Liberty's Hope (Perseverance Book 2)

by Amanda Washington

  Liberty stood in the center of the chaos, her eyes round and terrified. A boy fell into her. She helped him up, and then planted her feet and cupped her hands around her mouth.

  “Stop it!” she screamed. “Enough with the killing. Can we just… just stop for a minute? Please?”

  Eyes swollen and cheeks wet, she wiped her nose and took a deep breath. “If you were so ‘free’ under the Progression, why are you guys acting like this now that the major is dead?” she asked.

  The auditorium remained quiet.

  “This is your first taste of freedom and you’re wasting it!” Liberty pointed at one of the younger soldiers. “You. What’s your name?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She swallowed and wiped her eyes. “Please. How old are you?”

  “His name’s Liam, and he’s twelve,” someone said from the corner.

  Connor searched for the speaker and found a small group of kids doctoring the two soldiers he’d shot. They worked in the limited light from the hall, so Connor picked up the flashlight the major had dropped and walked it over to them. He heard adjustments being made in the shadows and wondered how many guns followed him.

  Liberty watched him with tears glistened in her eyes. Then she turned her attention back to the kids. “When I was twelve I spent every summer day swimming at the public pool with my friends. Do you guys ever get to swim?”

  Silence answered her.

  “Liam, do you know how to swim?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  A strangled noise escaped from her lips. “Have you ever ridden a bike?”

  Again, he shook his head no.

  “Have you ever owned a pet?”

  This time his brow furrowed when he shook his head.

  “Read a book?”

  Kylee stood and crossed her arms. “Get to your point, Liberty.”

  She turned toward Kylee. “They ripped the joys of childhood from you kids and created killers. The major called this freedom, and you guys believed him because it’s all you’ve ever known. But this is not freedom.”

  Kylee snorted. “And you can offer us more? In case you haven’t noticed, you guys are losing. You’re dying. You’re practically extinct.”

  “We’re only dying because they convinced you to kill us. Just know that when we do become extinct, so will freedom. Kids will never again swim or ride bikes or pet puppies or read books or play games. You’ll forever be enslaved to the Progression, going where they say, and killing who they tell you to kill. Do you really want to live like that?”

  Kylee picked up her handgun and aimed it at Liberty. “You just can’t stop, can you? Shut your mouth. Now.”

  “I know you hate me, but please help me rescue these kids. Braden knew the truth. He trusted me and he wanted a better way. Please, just—”

  “I said shut up!” Kylee shouted. She raised her aim above my head and squeezed the trigger, emptying her gun into the wall behind me. Then she threw it on the ground and grabbed the assault rifle from her back. “Yeah, he trusted you, and look how far it got him. You expect us to sign up for that? No thanks. I plan to live.”

  Kylee looked at her brother’s body and shook her head. “Brae asked me not to kill you, so I won’t. Not this time. But, next time I see you, you will pay.”

  She dropped to her knees and kissed her brother on the forehead. Then she stood and projected her voice. “Anyone else sick of listening to this stupid woman who wants to get us all killed?”

  A few soldiers nodded.

  “Good. Let’s get out of here.”

  Kylee marched past Connor with eleven soldiers following her. She swung open the door. Ashley cowered in the corner, and Kylee didn’t even spare the girl a glance as she left.

  Connor retrieved Ashley from the hall and brought her into the auditorium. Along with the remaining soldiers, they stood and silently watched Liberty.

  Silence lingered, adding weight to the situation. Liberty sighed and spun around, looking at the soldiers.

  “I’m not lying,” she whispered. Then she fell to her knees on the floor beside Braden’s corpse. “I’m so sorry, Brae. I thought if I could tell them the truth, they’d understand we’re not the enemy. I wanted the killing to stop. I never thought you’d... I never meant for this to happen.”

  Several soldiers had stayed behind. In the darkness, Connor couldn’t make out the exact number, but it seemed like more stayed than left. They were interested in the offer Liberty had made.

  Connor tugged on Ashley’s hand, and the two joined Liberty. Connor knelt beside her and draped his arm across her shoulders. “Hey. Braden gave up his life because he believed we could make peace. Let’s not let him die in vain.”

  Liberty’s brows furrowed. “Huh?”

  Connor looked up, calling her attention to the soldiers that watched her. When she nearly fell over from the shock, Connor steadied her, and then helped her to her feet.

  Liberty wiped her eyes and looked around. “So many stayed! Does this mean you’ll help us?” she asked the group.

  Nobody replied. Liberty’s shoulders slumped. She lowered her head and Connor started to reach for her. Shuffling noises coming from the shadows made him pause. A single soldier stepped into the light, carrying his semi-automatic. He looked maybe fifteen, and had a mop of red-orange hair and cheeks full of freckles. He marched through the silence, stopping in front of Liberty, where he laid his weapon at her feet.

  “I’ll help,” he said.

  Liberty choked back a sob. She lunged forward, hugging the boy. “Thank you. Thank you so much! What’s your name?”

  “Sergeant Aiden Greenshaw, Ma’am.”

  She smiled through her tears. “It’s so nice to meet you, Aiden.”

  More boys and girls materialized from the shadows. They marched in single file and dropped their weapons on top of Aiden’s. Liberty released the redhead only to hug a blonde girl who dimpled when she smiled. Then a boy with a scar on his cheek. Liberty hugged each, getting their names and thanking them. As they continued to come, Connor took a step back and counted heads.

  Thirty-four plus two wounded.

  Wow.

  Tears rolling down her face, Liberty looked down at Braden. “You were the most courageous person I ever met, and because of that, your death will not be in vain. I promise you that we will take care of your brothers and sisters. Thank you, Brae. Rest in peace.”

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Connor

  CONNOR WHISPERED MY name. Fearing that some new terror was upon us, I opened my eyes.

  He smiled at me. “There you are. Come on. I need to show you something.” He stood and offered me his hand.

  Moonlight filtered in through the windows, highlighting the lumpy sleeping bags covering the floor. The soft snoring of sleeping children sounded like a beautiful symphony to my ears. I glanced around, shocked once again at how many of them there were. Truthfully, I’d been afraid to fall asleep—terrified that they’d all change their minds and sneak off in the night—but there seemed to be even more than I remembered.

  “Is it my imagination, or have they multiplied?” I asked Connor.

  He grinned. “We’ll talk about that later. Come on. We’re gonna miss it.”

  Smiling at his infectious excitement, I gave him my hand and let him pull me to my feet. “What are we going to miss?”

  “Shh. Don’t wake the kids.”

  He tugged me along, through the large living room of his old client’s unfinished house. We crept out the front door and into the yard, which had been overtaken by horses. Beyond the horses, several soldiers kept watch from shallow holes in the ground, scanning the surrounding area with assault rifles.

  “What are they doing?” I asked Connor.

  “Pulling security. I’m teaching them how to do it the right way.”

  I nodded and went back to the horses. “There has to be at least thirty horses here. And is that�
� oh gosh, it’s Cinnamon!” I could swear the old nag winked at me.

  I tried to go to her, but Connor pulled me back. “No time. You can catch up with Cinnamon afterward.”

  “After what?”

  He ignored the question and towed me to the side of the house where a small, wooden gazebo stood. Wildflowers of every color threaded the lattices on the sides of the structure. They smelled like summer, and their vibrant colors stood out in contrast to the wood.

  “Did you do this?” I asked.

  He shrugged, grinning. “I had a lot of help.”

  I stopped to admire the flowers, but Connor tugged me inside the gazebo.

  “What are we doing?” I asked. “Why the hurry?”

  Once we were inside, he turned and hooked his fingers through my front belt loops, pulling me closer to him. “I wanted to share this with you.”

  I looked around. “The gazebo? You wouldn’t even let me stop to look at it.”

  “Nope.” Connor’s grin widened as he pointed toward the east. “That.”

  The sun peeked over the distant mount range, spreading a warm glow over the earth. I leaned against Connor and watched as the sun rose, brightening the sky with the promise of a new day.

  “It looks different, doesn’t it?” Connor asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Everything. It smells so fresh in here. And the sky… the sky looks like change. Everything just feels so hopeful.”

  The world hadn’t changed, but Connor had. I had. The kids had. Hope filled the air. Unable to speak, I nodded.

  “Look around!” he exclaimed. “It’s so beautiful!”

  Everything from the tall evergreens to the distant, snow-covered mountaintops was indeed, beautiful. But, my gaze lingered on the ground. Sleeping bags lay scattered everywhere. I didn’t know where they’d all come from, but the sight of them brought tears to my eyes. “How many are there?” I asked.

  “What?” He followed my gaze and grinned. “Oh. Eighty-three.”

  “What?!”My dreams collided with reality, sending my head spinning. Once again I counted eighty-three dead children and eighty-three flames of fire. Goose bumps sprouted across my flesh, and understanding made my legs wobbly. Thankful Connor stood so close, I grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt and held on, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

  “What’s wrong? The color just drained from your face.”

  “How certain are you of that number?” I asked.

  “We can take another headcount, but I’m pretty sure. We kept a tally, because they trickled in all night.”

  I glanced around at the sleeping bags and the horses. “How did they find us?”

  “After you passed out, several kids asked if they could go tell the others, the ones on patrol around the town. I honestly thought they’d changed their minds and were running out on us, but my gut told me to let them go. They multiplied and came back.”

  “Wow. This keeps getting crazier. There were eighty-three in my dreams too. This is so weird. So humbling. It’s like this huge thing is happening and I’m in the middle of it for some reason. I don’t know why. I’m just—” I looked away, ashamed. There was so much I needed to tell Connor. So much I should have already told him. “The reason I never told you about my dad is because it’s embarrassing.”

  “Your parents loved each other and your dad died in the service. What’s embarrassing about that?”

  “I didn’t get to the embarrassing part yet. I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out.”

  His brows furrowed.

  “My name, Connor. My dad was in the Navy and on… leave when I was conceived.”

  His eyes brightened with understanding and he chuckled. ‘Liberty call.’ That’s what the sailor’s call it, right?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Worst naming ever.”

  He only laughed harder.

  “You’re kind of a jerk, you know that?” I asked, struggling to maintain my frown.

  “That’s funny, and you know it. I’m never going to look at you the same way again.”

  I shook my head, still trying not to smile. “It’s horrid, and so are you for laughing.”

  “You’re laughing too!”

  “I am not. I’m just in shock that I told you. I had planned to take that secret to my grave.”

  Connor’s laughter died down and his eyes focused on mine. “I’m glad you told me,” he whispered. “I want to know all your secrets. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re beautiful and kind and courageous and funny, and I can completely understand why God would choose to use you. I would choose you.”

  His eyes took on an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t.

  “Now tell me about these dreams,” he said. “What did you dream about? Eighty-three diamonds?”

  I eyed him, suspicious about the abrupt subject change. “No, why?”

  “You said I had to buy you enough time for a fat rock. I bought you enough time to win eighty-three precious diamonds.”

  He pulled his fingers out of my belt loops and slid one under my hand. He slipped the other into his pocket, and then he got down on one knee and looked up at me.

  “I’d like to give you one more. Marry me?” Connor asked.

  Thrown completely off guard, I chewed on my lip as fear, love, hope, and doubt waged war inside me.

  “I don’t want some Princess Buttercup who stands by, waiting for me to save the world. I want the fiery redhead so full of passion and hope that she breaks down the enemy’s door to free kids. I want you.”

  My heart melted by his words, he pulled a ring out of his pocket and held it up for me to see. A round, brilliant-cut diamond, encircled by bezel-framed sapphires, sat atop a delicate platinum band. It was beautiful, antique-looking and completely unique.

  “That is gorgeous,” I whispered. “Where did you get it?”

  “My secret.” He leaned closer. “Can I put it on you?”

  I stared at the ring, mesmerized by the sentiment it represented. Forever, it seemed to whisper. This handsome, dangerous man who trusted and loved me wanted to make a lifelong commitment to me. How could I say no? “Yes. Yes, Connor. I’ll marry you.”

  He slid the ring up my finger, over my knuckle and stood, pulling me against him. “I love you,” he whispered before covering my lips with his.

  An equal number of “awws” and “ewws” could be heard behind us as he kissed me deeply. He tasted of promise and hope, making me realize how much the morning sun had changed. That day, eighty-three kids traveled beside Connor, Jeff, Ashley and me as we left Granite Falls, hurrying to catch up with Boom. We had won this battle, but the war was about to begin.

  “That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.” 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

  Thank you so much for reading Liberty’s Hope. I hope you’ve enjoyed the journey. Please help support my work by writing a review on Amazon. Reviews only require twenty words and help me tremendously. I appreciate your support!

  Also be sure to visit my website and sign up to be included on news about future releases:

  http://www.amandawashington.net

  Find me on Facebook, too!

  https://www.facebook.com/AmandaWashington.Author

  Other books by Amanda Washington

  Making Angel, Mariani Crime Family Book 1

  Fallen: Chronicles of the Broken 1

  Cut: Chronicles of the Broken 2

  Forsaken: Chronicles of the Broken 3

  Amanda Washington first put her dreams to paper in 1999. MAKING ANGEL is the first book in her new adult mafia fiction series, but she's a
lso written dystopian (RESCUING LIBERTY and LIBERTY'S HOPE) and young adult (FALLEN, CUT, FORSAKEN). When she's not writing, she's busy living out her real adventure in southwest Washington with her husband and their five boys.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First and foremost I thank God—for just being, blessing, and forgiving.

  Special thanks to my sister, Apryl Risoldi, who encouraged me to put my dreams to paper.

  Without the love and encouragement of my husband, Meltarrus, and our five sons I would have quit long ago. I love you guys! Thank you for being there for me. Thank you also to my parents, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents and in-laws who poured support into me.

  To my editors—Krista Darrach and George Hill who poured over the story many times, and were never afraid to point out my numerous mistakes—thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you both! Thank you, Tracey Jackson, for your tenacious prodding which convinced me to revisit this story long after I was ready to give up on it.

  I’m greatly indebted to the talented creative team who developed my cover. Cover design: Jackson and Tracey Jackson. Cover model: Jessica Yonko. Props: Matthew Morris.

  Sincere thanks to the many people who encouraged me, including but not limited to the following: David Antonio, Pam Armstrong, Kenton Brine, Terry & Pam Busch, Cindy Call, Trina Cardoza, Michele Cardwell, Deena Cornish, Kim Corona, Jim Darrach, Chris Fletcher, Melanie Fletcher, Doug Fromm, Faith Hahn, Jason Harnack, Nichole Krieger, Robert & Trina Krieger, Aaron Lamb, Kim Legato, Hoyt (Byron) McNair, Wayne Perryman, Noelle Pierce, Rob Pomeroy, JD Revene, Kelli Rodriguez, Pete Scholl, Clark & Cathy Sitzes, Sue Smith, Lisa Tucker, Chris Washington, Vickie Westfall, Elizabeth Whitworth, Gary Wolcott, all my Facebook friends, and anyone else I may have missed. Your belief in me kept me typing and editing, even when I didn’t want to. Thank you all!