Vi pokes her head into my room as I finish braiding my hair.
“Hey. There’s a guard here asking for you.”
“A guard? What do they want?”
“He didn’t say. Just asked for you.”
I swallow and straighten my uniform. It’s surprisingly comfortable, but only the smell of detergent distinguishes it from the dirty pile.
“Andie Sorenson?” the soldier asks as I make my way toward the door.
“Yes, sir.”
“Come with me, please.”
“Have I done something wrong?” The question is instinctive. I’ve learned that these particular soldiers don’t come with answers. Besides, I already know the answer is yes. I fought with my supervisor. I collected evidence that this place is more, or less, than what it’s supposed to be. I’m guilty of plenty, but the question is, do “they” know my crime. “They” run our lives. “They” hurt my friend. I still have no idea who “they” are.
“I was told to take you to Staff Sergeant Henry, miss.”
Strangers make me nervous. By design, anything out of the ordinary is cause for concern in this place and Staff Sergeant Henry is a name I don’t know. I follow in silence but it’s not Kaleb’s face that plasters itself in my brain this time. It’s his body. Blisters of seared flesh lined with bruises. I never asked about it again. I ignored his uncomfortable shifting and the way he needed the support of his desk to stand over the next few days. I did what he asked, pretended to believe him when he said he was fine. He pretended to forgive me for intruding.
The air is cold again today, but I’m not certain my chills are from atmospheric variations as we board a vehicle waiting outside. The soldier remains silent on our ride across the compound, giving my mind plenty of space to torture itself with impossible scenarios. We pull up to what looks like an administrative building, and he jogs to my side to help me down. The ground is soft from the recent rain, muddy where the grass has been scraped away by vehicles and heavy boots.
“This way, please,” breaks the silence, and I slosh through the swamp after him.
We mount the stairs and proceed through security. After passing through a scanner, a female soldier searches me again to be extra sure, I guess. Finally, we’re waved through another locked door that hides a long chain of offices. I read some of the plaques as we pass, surprised by the number of high-ranking officers stationed here. This must be an important military and government base as well as a refugee compound.
Just over halfway down the hall, we stop before a closed door, and my escort issues a firm knock. We enter at the command.
Two officers rise, and I recognize the one on the right as Sergeant Dennel. Replays of our conversation grind through my head, and I try to remain calm. Did Kaleb report my direct insubordination?
“Thank you, Private Wilkins. You may go,” the owner of the office says.
“Yes, sir.” The soldier salutes and closes the door behind him.
The man-in-charge waves toward the empty chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”
I obey and study the officers. While Kaleb makes it hard to imagine he’s an expertly trained killer, these men leave no doubt.
“Andie Sorenson?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m Staff Sergeant Burlington Henry. This is Sergeant Max Dennel. I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve invited you here today.”
“Yes, sir,” I repeat. I don’t know the script for this office.
“Relax. There’s no reason to look so frightened.” His smile does the opposite of what he intends. “I’ve heard only good things about you and your work. How do you like your position here at the compound?”
My brain runs off again, and I clear my throat to bring it back. “It’s great. I mean, I like it a lot. Kaleb is great.” I wince. “Lance Corporal Novelli, that is.”
He seems pleased, but I can’t be sure. “You think highly of him?”
I nod and focus on my hands, afraid my face will broadcast more than I want to share. Kaleb fought to keep our feelings from clouding our judgment. I’d be crushed if I got him in trouble for finally giving in.
“Well, he certainly thinks highly of you, and the truth is, I do too.”
I concentrate back on him.
“In the three months you’ve been working with him, he’s become a different person. He’s participating again, actually contributing to our administrative meetings.”
It takes a minute for me to stammer a reply. “Thank you, sir. He makes it easy to work for him. He’s very capable—he was just overwhelmed.”
“He was always an excellent soldier. He doesn’t belong behind a desk any more than I belong in a dance studio, but such are the realities of war.”
“He doesn’t seem as bitter as he could be. I think he’s trying to make the best of it.”
“He is. That’s very considerate of you.”
Staff Sergeant Henry leans forward. “In fact, given your success and all the reports I’ve received, I’m going to guess you are a very intelligent and perceptive young lady. Lance Corporal Novelli certainly thinks so.”
I look to Sergeant Dennel for clues but his hard expression gives nothing away.
“I presume by now you’ve learned something of his story.”
“That he was captured by the rebels? Yes, I’m aware.”
He considers his next statement. “He cares about you, Ms. Sorenson. He has not said as much, but we can see it in the way he talks about you, the way he describes your accomplishments and your time together. You’re more to him than just an assistant. I think you are his friend.”
I can’t tell if I’m about to be chastised or commended.
“I’d be honored if he considers me a friend,” I say, hoping that’s safe.
“If you are, you’d be the only one he’s made since his capture.”
I’m startled into silence again.
He sighs. “I’ve tried, Ms. Sorenson. Heaven knows we’ve all tried to get to him, but that month changed him. Shut him off from his life and who he was before it all.”
He leans back. “Don’t get me wrong. Novelli is a stellar human being. Polite, respectful. I haven’t met a single person who doesn’t like him. But neither have I met anyone who knows him anymore. He goes through the motions, does what he’s told. But it isn’t real, and I fear it’s only a matter of time before those demons in his head take over and destroy him.”
I hope he can’t see that I agree with his analysis.
“You may be wondering why I’m telling you all of this. Why I’d risk breaking protocol by discussing something so confidential with another person, a civilian no less. It’s because Kaleb is special. And I can see by the impact you’ve had on him that you are too.”
That emotion is back on his face, and I swallow my discomfort. I don’t know how to read this man. Something in me wants to believe him, but trust is irresponsible right now. Impossible with the ominous cloud of “they” drifting over our heads. Is this man one of them?
“Kaleb is an incredible person. I could see that right away.”
The staff sergeant gathers himself back into his decorated-soldier stance. “He is, but I didn’t bring you here today to talk about feelings.”
I’m not surprised, just confused.
“I brought you here because despite all of our efforts, we still haven’t been able to help him. Not at the level we want to anyway. He won’t let us in. Not his doctors, not his superiors, not even his former friends. We’re worried about him and had almost lost hope. Until you.”
“Me?”
He leans into his response. “He responds to you. I’m sure it’s because of you that we’re starting to get our man back, but there’s still a long way to go. Until he opens up about those thirty-four days in captivity, what’s changed, he won’t be able to heal and move on.”
I study him in silence. Does he know he’s asking me to spy on Kaleb? His menacing message doesn’t match the concern in his eyes as he delivered it. Even now his face is lined with empathy that a man of his rank doesn’t require for delivering orders. I try to keep my disgust from view since I’m not certain he deserves it. Whoever “they” are want something from him, but technically Staff Sergeant Burlington Henry hasn’t said a thing I don’t agree with except the rights of the parties involved. The lack of facts sends me into investigation mode. Time to bring down that farm.
“I don’t think I realized he was struggling so much.” It’s only a partial lie. “He seems pretty well-adjusted, considering everything he’s been through.”
“Yes, he hides it well. Soldiers are trained to push through any obstacle and he was always one of our best.”
“That makes sense.” It kind of does. Isn’t there a dark world behind that wall in his office I can’t see? “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I understand why I’m here. Am I in trouble?”
“No, of course not. The opposite. We’re hoping you’ll be willing to help us.”
So many pronouns in this equation, so few definitions. “What can I do to help him?”
Staff Sergeant Henry seems to relax. “Right now, just be his friend. He needs that more than anything. The rest will come with trust and time.”
“Okay.”
Fact: None of this has offered clues about “them,” “we,” and “us.” Or why I’d have any interest in helping these people gain access to the only person I do trust. The one thing I know? This Burlington Henry thinks our meeting went well.
He claps his hands. “Great. We’ll be in touch.”
“I’ll take her back, sir,” Sergeant Dennel offers as we’re moving toward the door.
“Thank you, Sergeant. And thank you for your generous spirit, Ms. Sorenson. Kaleb is blessed to have a friend like you.”
I force a smile and allow Sergeant Dennel to lead me out.
A string of curses spews from the sergeant’s mouth as soon as we’re alone in the jeep.
“What a joke! It’s not what it looks like. You can’t—”
“He wants me to spy on Kaleb. Yeah, I know.” I’m offended by his surprised expression. “You’d have to be braindead not to see through that.”
“Hang on.” He slips the vehicle into gear, and we drive back toward the refugee section of the campus. He stops at 9B but doesn’t reach for the door. Instead, he levels a severe look at me.
“I believe that you care about Kaleb, so listen. I’m sorry for brushing off your call the other day. You were right to be worried about him. You still should be. He’s in an impossible situation. And yes, I could be court-martialed just for talking to you about this but he’s my friend. I owe him my life. What happened to him is partially my fault.”
My stare narrows on him.
He shakes his head. “I can’t tell you more, but when he returned from captivity, it was brutal. They grilled him, caged, and studied him. I know him well and I trust him. If he won’t talk, he has a damn good reason why. Unfortunately, his silence is doing him no favors with the brass upstairs. I’ve done as much as I can to help him, but there’s nothing left at this point. They’re getting impatient. The clock is ticking. His recent disappearance …”
“Where was he?”
He doesn’t look at me. “I can’t answer that.”
And I can’t accept evasion anymore. I’m so tired of questions. Guesses. Hypotheses that end up being downright fluffy compared to the truth. “Then at least explain that whole exchange regarding the therapy sessions I overheard shortly after I got here. I was right outside the door. You were on his case for not going. Are you one of ‘them’ too? Are you one of the experts badgering him for details?”
Dennel leans back and studies a truck parked in front of 9A. Soldiers unload supplies while another shouts orders. “It’s complicated. What you need to know is that Kaleb has to pretend to cooperate with them. I get why he fights it, but he’s only making things worse. I’m tired of punishing him over bullshit infractions after everything he’s been through. If you want to help him, convince him to be selfish for one moment of his fucked-up life.”
“What does that actually mean? Why am I involved in this? I’m nothing to these people.”
“Yeah, right. There’s a reason Henry risked involving a civilian by summoning you. He wasn’t wrong that you’re the best avenue to Kaleb right now. Kaleb cares for you. I’m not interested in details on your relationship with him. What matters is that you’ve changed him, and it’s gotten the attention of everyone in that senior hallway. You’re on the radar, Andie. You have to be careful.”
“Be careful with what? I’m just doing my job. The job I was assigned by all of you.”
“Yeah? Just a job? So if I re-assigned you to housekeeping, you’d be fine with that?”
“Cleaning toilets over working in a nice office? No thanks.”
“Fine. Come work for me then. My office is twice the size, great view. I could use the help. I’ll put in for a transfer tonight.”
I ignore his smug look. “All right, fine. I care about him. So what?”
“My point is, now that they know, they’re going to use you against him.”
“Staff Sergeant Henry? Is he ‘they?’”
“Maybe. Maybe not, but there are things you don’t understand.”
“Like?”
“Everything.”
My heart thunders against my ribs. “That’s it? Dammit, I’m so sick of being caught in the middle of questions! Give me something to go on. I already know they want to get inside his head.”
Dennel taps preoccupied fingers on his steering wheel. He scans the supply truck like Kaleb does every time I broach one of our “wall” subjects. The soldiers pile back in, and the engine roars to life. “Worse than that. They suspect he…” He stops, and the alarm explodes anything left of my patience.
“They suspect what?”
The tapping resumes. “Never mind. Look—”
“No! What do they suspect, Sergeant?” My blood turns to sludge when my brain catches up. “They think he might have turned. They think the rebels broke him.”
Dennel responds with an investigation of his dashboard this time.
“It’s not possible. Kaleb isn’t a traitor.”
“I know, Andie. You and I know that, but he’s tired.” I take zero comfort in Dennel’s rationale. “He’s disillusioned with this war. You can see that, can’t you? He’s a great soldier, because he’s great at everything he does, but his heart was never in it.”
“Because he was drafted?”
“Because of who he is.”
I’m shaking now. “Who is he?”
Dennel sighs. “Kaleb comes from a long line of military pedigree. His father was a high-ranking officer, until he was killed in action six years ago.” He quiets. “Kaleb was drafted and pulled into active duty a week after his father’s death.”
I let out my breath, finally grasping the disconnect I’d always sensed in him.
“He never wanted to fight this war, and now he’s paid dearly for it. He’s still paying, Andie. More than—”
He quiets, then meets my gaze. “They think he’s hiding something, and I agree with them. I don’t blame him, but he’s playing a very dangerous game right now. I trust his motives. I care about him, but I don’t know how to help him without knowing what he wants to accomplish.”
It’s too much information and yet not nearly enough. I feel it sifting through brain cells, lodging in clumps to unpack later. “Have you tried talking to him? Explaining his situation and why he needs to be careful?”
“Of course I have. You don’t think he understands the situation he’s in? I’m surprised he let you get so close to him. He’s kept everyone away since his return. My guess is he’s probably beating himself up about it.”
“He is.” It’s hard to ignore things like a constant battle raging behind someone’s eyes. It’s what makes rare grins magical and laughter… Not now. I can’t right now. “Why doesn’t he just leave then? Certainly, he’s earned an honorable discharge after everything he’s been through.”
His grave look sends me back to my brief stint in laundry, thick red folders that empty when I get suspicious. Oh god…
“They’ll never let him go while he’s under suspicion. He’s trapped here. They threw him behind that desk to monitor his every move. It beats a prison cell, but in the end, it’s the same thing.”
Fact: I’m scared. Confused, always confused. “What do I do? I’m going to face him in a minute. What do I say?”
He stares off again. “Honestly, at this point, you should just tell him the truth.”
“What truth? I don’t even know what that is. All people tell me is that I don’t know anything!”
“You know more than you think. You know what just happened with Henry. Work with that. Since Kaleb is the only one with the full story, he’s the only one who can decide what to do.”
Adrenaline draws reason. Calm in the face of crisis. Adrenaline allows you to do things like make composed agreements with staff sergeants and raise logical questions with directors of residential affairs. Seeing the man you love after you just found out he’s a prisoner flirting with a death sentence? Adrenaline does nothing to help with that.
Kaleb is sifting through a filing cabinet and looks up at the clatter of the closing door.
“Andie. I was beginning to wonder—”
I cut him off with a crash into his chest and wrap my arms around his waist. Zero concern for his ability to breathe.
“What’s this?” he nearly laughs, his own arms tightening around me.
I’m not ready for words. I haven’t figured out how to begin, and right now I’m paralyzed by the security of being close to him. That steady heartbeat, the evidence of his breath on my hair. Life. That’s what I need, his existence wrapped with mine. I don’t want to let him go, terrified he won’t protect himself as much as he needs to. That he’s too good of a person to defeat his nightmare.
“Andie, what is it? What’s wrong?”
I force myself away just enough to find his eyes. But when they explore mine, it makes everything impossible. Words have no value when my heart fills with fear of a love I won’t survive. I have to use actions instead.
I push my hands into his hair, forcing his lips to mine. But the kiss explodes the pressure of lust into absolute need for his essence inside me. For assurance that I’m choosing him above the chaos, above the games and the threats. I’m choosing Kaleb, no matter the costs.
My tongue seeks his, fights for his air. He’s magnetic to my fingers that slide over his solid frame and find evidence of his desire. He stifles a groan when I feed it, my hand imploring, exacting, cruel in its demands. I melt my hips against his until we’re both gasping and channeling toward the couch. He lowers himself over me, and I claw at his uniform in search of the addicting burn of skin. His deep kisses lodge in my soul. I want, I need, every piece of him. Now. Yesterday. Forever.
“Andie, wait…”
No! Not this time. There’s no conscience in our contact. The only solution is to abandon caution for instinct. To let it drive the rhythm of our hunger because I’m ravenous.
Even through restrictive fabric I almost explode at the sensation of him, the promise of what’s to come. I’ve won. I can see it, sense it. The strongest saint would lose against the force of this seduction. My hips drag against him, pleading for the rest, and I reach for his belt. My hands slide in. He’s mine. There’s no doubt. He. Is. Mine.
We move slow at first, both of us paralyzed by the sensation of each other. Dreams flood back, but the white flames are unbearable in reality. I gasp and pull him deeper, absorbing until it’s everything I can do to breathe.
“Please, Kaleb.”
He closes his eyes but not before I see the pain. The fragments of his soul spilling from his eyes. “This shouldn’t be happening.”
His voice is so broken. God, this pain is on me, and my own eyes burn in response. I bite my lip when he won’t meet my gaze. He wants me. It’s all over his face, his virile young body tense with longing. I’m the forbidden, the impossible temptation. But I don’t know how to let him go, how to need someone I can’t have. Am I selfish enough to ignore reality? I would die for him, but right now I feel like I’ll die without him. There’s no real choice as I secure our union with greedy hands.
He moves against me in timed perfection, instinct I’m sure. That’s my ally in this moment, his enemy. He can’t fight me and the basic need of a deprived twenty-three-year-old fanned with merciless fury. Yes, I’m shamefully selfish.
Soon it’s hopeless for me as well. Those white flames consume anything left of my reason, my will. My brain loses control of my body as the contact with his incinerates every cell. I tighten my arms around him and encourage his ragged breaths sending me to that place where blinding stars mix with raging heat. Slick skin and hard muscle. The gasp is mine, and I feel another climbing through my core. I claim his mouth, his tongue, and strain until I need a fraction of freedom to breathe. It’s almost too much, and when his weight finally relaxes in a wave of relief, my own shudders from exhaustion.
“Shit, Andie. Fuck!” He drives a rough hand over his head.
“Kaleb—”
“Don’t. Just… stop.”
He straightens and adjusts his uniform with violent authority.
“Kaleb, it’s okay.”
“No. It’s not.”
“I’m not sorry,” I say, terrified his anger isn’t directed at me.
“I am. You need to go.”
“No.”
He’s primed for battle when I pull him back to the couch, and I lace my arm through his to soothe the friction. It takes several seconds for his tension to bleed out like the agony had moments before. Still, my touch does nothing for the embarrassment and guilt draped over his features. I’d do anything to relieve him of it. It’s my sin he’s carrying. But here I am again, the woman with no words. The woman who lets the man she loves pay the penalty for her sins over and over and over. Dennel’s advice comes back to me, and I settle on that. What’s left for either of us but the facts?
“I was summoned by Burlington Henry this morning.”
He stiffens. “What did he want?”
“Sergeant Dennel was there too. Henry wants me to spy on you, Kaleb. He didn’t say it like that, but that’s what it comes down to.”
Kaleb pulls away and runs his hand over his head again. I see his mind racing, a soldier’s instinct to hide his fear.
“What exactly did he say?”
He studies me with a stoic expression as I slip back into my clothing and repeat as much of the conversation as I can remember, including my debriefing session with Sergeant Dennel. You’d think I was telling him the weather forecast, not explaining that his superiors suspect he’s a traitor.
“Kaleb?” I’ve been finished for several seconds, and he still hasn’t responded. “What should we do?”
He leans back, staring at the closed door to his office. There’s something different going on in that wall this time. It’s terrifying, and I still can’t see it.
“This civil war has defined our generation, irrevocably altered our world. But do you understand what it’s really about?”
Well, I know this is a trick question. I know everyone has an opinion and some are strong enough to justify actions that lead to a never-ending civil war.
I decide to play it safe. “We’re told that several groups are trying to overthrow the government and institute their own ideologies.”
“And what are those warring ‘ideologies’?”
“The rebels want freedom.”
“Freedom from what?”
“The government.”
“To do what? Once they gain power, what will their freedom look like?”
I have no idea. We don’t talk about the future anymore.
“You grew up with this war. Which side are you on?” he continues.
I glance over, uneasy. “The side that survives.”
My answer means something to him. Maybe even more than it means to me. “Did you believe you weren’t free ten years ago?”
“I can’t remember much about that. I guess not.”
“Are you free now?”
I almost laugh and scan our “prison.” “No. Not now.”
“Will you be when the war ends?”
“I don’t know. I guess it depends who wins.”
His gaze cuts into me, and I know I’m missing his point. I’ve said something wrong, but he doesn’t correct me. Instead his eyes flicker back to the wall as he retreats to that far-off place. “The government doesn’t have ideologies. The government is itself. It’s power. It’s control. It says the rebels are wrong, but it doesn’t even understand them enough to know what they’re wrong about. They’re just a faction of the machine that stopped accepting the status quo, and that doesn’t work for a system that exists only because it does.”
Oh no, what if they’re right? What if the man I’m falling for is a traitor? I’m not sure I even understand what that is anymore.
“I’m not feeding information to the rebels or helping their cause. I don’t believe they’re fighting for anything better. Their version of freedom won’t be any different, any improvement for the average person who is the real victim caught in this hell. And yes, I know my superiors are afraid that I’ve turned, whatever that means.”
“What really happened during that month, Kaleb? Why won’t you talk about it?”
He swipes another hand over his face.
“I lied to you, Andie, just like I’ve been lying to them. I’m still lying and will continue until I’m dead. I’m sorry. There’s so much… I have to.”
I can’t move, let alone speak, so I wait, tremble as he leaves me for that deeper prison I can’t touch.
“Kaleb, please,” I say, drawing him back to me. “Let me help you.”
His eyes. So broken. “I know you want to but you can’t, okay? You can’t, and I’d be a horrible person if I pulled you into this. I need you to accept that because I refuse to do it.”
“But you’re in trouble. I care about you too much to let go.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for. You want the incident report? Is that it? You want the photographs and body scans and laundry list of broken pieces they had to sew back together?”
“Yes?” The word comes out like a squeak, but it’s out.
He nods, intent on punishing my frightened question with the answer. “Okay, fine. The razor-wire on the wrists and ankles? That’s not their move. It’s ours. Electrical burns are common enough, but we perfected the art with a method of atomic manipulation called the Glaxon Ionizer. The mallet to the hand? It wasn’t a mallet. Only two fingers sustained damage because they used a ZB-783 vise. It’s a customized, small-profile hybrid between a traditional table vise and vise grip pliers. It allows for precision and strength in constricted applications.”
“Like destroying fingers?” I whisper.
He studies his right hand. “Exactly. Like destroying fingers.”
There’s an instinctive question on my tongue but I don’t need to ask it. The horrific answer is radiating around us, bleeding from behind that wall every time he gets lost. “You were tortured for thirty-four days by your own techniques.” My blood freezes. “And your superiors know it.”
“Of course they do. Which brings us to this.”
He rests his foot on the coffee table and pulls up his pant leg. We both stare at the metal limb. His breathing accelerates, and he’s gone again, but it’s different this time. There’s no stony mask concealing the terror. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m getting more lies, but I have no doubt the fear is real. I’m not angry. I trust him even if I can’t trust his words.
He has a damn good reason. If Dennel believes that, so can I.
I nestle against his side, holding on, trying to bring him back to me. I reach up and touch his face, hoping that will pull him from his nightmare. He barely reacts.
“Kaleb, what is it? Kaleb.”
Finally, he blinks and clears his throat. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You went back there didn’t you?”
He nods, and it’s then that I notice the tears in his eyes. “God, it hurt so much,” he whispers. “I screamed until my heart started skipping beats.” He pulls away and clasps his hands on his head, confronting the unseen vision on the floor.
“Afterward they said they were only starting with my leg. They were going to do the rest of me. They wanted to see what it could do.” He looks up with such fear, such horror, I can’t speak. “I would have told them, Andie. If I’d known anything I would have told them. The razor-wire, the burns, the vise, the beatings, all of that I could handle, but…”
He shakes his head. “They know…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, and my heart is screaming.
“They know what? Who knows? That you would have cracked? But you didn’t.”
“That we have a leak.”
“What?”
He doesn’t want to tell me more. It’s all over his face, the way even his body closes off to me.
“And they think that’s you?”
“Have you ever heard of the ‘Kalik Closer?’”
“Huh?”
“Named after Dr. Alan Kalik, the chief researcher on the project. The idea was to create a super-weapon for interrogation that would maximize the pain and damage of torture with minimal time and effort. A way to cut to the end of the book, so-to-speak, during the interrogation process.”
A chill soaks through my veins. “We do that?”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “Yes we do that. And we’re way ahead of everyone else.”
He quiets again. My temper flares when it becomes obvious that’s it. He’s finished with his explanation that’s explained nothing.
“Why are you fighting them so hard? Don’t you want to help your side in any way you can?”
“My side? It’s my side’s technology that did this to me! My side, their side, what’s the difference? We’re all fighting the same pointless war for the same pointless reward of more of the same. There’s no end to this, Andie, because there’s no goal. There will be no winner.”
“Kaleb—”
“So what, I tell them what they want to know, help find their leak. What if one of them is the leak? What if their superiors are the leak? What do you think is going to happen? I’m their biggest weapon, their loaded gun! Their number one suspect.
“The more I give, the more they take, and then what? Once they extract everything they can from me, they’re going to launch a psychotic witch hunt, and soon I’ll be seeing all my friends, contacts, including you, start to disappear. Do you want to know what a ZB-783 vise feels like as it crushes into your bones and disintegrates your joints?”
I shake my head, hot liquid soaking my eyes.
“I can’t do it, Andie. I won’t sentence other people to the same fate I suffered. I can’t escalate this war when I just want it to end. The leak is there, but it’s one of a thousand. As soon as we plug it, if we plug it, ten more will pop up, because that’s the truth everyone knows but no one will admit. We’re fighting ourselves as much as any so-called ‘Rebel.’
“Who do you think the Rebels are? They’re us as much as we are anything. They’re your neighbors, friends, and teachers, just like we are. They happened to pick a different side and most of the time it has nothing to do with ideologies, or choice, or the propaganda both sides throw at each other. It’s chance. It’s who got to you first. It doesn’t matter which side you’re on. This war is about nothing. We are sacrificing our souls for fucking nothing.”
I’m paralyzed now. He’s spent years forming these conclusions that have blasted me in seconds. These are a traitor’s words. Testimony that will get him killed, but no violent protest bubbles in my gut. No raging rebuttal. These are words he’s earned, words that are infinitely complex, and somehow, somewhere deep, I fear I’m more in love with him than ever as they reveal the depth of his hidden existence.
It’s too much, and I cover my face as I break down. I’m not sure why I’m crying. It’s just raw emotion crushing me into a sputtering pulp of love, hate, and fear.
“Oh shit. Andie, I’m sorry.” He closes the gap and pulls me into him. “I shouldn’t have dumped this on you. I’m not going to let any of that happen, okay? That’s my point. I want to be part of the end, not the escalation. I want to be done with all of this.” The emotion in his voice only rips into me further. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
He buries his face in my hair before forcing me to look at him.
“I want to leave. I want to find a quiet farm and have chickens and grow tomatoes and get a dog. I want you. The two of us figuring out life without all of this. No war, no sides, just each other.”
He’s sincere in his fantasy as it gushes out, and it’s painful how much I want that too. But I know he doesn’t believe it any more than I do. We’re prisoners here. Another lie? Maybe, but dreams come in all forms. Some people deserve them more than others. I’d forgive Kaleb anything.
“So this whole ‘refugee’ roundup?”
His look tells me everything as my world completely shatters.
“You got to us first.” My voices stammers out.
“Better that we make you pick our side than risk you picking theirs.”
I shake my head, numb. “Would the rebels have hurt us? We’re supposedly here for our own protection. Is that even true?”
He sighs. “It depends on whether or not you would have agreed to join them. They’re no better, Andie. You have to trust me on that. There is no good side. No matter what happens, we’re all going to hell.
“Everyone at this compound will have to pick a side. And I’ll tell you right now, it’ll have to be this one.”
I gasp. “The schools!”
“It’s a lot easier to brainwash a child than an adult.”
I can’t move. It’s too much too fast and I don’t know what to do with it.
Kaleb curses. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m…” He swallows and meets my eyes again, inches away, but further than we’ve been in a long time. “There’s so much more but I can’t.” He draws in a deep breath, and I don’t like how he suddenly avoids me.
“I’m stuck in this game now, but I’m not a mastermind. I didn’t come back here as a lump of flesh and think all this through. I just wanted to survive for a while. Little choices in the moment, you know? And ten months later, here I am with everything spinning out of control, trying to hold it all together.
“I just go on and survive and try to… I don’t even know. But I want to stop fighting. I want it to end.”
He searches my face again, willing me to understand. “And really, for a soldier giving up is just as treasonous as feeding information to the rebels. So that’s the truth. Am I traitor? Sometimes I think maybe I am.”
He waves his hand in dismissal. “Anyway, none of this matters. There’s nothing I can do to fix it. If I rock the boat now, they’ll go after you, Dennel, and everyone else I’m close to. I’d be launching a whole new civil war inside these walls, and I can’t let that happen yet. I have to survive the game until I can figure out how to protect you from myself.” And that’s that. Final testimony filed away and ready for processing. He even has the audacity to glance at the clock as though filing reports still matters.
Fire rages up my spine. Fists clench, eyes press into a glare. At this second I hate him. No, I love him, that’s why I hate him for giving in. For surviving Hell only to lose it stuck behind a desk. I get it now, Dennel’s warning, his frustration that Kaleb’s worst enemy is himself. His damn principles have strapped him to a burning altar, and I’m furious that he’s decided he’s supposed to bear the weight of this entire war on his shoulders.
And yes, I hate myself for being angry about it all. I’m sitting beside one of the strongest, most exceptional individuals I’ve ever met, and I’m upset that his perfection isn’t enough. That there’s an Impossible too great for him to overcome. I’m livid that the man I love is content as a martyr.
The blaze springs me from the couch.
“Wake up, Kaleb! You can’t go home. There is no such thing as home for you. There will be no future or us in the real world. You’re holding on for nothing.”
“Andie, I—”
“Quiet! They’re never going to let you leave here until you come clean and give them what they want. You may see this as some complex game but it’s simple: like it or not, you’ve picked a side. You either get it together and cooperate with the side you picked or turn yourself in as a traitor who changed his mind. Those are your choices.”
I need to stop. The words are already singeing my lips, incinerating my lungs. I want to hurt him. No, I want to hurt myself, and I’m doing a damn good job of it as the expression on his face crushes me into the concrete floor.
“What do you think it’s like to grow closer to you every day, knowing you’re a ticking time bomb that will eventually explode and destroy both of us? I’m falling in love with you and fantasizing about a future I can’t have. You really want to protect me? Then end this pointless standoff so we can live in reality for once and see what that looks like. If you want to end it, then end it!”
That’s the speech that follows me as I run from his office. The words that sear his devastated shock into my brain. The legacy I leave for the man who owns my soul.
I make it all the way back to my room before I throw up.
I skip dinner that night. I make up some non-lie about being sick, because let’s face it: my stomach heaves every time I think about the poison that spewed from my mouth toward the one person who doesn’t deserve it. I would have vomited all night if there’d been anything left to come up once lunch was flushed.
Time does nothing but torture me with helplessness. Staring at the ceiling, listening to the hiss of Vi’s breathing, the suffocating night becomes a screen for replays of my crime. She’d been worried about me, but I assured her it would go away soon. And it will, because this disease has a cure.
01:48.
Only seven more hours until I can fix this. Until I throw myself at Kaleb’s feet and trade my anger for the truth. I’m going to unleash my heart. Pour it out in a messy puddle he can pick through. I’ll tell him how I love him. How my rage was actually a deep fear of his dilemma. That I admire him. That his honor is contagious and it kills me to think someone is trying to destroy his radiance. That I’m terrified of losing him. That there’s no way to process the fact that I will, no way to let go when he’s all I want to hold onto. I will make him understand my own pain at watching him torture himself and live a lie he doesn’t deserve. The frustration of helplessness that someone could sacrifice as much as he has and then be asked to do it over and over again. I will leave no doubt that I hate them, both sides, for shoving him in the crosshairs, and I do understand there’s little difference between his enemies and his friends. He will know he has an ally. That I will die for him.
01:53.
This night is forever. The temptation for distraction lasts only a second before I’m frozen with guilt. How many nights does Kaleb lie awake, tortured by memories and fear and confusion? How many hours staring into the darkness, shivering against the pain of forces bent on crushing his beautiful spirit? I know he wouldn’t hesitate to fight for me, to absorb my wounds if the roles were reversed. He would have borne my demons, and he has. His character bleeds from him. Saturates every action, his very presence.
But what did I do? What did I say to the man who’s done nothing but protect, comfort, and defend me since the moment I arrived at this horrible place?
Fact: I told him to turn himself in as a traitor. I told him to literally go to Hell.
I cough and clutch my stomach.