Sophia’s expression is pure poison.
“You have no right to tell me how to feel or how to act,” she hisses. “I don’t care if you’re the chosen one or the freaking messiah of the entire revolutionary movement. You can’t help me. Ever.” She stands up. “You’ve made your choice. I’ve made mine.”
She shuts her medical kit and walks away. She converses briefly with Vera. They both look at me, then look away.
Sure. That’s right. Talk about me behind my back.
See how well that will turn out for you.
I stand and test my weight on my hip. Not bad. It’s sore, but it will heal — and hey. It could have been a fatal wound, but I got lucky. I’m still in the game. I approach Chris and place my hand on his.
“I want to take a team into the city,” I say. “Let me go instead of Sophia and Vera.”
Chris considers this. He knows that he cannot really stop me. I will go whether he wants me to or not… but I would prefer that he approve of my decision.
“You can go,” he says. “But with Sophia and Vera.” He looks at the woman who was once my best friend. “Both of you, same unit. Cassidy’s the Commander.”
Chris cocks a mischievous eyebrow, like he knows how much Sophia is going to hate this. I maintain a poker face and thank him, checking my rifle, loading up on ammunition.
“Be careful,” Chris whispers. “In and out. Don’t take any unnecessary risks. See what you see and report back as soon as you can.”
“I will,” I say. “See you soon.”
I kiss his cheek. He squeezes my hand.
“Cassidy,” he says, his voice low. So low that only I can hear it.
“Yeah?” I reply.
“I love you.”
A smile touches my lips.
“I love you too, Commander,” I say. “See you soon.”
And then I am off. Sophia and Vera are with me. There are about five militiamen with us. They are silent. I do not know them by name, but I have seen them in action often enough to trust them.
“This is insanity,” Vera mumbles. “We’re stuck on the outside of the safest city on the west coast.”
“Safe is a debatable term,” I say.
“You know what I mean, Hart.” Vera’s perfect blonde hair has fallen from its tight ponytail, hanging in limp strands around her sweaty face. “This was our last chance at rallying forces against Omega, and they’ve taken us by surprise.”
I don’t want to tell them my theory.
I don’t want to hurt them by making the situation worse.
So I keep it to myself. When we reach the city, they might see soon enough, anyway. There is nothing I can do to stop that.
We move through the woods, quiet and stealthy.
“So what’s your problem, Rodriguez?” Vera demands. “You’ve been a pain-in-the-butt since the Grapevine. Why are you even here?”
Normally, this would be the time where I jumped in to defend Sophia.
But Vera has a point.
“I’m fine,” Sophia snaps. “Shut up and leave me alone.”
“Don’t tell me to shut up, soldier,” Vera retorts.
Sophia swings around, stopping dead in her tracks. She takes Vera by the shoulders and shoves her backward, kicking her in the stomach. I am shocked. Not by the violence, but by Sophia. She has never been like this.
I am standing a little ahead of them on the trail.
“Stop it!” I command. “We’re on a mission. Both of you shut up and come on.”
Vera rises from the ground, clutching her stomach.
She shoots Sophia the most lethal glare I’ve ever seen.
The militiamen with me look to me for a signal. Should they interfere? I shake my head, no. Not yet. Not unless they pull out their knives and decide to duel. Until we reach that point… I can handle them.
We trudge to the top of the hill.
Vera is silent. Sophia walks on the other side of the unit, her face a mask of contained fury. At this point, I am so annoyed with her behavior that I’m about ready to kick her myself, but that’s not what she needs.
Sophia needs a new life. A life without bloodshed and warfare.
We all need that, I think. Until then, hang in there, kid.
We come to the crest of the hill, still hidden in the trees. Sophia stops and stares, and Vera takes a sharp breath. My hands falls limp to my sides.
“Oh, my God,” Vera breathes. “What have they done?”
The Monterey Peninsula is clearly visible from our vantage point on the side of the mountain. The warships have moved to the shoreline. They are anchored off the coast, and shiploads of troops are coming inland. They are moving like black ants, flooding the coastline. The beach is covered with them, an invasion force.
“Why aren’t we retaliating with cruise missiles?” Vera says. “The Alliance is supposed to protect us from this.”
I shake my head. “It’s too late,” I reply. “They’re already here.”
I watch the terrifying spectacle of the Omega troops crawling up the beaches and overrunning the roads. And in the midst of it all, downtown Monterey is ablaze with fire.
Chapter Fifteen
“Dad?” I ask. “Why is there war?”
I am ten years old. I’m kicking a soccer ball around the front yard. It is a bright autumn day. Even here, in Culver City, I can smell the quiet descent into winter. Fall is here, Christmas is coming.
“The current war?” Dad says. “Or just war in general?”
He’s ten years younger in this memory, hair shaved down, grizzled stubble on his cheeks. He is sitting on the front porch steps, reading the newspaper.
“Just war in general.” I shrug. “You know. Like… what’s the point?”
“Because we’re human,” Dad replies. “Humans fight. It’s what we do best.”
I kick the ball between two shrubs. Goal.
“But why do we fight, Dad?” I press. “Who was the first person who thought of killing somebody else to get what they wanted? It’s so weird. It’s so… wrong.”
Dad frowns. The headline of the paper is something dramatic.
Someone was killed on their way to work. Someone was kidnapped on their way home from school. A bomb was dropped somewhere overseas. A woman was assaulted. A man was robbed.
“It seems like only bad things happen,” I sigh.
I kick the ball toward the porch. Dad catches it under his boot.
“No, honey,” Dad replies. “There are bad people who do bad things, but there will always be good people to stop them. And that is why we have wars.”
I stare at him.
“That’s why?”
“Most of the time. Not always, but mostly.” Dad kicks the ball back to me. “Remember, Cassie. When you’re fighting, make sure you know which side you’re on. Know what you’re fighting for.”
“I will,” I promise, with all the enthusiasm of a newly minted soldier. “I’ll know.”
I kick one more goal.
Yes. I will know.