The Broken Peace

by Martha Adele

  I reach up to pull her arm off, but she has me in a position I can’t get out of. After a moment of me not stopping the struggle, she swings my body down and forces us both to the ground.

  I continue to try to get out of it without hurting her but slowly start to black out. The lack of oxygen causes my head to pound an unbearable amount. I look around the roof and up to Mavis so that she will be the last thing I see, but I am released. The horror on her face as she scurries away frightens me, but it doesn’t help the situation.

  I lie on the ground, trying to regain all the lost air and blood flow, and hear her whisper something to me. Looking up to her, I see the same slightly panicked girl I met when we were first in the woods together.

  She runs over to me and grabs Sam’s necklace, pulling me forward and piercing the back of my neck where the chain was resting. It must have peeked out during the struggle.

  “What is this?” she whispers to me.

  I wheeze, trying to figure out what to say.

  Mavis yanks me forward again and shouts in my face, “Where did you get this?”

  I look her in the eyes and consider pulling off the mask.

  If I take it off, would she recognize me?

  No.

  She would become even more frightened and confused than she is now.

  I can’t let her see me. She doesn’t recognize my voice because of how much damage I’ve had, so how is she going to believe that I am me if I took off this mask? How would that help anything?

  It wouldn’t.

  “I got it from Sam,” I wheeze to her, trying to sound as normal as possible.

  Her immediate reaction is tightening her grip on the jewel. “Sam is dead.”

  I take another deep breath. “When the police found him, they gave me this necklace because it was to go to his family, but you and I were the only people left he considered family.”

  Her eyes widen as she releases the necklace. She takes a step back and stares at me in silence. After moments of waiting, she finally speaks up with an unconvinced and shocked expression, “Logan?”

  June

  The suited figure nods to me.

  I take a few deep breaths, trying to figure this out. Slowly, I begin to pace on the top of the roof and run my hands through my hair, trying to get a grip on this all. Without ever taking my eyes off this man, I force the need to scratch so far down in me that I hope never to see it again.

  “Prove it,” I tell him. “Take off the mask.”

  He rises to his feet slowly. With a deep and hoarse voice, he answers, “I can’t.”

  “I can’t trust you if you won’t show me your face.”

  He looks around the roof, and another gust of wind blows. Looking back to me, he wheezes, “The air hurts my skin. I can’t take off the mask.”

  “Why?” I take a step toward him and ask, “What’s happened since I left?”

  He takes a step toward me. “Why’d you leave?”

  “I had to.” We stare at each other for a moment. “I would have been killed if I didn’t.”

  He nods, possibly believing me but possibly waiting for the right moment to kill me.

  “I can’t keep talking,” I tell him. “I have to leave.”

  He wheezes once more. “I can’t let you do that. It was my job to keep Oswald alive.”

  I snort. “Well, you did a pretty crappy job.” He takes a step toward me as I finish, “If it wasn’t for my team and me, Oswald would have already been dead.”

  “What?”

  “Oswald’s advisors were going to kill him.”

  He shakes his head at me. “I don’t believe that.”

  “You don’t have to.” I take a few steps to get by him and watch him watch me. “I have to go.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “What?” I exclaim. “No.”

  “I want to help.”

  The two of us stare at each other. “What?”

  “It was my job to protect him.”

  My eyes narrow to him. “And you always follow orders?”

  He remains quiet.

  “How about this,” I continue to walk past him. “I will give it some thought on whether or not to let you come, but you have to show me your face first.”

  He stares at me and looks around the roof of the building. After a moment, he nods. “I will but once we get out of the wind.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Logan

  I drag the final guard back behind the building, and Mavis hides them under the tarp. She tucks the edges in under the bodies so that the tarp won’t fly away, but it still looks suspicious.

  The two of us then get into the first car that Oswald arrived in, and Mavis drives us off into the woods. Neither of us has said anything, which makes the tension somehow greater. We drive about a mile into the trees until we can’t see any point of civilization, and she parks the car.

  Turning the keys and pulling them out of the vehicle, she looks back to me. “So?”

  I stare at her, trying not to let my wheezing become too loud. “Are you sure?”

  Immediately, she nods.

  I continue to stare at her, into her eyes, and reach up for the mask. Slowly, I slide it off, feeling the cool air from the air-conditioning vents that have just stopped blowing. I force myself to ignore the burning as I watch her expression shifts from seriousness, to pure shock. How she manages to keep her mouth from gaping, I don’t know.

  I scan her face just as she does mine. This is Mavis. It looks just like Mavis, just with more of her. Her face has gotten slightly rounder and her body slightly thicker. The more I scan her, the more she looks healthier than she did before.

  Her hand slowly rises. I watch her hesitate and try to decide whether or not to touch my face. She stares at me, and our eyes flicker from one eye to another. As I wait for her to decide, I find myself holding my breath. Just as her hand becomes less than an inch away from my face, she pulls away. “You can come.”

  She watches me slide my mask back on and listens as my wheezing continues. When we finally exit the vehicle, Mavis’s pace quickens; and we begin speed walking away from the car. On our way back to their hideout from the woods, the quiet between us reappears. After over ten minutes of silence, I decide to be the first one to speak.

  “What happened with Sam?” I ask her, trying not to sound too gravelly.

  “He overdosed.”

  I pause. Overdosed? Sam? “The police think you did it.”

  She looks to me confused.

  “They think you killed Sam.”

  Looking back ahead of us, she forces herself back into the serious stature. “Mavis never killed anyone.”

  “Mavis?” I ask her.

  “Right. She never killed anyone.” She clears her throat and continues forward. “I am June. June Dawson.” Adjusting her belt and the strap that holds her gun on her back, she stares straight ahead.

  “What?”

  “Mavis Wamsley is dead.” She looks to me but only for a moment. “She died the same night Sam did.”

  The two of us continue in silence. I want to ask her how she has been, where she has been, and so many other things; but I don’t think she will tell me. As I shuffle through all the questions I could ask, she speaks up.

  “Where do you work now? Are you still with the Taai?”

  I shake my head and clear my throat. “I no longer work with them but for an individual commanding officer.”

  She nods. “What happened to your skin?”

  This question is the one that killed our conversation. Neither of us says anything after that. We just walk the seven or eight miles through the back parts and hidden areas of the town and get to the back of a purple building. June unlocks the metal door and enters, leading me to follow.

  Upon entry, we
file through multiple small rows of fabric rolls and make it to a small hidden latch on the ground, which has already been opened. I follow Mavis down the stairs of the entrance, and we make our way into a room that reminds me way too much of the one Derek and his mother were in. Two other people wait on the outside of the window, just as I once did, and give us shocked looks when June comes down.

  I look past the two others to the inside of the interrogation room and find what I came looking for.

  Chancellor Oswald.

  June

  “What is this?” Zane rises from his chair and glares at Logan.

  Van’s immediate reaction is to raise her pistol to him. Logan braces to be attacked, but I step in front of him. Van looks to me for a split second but keeps her gun aimed on Logan. “June, you can’t bring people in here.”

  “He can be trusted,” I tell them, “and if worse comes to worse, we can kill him.”

  Van continues staring at Logan but lowers her pistol. “I hope we don’t have to.”

  “I agree.” Zane looks from Logan and back to me. “We were waiting for you to start.” He walks past Van and into the room with Oswald. The moment Oswald sees him, a streak of fear crosses his face, causing me to feel a tad bit guilty about all this.

  Van makes her way past Logan and me and over to the stairs. “I have to go. I’ve stayed too long already. Please be careful.” She gives Logan one final glance and exits the building, leaving Logan and me alone on this side of the window. We step forward and listen to Logan’s patterned breathing, along with Zane as he speaks to Oswald in a polite and calm manner.

  “Good evening, Chancellor Oswald.” He folds his hands on the table and looks to the blue-eyed, perfectly sculpted chancellor. “I am very sorry for tonight. I know that this can’t be easy.”

  “Well”—Oswald chuckles nervously in his overly proper Bergland accent—“I can’t say that it was.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry, but we had to get ahold of you.”

  Oswald looks to the window, seemingly right at Logan and me. “How many of you are there?”

  “That’s not important. What is important is that you should feel safe with us. It is not our intentions to hurt you.” Zane clears his throat and leans back in his chair. “I have some questions to ask you, if you don’t mind.”

  “Well, I, um,” Oswald stumbles, “I guess I don’t mind.”

  “Thank you. Would you please tell me, do you know anything about the missing Frieden citizens?”

  “The missing citi—” Oswald leans forward on the table as well. “No, I do not. Do you?”

  “What about the assassinations throughout the country?”

  “No, I don’t. Do you know something? I heard about these just the other day, and no one has explained to me what is going on.”

  “And what about the tortures?” Zane asks Oswald, earning a change in wheezing patterns from Logan.

  I look to Logan and see him continuously staring at Oswald as if nothing else exists.

  “Tortures?” Oswald asks. “What are you talking about?” The room is silent for a moment. Oswald speaks back up with a nervous chattering, “This is the first I have heard about any sort of torturing. Who is doing this?”

  “You mean, you are unaware that your advisors have condoned torture techniques such as electric shock, beatings, and—”

  “What? Unaware? Of course I am unaware!” Oswald looks at Zane with a hurt expression, one of true pain. “If I knew about this, they would all be fired immediately and all who assisted as well. This can’t be true. There is no way that there is any sort of assassination or torturing condoned within my administration.”

  Logan immediately rushes past me and into the room with Oswald. Zane rises to his feet to get in between Oswald and Logan but is overpowered when Logan slams his fist on the table and pulls off his mask.

  “Do you see this?” Logan shouts at the chancellor in a horrible, hoarse voice. “Do you see it? Do you hear it?” He growls, “This is what your administration condones. This is what your torturers do to people.” Zane grabs Logan and forces him out of the room as Logan struggles to breathe. Logan coughs and gasps for air as I watch the two struggle and Oswald gapes in horror. Zane shoves Logan out of the room and slams the door behind him.

  “What are you doing?” Zane shouts at Logan. “He needs to feel safe with us.”

  “I was helping you! I am an example of what the torturers do.” Logan gets in Zane’s face. “Do you see my skin? I am helping make the point that you need.”

  The two of their voices overlap as they shout.

  “It’s not like I was going to hurt him! It is my job to keep him alive!”

  “Oh yeah? Whose orders are those?”

  “Don’t you twist my words. I am not doing anything wrong.”

  “Tell that to the—”

  “Guys!” I stand in between them and shove them both away. “Stop.” Looking to Logan, I speak calmly. “Thank you for that. I know it couldn’t have been easy.” I turn to Zane and head over to the door. “Please, try to get along.”

  I enter the room with Oswald, and the entire tone of the scene changes. This room is much better lit than outside, and the walls are a much lighter color. I turn back to the window to find a mirror and that Oswald and I are staring at each other through it.

  “Hello again,” I say to him kindly. “I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances.”

  “What? You are working with them?”

  I shrug. “That depends. Who is them? Who do you think we are?”

  He looks around. “From what has happened tonight, my first assumption was the rebels, but now I’m not so sure.” A moment of silence passes between us as we stare. “Why haven’t you all killed me?”

  “Because that isn’t what we are here to do. That isn’t why we took you tonight.” I sigh, not really wanting to break the news to him. “We actually took you to save you.”

  Oswald gives me an odd look. “What?”

  “The day you and I ran into each other at the park, I slipped a small microphone underneath your coat collar.” I pull out a small plastic box on which we saved the clips of his advisors. “After you left the room, we heard something. Something that is hard for me to show you.” I press the button and listen to the plastic piece whirl. “You have a right to know.”

  The recorder plays the clips of Riley and Madden with another advisor, who we don’t recognize, going over the plan.

  “Just one more week.”

  “Everyone will assume it was a ‘rebel act.’ After he is gone, Riley can take over, and we won’t have to go through Oswald anymore to propose acts.”

  “This can’t be over soon enough.”

  As it plays through, Oswald looks to me with tears filling his eyes. None have fallen yet, but they have all formed a wall over his perfectly blue iris.

  I reach my hand out to his and place mine on top. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe here.”

  He shakes his head, staring down at the table. The moment he blinks, two streams of tears fall down his cheeks. “They were my friends. I had no idea they thought me so idiotic. I had no idea they had plotted to have me killed.” One of his hands combs through his hair as he continues to stare at the table. His voice has changed into a state of sadness but not a voice that I usually hear with tears. He sounds as if he isn’t even crying. “I have been played like a pawn.” He slowly flips his hand over and takes hold of mine. Oswald sits there in silence for a moment, holding my hand in his and trying to get back to his normal state.

  “Please”—he releases my hand and sniffles, looking up to me and back to the mirror—“let me help you. I had no idea any of this was happening. I didn’t know there were assassinations, I didn’t know there were missing citizens, and I certainly had no idea there were any tortures happening. Let me help.”
<
br />   I give him a small smile. “Give me one moment.”

  Exiting the room, I head out to find Logan with his mask back on and Zane looking to me with an impressed expression.

  “We have him onboard.”

  Zane

  Rolling up the last portion of fabric to restock the shelves, I listen to the hologram screen and watch as the interview with Oswald takes place.

  He is dressed in one of his nicer suits and sits across from the interviewer in a comfy chair with larger-than-life cushions and armrests. The huge red velvety seat makes him look much smaller than he actually is.

  “It was terrifying. It truly was,” he tells the interviewer.

  She crosses her legs and brushes off her tightly fitted skirt. “It sounds terrifying. Amiable rebels are something who have been in everyone’s nightmares lately. Would you be able to elaborate a little bit more of what happened last night?”

  He clears his throat and folds his hands. “It was a normal transportation. Very routine. I go from one car to another and have them both drive off in separate directions. The only thing different was the atmosphere, really.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Oswald looks to her with a sense of pain in his eyes. “My driver, along with the guards who went with me, none of them said anything during the drive. It was very”—he pauses and looks back to his hands—“uneasy.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “I don’t know.” He looks back to her. “I don’t know. All I know is that when we met at the rendezvous point, the first few guards got out of our car, and everything was fine. I followed them out and began heading to the next vehicle, but as soon as the rest of the guards exited the first van, I could hear hushed shots taking place. Not so much as gunshots but more of a small whistling as the bullets penetrated all the guards’ heads.”

  “Oh my!”

  “Yes. That was one of my first thoughts too, followed by, who is that man rushing toward me?”