by C. B. Stone
Jaelynn leans over and whispers in my ear, “Fay, I think he means to say he loves you.”
I stiffen. There is that word again. That wretched, horrid, terrible word. Why is it so terrible? Because love makes you weak. Love clouds issues and muddies waters. And even worse, for a soldier, love makes you hesitate when what is needed is swift action. Love makes you afraid to leave this earth when it’s your time. Love means there are people depending on your survival, when your only job should be to die fighting if necessary. Love complicates everything.
I hastily shove the thought aside that maybe, just maybe, I love Calden too. Except it won’t be shoved aside. But before I can even figure out what to do with my feelings, he is already spinning on his heel and walking away. An overwhelmingly terrible feeling that I may never see him again rushes through me.
“Now is your chance,” Jaelynn urges. “Maybe your last chance.”
Again Jaelynn merely confirms what I already know. But how can I tell him? And even if I do tell him, does that mean he will depend on me coming back alive? What if I don’t? Will he ever forgive himself for letting me go in the first place?
Maybe it’s better for him to think I don’t love him back. Would that make it easier for him to let go if needed? Or would it only serve to make it harder?
I let out a disgusted groan, tossing my hands up in the air. And why, oh why, do I have to deal with these questions right now?
Looking at Jaelynn and Noah I jerk my head in Cal’s direction. “Let’s go.” I stalk off, spine stiff.
XV
JAELYNN
The group starts walking north shortly after we arise and watch the confrontation between Fay and Cal. Pacing ourselves, we watch the sun crest over the dead trees, rising higher and higher into the sky as we travel farther and farther north. No one speaks, and I only know the name of Calden. I don’t know the names of any of the others who have joined us. There are about a dozen soldiers altogether, each of them suited up and ready to fight. We can’t have too many with us, otherwise we might be seen from above by the air patrol. This way, with such a small group and with the cover of the heavy trees providing a shield of sorts, there’s a chance of getting away.
Onward we trudge, with no laughter, no joking, no words exchanged at all between anyone. Noah and I trade glances every now and then, but the tension in the air around us is palpable and the silence is oppressive. Finally, I can’t handle it any longer. I pipe up, “Dove’s Peak, does anyone know anything about this elusive place?”
Although I’m only trying to make conversation, Calden scowls at me.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize, frowning.
“No, don’t be,” Cal says, lifting his hands in apology, a marked sadness in his voice. “I don’t mean to seem angry. It’s nothing to do with you. It’s just – well – you know.” He changes the subject. “I don’t really know much about Dove’s Peak, other than what legends have said.”
“And what do the legends say?” I encourage him, eager to hear more.
Noah seems equally intrigued. Perhaps this might stir some of his own memories of what little he was told or the bits he remembers of it.
“That you’ll know the peak once you see it,” he shrugs. “That the mountain range is a sight to behold, truly a gift from God. Snow-capped mountains with plenty of streams with clear, clean water to drink. Animals galore for hunting too. If the stories are to be believed, we’ll not want for food.”
“You mean we might have meat again soon?” Noah asks, excitement coloring his voice.
“As soon as we find this place, yes,” Calden replies.
“You talk like we’re definitely going to find this place, yet others say it may not even exist?” I ask. “What if we’re on a wild goose chase?”
“Do you have faith, Jaelynn?”
It is a simple question with a simple answer. “Yes. Yes, I do Officer Atar, why do you ask?”
“Please, call me Cal. Everyone else does. And the answer to your question lies in the answer to the same one I just asked you. If you have faith in God, in a force you can’t see, hear, or touch, and the message from Him is to find some specific place, then you should believe the place is there to be found. Otherwise your faith is sorely lacking.”
I do hear from Him, though. Maybe Cal doesn’t realize it, but I hear from Him regularly. Of course that doesn’t take away from the message Cal is trying to convey.
“Does that make sense?” he asks, after a few seconds of me not saying anything.
“I suppose it does,” I nod, offering him a small smile. I keep silent about God talking to me though.
We walk for a few moments more, the silence and tension still heavy in the air around us. Studying him from the corner of my eye as we walk, I realize the expression on Cal’s face is one of worry. His brow is furrowed, his jaw clenched tight. I want to reach out to him, to ask him if he is scared for Fay, but I’m not at all sure that it’s appropriate. Besides, of course he’s scared for her. If it were Noah we’d left behind, I’d be terrified. They would have to drag me off, kicking and screaming. I would never go willingly, that’s for sure.
If Cal loves Fay, then why did he leave her so easily? How could he just leave her behind, knowing she’s within death’s reach? How could he leave her behind, knowing that soon enough she could be under attack while he is a safe distance away, unable to help her?
All of these questions plague my mind and trouble my heart, but there’s no way I can voice them. Not now, probably not ever.
When I think about Noah, and what it felt like that time I thought he’d died on me, it just about rips my heart out from the inside. Or I should say, the time he did die on me, and then came back from the dead. A shudder wracks my body just at the memory. I hardly knew him back then. That was well before this journey brought us so close together, and yet still, even then it had hurt so much to think of him as just gone. At the time it’d felt like a piece of my heart had died with him. Like someone ripped out my organs, one by one.
And now? If something like that were to happen to Noah now, I’m not sure I’d even survive it. Not because I’d kill myself or anything crazy, but because the pain of my heart being broken would be more than I can bear.
Looking over at him, I smile and he smiles back. My heart melts just a little more with every look, and I shove old and painful memories aside. We’re together. We love one another. That’s what matters right now, and it’s such a wondrous feeling. It’s something I’m hard-pressed to even describe.
So why would Fay push that away? Why would Cal let her? It’s right there, within her grasp, and I can tell that she loves him every bit as much as he loves her, yet she stayed silent when she could have told him. And now, she could go to her grave never having told the man she loves how she feels in return.
And all because of what? Pride? Ego? Something else? I shake my head, staring at the ground as I walk, lost in my head. I can’t understand any of it. I probably never will.
XVI
FAYNE
After Cal left with Noah and Jaelynn, I felt as though I could finally breathe. With them gone, at least I know they’re safe and I can keep my focus where it belongs, on the task at hand. Still, watching them when they walked off into the distance wasn’t easy. It may have been one of the hardest moments of my life. I sigh heavily. In silence, I’d watched them until they were little more than small, dark specks on the horizon. And then they were gone from sight completely. Now I’m left with nothing but a heavy heart.
Cal outright admitted he loved me. But, does he know what love is? Could a warrior, knowing that every day could very well be their last, truly know what love is?
Of course we can, I mentally scold myself. We love God, don’t we? And if we love Him, then surely we know what it means to love one another. But in the back of my mind, a tiny voice keeps whispering, telling me that the feelings of love we have for God are not the same kinds of feelings one would feel for another mortal. And by that reasoning, how t
hen can I know if I truly love Cal?
We have never kissed, never held hands or exchanged loving words. Cal and I have never shown each other any sort of outward affection- at least, not in the traditional sense of the word, anyway. When we were children, we played alongside one another, and as adults, we fought alongside each other too. But is that love? Is protecting one another, watching over each other, and even tending to each other’s wounds, love? If we never spoke such words, could it be real? My heart tells me it very well could be.
But because of the time at hand- and the outcome I anticipate- I know that not telling him my true feelings was for the best. It means that he won’t mourn too long, and leaves him open to love another someday.
“Commander Pythe,” a voice calls out from a distance away. “The air patrol is within a few miles of us and is closing fast. What’s the word?”
Dread washes over me. It’s too soon. We aren’t prepared to meet the Ministry’s troops yet. All this time, I thought I’d be with my full army when the actual war starts and that we would fight and die as one. But with our forces split, I know we aren’t nearly as strong. We need those troops from Wellington and the other regions, and we need them now. Without them, the situation is looking bleak.
I let none of that show, however. “We shall fight. What else can we do?” I respond, pulling out my weapon.
Guns aren’t normal issue for folks outside of the Ministry, but Bethel held on to a few remaining relics from days gone by. My weapon of choice will always be the sword, but it requires you to get right up on the person and fight in close quarters. With a gun, I’m able to kill from a distance. It’s cold. Dispassionate. But guns serve their purpose, I suppose.
Gripping the weapon in my hand, I’m thankful my father taught me how to use a firearm every bit as well as I use the sword. Others in my army had never touched a gun until they began training. And for many, training had only started several weeks ago. It’s obvious that some are better suited to fighting with a bow and arrow or daggers and swords, rather than bullets.
Some never quite feel comfortable wielding a weapon that can kill with a mere pull of the trigger. I can’t say that I blame them either. But we won’t win this war without using some of the same technology the Ministry uses- even though the Ministry’s weapons still remain far superior than any old relics the people of Bethel might possess.
The soldier nods his head, but his eyes scream in protest. No one ever protests an order from the commander though. No one except Cal, that is, and only that one time.
“As you wish it,” the man says, sending word down the line to the others.
The earth below my feet begins to vibrate, and the wind blows up a thick cloud of dust and dead leaves from the parched earth, making it hard to see. But I don’t have to see in order to know the Ministry is here. This very well may be the end. And if it is, I’m ready to meet Him. Still, my heart thuds erratically, and a part of me is full of sorrow. Sorrow that I may never get the chance to see Cal again. Sorrow that my entire life has been spent fighting, without a moment spent on love.
In that second, right before my almost certain death, I find myself praying fervently for a miracle. I want to live. For the first time in my life, I want to survive. And of course, this revelation and the fear it stirs within me, springs up like a malignant Jack-in-the-Box, moments before death is scheduled to appear. The irony of the situation is not lost on me.
It’s not only my death that scares me so much, but those of my soldiers as well. Many of them have families back in Bethel and elsewhere. Others, much like me, have been so consumed with the fight, they’ve never had the chance to contemplate starting a family. They’d never had children or gotten married. And now they may die, here and now, in a blast of fire that’s going to rain down on us at any moment.
And then it’s there. The Ministry air craft hovers above us and a loud sound rumbles the ground beneath our feet, trembling and shuddering. Shots are fired. Multiple shots from an advanced firearm, one that I’ve heard about, but never seen. A yawning chasm opens up with my stomach as the realization that the end is now here settles over my shoulders with a terrible weight.
But the gunfire isn’t coming from the Ministry ship that hovers over our heads. As I look around, I can see the shots didn’t come from my troops either. They couldn’t have. My army doesn’t have that kind of weaponry, nothing that can fire multiple shots in quick succession.
So then, who is it?
An explosion lights up the sky and the trembling of the ground beneath us redoubles as the air craft overhead is turned into a vibrant fireworks display unlike anything I’ve seen before. My mouth drops open in shock as I watch the flaming, smoking wreckage fall from the sky. In that moment, I realize I’m always so wrapped in cynicism, that this is the first time I’ve ever been taken aback by something in my life. Stunned disbelief rises inside me, my eyes struggling to comprehend what I’m seeing. The aircraft is there one second, hovering over us like an evil specter. And then it’s gone, in a puff and a flash. Just like that. All that remains is the smoldering pieces lying on the dry, parched earth.
I watch as another Ministry craft dotting the sky meets a similar fate. Then I gasp as one by one, more air craft come tumbling down to earth in fiery heaps. All of this is occurring without me, without anyone in my army, even lifting a weapon.
But how? Had He reached down and intervened on our behalf? It’s the only thing that makes any sense to me as I watch every singe air craft get struck down by a power far superior to anything I’ve ever seen before.
“What’s going on?” a voice yells out from nearby, although I can barely hear it.
And I can’t answer. For once in my life, I have no answer. I’m speechless. Unable to take my eyes off the carnage unfolding before my eyes, I simply remain silent, watching the fires light up in the heavens. I’d prayed for a miracle, and it looks as though my wish is being granted.
My ears are ringing from the sound of the thunderous explosions, and I can hear hardly anything. People keep talking and yelling around me, their mouths moving, and I know they’re shouting at me. But I can’t hear them. It’s like I’ve gone deaf. I don’t even realize when the explosions stop, because I can still hear them in my head, plain as day.
And then it’s over. And we are alive. God bless us all, we’re alive. And as far as I can tell, no casualties on our side. The Ministry never got off a single shot. Not a single one.
I fall to my knees, my cheeks soaked with tears I didn’t realize I was crying. My head spins, and the sounds of explosions still ring in my head. I collapse forward, face down in the dirt, drenching the earth beneath me with my tears. Soldiers gather around me, concerned, checking for any signs of injury.
But it’s not an injury they can see. It’s not an injury they can treat. No, this injury is far too deep for anyone to see. Only me, and God, even knew it was there.
Thank you, I whisper into the dirt.
XVII
JAELYNN
Noah and I sit around the campfire in silence. Cal is on guard, but doesn’t say a word to either of us. He fiddles with his sword, turning it over in his hands again and again, staring at the blade like his reflection in it might hold all the answers he seeks.
Instead of allowing us to create food for everyone, Cal sent several of the others out hunting. And they still aren’t back. My tummy growls, and I grimace, but I know there are bigger concerns than my empty belly. I can’t take my eyes off Cal. If there is only something I could say, anything, that might make things better, I sure wish I knew what it is. As it appears though, Cal isn’t open to talking to us anyway. My heart aches for Fay and him, but I know this isn’t something I can fix for them.
Noah and I keep to ourselves, respecting his privacy, and keeping quiet even as we snuggle together for warmth. Noah kisses my forehead softly and I nuzzle even closer. Knowing he’s with me, that he’s okay, fills my heart with a profound sense of relief. Pressing my body to hi
s, I take comfort in the heat he emits, in his life and vitality. I honestly no longer know what I’d ever do without him, and I refuse to allow thoughts like that to take up space in my head.
Cal sits up straight, instantly alert. He stares off into the distance like a dog that’s heard something no one else can. Standing up, he holds his sword at the ready, prepared to fight whatever is out there if need be. The four other men who stayed behind with us follow suit, forming a protective circle around us. Noah pulls me even closer, but I feel him reach down into his bag next to us for something.
No one dares ask what is happening. I hear nothing, absolutely nothing, but if I have to judge by the reaction of those around me, there is definitely something worrisome out there. It’s so quiet, I swear I can hear the blood rushing through my veins. I know it’s impossible, but it sounds as loud as a rushing river. Still, there’s not a peep from the woods around us, not even wind blowing through the trees. It’s as though the world around us is holding its breath, waiting.
Cal moves forward quietly, moving in near silence. He reaches the outer edges of light thrown off by the campfire and is instantly swallowed by darkness. He is both unseen and unheard, a stealthy warrior of the night. Two of the others follow him, while the other two flank me and Noah.
Footsteps. The sound of footsteps can be heard in the distance. They are running, fast, right in our direction. My stomach does somersaults, and then immediately plummets, and a cold sweat breaks out across my skin. I’m ready to jump out of my skin my body is wound so tightly, and I’m ready to run far and run fast on a moment’s notice. Shaking, not from the cold but from the adrenaline, I huddle closer to Noah and pray it’s only those soldiers Cal sent out earlier for food.
But why are they running? And if it is them, what the heck are they running from? To have that many soldiers running cannot be good. Whatever is following them has to be worrisome and dangerous enough that they opted to flee rather than fight. My imagination starts to get the best of me as I begin picturing any number of different horrors. Is it the Ministry troops? Did they finally find us? Is this the end? Am I going to die in Noah’s arms out here in the middle of nowhere?
