by Hannah Ross
Twenty of their strongest men spread out, each holding a grenade. One in the center shouted out, "Three, two, one, pull and throw!" Everyone ducked.
It was hard to be sure, but Ben thought at least a dozen exploded. Whatever the number, those government troops who had not been killed or injured retreated far out of grenade range.
Then something happened, so unexpected that it went unnoticed until the very last moment. A solitary runner came from the left side of the battlefield and cleaved into the first row of the government troops. He was big and blonde and held something in each hand, and even as the soldiers shot in his direction, he swung his hands forward and threw whatever it was he held. Seconds later, two impacts shook the earth.
Ben looked at Tom, who seemed horrified. "Did you see what he…" Tom started, but shook his head, unable to speak. Ben was mute as well. There was no doubt Barry was dead. "Why did the Bear do it? He was always so selfish. Took such good care of his own skin. And suddenly he sacrifices himself for the sake of others?"
There was no time to think or speak. They left their shelter, crawling on their bellies, and moved to a direction where reinforcements seemed to be needed. Before they had managed to make it through, however, there was a series of explosions that left Ben momentarily deaf. Then, in the moment of great stillness that ensued, he felt the beating of his own heart, regular and powerful. He was still alive, he had to fight. He grabbed his rifle with one hand and shook Tom's shoulder with the other. "Tom, we ought to keep going."
His oldest friend didn't answer. Panic flooding him, Ben shook his shoulder again, but Tom didn't move. Gently turning him over, Ben saw a great gaping wound in his chest. Tom's eyes were glassy and empty. "Tom," Ben cried, "don't be dead, please don't be dead. We were always together, weren't we? In the orphanage, and then out here. We said we'd always be together. Don't leave me."
Ben felt faint. He knew he ought to resist and stay alert, but he had no energy left. With his last bits of strength, he propelled himself forward to another sand-sack barricade, fell behind it, and let darkness sweep him away.
23
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Consciousness returned, and pain with it. Ben's eyelids fluttered open, then fell shut again. Keeping his eyes open, at that moment, seemed as hard as making a full-day mountain trek was in better days. He was tempted to sink into the comfort of darkness, and get away from suffering, at least for a while.
He heard a sound. It seemed that someone was softly crying next to him. It bothered him. He wanted to say something to comfort whoever it was, but he was too weak. Then he heard something else – the sound of his own name. Someone was calling him, over and over again, in a concerned and gentle voice. He knew the voice, and loved it. He loved it more than any other voice in the whole world.
Priscilla? She's here? How can this be? And where's here?
The faint smell of her hair reached his nostrils. He wanted to touch her, to tell her not to worry, to say that he was hurt, and he didn't quite remember how, but it was all over and he would soon be fine if he just rests a little.
With immense effort, he opened his eyes. "Pris?" he croaked. Her face swam in and out of focus, and her eyes appeared red and swollen.
"Shh," she said, pressing a finger to his lips. "You must rest."
A flood of recent memories overwhelmed him as his consciousness became sharper. Pain, not physical this time, made him squeeze his eyes shut. "Tom."
"I know," Priscilla whispered, pressing his hand. "Please don't blame yourself, Ben. There was nothing you could have done. You received a bad head wound and lost a lot of blood. It's a miracle you're still here with us."
Recruiting all his strength, Ben lifted a hand and gingerly felt his head. His skull was wrapped in stiff bandages and felt tender underneath. He was afraid to ask the next question, but he had to know.
"Did we lose anyone else?"
"Hundreds, but not very many of those we know. Dan Crow and two other Ravens were killed."
"No," Ben said in a hoarse whisper. It was too much to think that he would never see Dan Crow again, never hear his ironic quips, never share a brew in his hide tent when he goes to visit. And Dan's family... He closed his eyes, wishing to sink into oblivion again.
"Thunder Cloud was wounded, but he's going to make it. And poor Tim Dustin might lose his left arm. And, of course, there was Barry. People told me how he died. I can't understand it."
"Me either."
It still seemed impossible that Barry the Bear, who lived a life of selfishness, showed up, threw himself into fighting for the Freeborn, and gave up his life for others. What had happened to the Bear in the years that passed since they last met? Ben realized he might never know.
"That attack of his, it threw confusion into the lines of the government troops. It took time for them to regroup, and then the bombs dropped."
"Bombs?"
"From an airplane. Three small bombs nearly wiped out the Tower's Security forces. Those who weren't killed were eager to surrender."
Only now did the meaning of this dawn upon Ben. "Do you mean to say... we won?"
Priscilla nodded. "If it had been otherwise, we wouldn't be here now. Yes, Ben, we won, which was more than many people expected. And our position is very precarious. No one knows what the White Tower will do next. One good bomb dropped from an airplane might wipe out Resurrection Town and us with it."
"Wait. You said bombs were dropped during the battle. Who dropped them?
"I don't know."
Another thought crept into his sluggish mind. "How did you get here?"
"Sidney. He rode to the farm to tell us about the outcome of the battle. As soon as I knew you were wounded, I had to come. That was three days ago."
"Ian and Mom and Dad. Are they alright?"
"Everyone's fine. Your Dad wanted me to take the car to bring you to the farm, but Sidney convinced him that in your present state, you're better off in a place with doctors. I rode back with him. Your Mom was desperate to get here as well, but I couldn't leave Ian behind without her being there to look after him, and I swore I'd contrive to send her word if you weren't okay. How do you feel now?"
Priscilla bent over him, placing one smooth, cool hand on his brow.
"I'm..." Ben didn't quite have the words to describe that he felt as if his body had been hacked into a million pieces and then carelessly reassembled. "I'm thirsty," he finally offered. His lips were parched, and his tongue felt like cotton in his mouth.
"Of course you are. We dripped some water down your mouth, but it wasn't nearly enough. I wish we had I.V. tubes here, like they do in real hospitals. Hang on. I'll get you something that will do you good."
Priscilla returned a minute later carrying a bowl of broth that gave off a rich, meaty smell. She spoon-fed Ben until he had as much as he could, then eased him back into the pillows, wincing as she saw his grimace of pain. Ben felt his eyes close again. He wanted to keep talking to her, to tell her how glad he was she came, but he was too exhausted.
He heard Priscilla's voice through a thickening fog. "Sleep, sweetheart. And don't worry, I'm staying right here."
For the next two days, Ben drifted in and out of this world. He slept during most of the day, and when he awoke, weak and feverish, Priscilla was there to wipe his brow, give him water, and feed him broth. She sponge-bathed him and even contrived to change his bedding without getting him out of the bed. Every time he closed his eyes, he longed for dreamless sleep, for when he dozed off he often found himself walking in the nightmare of the battlefield again, hearing the explosions, feeling Tom's limp and lifeless body in his arms.
On the third day, he woke feeling better and stronger, but once again, his first thought upon waking was about his friend. "Holly should know," he said. "Someone has to tell her. I have to tell her."
Holly, who, together with another boy, Frank, was part of the last orphanage batches, was driven away by her classmates and joined the Eagles when
the two stumbled upon them. She and Frank, like the rest of the outcasts, were only twelve years old then, and felt lucky to join the camp of older, more experienced people. As years went by, Holly and Tom got together, and the couple now had two children.
Priscilla squeezed his hand. "Holly was told almost at once. Andy rode over to the camp as soon as the battle was over, and told her. She was devastated, of course. Her youngest is only a year old. I can't imagine..." Priscilla stopped, shaking her head. The battle left many a widow, and the families that remained intact knew they had to be thankful for their good fortune.
"Is Holly here, then?" Ben asked.
"No. She had wanted to come, but Gabby convinced her it was too dangerous. We can't rule out another attack anytime soon, and the little ones need their mother. And after all, it's not like there's anything left to be done for poor Tom. There isn't even a grave to tend. There were so many fallen, they were all buried in a communal grave."
Ben suppressed a grimace of pain and shifted restlessly on the bed. "I wish I could get up already," he said. "I know that's no reason to complain, Pris, but I'm bored."
"Well… If you're feeling up to it, there are some visitors who have been wanting to see you for the past two days."
Though the Resurrection Town hospital could not boast private rooms, the beds in the long ward were separated by curtains to give a certain measure of privacy. Once Priscilla drew his curtain aside, Ben saw a group of people edging around it and into the narrow space immediately adjacent to his bed. There were Elisa Wood and Sidney Coleridge, Raven, her arm in a sling, and another man, tall and sprightly and very dignified-looking, whom Ben didn't know.
"We've been so worried," said Elisa, stooping to kiss him lightly on the cheek.
"I'm OK," Ben said, not quite truthfully, keeping a wary eye on the stranger.
"Ben. There's someone we thought you might want to meet," Raven said. "This is Percy Hawthorn, and he is, or rather, used to be, a government pilot."
Ben was so surprised he made to get up from the bed, but winced with pain.
"I'm afraid Ben is not at his best right now," Priscilla said, suspiciously eyeing the stranger. He had the high-class, polished demeanor of the kind of people who used to frequent her mother's cocktail parties. "And I don't really understand…"
"It's a long story," Hawthorn said. He had a nice voice, refined and gentle, yet without sounding emasculated. "To keep it short, it will suffice to say that I come from a family that was good, but not quite good enough. I have a well-to-do uncle who is very fond of me, and helped me get an excellent education, but my parents lived through ups and downs. My father has a congenital heart defect which makes him somewhat delicate, and for this reason my parents were only permitted to have one child. In a twist of irony, though, my mother became pregnant with twins."
They all listened with rapt attention, and it was clear that each one of them had the same thought. Could it be?
"As the firstborn," I had the privilege of a Class A citizenship. My brother, though we were twins, had a Class B. My uncle spared my mother the necessity of a forced abortion or of giving up her son. He could do no more than that, though. And while my brother and I grew up as best friends, with parents who loved us both and wanted to be fair, there was a distinction very early on. I was the only one who could go to the best schools, who was accepted to sports clubs. I got a college scholarship - my brother, a direction to a factory apprenticeship. He's now a machine operator in one of the major high-tech supply factories, married, a man of family, and to be sure, he might have had a worse fate, but over the years we've both grown full of bitterness. He, for his unjust lack of opportunities, and I, for my unfair good fortune. What did I do to deserve a preferential treatment? Was I cleverer, more talented than my brother? I knew I wasn't, and this made the injustice all the more glaring.
"When a superior officer in my squad made an unusual remark one day, a remark I later learned was often used to recruit new people, I let him know I agreed and not too long after, apparently after being thoroughly vetted, my career took an interesting turn and I trained as a pilot and bombardier. I assume someone knew the Tower's plan to send Security forces rather than the army to subdue you all and establish once and for all Tower control of everything inside and outside the Boundary, and arranged for the pilot, co-pilot, navigator, and me to be on the plane.
"Two of our people were embedded in the Security Force and they were supposed to send a signal if it looked like you all were losing the battle. Apparently, both were wounded almost immediately and it was fortunate one recovered consciousness in time to signal for the plane. We…"
"Wait," Elisa said. "You mean you dropped those bombs on your own men?"
Hawthorn sighed. "They were volunteers who knew it was likely a suicide mission. Still, it almost made me hesitate when the time came because I knew one well. But in war, you do what you must." He sighed again. "I hate the Tower government that caressed me, while dealing blows to my brother, and I wish I could have stayed inside and continued to work against them, but there was no way to hide who dropped the bombs. I parachuted out of the plane after shooting the navigator in the arm to make it look like he tried to stop me, so at least the other three are still inside working against the Tower."
"If he hadn't done that," Raven said, "we'd all be dead by now."
There were nods all around.
"But how would you and your friends, or even the army know the details of what the Security Force planned? Everything they do is supposed to be secret, or so I heard." Ben asked.
"This wasn't something we planned on our own," Percy said. "We have some common allies, Ben. I'm pretty sure you know Peter Hughes. And General Evans as well."
Ben Nodded, "General E. I should have realized he was involved."
"From the very beginning. He doesn't have unlimited control over the army anymore, but he still has great influence, and some very, very useful contacts. He couldn't prevent the White Tower attack on Resurrection Town, but he did what he could, like making sure the two signal men were part of the force, and the right crew was on the plane. I'm sure the Tower now considers me a traitor, so I've burned my bridges. I'll never go back to the Boundary and am ready to join the Freeborn, if you'll have me."
The picture was becoming clearer now, but Ben was still frowning in puzzlement, trying to process it all. So the miraculous victory wasn't so miraculous after all. General Evans helped us from behind the stage. Without him, we might all be dead. I wonder how much more there is that we don't really know.
"There's more," Raven said, as if reading his mind. "He's met Barry."
Ben's eyebrows arched. "Barry the Bear?"
"Yes," Percy nodded. "You might not know this, but military pilots often go on overseas missions. We carry cargo of weapons, or trade in some... shall we say, sensitive items. I met Barry during a trip to Brazil. He was living there quite nicely under a different name, of course, but a few pints in a bar in São Paulo were enough to get him to open up about who he was. Quite an interesting character, I must say. By status he was even worse off than my brother, being one of the Wild Children, but he somehow wormed his way into government employ and made himself useful. He used to work in Mexico. He said…"
"Mexico!" Everyone turned to Priscilla. "Maybe he had something to do with that immortality formula my father was so obsessed with."
"Possibly," said Percy, looking at her and probably realizing who she was. "He wasn't very clear about exactly what he did. Only said he was one of the little people, as he put it. He hated the White Tower with a passion, though, and for a while, was content with the notion of never setting foot in North America again. But he kept asking me questions all the same. What the government was up to now. What the policy regarding the Wild Children was. When I told him about the Registry project, he got all funny. 'It stinks,' he kept saying. 'It stinks worse than a cow pie on a hot summer day.' And I tended to agree with him. I realized that the Registry was probab
ly no more than a whitewashed attempt to get something out of the Illegals. I thought it might be just about cheap labor force, but Barry told me it might be a lot worse."
"There are people around here who could tell you many stories," Ben said.
Percy nodded. "I was thinking about my brother, about how he would have been an Illegal if it weren't for the connections we had. About how he was no worse than me, but was stuck in some dunghole while I was flying around South America and getting a pay rise every year, just because some prig in a government office decided my parents could only have one child. And eventually, something within me snapped, I guess. Barry and I got roaring drunk in São Paulo that night, and two days later, I took him on the plane with me back to the north. He said he was going to join the Freeborn, if they'd have him. I wanted to do the same, but Barry persuaded me to wait. He thought it might be useful for the Freeborn to have an insider in the army, and he was right. Then the General's man contacted me, and I knew what I had to do. If another crew had manned that plane, they would have dropped the bombs on the Freeborn."
Ben still felt skeptical. "It might not be nice to say this after what Barry did for us all, but we've known him since many years ago, and he used to be…" he paused, looking for tactful words out of respect for the dead.
"A selfish, bullying, manipulative shithead," Raven said.
"Well…yes."
"He had a long time to think," Percy said. "And as I said, he hated the White Tower. There's also his letter. Just before he went off to join the Freeborn, he wrote a letter to someone named Jen and left it with me for safekeeping. I knew she was a woman he knew a long time ago, but I never heard the details. I opened it when he was killed. He says all sorts of things there, mainly that he's sorry for destroying her family. I wish I knew who this Jen was."
"We know her," Ben said, "we know the whole story, and I promise you, an apology won't cut it."
"But a sacrifice of one's life might," Percy argued.
"You know what Andy would say about this, don't you?" Raven asked, turning to the others. "An eye for an eye. Well, I suppose even Barry could have seen the error of his ways... in the end."