Dissidence (32 page)

The way he said the last part worries me a little. Peter returns with my p
en and paper, and I jot down, ‘W
hat are we going to do with Jacob?’

Connor and Peter exchange an ominous glance. Why does that not feel like a good thing?

“I vote for shooting him.” At first
,
I can’t decide if Connor’s joking, and then when I do, I wish I hadn’t. He’s not.

‘No,’ I scribble. 

“He was going to
kill
you, Leigh,” Peter tells me, as though I’m not already aware of that fact.

I point vehemently to the ‘No’ again. It’s a lot harder to argue when you can’t talk.

“Well, we can’t just let him go, and we can’t keep him locked up in the guard tower forever, either.”

Why are they both looking at me? I’m th
e one lying in a hospital bed. S
houldn’t I get a break from the decision making for a while? 

“I guess we could just kick him out, like we did with the guards,” Peter sighs, sounding none too satisfied with the option. “From that point
,
he’s on his own, though. It’s up to him to save his own ass. We’re not that far from the closest colony. We’ve made the hike. He can worry about how to get them to let him stay. It’s more than he deserves.”

Thank you, Peter.

I jot down, ‘Yes,’ on my paper. I considered writing something a bit longer and more drawn out. Something including the word brains, but I decided that having ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ side by side would probably be more useful later on. Plus, I’m not sure how much paper is available, so I should probably keep my rants to a minimum for now. 

“I’d still rather shoot him,” Connor growls, “but if that’s what you want, we can gather the other leaders and make it official.”

I point to ‘Yes.’ I knew it would come in handy. Somehow
,
I manage to shoo them both out of the hospital and request a new cold pack from the doctor, all without a single word. 

As soon as I’m left alone, however, my hands start shaking again. I really need to get a grip. For the next two hours, I lie there silently
,
alternating between having the cold pack on and off my face. The fifteen minutes with it on feels much better than the fifteen off, but for the first ten of those minutes
,
my skin is still adjusting to the feel of the cold, so I’m really only even semi-comfortable for about five minutes out of every half an hour. After a while, the thought of shooting Jacob doesn’t sound like such a bad idea anymore. 

I’ve just about lost my mind by the time they get back. That’s what happens when I’m forced to spend too much time alone with myself
with nothing to distract me.

‘So?’ I write and shove the paper at them as soon as they’ve settled into the chairs beside me.

“Everything went fine,” Connor assures me.

I tap my wrist. I don’t have a watch on, but he gets the point.

“What to do with Jacob took all of about ten minutes to settle.
Lori and Allan weren’t thrilled with the idea of letting him go, but they got over it.
”

That explains a lot. I shrug.

“The rest of the time was spent talking about your plan.”

Peter shoots him an annoyed look, but he’s not as inconspicuous as he thinks he is. “You don’t need to worry about that right now.”

Ah, I get it. Don’t bother the poor little sick girl with the important stuff. Well, I’m fine
,
even if I can’t talk, or maybe even sit up without
feeling like I’m going to hurl.
I
t doesn’t stop me from thinking.

‘We need to leave soon,’ I write.

“That’s what everyone was saying,” Connor tells me, and Peter rolls his eyes.

“We’re not going anywhere today, so why don’t you just get some rest.” There’s no arguing with Peter when he’s in overprotective mode. And, as annoying as it may be, after last night
,
it feels good to be protected.

But right now, there’s work to be done. ‘3 days,’ I write.

“Three days?” Peter asks. “You want to leave here in three days?”

The doctor said I should be mostly healed up by then, and I am anxious to get this moving as soon as I can speak again. I might need my voice to negotiate. ‘Yes.’

“We’ll have to start making preparations now
,
then,” Connor points out, and I nod. That would be why I’m saying it now.
Duh
.

“How many should we take with us?” Peter has abandoned his attempts to keep me out of it.

‘Just leaders.’

“You want to go see the President with only the nine of us?”

I really wish I could speak. This is going to be a pain to have to write out. ‘We don’t want to look like a threat. We’re not going there to fight, just talk.’

“She has a point,” Connor tells Peter, who doesn’t disagree. Maybe I should argue on paper more often. 

“All right.
Three days, are you sure?”

‘Yes.’ 

Peter resigns himself to agreeing with us, and the two of them leave again to go and tell the others. This time
,
I have some serious thoughts to keep me occupied. What will we do once we reach Pennsylvania? I seriously doubt we can just walk up to the Presidential compound and ring the doorbell.

***

The doorbell ends up being unnecessary
,
seeing as how we’re greeted by n
early twenty soldiers—and their guns—
the moment we disembark. We’ve just spent the past sixteen hours sitting on a train, my throat is still raw, and my face is still sore to the touch, so I’m hardly in the mood for this. Most of the welcoming committee is dressed in normal guard uniforms, but about a half
dozen of them are sporting old-fashioned A
rmy fatigues. I’ve never seen someone dressed like that outside the movies. It’s one of the regular looking guards, however, that addresses us first.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“We’re the dissidents.” Now may not be the best time to rub our transgressions in their faces, but Connor says it so proudly that I can’t help but smile a little. “And we’re here to talk to the President.”

“Are you in charge here?” One of the stra
ngely dressed men steps forward
and examines us all with a critical gaze. No one moves. No one says a word.

“You were asked a direct question,” the first guard barks.

Connor subtly shifts in front of me. Like that’s going to stop me. Sidestepping the human
wall that he and Peter have decided to erect in my path, I push my way to the front of the group.

“No, I am.” The look on his face when I step forward says it all. Trust me
,
pal, I was no less surprised when I found out. “We need to see the President. We have something to say, and he’s going to want to hear it.”

“The President, huh?” he laughs. “Arrest them.”

Before I can react, my hands are yanked behind me and secured, making my ribs scream. The others are taken into custody as well, and we’re all shuffled forward as a large fumbling group.

“Take them inside.”

It may not be exactly
the way I’
d hoped, but at least we’re getting through the front doors.
Baby steps.
We’re urged toward two metal doors built right into a mountain side.
Yeah, a mountain.
Thoughts of the mines come rushing back to me, and I’m immediately feeling claustrophobic at just the memory of those cramped, airless tunnels.

The men dressed in the army fatigues remain outside when the doors swing open, and the guards usher us through. Inside, I’m amazed by what I see. It’s nothing like the mines at all. In fact, from this side of the door
,
you’d have no idea you were inside a mountain whatsoever. The hallways are brightly lit and spacious. The few rooms I can actually see into as we pass by are lavishly decorated with thick rugs and fancy looking furniture. It’s like some kind of optical illusion, and it’s completely messing with my head. For a few minutes, I completely forget where we are, and why we’re here, and even the fact that I’m in handcuffs as I gawk at the sights.

One of the guards gives my arm a harsh tug, causing a breath to hiss between my teeth. “What’s going on? Where are you taking us?”

He doesn’t answer. I can’t say I’m really surprised. None of them says a word as we’re escorted along several corridors and then left standing in one while
the guy in charge, I assume,
disappears into a side room. We wait around for about ten minutes, twiddling our thumbs, surrounded by our silent sentries until he remerges
,
looking somewhat amused. Of course, that immediately
cranks up my nervous level
, which was already floating somewhere just south of the panic zone.

“What is going on?” I demand.

“You want to see the President? Then let’s go see the President.”

Chapter 30

We’re propelled into another room, and I promptly trip over one of those plush rugs I was just admiring. Without the use of my ha
nds, I stumble right into Peter,
who tries his best to steady me without the use of his. Not exactly the first impression I’d imagined.

“Release them.” I recognize President
Syms
immediately, sitting at the head of a large, intricately carved wooden table. Who wouldn’t? “
Kaleigh
Matthews?”

I can only nod, stunned silent by the sound of my nam
e on the President’s lips. Then
I remember who I’m speaking to a
nd address him properly, “Yes, S
ir.”

My still aching ribs make me think of a few other things I’d like to call him instead, but you catch more flies with honey, and if there was ever a bug worth catching, it’s this guy.

“I’ve been hoping to have a chance to meet you.”

He has? “You have?” My brain to mouth filter seems to be malfunctioning again. Not great timing.

He laughs. I’m being laughed at by the
President
. E
nough said.

“Yes, I have.” I ease down into a chair about as far away from President
Syms
as I can get. Connor and Peter take the seats to either side of me, and everyone else just fills in wherever seats are available. “I apologize for your not-so-warm welcome. That was all a rude, yet necessary show.”

“Show for
who
?” Connor inquires.

“The troops outside.”

“Aren’t they
your
troops?”

“There’s so much you don’t know. Allow me to explain. How much do you know about the camps?”

“If you’re talking about
Permatech
, then we already know. We heard all about it from Drew Reynolds.” I figure it’s best to just get that out of the way. If there’s anything I hate more than a history lesson, it’s
an ancient history lesson
.

“So
you know all about William
Perman
, then. How he took control of the resources and negotiated for the release of them to the general public, but do you know what he got in return?”

“Yeah . . . us.”
It comes out a little harsher than it was meant to, but I still can’t believe people could trade in human lives.

“That’s true. We did agree to supply his camps with a labor force, but it was so much more than just that.”

More
.
I
s that even possible?

“What else?” Peter sounds as frustrated by all of this as I am. I didn’t ask because I’m honestly not sure I want to know the answer.

“
Perman
wasn’t happy with just some workers and more money than you or I can fathom. He demanded control of the remaining military be turned over to him. And it was.”

“Robert
Perman
controls the A
rmy?” My voice comes out steady, not at all like my hands which
are
trembling so badly I have to shove them in my pockets just so that no one will notice.

“Yes.”

It takes a few moments for my shocked brain to make any logical sense out of his words.
Annnnd
, I’m sorry I asked. That was just about the last thing I expected to hear. Reynolds certainly failed to mention that little nugget of information.

“What the hell is he using the military for?” Connor blurts out.

“Guards mostly, for himself and his company.
And, in case you didn’t notice, he’s planted more than a few in my front yard to keep an eye on things here.
Thus
,
your warm reception.
If he got wind that we were talking with you instead of arresting you on site, he’d know something’s up, and he would have his men do it for us. Mostly, they’re just an insurance policy. We can’t decide to just take what we need by force if
he
controls all of the force.”