I fold myself against his chest, feeling completely secure in his embrace. Nothing and nobody can come between us now. Exhaustion, starvation, trauma — whatever it is that’s eating at my nerves — melts away. I close my eyes and, for the first time in a very long time, I sleep peacefully.
Yeah. Thanks Chris.
What would I do without you?
Now that I’m done hibernating, I feel like a new person. It’s amazing what a little food and water can do. To say nothing of clean clothes, an environment that’s not totally bloodthirsty, and fresh mountain air.
Oh, and then there’s Chris.
Did I mention him? I guess I did. I think I love that man.
I’ve been sleeping on and off for about three days. The exhaustion of slave labor finally caught up with me, and after a little bit of time living in a dark hole, sleeping and dreaming about goose feather pillows, my energy is back. Cassidy Hart has returned, people. And this time around, there’s no grouchy, mouthy Russian woman to push her around.
Chalk one point up to my team, please.
Today is the first day I’ve felt like exploring the campsite, and as I do, I learn a lot about the Free Army. There are elderly couples, singles, children and families here. Everybody contributes to the maintenance and survival of the community as a whole. Women and men share an equal work burden. The women keep the supplies organized and make sure the food is used in a way that will feed the most mouths. Men constantly scout the area, and there are guards posted around the campsite at all times.
And all the while, Chris is taking the liberated prisoners from the labor camp and turning them into new recruits. Sophia and I are sitting on a fallen log, watching him walk back and forth, talking to them. Both men and women are wearing clean clothes. Like me, they’re so happy to be freed from enslavement that the idea of joining an army seems like a great opportunity.
And, also like me, they might change their mind later.
“You know what I think?” Sophia says.
“Hmm?”
“I think Chris Young is way too old for you.”
I roll my eyes.
“Age is but a number.”
“Yeah, but he’s a lot different than you are. I mean, he’s all logical and mature and you’re…”
“I’m what? Illogical and scatterbrained?”
Sophia chokes on a laugh.
“No. I just mean you guys are kind of
different.”
“True. But we’re the same, too.” I pick at a loose thread on my pants. “Look what he did to save me. He took command of an army. How many guys would do that?”
Sophia shrugs.
“Good point. He must really love you.”
I lick my lips.
I’ve never heard Chris say those three little words to me before, but…that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love me. I think it’s obvious by the way he protects me that there’s more to this than a simple crush.
“Shall we join the army today then?” I ask Sophia.
She shakes her head. Sophia’s dark skin is a stark contrast to the green tee shirt she’s wearing. She’s got the kind of exotic beauty I always dreamed about. But really, who cares about stuff like that anymore? Being pretty isn’t going to keep my butt out of Omega’s crosshairs.
“Tomorrow. Let’s just watch,” she replies.
“Okay.”
Chris is launching into a lecture (I’m starting to wonder if he’s got a laundry list of inspirational speeches memorized) about the kind of commitment it’s going to take for the new recruits to join the Free Army.
“It won’t be easy,” he says. “In fact, it’s going to be the most challenging thing you’ve ever done. You’re going to want to quit. You’re going to want to surrender. You’re going to want all of this to disappear.” He pauses, stretching the moment. The crowd is hanging on every word that comes out of his mouth. “But in the end it’s going to be worth it, because Omega can’t be everywhere at once. Our job is to create enough chaos to make them want to leave our homes alone. We’re not a big enough militia force to meet them on an open battlefield. We don’t have the manpower or the firepower for that. What we do have is strategy, and something to fight for. This is our home, and you have to decide if you’re willing to sacrifice everything to take it back from Omega.”
He stops and clasps his hands behind his back, instructor-style.
“Can you commit?”
There’s a dead silence. Isabel clambers across the log and squeezes me into a playful hug, her eyes on the conversation going down in front of us. At last, somebody in line steps forward. “I can commit,” he says. He’s a tall, lean young man with a rifle slung over his back.
“What’s your name?” Chris asks.
“Andrew,” he replies. “And I’m in.”
Chris nods. A few other guys step forward and, after several moments, the entire crowd of ex-POWs takes one step, signifying their decision. My chest swells with pride — pride for Chris’s leadership, pride for the people willing to give their lives to take down Omega.
It’s a rush.
“Thank you,” Chris says, rubbing his chin. “My men and I will start training you. It won’t be long before you’ll be able to inflict as much damage on Omega as they’ve inflicted on us. It won’t take much to turn all of you into their worst nightmare.”
After a few more minutes of talking, Chris lets another man start speaking. I don’t recognize him. He’s tall, blonde and blue eyed. He looks young. His plaid button up is tucked into his blue jeans as he speaks.
Chris looks over at me, ghosting a smile.
“He’s got it bad for you,” Sophia grins.
I feel myself blushing.
“The feeling’s mutual.”
“You’d be crazy if it wasn’t.”
The blonde guy wraps up his talk, and then Chris is moving the group away from camp. I’m assuming they’re going somewhere to train. I stand up and stretch.
“We should train, too,” I say. “I want to help.”
“Me too!” Isabel starts walking back and forth on the log, balancing like a tightrope walker. “Chris says nobody’s too young or old to help win this war.”
Sophia winces at the word war. I don’t blame her. It’s a loaded word.
Small, but loaded.
“I’m going to grab lunch,” Sophia says. “Mrs. Young is making something. I can see her from here.”
“I’m coming with you,” Isabel replies, jumping off the log and taking Sophia’s hand. The two of them have become pretty close in the last few days. “Coming, Cassie?”
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.”
Something catches my attention at the other side of camp. Sophia and Isabel start walking towards the Young’s tent as I go the other way. A tall, powerful man with dark, cropped hair is standing with his arms crossed. He’s studying me. Judging by his appearance, I’m going to make an assumption: he’s ex-military. He has to be with his build, hairstyle and presence.
“Hey,” I say, approaching.
He cocks an eyebrow.
“I’m Cassidy,” I continue. “Are you helping Chris train the recruits?”
He shifts his stance, giving me a cold once-over.
“Ramos,” he replies, his voice gravelly. A smoker’s voice. “Alexander Ramos.”
“Oh, I know who you are.” I stop myself. “I mean, yeah. I heard about you.”
“Really?” He smells like smoke.
I furrow my brow as he pops a package of cigarettes out of his pocket.
“Smoke?” he asks.
“No thanks.” I watch him take a cigarette out. Light it. “Where do you get those? I don’t think they’re selling them at the local gas station these days.”
Alexander snorts.
“A lot of people leave them behind in their houses,” he says.