Without announcing herself, Deja walked into the tent. If Faith and Trake were having sex, Deja would have probably joined in if she was in the mood. However, Trake wasn’t home, as he’d decided to visit each of the fighters and help them get mentally prepared for the next day’s action.
“Hey.” Deja closed the tent flap carefully behind her.
Faith waited expectantly, sensing Deja’s need to talk and pleased she was the one Deja came to.
Deja sat on the cot next to her.
“Hey,” Faith responded with a smile.
Deja continued to stare without speaking.
Faith cocked her head to one side. “What? You’re acting weird.” She wanted to take Deja in her arms, but Deja seemed as if she really needed to get some words out.
“Thank you,” Deja said simply.
“For what?” Faith asked hesitantly.
“For setting me free.”
Faith gave a nervous laugh. “Come on, Deja. You’re not serious.”
“I am being serious.” Deja leaned forward so her lips touched Faith’s.
Faith opened her mouth to receive the kiss, feeling lightheaded at the connection, more so than ever before. She didn’t know what was happening, but she liked it. She surrendered to the kiss, until a thought tugged at her brain.
She placed her palm on Deja’s shoulder and gently pushed her away. “Wait, I need to know what you mean.” She searched Deja’s face for clues.
Deja looked surprised then she smiled. “It’s just that I woke up this morning…you know, I’ve done this preparation for action many times before. You’re different in the days before an operation because anything can happen.” She looked at her hands in her lap. “You think about what you need to do; nothing else matters. Except this time…” She raised her head to meet Faith’s eyes. “Except this time, this time I feel good about what’s coming up.”
“I’m so glad.” Faith sent Deja a big grin, but Deja didn’t return it.
“The only thing I don’t like is that you’re going. I would die if anything happened to you.”
Faith shook her head. “I would die if anything happened to you,” she replied passionately, wanting to pull Deja into her arms and not let go.
Deja reached out, cupping Faith’s cheek in her palm. “No, dear heart, please don’t…I’ve done a lot of bad things, hurt a lot of people. That’s why I came to thank you for bringing me here.” She made a sweeping motion with her hand. “To this.”
Deja took both of Faith’s hands between hers and squeezed tightly as she held Faith’s gaze. “I didn’t realize how much it’d changed me until I woke up this morning truly happy. Thank you, Faith.”
She wrapped her arms around Deja’s neck and pulled her into a heated kiss.
The tent flap opened and Trake walked in. “Hey, do I get some of that?”
Faith broke the kiss and addressed him, “Get undressed.” She looked back at Deja, giving her a wicked grin.
Faith didn’t know what would happen tomorrow. All she knew was she had two people left in the world she truly loved. It was hard for her to express her feelings other than to use her talents to please. She wanted to bring pleasure to them both. They deserved it and so much more.
Faith was ready to play.
* * * *
Opening the door to dorm W8, Faith prepared to confront the prisoners…and Carrie, if the woman was still here. It had only been three months since Faith had left the prison camp, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. During that time, she had been combat-trained and had strengthened her resolve to fight the tyranny of the New Washington regime until she died. Rather than being scared of death, she felt she was now really living.
When faced with deciding what the first operation for the group would be, Faith had known she didn’t want to simply go out and start killing people. Their first military action had to be symbolic.
The only way they would end the New Washington dictatorship was to have it collapse from within. Experience at the Resistance camp showed her people were simply afraid to fight back; however, as soon as they saw people starting to act, many would join in. Releasing the prisoners in her former prison camp was the symbolic act the newly revived Resistance needed.
Faith looked around the noisy room while holding her pulsar assault rifle. As people noticed her, the room grew quiet. Faith’s eyes searched the room for Carrie’s bunk. She hadn’t come here specifically for that woman, but she hoped to see her. If not, she hoped the woman had been released, not killed.
Faith’s gaze finally fell on Carrie, but the woman was in bed, unmoving.
Faith quickly made her way over while calling out, “This is a prison break people! Run for the exits and head to the Resistance camp in the Frederick Hills! Resistance Army soldiers will find you and guide you the rest of the way!”
The prisoners simply stared at her, and she wasn’t surprised they didn’t know how to escape. She’d been in their position not too long ago.
Faith continued to make her way toward Carrie, who was bruised and beaten. However, the woman sat up at the sound of Faith’s voice. Relief washed over her, because it appeared the woman could move. Faith knew she wouldn’t have been able to carry Carrie out.
Faith looked around at the crowd of women, who weren’t moving, but merely staring at her. She didn’t need them all to escape to make her point, but she did need at least some of them to run for the hills.
She briefly considered Trake and the rest of the force hitting the other dorms. Were their charges also standing around unmoving?
Faith pointed the pulsar rifle at the ceiling and blasted a light fixture, causing it to fall to the floor with a shattering crash. Several women screamed at the loud disturbance.
“Goddamn it, people! Move now!” Faith yelled.
The women closest to the exit started toward the door, and Faith glanced at the women near her who were still not budging. She waved her gun at them. “Move it!”
Startled, they headed for the exit.
Faith looked down at Carrie as recognition crossed the woman’s face.
Carrie offered a smile, but stopped with a wince as her battered cheeks creased. “Hey, you came back.”
“Tired of stealing pillows?” Faith gave her a quick grin.
“Yeah, sorry about that…” Carrie sat up, holding her side in pain.
Faith motioned her to move faster. “Forget about it. Help me get these women out of here.”
Carrie got to her feet and used her influence on the mass of women to get them to evacuate.
After ensuring the women’s dorm was empty, Faith made her way to a utility building. Inside, she nodded to Deja, who held a very large pulsar assault rifle pointed at two guards who sat handcuffed on a bench. Faith recognized the guards as Pala and Lyna.
The goal had been to walk in and walk out. The Resistance would attack the camp and kill as few guards as possible, but Faith had another plan for these two.
Deja sent a meaningful glance to her watch. They had been at the camp for nearly twenty minutes. At thirty minutes, all teams were ordered to pull out.
“I don’t have much time,” Faith began. “We’re not going to kill you if you don’t resist. However, I’m giving you a chance to come with us.”
The two guards looked at each other with wide eyes.
“You’re serious?” Pala exclaimed.
Faith nodded. “You only have one minute to make up your mind.” She looked at Lyna, who she’d made a connection with during her first time in the camp. “You can live free with us, no Morality Courts. You can be yourself.” She hoped the woman got the message.
The political benefit of having even one guard join them would be very valuable; however, unlike Carrie, this move was personal.
Lyna stood. “I want to go.”
Pala pulled in her legs and released them with a kick to Lyna’s knees, knocking her into Deja and turning her so Deja’s back was momentarily to Pala.
Pala swung
her handcuffed wrists over Deja’s head, wrapping the chain around Deja’s neck, choking her. Pala pulled harder, drawing a muffled gasp out of Deja. The two women thrashed around wildly.
Faith pointed her pulsar rifle at Pala, looking for a clear shot. She briefly considered trying to physically pull Pala off Deja, but Deja was much stronger than Faith, and Deja apparently was no match for the guard.
Faith got off one shot as Pala quickly rolled away still holding Deja in a straggling grasp.
Lyna grabbed Pala in a headlock, choking her. “Let her go!” she yelled at Pala, as Deja’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and her body slumped.
Faith dropped her rifle and futilely grabbed for the chain, focused only on freeing her friend.
Defenseless against Lyna choking her, Pala still didn’t let up on the pressure around Deja’s neck.
Faith realized her mistake. She should have taken Pala out with the rifle. Now she reacted on instinct. Reaching behind Deja’s head for Pala’s face, Faith dug her fingers into Pala’s eyes as hard as she could. Revulsion washed over her as Pala’s eyeballs sank into their sockets. Anger at Pala overwhelmed Faith, allowing her to push the revulsion away and press her fingers in deeper.
As Pala’s hold on Deja went slack, Faith pulled the chain from her friend’s neck.
Deja fell limply into Faith’s arms, her head at an unnatural angle.
“No! No! Deja!” Faith shouted as she clutched her friend to her chest. “Stay with me! Please, don’t leave us!” she begged.
Koll threw open the shed door with his weapon raised, his eyes scanning the scene. Lyna raised her bound hands in surrender as Pala’s body lay in a heap at Lyna’s feet, and Faith huddled on the floor with Deja.
“Faith, we have to go!” he yelled.
Faith hugged Deja closer, rocking her, unable to fight the tears welling in her eyes. They rolled down her cheeks swiftly.
“I can carry her,” he offered in a softer tone, reaching for Deja.
Faith released her reluctantly. She knew the truth; Deja was dead. Faith had lost another member of her family, but she wasn’t giving up on the future of the Resistance.
She looked at Lyna. “Let’s go!” she choked out through the constriction in her throat.
Epilogue
Faith found it amazing this building had stood for all these years, through many wars, revolutions, and governments. Whoever occupied this building, this house actually, was always known as the leader of Washington, D.C. Now the Resistance occupied it, having thrown out its previous occupants.
Faith held her daughter as she walked into the Oval Office of the White House and observed as Trake planned strategy with the commanders of the army for obtaining peace. Perhaps the fighting would go on for her and Trake’s lifetime; however, for little Deja, sleeping quietly in Faith’s arms, there would be a better day.
Trake glanced up and sent her a smile.
Faith returned it and gently waved Deja’s tiny hand at him. Then she walked through the busy White House, full of officials and managers of the Resistance, toward the North Lawn. The Resistance had grown a lot in the three years since the raid on the prison camp where Deja had lost her life.
As Faith had instinctively known, the symbolism of freeing the political prisoners had ignited the immigrants of New Washington. They’d been less afraid to fight back.
The Resistance had always been there, organizing and training, and the cost of keeping peace against the constant civil protests had put a strain on the monarchy and weakened its support among the lower level Aristos. In a massive weeklong demonstration organized by the Resistance, the people had stormed the White House and physically removed the leaders.
Reaching a window overlooking the North Lawn, Faith glanced out at the thousands of people massed in Lafayette Park. They were lined up in front of temporary buildings with signs that hadn’t been seen since the days of the old United States:
Elections.
About the Authors
Suzanne Graham has always been an avid reader and diary writer. After inheriting boxes of romance books from her aunt, she decided to try putting her own stories on paper. Suzanne met her husband, a fellow American, as an exchange student at the University of Warwick in England. They are proud parents of three boys. In her spare time, you can usually find Suzanne on the living room couch reading romance.
Suzanne loves to talk to her readers and can be found at www.suzannegraham.blogspot.com.
Michael Graham writes romance novels in Los Angeles, California.
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