Dissidence (19 page)

The sun is especially hot today. If we don’t get serious about putting some sort of plan in motion soon, I’m going to burn t
o a crisp out in these fields.
I’m just taking a quick break to wipe the sweat out of my eyes when a girl catches my attention.
I recognize her. She’s the girl from registration, the one I watched get branded.
She must be around my age, but she’s small, especially compared to the large brick wall of a guard bearing down on her.
I have no idea what she did, but she just keeps repeating, “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to
,
” as she crab crawls backwards away from him. As though there isn’t enough drama unfolding already, the guard feels the need to flick his whip menacingly at her before pulling it back over his shoulder.

Déjà vu slams into me like a freight train on acid. It looks
like a scene right out of my so-
called ‘trial
’
.
I know what I’m
supposed
to do in this situation, and I’m fairly well acquainted with what happens if I don’t, but I also know myself. I am who I am and, as stupid as it probably makes me, I’m not going to let them change that.

“Leigh, what are you doing?
Leigh
!”

She’s no mor
e than five feet from where I’m
working, so I make it to her in no time flat. I hear Peter shout my name one more time as I fling myself in front of her, throwing up my arm to protect my face. The whistle of the leather strap cutting through the air seems like the only sound on earth, and then pain blossoms around my forearm. Pain like I have never felt before. If I had known how much that was going to hurt, I may not be standing here right now. But I am, and it’s a little late to back down now. So instead of letting it show, I grab the whip with my free hand and yank it out of the guard’s grasp,
unwrapping
it from my blazing arm, and dropping it in the dirt at my feet.

Chapter 17

Ah, hell
. The entire field has stopped working to stare at me, and the guard looks murderous. Seriously, why don’t I ever think things through? My brain is tripping over words, trying to string together some sort of coherent sentence when all of a sudden I hear a roar coming from behind the guard. At first, I’m certain that it’s more guards
coming to his aid, and that I’
m utterly screwed, but then I realize it’s not the guards . . . it’s the workers . . . and they’re all cheering. Part of me desperately wants to take a bow, but I’m afraid that may be pushing it.

“You’re not so bright sometimes.” Peter’s standing beside me, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don’t know. Like what the hell’s going on?”

“If I had to guess . . . I’d say you probably just did something they’ve all wanted to do for a long time.”

Fantastic, go me, but I’m sure there’s a good reason none of them have done it before. Like, maybe they have a few more brain cells than I do. The guard seems to have recovered from his shock, and is waving over several others, who are pushing their way through the crowd toward us.

“Um . . . maybe you don’t want to be standing right there,
” I tell Peter, but the look
he shoots me squelches any other similar comments I had forthcoming. The crowd inches closer around
us,
and the guard is starting to look more than a little uncomfortable without his weapon of choic
e, waving his friends on with
more vigor.

“Stop them
!
” Peter’s sudden shout makes m
e jump. “Don’t let them through!
” He’s addressing the crowd, encouraging them to . . . what? Protect me? “Stand up for yourselves. There are more of us then there are of them. Do something about it! This is your chance!”

Perfect!
Like things weren’t bad enough before, now we can add inciting a riot to our list of offenses. I watch
,
horrified, as the workers turn their back on us and charge the incoming guards. They’re actually list
ening to him.
U
nbelievable.
Could this get any worse? The guard’s whips fly through the air, landing indiscriminately. But, the swell of workers doesn’t cease. Within minutes, the whistling of the whips dies away, as the guards are overrun and disappear beneath the crowd of workers.

I think its shock that kee
ps my brain from registering
when the first wave of bullets pellets the ground. I just stand there, staring as bodies
drop
.

“We need to find cover, now!” Peter takes hold of my hand, and I follow obediently until we reach the side of one of the metal building
s
with an overhanging roof.

Pressed up against the scorching metal, I peer out at what’s happening. The guards continue to fire from their perches on top of the fence, and large groups of workers are actually charging the towers. What have we started?

“We need a weapon.” Peter’s voice takes me by surprise.

“What? Are you kidding? What we need is to hide . . . or better yet, get the hell out of here.”

“We can’t just watch them get shot down, Leigh.”

“And
getting shot down with them is the better option?”

“Neither.” He points up at a guard tower, just feet from where we’re standing.

The majority of the fighting is concentrated on the far side of the yard, and this guy looks like he is about to pee his pants, watching it all unfold. He definitely hasn’t seen us hiding here. Oh man, we are about to do something else really stupid.

“Fine . . . and
you
call
me
an idiot.”

We s
lip out from under the overhang
and head straight for the ladder secured to the fence.

“Stay here,” Peter whispers when we reach the base of the ladder, but I’m fairly certain he already knew the answer to that request before it ever came out of his mouth, or at least he should have, so I don’t even bother replying.

I climb the ladder one rung behind him, amazed the entire time that this fool at the top has still failed to notice us. In fact, he’s so surprised when Peter vaults over the railing at the top that he’s disarmed and lying on the floor in surrender before I can even reach them. Guess I didn’t need to make the climb after al
l. So, now we’ve got a weapon. R
eally hope Peter’s plan extended beyond this point.

“Tie him up.” Peter tosses me the guards whip, and I just stare at it dumbfounded for a second. We’re really doing this. I wrap it around the man’s wrists and behind him to the railing as securely as I can manage.
It’s not like I have a lot of experience with tying people up. 

“Well, now what?” Peter’s already surveying the situation below us when I join him.

Bodies are strewn all over the yard. A couple of other towers have been overrun by sheer force, but there are at least three more that I can see from here where bullets are still flying. As hard as I try, I can’t find Connor in the chaos unfolding below us. When I glance back at Peter, I see him lining up the gun he took off of the guard, aiming at the next closest tower.

“Have you ever fired one of those before?” I ask, already sure that I know the answer.

“How hard can it be?”

How hard can it be? Did the guy holding the long range rifle seriously just say the words ‘how hard can it be?’ 

“Peter, are you sure . . .” Before I get the chance to finish the sentence, he pulls the trigger and a deafening blast erupts from the gun barrel.

Peter stumbles backwards, and I grab his arm before he can fall off the tower entirely. We recover just in time to see the guard in the next tower topple over the edge and plummet to the ground below. He did it.

“You actually did it!”

“You could at least try to conceal your surprise.”

Why bother? Why bother concealing my surprise about
any
of this? Peter is already lining up another shot, and this time I opt to keep my mouth shut and let him concentrate. My eyes flick over the crowds out in the fields
,
looking for any sign of Connor.

This time it takes three bullets to take down his target, but he does it again. I’m no less surprised the second time. While he’s busy playing Rambo, I’ve actually managed to catch sight of Connor, an impressive feat even with his extra-large size. He’s gotten his hands on a weapon from one of the fallen guards and managed to take out the final tower. The firing has ceased and, in the quiet that follows, my ears buzz. The crowds are cheering below us, several people ar
e slapping Connor on the back—
like he need
s the extra ego boost—
and everyone seems to be celebrating over and around the bodies of the dead and injured strewn across the fields.

“What just happened?” My voice barely registers above a whisper because I can’t decide if I actually want to hear the answer or not.

“I think . . . we just took over the camp.” Peter sounds as stunned as I feel.

“Oh . . . okay.” What else is there really to say right now?

“Leigh.” Peter just says my name and proceeds to stare at me. I want to ask him what he wants, but I don’t because, for the life of me, I cannot figure out what is behind that look in his eyes. “Leigh, I . . . I’m glad you’re here. I know I haven’t been acting like it, but I am.”

I
t’s the closest to an apology/
thank you that I’m likely to get, so I’ll take it. “You mean you’re glad I’m crazy?”

“Obviously, otherwise none of this would have worked.” He laughs,
really
laughs,
and I’m just so glad to have my
friend back that I laugh too, w
hich is completely absurd since we are still far from out of trouble yet.

“We need to find Connor and figure out where to go from here. We can’t stay long. Someone’s bound to notice eventually, and we need to be long gone before then.”

“Right
.
Connor.”
Like he forgot about him.

He was somewhere near the far tower the last time I saw him, but that was a lot easier from t
wenty feet in the air. I grab hold of Peter—
the last thing I need is to
lose him in this mob scene too—
and we push our way in that general direction.

“I thought I told you to stay out of trouble, Girlie,” Connor calls to me when he sees us coming.

“Don’t look at me. T
his is
all
his
fault.” I point over at Peter who’s watching me incredulously.

“My fault?
I’m not the one who jumped in front of some whip wielding guard.”

“And I’m not the one who started shouting for the workers to attack the guards, or did you forget that little addition to this whole situation?”

Connor just stands there staring at the two of us gape
-
jawed. Yup, that’s us, we never cease to amaze.

“
I saw your little cheering section down here. Don’t think I missed that,” I rib
Connor
.

“Oh yeah?
You
wanna
be my cheerleader, Girlie?”

“Not on your life.” For the first time in over a month, I’m genuinely happy, and I can’t help but laugh until I snort, which of course sets Connor off. Peter only rolls his eyes, which inexplicably makes me laugh even harder. When I finally manage to pull it together
,
I notice that a crowd of workers has formed around us. 

“What are
we supposed to do n
ow?” The question comes from
a woman
near the front
.

It
surprises me. I just figured it would be every man for
himself
at this point. I didn’t really expect them to want to continue to work together, but maybe only I am that selfish. What surprises me even more is that the question is directed at me.
Me
…
is
she joking? How am
I
supposed to know?

Chapter 18

Every last trace of humor evaporates almost instantaneously
,
and I’m left utterly stunned. Obviously they have no idea who they’re talking to. If they even had the slightest idea what I was doing here in the first place
,
there’s no way they’d be asking
me
what to do.

“Told
ya
you started this.”
Now
Peter decides to develop a sense of humor?

From where we’re standing, I have a clear view of the front gate. Dozens of workers have forced them open and are fleeing, but hundreds more remain. Apparently, they’d rather allow someone else to make their decisions for them, follow along like the good little sheep they’ve been trained to be. For once, so would I. Too bad I’ve somehow managed to get myself thrown onto center stage like the freaking ring leader of this damn circus.