Eve of Tomorrow (Dawn of Rebellion Series Book 3)

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Eve of Tomorrow (Dawn of Rebellion Series Book 3) Page 9

by Michelle Lynn


  After a minute, she finally looks at Lee and me and says, “the three of us must find Kearn.”

  Chapter 29: Dawn

  My eyes are unfocused, so Officer Mills is a blur as she comes to check on me. Lucas is dead and I can’t completely wrap my foggy head around that yet. He spent his last days in the bed right beside mine. I don’t know how Grace can sit here and not fall to pieces when she sees the empty bed. She loved Lucas deeply despite it being against the rules for officers to fraternize with their soldiers. He and Grace saved my life and then became my friends. He was a good person.

  I wipe the tears from my eyes and grab Grace’s hand as she passes by.

  “The world needed more men like him, Grace,” I say.

  The doctors say that I am on the right side of the disease now. My body has beaten it and now I just need to get stronger. They say the disease has run its course through the compound and the quarantine will be lifted soon. In other words, everyone who will get sick already has. Drew and Grace were spared, as was my father. My mother overcame the illness and they say I probably inherited the antibodies from her. At least I got something good from her.

  The illness was brought here from St. Louis and could have spread elsewhere. I have no idea if Gabby, Lee, and Jeremy are alright.

  I can see that my father is quarantined in the next room over. That's weird, right? I don’t remember him being here but I’ve been pretty out of it for a while now. He and Hunter have been pouring over maps and plans, but I just can’t seem to care at the moment. What I do want to know is how many in the compound are dead. I’ve heard rumors that it hit us pretty hard, and not just here in the clinic. Everyone here is sick of death, and they’re blaming Texas for it.

  My eyes finally focus just in time to see Drew bringing me a bit to eat, but I have coughed so much in the past few days that my throat is raw and it even hurts to chew. Hell, it hurts to talk, and that’s killing me too.

  “I took a look at what the General and Hunter have been doing over there,” Drew says. “We're leaving the compound.”

  I smile at the thought. I hate being underground. Fresh air sounds amazing right about now.

  “Where would we...” I stop myself as I answer my own question, “The Wastelands, of course!”

  Drew doesn’t get a chance to respond because the PA system overhead switches on and Miranda’s voice calls out to us.

  “The quarantine is over,” she says. “If you are still recovering, stay in the clinic. Otherwise, it’s best to return to your bunks.”

  She doesn’t mention the people that have died; she doesn’t even acknowledge what we’ve just been through. Our ranks are thinned and our morale is down, and my mother is still a piece of work. Grace helps me sit up, but a nurse walks up and tells me that I can’t leave yet. I get narked when Drew agrees with her.

  “I don’t want to be here any longer,” I protest.

  The nurse shakes her head. I lock my eyes onto Drew’s.

  “I can’t stay here. I am getting better and I’m no longer contagious,” I argue as he frowns, but he doesn’t move to help me. “Lucas died in that bed!” I point for emphasis. “And someone died in this bed before it became mine. I can’t be here.”

  Drew doesn’t budge, but to my surprise, my father intercedes.

  “I’ll help her to her bunk,” he says in that no nonsense, don’t contradict me, kind of way.

  “Yes, sir…” the nurse stammers.

  Drew brings a wheelchair over to my bedside and once I’m situated in its seat, my father insists on pushing me. He doesn’t say much as we wind through the halls, but he does something peculiar when he drops me off at my bunk.

  I stand to face him and thank him. For just a second, I get the feeling he’s going to hug me. He seems to hesitate before deciding against it and instead, he puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes quickly before marching off without a word.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t support you back there,” Drew says.

  I barely hear him because I’m too focused on my father’s disappearing figure and our almost family moment.

  “What?” I ask absently.

  “In the clinic,” he clarifies as he turns to leave.

  “Oh, already forgotten,” I rasp.

  I’m not mad. I’m so tired of getting mad at people and don’t want to do it anymore. I crawl into bed and the sleep is a relief.

  Chapter 30: Dawn

  I wake up hurting and starving, so I make my way to the mess hall slowly.

  “Hello, this is the General speaking,” my father’s voice booms overhead. “I have sad news to report this morning. We have lost roughly one third of our soldiers who were located here at base. They were brave men and women who gave their lives for our cause. We are receiving reports that Vicksburg was untouched by the virus. St. Louis is still sealed, so we are getting no word from there.”

  He pauses to let everything sink in, before ending the announcement abruptly saying, “there is a mandatory meeting tonight. Be in the carpark at sundown. That is all.”

  People around the mess hall look as confused as I feel.

  “Why do you think we’re meeting in the car park?” I ask no one in particular.

  “It's probably for some kind of training,” someone answers, and I look to see who it is. Shay sits down across from me. I didn’t even know she was at base.

  I haven’t seen Shay since before the attacks on Texas. I used to avoid her because she’s outspoken and rude. Now, her presence is a comfort, because she reminds me of Gabby.

  “Hey, Shay,” Drew says.

  He obviously knew she was here.

  “Hi,” she responds before turning her attention to me. “I heard you got sick, Dawn. Me too. We are pretty bad ass for beating it,” she says raising her hand as if she expects me to give her a high five.

  “Do you realize how many people died?” I ask, well aware that I am being a proper bitch. “We were lucky, that’s it.”

  “Geez, sorry,” Shay says.

  For a moment, I see a glimpse of the Shay that I met at the caves while I was on my way to Floridaland. She’s changed, but then again, so have the rest of us.

  “Let’s just talk about something else,” I say with a sigh.

  “Well,” she begins, “I heard that command is preparing to bug-out.”

  Her eyes light up with excitement and I glance at Drew. I watch as she speculates on what could happen. This Shay is happy and open. She’s even pretty nice. She isn’t so combative anymore. I can see why everyone likes her so much, but, right now, her excitement is too much. After scarfing down two bowls of grain, I lay my head on the table and zone out to the sound of the chatter.

  I didn’t even realize I had fallen asleep until Drew puts his arm around me to wake me up. “Hey Dawn,” he whispers into my ear.

  “Yeah,” I murmur, sitting up straight and looking around.

  “Everyone is reporting to the carpark,” Drew says.

  “We should go,” I say standing, but immediately fall back into my chair, lightheaded.

  “You should lie down,” Drew says. “I'm sure you could be excused from the meeting.”

  “No. I want to go,” I protest as I stand again and, holding onto Drew, and manage to stay on my feet this time.

  The carpark is packed by the time we get there and no one seems to know what’s going on. I lean on Drew for support as we wind through the crowd to the front. The ramp opens and all of us ascend outside.

  “We're meeting outside?” I whisper to Drew, not really expecting him to have any answers.

  He just shrugs. The only time this many Rebels have been outside the compound together was right before the assault on Texas. What’s happening now?

  For the first time in weeks, I feel the crunch of grass beneath my feet. I stop and look up at the sky, the big beautiful sky, before being swept forward in the crowd. Across the field, my father is standing with a string of large fires blazing behind him. A fetid smoke wafts ove
r and all around us, as we all come to the same conclusion at the exact same moment. The smell of death is one that every soldier knows and can never forget.

  The crowd murmurs until the General cuts it off in a booming voice when he says, “Tonight, we honor the dead. In the coming weeks, we embark on a journey to save the living.”

  Chapter 31 : The General

  “Tonight we mourn friends and even family,” I begin. “They were Rebels for our cause, all of them, and although they were taken down by this tragic pestilence, they did not die in vain. All of them have helped us come out of the wilderness, to find a place for our people and all those who seek safety from tyranny and the ravages of a collapsing world,” I pause for a moment before going on.

  “Many escaped British slave camps. They bravely battled the Texans, bent on dominating and destroying. They stood up against the violence of the remnant Americans and invading Mexicans,” I continue. “No, we cannot bury them as they deserve. We cannot risk more disease, but we can honor them like the warriors of old – sending their spirits into the air and their ashes into the soil they fought for. Breathe in, my comrades and remember this night, for tomorrow we march towards the future they gave their lives to bring forth.”

  “The last fire is going, sir,” Allison says, walking up behind me. She has returned from Vicksburg today with two men in tow. Jack and Clay were Rebels stationed with her in the capitol. Along with some others, they’ve been helping me with this today.

  “Thank you, Allison,” I motion her past me. The moon is hidden by clouds now and the sky is dark.

  A slow moving line is making its way from fire to fire with muttered prayers and sobs. Others sit on the ground and weep. I see Dawn kneeling next to a shaking Officer Mills and reaching out her hand. Grace takes it and then ends up draped over Dawn as she cries for Lucas. I turn away and remind myself that this was a good idea. As hard as it is to watch, people need to feel all of this now. They will eventually be asked to push the sadness aside, but not tonight.

  After a short time, I step forward once again. Now comes the harder part.

  “I’m here to tell you about your future and mine,” I say. “The rumors are true. England is dying.”

  I pause to let that sink in before continuing, “Even as our forces retake the government, we can do nothing to save the land.”

  A gasp ripples through the crowd.

  “We are not here to battle England, but to save her. Our future is not in a war that we can never win or in a dying land that can no longer sustain us. Our hope is here in this new world.” I take a deep breath before I keep speaking. “For the past few years a secret faction of fellow fighters has been carving a place for our people out of the wilderness. Eventually, we will go there to receive our people as they come to us. That is our future.”

  I still haven’t told them where that nation is to be but the word “Wastelands” is better left unsaid for now.

  “Within a few weeks’ time, we will be leaving this base behind. There is one last mission for the Rebels. Be prepared, we head for Texas.”

  Chapter 32: Gabby

  The Damned. That is still all we know about the weapon. The name of a place in Mexico. They call it Los Condenados. What do we do with that? We haven't found the Reverend and we’re beginning to think he already skipped town. I'd be out of here myself if I had a choice, but the outbreak has devastated St. Louis and every ranker, including us, has been tasked with removing the bodies.

  None of the Texans will touch the dead for fear of catching what killed their loved ones. They hide as we enter their homes. When I became a soldier, this is not what I thought I’d be doing. I wanted to be on the front lines. Instead, I am sweaty and tired, holding onto the feet of a grotty corpse. We’ve been told to show compassion for the families of these poor souls. I ignore them instead. I just want to get this over with.

  I nod to Lee and we swing the rigid body up into the back of the truck and head inside to collect another member of this family that died. It's a kid; a young girl. I run from the house and hurl.

  I wipe my mouth on my sleeve as I see Lee walk out carrying the girl. Her long hair spills over his arm as he hoists her into the truck. He pats the side of the truck to let the driver know it’s full and the truck heads off to the burning site, but the smell of death still lingers in the air and on my clothes.

  Lee walks toward me and I stand up straight, trying to even my breathing.

  “You okay?” he asks. It isn’t said in the soft, caring way that Lee used to use his words. He is still angry with me.

  “I’ll live,” I answer, knowing it’s the wrong thing to say as soon as it leaves my lips. Lee scowls at me before taking off toward the flat we’ve been assigned. They only had one to give us so I’m heading in the same direction. Before following him, I curse the fact that I can’t seem to get away from Lee. We share a bathroom and a bedroom. He’s been sleeping on the floor but he’s still always there.

  No matter how much I scrub, I don’t feel clean. The smell has seeped into my skin. I consider burning my clothes, but we’re doing the same thing tomorrow so I just heap them in the corner.

  “You going to the mess?” Lee asks.

  “No,” I respond curtly. I can’t eat anything after today.

  “Well, I am,” he says as he pulls on his boots.

  “I’m going to check on Jeremy,” I say suddenly.

  Jeremy is still recovering a bit so his assignment has been postponed. I think he’s going to be with us tomorrow.

  “Of course you are,” Lee says, sighing as he leaves.

  I don’t have the patience for Lee’s moodiness tonight. I wait a few minutes before I leave so that I don’t have to walk with him.

  Jeremy lives in the army barracks. That’s where most of the Rebel soldiers live. Lee and I are only staying in the government sector because we were sent by Adrian. The Cole surname still scares the mayor of St. Louis.

  I am walking by the entrance to the Mexican sector of town when I see someone suspiciously dart across the street. It’s getting dark so my eyes could be playing tricks on me. I rest my hand on my holster and follow him into the Mexican neighborhood. I continue to follow him into a dark alley, but then I lose him.

  This is really daft, I think and then I hear a whoosh from behind me. Before I know it, an arm is around my neck and my arm is twisted behind my back. I scream for help as if there could be help for a British girl in Mexican territory. He tightens his choke hold.

  “Why are you following me?” he asks, growling, his accent thick.

  I kick my leg out behind me but he doesn’t even flinch.

  “I’m going to uncover your mouth,” he says. “Do not scream.”

  He removes his hand and spins me around to face him. His right hand grips my shoulder tightly while the left opens my holster and removes my gun. I try to knee him in the groin but he catches my leg and twists me to the ground. His knee digs into my back.

  “Why are you following me?” he repeats.

  I struggle against him but he is too strong. I try to reposition myself so that I can grab my knife from its sheath on my leg, but he sees what I’m doing and takes it, throwing the blade aside.

  “You won’t be needing this,” he says.

  “Get off me you stupid git! Who are you?” I ask harshly.

  “I ask the questions. Who are you working for?”

  “No one,” I answer. “I just saw you run across the road and I was curious.”

  “Curious?!” he practically yells before calming his voice. He doesn’t want us to be heard. “Curiosity is a dangerous trait, even for a Rebel soldier.” He unexpectedly gets off of me and pulls me to my feet.

  “Luckily, we’re on the same side this time.” He lets go of my hand and I think he half expects me to run.

  When I stay, he motions me to follow him.

  “Come,” he says. I may be a proper nutter for doing so, but I follow him.

  We stop at a nearby hou
se. The windows are boarded up so that no one can see inside and a man and a woman sit in rocking chairs on the front porch with assault rifles cradled in their laps. My new friend hasn’t given me my gun or my knife back so I feel naked as we step into a room full of armed Mexican soldiers. They eye me suspiciously and I stay close to the man in front of me. I don’t even know his name. What am I doing here?

  I am led up a staircase and into an empty room. The man I’ve been following shuts the door behind us and turns to me.

  “I want you to know,” he begins, “that if you weren’t a Rebel, you’d be dead.”

  I look at him in stunned silence as he continues, “As it happens, we lost our contact with the Rebels. Miguel, my uncle, died from the outbreak. He was trading information with a Rebel contact. Now it’s up to me.”

  “Who are you?” I ask again, but before he gets a chance to answer, the door bursts open.

  “Rafael!” a woman yells as she stomps into the room flanked by two tall men, their rifles at the ready. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “No, I haven’t,” he answers defensively. “While all of you were happy staying here and doing nothing, I’ve been out trying to find Miguel’s Rebel contact, Drew.”

  “Drew was in contact with you?” I interject.

  “Do you know how we can contact Drew?” Rafael asks.

  He wants to talk to the Rebel that he already knows.

  “He isn’t in St. Louis anymore,” I answer.

  “See, we need a new contact,” Rafael states. “We can’t afford to stop searching now.”

  “I am well aware of the urgency of this situation,” the woman responds. “That doesn’t mean we are going to start bringing Rebel soldiers here. What would happen if any of the other cartels saw you? Did you ever think of that?”

  Rafael’s face falls as he realizes the danger he’s placed these people in.

  “There is a reason that Miguel was in charge of the contact and you were just his compadre. Get rid of this girl discreetly and then we can talk about what a waste of a son you are,” she says before she turns and leaves without another word.

 

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