Afterland (41 page)

              I want him gone as much as anyone else, but I did think about what he said. How can we blame him for being bitter after everything that’s happened to him? Maybe he, like everyone else, just needs time to heal.

              I wonder if people see me the same way
—unable to get rid of my past. I have tried so hard to become someone different, someone separate from Hopetown, someone better than my mistakes. The Kerman father is the same. So when I feel distaste towards him, am I really feeling it towards myself?

              “We’ll be back for dinner,” Mike says in farewell and with our helmets properly adjusted and all necessary goodbyes exchanged, we set off, leaving a trail of dust behind us. Mike said that we would be going to the nearest powerline to cut it off again, but I got the sense that we’re going on this raid for the sake of having a place to talk away for the camp more than to sabotage the CGB. My suspicions are confirmed when Mike stops in an hour and a half in the middle of the forest.

              “We’ll stop for lunch now,” he says.

              “We had breakfast less than two hours ago.”

              “Just shut up and enjoy your sandwich.”

I don’t object a second time. How could I ever object to food?

              “So,” I say, swallowing my first bite, “You wanted to discuss something?”

              “Yeah.” He rubs dirt out of his left eye.

              “You look really tired.”

              He laughs weakly.

“No crap. I’ve slept ten hours in the last five days. I’ve been living solely off of tea.”

              “Then for Christ’s sake, Mike, get some goddamn sleep!”

              “Don’t worry about me. It’s not as bad as it seems.”

              “Are you serious, Mike? I am
—
was
—
an insomniac, so I know how important sleep is. If you don’t worry about yourself, somebody has to. The moment we get back to camp, you’re going straight to bed.”

Mike chuckles, but the laugh doesn’t quite reach his eyes. At least, not in the same way it sounded when it exited his mouth.

              “As soon as all of this is over…” he sighs.

              “When is that?”

              “I hope it’s soon,” he sighs and massages his temples. “I’m tired, to tell the truth. I’m ready to stop.”

              “Bear through, Mike, bear through. You’re almost at the end. And take a nap, for God’s sake.”

              “I know, I know. After the raid on the base, I think I might just drop down dead for several days.”

              “Yeah,” I sigh. “Me too. It’s been a busy time and a crazy month.”

              “No kidding. Raids, cults, resurrections...Speaking of which, there were things I needed to talk to you about.”

              “Right.”

              “First of all, I wanted to thank you again for what you and Sally did for me with the Sternmenschen. I’m really sorry about everything that happened, and I hope you know that I would never...”

              “I know, Mike. I’m sorry, too. I never really thought that you would kill me. I was just afraid.”

              “I know.” He sighs. “Please never try to die for me again,” he adds quietly.

              “We were never going to die.”

              Mike shakes his head.

              “It was still too dangerous. I’ll promise not to lie to you next time and you promise not to go off and die.”

              I smile.

              “Okay. And I assume the other thing you want to talk about is your father?”

              “Yes.”

              “Happiness isn’t an obligation, Mike.”

              “Isn’t it? I finally have my family back. We have a chance at a happy life. I don’t want to  ruin it, just because it isn’t what I imagined.”

              “Yeah. I know what you mean,” I say, thinking of how I turned Nathan down. “But think about it Mike: this is difficult for him too. He remembers you as children and he missed almost all of your childhood. He wants to reconnect too, but he isn’t sure who you are anymore.”

              “What are you suggesting?”

              “Just talk to him.”

              “He won’t talk to me.”

              “Will he listen, though? Just tell him about yourself, so he knows who his children grew up to be.”

              “I’m not sure he’ll be happy about it.”

              “He doesn’t have to be. He just has to know that you trust him.”

              “I don’t.
              “That isn’t the point, Mike. You don’t trust each other because you don’t know each other, and that leaves too much space for assumption. Stop assuming the worst and talk to each other.”

              “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right.”

              “Maybe.”

              We sit in silence as I chew my sandwich.

              “What happens after the war?”

              “It doesn’t have to be a war.”

              “But it will be. It is. You think the CGB will give up without a fight? I don’t think so. They’re going to want to stay in power, and let’s be frank, Mike. the weapons that they have are much more dangerous than the ones we have. Once we begin to fight, they will strike back. And we are not guaranteed to win, even if we do take down to base, even with the people on our side. They’re ahead of us already, and we’re vulnerable, like it or not.”

              “I know. I know. But we’ll never be stronger than we will after we take down the base. We have to act now.”

              “Do you think the people will follow us?”

              “They have to. If they want better lives.”

              “You don’t understand. You’ve never lived in a CGB town. We’re afraid of change more than we’re afraid of the CGB. Remember when you came to Hopetown? They put the entire town on lockdown, just because we haven’t seen a motor in two years. It’ll take more than just some pretty words to get the people on our side. It’ll take something real.”

              “Taking down the CGB base isn’t real enough?”

              “No. They can’t see it. It’ll take a sacrifice that they know and that they feel.”

              “Like what?”

              “I’m not sure.”

              “I just hope I’m not wasting your lives.”

              “You’re not, Mike. Even if we fail, it was already worth it.”

“These six months of your life would be worth failure?”

“Yes. Because these months have meant that we could have a better world.”

“Hmm.” Mike presses his knees to his chest. “I just hope that in creating a better world, we don’t hurt anybody else.”

              “I hope so too.”

“Three more minutes and then we’ll move out.”

              We ride for two more hours before Mike stops us. He points West and we begin to jog. We come to a large rise in the ground, as if something has been buried underneath it.

              “This is it,” Mike says. “You want to do it?”

              “Sure. You have the tools?”

He hands me his backpack. I pull out the shovel and uncover the powerline. Even that small segment of it looks malicious, like a dormant rubber snake. I pull out the saw and carefully begin to cut away at the line, cutting first through the rubber and then through all of the wires inside. Once the powerline has been completely severed, I look up at Mike for approval. He gives me a thumbs up and nods back to the direction from which we came. I push the saw back into the backpack. Mike takes it from me and we begin to jog back. Quick and simple, just like my first raid. It would seem almost pointless if one didn’t know how important communication is to the CGB.

We reach the snowmobiles. I begin to swing my leg over, when suddenly, I feel a sharp point at my back and a voice hisses words in my ear. 

“Don’t move.” 

I freeze. The breath I had begun doesn’t come out. I let my eyes move to Mike. I can see his body has gone rigid, but I don’t dare to move my head to see anything else.

              “Get off,” the voice hisses behind me. I put my leg back on the ground, careful not to put any more pressure into the point at my back. Next to me, I see Mike stepping off his snowmobile as well.

“Hands up.”

I lift my arms carefully. Once they are completely up, I feel the pressure release on my back.

“Turn around slowly. Don’t try to pull anything.” I begin to turn around and shoot Mike a quick glance. He shoots me a reassuring glance back.
It’ll be alright.
Despite his efforts, I can see the doubt in his eyes.

I turn around and find myself looking at a bayonet pointed at my chest. The knife at the tip glints menacingly, a grim reminder of how vulnerable I am.

I let my eyes move up to the face of the person holding it. A pair of thick rimmed broken glasses sits crookedly on the bridge of her nose. They are held together by what must be an entire roll of black tape. The right lense is cracked down the middle. She must have not had them replaced since the Blast.

Her black hair cascades in a straight sheet over her shoulders and down her back. Her face is round and her expression creased in a permanent frown. She would have been gorgeous if not for her condition. Her smooth skin is marred by multiple scars. Her hands are dirty and calloused. The dark circles under her eyes make her eyes recede into her head and her irises are hollow and emotionless. She must be about Big Sal’s age, but I’m not really sure. She looks really young and really old simultaneously.

“Stop staring at me,” she whispers. “Which one of you is in charge?” I glance at Mike. “Him? Move, so that I can see both of you at the same time.”

I move to Mike’s side. Now I can see a man with another bayonet standing in front of Mike.

“Speak, boy,” the woman says. “Where are you from?”

“We represent the Rebellion,” Mike says stiffly.

“The Rebellion.” She stares at us and I feel even more uncomfortable than I already do with the bayonet aimed at my heart. “And what are you doing here?”

“We were cutting the CGB’s powerlines, Miss. It cuts off their communication.”

I glance at Mike. I have never heard him call anybody miss. It’s an honor to even be called by name, much less an actual title. This woman must be very important.

Whoever she is, the way her dark eyes search my face is sharper than the bayonet pointed at  my chest.

“You say you’re from the Rebellion. Prove it.”

Mike looks around, as if afraid that somebody might be listening.

“For protection, we exchange the initiation of the Tertiad.”

Mike’s words spike a vague memory in me. After the raid, Nathan had said something about a Tertiad. What was it that he said exactly? Vague words drift back to me.
Fallen angels....protection….very powerful group.

I look up at the woman in front of me. Is she a Fallen Angel? If they are as powerful as Nathan told me, she seems like she would fit right in.

“So you are Mike Kerman,” The woman asks. Mike nods.. “It’s been a long time,” she says before turning her gaze to me. “And who are you?... You must be Molly, yes?”

I nod, bewildered. How did she know that? She turns back to Mike.

“Kerman, last I heard, you were still on A.”

“We’ve just found out the location of the CGB’s base this week, miss. We’ll be moving on to B next week.”

“Next week when?”

“Wednesday.”

“Good. Expect us on Monday. You’re free to go. Clear out.”

They drop their bayonets and slink back into the forest without giving us another glance. I get back on my snowmobile, confused. What just happened? Who is that woman? Why is Mike so nervous around her?

Mike hops onto his snowmobile and starts it up without saying anything.

We ride for an hour before we reach a path wide enough for two snowmobiles. I speed up and pull up next to Mike.

“Mike! What the hell just happened?”

“Keep riding. I can’t answer that here. When we get back…” I pull back behind him. What is going on? Mike rides lower on his bike as if hiding from something. And
Miss
? Mike refers to most people as
hey, you
.

I spend the next two hours in excruciating silent anticipation.

At some point, it begins to rain. I sigh melodramatically. The water droplets are cold and miserable. By the time we reach camp, the rain has died down to a drizzle, but I am shivering and Mike and I are soaked to the bone. As usual, the Rebellion cheers at our return. We hop off our snowmobiles. Big Sal runs up to us first, muttering, “You poor dears,” and handing us both towels.

“How’d it go?” somebody shouts.

“Good. Listen up: somebody get a fire going and be here in ten minutes. I have an announcement to make. Big Sal, will you get the two of us something warm to drink?”