Chris gives me a proud look.
I know. I made an intelligent statement. Go figure.
“No,” Dad says firmly. “We do not need to go around experimenting with different forms of government. That could set us up for total destruction.”
“Oh? So where are we right now?” I ask. “Last I checked, total destruction was already here. In case you hadn’t noticed, China is sending a million man army to the west coast and every major city from here to New York has been bombed.”
I immediately regret snapping at my father. But I can’t help it.
Can’t he see that he’s wrong?
“The girl has an excellent point,” Commander Jones adds. “Frank, we’re not saying to install a new system. Just an updated one. One that’s written with the knowledge of people who have seen the previous weaknesses and want to correct them…”
The men drone on and on, arguing back and forth over the issue. Frankly, it all seems a little bit stupid. Shouldn’t our focus be fighting Omega? What good does it do to talk about the aftermath when we’re barely keeping our head above the water right now?
After an hour, the men are all but choking each other out, shouting and pounding their fists on the wall. Dad is one of the worst, fingers clenched around the edges of the table, a vein throbbing in his neck.
Finally, Chris speaks up.
“This is irrelevant,” he states.
Dad explodes, setting his laser-like glare on him.
“What do you mean by that?” he says. “This is necessary. What happens when—”
“—I understand that,” Chris interrupts. “But the fact of the matter is that we haven’t won this war yet. We’re walking the razor’s edge every day. Our focus now should be survival and combat strategy. We need to win this war. That is our priority. When the time comes, we can worry about rebuilding our infrastructure.”
“No. We need a plan,” Dad insists. His eyes flick to me.
“Sorry,” I shrug. “I agree with Chris on this one.”
Why do I feel so guilty saying that?
And that’s when I hear the sirens.
Chapter Six
Fear surges through my veins.
Sirens.
The last time I heard sirens was when I was imprisoned in a slave labor camp. I flinch and stand up, a sudden silence falling over the room. Angela freezes. Even Dad appears to be caught off guard.
“What does that mean?” I breathe.
Angela leans back, a slight smile on her lips.
“Manny’s back.”
“Manny? Who’s Manny?”
Angela tilts her head.
“Vera, take Cassidy to meet Manny.”
She nods. I don’t move, confused.
“Wait… where am I going?”
“Just go with Vera.” She tilts her head. “Go on. Enjoy yourself.”
Enjoy myself? Seriously?
Chris starts to stand but Angela places a hand on his forearm.
“No, you need to stay,” she says. “We need you in this discussion.”
But apparently they don’t need me.
Vera heads towards the door.
“Come on, Hart,” she says.
I sigh, locking gazes with Chris as I exit. When we step onto the porch, I chew on my lower lip, self-conscious standing next to Vera in the sunlight. Where I’m covered in scars and freckles, she’s perfect. Where my hair looks like the TV commercial for a chia pet, hers looks like a salon advertisement for Vidal Sassoon.
Figures I’d get stuck with her.
I take a deep breath, suck up my pride, and say,
“So where are we going?”
“To meet Manny.” She walks down the steps and I follow, cutting a beeline across the entrance road. The siren has stopped, and I notice quite a few people heading in the same direction that we are.
“Who’s Manny?” I press. “And why does he have a siren?”
“He doesn’t have a siren,” Vera snorts. “It means he’s coming.”
“In what? A tank?”
She gives me a weird look.
“It’s a joke,” I say. “I was making a…. never mind.”
Vera takes a right, heading towards the barracks.
“So…” I begin, stuffing my hands in my pockets.
“So nothing, Hart,” Vera snaps, whipping around. Her blue eyes are sparking, her cheeks flushed with color. “This is my home, and you are not going to take it away from me.”
I blink a few times.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I reply, surprised.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She folds her arms. We’re both standing in the middle of the road. An epic stare down. “There aren’t any female leaders in the camp besides my mother and I. Don’t mess with us.”
“I’m not here to mess with anybody.”
“I’ve heard all about you, you know.” She does a quick once-over of my appearance. “I was expecting somebody a little more…intimidating.”
Tiny but mighty, I think, remembering a long-ago conversation I once had with Chris about my height. What is her problem?
“I didn’t come here to challenge anybody’s position of authority,” I state, fighting the urge to land a good kick to her chin. That would be very unladylike. “I came here because Omega killed a lot of our men and we needed a place to stay. Period. If you think otherwise then you’ve got a problem.” I walk around her. “Let’s go see Manny.”
Dead silence. A few beats later she yanks on my arm, jerking me to a halt. I instinctively spin and snap her arm into a painful wristlock. I’ve lived in a warzone far too long to react in any other way. She glares at me, wincing. I release her arm and take a step backward, raising my hands.
“You’re not on edge, are you, Hart?” she grits out.
“Don’t ever do that again,” I state.
“I will be watching you,” she warns. “Both of you.”
“Leave Chris out of this.”
“Chris?” She rolls her eyes. “I was talking about Sophia Rodriguez. Chris is another story. How you two ended up together I’ll never know.”
I feel my cheeks redden as I whirl around, following the line of people. I don’t have to take this. Common bullying tactics. And I’ve always hated bullies. What Vera Wright has against me I have no idea, but she’s going to have to forget it. Or regret it. I don’t have time to engage in petty playground drama. We’ve got a war to fight — and if she has any brains, she’ll realize that, too.
When I reach the meadow, Vera is walking behind me. She says nothing. Neither do I. The long stretch of cut grass is left wide open, and in the distance I can hear the low stutter of an engine. I strain my eyes, searching the meadow for the source of the noise.
“Look up,” Vera says, annoyed, a hand on her hip.
I ignore her tone and do as she says, searching the skies. The engine noise gets louder, and suddenly a shape appears against the blue sky. An airplane. A small dark blue biplane with a red and white stripe on each wing. I gape openly at it.