“Hana. My name is Hana.”
A smile breaks across the woman's face and she gives a single, obliging nod. “It's nice to meet you, Hana. And yes, Guard Nev and Miriam are with us, and they're happy to find you.”
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The woman, whose name is Arin, assures me Guard Nev and Miriam are in the crowd, but she leaves with Guard Rok and Les, leaving me to find them. Many of the Free carry packs on their backs. Hopefully, they brought their own food. There is no way we can feed all of them, otherwise. Maybe I shouldn't feel that way, but I do.
Fischer appears at my side. “Most of these buildings are usable.” I'm not sure when he came down, but he stands near me now, directing people and helping them find their way. “You'll have to split into groups, but we have enough room for everyone.”
The guilt seeps past the edges and moves into my stomach. Why can't I be more like Fischer? More willing to help?
I know the answer before the thought even forms. It's because I'm still angry. I don't want to help anyone else. I don't want to get close. Be betrayed. Be made a fool.
Maybe the Bible has words about anger.
Verses
is what Fischer had called them.
For the first time in a long time, I think of my Bible. The Bible Frost Moon took from me.
I was angry about that, too. Maybe it's not wrong to be angry, after all, as long as it is anger at the right things.
“Hana?”
Guard Nev's voice pulls me out of my daze, and I spin toward him. He's grown a beard, and his cheeks are sunken, but he's here, alive.
Tears sting my eyes and I can't help the giddy laugh bubbling out of my throat. “I can't believe you're here.”
He smiles, which is something I haven't seen very often. “I can't believe you made it out alive.”
I shake my head. “Me neither.”
Miriam steps through the crowd. Her face is just as serious as I remember it, and she doesn't gush at seeing me again. “Is there a place we can talk? We have much to tell you.”
Information is good. “I have a place.”
I lead them through the crowded streets and straight to the back stairwell of the skyscraper. “It's a long climb. I hope that's OK.”
Guard Nev nods, so I start up. It's only after we're up to the second floor and still going I realize it isn't only Guard Nev and Miriam. A third man follows. Except, I can't really call him a man. More like a boy.
Guard Nev catches me glancing at the stranger. “This is Stefin. We're keeping an eye on him.”
A red flag rises in my mind, but I don't voice the questions it brings. Not yet, anyway.
“How much further?” Stefin complains. His breaths come in short, shallow puffs, and sweat pools on his forehead.
“We're going to the roof.” I don't need to explain we've still got a few flights to climb.
“What kind of building is this?” he says. “Don't you people have vac chambers?”
I throw a confused glance his way. Us people? Vac chambers?
He isn't Greater. There's no wayâhis clothes are nothing like the Greaters.
The more I study him, the more I realize he looks nothing like the Free, either. In fact, his words are clipped. Pronounced oddly.
He is different.
Guard Nev picks up on my confusion. He catches my eye and gives a slight head shake.
I'll keep the questions in until later.
Cool air washes over us as we step onto the roof. The view from this high is startling. The streets are filled with more people than I have ever seen in my entire life, and a memory floats through my head. It's the kind of memory I cling to and yet hate all at the same time. It's a memory of when Mom was first diagnosed, of the first time I visited her in the hospital. I wondered what it would be like to live in the Early Days, when our cities were so full of people.
“Where did they all come from?” It comes out as a whisper.
Miriam steps to my side. “They've come from all overâcities, and non-cities. There are unregulated people living far and wide across our continent. They have heard of the growing rebellion for weeks, and they've slowly made their way to join you. It was only recently we heard of your camp. We hoped we'd find you here.”
All these people. They want to be free?
I know what Fischer wants for them. What God wants for them.
Suddenly I am tiny. As small as an ant. I could melt into the rain and never be noticed again, that is how insignificant I am in the face of so many people.
And yet God loves me. He loves every single soul lingering in the streets.
Frost Moon would keep that love from all of them. He would let them die and never know.
We are doing the right thing in fighting. I am surer now than ever.
“What did you have to tell me?” The boldness of my wordsâthe surety in themâsurprises me. After days and days of insecurity, I am finally sure of who I am. God has allowed me to be a part of this great revival of our nation. It doesn't matter if Frost Moon thinks he put me here. It doesn't matter if Mom and Dad misled my entire life to lead me to this moment.
Above all, God allowed me to be here, to help spread His message.
I am small, but in God I am great.
“We've come from the western cities,” Miriam says.
Her no nonsense tone sets me back to a few months ago, when I sat in her warehouse and allowed her to place a tracker in my arm. She is all about business and doesn't seem to have any emotion in her entire body.
“War rages there. Your Great Supreme sends thousands of soldiers a day, but whoever we're at war with fights fiercely for the cities.”
Our suspicions are confirmedâthe war has begun. “Lessers and Middles have been disappearing for weeks. They are the soldiers.”
Guard Nev rubs a hand over his face, his earlier happiness gone. “That's what we were afraid of.”
“Have you been in any of the fights?” They look healthy and in good spirits. It doesn't seem likely they've been in any battles.
“No.” The way he speaks this one word tells me a lot about the tension between him and Miriam. He is disgusted. Angry. Frustrated.
He feels the same as I do. He should be fighting for his home, not allowing it to be overtaken by a country he's never seen. And then it hits me. Miriam said
whoever we're at war with
. They don't know who we're fighting against.
“Who's winning?”
Miriam's chin lifts in the air. “We are.”
So she does count herself part of this country, whether she's free or not. Still, her words surprise me.
“Really?”
Stefin grunts, and my gaze turns toward him as Guard Nev scowls. Stefin quickly looks down.
“Does anyone know who we're fighting against?” I don't know how much to reveal, at least not with this Stefin boy sitting near us.
“We've heard rumors,” Guard Nev says. “Rumors that have come from your camp. They call it the mother country.”
I nod slowly, keeping my gaze on Stefin. “Frost Moon told me about it after he caught me. He claims they control us, and since I shut down their soldier-making prison, they would be coming after us.”
Miriam nods. “This is why they fight for the western cities. The cities have been providing part of their livelihood with food and clothing, but they've been rebelling for weeks.”
It's exactly what I'd figured out myself. “And you say we're winning?”
“That's right,” Miriam says.
Again my gaze trails to Stefin. “What does he have to do with it?”
Guard Nev practically growls. “He came for the fight but ran away from it. We caught him.”
“Which city did he come from?” His comment about the vac chamber puts him in Greater City, but he doesn't seem to fit there, either.
“No city.” Stefin's nostrils flare. “I am from Mother Afrika. And you may be winning the battle, but we will win the war.”
My eyes widen as I stare at the strange boy in front of me. Finally, I turn to Guard Nev. “He is from the mother country?”
“It is Mother Afrika!” Stefin sneers.
“He's called a deserter,” Guard Nev explains. “He ran from the fight. We've managed to get a few pieces of information from him, like the fact that Mother Afrika isn't as powerful as it was when it overtook us a hundred years ago. They've actually come to depend on our extra rations, and they fight now in order to sustain life. At least, those are the things he's said. We weren't sure we could trust him.”
For the first time, hope surges that we might win the fight against the mother country. They aren't as powerful as Frost Moon believed. If we can win the war against them, and the rebels win the battle against the Greaters, people everywhere will be allowed to hear about God.
I have to tell Fischer. I turn toward the stairs in a hurry, but Guard Nev stops me. “I have something I wanted to give you.”
For the first time, I notice the bag slung across his chest. He pulls a small bundle from the bag and hands it to me.
My heart stutters and my breath catches. I don't even know what's inside, but somehow I know it's going to be important. Slowly, cautiously, I unwrap the package.
It's nothing like the soft, leather Bible I saw in the Bailey's store all those months ago. It's not even like the sturdy Bible Fischer gave me while sitting in my kitchen in Middle City 3.
This Bible is hand written and held together with clips and bindings.
It is beautiful.
“How did you get this?” My words come out as a whisper.
Guard Nev smiles slightly, uncomfortable with happiness, as usual. “I found it while we trekked across the miles to get here. I had a feeling you would like it.”
I hug the papers to my chest. “I love it. Thank you.”
He smiles again and nods, and this time he doesn't stop me as I race down the stairs to find Fischer. By the third flight down I force myself to slow, and I set a pace for myself. Once in the crowded streets, I scan the area for Fischer. He stands with a group of the Free, listening to whatever story they have to tell.
Once there's a pause in their conversation, I step forward. “I have something I need to show you.”
He follows me without question, up the stairs and into the large chapel he's arranged for daily services. I pull the papers from against my chest and hold them out to him.
It takes a moment for him to realize what he's staring at, but then his eyes widen and I can't keep the grin from my face.
“Where did you get this?”
I laugh. “Guard Nev brought it.”
He stares at me for a moment before I realize he doesn't exactly know Guard Nev. “He's the one who helped me in the prison, and he was my guard in Greater City.”
Fischer nods his understanding and goes back to studying the Bible. “I never thought I'd see one of these again.”
“Me neither. I thought we could leave it in the chapel for anyone else who wants to learn more. That is, if you think it'd be safe.”
His eyes widen even more. “Are you sure?”
Am I? Losing another Bible, and it being my own fault this time, would tear me apart. Finally, I nod. “I'm sure. You didn't hesitate to share yours with me.”
He laughs. “Actually there was a lot of hesitation. I didn't know you as well as I wanted to, but I took a chance.” He pauses and swallows hard. “I'm glad I did.”
He took a chance on me. Because he wanted to get to know me. And he's glad.
I'm suddenly aware of how close we're standing. How alone we are.
Fischer notices it, too, and he steps away.
Disappointment is swift, but it's quickly replaced by confusion.
He clears his throat. “I was nervous, but in the end I wanted to help you. I sure missed the Bible when I gave it up, but it was only a week later and I was taken away. The Greaters would have gotten it anyway.”
I kept it from them for only a few more weeks, and they got it in the end.
“Well, I'd like to help others the way you helped me. Where will it be most safe?”
He glances around the room slowly, finally pointing toward a small table at the other side of the room. “How about there, by our makeshift altar?”
It's as good a place as any. I move toward it and find the shelf, but then I pause. “Actually, I think I'd like to read it for a while.”
Fischer grins. “That's exactly what I wanted to do. Come get me when you're done?”
I smile again and nod. “I promise.”
He leaves me alone to read over the verses that had become my favorite. My heart is as light as a snowflake. I am no longer lost. I have been found.
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I read several chapters before I realize the sky is growing dim. Making my way to the first floor, I try to find Keegan. I can only assume he'll be around, since he's not been walking long enough to get upstairs. A crush of people meets me at the bottom of the stairs, but none of them are him.
I wander out of the building and into the streets. People brush against me at every turn, and I mumble a dozen “excuse me's” before I find him. He's sitting on a bench surrounded by a few of the Free. They're telling him something, and whatever it is, he's completely into their story.
His skin is paler than it used to be. His shoulders are less broad, and one is still bandaged.
But he's as vibrant as ever. As animated and passionate.
I can only imagine in my worst nightmare what I would feel if he'd died a week ago. Coldness wraps around me and I shiver.
He didn't die, and I am so grateful for that. He's the only link to my past, and the thought of letting him go pains me.
At some point he notices me watching him, and he smiles. The others with him notice me, too, and they quickly move away. I slide onto the bench beside him. “Feeling OK?”