by A. S. Hames
I’ve thought back to Kim more than once. I think it’s all the death around me right now. Maybe I’m thinking I should make my peace with Kim’s spirit before I join her.
I haven’t honored her life, I haven’t mourned. I didn’t know her at all and now I feel bad because I care more about Jay than anyone in the world. Maybe a bullet grazed my brain. Maybe I’m nuts because she doesn’t know I exist. Okay, so she’s knows who I am, but… but what’s the point. I want to be with her, but she’s sensibly thinking more in the way of trying to stay alive. That kind of thinking doesn’t leave much room for any other kind of thinking, so why can’t I ignore her. Either of us could be dead any minute. So why should I care?
We’re being followed, that’s for sure. It’s impossible to see anything because the moon is lost to thick low cloud, but whichever way we turn, it’s not long before we hear them behind us. My compass tells me we’re heading east, but we’ve tried every other practical direction to shake them off without success.
More hours pass and we’re heading south with the first hint of daylight appearing in the east over the mountains. It’s barely a dull glow but it starts a distant bird singing. There’s also a squirrel or something active nearby. And again I think of Jay. She’s in my arms as we sit against a tree. The view is good. The sun is warm. And there’s hope.
JAY
All night, my guilt has plagued me. The lives lost are down to me. The lives about to be ended – those will be my doing too. I just wish I could see Ma and tell her how I didn’t mean any of it to happen.
As the light grows, I can make out friendly figures away to my left: Von with Dub, Taff, and Ben. Off to my right, there’s Tallboy, Ax, the colonel, and Sergeant Seven-Nine… and beyond him, the child-sergeant. Ahead of me, there’s a regular with the Representative and, ahead of them, two film people. We look terrible, although the Representative looks particularly exhausted after a night of crawling over rocks and dirt.
Sergeant Seven-Nine says how, in the old days, these mountains were full of elk, moose, and deer. Dub shares a cookie with Von. I take a drink of water from my flask. I wonder what will happen when full daylight reveals our position to the enemy.
Gunfire!
“Down!” the sergeant says, although he doesn’t need to tell us because we’ve all had the same idea.
The shots haven’t come from behind us, but more alongside. It would seem our pursuers have used the dark to gain an advantage.
More shots come in. One sounds like a speedy wasp zinging past my ear. Some of us shoot back. I bring my new weapon into a firing position. I suppose it’s all a matter of not seeing our attackers as people. More like devils from the underworld.
I aim in the direction of the enemy and squeeze the trigger.
Krak!
The gun reloads itself. It’s certainly a professional weapon. I don’t think I’ve hit anyone though.
“Keep going,” the colonel says.
With the light improving, and the way ahead looking okay, I continue moving.
Then there’s a gasp just ahead of me. The regular. He’s hit.
“Is he okay?” I ask. I don’t like the idea of us losing another real soldier and keeping, say, the Representative.
I fire a shot and move to the injured soldier. He’s been hit in the back.
“Keep moving,” he says. “You need to get west of here. There’s a wide north-south trail. I’ll hold them off.”
I stare at him for a moment. This will be his final act. He’s trying to help us get away. A soldier to the end.
I move. We all move. I’ve had enough of war. I’m going home to Forbearance. I’ll take my chances in the forest over the river with Ma and that bully, the one whose war experiences meant he came back changed. I think I understand that a little more now than when Ma told me.
“You,” the Representative says.
He’s looking right at me but I play ignorant and keep moving.
“You,” he says again.
“Who, me?”
“Yes, you.”
I find him rude. If you can’t be bothered to ask someone their name then at least think of a way of talking to them without calling them You.
“As of now, you’re part of my bodyguard team.”
“What?”
“Your duty is to protect me and see that I get to the Lake Towns.”
“I’m a wolf handler.”
“Good. The wolf can help you.”
I’m not happy about this. I don’t want to take orders from a man I detest. I know it’s fair in the sense that I’m the reason we’re in this mess, but how did he ever get to be a Representative of the Leader?
“You.” He’s calling to Dub. “And you three.” And now Tallboy, Taff, and Ben. “You’re my bodyguard team. Do as I say and you will be rewarded. Refuse and your families will pay a heavy price.”
I’m seriously hoping the enemy kill this stupid man. It may be our only chance of surviving.
Krak! Krak!
The wounded regular is firing on our behalf.
BEN
I reckon we cover two hundred yards before the shooting stops. The colonel takes a moment to use the spyglass.
“Fifteen of them, give or take,” he says.
“That regular,” I say, “he said we should head west to a wide north-south trail.”
“Roadway Five,” Ax says.
I don’t care what it’s called, as long as we get there. We have an uncomfortably short lead over fifteen armed killers and the terrain isn’t getting any easier.
We move off again – due west – over a ridge and down the other side. Then down a narrow valley and up the other side. And then along a ridge that takes us downward again.
We’re at this kind of activity until the sun rises over the hills. It’s real daylight now and our enemy is close. Ahead of us is open ground. To move into it would be suicide. To stay means a fight to the death.
The Representative looks to me, Jay, Dub, and Taff with Von.
“You there, protect me. You in front of me, you and the wolf to the side, you two behind. Colonel, you remain here and hold them off.”
Neither the colonel nor Ax looks too pleased. I’m not too pleased either. The Representative wants me and Jay to position ourselves behind him so he doesn’t get shot in the back.
“They’re not going to shoot you,” I say. “They want you alive.” Then I realize we could reverse his idea. “Maybe you could protect us.”
“Do you know who I am?” he says.
“Yeah,” Dub says, “you’re the one they want.”
“Do as you’re ordered,” the colonel says.
An air of resignation settles on the situation and we move out.
Krak!
The rebels are shooting again. We’re okay though. We’re on the move and, thanks to the colonel and Ax holding their position, our bodyguard team makes steady progress across the open terrain.
Except…
From behind, something sounds wrong. It’s the colonel and the rest of them. They’re coming too. It’s not fifteen men they were holding off. It’s more like thirty. Where did the others come from? Were they there all along? We run. My God, we run.
JAY
More shots are coming in. Someone’s down. I don’t know who, although it’s not the Representative because he’s in front of me. This is all his fault for visiting the north. It’s him they want, not us. Frankly, I don’t care if they put him in front of a camera and make him dance naked.
Krak! Krak!
Bullets hit the ground to my right. I veer left. Taff and Von do too. And so does the film woman. We’re now separating from the group and running for a rocky outcrop. We’re being chased. I don’t need to look.
“They might be after your camera,” I say. “Throw it away.”
“You might as well ask me to cut off my arm,” she says.
And so we continue to run, except now I hate her more than the Representative.
We
skirt the rock and find a downward trail. We slip and slide. It’s all the way down to a shallow creek. We charge straight through it. I know we’re being followed but they don’t shoot. Maybe they want us alive too. Maybe they know Von is symbolic. Maybe they want to film his death too. I feel like yelling that the Representative is the one they want.
We climb a bank and run. We’re through some bushes and into a clearing.
Is this my chance to disappear? All I need do is choose the right moment to slip away and any survivors will assume I’m dead. As plans go, it beats the hell out of journeying hundreds of miles to the Lake Towns trying to protect a big mouth tyrant.
So, I’m thinking.
“Taff, take Von that way – Go!”
They go.
The film woman and I continue straight on and I wonder if I have enough bullets. Then I see a big shack with windows. It could be a workshop. We reach it and look inside. There’s a big workbench and tools. We move beyond it, toward a number of squat homes. On closer inspection, they’re all empty.
“We can’t keep running,” the film woman says. It occurs to me that I don’t know her name. Maybe she’s too senior for us to know each other properly.
Up ahead, there’s a bigger building. We head for it and get in through the rear door. It’s a school room. Twenty desks. Much like my own in Forbearance. Through the window, I see three, four, five men coming into view.
This is bad.
We hide under the desks at the back and wait. I feel the gun in my hand. I’ll kill. No doubt about it. I will not be a coward. I’ll die like that regular. It’s a pity no-one will know, but I’ll know. If there’s an afterlife, I’ll be able to hold my head high. And if there isn’t, well it won’t matter.
Someone comes in through a side door. My heart thumps. My bowels rattle. A second man enters. My God. Death. It’s going to happen right here. I must be strong. I mustn’t cry. I’m almost seventeen-years-old, Goddammit.
“Get up,” a man says.
I remain stone still. I know the film woman isn’t about to move either.
“We know you’re there,” a second man says.
A gun fires into the ceiling. We’re almost out of options.
“The door,” she whispers.
I nod. It’s a better plan than staying. She tightens the camera strap, runs sideways, and fires her gun repeatedly. I do the same. It’s a noisy racket that makes the enemy duck.
We’re out of the building, firing our guns, and bringing a man down… and we’re across a paved area, behind a big shed, around a fence, and across a grassy play area. My God, children play here. I wish with all my heart I could play here. I’d play and play and never think about war. Although no one has cut the grass in months.
There are bushes ahead. We burst through them and struggle out the other side into four armed men. We halt, breathing hard, on our knees, with no options left.
“Well, hello,” one of them says like he doesn’t mean it. As if to back that up, one of his friends pulls out a knife that looks like it could cut a tree in half.
“Throw the guns aside,” the knife man tells me, “or I’ll cut your eyes out and eat them.”
I feel like I might panic, but we do as we’re told.
“Well, well,” he says. He’s eyeing the camera. “Looks like we’re gonna be on the screen.”
I knew that stupid camera would cause trouble.
“I reckon we’re too ugly for a film,” a man with a handgun says. “I reckon these ladies look more appealing.”
I feel useless. The man with the knife takes the camera off the film woman and films her. I don’t see where all this is leading, but one of them grabs her, pulls her to her feet, and tears open her blouse. I am mortified. I don’t wish to die and I don’t wish to see this woman suffer either.
“Stop that,” I say, rising to my feet, even though I don’t want to take her place.
One of them punches me in the face. I believe I go down at once because the next thing I know is I’m looking up from the ground with the taste of blood in my mouth. It makes me anxious. It’s also the first time I’ve been present at the full degradation of another person. It takes a moment for me to know what I have to do.
I leap up and charge into the man with the handgun. He stumbles backward and we tumble into a heap. I try to grab the gun. I have to get it. He pushes it out of reach. I hit him with my fists but I’m yanked away by my hair and thrown aside.
“My apologies.”
It’s another man, older, bigger. He’s handing the film woman her blouse and she’s happy to have it. I’m not too sure of the situation. Are we safe now? I suppose we’re not, because war always seems more likely to go bad than good.
“You two will be executed in a dignified manner,” this older man says. “We’re not savages.”
I feel my heart sink into my stomach. I knew it. I damn well knew it!
21. Rebels
JAY
I don’t know what to think or say. I don’t know what to do at all. The sun is dazzling me and making me sweat. I’m hot and sick and I’m going to die.
“You can’t,” I hear myself say.
“We’re good people,” the older man says. “I won’t allow prisoners to be wrongly treated. Now tell me – where is the Representative?”
“Where are the people who lived here?” the film woman says. “What have you done with them?”
“They ran off west. Now kindly answer the question. The Representative.”
“Why are you here?” she says.
“We are here because this is our land. At least it was until the Nation stole it. Now we’re taking it back.”
“No one need fear the Nation,” I say. I almost add that the Nation is Fair and Just, but I don’t think any of us would believe it.
“No one need fear the Nation? Is that so?”
He’s coming up to me. Face-to-face.
I gulp. “Yes.”
“So, my brother didn’t need to fear the Nation, even when they jailed him for keeping fifteen percent of the lumber his sawmill processed? Even though that fifteen percent was barely enough to trade for the potatoes, grain, and coal he needed to keep his family alive?”
I know what he means. “I’m a farmer’s daughter. I understand quotas and penalties.”
“My brother went to jail because the Nation, which we need not fear, took no account of the circumstances. Ten years in jail, they said. He lasted one. Does that seem fair to you?”
“No. No, it’s doesn’t,” I tell him. And that’s no lie. “These are the areas where the Nation needs to change.”
“Oh?” He laughs, but he cuts it off quick. “And who’s going to change it? You?”
“I think you should shut up now,” the film woman tells me.
She’s right. I need to think. There has to be a way out of this. Maybe our friends will come and rescue us, if they’re not all dead or lost in the mountains.
The older man takes the camera.
“The Representative. We know he’s heading to the Lake Towns. How’s he planning to get there?”
“I’ve nothing to say to you,” the film woman says. Her bravery is so impressive that I don’t say anything either.
The rebel leader doesn’t seem too troubled by it.
“Your deaths then. I’m sorry it has to be filmed, but it’s the only way we can show our people we’re making gains. You do it all the time, so I know you’ll understand.”
I do understand. It doesn’t help us though.
He studies our camera a little more closely. I try to get a sense of him, but my mind is all mixed up.
“Actually, this is better than ours. We’ll use this one.”
We’re hauled back to the play area and over to a children’s swing frame. It’s a big one, with its crossbar eight feet high. I have a bad feeling about how we’re going to die. It seems real and unreal at the same time. How can life just end? And yet I know it will. I want to cry, to blub, to beg, but I
know deep in my heart it would achieve nothing. It would only serve to show the rebels that the people of the Nation are weak. Even though weak is exactly what I am.
The men tie the swing seats aside and throw a rope over the top of the frame, tying it off at one end and forming a short noose at the other. One of them has a stool. Another grabs me and thrusts a cloth in my mouth. Oh my God. I struggle and spit it out.
“Don’t kill me! I’m on your side! I’m the spy who told you about the Rep…”
The cloth is stuffed back in my mouth. I try to spit it out again, but I’m hit, my hands are tied behind my back, and my mouth is taped over so I can’t yell anything.
They do the same to the film woman although she accepts it. She just looks at me, her eyes wet and resigned.
The older man is looking at me. He comes over and I can see he’s thinking about something. I stare at him, seeing my last slim hope flickering like a candle by an open window. I try to gain a sense of his emotions, but I just can’t do it.
He removes the tape and cloth.
“Speak.”
“We were in Endeavor,” I tell him. “Henry Crawford was hoping to be voted in as mayor. But he had a partner…”
“Colonel Rose,” one of the men says. The older man shoots a vicious look at him, but I seize on it.
“Yes, Colonel Rose.” God please let it be him. “I helped him escape and told him about the Representative heading for the Lake Towns on the train. I’m on your side. Please, let us go. Please…”
The film woman is looking at me with horror and disbelief.
The older man looks at me anew. “It’s true the information came from Endeavor. A radio message went out to all resistance groups between the Front and the White Tip Mountains. The message also said the mossbacks shot women and children.”
He’s eyeing my moss-green tunic.
“It wasn’t me. I didn’t shoot anyone.”
“How can anyone attack children?”
“I don’t know. When I finish school this year, I’m going to train as a teacher.”