Charlie shrugs, sitting back in her chair and turning to look out the nearest window, as if she can gaze at other continents from here. “I assume the other countries are still out there with people trying to survive, living their lives, completely unaware of everything here. Those of us left in North America have no connection with anyone else because all forms of communication inside this country were destroyed by the bombs the U.S. did detonate.”
“And they haven’t bothered to come save this country?”
“I assume they feel there isn’t much to save. I would imagine most of the other nations have had their own problems anyway; overcrowding, loss of resources, civil wars, political unrest. I imagine most people are like us, doing whatever they have to, to survive. The world isn’t what it once was, and a lot of the problems are because of the choices of the former United States. They had been the world leader for decades and then there was a rebellion against the government over corrupt politics, violations of something called the Constitution; a sort of a list of rules and freedoms the government was supposed to follow; and a very well calculated, well controlled transfer of wealth, power and resources from the many to the very select few. Combined with lack of food and clean water, it was a recipe for disaster. I don’t know much on the details of the war itself, but it apparently set most of the world back centuries.
“Ultimately, the U.S. government knew they would lose to the revolutionaries so in a final desperate attempt to bring the revolution to an end, the United States’ leaders denoted atomic bombs in twenty-four major cities, the former capital included, and most of the people involved with that decision fled underground to ROC to save themselves.”
“How many people were killed?”
Charlie shakes her head, her long, auburn hair swishing about her shoulders. “Not sure. Between the initial bombs killing anyone in a fifty mile radius, the aftereffects of the radiation in those areas, and those who died from lack of food or water or medicine or whatever, I’d have to imagine close to two hundred million if not far more. People who survived the initial blast zones didn’t know how to survive without modern conveniences. They eventually turned on each other and radical factions such as the League were formed. My grandparents estimated that three-quarters of the original US population died in either the bombings or the first five years afterward.”
“God,” I murmur in horrific shock that a nation would do something so callous to its own people. But then I think of the Gamble and the way the lower level sectors in the O.Z are forced to live and realize history has very quickly repeated itself. Do we never learn from our mistakes?
“But obviously there were survivors,” I eventually say. “Otherwise you all wouldn’t be here.”
“Yes, some survived, my grandparents included, who managed to escape a former city in the south named Atlanta, I think, only a day before the explosion. At this point in time though, I have no idea how many people are left. There could be groups like ours spread over thousands of miles. And that is where ROC comes in.”
“How?”
“Your leaders know the truth. They know about the rebellion, the atomic bombs, the survivors on the surface. They keep the rest of ROC citizens in the dark, lying to them generation after generation to maintain control and prevent people from doing exactly what you did.”
“But why? What does it matter?”
She fixes me with her intelligent gaze, and I can tell she wants to spare me from whatever angst the truth might cause.
“Charlie,” I say leaning closer to her, desperation in my voice. “I have to know why.”
She chooses her next words cautiously. “Whatever experiment ROC was meant for, they believe they are superior to those of us in what you deem the Unoccupied Zone, that they are meant to be the future of this country, or whatever is left of it. But before the ROC leaders will allow their citizens to return aboveground, it is part of their mission, and currently their only focus, to cleanse the nation of those they believe to be inferior. They have used bombs, fires, biological warfare and tainted food and water, all with the intent to destroy every single one of us left on the surface before they allow your people to return.”
I slump back in my chair as tears rise in my eyes. My father knows. He knows about all of this and he allows it to continue; the lies, the Gamble, the rations and population controls. He allowed Rey and my mother to be killed and he’s allowed those left on the surface to be murdered to further some agenda set in place before any of us were even alive.
My heart breaks inside my chest, cracking apart into tiny pieces like that crystal water glass I shattered on my birthday. The man I have spent my entire life trusting and loving and looking up to as my father and a powerful, confident leader, is nothing more than a murderer and a liar. A monster.
And suddenly I realize I hate him. I hate my own father. I hate him more than I hate anything that has happened… more than I thought it possible to hate one person. He did this. He let my mom be killed in the Gamble. And Maeva and Rey too. His lies have cost the lives of those closest to me, all to preserve some façade he and the other Councilmembers have created to maintain control over everyone in ROC. They are playing some stupid game while thousands are dying.
I’m so angry and upset my hands begin to tremble and I have to grip the side of the chair to keep them still. I know I should feel shame for my hatred; he is my father after all. But after everything else and all the emotions I’ve battled the past few weeks there is no room for anything else.
However, I can’t tell Charlie any of this. What would happen to me if they learn I am the daughter of the man responsible for this continued insanity?
“We’ve been lucky,” Charlie continues. “We haven’t personally had any trouble with ROC in a long time, nearly fifteen years, I think. Guess they have bigger surface groups to deal with first, or maybe they’re plotting something more large scale. Either way, the League has been a far bigger problem.”
“They’re planning to infiltrate ROC,” I say, wanting to move the conversation away from my father in the chance I accidently reveal who I am.
Charlie nods slowly, as if pieces of a puzzle have finally fallen into place inside her brain. “We’ve suspected something like that for a while. I didn’t want to tell you before, didn’t want you to worry, but occasionally they manage to capture ROC members, either those sent to spy on or cause harm to the surface groups, or those who, like you, escaped and just didn’t know any better. It hasn’t been many, though I can’t really be sure on an exact number. The League seems to think they can use their prisoners to gain access to ROC since it’s impossible to get the door open from the outside.”
My head has started to hurt, like pins poking the inside of my skull. I rub my temples.
“You alright?” she asks. She goes to rest a hand on my knee, then stops herself and instead folds them both into her lap.
“We have to stop the League,” I say. “There are thousands of innocent people in ROC who have no idea of any of this. We can’t let the League kill them just by association.”
“It’s not that simple. While the League originally formed to fight back against ROC and try to establish some sort of order up here, and honestly I think most of their ancestors were part of the first rebellion against the United States’ government to begin with, they have veered wildly off course into a maniacal, fringe group that seems to believe nothing should stand in the way of their goal, including innocent lives. They’ve become nearly as bad as ROC, but for us to try to stop them would be senseless.”
“But we can’t just let them kill everyone!”
“You think I haven’t thought about that? The League makes our lives difficult at best, and that’s only because I give them nearly a quarter of our food stock every month just to keep their leader, Sawyer, happy. I made an agreement to turn any Subs over to him and then lied about it once I met you, which was bad enough until I sent Jax and Randolph in there to get you out. And we’ve added that po
or little girl, Nadia to the list!”
“Why?” I demand. “Why have you all risked so much for me if you want to avoid confrontation with the League?”
She sighs, rising to her feet and wandering to the nearest window, arms crossed over her chest. “We took it to a vote and most of the compound, myself included, voted to rescue you regardless of whatever consequences we will face with the League. You don’t deserve to be a pawn in these battles any more than the rest of us. The only thing we are all guilty of is being born on the wrong side of the fence.”
“Which is why we have to do something. There are others who don’t deserve this either.”
“And how exactly do you propose we stop them?” she asks, flipping around, her thin face strained so her cheekbones are even more prominent. “They outnumber us nearly four-to-one.”
I chew my bottom lip, thinking through a myriad of impossible scenarios until one seems the least crazy. “The League has other ROC citizens as prisoners. If we can get those prisoners out, they’ll have no leverage against ROC. It won’t stop them, but it will buy everyone time to figure out a better plan.”
“No. Frankly, those people mean nothing to me. The League will destroy my compound if we do that. Sawyer will make it his personal vendetta against me. I can’t risk my people like that. Not for a select few ROC citizens who may or may not have been spies in the first place. And that also doesn’t solve the problem of ROC trying to wipe us out. To be honest Kelsey, I want the League to succeed and attack ROC. Maybe they’ll all kill each other and our problems will be solved. I’m sorry if that makes me harsh, be we all had to harden a little bit to survive around here.”
My frustration and fury at the entire situation boils over. Words tumble from my lips before I have a chance to stop them or even think about what I am saying. “I can’t believe you are that naïve, not someone as smart as you. The League killed Daniel and Ashlynn, you’re people! They would have killed Jax and Randolph if they knew who they really were, and you even said yourself that rescuing me has put you high on Sawyer’s hit list. It seems like your compound is in trouble no matter which way you look at it!”
Her mouth hangs open and I don’t know if it’s because of what I’ve said, or the intense, heated rage I used to say it. Either way, she seems unable to find words as I shove up from my chair, scraping it against the floor.
Storming from the room, I flip around one last time to face her, my cheeks hot and flushed. “I guess you wished you hadn’t bothered to save me after all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I charge through the house, out the sun worn front doors and past several compound members keeping watch. They are all so startled by my sudden appearance that no one tries to stop me, and I am away from the home, across the overgrown lawn and into the woods before I even realize how fast I am running.
Slouching back against a tree, I close my eyes and inhale deeply, trying to calm my scorching emotions. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that with Charlie, but I don’t regret what I said. She wants to hide and believe all the problems will go away, but I’ve learned it simply doesn’t work that way. Happy endings exist in fairytales and daydreams, not real life.
“Kelsey?” a voice calls. I open my eyes to see Jax duck under some low branches and walk toward me. “You ok?”
“I’m fine! Stop asking me that!”
“Ok, ok,” he says, stopping five feet away as if I’m going to swing at him. “You just ran right past me and out of the house so quickly. What happened with Charlie?”
“She isn’t going to save them,” I say and my voice cracks on fresh tears. I hate that I’m crying again. It seems like that is all I am capable of anymore. “The other ROC members that the League has kidnapped. She won’t help because she’s too afraid to get involved.”
I pound my fists against the tree in rage. Then I do it again and again until Jax rushes forward and grabs both my wrists, my knuckles scrapped and bloody.
“Ok well, breaking your arms isn’t going to help anyone and I think you’ve had enough injuries in the past few weeks.”
“We can’t just leave people imprisoned with The League, Jax. If Elijah or that guy, Sawyer don’t kill them first, ROC certainly will because of the risk those people pose, but Charlie won’t do anything. It’s not like Sawyer and his little team aren’t coming for us anyway now that I’ve escaped. I was going to be their big ticket into ROC.”
He twists his features in confusion. “Why you?”
Realizing my slip up, I immediately grasp for a cover. “Because they realized my family lived in one of the higher sectors and thought ROC would be more inclined to take interest in my return. It wouldn’t have worked, but the League doesn’t seem to follow reason.”
I feel ashamed, even though I didn’t really lie, just sort of omitted small details. I don’t want them to know who I really am, especially Jax because I’m not sure how he’ll take it.
“Ok,” he says. “What do you want?”
“I want to help those innocent people. I want to at least slow down the League’s plans to invade ROC, but Charlie won’t listen!”
“She will listen, but she’s not going to defy the League even further while also buying ROC more time for whatever they plan to do next. They are both our enemies and while Charlie is strong and smart, she is also afraid. In this instance, the enemy of our enemy is not our friend. Charlie has five hundred lives to worry about and if it isn’t the League threatening us, then it’s ROC.”
“Then what do we do? I can’t just leave those people with the League.”
“You and I go get them.”
“What, just the two of us against the whole League?” I scoff.
He shrugs. “I’m pretty sure I can take them.”
Even though I imagine he’s half serious, a small laugh still escapes my lips at the ridiculous idea.
“Look, Kelsey,” he says, his face softening. “We’ll come up with a solution that lets you and Charlie both get what you want. Even the damn League too if it makes you happy. I just don’t know what that solution is yet, but we have time. Whatever the League is planning, it’s not going to happen overnight, especially since I took back their meal ticket.”
I take a deep breath, forcing calmness to return. It’s not a plan, but the idea of someone on my side willing to help with no questions asked, makes me happy. It’s almost like having Rey here again.
“Thank you,” I say through a sniffle as my frustration dissipates.
“Now, hold on a second,” he says with an impish smirk. “I haven’t stated my terms of this agreement yet.”
“Fine, Mr. Cole, what do you want?”
“Hm, what do I want?” he asks, tapping one finger against his chin as if he’s deep in thought. “I’m already handsome, witty, brilliant… I suppose a new gun would be cool, but you don’t seem to have any in your current possession. I guess I’ll have to settle for the next best thing.”
“Which is?”
He takes my face in both his hands, his fingers lacing into my hair and I look up into his eyes that swirl with emotion and concern for me, and something that looks like a burning desire that I’m not sure I entirely understand.
“All I really want right now is to kiss you again,” he says and my heart skips and flutters like a caged bird in my chest.
“Ok,” I breathe and then his mouth is against mine, tender and calm. I slide my hands around his waist, moving him closer until I’m trapped between his body and the tree. His lips are dry and a little chapped, but they are warm, and I want to be nowhere else in the world other than here in these woods kissing Jax.
After a wonderful minute, he pulls away and we both gasp for air. His hands are still on my face and I reach up to touch them, exploring the backs with my fingertips.
“They sure beat the crap out of you, didn’t they?” he says, examining the cuts and bruises decorating my face like a contemporary masterpiece.
With both hands, I bat him
away, but I’m unable to hide my smile. “Really charming, jerk.”
“Hey, I said I was handsome, witty and brilliant. I said nothing about charming. That just seems like a lot of work.” He breaks into a huge lop-sided grin and I giggle.
“Where’s your wolf by the way? I expected to see her come bouncing out from behind a tree by now.”
“Told her to stay at the compound, otherwise she would have followed me straight to the League and gotten herself shot.”
“Wow. She’s really loyal to you.”
He brushes a hand through his hair, rubbing at his head and turning away. “Yeah well, there was a brief time when we only had each other. Are you ready to go back to the house now? Charlie wants to get everyone packed up and head back to the compound within the hour.”
“Ok,” I agree. We pick our way out of the woods and back through the unkempt yard of the stone manor. As we approach the front steps, Randolph leans against the last remaining column talking to a girl who appears to be fourteen or fifteen. She looks like Randolph, with straight black hair hanging all the way down her back, small eyes and a heart shaped mouth.
The Gamble (The Gamble Series Book 1) Page 19
