“Are you all right?” I murmur. “Is there anything you need? Some food?”
Her features soften, surprise smoothing away the stress of sadness. She scrambles to her feet and climbs on my lap, knocking me to a sitting position on the floor. Her legs wrap tight around my waist, and her arms hug my neck. The crying is gut-wrenching now.
I press a hand to her hair and try to offer gentle, comforting sounds. But a lump has jammed into my throat, and the pressure limits me. I rock her like I would with Ben.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. I recognize her pain. It’s an untouchable kind, put there by the loss of someone important. I asked her what she needed, and she reached out to take it. What she needed was for someone to hold her.
We’ve drawn attention now. The Workers around us are waking. I hold the child against me and look around at all their faces—at their defeated eyes and quivering lips. What can I say to them to ease the fear? I try to think back to a time just weeks ago; what did I need to hear more than anything?
“You aren’t alone,” I say to them. My head shakes. “Not anymore.”
Lips press tighter, eyes brimming with moisture. Heads lean back to the wall and eyes close tight. They’re trying to believe it.
“We’re going to end this,” I say. “We’ll end it together.”
Noise drifts from farther down the hall. Angry voices. Distracted, I set the girl in the arms of a woman who rests with two other children, and hurry toward the sound. A clump of southern soldiers hear it too, and we rush together, tossing concerned glances between us.
When we reach the cafeteria, the doorway is blocked by a crowd of Workers trying to push through.
“This way,” one of the soldiers says, and we follow him down another hall. We push through a door and step into the cafeteria on the opposite side. The air is alive with rage.
“I saw it with my own eyes!” a man yells. His face is red, and his fist pounds his chest.
“Where is he?” another man calls. “He must be brought to justice!”
“Friends!” Solomon is at the front of the room, hands extended toward the crowd. His clothes are dirty from smoke, and a large patch on his sleeve is burned away. “You must calm yourselves!”
Several of the voices reduce to deep coughs, and I understand his reasoning. Some of them have inhaled smoke, and they need to be treated. But his words only make them angrier.
“The men you sent to protect us have burned our safe house to the ground,” the first man cries. His voice snags on a sob. “They’ve killed our families! Will you still defend them?”
“I will not defend those responsible for tonight,” Solomon replies, his tone hard with anger. “I feel your grief. All I’m asking is for your cooperation in letting us investigate the matter fully.”
“Investigate what? I can tell you who did this. They stand here with us now!”
There’s an uproar of agreement, and Solomon’s eyes search the large space. I wonder who he’s looking for until his gaze settles on Cash, who pushes his way through the crowd from the other side. Some people glare when he passes. Others take wide steps to move from his path.
I spot Ian just a few yards from me and make my way to his side. I grab his arm. “What do they mean? What did they see?”
“One of us lit the factory on fire,” he says, his head bent close to mine. “One of the Watchers.”
I meet his eyes. “The same one who blew up the barricade?”
“There’s no telling. Likely there’s more than one.”
I turn back to the people, my gaze moving over their terrified faces.
“How could they?” I whisper.
Ian shakes his head. “They’re still operating under the Council’s threats. Choosing to disobey orders is hard for some. Likely they have much more to lose.”
I jerk my face toward him. “They just murdered innocent people. I don’t care what threats they’ve been given. There’s no excuse for this.”
Ian’s eyebrows pull in. “I’m not making excuses,” he says. “But you have to understand where they’re coming from too. It’s the only way to reach them.”
I purse my lips, but no response comes. While I know firsthand that most Watchers hate their lives, I find it hard to believe that all who betray us are only doing it under threat. What if some of them are just bad men? I turn back to the crowd.
“You have the loyalty of these soldiers,” Cash is calling from beside Solomon. “Don’t let the choices of a few destroy what we’re building here.”
The room slowly quiets. Cash has grabbed their attention, so he nods to Solomon. After a deep inhale and slow breath out, Solomon speaks.
“This is what I feared,” he begins. “You, who have suffered more than anyone, have become the targets. The Council will punish the resistance this way until they have regained control. My friends, they wish to break our will…to spend our energy until we have nothing left and no choice but to surrender. Will you let them have you back? Will you damn your children to a lifetime of slavery? Because that is what the Council wants. That is their primary goal. To get you back in those factories. It is for this reason that we have stopped all rescue attempts of Workers at this time. The more we bring into the Southern edge, the more deaths there will be.”
“You’re leaving them behind?” A teen boy steps forward. His eyes are weary, his body thin. “My mother is still out there.”
“And my children!” another voice calls.
“We’ll get them ourselves,” the teen says.
“You can’t stop us!” a man shouts. Voices rise in agreement.
Solomon’s voice booms over the angry noise. “My friends! Please, you must listen! This is not an abandonment. Merely a change in tactic. We haven’t forgotten your loved ones. But I need you to understand that the surest way to prevent their deaths is to reach out to the Watchers more directly.”
A man, close in age to Solomon, steps forward. “You’re fooling yourselves! You might have persuaded a handful of Watchers to renounce the Council’s authority, but there are hundreds more. Thousands!”
“There are many within the Council’s ranks who are no longer loyal to their leaders,” Cash interjects. “Don’t underestimate our reach.”
“I know nothing of your reach,” the man growls, his body tensing. “Besides the reach of your gun.”
Cash’s face colors, his jaw tightening. My body jerks, all my muscles ready to leap forward and defend him.
“These men have given up everything for the sake of your freedom,” Solomon says. He stares at the man. “It’s important, for the success of this great task before us, that we don’t resort to placing one another back in the boxes we’ve so nobly fought to escape.”
Pride balloons in me. The man’s shoulders drop, but his expression never softens.
Solomon clears his throat. “I give you my word, your family and friends are the end goal. Their freedom, your freedom, is the point of all of this. But right now, the Watchers must be the priority if we’re to get out of this valley in greater numbers.”
“How can we know for sure?”
I search the crowd for the voice and find a girl, maybe sixteen. Her voice is soft, but her eyes are hard. She tilts her head, chewing her lip and waiting for a response. “How do you expect us to trust you now that you’ve changed your story?”
“The story never changed.” Takeshi steps out of the crowd, standing next to Cash. The girl’s eyes narrow, her arms crossing over her chest. If she knew who he was, would she challenge him this way?
“But there are many paths to the end,” he says. “Some will lead to more suffering than others. We simply want to avoid whatever bloodshed we can.”
“I don’t care if the Watchers die!” a woman screams. Her voice sends a jolt through me. Silence falls over the room. Everyone waits to see what the response will be.
“How can you say that?”
Slowly heads turn, until the crowd is looking at me. Takeshi, Cash, and So
lomon all stare. When they don’t stop me, I step forward, fueled by images of Edan dying in a pool of his own blood. He wasn’t bad. He was the best of them, and he gave up his life without a second thought because he believed it was right. I see Alex, hear his confession just before his last breath.
“How can you say you don’t care,” I say, louder. “Do you know what these men are sacrificing for you? For me?”
I’m in front of them all now, standing between Cash and Takeshi—the next generation of leaders trying to mend the mistakes of the past. There’s a part of me that thinks this was a mistake. The scowls and furious eyes make me want to return to Ian’s side. But bigger than the fear is anger. They have to know what these men gave up.
“The Council is punishing their families,” I say. “Most of you knew Edan. His sister is seven years old, and she’s dying because he chose to fight for us.”
I hear a heavy breath, and I turn toward Solomon’s deep frown.
“She’s died,” he says to me. I stare at him, stunned to silence. “We received word just yesterday.”
“She’s dead,” I whisper, my eyes roaming the floor, searching for a way to grasp on to this new truth. The room is silent, all the eyes staring. My head jerks up, and I glare at the men and women gathered here.
“She’s dead!” I shout. “She was seven! Edan gave up everything for us. So how can you say that you don’t care? How can you spit in their faces, when they carried your bleeding bodies to safety? These men carried your children out of the rain the night we ran!”
It’s all bubbling over, pouring out of me like rushing water. My eyes are clear, my thoughts corrected after all the years of conditioning. I see it now, and I won’t shut my mouth until they see it too. Their stubbornness only serves to solidify all the lessons I’ve learned.
“They are slaves, the same as us. From the moment they enlist, their lives are stolen from them. I understand what it is to hate them. I know how it feels to watch them drag my parents away.”
Tears pour hot down my cheeks. I have their attention, a hundred eyes watching me bare my grief.
“I heard the shot that killed my mother. And the one that killed my father. I know the pain that gnaws in your hearts. I feel it too. But so do they!”
I stop, my breaths heavy, watching the people consider my words. I catch a glimpse of Meli moving through the back of the crowd near Ian. Each time her face comes into view, the fire in her eyes fuels me.
“Please,” I say, quieter. “Look past the pain and see that these are men. They are people, like us. And as long as a person has a beating heart and working lungs…there is hope there. The men who attacked us are cowards. Traitors. But don’t judge them all because of a few bad men.”
Norma’s face flashes in my mind when I say her words: her gentle smile, the easy way she dealt with my anger. Warmth fills me.
Solomon steps forward.
“I will answer any questions you have. But please,” he says. “Consider what Hannah has said. Consider the idea that those men who you have been taught to fear might be more than the soulless monsters you knew them to be. I won’t pretend that they are all good at heart. And we mourn together tonight after these attacks. But there is evil on both sides. My friends, if we can rally the good, bring together the like-minded, our force will be stronger than anything the Council can throw at us.”
“How long?” a voice asks. “How long will you give them?”
“We have only days,” Takeshi says.
I step closer to Cash and let Solomon and Takeshi take control of the moment. Wiping my tears with my sleeve, I watch the transformation. Some still aren’t convinced; they grit their teeth and mutter to one another. Tonight’s betrayal is still hot in their eyes. But there are others, many more, who nod as Solomon talks.
It isn’t enough to free the Workers. We have to free everyone.
15
“You were amazing,” Meli says. We’re walking the hall in quick strides, hurrying toward the brick room because Solomon asked us to. My heart is still pounding.
“She’s right,” Takeshi says behind us. “You’re the only reason we won the majority over.”
Cash catches up, walking to my right.
“Thank you,” he says quietly, leaning so his words are private. “It was better coming from you.”
I’m still shaking from the rush of spilling my heart so openly. I don’t answer, but I feel calmer with him near me.
The brick room has been stripped of furniture and is now full of muscled bodies. I squeeze in next to Cash, feeling out of place. Ian steps in just as the room grows quiet.
“As soon as the sun sets,” Solomon is saying. “You’ll leave. There are three meetings arranged tonight, each in separate sectors of the valley.”
“How do we know they’re secure?” a man asks. He has blond hair cut short, and his body is tall and lean-muscled; clearly a Watcher, but less built than some of the others. He looks made for speed.
“We don’t,” Takeshi says. His calculating gaze moves over the room. “And let me speak to any of you who may be conflicted in your loyalties. Remember who you’re making deals with. The Council may threaten your families today, but they threaten your generations to come if we lose this. Consider that before you make a choice you can’t undo.”
Everyone shifts, uneasy at the idea of a traitor. But even Commander Sterling assured me they were planted among us. And now we’ve seen that it’s true.
“I’m sending you in groups of three,” Solomon says. He calls out the list: Two Watchers paired with Meli; Ian, Takeshi, and Brookes—the tall, lean man; and Drew paired with two Watchers named Thomas and Phil. Cash wastes no time in objecting. Solomon lifts a hand to stop him.
“You, as well as Hannah, are among the most hunted faces in the valley,” he says. “You cannot ask me to send you into the lion’s den when you are the prized meal.”
“This is my responsibility,” Cash says. “I can’t send others to do my job.”
“They can relay our message effectively—”
“With respect, I believe my presence will be more effective.”
“He has a point,” Takeshi says. “And given how fast our deadline is approaching, we need to send the most powerful message we can. Cash might be the best chance we have.”
“I want to go too,” I say. The words blurt out before I can pause and consider their weight. All eyes are on me now, and I stare back at them, willing myself to remain steady.
“Out of the question,” Solomon says.
“I can help.” I take a step away from Cash.
“They’ll see how we’ve united,” I say. “Watchers and Workers. They’ll see the trust. Let me do this.”
“Hannah,” Cash murmurs. I turn to face him.
There are a million pleas running through my head. Countless excuses and reasons flooding into my mind. Most of them aren’t good enough. What I end up saying is, “I can do this.”
“This is insane,” Brookes says. He turns, sweeping a hand toward me. “Do you even know how to shoot a gun?”
“I trained her myself,” Cash says, stepping forward and matching Brookes’ glare.
“I admire your courage, Hannah,” Solomon says, peering at me over his glasses. “But this feels unwise. You’re still healing—”
“I climbed the mountain and made it here fine. Maybe my skin is still healing, but inside I’m strong. I promise.”
I don’t break eye contact with him. I hope my expression communicates my unwillingness to back down. When Solomon breaks the gaze to rub his forehead, I glance at Drew. He nods at me.
“Let her go,” Meli says, pushing through and standing in the center of the group. “She wants to do this, so let her. Isn’t freedom the point? She is free to decide whether to risk her life or not.” She glares at the others, daring them to contradict her.
“Of course,” Solomon says. “I understand what you’re saying. And yes, Hannah. You are free to make your own choices. Bu
t risks should still be calculated and weighed. There is no wisdom in throwing yourself into danger simply because you can.”
“That isn’t what I’m doing—”
“It’s more than that,” Brookes says. His eyes challenge Solomon. “Look at her! You can’t dress her in fatigues, because no one will believe she’s a Watcher. She’s too small. There’s no way to make her blend. She’ll give us away the moment we run into trouble.”
The room fills with muttered agreements. My gaze sticks to the floor, and I think. Brookes is right. Meli is tall and strong. But I am small. I can’t pass for a soldier of any kind.
“Dress me in Worker clothes,” I say, drawing the attention back. “Treat me like I’m in trouble. Drag me if you have to. They won’t question you if they think you’re brutalizing a Worker.”
Cash stares at me. Solomon studies me too, hands set on his hips.
“Please,” I say.
Even while I hold my gaze steady, memories flash in my mind: Edan’s eyes pleading with me to trust him in the rainy alley. Cash shielding me from the glass. Ian’s voice keeping me from slipping into death. I owe my life to Watchers. It feels like a debt I need to repay.
“What’s the hold up here?” Drew says. “You want the Watchers to choose this revolution, let them see that face.” He points at me. “You’re all stuck in a loop: Watchers are evil. Workers are worthless. So break the cycle. Let her tell them she wants their help. The surest way to get the Watchers to join you is if they can see themselves as something more than killers. Am I right?”
The men are nodding, and my pulse quickens. I keep my gaze on Solomon. Meli says I’m free to decide, but Solomon has the authority here.
After looking at Takeshi for a long time, the two silently coming to a decision, he finally says, “All right.”
I open my mouth to thank him, but he stops me. “This is against my better judgment, Hannah. But after your words in the cafeteria…I believe you have it in you to make a difference in this situation. And we need all the help we can get. This is a risk we might need to take.”
Hero (Book Two) Page 9
