The Letting (31 page)

Finally, we arrive at camp. Thank goodness. At least being in familiar territory will offer me some stability. There is no way I can take any more.

As soon as the helicopter lands, I push my way out the door and stumble across the field. I can feel Farnsworth’s eyes on me, but I don’t care. I fall into my cabin, and find it has been overturned by the rebel invasion. My plaques and awards have been pulled from the wall and smashed on the ground. Devastatingly, my mother’s picture of the dandelion has been stolen from underneath my mattress. I feel so claustrophobic I can barely breathe. I tear at the dress I find so incredibly suffocating. I manage to pull off the decorative fan to expose plain fabric beneath, and tear off the bottom layers completely. I grab a towel and wipe my face as clean as I can. Hours have passed since the rebels descended on the Inferno. I wonder how many died. How many were children?

Thinking of children only makes me wonder about Lulu. Was she at the attack? My stomach aches knowing I am directly to blame. It will only be a matter of time until Gunnar and his troops make it to Farnsworth’s house, and then it will be outright war. Gunnar knows what and whom I am protecting. He knows these three girls are the last remaining O’s. There will be nothing I can do when he rallies his troops and heads back to our camp. We can only outrun him for so long.

I flop down face first on the bed and cry for what feels like an endless amount of time. I know people come to my door but I ignore them, and eventually they go away. I even need a break from my girls, because somewhere deep inside me, in the ugliest place in my soul, I resent them. I am incredibly angry I’ve had to protect them for so long, and in doing so, I’ve lost Phoenix. Besides, they are safe with Gretchen and Margaret. Frankly, they’re safer now with them than they are with me. When the tears stop, the thoughts start. I wonder about the children in the New World. I wonder about Phoenix, and what Gunnar is doing to him. I wonder what will become of us. I wonder why I was ever born. I am too tired and it is all too much to bear.

I pull myself to stand and slip out of my cabin, hopefully unnoticed. It doesn’t take long before I find my mushroom patch. I pick only two, not to be tempted to do something rash and foolish. I make my way back into my cabin and lay back on my cot. Without thinking, I chew the two mushrooms, dirt and all. I need something, anything, to take me away from my thoughts.

****

When I awaken, my throat is incredibly parched and the sun is shining brightly. I have no idea how long I’ve been out, but I’m guessing I lost at least one full day. I am still in the short red dress that is now sticking to me. I don’t care. I need answers and there is only one place to find them.

I march to Farnsworth’s cabin, but he isn’t there. I can tell from the position of the sun it must be near lunch time. I make my way to the mess hall, and find that it, too, was left looking like a war zone. I look around frantically, but there is no sign of Willy. My heart aches from all the loss it feels. I see Gretchen with the girls seated at a far table. She gives me a small wave. Margaret sits at the first table. She doesn’t look up when she addresses me. “There’s no cook,” she relays, softly. “Hardly any food. Take what you want.” I look at Margaret, wondering who this broken person is.

“I don’t want food. I want…” and I see Farnsworth, huddled over a bowl of oatmeal, one bodyguard at his side. “You,” I hiss, standing in front of him.

“Veronica.” Farnsworth sounds genuinely happy to see me. “How is our new Acting Principal Leader?” he asks with a smirk.

“Cut the crap, Farnsworth.” He reels from my words. “What is happening?”

“No good morning?” Farnsworth asks. “You’ve been asleep for nearly two days.”

“What is happening with the rebel attack on the Infer—” I stop myself. “On the New World,” I ask.

“It’s not good.” His eyes drop down to his oatmeal. He looks honestly upset. “Despite our plan, the rebels are gaining converts. I think they’re just people trying to stay alive.”

I nod. “Casualties?”

“Of course.” He looks up at me, steadily. “But if you’re asking how many or more directly, if he is one, I don’t have the answer.”

I nod, fighting the tears building in my eyes.

“But Veronica…” Farnsworth speaks gently, almost compassionately. “You’ll spare yourself a lot of heartache if you just accept the fact he’s probably dead. He was public enemy number two. There’s no way they’ll let him live.”

“Number two?”

“Only after you.” I gasp, surprised.

“But don’t worry,” Farnsworth assures me in his slimy voice, “as long as you stay with me you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not fine,” I declare, looking him squarely in the eyes. “And I’m certainly not with you.”

Farnsworth’s eyes widen and narrow. He looks like I’ve kicked him in the groin.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he remarks, and I turn to walk away. “Veronica?” I turn back to face him. “It wouldn’t matter anyway because I would never have permitted it…a relationship between you and Phoenix. What makes you think it would ever have happened?”

“It already did,” I whisper, walking away.

****

I know what I’ve done is brash and stupid but my guess is Farnsworth will never survive the rebel takeover so what does it matter. I storm into my cabin and try to get myself out of the dress, but the zipper’s stuck. I finally find a pair of scissors and manage to cut myself out. I know there is only one thing that will help right now. I dig up my swimsuit and stuff myself into it. Then I throw on a thin, black tank top cover and slip into my boots. Without mentioning it to a single soul, I clump down to the waterfront. I don’t care who knows. Besides, not one of them, not Margaret, Gretchen, or Farnsworth would ever head down willingly. Sure, there is the possibility of a stray rebel who’s stayed behind with the sole intent to kill me, but that’s just a risk I’m willing to take right now.

Once I hit the waterfront, I realize there is only one reason for me to be here. This place holds nothing for me but memories, memories of Phoenix. But this really isn’t about him. Or anyone else. It’s about me. I strip out of my clothing and swimsuit. I stand naked on the beach, staring at the water ahead of me. Slowly and purposefully, I step one foot after another until I am waist deep. I feel the cool water divide my body in two. Half of me submerged, half of me elevated. I realize that, of everything we have gone through, this is what I hate the most, this feeling of being “halfway.”

A sunny swims by and I see the sunlight reflect off his yellowish scales. It is such a perfect moment I know I am in the exact right place at the exact right time. I walk farther and farther into the lake, until my breasts are submerged. Suddenly, in the purity of the lake and this moment, I know exactly what it is I have to do. I have to make peace with myself.

I fold my arms across my chest and slowly tilt my head backward allowing my body to move with it. Soon I am submerged. Giving myself over to the lake, I allow myself to be cleansed. When I rise from the water, I will forgive myself for the sins I knowingly and unknowingly committed. Like Phoenix who rises from the ashes, I too will have my chance to be reborn. And once I am, there will be no turning back. There will be no more self-doubt or self-pity, and there will be no more excuses.

I rise, gasping for breath, and the air that hits my lungs is pure and refreshing. I walk directly from the lake to my clothes. I throw on my swim cover and scale the enormous hill back up to what used to be my camp. I move directly to my cabin and there I change into my black shorts and tank top. I lace up my boots and pack a bag with water, a jacket, and protein bars. I lace my fingers around the straps of my bag and I walk out into the sun, through the middle of camp, and into the woods. I hear the voices calling me—my girls and Farnsworth. It doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. That was the business of my past. The new Veronica has only one place to be.

****

I trudge through the woods for hours, doing my best to stay on the broken twigs that make some sort of a path. I am unclear where I am at all times, but I believe my heart will guide me. Hours tick by, but I refuse to stop. Mosquitoes buzz by my head, but none dare bite me. I sip water and eat my protein bars, but I take no time to rest. I am focused on only one thing and one person. It is not too long until I find her.

“Veronica Billings?” Brooke questions. “Are you incredibly stupid? Are you looking to die? Because I have no reason, Veronica, no reason at all to keep you alive.”

“Yes, you do.” I stand tall before her.

“I don’t care about your precious special blood,” she scoffs.

“I’m not talking about that. The only reason you have to keep me alive is because you love him.”

“So you think I’ll keep his girlfriend alive to spare his feelings? Oh, you don’t know me all that well, Veronica. He tricked me. I was out cold for hours. Do you know what could have happened to my camp then? Do you? He drugged me. I can’t have him, Veronica. And he’s all I’ve ever wanted. But I’m sure as hell not going to wish you two a happy life without me.”

“I don’t expect you to. But you must know Gunnar has attacked the Inferno.”

“That’s why I’m still here.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, uneasily.

“Okay,” I say. “If we get to Phoenix, together, we’ll have a chance to overthrow Gunnar.”

“I don’t need you,” she hisses.

“Yes, you do. Because I’m the Acting Principal Leader.”

She scoffs. “So I’ve heard.”

“And…because you don’t have enough troops to fight Gunnar. He has his rebels plus converts from the Inferno.”

“And you and Phoenix will make a difference?”

“I didn’t finish.” I put up my hand to silence her, and take a step closer. “And for all your bravado, you are being overrun by Farnsworth.”

“What are you talking about?” she asks, her voice low.

“I saw the Harvesters here. The first time I was here, with Phoenix. He didn’t recognize them, but I did. You have been infiltrated. It makes perfect sense. It explains why you sit here, unmoving.”

“Well, bravo, Veronica. So you’re not as much of an idiot as I thought. So what?”

“So you don’t want it. Come with me. I can convince Farnsworth to free you, and then together with Phoenix, we can convince the people of the Inferno to help stop Gunnar. We’ll deal with Farnsworth, later. Leave your camp and your past behind. You can help save Phoenix, and you will be certain you will never be heading toward a Coupling house, ever again.” My words sit heavily on her.

“Why would I come with you?” she asks.

“Because you want to. Because you know all the people in the Inferno are not bad. Because you want to be more than a powerless figurehead in your own camp. Because you want to be respected for your mind and not your body. Because you want to be part of a real revolution, and not play a seduction game, gathering useless troops. Convincing men to join your cause is not enough, Brooke. You joined Phoenix and his revolution because you wanted to accomplish something. Leave your feminine wiles here with all the useless men you’re leading on. Abandon the Harvesters and come with me.”

Again, Brooke shifts her weight from one foot to the other. She twirls the end of her hair with her forefinger.

“You’re wrong,” she counters, looking me in the eye. “The men I’ve gathered at my camp are not useless. There are some we can trust. They come with us. There is strength in numbers.”

“Okay.”

Brooke turns and then turns back to me. “The only reason I’m going to save him is so I can be the one to kill him.”

“Fine,” I mumble, wishing she was joking, and hoping she’ll change her mind when she sees him. Brooke walks back to her camp. Within half an hour, she has given her troops their literal marching orders, and she has joined me, a backpack filled with supplies on her back. We are hidden behind her tent, out of view of the nearest Harvesters. She carries a shotgun and hands me one as well. I look at her, surprised.

“What?” she asks. “You think I’m worried about you with a gun? Please. I saw how pathetic you were with a gun the day you were pretending to hold Phoenix hostage.” In a flash, she draws her gun and aims it at my head. “I could shoot you dead before you even think about shooting me.”

I step back from her. Uneasy. “Comforting,” I mumble. She seems satisfied.

“We go now,” she commands, “and a few of my troops will follow. It has to be done subtly, or we will be caught. And we have to go on foot. The motorbikes are too noticeable.”

“Okay,” I agree, and together Brooke and I venture out into the woods, heading for the Inferno and the boy we both love.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The trip back to the Inferno to find Phoenix is arduous. There is constant tension between Brooke and me, and more than once, I am convinced she is just waiting for the perfect moment to shoot me. She never wants me to lead, claiming she knows the woods better, but I know the truth is that she cannot relinquish control. Not to me. Finally, I put my foot down.

“It’s this way,” I whine, sweat pouring off both of us.

“No, Veronica, it’s not.” Brooke rolls her eyes and trudges off in the opposite direction.

This, at least, shows some progress. It’s the first time she’s stopped calling me “baby-killer” and used my real name. Suddenly, she stops in her tracks. She looks back at me and tilts her head to show me something straight ahead. In the twilight, I have to squint, but then I can clearly see the brown uniform of the Harvesters.

“Harvesters?” I mouth to her and she nods. We squat down among the cover of the brush and trees, trying not to breathe. Up ahead, there are two Harvesters, walking aimlessly through the woods. They each carry a gun, but aside from that and their brown uniforms, they don’t seem at all like Harvesters. Their posture is slumped over, and they appear nervous and lost.

“Converts?” I whisper, but Brooke just shrugs. “Are they yours?”

She shakes her head. One thing is certain, we will not be able to move forward without being spotted by them.

“We roll the dice,” I decide, standing up.