Dissidence

by Jamie Canosa

  ***

  The camp is more than a little surprised when we turn up with so many extra passengers.

  “What happened?” Connor’s there to meet me as I climb down onto the platform.

  Anxious faces surround the station, awaiting our return. Everyone’s looking for answers. Judging by the tears freely flowing down a few faces, some of them already know them. People continue to pour off the train behind me, and I allow myself to be swept along with the flow of bodies heading back toward the camp, leaving Peter to fill Connor in on the details of my horrific failure.

  The dormitory is blessedly empty when I slip inside. Dropping down on the first bunk I come to, I bury my face in the pillow and wish I’d wake up to find all of this was some kind of nightmare. No such luck. Thirty seconds later, there’s a knock on the door as it swings open. I don’t bother lifting my face as it clicks shut again and a weight shifts on the mattress beside me. I already know who it is.

  “Girlie, you all right?”

  “Peachy,” I mumble incoherently into the pillow.

  “Kaleigh, this wasn’t your fault. You don’t have to hide in here.”

  “Don’t, Connor,” I growl, sitting up to face him.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t start.”

  He’s relentless. At least Peter knew well enough to leave me the hell alone during the ride back. Of course, that could have had something to do with the fact that those doors actually had locks on them. Some even on the inside.

  “I’m not starting. I’m telling you that it isn’t your fault . . .”

  “Oh, yeah? Then whose fault is it? Who are they all going to blame? Huh?”

  “You did the best you—”

  “I know I did. Wasn’t good enough, though, was it? Well, ya know what, you come up with something better. All you’ve managed to do is bring more people in, while I’m trying to get people out. Frigging brilliant, Connor. So glad you could contribute.” Hurt flashes across his face for a moment, but I don’t care. I’d rather have him hate me than feel sorry for me. “So you tell me, what do we do now? Come on, mastermind, spit it out. Let’s go. Everyone’s waiting to hear our next clever plan. What will it be? Raiding more camps, or maybe attacking the colonies ourselves, that would be ingenious. They’d never see it coming. Maybe we can take over the entire country.”

  “You’re upset. I get that.” His tone is gentle, but I can see the anger brewing in his eyes.

  Good. I hope he’s mad. I hope they all are. I don’t want their pity, and I sure as hell don’t deserve it. Connor stalks out of the dorm, not without slamming the door behind him, and I collapse back down on the bunk and shut my eyes, but once again, my escape into unconsciousness is thwarted.

  “Leigh?”

  What is their problem? Do I have an ‘In Need of Pep-Talk’ sign hanging around my freaking neck?

  “What?” I snarl, hoping he takes the hint. He doesn’t.

  Instead, he takes a seat on the bunk across from me like he is planning to stay a while. Then, he just proceeds to stare at me with a creep factor of ten.

  “Whatever it is you have to say, Peter, just say it so you can go.”

  Peter crosses his arms and leans back against the wall. His voice is so quiet I have to strain to hear him. “You don’t always have to be so hard on yourself.”

  Oh no, he is not letting me off the hook that easy. “He betrayed us, Peter. I trusted him, not just for me, but for everyone. Hixon set the trap, and I marched all of us right into it.”

  “We don’t know that’s true.”

  “Well, he’s not here to ask, is he? So, either he’s dead, or he was in on it with security from the very beginning. Which do you think is more likely? How else would they have known we were there?”

  “Do you really think he’d betray his entire colony like that? Maybe it wasn’t him.”

  “Or, maybe he’s every bit the cold hearted bastard everyone else has proven to be lately. You’re always telling me I need to trust people, have faith in them. Well, I finally take your advice, and look where it gets us. Your ‘people are generally good’ philosophy sucks. It’s naïve and unrealistic. People generally suck, Peter. It’s time to grow up and face—”

  “Enough!” His voice is soft, but there’s frustration simmering underneath. “You can use your sarcasm and cynicism on everyone else, Leigh, but not on me. You can’t push me away. I’m not going anywhere.” Peter leans forward and rests his hand on top of my own. He’s frowning at me, but his touch is gentle. “I know you, Leigh. Probably better than anyone else. I know when you’re not all right. You’re hurt. You’re disappointed. I know you don’t really mean what you just said, or whatever you said to make Connor so angry. You’re trying to punish yourself for something that was not your fault. You want everyone to hate you because you hate yourself right now. Well, it’s not going to work. People aren’t going to hate you. They love you. You know why that is?”

  “Why?” My voice is barely a whisper as it squeezes past the lump forming in my throat.

  “Because you’re brave, and smart, and strong, and kind.”

  “Yeah, sure. That sounds just like me.”

  “You came back for me, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, but that’s because—”

  “You didn’t do it because you felt guilty, Leigh, or because you’re an idiot, or for whatever other reason you’re about to fling at me.” The mattress dips as he slides onto the bunk beside me. “You did it because you’re a good person, because you care, because it matters to you what happens to other people . . . because, despite claiming to hate humanity, Leigh, you actually just want everyone to be happy. That’s why it’s always pissed you off so much to listen to people complain about way things are. Because they were unhappy, and there was nothing you could do about it. You’ve always taken everyone else’s problems on yourself and wanted to solve them all—”

  “Peter, I never—”

  “—But, you can’t fix everything. Not on your own. You’re not alone here, Leigh, and not everything always has to fall on you, including the blame. Let someone else shoulder it for a while. That’s what I’m here for.”

  “Peter . . .” Tears clog my throat, threatening to choke me.

  “Leigh,” his voice is as soft as his hands are rough against my cheeks, “it’s okay to just let it go sometimes.”

  That’s all it takes. I can’t hold back anymore, and the dam breaks. Peter pulls me close to his chest and holds me tight while the tears pour down my face. Now that I’ve started, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to stop again. I haven’t cried since I was little, not when my dad died, not when my mom was taken away, not when I left Peter behind at that station, or got tossed in the camps, or left Lori behind at the mine, not when people were being shot down all around me, and not when I watched that hospital burn. But I cry for it now, all of it. My whole body is wracked with soul spilling sobs that I’m no longer trying to contain. Peter just holds me close and rocks me gently while my pain and sorrow soaks into his shirt. He doesn’t say that it’s all right because he knows that it isn’t. He just lets me get it all out, empty myself of everything I’ve been carrying around for years. It hurts. It’s physically painful to let it all go, but I do, and I keep letting it go for I don’t know how long. I don’t even notice when Peter lies us both down on the bunk and continues to hold me, but at some point I cry myself to sleep.

  Chapter 26

  When I wake again, I’m alone, but a blanket has been tucked around me. I feel hollow, completely empty, but not in a light carefree sort of way, more like I’ve been stripped of everything that makes me me, and left bare. I don’t know how to handle emotions. I never have. That’s why I bury them, but now they’re all riled up and I can’t hide from them. People are dead, a lot of people, and no matter what Peter or Connor say, it’s at least partially my fault. Yes, I had good intentions when I brought them there, but the road to hell and all that.

  The door
creaks open, and I’m almost afraid to see who it is now.

  “Hey, Girlie, how ya feeling?” Connor. I don’t deserve him. After the way I treated him, for him to come in here concerned about me . . . I don’t deserve that kind of friendship.

  “Connor, I didn’t . . .”

  “I know.”

  “I didn’t mean any of it. I was just . . .”

  “I know, Girlie. Don’t worry about it. We’re good. Besides, everyone’s entitled to a little mental breakdown now and then. Now, you’re just required to forgive me when I have mine later.” He’s joking with me. I know he means what he said, we really are good.

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “I know,” he laughs, exasperated. “What I don’t know is how you’re feeling.”

  “Well, I’m not biting your head off, so that’s a step in the right direction, I guess.”

  “Here. Maybe this will get ya another step.” He passes me a bowl of cold oats that actually manages to make my stomach grumble. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.

  “I don’t know what to do anymore, Connor,” I confess miserably when I’ve finished inhaling my meal.

  “Well, that’s what you’ve got me for.”

  “What?”

  “I took your advice and came up with a plan.”

  “Connor,” I groan at the reminder of my cruel words to him.

  “Kidding, Girlie, relax. Not about the plan though. I’m just not sure you’re gonna like it.”

  The last thing I want to do is talk strategy, but I did tell him to come up with a plan in not-so-nice terms. The least I can do is listen to it.

  “If we’re going to plan, then Peter should be here.”

  “I’ll get him. You stay put.” Connor snatches the empty bowl out of my hands, and the door is swinging shut behind him before I even register that he’s gone. Must be some plan.

  Concern is still etched into each of Peter’s features when he returns with Connor. I know I worried him. I think I may actually do that more often than I realize, and I feel bad about it. I try to smile to show him that I’m all right, but I don’t think he’s buying it.

  “What’s going on?” Peter takes a seat beside me, scanning me from head to toe as though he expects to find me cracked. I am, just not where he can see. “Connor said we need to talk.”

  “Connor has a plan,” I inform him.

  Peter looks about as thrilled to be talking strategy as I am, but neither of us disagrees.

  “All right, so here it is.” Connor drops down on the bunk across from us and cuts right to the chase. Something I appreciate. “We’ve been liberating camps from the inside, and recruiting reinforcements. I think we have enough to make our attack from the outside now. We have thousands of people here, most of them armed. If we attack a camp from the outside, it puts the unarmed workers inside at less risk, and should make it easier to overtake the camps with fewer losses.”

  I’m still too tired to deal with this. The words ‘attack’ and ‘losses’ are enough to drain me emotionally, and I just want to sag onto the mattress and sleep for another week and a half.

  “You’re talking about head-to-head fighting, with a camp’s worth of guards, without the surprise factor?” Peter clarifies.

  “Less surprise, more weapons, and their attention will be focused on those of us who have a better chance at defending ourselves than the unprepared people inside the camp. If the numbers stay consistent between camps, we should outnumber the guards at whatever camp we attack.”

  “What camp would we attack?”

  “Colony O. That’s where Reynolds is. It makes the most sense. Two birds with one stone. We free a camp and get our hands on the man in charge all at once. If we’re successful, we may be able to put all of this to an end with just one fight.”

  If being the operative word in that sentence. But Connor looks so confident—something I’m not ever sure I’ll be again—that I hate to burst his bubble. “I don’t know, Connor. Can we just think about it?”

  I have no intention of thinking about anything at the moment. First, I need to get some sleep and clear my head. Then, I need to figure out a way around this. I can’t have Connor and Peter both looking to me to make all of the decisions around here. Even with their help, I can’t handle that much responsibility. There has to be a better way.

  Neither of them looks prepared to argue, so we let it rest for now. Connor disappears to go do who knows what—I swear that guy never sits still—but Peter lingers in the dorm.

  “So, what do you think?”

  “About what?”

  “Connor’s plan.”

  “Peter, I honestly don’t know right now.” He hesitates, obviously trying to decide whether or not to say whatever it is he’s thinking. “What, Peter? What is it?”

  “You know I’m with you, whatever you decide.”

  “But?”

  “But I just don’t know if now’s the time to get gun shy. If you have a good reason not to support Connor’s plan, then fine, but if you’re just afraid to send more people out because of what happened back at D . . .”

  “I said I didn’t know, Peter. I’m not against Connor’s plan. I just need to get my head straight before I can really think about it.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” His soft tone threatens to break through my weary defenses again, and my throat swells dangerously close to suffocating me.

  He’s been burdened by enough of my emotions for one night, though. “I can’t right now.”

  Peter understands. I can tell by the look in his eye when he gets to his feet to leave me alone with my thoughts. “Just don’t forget, I’m here to help.”

  I haven’t forgotten . . . about him or Connor, but it’s still not enough. There’s just too much responsibility for even the three of us to shoulder together.

  ***

  A gentle shake rouses me. It’s darker now. After rubbing some of the sleep from my eyes, I can just make out Connor standing beside my bunk.

  Panic immediately blossoms. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, Girlie, but there’s someone here who wanted to see you.”

  I focus my weary, still swollen eyes beyond Connor, and notice someone standing near the door.

  “Hey, Kiddo.”

  “Lori!” I jump out of the bed.

  “Lori led the rebellion that overthrew the mines,” Connor informs me. Why am I not surprised?

  “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Yeah, well, what else was I going to do? When I heard about everything that was going on, about some girl who stood up to a guard and then took over a camp, I knew it had to be you, Kiddo. Who else would be that crazy?”

  I don’t bother pointing out how none of that was my idea. I just smile. I’ve missed her. Over the next few hours, we all get caught up. Peter joins us, and he and Lori really seem to hit it off, just like I knew they would. For a little while, everything’s okay again. By the time everyone else is ready for bed, I’m finally wide awake. Figures. As they settle in for the night, I take the rare opportunity for a little quiet time.

  A hush seems to have fallen over the camp with the darkness. Small fires burn here and there, and I can make out muffled voices from all over, but it’s still pleasantly muted. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I can actually hear myself think. And thinking is exactly what I need to do.

  If the weight of this responsibility is too much for just Connor, Peter, and myself, then I need to figure out who else to share it with. We can’t involve everyone. As much as I’d like to, the idea of trying to get thousands of people to all come to some kind of agreement is just insane. There is one thing each individual camp has agreed on—who they’ve chosen to lead them.

  ***

  The camp is divided into several sections. Each group of workers appears to have staked out space for themselves and stuck together since arriving here, creating mini communities amongst themselves. We may all be on the
same side, but we’re hardly a team.

  First thing in the morning, I make my way through each section, compiling a list of the people who led each individual rebellion. It consists of eight names, not counting Peter, Connor, and myself. There are Jessie and Thomas from the fishing camp, Sandy from the cotton farm, Allan and Kyle from the timber camp, Lori from the mines, and Julie and Jacob from the soybean farm. Of course the lunatic would need to be included.

  It takes a bit longer to actually round them all up, but once I do, I direct them over to the guard’s quarters. The ‘hospital’ space has been reduced to the rear sleeping area, leaving the front room available for our use. Jacob settles onto the couch beside Julie, scowling at me the entire time, like he can’t believe I had the audacity to summon him here. Or, maybe it’s the fact that he actually went along with it that he can’t believe. It would’ve been just fine with me if he hadn’t.

  “What are we doing here?” Jacob demands the moment we’re all seated around the room. Guess there’s no need for pleasantries, then.

  “I’ve asked you all here because each of you helped lead the rebellion for your camp. They see you as their leaders. “

  “And?” Seriously, this guy has less patience than I do, and that’s really saying something.

  “And . . . we want all of you to help make decisions around here. There are a lot of people out there, and no one person can control all of them. We can discuss our options, and decide together what we think is best for everyone. Then each of you will be responsible for getting your individual groups informed and moving when the time comes. I know it’s a lot of pressure to put on you, so if anyone wants to back out, now would be the time to do it.” I kind of wish someone had given me that option, but none of them takes it. “All right, then, our first decision needs to be made now.”

  I offer Connor the floor, and he does a pretty decent job presenting his plan to everyone. When he’s done, only two people are in disagreement, Kyle and Jacob. Although I’m pretty sure it’s not the plan Jacob has a problem with. Actually, I’m not sure what his problem is, but it seems to be centered on me for some reason. The thing is, this needs to be a unanimous decision. We can’t ask some groups to go and not others when we all stand to benefit from it.