by Summer Lane
I sob like a child, and so does he. The rain pours and the smoke of battle begins to settle and the militia chants songs of victory and I cannot fathom how I am here, and how I have arrived at this place.
“Cassidy,” Dad says. “My brave, dangerous daughter. You’ve gone and won yourself a war.”
“No,” I cry, choking through tears. “We have won ourselves a war.”
I feel Chris’s arms close around me, and then Vera is there, and Andrew and Manny, Elle, Arlene, Uriah, and even Bravo. We huddle together, and the battle is over, we are together, and I close my eyes, because this is the end…
And it is so much different than I thought it would be.
***
The first few hours after the battle, the militias clear out the city. They kill remaining Omega stragglers, and the Air Force hits the open sea, destroying any remaining ships in the Athena Strike Fleet. We receive radio calls from across the country, glorious reports of victory. Omega has been pushed back everywhere, everywhere.
Militias continue to pour into the city, hailing from across the nation by the thousands, drawn here by reports of a final stand, here to help keep Omega out, no matter the cost.
But the Rangers….they are the most shocking, the most surprising.
The Rangers – or most of them, at least – were absorbed into the Freedom Fighters after my father was supposedly killed in Omega’s bombing of the capitol building in Sacramento. Yet these brand-new forces are a complete surprise to me – and everyone else.
The militias set up massive white tenting over the parking lot below the hotel where we were stationed. Sick and wounded are nursed back to health in a medical tent on the edge of the property, and my men gather in the biggest tent together.
Chris, Uriah, myself, and the rest of my friends sit around my father, who is chewing amiably on a piece of gum, his hat resting on a plastic table.
“After the bombing Sacramento,” Dad begins, talking slowly, “I was trapped under the rubble for three days. I thought I was dead, and honestly, by the time three days went by, I pretty much was. But the rescue teams eventually cleared all the rubble, and they pulled me out. Funny thing is, when they saw it was me, they moved me to a medical building on the other side of the city.”
“I didn’t know there was one,” I murmur.
“Nobody did,” Dad replies, mysterious. “As soon as I was well enough, I had a little chat with the guy who had ordered me moved to that medical unit, and I think you’re pretty well acquainted with him, Cassidy: General Beckham.”
My eyes widen.
“Are you kidding me?” I ask.
“I kid not,” Dad replies, winking, and I feel like crying again, just watching him move – alive and in the flesh. Am I dreaming? Is this real?
“Beckham made me an offer,” Dad continues. “He was organizing a secret contingency force in the Midwest, away from the major skirmishes going on all across the West Coast. He wanted something underground and separate from the militia forces here, in case they were needed. He had a force of six hundred men in Texas, and he wanted me to take command and get them ready to fight.”
“I thought Beckham was locked in a bunker in Sector 13 until the Locke Initiative was activated,” Vera points out.
“Beckham wasn’t,” Dad shrugs. “But his troops were. Make no mistake, Beckham was a brilliant man, and the biggest mistake Omega ever made may have been trusting him.” Here, he smiles a little. “I had to make a choice, Cassidy, just like you’ve had to make a lot of choices. I could come back to the militias in California…or I could use the fact that Omega thought another militia commander was dead and get ready for a much bigger, final fight, with the element of surprise on my side.” He leans forward, folding his hands together. “I’m sorry I had to do it in secret, Cassie. I really am. But I trusted you to survive. I had to.”
I swallow, and I want to be angry with him. I really do.
But if it wasn’t for Beckham, and Dad, and Chris, and the secrets they kept…the militias would never have had the reinforcements they did and we would never have been able to push Omega out.
“I understand,” I say.
“So I went,” Dad goes on. “I went to Texas and I trained the men, and I waited for Beckham’s orders…but they never came, so I made the assumption that he was dead. Lucky for us, we were able to stay away from Omega’s drone surveillance. Underground. But then I heard about this mysterious militia commander who was recruiting troops for a final push against Omega, and I thought, That’s Chris Young. It has to be. And I took my men and we hit the road and here we are. Looks we like we walked in just in time, too.”
“Thank you,” I breathe, folding my hands. “Dad, if it wasn’t for your backup-”
“This entire war has been a group effort,” he interrupts, laughing. “I’d say all of you earned a little help, right?”
Everyone nods at the same time, and Dad laughs again.
“Well, I didn’t see this coming,” Manny admits, chuckling. “To think I’d see Frank Hart living and breathing again and California completely free from Omega control…it’s a sight to behold, and I could get used to it.”
Arlene beams up at him, and Elle sits on the floor with her arms around Bravo.
“So what happens now?” Elle asks, looking at us expectantly. “We kicked Omega…for now. Don’t you think they’ll be back?”
“I don’t know,” Chris admits. “I think they’ll try, eventually. But right now they’re weak, and we’re getting stronger. We’ve survived, and we’ve stopped them. They might try to rebuild, but we’ll be ready.”
“We need a source of leadership,” Vera says. “President Banner-”
“-Is dead,” Dad interrupts. He looks at me. “The Sector 13 guards there turned on him and killed him…and his family.”
I say nothing because in that moment I know that Dad is aware that I killed Saul Banner, and that Abbi and Mary are really alive – and free, for the first time in their lives – and that he understands why I did what I did. For a split second, I am terrified that everyone will know that I was the killer – that I assassinated him…but the second passes and nobody blinks.
“So we’ll need a new president,” Andrew says. “We’ll find one.”
“Wow, so nonchalant,” Manny remarks. “You hear that the president just got assassinated and nobody blinks an eye. It’s almost as if nobody liked him or voted for the sorry sap the first time around.”
Andrew shrugs, and I realize, too:
Nobody is sad to see Banner go. Not really.
“So we call another convention,” I suggest. “We pick some candidates. We elect a new president and we start over. We protect ourselves. We get ready for anything that might come our way, and we’ll be smarter than we ever were before.”
“Europe has survived this, thanks to you,” Dad adds. “Most of the world – or what’s left of it, anyway – will want to join forces with us to make sure Omega never comes to power again. We will spend years eradicating all traces of them from the earth…their roots run deep. Very deep.”
“I’m all for more alliances,” Manny grins.
“Me, too,” I agree.
“So we have a plan,” Elle says. “Cool.”
“Yeah, cool,” I reply, smiling. “But for the time being, we bury our dead, we nurse our wounded, and we get the states together to unite for another convention. This time – all of the remaining states.”
“Yes,” Chris agrees. “All of them.”
“And how do we make sure that the next person we put into power doesn’t really work for Omega?” Uriah suddenly says. “How do we know that Omega turncoats still aren’t in our ranks?”
“Because at this point,” I tell him, “loyalty is all we have left. We’ve killed everyone else.”
It’s sad, but it’s true, and the reality of the finality of this war hits me.
It’s over. The desperate struggle, the complete terror, the slavery to Omega’s attacks, an
d our constant battle to keep our heads above the water.
We are still standing. We held onto hope, and we emerged victorious.
And now, we are going to rebuild.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Two Weeks Later, Central Valley of California – Militia Zone
The Militia Zone is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in years. The rains have brought green growth to the valley, and for the first time since the Collapse, the flowers begin blooming and the Kings River roars with water.
We have erected our base of operations near the slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, in the foothills of Squaw Valley. All around us, the familiar golden grass of my memory sways in the breeze. In just two weeks, the militias worked to erect buildings and a fence around a huge facility we have called Fort Beckham,in honor of the man who did so much to fight Omega and bring us all together.
There are cars and vehicles everywhere, Black Hawks roam the skies, flying overwatch, and patrols rumble through the hills constantly. Despite the close of the war and the destruction of the Athena Strike Fleet, we will never let our guard down again.
Never.
Inside Fort Beckham, there is a huge mess hall and dozens of barracks, along with a row of private quarters. On the edge of the property, there is an auditorium, and it is buzzing with activity. The state militias have arrived, and we are convening to nominate a man for president, a man to help us rebuild this place we have fought so hard for, a man who can lead us through the wreckage and memory of the deaths of the millions who have perished in this war and somehow help us to thrive in spite of it all.
The horror of what we have been through will never be forgotten. Because if it ever is, we will fall prey to an enemy like Omega again, and the fight will rage on like before. We must remember yesterday so that we can preserve tomorrow.
I stand in front of the mirror in my quarters, and I slowly dress.
A small smile touches my lips as I think of the events to come. I have no doubt that Chris will sweep the votes. People love him, and everyone is well aware that he will make an excellent leader in this country we call home. He will lead all of us with both wisdom and fairness. He is the best choice, and my heart swells with the thought of it. Margaret Young and Isabel will be so proud.
I pull on clothes that I have not worn since before the Collapse. A clean white skirt and a delicate sky-blue blouse, along with a pair of elegant but incredibly uncomfortable open-toe heels. After wearing nothing but combat boots and tactical gear for the entire length of the war…I feel naked and unprotected in this attire.
I’ll have to suck it up.
Today is going to be a formal affair, and I have been instructed to dress nice. So I slip on the shoes, comb my hair, and arrange it into a loose bun at the nape of my neck. I look myself over and I realize that, despite the scars I carry and the utter pain that will always hide behind my eyes…I don’t look terrible. In fact, for the first time since the apocalypse, I look like a real woman, and that scares me. I’m not used to this. Not at all.
The room is barren, with only a small cot and a bathroom. Every building here is portable, but eventually everything will be replaced with permanent structures. This place will go on to become the capitol of what the militias have dubbed the Western Republic, the coalition of states that banded together to fight Omega. Canada and Mexico have returned to their own homes to build their countries up again…but we remain strong allies, and I am grateful for them, always.
Thump, thump, thump.
Someone knocks lightly on my door, and I open it. It’s Uriah, and he is dressed nicer than I have ever seen him: dark shirt tucked into jeans, clean boots, his overgrown hair trimmed and tousled nicely, framing his dark eyes and strong jawline. He wears a leather jacket over his shirt, and his dog tags are clearly visible around his neck.
“Hey,” I say, offering a smile. “What’s up?”
“Can I come in?” he asks.
I nod, stepping aside.
He moves inside, his lips pressed together.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
He looks at me, taking in the skirt, the blouse, the hair.
“I know,” I snort. “Girly and totally impractical. I was told-”
“You look beautiful,” he interrupts. “Completely beautiful.”
I blink, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks.
“Um, wow,” I reply. “A compliment? Thank you.”
“I meant it, Cassie.”
I say nothing. He steps close to me, and God – I want to kiss him. I want to kiss him more than I want to do anything else in this moment, but he just holds my face in his hands and whispers, “I came to say goodbye.”
I stare at him.
“What?”
“I came to say goodbye.”
“I heard you the first time. What are you talking about?”
“I’m leaving.”
I step away from him, and I can feel my heart beginning to thunder, the fear creeping into my voice.
“No,” I say. “You’re not. Why would you do that?”
“Because my part is played out,” he replies. “And because I’m in love with you, Cassidy, and I can’t have you because Chris is alive, and I can’t live like that. I have to go.”
“Uriah, Chris and I aren’t even together right-”
“You will be,” he interrupts. “You know you will.”
“Actually, I-”
“He loves you. And he deserves you more than I do.” He looks at the ceiling, as if laughing at himself. “God knows I never deserved you, Cassie.”
“Uriah, you can’t just leave!” I say, and now I am panicking. “You belong here, with us. We’re your family. You need us just as much as we need you.”
“I don’t need anyone,” Uriah snaps. “The only person I ever needed was you, and you’re taken care of, now. So I’m free to go.”
“Free?” I echo, hurt. “So that’s how you see me – all of us? Like some kind of dead weight, dragging you down? All this time, we’ve fought and died next to each other, Uriah. It’s not like any of us were forcing you to stay.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw, and he turns away, walking to the small window.
“I’m a killer,” he says, quietly. “I don’t fit into this world now.”
“Of course you do! You don’t have to be a martyr. I mean, where would you even go?”
“Anywhere,” he shrugs. “There are plenty of Omega loyalists to hunt. I figure I’ll do that for a while.”
“That’s no life,” I reply. “That’s self-inflicted punishment.”
“Maybe I deserve it.”
“Uriah, we are all killers. We’re all the same here.”
Uriah turns around, and I am shocked to see tears running down his face.
“I love you,” he whispers, his voice thick and broken. “You gotta know that everything I’ve ever done has been for you, Cassidy. Tell me you understand.”
I walk to him, placing my hands on his cheeks.
“I know,” I say, softly. “Uriah, I know.”
I am suddenly overwhelmed with the reality of what he is saying…he really is saying goodbye, and I cannot handle it. Uriah, always so loyal and stalwart, always brave and untouchable, the ultimate warrior companion and watchful guardian.
He kisses me, and I let him, because it’s a goodbye kiss and I can’t deny him that.
I feel his strong body under my fingers and the rapid beat of his heart, the raggedness of his breathing and the faint scent of whiskey and gunpowder. He holds me against him and everything in the world is Uriah True, and I am consumed by him completely.
He lays me on the bed and looks at me for a long moment, tracing the curve of my face with his calloused sniper’s fingers.
“It was an honor loving you,” he whispers. “You are it for me.”
“Uriah, please don’t go,” I say.
He kisses me again, and I pull him closer. I know he wants to stay, but he inhales and then he turn
s away, getting to his feet.
“You can’t just disappear,” I say, and now I am crying.
“I’ll be watching,” he says sadly.
“No. Don’t say that. Tell me you’ll come back to visit, at least.”
He doesn’t.
“Uriah!” I throw my arms around his neck, breaking into painful sobs. “Please, no. I’m begging you. Stay. You’re my family – without you here, it will be like we’re missing part of our heart.”
Uriah slowly removes my hands and kisses each one.
“Go show those militias who’s boss,” Uriah replies, forcing a smile. “Nobody can do it better than you.”
“Uriah-”
One last kiss. He kisses me one last time and then he steps away from me.
“Don’t look for me,” he says. “You won’t find me.”
“Uriah-”
He turns away, hiding the tears, and he slips outside. I follow, running after him. He moves across the fort compound, and it is mostly empty because everyone is gathered at the auditorium where the convention will start in just a few moments.
“Uriah!” I cry.
He stops and turns back to look at me.
We lock gazes, and I lift my chin.
“I got your six,” I say, tasting my tears on my lips.
“I got yours,” he mouths.
And then he is gone, and I am left alone, standing with nothing but his memory and the broken dream of what might have been.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Freedom Fighters and the Angels of Death gather in the front row of the auditorium. Portable bleachers serve as our seats, and a large stage has been erected near the back wall. It is crowded with representatives from militias across the country. It’s massive compared to the convention held with Banner in Morro Bay, and a huge American flag hangs on the wall beside an equally huge, brand-new militia flag: a blue flag with a gold star in the center, surrounded by a ring of silver stars, each representing one of the militias convened here today.
I sit beside Vera and Andrew, Manny and Elle on my right. Bravo sits at her feet, as always, and his happy face fills me with joy. Father Kareem nods at me from across the room, Sister Leslie’s arm hooked through his. My father sits with his lieutenants from the Rangers, and he smiles broadly when he sees me. I give a little wave, afraid that my eyes are still red and puffy from crying.
