Within all of Rupert’s anger, the desire for something better existed. Xavier just needed to stoke that fire and not let up. He hated it, but Rupert could prove invaluable. Absolutely, without question, Rupert could make this happen. It’s possible that Sam might make that decision, the right decision on his own, but it wasn’t guaranteed. With the letter and Rupert, it would be.
Many minutes had passed since Rupert pulled the cart to the other end to begin filling the ditch. His shoveling was slow going, and it annoyed Xavier. At this rate, they would be sleeping out here. How does he get this done every day? Screw it. He took the long march over to Rupert and snatched a shovel from the cart.
Xavier had never noticed it before, but being this close to Rupert made it obvious. It seemed that he was constantly running a narrative. Not necessarily detailing his happenings, but just talking to himself. Xavier couldn’t make out much. A few words here and there made it obvious he was mulling over what Xavier had said—what had been pointed out as fact.
He began assisting Rupert with the trenches. With his first bucketful, the smell of excrement was overwhelming. He slipped the gray t-shirt from his back and tied it around his nose and mouth like Rupert’s bandana, but it didn’t help.
“I can still smell it.”
“I know. It’s to keep it from getting in your mouth and nose.” Rupert went to take Xavier’s shovel. “I got this. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Xavier stepped away from him. “It’s shoveling I think I can handle it.”
“You just want in?” He motioned toward the front of River’s Edge.
Xavier nodded.
Rupert swiped the shirt down from Xavier’s nose. “Let’s go.” He took the shovel from Xavier and leaned it against the cart, along with his own. “I want to get my stuff done.”
The two of them walked along the perimeter of the fence—Xavier entangled within his t-shirt as he tried to pull it over his head. He tripped a bit over the uneven ground while trying to keep pace with Rupert. They were just beyond the Sentry’s view. Rupert looked back to him. “Just walk behind me, and I’ll get you in.” They turned the corner, and Rupert shouted for the Sentries.
Matt looked over his shoulder. “Xavier?” He rushed over, his arms swallowing Xavier whole. “Hey, man!”
“Easy, easy.” Xavier gasped for air.
“Worried sick man. When Grant came back without you I thought you were a goner. I tried to go out with the search team, but they just laughed.”
“Did they come back with anything?”
“No idea. Not sure they’re even back yet. You’re okay though?”
“Yeah, long story. I’ll catch you up when we get a chance.”
“Right now’s as good as any.”
“Uh…” Xavier caught Rupert glaring at him from over Matt’s shoulder. “Sorry man. I can’t right now. I’ll get with you. Promise.”
“I won’t be much longer with this.”
“I have something I got to do.”
Matt looked oddly at Xavier, perhaps trying to see if he was really okay.
“I’m good,” Xavier assured him. “Is Jenny okay?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
Good. “Nothing. I’ll get with you later.”
Xavier and Rupert stood in front of the school’s entrance. The doors shook and groaned once again, opening for what the Sentries had to have hoped would be the last time for their shift.
“Good luck,” Rupert said.
As Xavier stepped through the gate, he paused, watching Rupert return to the ditches, wondering if it was help that he offered or only luck. Why would he say that? Rupert had taken a stance of neutrality, denouncing the Second Alliance, but not going far enough to do something about it.
He could have. He could’ve walked through the gate with Xavier. He still could decide to help. There was nothing to stop him. If he wanted to do the right thing for Sam, he would. For now though, it would only be the luck that Rupert offered. It was something, and Rupert seemed sincere. The calmness with which he said it put Xavier at ease. It was strangely reassuring. Maybe if Rupert could be inched along toward the right thing, others would follow.
Chapter Nine
Xavier guided his fingers across the cornstalks—the field teeming with the late summer harvest. The women and children busily plucked the bounty while singing. Old grocery baskets overflowed with ears of corn. A woman swatted the hand of a child. “That’s enough in that one.” The child pouted, her lips quivering, but no tears. She ran for another basket, cutting Xavier off, and then disappeared into the thicket. The woman caught his eye and shook her head, snickering to herself. “Kids.” She resumed her singing.
Her song, joined in by the others, filled the air inside the walls. But would it last? The happiness that rose from their melody inflated their spirits. But these folks had no idea what was coming. Most of them had no idea what happened to Sam. They just sang, completely ignorant, blissful in the deception. No idea that the whole thing would be flipped upside down. It was going to be a painful truth.
As the song continued to pour into his ears, he became frustrated. He wanted to shut them up. Shout out the truth—that the Second Alliance attacked them, killed them, were taking over, but he decided against it for now. The pieces weren’t in place yet.
It wasn’t their fault. Xavier hadn’t known either. It was just mild skepticism at first. Only while holding Haverty’s letter in his hands, did he know with any certainty. These people don’t deserve what’s about to happen. The Second Alliance had nothing invested in River’s Edge besides terror. No blood. No sweat. Only a simple plan to deceive them into servitude.
They really were quite clever. To make it look like it was the town’s own decision to take their help—the difference between turning down their protection and begging for it, unknowingly sealing the fate of everyone. He couldn’t stand to stay and listen to their joy. It ate away at him that he couldn’t let them know yet. Xavier pushed his way through the remainder of the field and slammed the door leading into the halls. It was just too much. I have to find Sam.
His heart sank immediately upon setting foot within the school. A set of eyes set directly upon him. It was the one. The one that struck Sam. The monstrous being stood just before him—above him, around him—clearly perturbed by Xavier’s actions.
“Is there a problem?” He could speak.
Xavier couldn’t. Petrified, he simply creaked his head from side to side. Wide-eyed, mouth open. Oh, Shit. He could feel a cold sweat moving below his clothing. The seconds grew into a minute of silence, simply standing there, trying to avoid eye contact. The iron man wouldn’t move—didn’t for whatever reason. Xavier was clearly intimidated, cowering in his presence. What more could he want? Did he know? Xavier didn’t want to believe that Grant floundered in his explanation.
“Watch it.” He gave Xavier a slight push.
A nod was all he could bring forth. Xavier waited momentarily, hoping the Soldier would move first, but he didn’t. Neither wanted to show their intended path. He sidestepped, pressed between the wall and the black uniform, cautiously resuming what he set forth to do.
Xavier could feel him watching every one of his steps until the corner was rounded. This game was getting old. What does he know? A brief moment with his back against the cement blocks, just a moment, and then he doubled back. The Soldier was gone. It was nothing. What is going on? A misunderstanding? He couldn’t risk it. Maybe they did know. Xavier rushed toward his living quarters.