Redeemer (22 page)

I don't know where I stand with Fischer and Keegan, and until I do know it, I can't give either of them any promises. I cannot let him hold my hand. I cannot hold his hand back.

Slowly, gently, I pull my hand from his. His eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. He's so skilled at hiding his true feelings and keeping his cool composure.

I shake my head, almost wishing he hadn't come to find me at all. “I don't know what to do.” It's all I can manage without getting choked up.

He pulls back, his face pensive, but he nods his understanding.

Of course, he understands. He would never blame me for feeling confused.

“I'll be here when you make that decision.” His words are as gentle as the breeze. He gives me one last smile before rising and returning to the stairs.

Keegan or Fischer? It's a question that's been interwoven with this entire nightmare.

Leaning over the edge of the roof, I breathe deeply of the crisp fall air. The broken buildings stretch out before me, and a bustling city lies on the other side of a rickety fence line. This city, the one I'm in now, used to bustle too. But it has a past that's been forgotten.

I am insignificant. I might die any day now, and then what? Will I be forgotten? I don't want to be. Maybe that's one of the reasons I'm doing all of this. To leave a legacy.

A bird glides on the wind above me, and I watch it as it soars. It reminds me of the day I spent with Fischer at the levee. He said he wanted to be free like the birds. That kind of freedom is now within reach, but is it at too high a cost?

 

 

 

 

30

 

Keegan steps slowly along the halls of the first floor as I make my way down from the roof.

“You're walking!” I rush toward him. “How do you feel?”

He smiles. It would be natural for him to shrug here, but moving his shoulder would definitely put him in too much pain. “I feel as good as you'd expect. But this feels good.” He reaches a bench and lowers himself onto it.

I sit beside him, not too close but not too far. I don't want to bump him and cause him any more pain, but I don't want to be too far away.

“So what's going on today?” He fiddles with the end of his shirt. “Any news?”

I don't want to talk about the arguments from earlier, but we've been expecting an attack for days now. There is no way Frost Moon doesn't know where we are—so many people have flocked to us that we now take up six floors. I counted on my way down, and now I'm afraid the building won't hold up.

Tension fills the air as everyone waits—waits to fight, waits to win, waits to die—but every day without an attack brings another day of healing for Keegan. He's healing slowly. Fischer says he lost too much blood, and that's why his recovery is taking so long.

Keegan is practically growling in his frustration. Seeing him walk today is good news. He's pushing himself, but hopefully not too hard.

“A scout says he saw a large group moving this way several miles to the west. He couldn't tell if they were guards or military, or even if they were our own countrymen. Time will tell.”

Keegan nods. It isn't the first time the scouts have brought back reports of large groups on the move. Sometimes they end up here, wanting to join us. Other times they move on to who knows where. One thing we all wonder about, and no one has answers to, is whether or not the mother country has attacked. No one has had word, no matter which city they come from. The biggest clue we have is that those from the Lesser Cities claim citizens continue to disappear. Frost Moon continues to build his army—or resupply it.

Another clue is the dome. Daily we get reports of more loads of Greaters being brought in. No one even hides the fact that the Greaters have technology the Middles and Lessers never dreamed existed, because the Greaters arrive in their flying transporters by the day.

“I want to fight, when the time comes.”

I nod, understanding his words. He's not a stand-back-and-watch kind of guy. “You're getting stronger every day.”

“It's not fast enough.”

I offer a smile, and he smiles back. His look makes my stomach flip and questions fill my mind. Questions like
what about Lilith
?

Keegan's girl.

Keegan told Fischer he planned to fight for me, but my questions about Lilith remain. It is obvious they are friends—good friends. Maybe he shared God's message with her. Maybe they bonded.

My stomach doesn't flip now; it rolls. Asking him about her would be so easy, but something holds me back. He's watching me now, so I blurt out a different question. “Do you worry about your family?”

He turns away, looking out the large window at the front of the building. My gaze follows his, to the cannons as soldiers set up around the streets. Guard Rok and his men are ready for an attack, should it come. But I've seen the flying shooters. If they come, we don't have a chance.

“I worry about my mom. She's alone in Middle City 3. I haven't heard from her in weeks. If war breaks out, I don't know what she'll do.”

“My dad will take care of her.” It's an empty promise, because we both saw what shape he was in, but his smile shows me he appreciates the gesture. “Is your mom the only person you worry about?”

He turns back to me, his eyes questioning. “I worry about you, if that's what you mean. You're good at sneaking around and making plans, but how are you with a gun?”

I laugh at the thought. Me? Shoot someone?

No. I could never. But he's right, I am good at sneaking. If worst comes to worst, maybe I can sneak away.

“What about people in Middle City 1? Did you make any friends there?” It's the closest I can come without directly asking about Lilith.

He sighs and shakes his head. “This city offers the most protection. It's why they're bringing the Greaters in the first place.”

He makes a good point, except it doesn't answer my question about Lilith.

I open my mouth, determined to just blurt it out, but someone runs toward the building. His movements are panicked, and the closer he gets the more I recognize him.

It's Tye!

I bolt from the bench and hurry to meet him as he bursts through the door. “Tye? You're alive! We thought you were dead!”

He stops and wheezes for air. “Something big is happening,” he says between gulps. “They're taking people. They're taking Middles.”

My heart skips a beat. Or two. Then it feels like a stampede in my chest.

“What are you talking about?” Keegan reaches us, his movement slow but sure.

Tye gasps a few more breaths then straightens. “A flyer came in today. It dropped off a load of Greaters at the dome, but it didn't leave like it usually does. Guards rounded up a load of Middles and took them away.”

Sharp chill bumps prick my arms and run down my back. “The war has to have started then.”

Keegan nods. “They're running out of Lessers to take.”

“No wonder they haven't come after us,” I turn to face Tye head on. “Go tell Guard Rok. He's set up headquarters down the hall.”

Tye nods and hurries away, leaving Keegan and me to take in what he said.

I go to the large windows along the front wall and stare out at the streets. “Where do you think they're fighting?”

Keegan takes a moment to reach me, and he grunts the whole way over. “Who knows?”

Something nags at the back of my mind, something I don't want to voice. If I were with Fischer, I wouldn't voice it, but Keegan is different. He believes differently. “Should we be joining the fight?”

He swallows hard and shakes his head. “I don't know.”

I wrap my arms around my chest and take a shaky breath. “This is our country, and fighting the mother country seems right. We'll never have complete freedom if we're under their rule.”

His eyes are a mix of sadness and frustration, but he doesn't answer.

Word spreads quickly throughout the skyscraper, and many people have the same thought I do. We should be joining the fight.

Word spreads outside of the skyscraper too, and by the end of the day our numbers have multiplied.

“What if the guards come here?” someone asks. “What if they try to take us?”

Guard Rok shakes his head, speaking loudly so everyone on the ground floor can hear. Not everyone can see him—everyone can't fit on one floor—but people fill the stairwell and line the street front with the doors open. “They know we're here. They have to know. They also know we are armed. We won't go quietly, and right now they're relying on the people's blind obedience. They know they won't find that here.”

A slight calm spreads over the people, but I know the truth. They can come at any moment and obliterate us. Let the others inside the city know they won't tolerate rebels. We are all expected to fight for our country.

And with each passing moment, I'm more and more convinced fighting is what we should be doing.

I'm not brave enough to say the words out loud. Fischer would disagree with me—we're here to spread Christ's message, not go to war. Keegan wouldn't want me leaving the group without him. Even then, though, I have a feeling he wouldn't want me to fight.

Guard Rok, Les, and their people wouldn't understand my reasoning. There isn't a patriotic bone in their bodies. They want to see Frost Moon fall, and they don't care if the entire country has to fall for that to happen. I never have figured out why they hate him so badly.

When darkness falls and it's time to sleep for the few, short hours between daylight, I seek out Isabel. We haven't seen each other much this last week, but she's like my own personal source of wisdom.

“Isabel, are you glad you came with me?”

Her eyebrows rise and she stares at me. “I would have been less glad if I'd let you go alone.”

“But you wish you could have stayed? You don't want to be a part of this fight?”

She looks away now, but not before I see the pain in her eyes. “I didn't want to leave, it's true. I paid a heavy price for my disobedience. My penance is done, and I was reserved to living out my life in peace.”

Her words are spoken with such passion, I'm sure she's leaving something out. The price she paid? It couldn't be that she was demoted. A thought occurs to me, and I gasp. “You were taken from your family.”

She looks back to me, and tears glisten in her eyes. “I have a son. He was only a baby, just three years old. They took him and gave him to a Middle family to be raised. He's a guard now.”

“How do you know?”

She lifts her chin. I can't tell if it's in defiance or pride. “I saw him in Middle City 1, when we were making our way to the dome. My boy had a scar on his face. A large one. The guard had the same scar.” She smiles sadly and sighs. “Anyway, after I met you, my heart changed. It's not that I didn't want to be a part of the fight anymore. It was more like I didn't know how. You've shown me the way.” She smiles and puts her hand on my shoulder.

Warmth surges through me and I wrap her in a hug. “I'm sorry you had to go through that. Thank you for telling me, Isabel.”

She laughs and hugs me back. “You're welcome, but you didn't come up here to listen to my story. What's bothering you?”

She knows me so well. “I feel like I should be fighting the mother country. I feel like we should be helping to win our country's freedom before we worry about fighting the Greaters.”

Isabel sucks in a sharp breath. “Now, that is a tough predicament. What are you going to do?”

I shake my head. “That's just it. I don't know.”

She gives me a small smile and puts her hands over mine. “Don't worry about it. If and when the time is right, you'll know.”

That makes sense to me. Wait on God. He'll open the doors. It's something I've heard Fischer say lots of times. So, for now, it's what I'll do.

It's two days later when another runner approaches. This one is different. I've never seen him before, and I don't see him from the first floor but from the window of the fourth floor as Fischer leads one of his church services.

I slip out the door without causing a commotion, and hurry down to meet him.

The boy arrives with a message.
The Free are coming. Don't shoot.

The air leaves my lungs in a whoosh as tears choke me. The Free. They're alive, and they've heard of us, and they're coming.

Will Miriam be with them? Guard Nev?

I can't stop the wetness on my cheeks at the possibility of him being alive.

The Free are coming. “When will they be here?”

Others have gathered around, and before the runner can answer, he's pelted with questions. “Who are the Free?”

A commotion comes from outside, like the sound of marching. A moment later we see the mass of bodies turning a corner and coming toward the building. Another line follows them, and another, until waves of people approach. Their numbers practically double ours, and there is no way all those people will fit inside this building.

Pushing past anyone in my way, I hurry onto the streets to meet them. Guard Rok and Les rush after me, giving their people the signal to be on guard but not fire.

The lines stop, almost like they're being directed, but glancing through the crowd, I can't find anyone who seems to be in charge.

Finally, someone pushes through from the back.

“Are you the rebellion?” the woman asks.

The words are simple. To the point.

But I choke up.

Guard Rok steps around me. “That's right. And who is asking?”

The woman raises her chin. “We are the Free. We bring news, both good and bad.”

“Guard Nev?” I ask, finding my voice at last. “And Miriam. Are they with you? Are they alive?”

The woman considers me long and hard. “Now I am the one who must ask who's asking.”