by Ann Pino
She walked through the darkness toward the latrines they had dug on their arrival, but found them inadequate and smelly. After glancing around for signs of danger, she struck out toward a line of overgrown hedges. She had just finished her business and was taking a few minutes to walk the hedge line and enjoy the peaceful night when a shadow detached itself from the darkness.
“What’d you think of dinner?”
Cassie sucked in her breath and was glad she had a pistol at her hip. “Good job,” she said. “I knew you wouldn’t need my help out here.”
“I didn’t need your help,” David agreed, “But I would’ve liked your company.”
“Why? When have we ever been friends?”
“That’s the problem. We should’ve been friends long ago.” He moved closer and reached a hand toward her hair, but recoiled with a scowl when she jerked away. “Don’t be prissy with me. You’ve already had one Kevork, so why not another? I can do things your goody boyfriend would never dream of trying.”
“I wouldn’t go to bed with you if you were the last guy on the planet. You aren’t fit to lick Jay’s boots.”
“I was thinking I’d like to lick something else.” He pushed his face close to hers. “But maybe you’re the type who likes to be forced, so you can keep pretending you’re a good girl who doesn’t really want to get laid.”
He grabbed her shoulder and Cassie felt his breath, hot and sour in her face.
“Is that the way you want it, babe?”
His fingers dug into her flesh and for a moment, Cassie went light-headed with fear. Then in a rush, her training came back to her and so did her confidence. “Get your hands off me.” With her free hand, she reached for her gun.
David grabbed her arm and they struggled in the darkness. Somewhere in the confusion, Cassie found an opportunity. She squeezed the trigger and felt the shock of the pistol’s kick, even though she couldn’t hear the shot for the rushing in her ears. David dropped her arm and stepped back in confusion. Cassie aimed and fired again. With a gasp of surprise, David fell bleeding at her feet.
EXCERPT FROM CASSIE’S JOURNAL:
I killed David. I had to do it and luckily we were far enough away from camp that no one heard. At first I was just glad I had done it and I waited for an opportunity to drag him into the latrine pit. But now that I’m back in my tent, I’m worried.
David’s foraging smarts kept the Regents fed, so I have a feeling there would be no sympathy for me if anyone found out. Considering what guys like Eleven do to girls like Rochelle, some would probably say I should’ve let David do whatever he wanted. Make him happy so he’ll keep finding noodles, canned beans, and stale ginger snaps. Take one for the team, and all that. But I won’t sell myself, not even for the good of the group. Is that wrong?
I’m glad David is dead, even if it means I’ll never have an answer for why he wanted to cause trouble for me and Jay. I may not be sure if Jay can be trusted, but it’s a fact that I couldn’t trust David.
It’s late and I should be trying to sleep. I won’t succeed, but I’ll lie here and close my eyes anyway. Any kind of rest will be good, since I have a big job tomorrow. It seems like I should write some sort of grand farewell—my final words of wisdom in case the worst happens. But I’m not wise and who would those words be for?
My best dream for the future of my journal is that it should end up in some enterprising post-Telo farmer’s compost. My thoughts won’t help anyone living in the future, but the idea that they might nourish potatoes, quince, or snap peas, gives me comfort. When all this is over, I’m going to find my family’s retreat, whether I’m cured of Telo or not. Asphalt and turf wars aren’t for me. I want to spend the rest of my life, whether it’s measured in days or decades, watching green leaves unfurling in the sun.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Cassie awoke to the staccato of the Operatic drummer’s warning, overlaid with the sound of trumpets blaring the call to arms. Cassie reached for her weapons in the dark. After checking that the boys and girls assigned to her were awake and knew their duties, she left the sergeant in charge and ran to her assigned rendezvous point.
She found the allied commanders in a huddle, discussing the arrival of the Pharms. Elissa was kitted out in a Napoleonic uniform, even to the impractical light pants, and Cassie’s eyebrows went up at the sight of all the grass stains. Judging from Mundo’s smug expression of ownership as he eyed Elissa’s rump, Cassie suspected there were new secrets in camp other than her own.
“The plan is the same as it was yesterday,” Julilla told the group. “We want to prevent them from setting up any major ordinance, but given the terrain and our present good position, it’s not wise to attack until after sunrise.” At Jason’s protests, she added, “Don’t forget they’re to the west of us. If we wait another couple hours, they’ll have to fight with the sun in their eyes. Besides, we need sunlight if we’re going to use your precious Fresnels.” She glanced at Jason’s legs, bare and pale underneath the skirt of his Roman general’s costume. “Nice legs, by the way.”
While Jason turned red and sputtered, Amy, arrogant in fatigues and an armband in the St. Catherine’s colors, agreed with Julilla’s plan, adding that it wasn’t good to change strategy because “the public school lowlifes” among them would only screw it up.
Cassie held her breath and was relieved when Julilla let the classist remark pass as if she hadn’t heard it.
“We need scouts to spy on the Pharms. We’ll need details of their number, their weapons, their setup, and how many Obits will be fighting with them,” Julilla continued.
This suggestion was greeted by agreement as to strategy, but everyone had an excuse as to why their own people shouldn’t be put on the task. Cassie was the only one who volunteered some of her team, a proposal Mundo nixed. Julilla had just declared she would conscript scouts if none were offered willingly when the answer to her dilemma strolled up to them, sleepy and yawning in the grim light just before dawn.
“Is this the strategy meeting?” Danica asked.
“It’s for leaders, not freaks,” Jason snapped.
Danica eyed his short skirt and sandals. “Then why are you here?”
While Amy giggled and Elissa and Jason glared, Julilla said, “Actually, I may have an assignment for you.”
“Not another one,” Danny protested. “We just wanted to know what the plan is, so we’d know if we had time to make coffee and have breakfast.” At the raised eyebrows all around, he added, “Don’t get excited. We brought our own.”
“Regents food always sucks,” Danica added. “And judging from last night, it hasn’t gotten any better now that it’s an allied project.”
Julilla held up a hand to forestall the firestorm that was sure to follow Danica’s remarks. “We need someone to spy on the Pharms and report on what we’re up against. You’re good at that sort of thing.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Danny said. After glancing at his twin for confirmation, he added, “But yeah, that would be right up our alley.”
“Pharms always have coffee,’ Danica reminded him. “If we steal theirs, we won’t have to use our own.”
“That’s right.” Danny gave Julilla a grin. “We’ll do it. Just tell us what kind of information you’re looking for.” Danica poked him and a look passed between them. “But we only steal coffee for ourselves. If you want caffeine, you’re on your own.”
* * *
Cassie spent the next half hour readying her troops in a weedy field with a service road behind it. They had barricaded the road the day before to slow down any enemy attempt at a flanking maneuver, but it also limited the possibility of retreat should the battle go badly. Then again, nearly everyone was at or near the Telo danger age. Without a life to lose and with a lifetime to gain, there was no reason not to fight hard.
She was scanning the horizon, trying to determine the time by the angle of the sun, when a boy ran up to her. “You’re wanted on the front lines, Cap
tain!”
Cassie started, still not used to being addressed by her new rank. “Do you know what for?”
“Parley,” the messenger said, then babbled a lot of words that made no sense, although they were all perfectly good English.
Cassie followed the boy to the front, where the leaders stood near Julilla, who was watching something through a pair of binoculars.
“Cassie’s here,” Mundo told her.
Julilla lowered the binoculars and turned around. “Your boyfriend is over there,” she said. “It looks like he’s with the parley group, and he doesn’t appear to be a prisoner. There could be an advantage to having you go with us to meet them.” Her grim tones softened as she added, “But we understand if you’d rather not.”
Cassie glanced toward the Pharms and Obits, who had arrayed their troops in the main parking lot. A knot of people had separated from the army and were walking toward them, carrying a truce flag. Fear and hope surged through her. Jay was with them! He was okay and she would actually get to see him!
“Well?” Julilla asked.
“Remember, he’s the enemy,” Elissa said.
“You owe him nothing,” Mundo added. “Come with us to the parley, but only if you can do it for the right reasons.”
Cassie swallowed and gave a faint nod. “I’m on your side, not his.” Unconsciously, she reached a hand toward her throat where she wore Jay’s diamond ring on a chain under her shirt. “Maybe I’ll notice something the rest of you don’t.”
Amy sniffed and Neal rolled his eyes, but Julilla nodded as if Cassie had said nothing unexpected. “We demand free access to the bunker,” she reminded the group. “We want a full accounting of the kidnappings and the motivations behind them. We want the bodies of any dead returned to us. And if there’s a Telo cure, we want it.”
“And the formula,” Mundo reminded her.
“For God’s sake, yes,” Julilla agreed. She scanned the group of leaders. “So are we all in? Have I forgotten anything? Good. Let’s go, and remember to stay on message.”
* * *
Cassie thought she had never seen Galahad look as good as he did that morning, tall, tan and powerful in his black Obit uniform and with his long hair ruffled by the morning breeze. He turned pale at the sight of her and she wondered how she looked to him now—well-fed and strong, her hair in braids and her face made up for battle with a blue swath painted across her eyes like a raccoon’s mask.
She barely heard the negotiations as they progressed from politely firm to mocking and hostile. The Obits denied there was a Telo cure in the bunker. The Pharms said the office park and surrounding countryside were their turf and to leave or face the consequences. Both groups denied any knowledge of the kidnappings, and Neal, who had lost a brother to them, had to be restrained from attacking with his fists.
“We know you’re lying,” Elissa told them. “Our spy who didn’t turn traitor,” she stopped to sneer at Galahad, “Told us different.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Galahad said. “Everyone knows Thespians say whatever will make the best story.”
“And everyone knows not to trust a Kevork,” Julilla countered.
While the accusations and counterarguments moved into high gear, Cassie caught herself staring at Galahad. Their eyes met and for a moment the world stopped on its axis. She loved him, no matter what he had done. What stupid sequence of events had put them on opposite sides like this? Why hadn’t they run away together, Telo be damned, when they had the chance?
Galahad made a small tugging motion at the cuff of one sleeve. It was a casual act, so subtle as to go unnoticed in the heated arguments swirling around them. But Cassie noticed and for a moment didn’t comprehend. Under the cuff of his sleeve was a patch of blue, but—
He dropped his sleeve and his features went blank as an Obit turned to him with a question. Cassie didn’t hear his response because suddenly she understood. He was wearing his Regents gauntlet. Did this mean he was on their side, after all?
As soon as she had his attention again, she unbuttoned the collar of her shirt, just enough so he could see the ring. She scanned his face for a reaction.
Galahad gave a slow nod and touched his wrist again. Then with relief in his eyes and a faint sly smile, he turned back to the conversation.
Cassie buttoned her shirt and pretended interest, but there was nothing more to be gained by the parley. They would fight, but Galahad was on their side. She couldn’t wait to tell Julilla.
* * *
“You expect me to change my strategy over what a girlfriend-killing traitor of a Kevork wears under his shirt?”
Cassie tried to stay calm in the face of Julilla’s contempt. “It was a signal.”
“A fake one, meant to exploit your soft-headedness for him.”
“He means it. I know he does.”
“It’s a trick. Can’t you see that?” At the look of defiance on Cassie’s face, she added, “Even if it is a signal that he’s on our side, what’s he going to do for us? Or can he do anything at all?” Julilla shook her head. “The plans go forward as previously agreed. If he does something on our behalf during the fight, great. But this is no time to be taking chances.”
Cassie turned away, annoyed, and tried to distract herself by watching the final preparations for battle. Each group had its own attire, from the bailiff uniforms of the City Hall group and the neat fatigues of the St. Catherine’s and St. Xavier’s students, to the animal skins of the Zoo Tribe. The Thespians were in particularly fine form, with the main body of their unit dressed for the Napoleonic Wars and their elite troops under Jason clad in the gear of the ancient Roman army. A girl from the Operatics strolled among them in a breastplate and horned helmet from a Wagner production. Her role appeared to be related to morale because at one point she stopped to sing to a group of late arrivals in Black Watch kilts.
Julilla followed her gaze. “This is turning into a fucking circus.” She glanced at the scaffolding where final adjustments were being made to the Fresnels. “They’ve got fifteen minutes. After that, if the sun isn’t at an angle that suits them, screw it.” Danny was nearby, having delivered a message just a few minutes before. She waved him over. “Go ask the spotlight people how much longer. Tell them we’re about out of time.”
Danny frowned at the rickety scaffold.
“Don’t say you’re scared of heights,” Julilla said. “I’ve seen your Spiderman breaking and entering tactics.”
“It’s not that,” Danny said, rubbing his chin. “It just looks like that thing is about to fall over. Very unstable.”
“So are we. Yell up to them, if you’re scared to climb it.”
“Oh, I’m not afraid.” He flashed a smile. “I’m worried for the safety of your people and equipment. I always land on my feet.” He strolled over to the scaffold and circled it a few times, looking for the best angle of approach. He avoided the ladder for reasons best known to himself, and began pulling himself up the network of bars.
“The twins make everything look easy,” Julilla observed to no one in particular. “Too bad they’re bat shit insane.” She turned away and went to meet Mundo, who was walking toward her with an air of urgency.
Meanwhile, a group of bored Pharms on the other side of the field were yelling and pointing at Danny. Someone grabbed a bullhorn and shouted epithets about the Human Fly, which Danny countered with a gesture that made it clear just what he thought of Pharms. The rowdy taunts grew louder and Sid stopped helping Griffin with a lens and leaned over the railing. Over the increasing insults from the Pharm front lines, Danny and Sid exchanged a few shouted words. Danny laughed at something Sid told him, then gripped a rail tightly between his knees so he would have both arms free to make appropriate gestures to his Pharm tormenters.
Danny didn’t notice the one who raised a sniper rifle to his shoulder, but Cassie saw and called to the allied front lines for a sharpshooter. She heard the shot before anyone could respond and wheeled abo
ut in time to see Danny fall.
While the Pharms cheered, Cassie shouted for a medic. She rushed toward him, with Julilla screaming at her to get back and stay out the line of fire. Cassie ignored her and dropped to the ground by Danny’s side. Now it was she the Pharms were taunting and someone fired a warning shot to tease her. She fumbled at Danny’s wrists, then his neck, searching for a pulse. By the time Danica appeared, wild-eyed and trembling, all she could do was shake her head and move a little distance away to give Danica space to grieve.
By this point Galahad, in his role as an Obit sergeant, had calmed the Pharms, no doubt telling them to save their fighting until they received orders. Now they watched in bemused silence as Danica keened over her twin’s body. But as her wails of anguish turned to screams of rage, they edged back from the front line, glancing at each other in guilty confusion.
Danica got to her feet and advanced on them. “Who did it? Come out here and fight me, you fucking coward!” She pointed at the nearest Pharm, a skinny boy with a crooked nose. “You! Did you do it?”
The boy’s eyes grew wide and he took several stumbling steps back.
Danica selected another target. “You. Admit it, chickenshit. Come out here and prove what you can do.”
Julilla appeared at Cassie’s side and gripped her elbow. “Get back to our lines. Now, while they’re distracted.”
“But she’s—”
“I know. Let her do what she needs to do.”
By now Danica had found her man—a brown, stocky teen with snapping black eyes and a mocking smirk. “Come out here and fight,” she snarled.
He drew a knife and made a show of examining the blade. “Go home and bake some cookies, honey, before you get hurt out here.”