by Martha Adele
“Look.” I hold out the two vials side by side. “I went and got you these. The big one—”
Before I can finish, Mavis begins scooting away and shaking her head. “No. No medicine.”
“Mavis.” I put my hand on her leg and hold out the vials again. “The big one is the full dose, so it should help you sleep if you want. But the small one will just help you relax if you want to stay awake.”
She pauses and looks to the vials. Without saying anything, I put the large one back into my pocket and hand her the small dose.
Mavis takes it from my hand and stares at it for a bit, without injecting it or giving it back.
“Please take it,” I ask her. “This way, you will still be awake, but you won’t be suffering.”
She sighs and takes another moment to contemplate. Mavis injects her thigh with the vial just as another bomb drops. I watch as her eyes express pure horror in one second and slowly move to relaxation in the next. Her pupils take their time and dilate as the medicine kicks in and calms her.
Mavis pulls her knees back up to her chest and rests her head on her kneecaps without another word. I assume she is doing what I do and taking her time to enjoy the relaxation that we don’t ever seem to get without the medicine.
“So can I talk to you for a little bit?” I ask her.
She nods, never looking up.
“Thank you.” The more I speak of things other than the mountain and the bombs, the more Mavis will feel better, right? “So I am not much of a flower person. I mean, I like flowers, but not as much as my mom. She happens to be obsessed with lilies. Those orange and yellow ones to be specific. I don’t really know why, but she doesn’t like the pink or purple ones.”
Mavis’s breathing slows as I continue. “I guess her love of lilies has rubbed off on me. Just the other night, I couldn’t sleep. And for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about the orange and yellow lilies and how much better they are than the pink and purple ones.”
As I try to keep Mavis’s mind off the bombs, the chatter in the rest of the bunker steadily comes into focus. Everyone else in the bunker seems to be having a good time or is catching up on paperwork that they would be doing if they were back in their offices.
No one else seems to need the medicine.
I climb back up onto the bunk above Mavis and lie back onto the protruding mattress spring and the flat pillow. The large vial in my pocket I just received from the nurse clinks against another vial I have had in my pocket for an emergency.
The nurse won’t need the full-dose vial back; he has plenty in that bag. No one else really needs the medicine anyway.
I should probably keep it.
Mavis
I poke at my serving of mush with my fork as I listen to Mandy happily blab about something she heard earlier today from a friend.
I say “listen,” But I mean “tune out.”
After we freed Bloot and brought who we could back to Bergland, the announcements came back-to-back. “Meer has been successfully taken. They are now aiding us in the war … Bouw has been successfully taken. They are now aiding us in the war … Hout has been successfully taken. They are now aiding us in the war …”
We had four out of the six states captured within three days of this war. Everything was looking bright for the future. Everyone told me that this war would be over quickly, but everyone lied. It has been weeks since we have captured a state.
The last real announcement we heard came last week. General Wilson said that we moved all of the civilians back to Bloot, which had been secured, and that we would be dealing with Verwend and Minje after the announcement ended.
But guess what—we had been dealing with the two states for weeks, and no new news has come to the Bergland citizens. Janice knows what is going on, but I have only got to see her when she is teaching class, and she leaves right after to go and do “official” duties. I will admit, though, that she has done a great job of not leaking anything to her students who badger her with questions.
“Mavis?”
I look up from my food and to Mandy. “What?”
She narrows her eyes at me and gives an amused smile. “I figured you weren’t listening.”
“No, no.” I shake my head and smile to her. “I was.”
“Oh yeah? Then yes or no to the last question I asked you.”
Mandy and I lock eyes for a moment.
“Okay, maybe I wasn’t listening intently.”
“Right.” Mandy nods and looks back to her food, staring down at it. Her face freezes with a serious expression as her eyes focus on what’s left in her tray. Both she and I stay quiet for a moment—she, out of focus, and me, out of confusion.
“You see this?” she asks me without looking away from her scraps. “This is what you were doing.”
I roll my eyes as she breaks her gaze from her food and laughs at me.
“What were you thinking about anyway?” she snorts.
I shrug. “Nothing. I just got stuck staring.”
She nods. “I do that all the time. Just the other day, I got stuck staring at someone’s face as they were talking to someone else. Oh man, it was so funny. When he saw me star …”
My eyes fall on Sam as I begin to tune Mandy out once again. I watch him stand in the corner of the room, chatting to two other guys who seem a little older than we are. It is the same two guys for whom he left me this morning and went to talk with. I recognize them only because of the hammer tattoos on the neck one of the guys.
I have to wonder whether or not he left me for them because I didn’t hug him back. When he put his arm around me, it was one of the most comforting, yet uncomfortable feelings I’ve had in a long time.
Though I think he already felt like he needed to stay with me, the reason I didn’t hug him back is because I didn’t want him to feel like my babysitter. The hug that he gave me was comforting. I just wish I could comfort him the same way.
Vulnerability is not something I deal with well, and I have begun to think Sam feels the same way. Why else would he not allow me to comfort him when he was upset? The only real way that I can explain the fact that we don’t like being comforted is because the need to be comforted implies that we are vulnerable, weak even.
My brother felt the same way.
Back when Mom was with us, everything was great. No one was scared of coming home, and no one was scared of getting hurt.
Before Dad started seeing things, everything was great. Mom was with us, and no one was scared of him.
Before Dad’s drinking got bad, everything was great. We could afford food, and Steven and I were together.
The group of girls that sit behind us roar with laughter, bringing me back to Mandy’s story. “And that’s how I met Jonah. You remember me introducing you to Jonah, right?”
I look back over to Mandy and shake my head. “No. I don’t remember Jonah.”
“Are you sure? I thought I introduced you two.”
I nod. “I’m sure.”
The shift change bell above us rings, and the entire cafeteria scatters. Mandy waves goodbye to me and scurries off through the crowd. I take a few bites of my untouched meal and take off as well. Sam, Logan, and I usually are with Janice between breakfast and the first class of the day; but since she is preoccupied, Sam and I are free to go wherever. Today, I decide to head to the track and let Sam be with his new friends.
I get into the large and open room with the oval-shaped course and see people sprinting in one lane, jogging in another, and walking in the last lane. I decide to join the walking lane and take a few laps as I wait on the never-approaching announcement of our victory in the war.
Our.
I don’t know if I have the right to say “our” for either side. I was born a Stellen and have just recently become a Berglander. Bergland has the principles I agre
e with, but Bestellen is home. Everything I once knew is a lie, and everything I once thought to be home is now rubble.
Home.
I walk and think about Mom, Uncle Randy, and Steven. I think about how much they would have loved Bergland.
I walk and think about Derek and his mom. I think about how I have no clue whether either of them is alive at this very moment.
I walk and think about Logan and Eric. Logan took Eric’s side of the fight even though I doubt Eric even told him that anything happened.
I walk and think about how this war was supposed to be over within a week. How come it has been taking so long? How come we haven’t been told anything when there are obviously a million things they could have updated us on?
I walk and think.
Walk and think.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Logan
With my pistol holstered on one leg and a healing and throbbing wound on the other, I walk with Eric around the hospital of the injured we have been assigned to help protect. We notice that the bottom edges of the building have obvious damage from previous flooding. Neither of us is surprised. Almost every building in Meer has some sort of water damage in one way, shape, or form.
“I’ve always wanted to move here,” Eric confides in me after almost a half hour of silence between us.
“What?”
“Yeah.” He nods as we continue treading through what feels like swampland. “When we learned about all of the different states and about the careers each state offered, I always figured that I would have wanted to be a fisherman.” He pauses to pull his boot out of a pile of muck. “Though I have yet to see any of the lakes around here.”
I chuckle as we continue around the building. It amazes me how certain areas are filled with mud or drowned by rainwater, while other areas are as dry as can be, filled with sand and dried grass.
Though I missed being able to slosh around in ankle-deep rainwater when I was in Bergland, walking on dry land is much easier on my leg and back. With every step I take, the pain on my spine increases. The gunshot wound on my leg continues to throb, but it doesn’t seem to hurt nearly as much as my lower back. The nurse who treated me told me the back pain was a product of overcompensation, but that it should get better once I start walking around like I used to.
I don’t know if the nurse told me that because it was true or whether it was so that she could go work with the rest of the injured people. I understand either way, but it would be nice to know.
Though the pain can be blinding at times, I can handle it. There are so many other people who have been hurt worse than I have who need attention. Thousands upon thousands as a matter of fact. This hospital that Eric and I are guarding is only one of almost thirty within Meer alone.
All of the Stellens and Berglanders who have been hurt have been taken to one of these hospitals to be treated. Believe it or not, there are quite a few Stellens who have refused any help from Bergland because of how much they believe in Bestellen’s way of life.
Most all of the Stellens who don’t know anything about Bergland are together within their given state and having everything explained to them. I don’t know how exactly, but I imagine that Emily Hash has a whole presentation lined up for each one of the groups that includes around the same points that Mavis, Sam, and I were shown.
After they have been prepped and had things explained to them, all of those who want to help with the revolution are being utilized in one way or another. Most are off fighting; but others are helping in hospitals, fixing up and securing buildings, and helping explain to others what is going on.
While everything in these states is being taken care of, Verwend is in shambles. As the state that trained all of Bestellen’s military, produced all of their weapons, and protected its capital, it has taken the heaviest attacks and, at the same time, protected itself the best.
As almost every Verwend citizen fights against Bergland, the people of Minje have been viciously protected by its overwhelming official population. What we have heard is anyone who tries to rebel and fight with Bergland is shot by the nearest official, which is very difficult to avoid in Minje.
Through every twist and turn I made back when I lived there, I found one of the dark-suited men with his hand on his weapon. If that was the way Minje was before the war, I can’t imagine how it is right now. There is no doubt in my mind that Gramps was killed in an attempt to revolt. He was always the type of man who would stand up and fight if he needed to, no matter the cost. I do believe the only reason he wouldn’t have fought when John made the announcement to the states would be because he was already dead.
We were told that once we take over Minje, we should be able to move onto Verwend; and once we take over Verwend, Metropolis will surrender. They will have no choice in the matter. Metropolis is a glass-domed city inside of Verwend and has nowhere to go.
General Wilson has made it very clear to everyone. “If Meir and Metropolis do not surrender, they will be bombed. We will not invade and lose any more of our men and women.”
As Eric and I round the corner of the hospital and make it back to the front of the building, a familiar face approaches.
“How is hospital patrol going?” Werner asks us.
Eric chuckles and raises one of his boots to show the muck dangling off it. “Decent if you enjoy having to pull your feet through mud.”
He nods. “I see. How’s the pain treating you?”
“I’m actually feeling great.” Eric twists his body to show how well his side has healed.
“What about you, Forge?”
I shrug. “I can’t complain.”
“Have you been taking any of the medicine they set aside for you?” he asks us.
We shake our heads and answer in unison, “No.”
Werner allows a gentle smile to curl up on his face. “Good for you. They aren’t worth it.”
It pains me to see someone so opposed to painkillers the same way people are opposed to alcohol. Werner confided in us a week or so ago that his dad died of an overdose when Werner was a child. After buying and dealing different sorts of medication for years, his dad bought a bad batch because of how desperate he was for a hookup. Little did he know that bad batch would cost him his life.
Over the few weeks of the war, Werner has been promoted from Bloot rebel to Sergeant Rhodes. He has been all over, following General Wilson’s commands and doing whatever is needed of him. Today’s job must have included something that requires a bulletproof vest and a full suit ready for war.
“What are your plans for today, Rhodes?” I ask, scanning over his suit.
“I just came from a meeting with Young right outside of Minje.”
Eric and I exchange a glance. Eric asks him, “What’s going on?”
Werner pauses a moment. He takes a step away from us and looks around.
“That good, huh?” I joke.
Werner nods us over, and we follow. We begin walking away from the hospital but still keep our eyes on it just in case we are needed.
“We have all but one of the officials’ quarters secured in Minje,” Werner tells us. “All of their bunkers too.”
“What?” Eric half shouts. “How come we haven’t heard anything about this?”
Werner whispers back to us, “Young launched a Taai attack last night, along with a lot of help from the citizens inside of Minje.”
“How soon do you think—”
My question is interrupted by the sound of jets soaring over us. Their power and thundering vibrations send a horrible throbbing sensation back into my wound, as well as a hard feeling of sharp pressure in my back.
One jet, two jets, three jets all fly over our heads. The three of us can’t help but lower into a slightly crouched position as they soar. Once they get far enough away, I turn back to Werner. “How soon do you think we will
have the final officials’ quarters?”
“They were sending in a team as they sent me back here.”
A large smile of relief grows on my face as the idea of being able to see Gramps comes to mind. I quickly force it out and try to prevent myself from deceit.
Gramps is dead.
Gramps is dead.
If I convince myself of this, I will either be prepared for the news, or I will be pleasantly surprised.
Gramps is dead.
Eric, Werner, and I continue walking away from the hospital and are passed by a few of the first aid vans rushing over to the doors. Though seeing people needing urgent care is a sad sight to see, Eric and I have been seeing this all day. The hospital we were assigned to watch is the largest and most efficient hospital in Meer, meaning the ones who need the most care come here.
Eric and I can’t help them any more than the mud can, so we continue to walk with Werner.
“I imagine that those jets were actually sent to take out some of Verwend’s defenses,” Werner tells us. “Which means we may already have Minje secured.”
The three of us walk in silence for a moment as we realize this war is coming to an end. The silence we enjoy is short-lived and interrupted by another two jets.
The first one soars over us as quickly as the first three, but just as the second one follows, a long string of gunfire interrupts. I look to the source of the shots to find that a defense tower less than a mile from us is responsible.
“The tower’s been hijacked!” Werner lifts his cuff to his face and begins barking codes into it. “Meer’s defense tower 10 east has been hijacked. Repeat …”
The shots fired by the tower are drowned out as one of the wings blows off the jet. The three of us watch the aircraft as it spins out of control and plunges in our direction. We sprint away as another jet soars overhead, and the fiery vessel plummets, crashing into the hospital behind us.
Mavis
As I chop and Sam peels another one of Bergland’s “superfoods,” everyone continues to watch all the news coverage. All day long, on every possible screen, we watch as a reporter tells us about the war.
