Delilah
Present Day
“The least I can do is speak out for those who cannot speak for themselves.” –JANE GOODALL
The water is choppy today, the clouds dark, and I can’t help but feel like it’s an omen of what’s to come.
I lean over the ferry’s railing and heave for the third time, though there’s nothing left in my stomach at this point.
I barely had any breakfast to begin with, unable to tolerate much after the night of carefree drinking and the impending meeting today.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, accepting the water bottle Maverick’s holding out to me with shaky hands. I take a long swig before smiling weakly. “Thank you.”
He places his palm flat on my lower back, speaking low. “You don’t have to do this. Just say the word and we’ll turn around right now.”
I look up at him, hoping I don’t still look as sick as I feel. “Come on, Rebel Man. We both know that’s wishful thinking.”
Maverick brushes a damp piece of hair off my forehead, concern marring his brow. “Not for you, darlin’.”
I muster a half-hearted glare. “You would sacrifice everything you’ve built, everyone you’ve saved, just because I’m feeling a little nauseous?”
“In a heartbeat.” His lack of hesitation has my mouth hanging open before I remember my breath probably smells terrible.
I shake my head and close my eyes, taking deep breaths through my nose. “I’ll be all right once we’re on solid ground again.”
“Delilah.”
“What,” I grit out, trying desperately to keep my rising panic at bay.
“You don’t have to do this,” he repeats.
Everything I’ve been through, everything my husband—the man who was supposed to be my savior, my protector—has stolen from me, comes to the forefront of my mind. I roll my shoulders back and open my eyes, a fire alight deep in my bones. I turn to Maverick, my jaw set. “Yes, I do.”
His eyes scan my face, searching for any sense of doubt, then he nods once. “All right, darlin’. Let’s give ‘em hell.”
Benji approaches us on the deck, pushing his perpetually loose glasses up his nose. “Ready for one final check?”
I turn to him and nod. “Sure.”
Maverick leans down and kisses my temple before walking away, presumably to talk to Bec about some last minute details.
I didn’t try anything last night since I knew my efforts would be futile.
Instead, we laid in bed together with Zeus since neither of us could sleep.
We cuddled and talked all night, simply soaking up each other’s presence and stubbornly refusing to acknowledge our inevitable parting.
He told me about his childhood, his mom, how he planned to go to school for architecture before the Reckoning happened.
Eventually, I fell asleep to the sound of his voice, envisioning what life could’ve looked like if the Brotherhood never succeeded—what maybe it could look like again if we’re successful now.
I said goodbye to Zeus this morning, hugging his thick gray coat with tears in my eyes.
Somehow, with his constant, calming presence and sweet nature, he wormed his way into my heart without my even noticing.
Knowing I won’t get to see him every day only makes parting with his owner that much harder.
Benji’s voice is steady and sure as he explains the technology to me for what feels like the hundredth time.
“This button is a hidden camera. As we talked about, it’s possible they’ll check your person and force you to throw away everything from camp, so try your best to conceal it or retrieve it if it does get tossed. ”
I nod, trying desperately to recall the clothes in my closet that have buttons.
He holds up a tan colored earpiece the size of a pebble. “This is a two-way satellite radio on a closed frequency. Our comms will be encrypted, but only use it if you really need to reach us.”
“Got it.”
“This phone works the same way as the radio, except with texting. You can send us messages that will come directly to me without fear of them being intercepted.”
I pocket all three devices, distinctly aware of their weight in my pocket. I step forward and wrap my arms around his waist. “Thank you, Benji.”
“You’re welcome, Della.” He accepts my hug, folding his lanky arms around me in a brief, awkward embrace. He pats me on the upper back a few times before I pull away, freeing him from the physical interaction.
Bec is last to approach, her mouth set in a straight line that’s so unlike her usual, carefree grin it makes her look like an entirely different person. “You ready, city girl?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “I’m terrified.”
She nods. “You’d be an idiot not to be.”
A dry laugh barks out of me. “Gee, thanks for the encouragement.”
Her face remains stoic. “I’m serious, Della. A healthy dose of fear is what’s kept women alive for centuries. Too much and you’re paralyzed, too little and you’re easy prey.”
I nod. “I can’t believe I ever thought the Brotherhood were the good guys.”
Bec shrugs. “New Athens raised you. You were part of their first generation of girls they brainwashed into believing whatever they wanted. Preying on innocent girls with moldable minds is their entire business model.”
I exhale some of the self-loathing I’ve been carrying. “You’re right.”
A hint of a smile pulls at the corner of her mouth. “Of course I’m right.”
Another wave of nausea hits me as the boat skips over some choppy water. I sit and put my head between my knees, hoping to ward off another dry-heaving episode. “What if I’m not good enough?”
Bec sits next to me, arms wrapped around her knees. “You will be.”
My stomach knots as I look up at my friend. “Gabriel’s smart. I’m worried he’ll see right through me.”
She’s silent for a moment before she bumps her shoulder into mine. “Did I ever tell you about my nan?”
I shake my head no.
“God, she was a hell of a woman. She was a boomer, of course. Married my grandpa, had my mom and my aunt young and then ditched his abusive ass. She worked hard, went back to school and got her masters degree in human sociology. She taught at the local university for twenty years before she retired.”
I smile. “She sounds amazing.”
Bec nods. “She was. Strongest woman I ever knew. First person I came out to, too. She gave me a cheeky grin and said, ‘yeah, baby girl, I know. Don’t care who you love as long as you choose someone who treats you like the queen you are.’”
“That must’ve been validating.”
“Most affirming moment of my life,” she agrees. “She studied human behavior her entire career, even predicted the Brotherhood’s rise; said all those small changes would lead to catastrophic proportions.”
My brow crinkles. “How horrible to have that knowledge but not the power to do anything about it.”
Bec looks off into the distance. “She fought like hell to get people to listen, so much so that the university basically gave her two options: retire peacefully or be escorted off campus. She chose the former in order to preserve her name and the research she dedicated her life to.”
I rest my chin on my knees. “That’s awful.”
Bec looks back at me. “She died right before the Reckoning. As horrible as it sounds, I’m glad she didn’t live to see all this fucked up shit.”
“I understand,” I say, thinking of my own father.
Bec wraps her arm around my shoulders. “Nan always used to say the same thing to me whenever I was feeling down, or insecure, or sorry for myself. I didn’t really get it at the time, but now it’s sort of my mantra.”
“What is it?” I lift my head, attention piqued.
Her gaze is unwavering. “You must, so you will.”
The words flow over me and into me, wrapping around my very soul like an impenetrable armor. “I must, so I will.”
Bec nods. “Exactly.”
“I like it.” The smile I offer is weak. “Can it be my mantra too?”
“Why do you think I told you, silly?” She stands, extending her hand toward my seated, pale form.
I grasp her hand and let her haul me to my feet. I take a deep breath, feeling slightly better, both physically and emotionally. “Thanks, Bec.”
“Anytime, city girl.” She pulls me in for a hug. We squeeze each other tightly, both of us communicating what words could never say.
She was my first friend here. Her brutal honesty, coupled with her dry humor and genuine kindness, makes her easy to love, and I’ll forever be grateful for her willingness to take me under her wing and help me see the truth.
We both pull away sniffling. She rolls her eyes and wipes her tears, both of us laughing at our own emotions and instantly lightening the mood. “Thank you for being my friend.”
Bec shrugs. “You’re not so bad once you crack through that shell of propriety and haughtiness.”
“I beg your pardon, madam?” Hand over my heart and mouth agape, I feign offense. “Me, haughty?”
She snorts with laughter. “I shit you not, you talked like that a few weeks ago.”
I laugh too. “Oh, come on. I wasn’t that bad.” Bec stares me down, unconvinced. “Okay, okay, fine.”
We’re both still laughing when the ferry slows, coming to a stop at the Resistance’s usual port. It’s unmonitored, apparently, since there are no Brotherhood guards stationed here. Our laughter dies, the only sound now the whistling wind and the creaking of the ship.
Bec loops her arm through mine, a silent show of support as we head toward the van.
Bec and Benji climb into the back, where he’ll monitor the traffic and the Brotherhood’s movements via satellite to ensure we’re not walking into an ambush.
I hop into the front seat with Maverick, who starts the car while pointedly avoiding looking in my direction.
The rumble of the idling engine is the only sound in the cabin, aside from our breathing.
“Mav?”
His knuckles are white around the steering wheel as he stares straight ahead.
“Maverick?” I repeat, reaching across the bench to put my hand on his forearm.
At the contact, he finally turns toward me, an uneasy grin pulling at his mouth. “Yeah, baby?”
“You okay?” Seeing him unsettled—a man who’s always calm—is enough to put me off balance.
He looks away. “Are you feeling better?”
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “Are you?”
Again, he avoids my question. “You remember the code phrase?”
I nod. Anyone who’s part of the Resistance in New Athens will know the code words. “The flowers are beautiful this time of year.”
“The daisies are especially lovely this season,” he answers with the appropriate response. It’s ambiguous enough that no one would suspect anything suspicious if they overheard.
“Maverick,” I say again, louder this time, frustration mounting.
“I can’t!” he yells, startling me. “I can’t, I can’t—”
“Hey.” I crawl over on the bench and do the only thing I can think of to calm him down. Climbing into his lap and straddling his hips, I take his face in my palms. “Look at me.”
Chest heaving, his eyes scan back and forth between my own frantically. “I can’t do it—I can’t let you go.”
“I’m gonna be okay.” My thumbs stroke over his beard, hoping the repetitive motion soothes his nerves.
“What if you’re not? I won’t be able to live with myself if something happens to you.”
I shake my head. “I promised you that if things get too dangerous I’ll call you and you can pull me out. I intend to keep that promise.”
He studies my face, no doubt trying to decipher if I’m being completely honest, before he finally nods in acquiescence. “Okay.”
I lean forward, pressing my lips to his in a gentle kiss. His large hands frame my waist, pulling me closer to him as the kiss quickly becomes heated. Mouths parted, we share breath as our tongues dance together. My hips grind against his, my body seeking friction of its own volition.
A loud bang from the back of the van jolts us apart. “Any day now, boss.” Benji never says anything without reason, so we likely need to move to avoid a patrol.
With one final kiss on the tip of his nose, I climb off his lap and get back in my seat, fastening my safety belt and looking straight ahead as Maverick puts the van in drive. “Where are we?”
“Near the border. The Brotherhood doesn’t have any bases this far north, so it’s rarely patrolled.”
We drive in silence for a while before turning off the main road and onto a gravel path.
Maverick tells me this used to be the access road to a bunch of different hiking trails, but since the Brotherhood chooses to allocate their resources elsewhere, forestry maintenance has fallen to the wayside.
Even in its overgrown state, he clearly still knows the way to wherever we’re going.
As hard as I just worked to convince Maverick that I’m feeling fine, doubt creeps in.
The more we drive, the harder it is to breathe.
It’s like Gabriel has his hand around my neck, squeezing tighter and tighter the closer we get—like he’s cutting off my oxygen, even from a distance.
My fists clench hard in my lap, so much so that I can feel my nails breaking through the skin on my palms. Maverick reaches over without a word and grabs my hand, bringing it over to his side of the cabin.
He kisses the back of my hand and holds it in his lap so I can’t hurt myself. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” he says, slowing down to avoid a particularly large dip in the road.
His touch calms me enough to think clearly again. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Anything.” He squeezes my hand.
“When we get there… I mean, when I’m with Gabriel…” I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words.
He brings our clasped hands to his mouth and kisses the back of mine. “Take your time. There’s nothing you could say or do that will change how I feel about you.”
I turn my head to look over at him. “I might do or say things that are hurtful to you, but it’ll all be an act. I just need him to think the last few weeks have been torture, when in reality, they’ve been the best weeks of my life.”
“I know, darlin’. And the same goes for me. Whatever we have to do to pull this off, we’ll do it.”
I exhale in relief knowing we’re on the same page, though my stomach is still a tangle of knots. “How much further?”
“Not far now.” He stops the van so I can trade places with Bec. I climb into the back and she takes my spot up front, all of us prepared to put on the performance of a lifetime.