The Broken Peace

by Martha Adele

  My palms fall and I look back to her. “He could be dead too for all I know.”

  “But last time you saw him, he was okay?”

  I nod, trying to calm myself down. “What happened to you? Where did you go? Where are we?” The room around me looks like and feels like Bergland. The cold air tunnels through the hallway and blows against my exposed skin, causing me to feel even colder than when I was soaked by the river and somehow reminds me that they blew all the entrances and exits to Bergland. This can’t be it.

  “We are in an underground bunker left over from when we were first building the mountain structures. Not many people from Bergland knew about this, only a select few. We made sure to keep this out of General Wilson’s knowledge.”

  “Wh—” I look around and step out of the path of the wind. “Why?”

  “There was always slight suspicion that something would happen and we would need this.” She sighs and waves me over to some seats in the corner of the room. “But we never could have predicted anything this bad.”

  “What? What’s going on?” I shake my head and look back to her as I take a seat. “No. First, what happened to you? You blew up! The Palace, it blew up with you in it! I saw you in there.”

  She nods. “I was in there. I was in there at a business meeting with some of the other officials and capital workers.” She sighs and looks around the room to the people walking back and forth with papers, seemingly rushing to get somewhere. “Just before the explosion, a man walked by our table and dropped a napkin in front of me. It read, ‘Get out now.’ When I showed the others, we all agreed to take the hint, and we slipped out the back of the building. Less than a minute after we fled, we met with a guide and the Palace blew up. The guide ushered us through the city without us being seen and brought us here, updating us on the events that had unfolded.”

  “Why did you trust the napkin? What if when you exited the building, you entered a trap or something? They could have killed you.”

  Janice shrugs. “There had been suspicion among some of the officials that General Wilson and Chancellor Oswald have been abusing their power. None of us at dinner that day had any problem trusting the napkin due to these suspicions.”

  “What suspicions? That they aren’t the best leaders?” I ask. “What exactly have you suspected?”

  “At first, they were suspicions. Now, they are known facts.”

  “What?” I reiterate. “What are the facts?”

  She pauses as a woman comes over, handing her a clipboard. Janice smiles at her, thanks the woman, and looks back at me. “Frieden’s government is almost as corrupt as Bestellen’s was.”

  I try to get a glimpse of what is on the papers, but miss it. Janice pulls them back to her body as I ask, “How so?”

  “There are spies, Mavis. Spies everywhere. Oswald has them planted throughout the nation to gather intel. If they find people who don’t agree with the chancellor, they will be executed as ‘rebels’ or ‘Amiable sympathizers.’ It is already happening. People are being poisoned, restaurants are being bombed, and people who are fleeing the nation are being shot.”

  “How does hiding down here help anything?”

  “We aren’t hiding.” A smirk slowly rises on Janice’s face as she looks back down at the clipboard. “We are preparing to reestablish order.”

  Logan

  “Three weeks,” Eric tells me as he makes the first move of our chess game. “Three weeks until you will have to find yourself a new roommate.”

  “You got the call?” I ask him, returning his move.

  He nods. “I spoke to Young this morning. Three weeks from now, I’ll be on a boat, performing my dream job.”

  I chuckle. “And I’ll be living alone, never having to smell your dirty laundry again.”

  “Aw, don’t be too broken up about it. If you want, I can leave one of my shirts for you to remember me by.”

  I look up at Eric as he smirks. We continue playing the game as reality sets in. I will be living alone. I’ve never lived alone before. I was going to have Sam move in, but there is no hope for that now.

  It has been a week since Sam’s death and Mavis’s fleeing. Everything seems so odd. I try to go to work and forget about it, but I can’t. John leaves me alone to do my job and hasn’t spoken to me since they left. I doubt he even knows what happened. He is the only one I ever speak to there, so when I don’t see him at all during my shift, it is a long and quiet day. I am left to my thoughts.

  My thoughts.

  The same thing I am left to when Eric and I play chess. The first few days after Sam died, Eric would ask me occasional questions about it, but return to his silent state after the question had been answered. Now, we just play the game in silence, waiting for each other to move.

  After Eric puts me in checkmate, I rise to my feet.

  “Another game?” he asks me.

  I shake my head. “Not right now. Maybe later.” I stretch for a bit, feeling a sharp pain in my lower back, which takes my breath away, and head over to the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  Looking back to him, I shrug. “To visit Sam.”

  Eric’s head slowly bobs up in understanding. He then turns back to the board and resets it, leaving me to exit the house without any eyes on me.

  I walk up the road, out of our neighborhood. I take the same path Eric and I did when he first went on a walk with his prosthetic. The familiar smell of spring thawing out of winter hits my nose and fills me with a sense of calm I haven’t felt in a long time. The calm is short lived as the questions swirl around in my head.

  If Mavis was Sam’s killer, why did she kill him?

  If she didn’t kill him, why did she run?

  Why wouldn’t the funeral services let me cremate Sam and put him into a matching gem? He would have wanted to be in the same necklace as his mother, wouldn’t he?

  If I was the only remaining member of Sam’s emergency contact sheet, doesn’t that mean I am family? If I am the only person to receive his mother’s necklace, wouldn’t that also qualify me to be able to choose what happens with his body?

  Apparently not. The police are allowed to give me his things, but I’m not allowed to have a say in where his body goes. Lucky for me, they buried him in the cemetery not too far from my house.

  I walk and walk until I pass by the house hidden behind the trees and surrounded by hundreds of flowers, the same house that Eric and I stopped at when we went for the walk. I am immediately hit by the sweet scent of the familiar plants. The orange, purple, yellow, pink, red, and blue flowers that flood this yard give me an idea.

  As I lean over and pluck a few of the flowers from the yard, a shooting pain speeds up my spine, causing me to regret bending. I straighten up slowly, taking the handful of flowers I plucked, and continue to the graveyard.

  This yard was so overgrown with flowers I doubt that taking a few was doing any harm. For all I know, I was doing good. I was helping them with their overgrown lawn.

  When I finally make it to the cemetery, I head directly to Sam’s grave. After weaving through all the plots, I set the flowers down in front of his headstone. Since I didn’t have a say in how Sam was buried, they gave him the regular rectangular-shaped clear-glass headstone. Most of the other stones in this cemetery are different colors of glass, and many of them are different shapes. Just as I set the flowers down, the sun peeks out from behind the clouds and illuminates every piece of glass within viewing distance. In the afternoons, when the sun is directly above, it looks as if each stone is glowing with pride; but in the mornings and evenings, when the sun is angled, the entire plot of land looks like a rainbow melting and flowing over the graves.

  I turn back to Sam’s headstone to find that his name in the stone seems to glow compared with everyone else’s. Though his doesn’t seem to help the colorfulness of the land, and
it does not take an odd shape, his stone seems more original than anyone else’s.

  I guess that’s just the effect Sam had.

  Werner

  The back of my head rests against the tree as I sit in my stand and wait. Almost twenty feet in the air, I hold my bow, ready to shoot. The afternoon heat slowly begins to find me, but is blown away by the cooling spring breeze.

  I try to keep my eyes open and stay awake as I wait for an animal to pass by, but occasionally I drift off. Out here, I am safe. Out here is where I come to rest and take a break from the world.

  I was assigned to watch the river again last night and the night before. I’ve seen no one else attempt to escape through there since Mavis’s group a week ago, nor have I seen anyone attempt to enter. This means for the last two nights, I’ve had to sit and stare at the wall’s opening and think about shooting those people.

  My assignments usually don’t affect me. I can usually do my job and move on. Yes, I feel somewhat guilty each time, but I get over it. I was executing criminals before they could harm anyone else. But now? I can’t seem to get over seeing someone I knew, someone who seemed as if they couldn’t hurt a fly.

  My thoughts are interrupted as something hits my arm. I look around for a moment when another pebble flies through the air and hits me in the hip. Immediately, I swing my aimed bow down and find the arrow aimed at the head of a fellow killer.

  “I have always loved your greetings, Rhodes.” Mac scrunches her face up into a smile and folds her hands together. “So warm and welcoming.”

  I roll my eyes at her lack of action when having a weapon aimed at her and climb down the stand. “You’re one to talk. You were throwing rocks at me.”

  She shrugs. “That’s fair.”

  Ruth Mcaninch is originally from Hout and aided the rebels in the war. She and I, being the best shots in the business, were teamed up a few weeks ago on assignment. We were to guard the capitol building one night after Burris was given a tip that there would be an attempt at infiltration by an Amiable rebel.

  “Where’s your book?” Mac asks me.

  I shrug. “I didn’t bring one today.” Every day I come out here, I bring a book to sit, read, and use to pass the time. Today was one of the first days in a long time I have not.

  “I noticed. You were falling asleep up there.” She gives me a smile and crosses her arms as I yawn. “Tired?”

  I shrug. “I had the night shift.”

  “Ah.” Her head bobs back a little. “I had the night shift two nights ago.”

  “Me too,” I tell her. “Burris hasn’t given me the day shift in over a week.”

  “Have you asked for it?”

  I shake my head. How can I ask Burris for something now? She already thinks I don’t trust her.

  Mac looks at me and squints. “Are you okay?”

  I nod. “Yeah. Why?”

  “You seem a little, I don’t know. Hesitant?”

  I shrug.

  “If I ask, would you tell me what happened? It’s something to do with work, right?” She shrugs back at me. “I know we can’t talk about it, but it’s not like I would tell anyone.”

  My eyes meet Mac’s. We stare for a moment as I contemplate. I know if I told her that I let people pass, she wouldn’t tell anyone; and I definitely know that if I tell her I’m beginning to question the system, she would hop on board immediately.

  But I also know I don’t want to get her into trouble.

  “Do you know any reason why people would be trying to flee Frieden?” I ask her.

  She sighs. “I’ve heard rumors. Do you know anything?”

  I pause. “No.”

  Mac’s face allows her smile to grow as she chuckles. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. I feel as if you know something.” She paces around me. “Maybe not a rumor. Maybe a fact. Maybe you know something that you need to share.”

  I turn back and look at her. I can tell she is just messing with me but is holding on to a slight shred of hope that I will actually confess.

  “Nope. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her with a smirk.

  Another sigh comes out of her mouth. “That’s the thing about having friends in our line of work. There’s always going to be secrets that won’t be shared.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Logan

  Walking through the same woods that Mavis walked through nearly every day causes me to second-guess my plan to visit the Page family. I make my way down the stone-lined path and to the small cabin to see smoke rising from the fireplace. My first thought is, “Thank goodness someone is home.” My second thought is, “Who is home?”

  I knock on the door and am immediately greeted by the curtains on the window beside the door sliding open and Caitlyn giving me a large and giddy smile. She closes the curtains and scurries over to the door, pulling me in.

  “Logan! Welcome back! Long time no see.” She closes the door behind me and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Should I go get Derek for you?”

  As she finishes her question, Derek comes out of one of the back rooms. He looks at me for a moment before speaking. “Hey, Logan.”

  “Hey.” I give him a small smile.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” he asks me.

  I shrug. “Not particularly. I—” I turn to him and slide my hands into my pockets. “I was just coming to check on you guys. You know, to see how you are doing.”

  Derek returns my slight smile. “Thank you.” He walks over to me and sits at the dining table. “My mom is wondering where Mavis is. I haven’t told her yet.” He looks past me as I sit across from him. “She is in the other room. Please don’t tell her anything.”

  I nod. “I won’t.”

  Caitlyn looks at me, then at Derek, and sits at the end of the table. “Have you thought about what she will say when she comes out and sees Logan?”

  Derek looks around the room and back at me. “She may not remember you. If she does, just excuse yourself, okay?”

  I nod. “Okay. I will.” After a moment of silence, I speak up. “So how are you?”

  He shrugs. Leaning back in his chair, Derek takes a deep breath. “Confused. Still very confused.”

  “Me too,” I answer. “It’s been over four weeks, and the police haven’t told me anything else even though they told me they would.”

  “Me too.” Derek cracks his knuckles and continues staring at the table. “I still don’t believe it. Mavis wouldn’t do that.”

  “I know. She couldn’t kill anyone, especially Sam.”

  Derek looks back up to me and quickly corrects, “Wouldn’t. She wouldn’t kill him. Believe me when I say, if Mavis had to, she’d kill.”

  “What?” I ask him in disbelief.

  “If she had to kill someone, she would. But that doesn’t change the fact that she wouldn’t kill Sam without a good reason.” He puts his hands on the table and looks at Caitlyn and I. “She had no motive. That’s what bothers me. The police just say she killed him because they needed someone to blame it on. They have no proof! No evidence!”

  “Well,” Caitlyn interjects. “From what you’ve told me, Derek, they found her fingerprints all over Sam and saw her fleeing the scene when the police showed up.”

  Derek shoots her a look of anger and annoyance. “That doesn’t mean she did it. What if she found him dead and then ran when she heard the police because she didn’t want to be accused?”

  The three of us remain silent for a moment. Caitlyn clears her throat and rises to her feet. “I’m going to go and finish dinner.”

  Derek’s eyes close, and he takes another deep breath. “Caitlyn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

  She nods and heads over to the fireplace. “I know. It’s okay.” She ties her blond curls back with a hairband and stirs the pot.

 
; Ms. Page’s bedroom door creaks open as she hobbles out. Her disheveled clothing looks as if she has been wearing them for a week, and somehow the moment she exits her room, an odd smell exited with her. “Derek, what were—” She pauses as her eyes fall upon me.

  Before she can say anything, I rise and head to the door. “I’ll see you later, Derek.”

  He nods and Caitlyn follows me out before Ms. Page can comprehend what’s happening. The door closes behind us, and Caitlyn looks at me with a smile. “Sorry about that. I know it can’t be a short trip from your place to here.”

  I shrug it off. “It’s fine. It was on my way home from work.”

  No, it wasn’t.

  “Well”—she gives me another smile—“thank you for stopping by. Maybe you can stop by more often. Derek doesn’t have many friends who would do that for him.”

  I shrug. “I mean, it wouldn’t be a problem to drop by every now and then. It just seems like he is a little agitated.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?” She looks back through the window beside the door and sighs. “He is dealing with a lot right now, more than I ever could.”

  “I know. I just don’t want to be another problem for him.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t be stopping by just for him, right?” Caitlyn gives me a small side smile, one that I don’t know what to do with. She extends her hand to mine and gives it a shake. “I will see you later, Logan.”

  I release her hand and nod again. “Goodbye, Caitlyn.”

  As I quickly make my way off the porch, she calls out, “You know …” I freeze and turn around. “You can call me Amanda if it’s easier. That’s what my friends call me.” She winks at me, forcing me to feel even more awkward than before.

  “Okay, Amanda,” I tell her with an uncomfortable smile as I scurry down the path back to the road.

  I doubt I will be going back there anytime soon.

  Mavis