flipped at his name. Connor was even worse than a soldier; he was some sort of Special Forces maniac.

  Braden chuckled. “So it didn’t work out?”

  I wondered what the kid read in my expression. Feeling confused and flustered, I shook my head. “The weird thing is that it worked out just fine. The next day they got a marriage license, and talked the deputy clerk into waiving the three-day waiting period. Then my dad’s chaplain married them. They spent two days together, and then dad shipped out.”

  No matter how many times I told the story, it still made me feel hollow. I had been robbed of the father I’d so desperately wanted, and had spent my entire childhood recreating him based upon Momma’s limited description. He stood tall and proud, with a handsome face and a muscular build. He laughed easily and had dreams of a big family. But the thing about him that I’d grown the most familiar with, was his absence. It left a gigantic hole in my heart that would never be filled.

  Braden opened his mouth to say something, but I held up a finger to silence him before he could ask.

  “He never came back. There was some sort of mechanical explosion when he was working on the ship. They said he died instantly.”

  Braden frowned. “I’m sorry.”

  I tried to smile, but couldn’t muster up the pretense.

  “That really sucks,” he said. “Sounds like he would have made a good dad.”

  I shrugged. “Who knows? I used to wonder what it would have been like, had my dad made it home. He could have taken me to father-daughter dances and threatened my dates with a rifle and all that great daddy stuff my friend Michelle complained about.”

  Braden watched me, and I felt like I needed to say more.

  “I was angry for a long time. It’s hard to move on with your life when all you can seem to focus on is what you don’t have. You know?”

  He nodded.

  I let silence linger between us for a few moments, wondering if he’d open up and share a little of his story. He remained silent, so I continued. “I had to learn that I’m responsible for my own happiness. Out of pain and anger I did a lot of stupid stuff, and I had to learn to forgive myself just like I forgave my dad. I realized I have a destiny—a purpose to fulfill—and I can’t accomplish it while I’m dragging me feet through the past.”

  “What destiny?” he asked. “What’s your purpose?”

  “That’s a very good question, but I’m not prepared to answer it at—,” I glanced at my watch, “three thirty-six in the morning with no coffee in my system. Besides, I know my purpose. I’m curious as to what you think your purpose is.”

  He shrugged and looked away. “There you go again.”

  I giggled. “Yep. Every one of us has a purpose, Brae. The soldiers, Boom, Ashley, Kylee, me and even you. You have a destiny, kid.”

  “Liberty? Braden?” Boom stepped into the tent. “I thought I heard your voices. What are you two doing awake at this hour?”

  I waved to Boom. “We couldn’t sleep so we’re having long, meaningful conversations about our pasts and destinies.”

  Boom chuckled. “Well, amidst your nightly musings, you haven’t run across Connor, have you? I left him in the back wing of this tent late last night, and no one has seen him since.”

  Braden and I both turned toward the back of the tent. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched the flap, imagining Connor leaning against it, eavesdropping on our conversation.

  No. That’s ridiculous. Why would he do that? Please don’t be in there, Con.

  The flap parted and Connor peeked out. “Hey Boom, you looking for me?”

  My jaw dropped. I felt it practically unhinge from the rest of my face, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t believe he’d been listening in on my private conversation with Braden. “You were in there? The whole time?”

  “Not sure what you mean by the whole time.” Connor stretched, trying to look nonchalant and relaxed, but I wouldn’t buy his act for a penny. “I was asleep for a while. Passed out in the chair. Woke up to some chatter, and then heard Boom asking for me.”

  I stepped closer as my face warmed. “Some chatter? How much chatter did you hear?” I used my fingers to gesture quotation marks at the word “chatter.”

  “Uh…” He shook his head like he was confused. “What do you mean, exactly?”

  Hurt and disappointed, yet too exhausted to strangle him, I sighed. “Never mind. I have to go check on Ashley. I’ll catch up with you later, Braden. Thanks for the talk.” I patted Braden on the shoulder and turned to leave.

  “Lib, wait,” Connor called out.

  I ignored him and fled from the tent.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Liberty

  HUMILIATED BY CONNOR once again, I escaped from the main tent and sought the comfort found in Ashley’s soft snore. It filled the tent with a sense of normalcy as I slid back into my sleeping bag and closed my eyes, trying to forget the whole experience in the main tent.

  This is exactly why I don’t do mornings. Nothing good comes of getting up while it’s still dark.

  Deep down, I knew my anger at Connor’s presence in the main tent was a bit extreme. After all, it wasn’t like I’d checked whether or not the tent was empty before I decided to spill my life story to Braden. And, if I’d paused long enough to give him the benefit of the doubt—which I’d promised to do—I had to believe he told the truth and had actually been asleep in there. So when he’d heard us, what did I expect him to do? Jump out and reveal himself and beg us not to say more? Would I have honestly been less pissed off?

  But eavesdropping on me? Really, Connor?

  I beat the back of my head on the ground a few times.

  What if he’s figured it out? Ugh. So embarrassing! I’m gonna have to kill him. Or at least maim him.

  My eyelids drifted shut, and I realized that I was too tired to be enraged about the situation. Vowing to be more ticked off as soon as I had the energy, I relaxed against my pillow and let myself drift off to sleep.

  * * *

  The wooden door was back, looming before me. Beckoning to me. I drifted toward it while the broken stone path beneath my feet disappeared into mist. As I neared the door, it swung open.

  As before, the stench of rot smacked into me. It assaulted my nose, making me want to turn away, but I couldn’t. Past the door jamb, the floor glistened. Remembering that I’d slipped on it before, I proceeded with caution, keeping my hands on the wall as I slid my feet across the slippery floor. The instant I crossed over the threshold, the door slammed shut. I reached for it, but everything disappeared. Suddenly, I stood in the middle of a grassy meadow. Taking a deep breath through my nose, I smelled grass and pine, but beneath it all, the stench of rot lingered. Wondering if the stink came from me, I sniffed my clothes. Nope, not me.

  There was something else, though—a fragrance I’d avoided for years. At my feet, a giant wine-colored rose bloomed, beautiful and sorrowful. I backed away from it. The meadow shifted, and I found myself standing beside my mother on a beach. We were barefoot. The wet sand felt cool against my feet. Seagulls played in the overcast sky above us.

  “Libby,” Momma said.

  Startled by the sudden sound, I looked up. “Yes, Momma?”

  “It’s time to say goodbye.”

  I could feel her sorrow, but couldn’t understand it. She separated one red rose
from the dozen in the crook of her arm. When the tide rushed in, devouring the sand and dampening our feet, she released the rose. The tide held the flower like a mother cradling a new baby. It swayed back and forth, and then carried the rose out to sea.

  “Your father’s out there somewhere. Tell him goodbye.” She handed me a rose.

  I stared at the flower, wondering how it could get a message to the man I’d never met. And why did goodbye have to be the message? There were so many other things I wanted to tell him, but the soft petals seemed to steal my thoughts, reminding me that my dad was a stranger. I had nothing to say to him. In one swift motion, I plucked the petals from the stem and released them into the wind. They swirled around me, becoming a whirlpool of loss and sorrow.

  The ocean and my mother faded away and I found myself back in the meadow, now surrounded by hundreds of wine-colored roses. I hated the flowers. Not for what they were, but for what they signified: death. Their sweet fragrance overwhelmed me until I felt like I couldn’t breathe through it. Gagging on the scent, I doubled over, heaving.

  Juvenile laughter filled the meadow, accompanied by a thick blanket of fog that covered the wretched roses and neutralized their stench. Able to breathe once again, I stood. Something tugged on my shirt, demanding my attention. When I looked down, a little blonde girl smiled up at me with dimples so deep she could store loose change in them.

  I smiled back at her. “Hi there. What’s your name?”

  “I can’t tell that to strangers.” She put her hand on her hip and studied me, as if trying to decide whether or not I qualified as strange.

  “That is very wise.” I crouched down to get eye level with her. “What can we talk about, then?”

  “I’m going to be an astronaut when I grow up. What will you be?”

  I scrunched up my brow and tried to remember my childhood career choice. “Um… a firewoman.”

  She giggled. “I used to want to be a firewoman, but now that I’m older I want to walk on the moon.” She held out her arms and started spinning in circles.

  The landscape shifted, taking me to a forest setting. The sky grew dark and eerie, and the beautiful little girl I’d just seen lay at my feet. Her cheeks barely dented by ghosts of her dimples as her eyes stared vacantly at the sky.

  “No!”

  I bent down and shook her shoulders, but she didn’t respond. I felt for a pulse, but her heart didn’t beat.

  “No, no, no.”

  I backed up. Another child lay to her right; a boy with messy red hair and chubby cheeks crowded with freckles. I checked his pulse. Dead. Beside him lay a caramel-skinned boy with curly, dark hair. Dead. Then a pale brunette. Also dead. I spun around and saw them everywhere. All dead. Despair burned my eyes as I counted the bodies. Eighty-three dead children. My heart broke for each sweet, innocent face.

  Major Thompson’s creepy laughter echoed throughout the valley.

  * * *

  The nightmare released me. I stared at the ceiling of the tent, shaking. So much death. They were all gone.

  ‘Not yet.’

  The “call” caught me off guard as it whispered into my heart and my spirit.

  ‘Not yet.’ This time the words came understanding. It swept away every web of doubt that netted my heart and filled me with anticipation for the future.

  The kids aren’t dead yet. There’s still hope.

  Peace and joy refreshed my weary spirit, and I leapt from my sleeping bag.

  Somewhere out there is a little blonde girl with huge dimples, and there’s still time to save her!

  I don’t know how I knew, but I did. Maybe I was going crazy? I didn’t care. Desperate to share the joy I felt with someone, I unzipped the tent flap and peered out into the day. The sky was laden with heavy, ominous clouds, and soldiers were taking down the main tent. Curious, I slipped out of the tent to snoop.

  I found Jeff stuffing medical supplies into a box beside Osberg’s tent. I waved and wished him a good morning.

  “Hey there,” Jeff replied with a nod and a brief smile.

  “What’s going on here?” I asked. Before he could answer, I added, “You really didn’t want that promotion, huh? Now you’re so desperate to get demoted that you’re stealing medical equipment? I see how it is.”

  “Heh. I haven’t gotten that desperate yet, but thanks for the idea. Haven’t you heard? We’re striking camp.”

  “Striking?” I asked. “I’ll draw up the picket signs. What are you guys going for? Raises? Shorter hours? Better medical benefits?”

  “Wow, you’re in rare form today. What has you in such a good mood?”

  Too excited to keep my news to myself, I leaned closer to Jeff and said, “There’s still time!”

  Jeff’s forehead scrunched up. “Uh, for what?”

  I laughed, feeling giddy and a little unbalanced. “We haven’t lost yet. There is still time, and there is still hope.”

  As he lifted the box he’d just filled, I trapped his arms in a sideways hug and squeezed. Jeff almost dropped the box, and I laughed again. He tried to scowl at me, but I could tell he wasn’t too upset by the way his frown kept waggling.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Scouts found a shallow place to cross the river, but Boom wants us on the other side of it before the rain hits.” He looked up at the darkening sky.

  I followed his gaze. “Yikes. Looks pretty ominous. Suppose we better hurry then.”

  “Once I’m done here, want me to help help you tear down your tent?” he offered.

  “No need,” Connor said, appearing from the mists, or whatever the heck Special Forces soldiers traveled silently through so they could scare the crap out of people.

  I jumped, and my heart went through my chest. Seemingly oblivious to my surprise, he sidled up to me and rested a hand on my arm. I pulled away since I was still a little miffed at him.

  Connor didn’t react to my frosty reception. Instead, he turned toward Jeff and explained, “I already took it down.”

  “Why?” I crossed my arms. “I can take down my own tent. Don’t you have bigger duties to tend to? Someone to spy on, maybe?”

  “Ashley asked me to show her how.” He shrugged, looking all nonchalant and unbothered. “We must have just missed you.”

  There was nothing I could say to that. What sort of monster would complain about a man teaching his kid how to strike a tent? “Well, is there something you need?”

  “Yes, actually. We’re going to have to transport Noke and Osberg. Magee is asking for your help.”

  That’s when I remembered that I was supposed to hit Magee up for training. I said goodbye to Jeff and headed for the medic’s tent.

  “You’re going the wrong way,” Connor said from behind me. “Magee is by Noke’s, preparing a gurney.”

  Without replying, I turned my steps. Connor lengthened his strides and caught up with me. Then he passed me and stopped directly in my path. When I tried to get around him he grabbed my arm.

  “Would you please just listen to me?” he asked.

  I stopped walking and crossed my arms.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Really?” I asked. “Then why did you listen in on my private conversation?”

  “I don’t know.” Connor shrugged. “I honestly didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t see a way out of it. And, I was curious.”

  “Curious? Connor, that information was secret. I didn’t even want to tell the kid, but I felt like I had to for some reason. And you listened in because you were curious?” My cheeks warmed.

  Connor’s hands flung up in surrender. “Yes. Are you kidding me? Of course I’m curious enough to listen. You throw me the occasional bread crumb about yourself and expect me to be satisfied. I’m not. I want to know more. I want to know everything.”

  Well, that made me feel like a heel. I lowered my gaze. “Sorry. I know I have issues. I’m trying.”

  He stepped closer and put his hands on my shoulders, pulling my attention
back onto him. “I’m not going to hurt you. Ever. I love you, Libby.” His dark eyes intensified and focused on me. He raked a hand through his hair and looked away.

  A soldier approached and waited for Connor to address him.

  “I gotta get back to work, but promise me we’ll talk about this later?”

  I nodded.

  Connor thanked me and turned to speak with the soldier.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Connor

  BOOM WAS WAITING for Connor by the horses. The two of them walked the camp, hurrying along the progress of the soldiers, securing loads, and worrying about the ever-darkening clouds. Within the hour, Noke and Osberg were strapped into their gurneys and the camp was ready to move. Connor saddled the sorrel mare for Liberty and Ashley to share, but Liberty helped Ashley up and refused to climb up behind her. She hoisted Kylee up in her spot.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Connor asked, pulling her aside.

  “I can’t ride the horse. I promised Magee I’d help carry Osberg.”

  “We have soldiers for that.”

  “Connor, I can’t shoot. It’s not fair for me to make one of the soldiers carry Osberg’s gurney so I can sit on my butt and do nothing.”

  “You won’t be sitting on your butt and doing nothing. You’ll be keeping Ashley safe.”

  Liberty nodded. “Yep. I’ll be keeping her safe by helping with the gurney so we have one more gun ready to defend the platoon.”

  “Libby, we are heading back to Fort Lewis. Most of our soldiers are still untrained, and the Progression is probably watching our every move now. There’s no telling what we’ll come across. This situation has the potential to get very deadly, very fast.”

  “I’m waiting for the part where you explain how that’s different from every other day of the past several months.”

  Connor wasn’t getting anywhere, so he switched tactics. “I can’t believe you put Kylee on the horse behind Ash.”

  “Why not? She’s a young girl too. She’ll keep Ash company.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “What if she takes off with Ash?”

  “And leaves her brother behind? Do you really think she’d do that?” Liberty raised an eyebrow in question.

 

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