Chapter 9
Shortly after the Fall, after the asteroid strike threw every world population into upheaval and altered the climate with devastating impact, a military leader named Patterson took charge and made himself president.
He consolidated power in the Capitol, which back then was just another mid-sized city, providing protection and rebuilding infrastructure with more success than anywhere else on the continent.
Every town in the region quickly submitted to his authority, and within several years all the nearby cities did as well.
Patterson governed like a military commander.
Any hint of a challenge was dealt with immediate ferocity.
He instituted a practice of indentured servitude for everyone who had no useful skills, and entire villages who didn’t fall in line were rounded up to be “imprisoned”—which meant they were never seen or heard again.
I was in my teens when Vincent ousted Patterson as president, so I well remember the universal rejoicing at the new, better world that was supposed to come from the change in leadership.
Some things did change. Indentured servitude was done away with.
There were no more open atrocities by the government.
No more villages wiped out. The new technology introduced at the time made travel and the running of households easier, since the solar batteries provided power instead of dwindling fossil fuels.
But the heart of the government never changed. It merely put on a nicer face. Anyone who questioned the government was still silenced with speed and ruthlessness, but it was done in secret. And every decision made—no matter how heartless—was given some sort of political cover.
That’s the world we’re still living in now. No better than the cruel leadership of Patterson but wearing the mask of justice and mercy.
For a few months after Ben and I returned to the Central Cities from the wilderness six years ago, we traveled—keeping to the small byways and avoiding the larger cities.
We found an abandoned motor that Ben was easily able to repair.
So after spending some time visiting Teresa and her family, we went from village to village, pretending to be traders, getting a sense of the peoples and culture in various regions, and keeping an eye out for rebel activity.
There was a lot of grumbling discontent but almost no direct action. After decades of being beaten into submission, most people were afraid to speak out.
And who can blame them?
My father was killed because he tried to speak out, and he’s not the only one.
So my travels with Ben back then were bleak and depressing. Nowhere within the borders were people free or genuinely happy. I still felt the impetus to do something, to act against the oppression the way my father did.
But what the hell could one small woman do, even accompanied by her dependable muscle?
One afternoon we were driving toward another village in the east, cresting a hill that looked down at the small settlement. As we got closer, something felt wrong.
I didn’t know what. We couldn’t see clearly enough to see details in the village.
But my instincts were clanging loud, so I reached over to put a hand on Ben’s arm. “Slow down.”
He glanced over, applying brakes immediately.
“I don’t know,” I said, answering his silent question. “Something is wrong down there.”
By then, Ben had become my best friend, and I trusted him implicitly.
And one of the best things about him from the very beginning was that he also trusted me.
Without questioning further, he drove us close enough to get a view into this side of the village.
Then he pulled off the road where some trees could provide cover and parked there.
We got out, and he scanned the view with his binoculars.
“Village check,” he said, passing the binoculars over to me.
I peered through the lenses and could see the Central Cities guards on the streets, going house to house in what was supposed to be a harmless, routine review of structures.
These village checks were always lauded as a good thing. The government would make note of houses and buildings that needed repairs or improvement and provide supplies to fix or upgrade them.
The reality was far more intrusive and predatory than that. They were used to root out troublemakers. Everyone I’ve ever known dreaded the periodic village checks, even if they never broke a single law.
“Shit,” I said after looking for a few minutes. My heart was started to hammer even though we weren’t even close to what was happening down there.
I passed the binoculars back so Ben could see a few guards dragging two people out of one of the cottages on the outskirts of the village.
It was a woman and a man, and they were fighting back. The woman was strong, and it took three guards to hold her down.
When Ben gave me back the binoculars, the guards had the woman pinned on the ground, and they were actively beating the man.
“What the fuck is going on?” I muttered. “This is right out in the open.” Villagers were starting to gather. Watching. Clearly in distress. But none of them dared to move against the guards, even to protect their neighbors.
“They only do this when people fight back. It was probably a small offense, but those folks resisted.”
I focused on the woman’s face. She looked like she might be around forty. A plain, broad face and short hair. Strong body like she worked manual labor. I couldn’t hear anything, but it looked like she was shouting as she flailed against the guards holding her down.
It was terrible.
Terrible.
That this was our world. And that there was nothing to be done. The injustice of it—and the despairing helplessness—surged through me in tense waves.
I felt exactly like that woman down there. With a bone-deep need to act, to fight back, but trapped by forces stronger than me.x
“We can’t do anything, Annabelle.” Ben’s voice was low and slightly rough. “Let’s go back and circle around the village so we don’t encounter any perimeter guards.”
“But—”
“I’m sorry. I am. I hate it too. But what the fuck can we do? We’re two, and there are two units down there. A dozen guards.”
He was right. Of course he was right. Any sense would dictate the need to get away from what was happening down there.
But I couldn’t.
Every impulse in my body was fighting retreat.
“We can take them by surprise,” I said, scanning the area around the village for vantage points. “We can shoot long range. We could take out most of them before they even figure out where the shots are coming from.”
Ben started to object. I heard the beginning of a gruff word. But he swallowed it down and accepted the binoculars I passed back to him. He gestured toward a tall tree not far from the cottage where the couple were dragged out. “There.”
I nodded and pointed him to an old pre-Fall abandoned structure with a second floor. “And that might work.”
I could see the internal struggle on Ben’s face until he finally made a decision. He nodded. “Okay. The tree is safer. You’re taking that. Shoot as many as you can. If they start coming after you, you run back to the motor and you don’t stop.”
I was excited. Thrilled. To finally have some way to act. So I wasn’t angry at all as I asked, “Are you actually trying to boss me around?”
“Just give me this at least.” His eyes were glinting with ironic amusement, even though he was also tense and nervous. “I started out as your bodyguard, you know, and it’s hard to fight the urge to throw myself in front of a bullet for you.”
I huffed out of laugh and squeezed his arm. “I’ll be careful. I promise. Now hurry. They’re going to kill that poor man in a minute.”
We both ran in different directions, and I scrambled up the tree with my rifle as quickly as I could. By the time I got a stable position, Ben had already shot the guard kicking the man. I aimed and shot one of the guards holding down the woman.
The guards were shocked. Confused. They aimed their weapons in all directions trying to figure out where the attack was coming from. Before they could make any sense of it, Ben and I took out eight of them.
The woman on the ground had gained her feet by then. She grabbed one of the downed guards’ weapons and shot two more of them as Ben and I took out the remaining ones.
A few minutes later, Ben and I were approaching on foot.
Most of the village was gathered now, but not a single one of them made a move on us.
The woman was kneeling next to the beaten man, who was bloody and unconscious.
“Thank you,” she said as we approached. “I don’t know who you are and why you did that, but we’re forever grateful.”
“Why were they trying to take you?” I asked.
Ben was watching the crowd of villagers, but no one looked suspicious or angry. They didn’t support what the guards were doing here, and they wanted them stopped as much as we did.
“Will has a daughter in another village, and she’s allergic to milk so she needs special food. He was using some of our earnings to get her what she needs, but that meant he was shorting the government’s take.”
Of course it was that. The government would never make public show of rebellion. But if someone was cheating them out of profit…
“They were arresting him. If I hadn’t fought back, they wouldn’t have gotten so violent, but I couldn’t—” Her face twisted. “Everyone knows what happens to people who get arrested. I never would have seen him again.”
“No. You wouldn’t.” I glanced up at the sympathetic, murmuring villagers, and I was suddenly scared for them.
“Listen,” I said, thinking quickly. “None of the guards survived this, so their leaders won’t know exactly what happened.
Blame us. They found nothing in this village suspicious and were leaving when they were attacked by strangers. No one here was involved.”
I was speaking loudly so everyone would hear. The murmuring shifted into something that sounded relieved, since this story would save them from possible repercussions.
“Describe us however you want, but make sure you stick to the same story. Traveling outlaws did this. No one in the village did.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Bring him inside,” I told her before I looked back at Ben. “Do you think we can move the bodies and clean up the scene here to support the story?”
“Yep. We can do that.”
I didn’t expect anyone from the village to help us, but several of them did. We dragged the bodies farther from the settlement, positioning them on the road in a way that would be believable for an ambush.
“We need to get out of the area,” Ben murmured when we finished. “When they don’t report in, someone will come to check what’s happening here.”
“Yeah. You all should be okay as long as you stick to the same story.”
“We will. No one here sides with the guards—in any situation for any reason.” That was the woman whose brother we saved. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad we could help. Stay safe.”
I was about to leave with Ben, who was starting to bristle with impatience, when the woman said, “How can I find you?”
I glanced back at her, confused.
“I need to make sure Will is okay but then… I want to help. I want to do what you do.”
My heartbeat had finally slowed down, but now my chest felt tight. Full.
Right.
Like I knew exactly what I’m supposed to do—finally, at last.
Ben and I could keep doing this. Helping people who need it. Finding those who want to share our fight. Opposing oppression wherever we find it.
“We’ll come back this way in a couple of weeks. We’ll find you.”
The woman nodded. Smiled. “I’m Vella. I didn’t know it until right this moment, but I think I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”