“Breathe,” he whispers. “You’ve got this.”
“Shall we call this meeting to order?” The man speaking is sitting in the middle chair on the raised podium. He looks very distinguished.
I look around me. Men, women. Uniforms that I recognize, uniforms that I don’t recognize. And most of them are staring at us. I vaguely realize that Vera, Uriah, Manny, Andrew and Alexander are sitting above us in the spectator seats. Uriah nods, never taking his eyes from me.
The distinguished-looking man bangs a heavy gavel on the table in front of him and announces in a deep, baritone voice, “I hereby declare this California State Convention of Leaders open.” He pauses and scans the room with a fierce gaze. “My name is Robert Lockwood, and I am the presiding Speaker of the House, Pro Tem. We are gathered in this hall — in this building — to negotiate and formulate a plan of action against the invading forces of Omega.”
His voice is incredibly rich and deep. I watch him carefully as he speaks, looking for any signs of insincerity. It’s hard to tell.
“I want to extend a welcome to Colonel Rivera of the California National Guard,” he continues, “and thank him for his valiant contribution to improving the security of Sacramento.”
A short burst of applause echoes throughout the room.
I want to roll my eyes, but I don’t.
“And thank you — all of you — for making the journey here today,” Lockwood says. “You are all well respected leaders in the individual militias throughout the state of California, and your efforts to defeat Omega is appreciated more than I could ever personally express. You are the lifeblood in this war. You are the reason that we can meet here today.”
More applause. I study Chris’s face.
He is not impressed.
“Our strongest militia forces in California have been concentrated in the Great Central Valley and in the Sierra Nevada Mountains,” Lockwood says. “And for that, we have two men to thank. Commander Frank Hart of the Mountain Rangers and Commander Chris Young of the Freedom Fighters and the combined militia forces of the Great Central Valley.”
The applause is thunderous this time around. I twist in my seat, shocked. My father is standing near the back of the room, dressed in militiaman garb. He’s wearing the customary uniform of the Mountain Rangers — the six-pointed star stitched into his sleeve. We lock eyes and I feel the breath leave my lungs.
“Dad,” I whisper.
“Cassidy,” he nods, smiling.
There are tears in his eyes. But we don’t move. We can’t.
Chris smiles meaningfully at me. I barely manage to turn my attention back to Lockwood as he begins speaking again. My heart is racing in my chest. I feel faint, dizzy. I’ve been worried about my dad ever since I left Camp Freedom two months ago.
Thank you, God. Thank you.
Who else is here, I wonder?
“We might as well tackle the issue at hand,” Lockwood says, placing his hands on the railing in front of him. “The Pacific Northwest Alliance — specifically, Oregon - is moving in from the north and Mexico is pushing from the south. Omega is relentless in their naval and land attacks on the western coastline, but the Alliance has managed to push them out of San Francisco, and most of Oregon.”
Angela raises her hand.
“The Senate recognizes Commander Wright,” Lockwood says.
“What about Mexico?” she asks. “Where are they headed?”
“They have secured San Diego,” Lockwood replies. “The east coast is engaged in pitched combat. The United States military has amassed what forces they have left and concentrated on Florida, New York and Texas. Omega is sending an army from the east, and they will attempt to send millions more through the central valley.”
“We stopped their advance from the south,” Colonel Rivera bellows. “We can do it again.”
“We’ll need more than simple strategy this time around,” Angela says, leveling her gaze at the Colonel. She’s seated at a desk, legs crossed. Cool as a cucumber. “We are surrounded on all sides by millions of soldiers. We need manpower and firepower.”
“Which brings us to the ultimate question,” Lockwood replies.
The tension crackles in the room as Colonel Rivera glares daggers at Angela.
“Canada and Mexico have proposed an alliance with the state of California,” Lockwood announces. “Since the dissolution of the Federal Government, and until such a time as the reformation of the United States of America, each state stands alone. We make our decisions on our own. Oregon and Washington have already allied themselves with what is being called the Pacific Northwest Alliance. If we combine our forces with theirs, our chances of succeeding in stopping Omega’s advance into the United States — or at least the west coast — are significantly higher.”
Chris and I look at each other.
So this is what the big news is.
“An alliance is not something to be taken lightly,” I hear my father volunteer.
“Allying with another country — or in this case, two countries — changes the dynamics of our war,” Chris adds. His voice is strong and clear. I can’t help it: my heart swells with pride hearing him talk. “But in my opinion we can use all the help we can get. Face it, we’re fighting for our lives. Omega kicked in the front and back door, and right now is the moment of truth. We fight or we die. It’s as simple as that.”
“And what if Canada and Mexico end up turning their backs on us?” a woman in a Navy uniform asks. “What if we succeed in pushing Omega out and they decide to stay here?”
“What if Omega succeeds in invading our country and they stay here?” I say, standing up suddenly. My voice wavers for a moment. “Here’s the truth: Omega is going to destroy us. Period. We are doomed if we don’t get help. Grassroots militia groups and the remains of a National Guard force will only do so much. We need more than that.
“The survival of the only free nation left on the planet is at stake. Our lives are at stake. We have to get united on this. Right now, the only reason that we’re able to meet in Sacramento is because of what Canada and Mexico has done in the north and in the south. Without them, Omega would have held San Francisco and San Diego and we’d be pushed out of here, too.”
“How do we know we can trust the alliance?” Colonel Rivera growls.
“You’re a fool if you think that we can win this on our own,” I reply. The room falls silent. “We need help. Desperately.” I step into the aisle, overcome with a powerful urge to say what needs to be said. “Look, I’ve been in this fight since day one. I have seen what Omega has done, just like everyone else in this room. I saw what they did to the city I grew up in. And I’ve seen what they’ve done to my friends and family.” I take a breath and steady my voice. “I’ve held my friends in my arms as they’ve bled to death on the battlefield,” I say, softer. “I’ve seen children digging through garbage in the gutter just to stay alive.” I open my arms up. “And you think there’s some kind of question about whether or not we should accept help? We are dying, my friends. This is it. We won’t get a second chance. So make the right choice. For God. For country. Whatever it is you believe in. Please. An alliance will help us. Choose the destruction of Omega, because that holds the promise of freedom. This is the right thing to do.”
I clench my fists, the rush of determination making my speech bolder.
“I think it was Ben Franklin who said that if the revolutionary war heroes didn’t hang together, they would all hang separately,” I continue. “I’m not a great historian, but let’s look at the facts. If we don’t stand united, Omega will take us down. But together, we stand a chance. I choose freedom. I choose to fight, even if it means I might die. Because I won’t live like this, in Omega’s shadow. There’s too much at stake. Stand together. Right now, unity is our most powerful weapon. Let’s utilize it. We can do it.” I look at Lockwood. “We just have to make the right choice now.”