Refugee Road (Freedom Fighters Series Book 1)

by Landis, Nikki

  “Lydia, can you hear me? I wanted to tell you…I’m sorry.”

  “It’s…ok…Lizzie,” she whispered, hardly loud enough for me to hear.

  “No, Lydia, listen. I’m sorry, for always causing so much trouble. I’m sorry I always left you…to do everything alone,” I told her, my voice breaking.

  “Lizzie…it’s…fine.”

  I didn’t like the way she sounded. The pain was gone from her voice, leaving it sounding hollow…flat and tired. Weak. Vulnerable. I started to panic again. No death, please not tonight.

  “Lydia? Lydia, are you awake?” I called hysterically.

  “Yes…doesn’t…hurt…now,” she answered slowly.

  “Forgive me Lydia,” I begged through my tears, “please.”

  “Nothing…to…forgive,” she whispered.

  I looked at her, so pale and fragile. “Lydia…I love you.”

  She was not afraid. In the middle of all of this death and destruction, she was at peace.

  “Love…you Lizzie. Always.”

  “Always big sister,” I told her, choking and blubbering with my tears.

  She held on for most of the night, passing away in the early morning hours of a crimson and hazy dawn. Death had claimed her. Death had won. A thief in the night. Traitor. Enemy. Hatred welled up inside me. What right did death have to claim her?

  I leaned over her broken body and started sobbing uncontrollably. I’ll never forget the horror or the finality of her death. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes as I watched her soul leave her body…empty…cold and alone. I’ll never forget the way her hand slipped out of mine as the last of her strength ebbed from her ravaged body.

  I cried over her lifeless form for hours, refusing to believe she was really gone. Panicking. Gasping. I started screaming, unable to stop myself. The screaming reverberated through my brain, in every corner, the agony of loss consuming me, and gutting me with its cruel finality. Shock rooted me to the spot. And still I screamed, the sound anchoring my hate in this horrid place.

  My sister was gone. So was my mother. Nothing could ever bring them back. They were lost to me. Forever. Nothing could change it. But there was one certainty I could cling to. War. Through the crimson haze of blood and hatred I made a vow. Vengeance. I wanted blood. I wanted revenge. I would inflict terrible pain and suffering upon those that did this. They would pay. I would spend my dying breath ensuring their fate.

  I would later learn that this solitary incident ignited a flame of hatred that fueled the refugee movement. In that moment, I succumbed to the agony and torment, grief stricken for my mother and sister. The fight momentarily zapped from my body, I relented, releasing the pent up emotion, oozing, pouring out of me and heaping upon the tumultuous earth. Shaking, I clutched my sister’s body close to mine.

  In the distance, I heard a rumble and the earth shook beneath me. Nothing would ever be the same again. Everything had changed. My cries of horrified anguish mingling with my shrill screams still echo in my brain today. They never diminish. They constantly linger. Ever present. Raw. A daily reminder that never leaves me. Always alive in my mind like an electric shock, coming to the surface of my skin, burning me like hot coals that make my fingers twitch. Reaching forward…grasping…I’m alone. And on nights like this, the memory still serves to fuel my fire, the fuel for revenge. I never let go. I never waiver. I never forget.

  It’s at this point in my dream that I always awaken, the pain so vivid, so vibrantly real that I realize it’s my own screaming jolting me back into awareness, where trembling and covered in sweat, I try not to take my own life…

  K.D. That’s the day I died. At least partially. Or I was reborn. It depended on your point of view. The answer didn’t matter to me. It’s the day everything changed. The day I decided I would do anything, the day I decided nothing was greater than the taste of vengeance. The taste of hatred. The taste of blood. Only one thing mattered now. One thing ruled me. One thing guided me. Revenge.

  Chapter Four

  It took almost a week to get well enough to leave Darren’s room. He slept on a cot every night insisting I stay in his bed until I was well. I succumbed to his insistence but I didn’t like it. It made me feel like I owed him now. Like I was indebted to him.

  Although he was kind to me, there was a side of Darren that almost frightened me. A calculating self-interest that led his decisions. He had leverage on me now. I was certain he would use it at a time and place of his choosing, and I was pretty sure I was not going to like it one bit.

  I needed to get back to work. Idleness didn’t suit me and I had way too much time to think in Darren’s room. My thoughts went to dark places when that happened. Places and dreams I would rather forget. People. My past. My family. I preferred to stay busy. Busy was good.

  On the last night in his room, I decided to talk to him.

  “Darren, I’m going back to my bunk tomorrow. I can’t stay here now that I am recovered. It’s not fair to keep you from your bed,” I told him honestly.

  “I’m all right. Please stay as long as you need. I don’t mind, really I don’t.”

  “I know Darren, people will talk…”

  “Let them. It’s our business, not theirs. You don’t have to worry about me saying anything Lizzie,” he meant it but it didn’t change anything.

  “I know that. I trust you. I just think it is time. I need to resume my duties. And…I want to be at the next raid,” I watched his reaction from the corner of my eye.

  “I see,” his voice was low. Flat.

  “Darren…I’m fine.”

  The look on his face told me he doubted that.

  “As you wish. Let me know if there is anything you need.”

  I sighed. I hoped he would keep his word. There was something else I wanted to say.

  “Darren…” I wanted to thank him but I felt a little awkward.

  He got up and sat next to me on the bed. How did I thank him without giving him the wrong idea?

  “What is it Lizzie?” He asked me softly.

  “I want you to know how much I appreciate…how thoughtful it was of you to take care of me. Thank you.”

  He leaned close to me. “It was my pleasure. You’re welcome.”

  I stared into his eyes, a vivid deep blue, and remembered Alec. Only steel gray eyes should stare at me that way. I looked away suddenly, feeling unsure.

  “Lizzie, look at me…” He commanded gently.

  I sighed, turning his direction when his lips suddenly met mine. Surprise kept me from moving. I thought he would pull back but instead he leaned in and kissed me deeper. Too late. Darren was already cashing in and I felt somewhat trapped by the overture. I leaned back in surprise. He smiled, a small blush lighting his cheeks.

  “You know me by now Lizzie. I’m not a charity house. I don’t give things away freely. That goes for my heart too. We have known each other and been fighting side by side for three years now. If you haven’t discerned my feelings for you before now…you aren’t as observant as I give you credit for,” he told me, searching.

  He was right. I had noticed. The signals were so light that I convinced myself they weren’t there to begin with. It was a lie. A lie I had wanted to believe.

  “I guess I did notice but…I wasn’t certain. I mean…we are at war Darren.”

  He nodded. “I know. That’s what I am saying Lizzie. Life is too short. We could both die any day. We don’t know how much time we have left. Shouldn’t we make the most of it together?”

  “What are you saying?” I asked, surprised again.

  Darren leaned forward again, looking into my eyes. He took my hands in his and cleared his throat.

  “Lizzie…I love you,” he told me, softly and sincerely.

  I opened my mouth, shocked. Darren loved me? When did that happen?

  “I…when? You love me?” I sounded like an idiot.

  “Why are you surprised? You are beautiful and smart and an excellent fighter. I’ve loved you
a long time now. Why does it matter? Are you upset by this?” He asked, doubt on his face for the first time.

  I shook my head. I wasn’t upset. I cared for Darren. I just never entertained the idea of loving anyone. Not during war. Not during my bloodlust for vengeance. Now within a week, Alec shows back up in my life and Darren declares that he loves me.

  Everything was suddenly complicated where it had been so simple before. I only had to survive and think of myself. One moment at a time. Day by day. I only had to focus on war and my promise. Just revenge. Destroying my enemy. It wasn’t going to be that easy now.

  “Darren, I’m not upset. I care deeply for you too. I’m just surprised. I prepared myself for war…vengeance…and nothing else. This is a lot for me to handle at the moment.”

  He grinned widely at me. “You love me too. I know you do but I won’t make you say it until you are ready. I’ll give you time, whatever you need. But I want you to stay, with me, here. I want to be with you Lizzie.”

  He leaned in to kiss me again but I shook my head. I needed time. He pulled me close, holding me tightly against his chest, his embrace stronger than needed but not unpleasant. I went to bed an hour later, promising him I would consider his request and let him know when I made my decision. Lost in thought, it took a long time to fall asleep that night. I finally managed to doze off, snuggled beneath the covers, with Darren’s eyes penetrating my back.

  I awakened once in the middle of the night. Eerie quiet had descended inside the camp. Darren was standing by the bed. I opened my mouth to ask him what was going on when he quickly slid in next to me, put his arms around me, and covered my mouth with his hand. Frightened, I dare not move.

  “Shhh,” he whispered so quiet I barely heard him.

  I nodded and he released his hand from my mouth but kept me close against him. I could feel his heart beating quickly as I pressed against his chest, the wild thumping seeming to echo in his chest and transfer to mine. His forehead was creased with concern, as we listened in the dark, waiting for the sound of planes. It must have been a long time because I fell back to sleep and awakened to the sound of deep breathing.

  Darren was asleep next to me, one arm thrown around my waist, hugging me close. I lay there quietly, thinking of his proposal. Part of me considered it for a few brief seconds and then I thought of Alec. I didn’t really want to be alone. The idea of love was enticing, to spend my last days happy with my lover, but that was not my path. I could feel it. I knew deep inside that it wasn’t meant to be.

  My mission was revenge, clearly premeditated, clearly violent. Practically a suicide mission. The chances of survival were slim but maybe, just maybe, I could take a few of the bastards with me when I died. Vengeance meant more to me than any other emotion. It dominated my thoughts. Took refuge in my heart. I needed it. Craved it. Lived for it.

  Eventually, I would have to tell Darren. For now, in this moment, it didn’t matter. I would let him down easy in time. I could never be with him. Or marry him. I wasn’t going to marry anyone. It wasn’t in the plan for me, cruelly ripped out of my destiny by the militia whose bombs had taken the last of my humanity, the last part of me that truly cared and loved.

  That girl from my past was gone. The girl that danced all night with Alec in the moonlight. The girl who enjoyed her first kiss. Her first dance. She didn’t exist anymore with her high ideals and girly innocence.

  As I lay there, I knew I would have to tell Alec the same thing. I had made a mistake letting him, both of them, kiss me. Neither of them had a claim on me. And neither of them could compete with the vengeance that consumed my heart with a raging inferno, burning high enough to reach the heavens. My feelings, whatever they were, for either man were secondary. Love was the last thing I wanted. Or needed. It was the last thing I would pursue.

  Darren knew the real me now but it wasn’t enough. Not enough to change my mind or alter the course I was headed on. It wasn’t enough to erase the pain. The anger. The hate. He would never be able to fill the gaping hole that night left behind, never be able to repair the damage. He certainly claimed that he could. He had been trying for a long time. But he couldn’t. And that was that.

  There was an ugliness inside me now. Since that day it had been growing and festering. I was only dreaming if I thought Alec could be the one to repair it. If either of them could heal me, could control the lust for blood and revenge, it was Alec. Out of the two, I had no doubt who the victor would be. If any section of my heart still remained intact then it certainly belonged to Alec. But he was in love with a vision, a specter of my past. Not me.

  Darren would hate me if I ever told him that. If I admitted that my love had already been given long ago, to a man who had claimed me one night many years before Darren and I ever met. I must not elude to it. He would react impulsively and I had no room for his drama, no matter what it would entail. I had to lock my heart away from them both. My mind resolute, my heart closed off from further pain and agony, my thoughts drifted again.

  Darren and his group are the ones that found me that morning in the early dawn. The sounds of my crying and screaming had brought them running. He found me soaked in so much blood they didn’t think I was going to survive. I was holding Lydia, her organs spilling out of her body and onto my lap without my notice. I had been moaning and rocking her against me, as if I could bring her back. Half paranoid and on the verge of self-destruction, I must have looked like some wild savage in the early light of day.

  I didn’t notice or hear they were speaking to me for a long time. I remember Darren whispering to me in hushed and sweet tones, gently prying my fingers from Lydia’s broken body. Calmly he rubbed my back until my crying and moaning quieted down. I never forgot he did that for me. I never forgot he was there. And he wasn’t the only one. Mal was there too.

  The horror of that night hadn’t ended there either. I insisted we bury my sister before I would leave. Then once I had cried over her again, we came across my best friend Angela’s body and I had to bury her too. I never found my mother. There was nothing left to find. I’m pretty sure Lydia saw her blow up next to her. That’s what she was trying to tell me that night, when she said she saw her leave. The horror of that was still too much to contemplate.

  I spent the next three weeks in a makeshift hospital, close to my neighborhood where the injured were being healed. It was a hellish time, filled with agony and my tortured thoughts, and surrounded by death and carnage. I was all alone, except for Darren. I don’t know why he stuck around. I expected him to leave any minute, but he stayed until I was healed enough to leave. It was then that he offered me a place in his refugees. I eagerly accepted, thirsty already for the blood of those who had killed my family.

  The last thing I did before leaving with him was go back home. I wanted to see my house and neighborhood one last time. I needed the closure. It was also vital that I keep the memory and pain vivid and intimate, a constant reminder so I would never forget, never lose my nerve or my resolve. I wanted the memory close and poignant. The pain anchored me. It kept me going. Gave me purpose and motivation.

  I visited Lydia and Angela’s graves. I walked through my destroyed and mangled home and managed to grab a few personal items including my father’s old pocket watch before he died and a photo of our family that actually didn’t get obliterated. The last thing I found was my mother’s wedding ring. I couldn’t believe my luck when the jewelry box was intact. She had stopped wearing it because it brought so many painful memories to her but it meant the world to me. A little piece of them lived on.

  I kept these meager possessions on my body at all times. I never wanted to have to go back and find them, chancing they could get lost or destroyed. They were too precious, too important. They were my link to humanity, a tiny string that kept me grounded as a human being, the only thing preventing me from becoming a monster.

  I never knew what happened to Alec or his family. If I had known where he lived, I might have tried to find him. The h
ospital was too full of injured people but I checked it anyway. He was never admitted. Once my family and Angela were gone, I was all alone. I had no one. He was the only person left I cared anything about. His loss made it even more painful. Whether he was dead or alive, his absence was a loss, because I truly thought I would never see him again.

  Darren stirred next to me, finally waking up. He seemed to realize I was there because his arm tightened around me instantly and he pulled me even closer to his chest. His warm breath tickled my ear.

  “Good morning Lizzie.”

  “Good morning Darren.” I told him softly.

  Neither of us moved for a long time. I think we both wanted to enjoy the closeness of that moment. It was nice, feeling something real, something without pain, something good. It relaxed me. I even fell back to sleep for a while.

  Eventually, he released me and we sat up. I was hungry and needed a shower. So did Darren. He never said a word to me but his eyes lingered on my face for several minutes in silence. It meant a great deal to him. I could see it in his eyes. I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek before I left, saying my goodbye in my head.

  I fell back into my normal routine with ease. I started working out again, lifting weights, and running. It was slow progress with my right knee but I persevered. I wanted to be in top physical condition. I needed my performance at its best. This next raid was going to mean something. I had to be ready to go, ready for anything.

  One morning I got up earlier than usual. My K.D. nightmare was back and I didn’t want to deal with it. No time for pain this morning. I got up and dressed quickly, the normal uniform of cargo pants, combat boots, tank top, t-shirt, and military jacket always at my disposal. I quickly braided my long brown hair, tying the rubber band at the end. It reached my waist. I picked up my gun and ammo, strapping everything on. I ran with all my possessions on my body, adjusting to the weight easily out of muscle memory.

  The pit, our nickname for the mess hall, was fairly empty this early. It was a good sign I would get decent chow and a hearty portion. Luck must be on my side. I smiled widely when I sat down to eat, my plate heaping with breakfast. Hot cereal, eggs, ham, and peaches this morning. It was a banquet. We must have hit the jackpot from somewhere recently. Peaches were rare. They were my favorite.