Warrior

Chapter 1

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I’m sitting on the roof of my apartment building where I can see the distant battle camps and the bright city lights. It’s six in the morning, but the sun hasn’t risen yet, so I am sitting in darkness. The breeze isn’t exactly cold, but it’s definitely not warm. It stings against my cheeks, making them cold, then hot. My legs are swinging freely off the ledge of the building when the sound of the bell pierces my ears. I haul my upper body up by my arms, grab the rope, and lower myself down to the ground with it, feet dragging against the brick walls of the building. The rope scratches against my palms as my hands clutch onto it, but it barely buys my attention because of the amount of times I have done this. The rope. My father made that for me, and it brings back memories of him. One of his rough hands closed around mine as the other expertly twined pieces of straw together. Every time I touch the rope, I can feel tears in the back of my eyes, but I blink them back before they can come out. Breathe in, breathe out.

When my feet touch the rough pavement, I tie the rope to the pipe sitting against the building to keep it from swaying. The bell clangs a second time, the sound of it ringing in my ears repeatedly. The strong wind slaps the back of my shirt against my skin repeatedly, crawling up my spine and grazing my neck. I shiver. The bell rings again, the last and final warning. The bell is a reminder bell for nurses to return to our houses or any nearby bulletproof building before the battle rises and the warriors come out.

The warriors. They fight for our country instead of hiding like cowards at the sound of the bell—like us nurses do.

Our world is split into two groups—nurses and warriors. Warriors, who defend their people and fight the war against the East, and the nurses, who heal injured warriors. East and West Baylor have been at war for more than a decade now, with thousands of innocent lives dead, yet the warriors haven’t given up, still determined to protect their people. The North and the South, on the other hand, keep their way out of this mess and mind their own business.

I swing open the entrance door of the apartment, gripping the metal handles so hard that my knuckles turn white. I’m not worried about the war or eager to get inside to safety, but something different. The fight my mother and I had yesterday scared me, not because of her anger but because I’m afraid she’ll continue to blame me for my father’s death. It’s a common act for a mother to be angry at their child for being careless, but thinking about my father is painful. That’s why I avoid the truth. It hurts; it hurts more than it hurts for my sister or my mother. It makes me tremble all over, it makes me want to collapse. There once was a father-daughter bond between my father and me, and it broke. Because of me.

I quickly enter the building and press the elevator button that was once embedded tightly into the gray walls but now is loosened and falling out. The paint on the walls is peeling off, and no one bothers to fix it because, you know, it’s irrelevant and a waste of money.

The elevator door opens, and I step in. The doors close and the elevator accelerates upwards, and I stumble because of how fast it’s travelling. And also because my head is throbbing from thinking of my father. I make my way out of the elevator and pause at the door of our apartment. My fingers hesitate over the doorknob. Last night, mom screamed at me for being useless and stupid, not being able to save him and all. I know she only lost her temper, it was a loss of control. She still loves me. But I still ache at the memory. I turn away; I cannot go home anymore.

I pause after a few steps. The memories and items my father gave me are still in my room, in the apartment. I take a deep breath, turn around, and enter.

When I walk in, no one is home. I find a note on the counter from my sister Caroline. I steady my balance by clutching onto the counter, and it’s so cold that it freezes my entire palm.

Leah, it says. Mom is at work in the hospital again, and I’m going to work. Today is your first day of nurse training, so you should be there. 9 am. Good luck, Carol.

I clutch the note in one hand and think about training in nursing school. Every child starts training at the age of 16 and joins the army or becomes a nurse or doctor after two years. More strict rules. My mother has always told me to be calm, to be patient. She taught me rules of respect, to focus on important things and important people and ignore irrelevant ones that aren’t worthy of our time. She is the leader of the nurses, after all. Such terrible, terrible irony. My mother, the leader of the reliable, loyal, and sympathetic nurses. But me? A disappointing mistake. Although my sister always tries to assure me I’m not, I know I am. The looks I used to get in school—those disapproving looks still sting in my memory—said it all. Oh well. She always has Carol, the perfect daughter that’s always meeting up the standards. She has it so easy.

I already know about the strict rules the teachers will make us follow at nurse training, and I also know I’m not good enough and will somehow be suspended. I read the last part Carol had written for me. 9 am. I check the time. It’s only 6:20. If I go to the training course, it’ll just lead to my mother and sister scolding me because I did something wrong—and yeah, I am bound to do something wrong. But if I don’t go? I’m just as dead.

I don’t even realize that I’m holding my breath until I breathe out. And then I think: I just want to leave the Nurse Section.

Thinking it, truly thinking it, without withholding anything or trying to convince myself otherwise, is like a breakthrough. A breath of fresh air. I want to leave.

But then I’ll be stranded on the battlefield and the warriors’ bullets will hit me and I will die.

No. I shake my head briskly. That’s what nurses—cowards— say. Warriors are brave, determined, and fight for their country. They fight for freedom. They would never be careless with guns. My father was probably shot by a Western warrior. I push the thought away almost immediately after it enters my head.

It is now that I realize I want to escape. Escape home, a home of never-ending rules and a woven tapestry of fear and distressing comfort.

I place the note back onto the counter and trudge down into my room. The apartment is small, so it only takes a few steps until I reach my room. I glance around. My room is filled with my father’s belongings. I glance at each photo, creation, and memory, hastily stuff them all into a black leather back. The black leather bag. The one my father had brought home to me that day. I was crying that day. I can’t remember why, but I was sobbing, and my father came home from work with a freshly woven black leather bag, and I immediately smiled. Sighing, I heave the black bag onto my shoulder. I take one last look at my room, knowing that even after I leave, each and every aspect of it will remain burned into my memory—and I don’t can’t define it as good or bad. Maybe a bit of both.

Finally, after hovering around for a few more minutes, I leave the room and the whole house behind.

When I step out of the apartment building, I start to worry. Where will I go? How will I get there? I bite my lower lip, realization sinking in halfway, but I refuse to accept it. I’ve always been the type to act first, think later. Damnit.

I decide to go find Lynne and ask her to come with me. Lynne, who protected me from my mother’s screams and my father’s death. Lynne, who was always there for me no matter what. We’ve been friends since forever. Like, forever ever. She’ll understand. And two heads are better than one.

I jog towards her house, down the quiet road and past bright green shrubs. They gleam bright, almost too bright compared to the rest of nature—a dark, shadow casting over the grass that has turned yellow overtime, grey and depressing buildings followed by more. I skid to a stop at the sight of Lynne’s house. The grey cement house stands tall at the end of the road, casting a shadow over their driveway. I ring the doorbell. The grass around their house has started to turn yellow, and the doorsteps are moulding. Strange, I think because Lynne’s mother has always been neat and careful, paying attention to all the small details.

Lynne answers the door. I do a double-take when I see her. Whoa. Her hair is unkempt, eyes puffy and wild. She’s still in her pyjamas—abnormal because, being Lynne, she never stays in bed past six.

“Hey,” she croaks, sniffling.

“Hi,” I say with uncertainty. I’m pretty sure now isn’t the time to bring up my desire to escape. “You okay?”

Lynne hesitates, her lower lip trembling.

“No,” she finally says, a fresh stream of tears running down her cheeks.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I say, although it’s probably not, since she’s crying. “Let’s go talk somewhere else.”

She wipes her tears with her sleeves, then nods. Being my curious self, I take a glimpse of the inside of her house before she closes it. It surprises me, but seeing her lowers the amount of shock. A smashed vase sits on the ground, along with piles of clothes and other random items. Worry begins to rise in my stomach.

We walk down the street and turn right around the curve to the park we always used to go to when we were kids. I take a seat on one of the benches we carved our names onto a couple of years ago. She does the same.

“So…” I begin when the silence starts to feel awkward. “What happened?”

“My…my parents got into a fight,” she sniffs. “My mom left…she said she needed some time alone. She hasn’t been back for a couple of days now.”

I’m speechless. My mouth drops open but I’m careful not to let Lynne see. Her parents were always on good terms; she’s the last person I thought would have family problems.

“Hey, it’s alright…I’ll be here for you.” I touch her shoulder lightly, for her shoulder looks so fragile I feel as if I weigh my hand on her, it will break her.

She smiles softly through her tears and leans into me. I lightly pat her shoulder, then hesitate but decide to hug her back tightly. We sit on the bench quietly, leaning into each other. The sun slowly peeks out of the hill in the distance and the birds fly high above. Sitting here like this almost feels serene, at least for me. An escape. I wonder if Lynne feels the same way, or if her mind is still running. Finally, Lynne breaks the silence.

“I just…don’t know what to do…” she says weakly. So she is still thinking about it.

“Sometimes,” I say. “You just need to face the pain head-on. But you won’t be alone. I’ll always be with you.” Hopefully together, but somewhere far, far away, I add inside my head. Lynne smiles at me, but I can tell it’s forced.

She sits up straight. Tries to hide her pain. “Enough about me. What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me,” she says with an eye roll. “You didn’t come over just to say hi, did you?”

“Right. About that.” After hearing her news, mine doesn’t feel like it’s worth being said aloud. But I say it anyway. “Well…things have been rough with my mom.” I don’t say it’s about my father, since she probably knows.

“Leah,” Lynne says, turning to face me. Her dried tears mark her face. “It’s been so long since your father….You need to be strong and keep going. I’m not saying forget, but forgive. Forgive yourself.”

“I know,” I say, my hands shaking. Talking about this again, reliving the pain...it hurts. “But I just feel like it’s my fault. My father was there for me, looking out for me, but I was careless. And he was shot.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s not your fault. You were being yourself. And he got shot, coincidentally, by a soldier in a nearby battlefield.”

I take a deep breath. “Anyway, what I was going to say to you was…I’m leaving.” I look down, at the ground, not sure if I want to see her expression.

Silence falls over the two of us for a second. “You’re…what?”

“I feel trapped here, and I want to go somewhere with freedom. I feel like I’ve lived my whole life under rules and punishments. And…I came here to ask if you want to come with me.” I glance up hopefully.

“Well…” Lynne says. Now it’s her turn to avoid my gaze. “I-I really would, but...I’m so sorry, Leah, but I want to stay with my father. He’s sad enough without my mother, and if I leave, I don’t know what would happen to him.”

I nod. Although I had hoped she would come, I understand why she would choose to stay.

Lynne continues. “On the other hand, are you sure this is what you want? The warriors are brutal and careless, and you’d get shot the moment you left the safe zone.”

A sigh escapes from my mouth. “Honestly, at this point, I just want to escape. Anything’s got to be better than here.”

“I understand,” Lynne says softly. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” Then we get up and leave the park—possibly together for the last time.

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Chapter 2

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After Lynne leaves for nursing school, I stand on the sidewalk where my sister and I used to play. We’d pretend to be warriors and fight with guns and arrows. When one of us defeated the other, they would play dead. That was long ago. After my father’s death, we seemed to drift apart, Caroline taking care of my mother and going to nursing school more often, and me staying alone on the top of buildings or the hill of the park, floating in my own world. It’s something you should be ashamed of, my mind always tells me. I ignore it; or, I try to push it out of my mind. Ever so often someone would die of the bullets of an eastern warrior, and I would think of my father, how he was just one of those deaths, so irrelevant and insignificant. We say we’re selfless, but when invasions occur, we all hide in our secured houses, thinking of no one but ourselves.

I step away from the sidewalk and make my way to the road. A bus stop is a few feet ahead, and a gray bus waits. I jog towards it, taking nothing but my black bag.

However, before I reach the stop, a guard seems to appear out of nowhere and completely block my way. He towers over me in his gray suit, making me feel small and weak. I guess that’s what makes a guard appalling. I groan inwardly. In my excitement, I had completely forgotten about the guards.

“Where do you think you’re heading?” he says, growling a little. The sun reflects off his sunglasses into my eyes. I squint at him, acting as nonchalant as possible while my heart beats up a storm inside my chest.

Frantically, I think up a lie. “I’m heading to the warrior compound to speak to their leader. It was Edith’s request.” Edith is my mother’s name.

“And who are you to be able to take up such a responsibility?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m her daughter...Leah Hollis.” I take out my ID card from my pocket to show him for proof. All nurses have an ID card for identification.

“Ah,” he says, nodding his head as if he had recognized me the whole time, but was just playing along. “May I ask what important note you must deliver to the warriors at this time of the day?”

“You can’t know,” I say, gripping onto the lower hem of my shirt, feeling panicky. “It is restricted information.” But I know I have him. If he stops me and I let Edith—sorry, my mother—know, he could be in big trouble.

The guard looks at me with suspicion but backs off to let me pass. I dash towards the bus before he can change his mind, hugging the black bag close to my chest.

I clamber up the creaky steps of the bus and grab onto a pole, not bothering to sit down. The bus is lit with dimmed yellow lights and stinks of exhaust. There is no one around—not even a driver. It was replaced with an automatic driving device a few years ago.

After a while, the bus lurches forward. It starts off slowly, but once it gains proper speed, it starts to travel so fast that the scenery outside the windows is a blur and the pole shakes in my hand.

I stand for what seems like hours. Slowly, the scenery begins to change— I no longer see the blurred battlefields but instead, I see continuous buildings. Each building is less damaged than the other, and I can no longer hear gunshots.

The bus comes to a stop, and I can finally see where I am. The warrior training compound. A bit into the left distance I can see more compounds. Buildings surround me—but they seem to have changed. They look like the ones near the battlefields, broken and battered. I frown. They are nowhere near the battlefields, how could that be? Could the warriors possibly war against themselves? I shake my head. Impossible.

I half walk, half run down the stairs of the bus. I check the time on my watch. It’s 8:50, which means training here should start in ten minutes.

The compound is a low, one-floor building that stretches so long on both sides that I can’t see the end of it. There are a few glass windows, so thin that it looks as if a light punch could break it.

The warriors. I’ve never been too close to one, but I’ve seen them from a distance. Suddenly, I realize I have no destination. Am I going to be wandering around for the rest of my life? But then a question stunts me harder than the others: Are there people in the East who are neither a nurse nor a warrior?

A gunshot rises in the sky, and I walk closer to the building for safety. I hear more gunshots and bombs. The sound is much larger than from the nurse areas, and the thuds in my eardrums. As I reach the building, I roam carelessly around on the cracked pavement around the compound. Not long after a few steps, two guards holding pistols come out of the glass entrance. I take a few steps back and try to dash away, but it is too late and they have their strong grips on my shoulder, their hands squeezing so hard my whole arm hurts. I glance warily at their pistols.

“What’s a little nurse girl doing around the warrior training compound?” One of the guards sneers, and I scowl. I’m not little, I’m taller than a lot of people in the nurse building. But I guess warriors are stronger and bigger.

“You know you’re asking for a death wish, right?” The other guard says, his voice is deep and thick. I stay silent, unaware of what to say.

The guard that called me a little girl chuckles. “Let’s bring her into William.” He kicks me in the shin to get me moving forward. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from crying out. The guards push me in through the glass door. As I stumble along, I think of my mother and Caroline. Will they notice I am missing? Will they look for me? I feel a twinge of guilt.

In the building, there is the main entrance leading to two different hallways, one of which has glassy walls and floors. I peer curiously towards the hallway, but the guards haul me in the other direction. The hallways have brick walls and a dusty tiled floor. I kick at the dust as they push me forward. At the end of the hallway, there are five different rooms, and the guards shove me into a brown oak door. The room is big and is dimmed with a blue light. There is one window with a view of a dark alley. Below the window is a large desk, and a man is sitting in it. William, I assume. He types for a while at his computer then looks up at me.

“Found this little nurse girl wandering around the compound,” the guard says.

“A rebel from the nurses?” William frowns. “What’s your name?”

It isn’t a friendly gesture, it’s more of a threat.

“Leah,” I say nervously.

“Well, Leah,” he says. “I’m going to be nice and give you two choices.”

I raise an eyebrow. William seems full of apathy, and someone not to mess with, so I choose my words carefully. “Okay…”

“Stay with us and become a warrior,” he pauses, then says, “or die.”

I stare at him for a second. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I can’t help myself. I didn’t expect such violence. I shake my head ever so slightly so no one could see. Not all warriors are like that. I just know it.

“I- I would stay and be a warrior,” my voice is shaking with fear. Fear, not of becoming a warrior, but because of whether I had made the right choice. I’ve always seen the warriors fight for their country, and yes, I am inspired by them. But this decision is big—it practically decides my future.

“Alright,” William nods, then scans me with a trace of doubt. “Training takes place in ten minutes. You’d better pull yourself together quickly because the others have been preparing themselves for all their life. If I see you slacking off...let’s just say that I might change my mind on giving you two choices.”

“Okay,” I say apathetically, although on the inside I’m screaming with fear.

“Elijah, take her to Oliver in the training compound,” William says in a flat voice. “I’d like to have a word with Caleb.” He nods toward one of the guards, whose hand is still on my shoulder. Caleb releases my shoulder, and I feel a wave of relief. Elijah drags me out the door. I try to eavesdrop on Caleb and William’s conversation, but the door is shut as I head out the door. Elijah forces me into the training compound. He releases me, and I stumble a little.

“I suppose you can deal with this yourself,” he smirks and turns around, leaving me alone. I push the door open. The compound is large, much larger compared to what we had back in the nurse compound. The walls are a thick gray colour, and the lights are dimmed so lightly that the compound is practically dark. I spot a group of people gathered around a corner. The other students, I suspect. Before them stands a boy, only a few years older than me. I walk as confidently as I can toward them, passing weight lifts and gun racks. There are eight other students, and I realized how short I am compared to them. They look down at me with disgust.

“Hey everyone,” Oliver’s voice says. “Welcome to your first training session.”

Oliver then spots me in the crowd of 16-year-old warriors, giving me an unimpressed look. He walks towards me, and the crowd makes way. Oliver lifts my head with his finger on my chin. And looks at me in the eye.

“You are…?”

I shudder, feeling the urge to slap his hand away. “And why should I tell you?” I don’t know where my attitude came from, but the words just spilled out of my mouth.

“Ah. A nurse,” he nods as if he knows. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t know anything. He lifts his finger off my chin and shoves his hands in his pockets. He gives me a look that sends chills through my body. “I’m not someone you should mess with.”

He picks at his cuticles. “I’m asking…what’s your name?”

It was partially because I didn’t want to continue being stubborn to waste time, partially because his looks and words frightened me that made me tell him. “Fine. It’s Leah.”

“Well, Leah, I don’t know why you’re here but I assume you’re taking training. So you better catch up quickly, because I’m not going easy on you.”

“Yeah, William mentioned that to me well enough,” I say.

“Is that so,” Oliver says, then walks back to the front of the crowd. A few people stare at me, but I try to ignore it.

“As I was saying,” Oliver says. “Today is your first day of training, and we’re going to be learning to use a gun. Some of you may already know how.”

He gives us a pointed look. We all rush to the gun racks to pick a gun. A blonde-haired guy steps on my toe, and I cringe. I’m not sure if it was an accident. When I pick up the gun, I shudder. The gun is heavy, weighing me down. The nurses restricted violence, so I had never picked up a gun before. This feels so...wrong.

“War is a dangerous thing. So before you enter the army, you need to learn to protect yourself. And learn how to shoot a gun. Take a look at this.” Oliver clicks a bullet into the chamber of his gun and points it at a tiny ball sitting on a pole stand. He fires, and the bang rings in my ears even louder than ever. I stand on my tippy toes and look over someone’s shoulder to see that the ball had been hit off. It is on the ground, ashened and sizzling from the bullet.

“Your turn,” Oliver nods at us. I turn to my pole stand. I try to keep the gun upright, but my hands keep slipping due to the weight of the gun. I close my eyes and fire. When I open my eyes, I can see I am far from close. The bullet had gone into the wall. The blonde hair guy from earlier smirks at me, then fires, hitting the ball off the pole.

I take a look at everyone’s progress. Some have hit the very tip of the ball, some have dented the pole, but no one was doing as terrible as me. I sigh, then try again. It takes me many tries to even get close to the ball.

When training finally ends, it is as dark as ink outside. We head outside, and a girl blocks my way.

“Excuse me?” I mumble.

“Hey. I’m Wren,” the girl says, “You’re Leah, right?”

I nod.

She continues, “Not to be personal or anything, but I was wondering...why would a nurse girl like you be in the warrior compound?”

I hesitate. Should I trust her? My nurse instincts tell me no. But I am no longer a nurse. In the end, I decided to tell her a version of the truth. “I was on a break, and I came wandering. The guards took me in and forced me to become a warrior…” I say, sighing.

She nods, unconvinced. “Changing the subject…be careful of Jack…the blonde hair guy who picked on you.”

I frown. He’s mean, but beware of him…? “Why?”

Wren taps her chin. “Let’s just say…he’s William’s son.”

“William? But what position does he hold?” I ask.

“The leader of everyone in the training compound…he’s terrible.”

I nod. He seemed terrible.

“Also…can you help me with some training stuff? I saw you mastered that first task pretty well.”

“Of course.” She says, smiling. “Meet me at the backdoor gates of the compound tomorrow after training.”

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After I settle down in my apartment that William assigned me to, I lie on my bed, facing the ceiling. I had emptied my black bag and neatly placed each belonging in the apartment.

I was the only one who couldn’t hit the ball off, and thinking about that makes me want to go back to the nurse compound—for only a second. But then I remembered the endless amount of strict rules that my mother had set for me and my sister, and I knew that is something I needed to be free of.

As I think about my decisions, I admit the truth that I had been trying to avoid for the past hours. Warriors are not as I had imagined. They’re violent and brutal, and they fight because of their hunger for battles, not for the sake of defending their country. I was right about the battered buildings I saw when I had first come. They fight themselves.

I am not a nurse, not a warrior. Maybe I am something else. But what?

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Chapter 3

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The next day’s training was worse than I imagined. I thought after yesterday, it couldn’t get any harder, right? But I was completely wrong.

“Warriors-in-training, welcome to your second training session,” Oliver says. The nine of us are still groggy from sleep. We stare at him.

“And remember what we did yesterday? Yes, a handful of you mastered the skill, but others…” Oliver looks pointedly at me, “have failed quite miserably.”

I look down at my shoes, and I feel the stares of many students. Wren looks at me with a sympathetic look.

“Anyways, today we will be shooting a gun at a target. I expect every single one of you to at least hit one of the three inner rings.” He gives us an immense look. “However, this time I will be evaluating each of you individually,”

We all automatically walk toward the gun rack to retrieve our guns.

Oliver holds up his gun to eye view. He points the gun at the target and fires. The bullet goes through the middle circle. I inhale sharply but do not exhale.

“Leah...” Oliver says my name with pity, and anger bubbles inside me. “Why don’t you go first?”

Everyone stares at me, and Wren, who was standing beside me, says, “Good luck, Leah.”

I let out a big sigh and stood where my name was placed near the target. I pick up my gun—it somehow feels heavier than yesterday’s, and I shut my eyes. I close my finger around the trigger.

The silence I hear after the gunshot was strange. When I open both eyes, I’m shocked. The bullet had gone through the third ring of the target.

I press my lips together and back into the crowd.

“Good job, nurse girl,” Oliver nods at me respectfully. He writes something in his notebook. “Jack Finn, go next.”

Jack stands in front of the target. He fires at the target. The bang rings in my ears, but it no longer bothers me. When I take a peek at the target, I am not surprised, he hit the middle target. Well, not the middle target because it was shifted a little outwards on the line between the middle and second ring.

Jack groans. “I wasn’t ready!”

Oliver raises an eyebrow. “You seemed ready enough. I remind you, war doesn’t give you second chances.”

Jack growls, “You’ll pay. I’ll tell my father to make sure of it.”

We all watch in amusement as Jack sulkily walks back to his spot in the crowd. Oliver scribbles something in his notebook.

After a few people, it is Wren’s turn. She stands confidently in front of the target. She holds up her gun and shoots. Her bullet had gone through the second ring.

“Good job, Wren,” he looks down to write something in his notebook again, “Next…Sam Jackson.”

Sam stands on the spot, lifts his gun, and shoots. His bullet just missed the third ring of the target. Oliver writes something, and if he was mad, he hid his anger quite well.

“Sam Jackson, you and I will be having a chat after training,” Oliver says quietly.

Sam doesn’t say anything.

Oliver looks up from his notebook. “So almost everyone hit the target,” he paused. “I expect more from all of you. Training will start tomorrow at six as usual. You’re free to go. Sam, you and I will have a chat.”

I take a last glance and head to the back gates of the compound.

When I get there, Wren is already standing there. “Hey, Leah!”

“Wren!” I grin.

“You still need my help? You mastered that task in class pretty well,” she says, smiling. Her short blonde hair is tied back into a ponytail.

“That was pure luck,” I sigh.

Wren laughs. “Don’t worry, luck can often turn into skill. Let’s head to the training room.”

“Isn’t Oliver having a talk with Sam or something…?”

“I know another training room we can sneak into. Come,”

I jog to keep up with her.

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I slow down my pace as we arrive at the training room. Jack is standing there, punching the punching bag, and he stops mid-punch, gaping at us.

“What are you doing here, nurse girl?” Jack says, completely ignoring Wren’s presence.

I roll my eyes, “Isn’t it obvious? This is the training room.”

“Don’t start with me, nurse girl. You may have gotten the same ring as me, but I wasn’t prepared.” And with that, he storms out of the room.

“That jerk,” Wren says, shaking her head.

“Yeah…” I glare in the direction Jack left in.

“Anyways, would you like to start practicing?” Wren asks, walking to the gun racks and handing us both a gun.

“Yes, of course. I want to hit the first ring tomorrow. That’ll wipe the smile right off Jack’s face.” I say, grinning at the thought.

I point my gun at the target. My arms tremble from the weight, but I bite my cheek and lift the gun to shoulder height. I fire, but when I look up, I am disappointed. The bullet went through the wall.

Wren examines me with her dark ocean blue eyes. I pull the hem of my shirt down nervously.

“First off, your knees should be bent,” she taps her chin. “Hold your gun at eye height, too.”

I hold my gun at eye height and bend my knees slightly. I fire again. This time, the bullet had just missed the target by inches. I groan.

Wren and I spent the rest of the day practicing, and at the end of the day, I had improved a lot.

“I still can’t hit the middle target every time,” I say, frowning.

“You can’t expect to be perfect,” Wren points out. “But one pointer is to be confident in your actions.”

“Okay…” I say with a sigh.

When we are ready to leave the training room, Wren stops me again. “Leah…there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

I tilt my head slightly. “Yeah?”

“Well…you see…I’m not a warrior.”

I frown. “Of course you aren’t. We’re training to become a warrior.”

She shakes her head. “No, not like that. I’m a renegade. Renegades, a hidden group of people, have a very little population but are very strong. They are neither warriors nor nurses and are trying to stop the war.”

My head is spinning. “What? Are you saying there are more people out there?”

“Yes. And I’ve been sort of observing you…” Wren looks down awkwardly. “It seems as if you dislike the ways of both warriors and nurses, is that correct?”

I nod slowly. “Are you saying…asking…for me to become a renegade?”

Wren nods.

“I still don’t get it. Why are you here as a warrior, then?”

She purses her lips. “I’m a spy, and there was another mission for me to be on…so I need to be away temporarily. And we need a new spy, and that’s where you come in. That is if you accept the invite.”

I think about the offer. I did not belong with the nurses; I did not belong with the warriors. This was the answer to my question. I belong with the renegades.

“I’d do it,” I say. “But is there anything, in particular, I must do? Will I meet the other members? What is my goal as a spy?”

Wren chuckles, “Well, all you need to do right now is rest. A meeting at the gates will take place tomorrow at five am to answer your questions.”

“Sure, I could do that,” I say.

“Then you’re officially a renegade!” Wren says, grinning.

“What about you? Where will you be going?” I ask. I can’t survive without Wren, she helped me through so much.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be gone, but it will be quick. I’ll be back before you know it.”

I nod, but I don’t quite believe it.

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The next morning, I wake up to the sound of crickets outside. My body feels heavy and tired, and when I drag myself out of bed I think about how my father used to drag me out of bed. I shake the thought away.

I get dressed and head outside. The air is warm yet cold against my back. I shiver and run towards the back of the compound, where the gates are. When I get there, a crowd of people is already there. A tall girl comes out of the crowd and tips her head at me.

“Leah, is it?” She says, and I nod. “Glad to see you accepted our invitation.”

“My pleasure,” I say, but the words come out weirdly. I am shaking so hard that it is hard for my legs to stay steady.

“Nervous, aren’t you?” She says, smiling a little. “Don’t worry. First times are always scary.”

I force a smile, but it comes out as a grimace. It is exciting to become part of a group, but what if I don’t fit in? “You are…?”

“Carrisa. I’m one of the leaders of the renegades.” She says. “Sal and Lena are the other leaders.” She points to a boy with short brown hair laughing with a blonde-haired girl.

Carrisa continues. “There are few nurses here, their names are…”

She continues to introduce me to the members, but I cannot hear a thing. Never in my life had I thought that there were other people in the world—people who cared about stopping the war, people who crave peace, and people who aren’t nurses nor warriors.

“And that’s about it!” Carrisa smiles. “Come along, the meeting is about to start.”

“Attention, please,” Lena raises her hand for everyone to quiet down. “I’d like to acknowledge our new member-Leah Hollis.” Someone cheers and the whole crowd begins to clap. I awkwardly stand there, unaware of what I am supposed to do.

“Leah is going to be our new spy on the warriors-Wren has already transferred to her mission,” Carrisa says. Then she looks at me. “There’s been some recent evidence that the warriors have developed new and higher technology that could bomb the whole population-we need you to research that.”

I am stunned. A bomb that could wipe out the western people? That doesn’t sound very appealing.

Sal interrupts. “I think we should focus. On the point of this meeting?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Right.” Carrisa nods. “Anyhow...there seemed to be spies from the west coming to the warrior compounds-where the bombs are developing. So Lena evolved a plan of creating an army-for the renegades.”

Lena nods then pulls out a piece of paper from her pocket. “The circles on this map are where the other renegades are. We need to recruit all renegades together and form our own army to stop this war.”

“I’d like the ones who aren’t warriors to come here to train every week on this day,” Carrisa says.

A silence, supposedly quiet, rings through the alley. I’m not sure this is smart, creating an army to stop the war? That’s creating unneeded extra war. Although, this whole war seems unneeded-no one knows the reason behind it. Then I spot someone with dark black hair—Oliver. I try to restrain a gasp. Oliver? A renegade? I don’t have much time to be surprised, because the meeting has ended and everyone is leaving.

I head towards Sal-he is the only person who hasn’t left.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hey,” he says. “Leah.”

“Yeah...Sal, right?”

He nods.

“I was wondering. Is Oliver a spy for the renegades?”

Sal shakes his head. “No, he was originally just a renegade-but then William offered the position of a training teacher. No one can decline William’s offers.”

“Are you saying he’s not a warrior…? Because he acts like one.” I say, remembering the times he threatened me.

“Yes, he’s not a warrior. I would tell you why he acts like how he acts...but you have training soon.”

“Alright. Catch up with you later.” I wave and walk away.

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When I come back to my apartment, I am overwhelmed. Finding out about the renegades, getting my spy position, learning the warrior’s new weapon…

I can’t hold it anymore, so I jog to the compound to distract myself.

When I reach the compound, I take a deep breath and push the doors open. I take a quick turn in the hallway and enter the training room. I notice Wren is not in the room. I join the crowd silently. Jack speaks up.

“Yo, Leah,” He uses my name with distaste. “Looks like your little friend Wren called it quits. Too hard for her?”

I glare at him. “Maybe it’s because she’s sick of little flies swarming around her, like you and your minions.”

Jack and his friends laugh.

“Looks like the next stage of training might be too hard for a little girl like you,”

Jack shuts up as Oliver comes in to begin class.

“Today I’d like to overview your shooting. Then we’ll go over some other things. Linna, go first.”

A tall and buff girl with her hair dyed blue comes out of the crowd and stands in front of the target with her gun. The bullet goes through the second ring.

Oliver goes over seven more people, and it is the last person; it is my turn.

“Leah,” He calls, and I stride my way out of the crowd as confidently as possible. I try to remember what Wren told me. Knees bent gun at eye height. But most of all: Be confident.

I can do this, I tell myself as I pull the gun up. I believe in myself.

My arms are shaking and I steady them as much as possible. With as much confidence as possible, I pull the trigger.

But the bullet had gone through the second ring. It is good news, it is. But why do I feel dissatisfied?

I push my hand through my hair and set my gun down on the rack. Walking back to the crowd, I see Jack and his friend Karl smirking, for they had both gotten the first ring.

Oliver raises an eyebrow at us. “Some of you improved. The others, I’m not so sure. You might need to get practicing-a final test will occur very soon.

“Anyhow, for the next few days, we will be working with tankettes. However, this updated version has two differences. One, no one will be riding it. Two, it will be shooting bombs.”

We gape at him.

“You mean...we’re working with bombs?” someone says.

“Yes,” Oliver says. “Any other questions?”

Everyone is silent. I’m sure we all have questions, but no one dares to speak up.

“I thought so,” He gestures to the room connected to the training room. “Help yourself to a tank.”

We all rush to the room. I wait for others to trample in and push out their tankettes and then I stumble in to grab one.

It is heavy and I have difficulties carrying it, but I manage to push it back to my spot. Oliver holds his tankette, then drives the switch upwards.

“Watch,” he says, although we are all already watching. He aims the tank at the hole in the wall and pushes a button. A bomb shoots out of the chamber and flies directly into the hole. Just as I relax a little, an ear-splitting bang erupts from inside the hole. I try to hide my flinch.

“I’d like you to do the same,” he says, nodding at us.

We all rush to practice. My hands are shaking. A bomb, something so dangerous—even in war—is like a toy for warriors.

I hear other deafening explosions shrill through the room. Many had aimed the bomb into the wall. I pull my switch up with difficulties. It is not as easy as it looks. Hands sweaty, I aim as best as I can to the hole as I punch the button as hard as I can. I shut my eyes automatically, as I had always done previously.

A big bang rings through the room once again, but I have no time to cringe at the sound because an even louder blood-curdling scream follows it almost immediately. I nervously open my eyes, and the scene is not pretty.

Sam is lying in the area where I had aimed it at, and he has been shot in the hand. He lies on the white-tiled ground, unconscious. I open my mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. The violent imagery is stuck in my head. Although I have seen situations like this before in the hospital, I have never been so close. It takes a whole five seconds for reality to sink in, to realize who had hurt Sam.

Me.

It’s me.

I don’t have the energy to scream, to run to help or to apologize. Instead, I stand there. Sam lies there, unconscious of the pain. Everyone runs to his aid. But I, the culprit of this mess, just stand there, frozen, as if standing there will make it all better.

I run. I turn around and run out of the room, out of the compound, and into my apartment. I collapse onto my bed and scream. I scream into my pillow because if I screamed into the open, William’s guards would probably come and hunt me down. The pillow feels rough against my lips, but I don’t care, I do not.

I don’t know why I’m not grieving for Sam. Maybe it’s because I’m becoming more and more like a warrior. Maybe it’s because I’m starting to crave violence, just like the others. Maybe I’m becoming brutal and careless.

But no matter how much I wish, the tears or guilt never come. Instead, I feel anger towards the warriors for making us train like this. We are supposed to be learning how to protect others, how to protect our country, but instead, we are learning how to use a bomb.

The image of Sam screaming continues to play in my head—it won’t stop. I can’t keep being a warrior if it means that things like this might happen in the future. Who knows, maybe another time someone else would get hurt because of me. And I will become a monster because every single time I will not feel even an ounce of grief. I wonder how my mother and Caroline would react to this. How my father would react. Disappointed? Disgusted? Indignant?

I can still hear Sam screaming and crying in my head, so I take a walk to get things off my mind. I see Sam on the way. My body tells me to run, but I stop anyway. I glance at him through the glass. It seems as if they cannot see me—why would the windows see in but not out?

Sam is lying on a hospital bed with Oliver sitting beside him, glancing at his watch. The warrior hospital is very cheap, they don’t prioritize the injured. The hospital, from what I’ve heard, was only a temporary place for injured warriors. Once they have woken up or healed a bit, they would be sent to the nurses. But I’m pretty sure no warriors-in-training are supposed to head there.

Sam wakes up, and I press my ear against the glass so I can hear what they are saying.

“I think you should stand up,” Oliver says coldly.

“It hurts,” Sam cries.

“Of course it does,” Oliver says, his voice softening a bit. But only for a second. “But is this how you’re going to act when you’re in the army? If you were going to get a small injury, you’re going to sit on the floor crying? Wake up. This is a real war, not some kind of game.”

I flinch a little. A small injury? Sam had his entire hand burnt off.

Sam continues to sob. “I know. But it hurts so much. Please, let me go to the nurses.”

“Once you are to leave the warrior compound, you are not to come back. Is that what you want?” Oliver asks.

“It doesn’t matter when I’m half dying!” Sam yells.

“Don’t say I didn't warn you…” Oliver says quietly. I wonder why they don’t allow warriors-in-training like Sam to the nurses.

I wait for Oliver to walk out of the rusty hospital door and around the corner before I step into the building where Sam is lying. His tears have vanished almost completely.

“Hey,” I say.

He gives me a pained look. “Hi,”

It takes a lot of bravery to speak to someone even after they have hurt you. I guess Sam is more of a warrior than he thinks. Or, the definition of a real warrior.

“I’m sorry about…” I look at his hand.

He looks at it, winces, and says, “It’s fine. It wasn’t your fault, it was the warriors’ fault for making us use those stupid tanks.” He closes his eyes, probably from the pain.

Despite his kind words, I can see hatred in his eyes.

“I wasn’t hoping for you to forgive me, but I was just here to tell you something,”

He looks up at me. “What?”

I take a deep breath. “I know Oliver had it hard on you...you couldn’t shoot onto the target…” I immediately want to take back my words. “Sorry.”

Sam looks back down at his feet, “It’s really fine, Leah.”

“Well...I was not only here to say sorry about my terrible aim, but…” I pinch my lips together. “You’re brave, Sam. Like a brave warrior. Shooting a target doesn’t prove anything.”

He tries to smile at me, but it turns out as a grimace. “Even so, I can’t train like a warrior in this shape. I need to go to the nurses.”

I nod. “They usually don’t take in warriors-in-training, but I’m sure they’ll make an exception for you. Take a turn at the end of that alley and you will see a bus.”

Sam nods, and I turn around and walk out of the building without another word, fearing if I do say one other thing I might break down.

I hope he understood what I said.

The wind is a fresh breeze against my skin, and although it is somewhat cold, it feels nice and cool. I walk down the cracked pavement, passing building by building. I remember those days my father would bring me out to the battlefields. He told me that there will always be a bright side. In the dark, we have the stars, he once said to me. I soon notice a pattern: every whole and uninjured building there is, there are around twenty damaged ones. The cracked buildings stand out, they represent this broken world.

Suddenly, the wind is no longer fresh, it stings against my skin and makes my spine go cold. As I start to notice every flaw of this world, it no longer feels like home.

I turn around and run. I don’t stop until I am in my apartment. As I walk in, I flop onto my stiff and uncomfortable bed and look up to the gray ceiling.

The world is broken, so broken it might be unfixable. Even the renegades - their ways of thinking have altered into violence rather than focusing on the resolution. I sit up suddenly. I had completely forgotten my mission as a spy for the renegades. Although I might think differently from them, we have the same goal.

I creep out of the building. The night is starry; the sun has set. Although buildings are crushed and humans are damaged, we have bright sides to guide us through. I smile a little, I smile with a little hope. Maybe there is a chance after all. To mend this injured world.

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Chapter 4

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I take a trip to the compound—not too far away from the training one. This compound, from what I’ve heard, is a top-secret compound for the warriors’ weapons and plans. The difference is not too big from the distance, but the closer I get, the more differences I acknowledge. There are barely any windows, just one on the very top floor. To hide their weapon inventions. The outside is black, unlike the training compound, which is blue. The compound portrays a dark shadow. I don’t know why, but I shiver at the sight. Four guards stand beside the doorway, guarding the entrance completely. I cannot fight them all, let alone one.

I hide in the bushes beside the compound so the guards don’t see me. The bush scratches my legs and my arms, but it is the best hiding place I’ve got.

Slowly, I creep out of the bushes. It is a relief it is so dark and I am so small compared to the guards. I move forward a step. The guards remain unmoved. Slowly, I tilt my head up to the window at the very top. I might not be able to fight the guards, but I can use my brain to get in.

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I throw a delicate twig across from where I stand. It lands on the ground with a cracking sound. The guards immediately raise their guns. Two slowly make their way towards the sound. Good. Only two to deal with. I take out the pistol I had earlier placed in my pocket—a gun to temporarily shoot someone unconscious. It doesn’t hurt them—they just fall into a deep sleep where they will eventually wake up afterwards. It was given to me by the renegades. I couldn’t bear to shoot someone, especially not after what happened with Sam.

“Who’s there?” One of the guards shouts. “I know you’re there! Come out, and don’t make me force you.”

I aim carefully, pointing at the guards. As I raise the pistol, I can feel a considerably big difference from a gun. It is light, and I carry it without panic, the panic of knowing I could kill someone.

I shoot twice. Both guards fall to the ground, immediately unconscious.

I wince a little, then run toward the back of the compound. My feet carry me faster than I realize; I am running for my life. The night becomes darker by the second, making me blend in more and more. When I reach the backside of the compound, I see a metal door. A sudden temptation lures me to the door, but I resist it. William would never leave a door unguarded. This is a trick.

I examine the walls. The bricks are painted black, so black it shines, even in the dark night. The wall, however, was messily built. Bricks stick out everywhere. I smile a little. Perfect.

As quietly as possible, I set my foot on a lower brick and my hand on a higher one. I haul myself up the bricks step by step. When I am close to the building, I realize the window is in the front of the building, rather than the back. I look down, immediately regretting my choice. I am so high up I cannot breathe. The wind stings against my cheeks.

I quickly turn back up and heave myself onto the roof. The roof is slippery, it is dangerous. But as I look down, I don’t see what I had seen earlier. From this view, I can see the world from a different perspective. Maybe that is what we all need to see.

A shout interrupts my thoughts. The guards. They’re back.

“I swear I heard something!” one of the guards grumbles.

“Go get your ears checked out, Steve.” the other one snarls. “Stop wasting my time. My shift was over ages ago.”

My heart thumps. They could see me from here. They will see me. Nervously, I stumble backwards a little, making my shoe slip. I fall, but I catch the railing just in time. I open my mouth to scream, but I stifle it with a sob. I am scared.

“What was that?” says Steve. “Marcus, did you hear?”

“Yes…” Marcus says slowly.

I hear footsteps. “What’s this…?” Steve shouts. “Marcus! Come check this out!”

“Bodies,” Marcus hisses. “James and Phantom. They’re dead….?”

“It was most likely a distraction,” Steve grumbles. “They distracted us, then killed them.”

Smart, I think. But not quite.

I clench my teeth together and pull myself back onto the roof. I nearly slip multiple times, but I manage to get up.

I can feel the guards’ eyes glued onto the roof. I try my best to steady my heartbeat as I crouch low behind a chimney.

They begin to fire. The bangs of the gunshots are loud, but I am so panicked I cannot hear anything. As I inch out from behind the chimney, a sharp pain attacks my side. I choke back a scream, but it is not enough. They had heard me, and now I am done for. My face contorts. A bullet had grazed my side. I feel grateful, for the bullet had not gone into my side—but only for a minute. I immediately move my hands to my side, clutching it tightly. I groan, bending forward so the aching pain mends a little.

The gunshots continue closer this time. I act fast, drawing my pistol. My side throbs and the pain is so great I need to take a break. I duck back behind the chimney again, taking a few deep breaths. I swallow the air gulp by gulp until my lungs are sore. Then, cautiously, I hold up my pistol and aim it at the guards. I can see them, but they cannot see me. I point my pistol at one guards’ head and fire, then the other immediately. They drop to the ground. I remind myself they are only unconscious; they are not dead.

As soon as all the guards are down, I act quickly. Someone could’ve heard that. I slip my foot onto a brick sticking out of the front of the building where the window is close by. Slowly, I place my leg lower so I can place my hand on a brick. Pain shoots through my side. Once I am only supported by the bricks, I smash the window with the back of the pistol. The pieces scatter onto my hand, pricking into my skin a little, but it is nothing compared to the wound on my side. I get in, head first, and pull my legs in. When I stand upright, I finally get a view of what the compound looks like.

It is a thin room, dimmed by blue light. The room has many drawers attached to the walls. Each one has a label—of a type of weapon. I slide my fingertips along the drawers with my hand on my side as I walk down the thin hallway.

When I meet at the very end of the hallway, there is an elevator. I click the button and the elevator’s glass doors open up. Inside is an elevator that looks broken—it seems like no one has used the elevator for years. But I know that isn’t possible. How would warriors get all their weapons if the elevator was broken?

I cautiously step into the elevator. The floorboards of the elevator creak, making me elbow myself in my side—on my wound. I moan in pain, grabbing the elevator bars for support. When I release my hand, the metal bar is covered with a dark red colour.

The compound has ten floors, with a button for each of the floors. The buttons look as if they are moulding—each button dirtier than the other. I pause, my fingers hovering over the buttons. Where would they most likely place their newest and most precious invention? Normally it would be the top floor—but there is a window. No one would be so foolish as to hide their inventions near a window. Or, there wouldn’t be a window in the first place. I eye the elevator walls. In the corner of the elevator is a camera. I flinch. I raise my pistol and fire at the camera. The glass pane breaks, and the camera is permanently broken. I smile a little, but it vanishes immediately. What if they had already seen me?

I hurriedly slam my thumb against the ninth-floor button.

The elevator stops abruptly. The glass doors slide open and I am in another thin hallway, very much like the top floor. I peek out before stepping into the hallway. Similar to the top floor, there are many drawers attached to the walls, with labels on each drawer. A darker blue light dims the hallway. The light is so dim, I can barely see where I’m going.

At the very end of the hallway is a dusty metal safe. This must be it. I think. Their new invention. The weapon that can wipe out a whole population.

My thoughts stop immediately as I remember the cameras. They’re watching. I look up to see three video cameras. I hold up my pistol and fire. But the glass does not break. Frustrated, I fire again and again. All the bullets bounce back to the ground.

They are most likely sending people over right now, so I need to open this safe. It’s stuck on the wall and has a four-digit combination lock, and I try a few likely passwords but none work. I try to peel it away from the wall, but it’s stiffly attached. I glance around me. I try to open the drawers to locate a weapon, but a touch ID seems to be the way to open the drawers.

I read one of the descriptions that labelled “Strong knife”. I draw my pistol and fire at the drawer. The bullet creates a hole in the metal drawer. I reach in the hole and something sharp cuts me on the finger. I flinch, grasping to find the handle of the knife. It’s a pocket knife.

The knife is small but strong. I slide my fingers along the blade of the knife. It is sturdier than any knife I had ever touched. I grip my hands on the knife and walk towards the safe. I wedge the knife between the wall and the safe and pull as hard as I can. The knife cracks in half, but all I did was peel off a few bits of paint from the wall. I throw the broken knife in frustration, although there’s not much frustration in the movement due to my wound.

I hear a sound, and immediately try to find a place to hide. But there is no place to hide. This hallway is thin, and drawers are attached to the walls, leaving me almost no space to move around.

“Stop wasting my time on sounds that aren’t even existent, Steve,” a voice says. I’m almost completely sure that is Marcus’ voice.

“Shush. This time I’m positive,” says Steve.

Marcus groans, “The person who shot James and Phantom are long gone by now. I don’t even know why I’m being forced to walk around with you, trying to find non-existent sounds.”

“Yes, the person who shot James and Phantom is probably gone...but what about the person who shot us?” Steve says, and I flinch. They know that I’m still in the compound. I have to get out of here fast.

I hide against the drawers, the shadows hiding me. I see Marcus and Steve walk closer and closer.

I have no choice but to shoot them. That is if I can aim probably. The minute I raise my pistol my wound hurts. But I practice a couple of times and I manage to lift it without too much difficulty.

When the guards are only inches away from me, I take a deep breath and jump out of my hiding spot, aiming at both their heads.

They stumble a little, and I use the time to aim and fire. But nothing happens. I click the trigger multiple times, dread pouring over me. How could I have no more bullets?

Right. I had wasted it on the camera.

With my eye focused on the guards, I try to dash to the elevator, but the guards are too quick. They haul me up, then point their guns to my head.

“Don’t try to run away,” Marcus snarls. He looks old, older than the other guards. The wrinkles on his face stand out more than ever.

“Yeah, or we’ll shoot,” Steve grunts a little, obviously tired.

I turn around to face the guards.

“Who are you?” Marcus asks, his eyes narrowing.

I stay silent. They can’t know I’m a nurse. William will kill me, knowing I’m messing around. Their grips tighten.

“I said, who are you?!” Marcus nearly bellows.

I have to make up a lie, or they’ll kill me.

“I’m a warrior-in-training. Oliver sent me here to get some weapons for training,” I say, regretting it a second after. Normal warriors sometimes aren’t allowed to enter, let alone a warrior-in-training like me.

They take their guns off my head, but their grips do not loosen.

“We’d better ask Oliver to be sure,” Steve says, smirking a little.

My heart pounds with agitation. I need to act fast—Oliver might be on the same team as the renegades, but he definitely isn’t on the same team as me.

The two guards haul me into the elevator. I try to think of an escape plan, but my mind is buzzing and I cannot think straight.

“Let’s go see Oliver, shall we?” Marcus grins. I want to wipe that smile off his face, but my side is in too much pain for me to want to do anything. “What’s your name?”

“Why should I tell you?” I say, giving him a smug look.

“So that’s how it is,” Marcus says, his face red and filled with anger.

The elevator doors open, and I am half walking, half being carried by the guards all the way back to the compound.

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Chapter 5

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Oliver’s apartment is on the very top floor of the building across from mine. The elevator moves so fast I can’t breathe, and when it comes to a stop I nearly topple over.

Steve and Marcus push me to Oliver’s apartment, then pound on the metal door.

Oliver opens the door, and he does not seem to be sleeping like the other warriors, but in fact very awake.

“What is it?” Oliver snaps.

“Found this little girl in the Weapons Compound—she says you sent her,” Steve says to Oliver.

Oliver raises an eyebrow, “Really.”

I hold my breath. If Oliver decided to tell the truth...I’m dead.

“Get to the point, Oliver.” Marcus snaps, “Just tell us if her story is true and whether we should take her to William or not.”

I feel Oliver staring at me, so I look down at my feet.

“Yes. I sent her. Is there a problem with that?” Oliver glares at the guards. My head jerks up when I hear the response. I didn’t think that Oliver would go with my story.

“And since when,” Steve says, his face inches away from Oliver’s, “Was anyone other than William and Mary allowed in the weapons lab?”

Mary, I assume, was working alongside William as a warrior leader.

“If you haven’t noticed,” Oliver says coldly. “I was permitted to enter the lab.”

“William gave you permission?” Marcus jeers “Likely story, should we go and ask him?”

“I’m afraid you have mistaken yourself,” Oliver says calmly. “Mary gave me permission on her behalf.”

“Why would Mary permit you? Mary seldom permits anyone to enter the weapons lab,” Marcus snarls.

“I think you have forgotten something,” Oliver says, frowning mockingly. “Who am I? I’m Mary’s nephew. So get your face out of my sight before I change my mind about letting you go.”

Marcus’s eyes widen. “Of course,” he says quietly. “And I suppose you’ll take care of her.” He jerks toward my direction, then leaves with Steve without another word.

I stand with my eyes glued to the direction where Marcus and Steve had left, not daring to face Oliver.

“Hey,” he says, but I stay silent.

“Come,” he says. “I have something to show you.”

He walks into his house, and I follow him, shutting the door behind me. His house is organized the same way I had expected—bland and simple. The walls are painted white but you can barely make out the colour due to the dirty gray covering all over it.

“You’re hurt,” he says, looking at my wound.

“It’s just a graze.”

Oliver shakes his head. “What were you thinking?”

“I was on the mission.”

“Ah,” He pauses. “As a renegade.”

“Yeah,” I say. “But I didn’t succeed. The guards caught me before I could find it.”

He nods, then lowers his volume into almost a whisper. “Look, I know where the secret weapon is stored,”

“In the safe, I know.”

He shakes his head. “That one’s a trick, they wouldn’t make it too easy.”

I tilt my head. “Then where?”

“I can’t say now,” he says, glancing around the room as if it were dangerous to be in his own house. “I’ll tell you sometime later.”

I frown. “What?”

“Forget it for now,” says Oliver. “Here, take a seat.”

I sit on one of the wooden chairs in the kitchen. Oliver enters another room, then comes back with some alcohol. “Wash out your wound first,”

I walk toward his sink, which the tap has rusted into a dirty gray. I open the tap and cup some water into my hand, then pouring it onto my side. I feel a rush of coolness in my wound, and the water drenches my shirt

Oliver pours the alcohol onto a dirty cloth and wipes it on my wound. It stings, and I flinch a little. He rips off an edge of his shirt and wraps it around my wound.

He drops the alcohol and the cloth, then sits beside me.

“So,” I say.

He nods at me.

“Do you agree with the renegades?” I ask nervously, fidgeting with the corner of my shirt.

“What do you mean?” He eyes me.

“Well, they want to start a war to end a war, right?”

“Oh.” He says in a disappointed tone as if he didn’t want to talk about that. “I’ve known Sal, Carrisa and Lena since I was young. They were the pieces of my puzzle.”

I cringe, wanting to take back what I said. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“No, it’s true I disagree with them.”

I give him a surprised look. “Really?”

He nods slightly. “Soon, we began to grow apart. They began to have goals, to stop this war, and to become the leader of a renegade group. But I was nothing; I had no goal and no life.

“It was true that at the beginning we had the same goal, but as time passed they began to alter. They focused on defeating the war rather than stopping it. However, I think it’s only their perspective that has changed over time due to the influence.”

“Yeah…” I say. “It wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“It’s alright,” he says, leaning back into his chair. “I can mention it to them.”

I shift uncomfortably in my chair, thinking of a way to change the subject.

“I see you haven’t really tidied your apartment,” I say, regretting my words almost immediately.

He shrugs, unangered, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “I never really bothered to.”

He gives me a look that signals it’s the end of the conversation, then motions me to follow him. I do.

My shoes squeak with each step against the surprisingly clean floor, judging the apartment.

Oliver heads to his balcony, and a rope dangles from a pipe on the top edge of the balcony. Just like the one I have, I think. Or, had.

He grabs the rope and pulls up, then swinging himself onto the roof of the apartment. I do the same, struggling a little more. The rope skims my fingers and I pull up, hitting my elbow against my side. I groan a little, and Oliver helps me up.

The roof is similar to the one I had sat on many times in the nurse area. I relax as the moon shines onto the roof. I hadn’t realized how tired I was until now. I check my watch. It’s two in the morning. I wonder if Oliver always stays up this late.

“Why’d you lie for me?” I blurt out, breaking the momentum of silence. “You’ve never been fond of me.”

Oliver sighs a little. “Did you think it would be reasonable for a warrior to be nice to a little girl from the nurses, Leah?”

I frown. He couldn’t be acting this whole time.

“It’s not like I was particularly nice to anyone,” he says, shrugging.

“Is Mary your aunt?” I say, confirming he wasn’t lying from earlier.

“Yeah,” he nods. “But she loathes me.”

“She didn’t give you permission, did she?” I ask.

“You figured that one out,” says Oliver, smiling a little. That’s the first time I’ve seen him smile.

“And about Sam…”

“Again, I couldn’t be too nice,” He sighs a little. “I know where the cameras are hidden. William’s watching. Me, in specific.”

“Why?”

“He’s been getting suspicious. I’ve been running to too many renegade meetings.”

“You know, I used to hang out on the roof all the time,” I say, glancing up at the sky. “It made me feel relaxed and helped me forget about the rest of the world and my problems. But I eventually faced reality. I guess it’s nice to forget them once in a while. But now I’m so busy I can’t think about it even if I wanted to.”

He nods slowly. “It was like that for me, too. My parents died when I was young. I guess that’s why I’m not so nice.”

I pause and turn my head to look at him. He didn’t seem like the person who liked to be pitied. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says, but the look on his face tells me it’s not. “I try not to overthink it.”

I nod. “You know, people like you are the bravest. Even though you’ve gone through a lot, you’re still brave enough to grit your teeth and keep on going.”

He chuckles. “Thanks.”

Even though he’s acting nonchalant, I can see a tiny smile hidden in his eyes. I hope he feels better after what I’ve told him.

“You know, my father passed away not too long ago as well,” I say, biting my lip. It’s still hard to talk about it, but Oliver seems to be someone who would understand. “He was shot by a warrior from the West. We had a close bond. And I’m still having difficulties getting over it because his death was partially my fault.”

Oliver looks into the dark sky. “Life harms every one of us. The only difference between people is that some keep on going and others give up. I predict your father would’ve wanted you to keep going.”

“You’re right.” I let out a shaky breath.

“Sometimes, we need to let loved ones go. If you never let them go, you’ll never forget about the situation, and that could drag you down,” Oliver continues. “But I’m not saying forget them, I’m telling you to forget the situation. After all, to this day, I still remember my parents.” He laughs out loud as if trying to distract himself from crying.

“It’s difficult,” I say, tears welling up in my eyes, then streaming down my cheeks and dripping onto my lap. “The situation...it was partially my fault. And my mother blames me for it.”

“You shouldn’t be blamed for something you can’t control. War is dangerous, people from both the west and the east die from it every day. No one can control it.”

I bob my head but I know his words won’t make a difference. Once someone is damaged, it is hard to repair.

“Enough about me. If it helps…” I hesitate before saying it aloud. “You can talk to me about your parents.” I wipe my cheeks furiously.

He sighs. “I’ve been quiet all this time, and I really should let it out to someone. But it’s hard.”

Oliver suddenly looks like a little boy again, his shoulders hunched and trembling. I give him a look. Be strong, I tell him with my eyes.

And the little boy is gone, and he is Oliver again, the strict and cold instructor.

“You can let it all out to me.” I let out a breath, and the air is so cold it transforms into smoke.

He relaxes a little bit. “Well.” He shakes, his hands trembling against the building ceiling, and I pretend I don’t see it.

I don’t prompt him—I know the terrible feeling of being ushered to go quicker.

“When I was young, war was bad at that time, worse than now, much worse. Many Westerners came to invade the warriors from time to time.

“It was a night at the time. I was sitting at my desk—I couldn’t sleep. But then a raid occurred, and this wasn’t just any normal invasion. It was a raid. They didn’t go bombing our house, but they crept in quietly, not making a sound. But I heard them, so I hid beneath everything in my closet. They didn’t find me, but they took my parents and my younger sister, Jamie. They were gone, taken away from me.

“I ran. I fled, like a coward, to William, who took me in. And...I guess you could finish the rest of the story.”

He sighs, his eyes glossy with something I’ve never seen before. Hope. “Sometimes, I imagine they’re still out there.” He laughs it off. “But reality sinks in quickly.”

I shake my head. “How do you know they’re dead? What if they’re alive?”

Oliver only sighs. “I know what invaders from the West do. They never just...kidnap.”

I want to argue, but Oliver knows them better than me. He’s been through a lot, much more than me. My story is so pathetic compared to his.

“You might think you’re in the darkness,” I say, and he sighs for the millionth time. “Maybe you are. But in the darkness, there are stars. Stars to guide you through life and help you make it to the light.” They were my father’s words. It feels weird on my tongue, to say something my father would say to me, but I know he would want me to.

I hope he’s proud of me.

A warm silence fills the night, and Oliver finally breaks his frown a little. “Thank you.” He clears his throat. “That helped.”

I smile.

“Well, thanks for everything,” I say. “I should probably get going. And about the renegades…”

Oliver pinches his lips together. “I’ll tell them to arrange a private meeting with us tomorrow at night.”

“Sounds good,” I say, but really, it doesn’t. Having to meet them feels like a nervous wreck.

“Want me to bring you home?” he asks.

“No, I’ll be fine,” I say.

“Alright,” He forces a small grin.

He helps me down the rope once again, and I exit his apartment, exit the building, and run through the night back to my apartment.

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Chapter 6

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I wake up with soreness aching all over my body, despite the fact my wound is only on my side. Sitting up, I groan. The pain is worse.

I get up, trying to ignore it, and change into some black clothes. The shirt is too big and the pants are too small, but it’s all I’ve got.

I walk out of my apartment and out the front door, thinking about what had happened last night. Oliver, out of the least people I had expected, was the one I could relate to the most.

When I reach the compound, I am the first one there. I pick up the gun. It feels so much more familiar, after what happened yesterday. Aiming at a new target, I fire. The sound seems bland, unsharp and unpainful. They look up to see the bullet had gone through the first ring. It might’ve been a coincidence, but it puts a smile on my face.

When everyone starts filing in, I notice Sam’s absence. I feel a lump in my throat. Jack’s presence makes the lump disappear with anger replacing it. The sneer on his face makes anger build up inside me.

Oliver comes in, and everyone quiets down. I nervously fiddle with my hands, picking at my cuticles. After what happened yesterday, staying in the same room makes me a nervous wreck.

He glances at me briefly but looks at me the same way he would any day. I relax a little, my poster staggering.

Someone holds up a hand. “Where’s Sam?”

“What happened to Sam is none of your concern,” Oliver says, his eyes dangerous.

“It might not be ours, but it should be Leah’s…” Jack jeers. “But it doesn’t seem like she cares.”

I know better than to lunge towards him. “You’re the one talking.”

He laughs. “Was I the one who shot Sam?”

I take a deep breath, trying to hold in the anger. I’m about to talk back when Oliver interrupts us.

“Careful, or I’ll send you two to William.”

I guess he’s just that mean.

“Did you get too many hits in the head?” Jack laughs, his laugh ugly and loud. “I’m the son of William.”

“I know,” Oliver says quietly. “Doesn’t seem like you’re on the good side of him lately, though? Now if you’d be quiet, I could maybe begin the class.”

Jack clamps his mouth shut.

“Anyway,” Oliver says, pacing across the room and back. “Today we’ll be testing your strength.” He nods towards the punching bag beside him. “On this bag, there’s a screen that detects your degree of strength out of a hundred.”

The black punching bag sways side by side as if taunting us. I’m not sure I enjoy them.

“Watch closely at my position. I’m not doing it twice.”

Oliver bends his knees slightly, lowering himself to the same height as the punch bag. His fists at his face, he brings one to the punching bag, hitting it with a thump. I glance at the screen. Eighty-nine.

“Line up. You’ll be doing this individually.”

Nervously, I step in line, behind a redhead girl with freckles and in front of a boy with a worried look on his face. I straighten my face immediately, wondering if that was what was plastered on my face the entire time.

Jack, who had squirmed himself into the first person, slams his fist into the punching bag. I hear a crack sound, and although it’s my enemy, I cringe at the sound. Craning my neck, I see that the screen reveals a measly forty. I cover up my laugh with a cough. Oliver just leans against the wall, obviously bored.

Jack’s face turns red, and he walks to the back of the line silently. I am surprised, judging Jack’s expected reaction.

Next in line is a girl named Lisa. She cracks her knuckles and clenches her hands into fists. Aiming at the center of the bag, she hauls her hand toward it. A thump. The screen reveals sixty-four. I smile a little. Looks like Jack is gonna be last in line. A few other people go, and before I know it, it’s my turn. By now, I know the overall positioning and levelling.

Standing in front of the punching bag, I ignore Oliver’s stare. Focusing on the bag, I hold my hands into fists, raising them head level like the others had done. When my fists slam into the punching bag, I know I’ve done something wrong. A pain shoots through my side, but I try to ignore it. My fist had gone in sideways, making my hand twist weirdly. The punch bag barely moves an inch. Trying not to panic, I look at the screen. I panic.

The numbers glow on the screen brightly blue as if mocking my score. Fifteen. My face is hot, and I can feel tears in the back of my eyes. I messed up. I know it’s stupid to have the urge to cry, I know it’s immature. But I had messed up. I laughed at Jack, but now it’s my turn to be laughed at. I swear I hear someone chuckling.

“Try to angle better next time,” Oliver nods at me, without the pity from before but more of a respectful tone. I smile a little bit, so small no one can tell.

The rest go, and I am too busy thinking about what I had done wrong to pay attention. When I leave the compound, I decide to head to the training room to practice my punches. When I enter, the light is bright, unlike the usual lighting, which is dim and a light blue shade.

I frown. Suddenly, my heart drops a bit. I remember what Oliver had said to me, I know where the cameras are hidden. I shiver. I hope William hadn’t seen Wren and I yell at Jack the other day. He and his son might be on bad terms, but again, he and I aren’t exactly on good terms.

Glancing at the security cameras, I try to not make any suspicious actions. As calmly as I can, I walk towards the punching bag. Beside it is yet another screen connected by a cable. Slowly, I bend my knees and hold my fists upright again. Pretending the punching bag is Jack, I angle an uppercut punch on the bag. My fist slams into the bag, making it sting and throb at the same time. But when I glance at the screen, I smile a bit. Forty-five. I’ve beaten Jack.

For the next hour, I practice my punches. By the end, I’ve mastered the uppercut and lower cut punches, with a high score of seventy. Smiling, I leave the training compound and go to my apartment. The breeze feels nice against my warm cheeks, especially after the training. I think of my schedule for today. With the knowledge that it’s all clear, I rest my hand on the handle, ready to pull open the door. But something in my mind pops up. The meeting with the renegades. Today, they might ask me about my mission. Even though it’s focused on changing their perspective, they still might ask. Thinking of yesterday’s failure, I remember what Oliver said last night. I know where the secret weapon is located.

Sighing, I let go of the handle and turn towards Oliver’s apartment with dread in my stomach. Will he tell me where it is? Or will he cut me off, not remembering whatever had happened yesterday? Dread meets at the bottom of my stomach. When I enter the elevator, I jab my finger against the top floor once again. The elevator zooms upwards, making my ears plugged. I swallow painfully as the elevator comes to a stop, and slowly step out of the elevator. I knock on Oliver’s door. He comes out, eyes bloodshot and hair all messy. I cringe, almost regretting my decision to come over. But it’s too late now.

“Hi, Oliver. What happened?” I gulp.

He stays silent.

“Can I come in? I need you to do me a favour.” I frown. What’s wrong with him?

“Sure,” He simply says.

I walk into his apartment—it’s the same as yesterday night. Well, to be truthful, he doesn’t have time to clean. Doing training with us and all that.

“What did you come here for?” Oliver snaps, and I jump.

“To talk about renegades?” I say, suddenly unsure of myself.

“Renegades? You are talking nonsense, Leah,” Oliver glares, “Did that one punch make your head unclear?”

I am startled by his reaction. Oliver knows about the renegades, so what is he talking about? But then I realize the only possible truth: there are cameras hidden inside Oliver’s apartment, so I better play along with him, or the secret society of renegades will be discovered.

“Erm, sorry...I might have slept for too long last night,” I murmur.

“And you came to me for it? I’m your instructor, Leah,” Oliver sneers. But then I see it. It’s quick, but I see it. He winks a little.

“Sorry, Oliver. I must've dreamed about it last night, and I didn’t know what that was...so I came to you to explain. I guess if it’s all a dream, I’ll leave,” I lie.

He raises an eyebrow, but nods and motions to the door to let me leave.

“Thank you, Oliver,” I say awkwardly as I walk out of the room.

As I go down the elevator, I wonder why there would be cameras in Oliver’s apartment. If so, that means William is getting suspicious of Oliver—why else would he put security cameras there? But which specific movement made William suspicious?

I sigh and head back to my apartment—the only place where I feel safe. I glance out the window in my little apartment, no longer seeing the beauty in warriors, instead only their violence of wars. Do the warriors want the war between the East and the West to end? Do they want to protect the citizens—nurses—of their world? Or do they do it for long-lasting violence, for their cravings for war? Rain begins to drizzle down. The sun has already set; it’s so dark already. I guess we don’t notice the beauty of nature when we’re so embedded in war.

I am early for the meeting. I lean against the gate of the alley, trying to stay nonchalant. I’m staring into space when I see a hand wave in front of me.

“Earth to you,” Lena says. “We’re all here,”

I shake my head to get myself back to reality. In front of me stands Carrisa, Lena, Sal and Oliver. “Right, sorry.”

“Okay, good.” Carrisa nods. “We’re all gathered here because our friend Oliver here says we’re not stopping the war the right way.” She looks at him expectantly for his statement.

“You’re all trying to stop the war with war, am I correct?” Oliver says. Carissa opens her mouth to interrupt, but he holds up his hand to stop her. “However, in my opinion, I think we should be stopping war, not creating more war.”

Sal pauses. “Do you have a better way to handle it?”

“I’m not completely sure yet, but one thing I know is that fighting back will only make it worse.”

The three renegades stay silent. Then Carissa breaks the silence. “I know that. But we’re down to no other choice until you come up with a plan.”

Oliver nods. “Sounds fair enough.”

“Trust me, it’s harder than it seems,” Lena says with a critical look.

My mouth, which happens to be glued together, will not open.

We split up, and I walk back to my apartment in silence. By the time I am home, it is dark and I am tired.

I drift to sleep as the rain pounders on my window.

I awake to a rustling noise outside of my window. I groggily sit up and check my watch. It is two in the morning. I fidget at my wound, which has healed surprisingly quickly. It’s down to a horribly looking scar, but the pain is recognizably smaller. Yawning, I pull myself out of my bed and peer out the window. There is nothing but the bush and the dark sky above. I shake my head. Was the sound an illusion? I walk back to my bed and lie down. Once I am awake, I cannot fall back asleep. The rustling noise repeats. I perk my head up. That cannot be fake. I open a drawer and grab a pistol gun, then cautiously draw the window open and slip out. It is a relief I am on the first floor of the twelve story apartment. I creep to the opposite side of the bush, my heart thumping. A girl about my age is kneeling there, her short black hair blending into the dark. I then notice her dark blue suit. A western spy. I walk up in front of her to trap her in the wall corner. She opens her mouth to scream, but I cover her mouth just in time.

“Who are you?” she croaks.

“I could say the same for you,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Listen, little western spy. Tell me why you’re here or I’ll shoot.” But I wouldn’t because of what happened to Sam. I don’t press the gun to her forehead, nor do I raise it up. The thought of doing so makes my stomach lurch.

“D-don’t kill me,” she stutters. “It’s the western government you want to kill.” I notice her hand reaching towards her pocket to where her pistol is. I swiftly grab it out of her pocket and tuck it into mine. The gun feels heavy in my pocket, as if accusing me of a crime.

“Tell. I don’t care if you were forced here, tell me why they’re sending you here.”

“It’s not the warriors they’re wanting to a-attack,” she shivers. “It’s the nurses.”

I frown. The nurses? There’s no way they could. The nurses have such secure walls they couldn’t break in even with the army of the world. That is unless they have the new weapon. The bomb that could kill a whole population.

That’s it.

“Go on,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her.

“Well, the previous spies remark they’ve seen the warriors develop a new weapon that could kill a whole city,” she says, her throat dry. She looks tired. Guilt twists inside my stomach. I shouldn’t be doing this to her, I shouldn’t be forcing such a young girl to tell me things she didn’t want to do. “They want that for their backup plan,” She continues.

“And what would be their first plan?”

“Well, according to the Western warriors, the nurses have a potion that they crave. It was Western-developed in the beginning but was stolen by the nurses.

“That was the main reason the war began. From what I read in my books of history, there were no Warriors in those days. It was just one group of Eastern people.

“But part of the group didn’t want to hide, they wanted to fight back. They wanted to win this war. So they formed a group of Warriors. The nurses decided to take responsibility for healing them.

“The Westerners want to negotiate with the nurses to take back what they’ve stolen. That is unless they disagree.”

I take a step back, my heart hammering, I try to take in what she had said. The nurses have something that belongs to the Westerns. So that’s the war’s reason. Anger nearly explodes in me, but I hold it back. This is a story told from the perspective of a Western. So it can’t be completely true.

“How can I believe you?” I ask, my voice cramping.

“Well, I’m all you’ve got, so…” She shrugs a little, but it looks more like a restrained struggle when she’s so tired.

I stare at her for a few seconds, but she only stares back. I look away. “Fine. You win. But I’m not letting you go.”

She frowns. “What?” Her scared expression returns onto her face.

I glare at her. “I’m not falling for that again,”

I don’t want to seem mean, but being too nice doesn’t help, either. I grab her by her arm. “You’re coming with me.”

I pause at the crossway of the alley outside of my apartment. Not wanting to hesitate too long, I stride towards Oliver’s apartment building. The stars and moon have not fallen; the night is as dark as coal. I stumble along with the darkness.

“W-where are you taking me?” The girl asks, not bothering to hide how scared she is.

I press the top floor in the elevator and haul her inside.

When we get to Oliver’s apartment, I knock, and like yesterday, his apartment is messy.

“Oliver, found this little western spy lingering around the warriors’ compound,” I report.

He eyes the girl suspiciously, “A little Western spy, huh.”

The girl nods, shaking her head up and down as quickly as she could. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know! I already told the girl grabbing me right now, but I don’t mind telling it again! Just let me live, please!”

“Hmm,” Oliver examines her.“What’s your name?”

“My name is Kara—Kara Burns,” She stutters, “I-I’m from the west.”

“Ah, yes. What’s your mission here, Kara?” Oliver interrogates.

“M-my mission is to steal the bomb that can wipe out an entire population! Well, technically that’s the backup plan for the Westerns. The main mission is to steal a potion from the nurses—that’s what we’re using the bomb on! According to the Western Warriors, the potion was originally made in the West.”

“And why would you steal a potion from the nurses? As far as I’m concerned, nurses will never steal anything—especially not something that the Westerns want,” Oliver says.

“That part I don’t know about, but I’m telling the truth! I promise!” Kara is practically screaming.

I raise an eyebrow, “Okay. Let’s say your story is true. Why would the Westerns send a little girl like you?”

“I’m not sure either,” She shakes her head, her short black ponytail bobbing from one side to another.

I pause. Maybe that’s the point, maybe they want to make us suspicious. But why? “Alright, but either way we can’t send you back.”

She sighs roughly. She might be shorter than me, but she looks tough. “I’m going back whether you like it or not.”

I look at Oliver. He nods. “We can let you go home, but we’ll be taking you there.”

I nod. “Send a message to William’s guards.”

Kara takes the elevator down, her blonde hair swaying behind her as the elevator doors are closed. I watch her through the glass window as she heads towards William’s office and leaves in a black car.

I turn back to Oliver. “We’ve got a plan, haven’t we?” I lower my voice so the security cameras in his room—if there are any—can’t hear us.

“Not quite, but at least we’ve got the base.” He grins a little.

I smile and wave goodbye, stepping back into the elevator. I yawn a little, then check my watch. Only 2:45. I slam my hand against the ground floor clumsily, then crouch as the elevator accelerates back down.

When the doors open, I walk slowly back to my apartment, afraid if I run I might trip.

We’ve got a plan. An idea, at least. The reason behind this long-lasting war.

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I have only touched my pillow for a few hours when I wake up for the second time, but this time not from the rustling of the bushes but the knock of my door. I sit up and slip on a jacket, my face groggy from lack of sleep. I twist the doorknob to see Jack at the door. The sun is already rising—it’s early in the morning.

“What do you want?” I ask, slightly annoyed.

He smiles. My stomach drops with fear. Jack’s smiles don’t mean good.

“Spit it out,” I say, trying to hide my fear.

“Let’s put it in this way,” he says. “Tell me what I need to know about this renegade business.”

I freeze. How did he know about the renegades? And why, out of all people, would he ask me about it? The answer comes immediately. I’ve been too careless, and he probably heard me talking about it.

I lean against my door frame and plaster a confused expression over my face. “What are you talking about? I don’t have all day. Speak English.”

Jack furrows his brows. “You see, that’s when I know you’re lying. Stop hiding it. I heard your meeting with the renegades. I think William might want to hear about this.”

I bite the inside of my cheek from screaming in panic. “What?”

“Stop pretending or I’m going to see him right now.”

“Fine. It’s true.” I let out an exasperated sigh. What should I do? The renegades will be killed if he tells William; I will be killed. “Can you keep it a secret?” I know it’s a dumb thing to say to him, looking at his past attitudes, but I’m out of ideas.

He laughs. “Listen, triple agent. I’m usually not this nice, but today I feel nice, so I’m going to offer a deal to you.”

I feel a wave of relief, but not all of the weight goes away. Jack’s deals cannot be fair.

“I keep it a secret to save you, but you’re going to have to turn in your little renegade friends. Including Oliver.” He sneers. “But if you don’t accept this offer, I’m going to turn in all of you. But I’ll make sure to spotlight you.”

I imagine strangling his ugly face.

“They’re gonna see what a little selfish brat you are.” He laughs, and even when he stops the sound of his evil laugh continues to ring in my ears.

I clench my fists to stop myself from punching him. “You know what? Tell him all you want.” I slam the door in front of his face. From the view of the window, I wait until he’s completely gone until I exit the door again.

I glance at the camera attached to the doorframe. Oliver seems to get the signal, and he says, “Come, I need to help you with some training.”

I nod along and follow him. We walk down alley to alley, taking right turns and left turns.

Finally, he comes to a stop—it’s so abrupt I nearly smack into him.

“What is it?” Oliver says with a nervous tone.

“Jack heard the renegade meeting. He knows about renegades. Earlier, he threatened to tell William.”

I lean against the alley wall, which is a red brick wall covered in graffiti. The person must’ve gone overboard because I can see parts of graffiti on the ground.

Oliver shakes his head. “Did he?”

“Probably,” I say, my hands shaking. I press them into the wall to stop the shaking. “What are we going to do?”

“Nothing.” He says. “There’s nothing we can do about this.”

I frown, but nothing comes out of my mouth.

“We have to come up with a plan now. To stop the Westerners from using that bomb. I reckon they’ve already stolen it, the hiding place wasn’t all that secured.”

“Are there duplicates of it? Maybe we could bomb out the Westerners?”

“There are no duplicate copies. It’s too complicated to replicate. Even if there was, it’d be too dangerous to use it.”

I nod, “That makes sense…” I slowly say, “If it was easy to remake copies, not only the west and east will be hurt, but also the north and south. People can use it against them, too.”

Oliver sighs a little, “That is true and part of the reason why it is so hard to duplicate. There are only two people who have the planning of the bomb: William and Mary.”

I nod, staring at the graffiti, “Even if the Westerners didn’t steal the bomb—yet—what do we do about Jack knowing about the renegades?”

Oliver glares up at the cloudy sky, “All we can do is to hope that Jack doesn’t tell William. We need to act quickly and get out of here.”

I kick the bricks covered in graffiti, “We need to switch places for renegade meetings. That’s all we can do for now.”

Oliver’s lips quiver a little bit, “Or...or we could let Jack join the renegades.”

I jump a little. Is that really a good idea? “Are...are you sure? Whatever he does, he’s still William’s son. He could betray us any second.”

“That might be the only way out of this...unless you can think of a different way,” Oliver says, his tone clear but quiet.

“Is there a way to not get Jack to join the renegades? I don’t trust him too much,” I murmur, “He’s not trustworthy.”

He nods, “Of course he isn’t. Although, I do have to discuss this with the other renegades. If they say yes, we proceed to the next part.”

I nod slightly, “Okay, if that’s the only possible way out.”

He sighs in a tone that makes me desperate.

“But let’s say we have a plan. How did Jack find out? All renegade meetings are hidden away completely.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh again. “That’s still a mystery. Now we should hurry, staying too long in an area without cameras is suspicious to William.”

I nod, “Let’s go find the renegades. Where do they live?”

“Well, Lena and Sal backed out of being a warrior while Carrissa is still an undercover warrior.”

I nod. “Let’s go see Carrissa.”

“That’s our only way…”

Oliver and I walk out of the alley. I spot a camera right at the end of an alley. I nudge him in the side.

“That was a few good punches,” Oliver lies. His face, originally tight and worried, has now changed back to usual—blank and stern.

I fake a grin, “Thanks. Would that be good enough for being a warrior?”

He pauses, “Just keep practicing, and I think you will do just fine.”

Oliver stops abruptly, and I follow along. “Come to the training room where there are more weapons to work with. I’ll help you.”

He motions me to follow him. I do, and I must’ve done so too enthusiastically because a strand of brown hair escapes from my ponytail.

We stop at a richer area, where houses cover the majority of the land. The houses, all built with grey stone, look over us with gloom.

I pause, then say, “This is…”

“Yeah. Carrissa’s place.” Oliver finishes off for me.

“I didn’t expect it to be so...gloomy,” I frown a little.

He glares at the buildings, “What did you expect? Warriors are like this. Renegades who are pretending to be warriors, in specific. This neighbourhood is home to the renegades. ”

I sigh and walk to the buildings with Oliver.

We get to a cheerful stone house when Oliver stops. The stone house surprises me. It’s decorated in elements opposite of what I would expect of Carrisa: Christmas decorations that were never removed and homey pictures hanging from the door.

“Is this Carissa’s house?” I ask, surprised.

Oliver nods. “Yes. Why are you so surprised?”

I pause, not knowing how to reply. “She’s...not this type?”

He ignores me and knocks.

“Coming!” I hear Carissa say.

When she opens the door, she lets out a small gasp, “Oliver! Leah!”

A smile leaks out of my mouth a little, but Oliver keeps a straight face.

“We are here to talk about serious business, Carissa,” Oliver snaps, getting right to the point.

She nods. “Is it about warrior training?”

“Yes,” Oliver replies, “About Leah—that’s why I brought her here.”

She nods. “Come in.”

Me and Oliver step into her house. Everything, unsurprisingly, is grey. I check the corners for security cameras, but to my relief, there are none.

“What is it?” Carissa asks, a bit impatient, “Why come to my house to talk about it?”

“Carissa, it’s about renegades,” I say.

“And?” She raises an eyebrow. She doesn’t seem surprised. I guess she knows about cameras.

“Someone found out!” I blurt.

“What?” There’s a slight tone of nervousness in her voice now. “What are you talking about?”

I shake my head, not knowing how to put it. “Someone was eavesdropping on our meetings. They threatened to tell William.”

She stays silent for a while. Then, “Who?”

I look at Oliver, wanting him to respond to this question.

He takes a deep breath. “Jack, you know, William’s son.”

Carissa seems shocked by this news. She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“I was surprised too. Jack told Leah this morning, and she ran to me right away,” Oliver states.

“And did he tell William?” Carissa inhales sharply.

I look down, “Not exactly sure, but I think he will.” I pause. I don’t want to tell them about how I rejected Jack’s deal with me.

“Our only option might be to let—no, convince—Jack to join the renegades,” Oliver says, oddly calm.

Carissa nods slowly, “I’m guessing that would be a good plan...so he won’t spill to William.”

I jump. Carrisa, to surrender this easily, is strange. I pause to think. Letting Jack join the renegades is like exposing all our information to the warriors. That can’t be good. He could easily stab our backs at any time—we wouldn’t know if he was completely loyal.

Carissa looks directly at me, “Yes. But only because it’s the only option we can come up with right now-”

“No,” I interrupt, suddenly coming up with a plan. “There’s more. Good news. Well, if you think about it, it’s bad news. But it’s also good.”

“What?” Carissa asks, prompting me to say it quickly.

“Remember how you needed Oliver to come up with a different plan than attacking?”

She nods, unsure.

I give her every detail of the spy incident, leaving out the part that she was a little girl. Then Carissa might criticize our plan. I had come up with a decent plan while Oliver and I were on our way here. Yes, it had flaws, but it was the only shot we got.

“I was thinking,” I say, with a certain level of unconfidence in my voice. “That we go negotiate with the Westerns.”

Carissa nearly chokes on the water she had been enjoying. “Are you crazy? This was the enemy of the East that caused ten years of war. You think a little negotiation is gonna do it all?”

I glare at her, and she sighs. “You want to stop the war? You’re gonna need my help. Listen carefully.”

I try not to look at Oliver, who was probably glaring at me for not mentioning the plan to him first.

“We can create a fake replica of the potion the Westerners would die for. And we exchange it for them surrendering war.”

The room goes silent for a while.

“I spot a few flaws, but that may work,” Oliver says.

Carissa nods along. “Looking at what condition we’re in, I think it’s the only way to do it.”

I scowl. They might be agreeing to the plan, but their critique slaps me in the face.

“What about Jack?” Carissa says suddenly.

“I suppose we leave immediately. Then, even if he tells William, we’ll be long gone.”

“How many of the renegades should go? We can’t take all of them.” Oliver’s voice is strained and tired.

I turn to Carissa. “Bring the leaders, the ones you trust, and a few of the strongest out of training. You’ve been training for the original plan, am I correct? They've got experience?”

She bobs her head, “That is correct.”

I nod slowly. “Host a renegade meeting—the sooner the better.”

Carissa shakes her head, “The next time everyone’s available is about next month—but I’ll ask if they could make time.”

I sigh, “Please ask them if they could make time sooner.”

Carissa nods again, “Now you should go. Leah’s training issues shouldn’t take this long.”

“Okay. Leah, let’s go,” Oliver says.

I nod as we walk out the door. When we step onto the welcome mat, Carissa says, “Leah, you should really work on gun positioning more. And also, your aiming skills need improvement.”

I make a face. “Warrior training is sure hard…”

Carissa glares, “What did you think?”

Oliver and I walk silently away from Carissa’s house, our feet scraping the pavement floor at every step.

He quickly walks to my apartment, then drops me off there. Like I’m a child and he’s the parent.

“Stay here until further notice,” Oliver orders.

I nod, not wanting to talk.

After Oliver leaves, I flop on my bed. All I could do now is wait for the renegades to figure everything out. I try to think of a better plan, but nothing comes to mind.

What about the nurses? Will they be okay with all this? What about Caroline and mom? I add in my head. It feels so weird to think back at the time where I was with them, so….distant. I remember the potion the Westerners go crazy for. What does the potion do? Who keeps the potion? Could it be...mother?

I shake the thought out of my head. It can’t be.

It has only been a few weeks, but it feels like it’s been years since I left the nurses. Did they ever look for me? Has anyone wondered where I went? Is mom mad? Just thinking about returning to the nurses makes me go sick. Mother would be so angry.

But most of all, father would be disappointed. I wonder if he’s watching me right now, sighing at my every step.

I sit up. If I want to go with the renegades, I should put extra effort into training. I exit my apartment and walk towards the training compound. I barely notice or acknowledge anything on my way there. I’m so deep in thought.

When I open the door, I see Jack standing near the gun racks.

“Jack,” I mutter under my breath.

Jack turns around, “What are you doing here?”

“Training?” I roll my eyes, “Duh. What else can I do in the training compound?” I pause, “But I could say the same for you. Why are you just standing near the gun racks?”

He snorts, “What I’m doing here is none of your business.”

I glare at him, “That’s when you seem suspicious. Tell me the truth. What are you doing here?”

He walks closer, “And why would I tell you that?”

I flinch. Act tough. “Just tell me or I’ll...”

He turns around abruptly, “Are you trying to threaten me, nurse girl?” He laughs, making me flinch again. “Well, I’m sorry to inform you, but I should be the one threatening you. Remember about the renegades?”

I jump. I’ve almost forgotten that Jack still knows about the renegades.

“Hah. Not so brave now that you remember I still have information about the renegades that I could easily tell William about,” Jack taunts.

“I don’t see you telling William. Where’d all your gut go?” I take a deep breath and run right back out of the compound before he has a chance to reply

We have to get out of here fast. The renegades need to leave quickly. I run towards Oliver’s apartment. When I get there, I knock, and Oliver opens the door immediately.

“Come in,” He says. “What is it?” Oliver gives me a half annoyed look, probably because he just told me to stay in my apartment fifteen minutes ago.

I glance up at the camera and Oliver motions to his balcony. I nod and follow him.

“Oliver, the renegades need to get out of here fast,” I say, panic rising in my chest.

“Why?” Oliver asks, confused.

“Jack...He threatened to tell William again,” I say. I don’t tell him about how I annoyed him. “I think he’s gonna tell him soon.”

He frowns, “I’ll tell Carissa about this. When do you think Jack will tell William?”

“Most likely this week,” I reply, “Hopefully not too soon. We should be gone by tomorrow night.”

He frowns but nods.

“Also,” I say, “Do we know who’s going to the West yet?”

Oliver nods slowly. “Carissa, Lena, and Sam will be going—that’s for sure. You should go too. Me...well, I shouldn’t go.”

“Why not?” I ask.

“Does Jack know I’m a renegade?”

“No.” I fumble with my shirt, trying to distract myself from thinking too much.

“That’s why. I have to stay or William will know.”

I tilt my head to the side, not understanding. “But it doesn’t matter...right? Since you’ll be gone anyway.”

He leans against the balcony railing. “There’s something you don’t understand. William has something against me.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t say.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. Why is this so difficult?

He looks up—to the roof—and sighs, “Anyway. I really hope this will work. This war should end; It’s been too long.”

For a second his eyes fill with a familiar look—with a trace of my hope, my feelings, my desperation.

But I blink and it is gone, hidden away in his layers of secrets. I search his eyes for any hint but it’s gone, only replacing his normal blank and glazed expression.

He sighs, “Just in case William senses something, I will be here to delay his arrival to the West.”

I nod, but not really taking in Oliver’s message.

“Now go,” Oliver says, “Stay in your apartment. I will come to contact you as soon as we have a plan.”

I swiftly turn around and run back to my apartment.

I get back to my boring apartment and flop back on my bed with nothing else to do.

I think about all stupid the things I did today. Talking to Jack like that wasn’t a good idea—especially when he knew such an important secret. A secret so important, it could possibly decide our future life.

The sun eventually sets, leaving me even more panicked. When will I get notified about our leaving?

I decide to pack—I grab my black bag off of my stone desk. I hadn’t packed anything, really, but all I need to do now is pack a few weapons.

I’m about to leave the apartment and towards the compound when the door slams open. I jump back in surprise. Lena stands there, her blonde hair blowing behind her. The wind eventually reaches into my eyes, making them salty and pained.

“Lena,” I say, unsure of what else to speak of.

“Leah. I’ve come to inform you we’re leaving tonight, as you had requested.” Unlike Carrissa, she looks at me with hate in her eyes. Like I was appointed boss without her permission. I frown.

“Okay…” I fiddle with my black bag, brushing the palm of my hand against the familiar black leather.

She nods. “The others are waiting on the bus. Come on.”

I stumble alongside her, casting a big comparison. My clumsy legs are nothing compared to her swift body in every step.

Oliver’s waiting outside the bus, his shoulder leaning against the gray car. He holds out a pistol—stun bullets—and a gun. “You’ll be needing this,” he says, and I give him a grateful nod.

The weapons still feel strange in my hand, like I am committing a crime. And I can never get used to the weight of it.

The others on the bus smile and tip their heads at me when I enter. I walk to the back of the bus and lean against a pole as casually as I can. My eyes search the bus, and it is not until the bus launches onto the road until I realize it’s Oliver I’m looking for. Right. He’s not coming.

Sal, Lena, and Carrissa are all in black uniforms, renegade colour. The westerners are blue, and the easterners are red.

I quickly look back to see if he’s still there, standing on the road, but he’s not. I let out a sigh. Not a shadow in sight.

Sal clears his throat. It’s not like we need to quiet down, we’re all as quiet as mice, but he does it anyway. I look in his direction along with everyone else.

“Everyone should know what we’re doing here tonight,” Sal says, “It’s to stop the war against the West with a fake replica of the potion the Westerns would die for.” He nods at Lena, “Lena has the fake potion.”

Lena looks in her bag and takes out a potion. The potion is blue, in a tiny, glass bottle. I shiver at the sight.

Someone raises their hand. “How do you know it’s blue?”

Sal raises an eyebrow. “Eastern Warriors have spies on the Westerners, too. And we have spies on the warriors.” It had only occurred to me now that Westerners didn’t have warriors. It feels so strange.

Sal looks at me. I flinch a little—I was scared another leader of the renegades might be against this plan.

“Everyone needs to be really careful on this mission,” Sal says, “Unless you are a leader, follow Carissa to be safe. Fighters and healers—I want you to stay somewhere safe as backup, again, with Carissa.”

I nod, along with everyone else. So am I a fighter or a healer? And this whole plan—it’s formed by me, and I can’t participate?

Carissa must have caught my frown because she gives me a reassuring smile as if to say, It’s okay, you can participate.

“This is an important but very dangerous mission. If you have been training like a warrior or perhaps once was one, carry your gun and pistol with you at all times. If you’ve been training like a nurse or once was one, be ready to help injured warriors at all times. The most important part is to be careful—put the mission behind if there’s any possible way of you getting hurt,” Sal continues. I relax. Good. The renegades aren’t as brutal as the warriors. In this situation, a warrior leader would’ve said, “Put this mission before your life.”

Someone raises their hand, “Would we have to shoot Westerns if they’re in our way?”

Sal eyes the boy, “Not unless it’s your only option. Remember, we are here to stop the war, if we shoot Westerns, that might make the war even harder to contain. We’re there to make a negotiation.”

I lean against the wall, seeming nonchalant. But inside, I’m on fire. This entire plan is my idea. If it fails, the renegades can turn against me.

After a few long hours, we arrive in Western territory. The buildings rise over us, all broken and battered. If I woke up here, it would be hard for me to tell the difference of whether I was in the West or the East. The only difference is I don’t see a compound.

“Here we are,” Lena announces.

An army of Western warriors already circled the bus. I try to remain calm.

“The Western warriors are outside the bus,” Carissa frowns at Sal. “What should we do?”

Sal sighs at Carissa, and says, “I’ve got a plan. Yes, it might not work, so we need to stay on the bus for this.”

Carissa nods, uncertain. Everyone looks concerned.

Sal and Lena jog down the bus. I see them approach someone in blue. The person jumps to see him and raises his gun.

I whisper to Carrisa, “Aren’t there renegades in the West?”

She nods. “Yes, but they probably aren’t referred to like that.”

I take my glance back at Sal. It looks like he’s having trouble. The man looks on the urge to press the trigger. Without thinking, I run down to the bus.

“Sir,” I say. Lena and Sal both look back at me, surprised. “Let us see your leader.” I hold up my stun pistol to his head. I’m not going to kill. Or stun.

The Westerner sighs. “Fine. We will take you to Kelly. My name is Rocco.”

Sal nods and hesitates before opening the door. I can tell he’s feeling nervous, but to tell the truth, we all are.

Sam, Lena and I follow Rocco. I nervously glance behind me, catching the bus zoom away. I wonder where Carissa’s taking them.

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Chapter 7

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We arrive in a stone building. Grey, very much like the buildings we have back in the East. Behind the building, I catch a glimpse of a compound. Their training’s pretty hidden, I guess. The first thing I noticed in the warrior area was a large, flat compound.

“Stay here as we talk to Kelly,” Rocco instructs, then heads into the building.

We all nod, afraid to say anything.

This feels like what I experienced going to William for the first time. I shudder at the thought of that.

“Leah,” Sal whispers, “Are you feeling okay?”

I nod, suddenly losing my voice. I wonder how Oliver’s doing.

Rocco comes back out of the building, with a frown plastered over his face.

“We are only allowed to take three people in,” Rocco announces, “Who would that be?”

“That wouldn’t be necessary to choose, because we already have three people,” Sal says, trying to act natural.

Rocco motions them to follow, and I pause for a second.

“Come on,” Lena says. I can see she’s on the verge to scream at me, but it’s not completely my fault. This is scary.

I nod reluctantly and step into the building in Rocco’s lead. It’s so quiet that our shoes hit the ground with every echo. The hallways reach to the very end where a metal door stands. We travel silently, and that’s when I notice how cold it is inside.

“Here’s Kelly’s office,” Rocco says, “I’m keeping an eye on you though.”

We nod and head inside Kelly’s office.

Her office is chilly, and in a completely different way than in the hallways. The icy temperature shot up my neck and crawled along my spine. I shiver.

A woman with a tight bun pulled back and a blue suit is sitting at the stone desk. Her features are somewhat petrifying. High cheekbones and daunting eyes. Stone figures lay on her desk. I frown. What’s it with Westerners and stones?

“Kelly. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Sal says, holding out a hand. She doesn’t shake it. Instead, she stares at us with cold eyes.

“I’ve been expecting you. My daughter Kara told me you caught her.”

I flinch. So she’s Kara’s mother.

“Although...where’s the silly red uniform of yours?”

“We’re not Easterners,” Lena says simply. “And I think our friend Leah over here should explain it all.” If looks could kill, I’d be half dead by now from Lena’s glare.

“Um…” I stutter, feeling a loss of words. “You see, we’re a group of people who aren’t Easterners or Westerners.”

She raises an eyebrow skeptically. I look at my shoes and continue.

“Kara told us what she was spying on us for...and now I know. I must say, I really do think that potion belongs to you.” I clench my teeth, hoping this will do the trick.

Kelly opens her mouth as if to rant about it, but she pauses and thinks better of it. She closes her mouth.

Breathe. I tell myself. “We have the potion...the one you’re looking for—I mean, the one that rightfully belongs to you.”

Lena reveals the blue potion. I glance back at Kelly, whose eyes cling greedily to the potion.

“Hand it over,” she hisses. Her voice startles me so much I nearly tell Lena to give it to her. Focus. Focus.

“Under one condition. End this war. Surrender.”

Kelly’s eyes move from the potion to me. I suddenly wish I hadn’t said that.

“You’re going to hand it over. Or we’ll make war on you.”

I panic. I mouth to Sal, WHAT DO WE DO?!

He rolls up his black sleeves. Leave it to me, he mouths back.

“Mrs. Burns,” he says confidently, taking the glass potion from Lena’s hand. “We’re not asking for much. This war began because you wanted this, am I correct?” He holds it up, dangling it with one hand in front of her eyes. “Ending this war is something you would do if you got it yourself anyway.”

Kelly leans back in her chair, her jaw tight. For a moment we all stand there, the air tense and nervous.

“Fine,” she says. I relax. “But not so easily. This could be fake. How could you get such a potion in your hands? Even I haven’t been able to...yet.” Her pride, of course, is always the most important thing.

“We-” I begin, but she interrupts, holding out a hand.

“It’s okay. Just hand me the potion and I’ll examine it.”

I hesitate. “How do we know you’re gonna end the war?”

She rolls her eyes. “Like you said. There’s no more to this, anyway. It’s also the same for you. How can I know it’s the real potion? Hand it over and let me examine it.”

Sal hands it over, and Lena speaks one last time before we leave the room. “What does the potion do, anyway?”

“You don’t know?” Kelly asks, taken aback.

“No,” Lena replies uncertainly.

“I suppose you’ll never know, then,” Kelly smiles coldly. Shivers run up my spine again, and I know we’ve done something wrong.

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Chapter 8

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We’re given each a dorm, and I fall asleep against the stone bed thinking of my father. The next morning, I wake up before sunrise with a fuzzy head. I check to see if the others are awake, but they’re sound asleep, so I quietly head to the library. We were given a tour before we went to bed yesterday. I was annoyed by how much time it consumed, but now I’m glad they did so.

The shelves, surprisingly, are made of wood, and the spines are all neatly placed onto each shelf. I let out a relaxed sigh. The library gives out soothing waves.

Someone coughs, and I jump a little. Turning around, I see it’s just the librarian.

“Are you looking for anything?” she asks. The glasses on her nose sit at the very edge, making me wonder if they’ll fall off anytime soon. I read the sign. Jenna Weign, it says.

I’m about to say no, but then I remember the conversation from yesterday. “Yes, actually. Do you have any books on the potion that’s causing this war?”

The librarian shakes her head. “I’m afraid not. But you’re standing in front of the person who knows quite a bit about it.”

I gape at her. “So, you’re going to tell me about it?”

“Sure,” she says. “Have a seat.” I sit down on a high chair that’s a meter away from her desk.

“I thought Westerners aren’t so happy to have us here. I mean, we’re strangers.”

“Ah,” she nods knowingly. “You’re from the renegade group that came yesterday. Well, I don’t really describe myself as a Westerner. I’m a little bit of an outcast.”

“Oh.” I can’t think of anything else to say. “But why would you tell me, a random stranger that just popped out of nowhere?”

Jenna sighs. “The more people that know, the better. The truth should be revealed.”

My heart is pounding against my chest. It’s finally time. I get to know the truth that was once buried so deep away from me. Now it’s in front of my eyes, ready to be opened.

She takes a deep breath. “Many, many years ago, a famous Western scientist, Charles Lee, invented a liquid called the manipulation potion. It would stimulate the head to follow the instructions of the person their eyes first meet after draining the liquid. He kept this potion and passed it down generation by generation to his kids.

“This vial was passed down secretly and successfully, never used, until the last child. Miranda Miller, a brilliant young girl. She found a way to duplicate it; to have the power over a whole population. However, she was killed at nineteen when an invasion from the East came—they stole the potion from her hands. The potion was originally secretive—only Charles’ family and descendants had known. But the news broke and war began, all the way down to this very day.

“The Easterns split up—they didn’t have the same goal. One side wanted to fight back, the other side wanted to hide from this war.

“It was said the East passed down the manipulation potion from daughter to daughter, falling into the hands of each new nurse leader.”

My heart drops at the last sentence. Could my mom be the one who has the potion right now? It can’t be. On the other hand, what is this business? Manipulation? I shudder. No wonder Kelly was craving it this much. If she really had her hands on that potion…

I decide to ask about one thing at a time.

“Nurse leader…?” My voice comes out small.

She nods, “Edith Hollis. You might’ve heard of her.”

I can’t think. Why would mother keep the potion, even though she knew it was the key to stopping the war?

I inhale sharply and try to continue.

“Yeah. But...why does Kelly want this so bad? Not to just keep the potion that was rightfully the Westerns, but to…”

I’m afraid to say the word.

“Take control.” Jenna finishes for me. “She wants to gain power over all three populations: Northern, Eastern and Southern.”

She sighs softly. “There’s not much we can do.”

I frown. Her mind has a very pessimistic functioning.

“Well, thanks for everything. I should be going.”

Jenna nods sadly. “I hope to see you again.”

“Me too,” I say. I wave her goodbye and head out of the library, eager to tell Sal and Lena the news.

On the walk there, I can’t help but think about what Jenna said. Edith Hollis. You might’ve heard of her.

I head into Sal’s dorm, finding Lena and him sitting on the ground, deep in conversation. They look up at me when I interrupt.

“Sorry,” I apologize hurriedly. “Did I interrupt something?”

Lena shakes her head. “It’s fine. What do you want?”

“Well. I just got quite a bit of information from the librarian across the hallway. I thought you guys should know.”

Sal nods slowly. “What is it?

“The librarian—Jenna—told me about the potion.” They don’t say anything, so I take a deep breath and continue. “It’s a manipulation vial—a potion that makes one follow the orders of the first person their eyes meet after drinking it. Turns out it was originally secretly formed in the west, and when a spy from the east stole it, the war began.” I relax a little. It feels like I’ve transferred the bricks on my shoulder to theirs.

For a few minutes, a cold silence greets the room. Then Sal breaks it.

“So that’s why Kelly...wants it…” he says slowly as if trying to process it. “She wants to manipulate...the whole population?”

I sigh. “I guess…”

Lena shakes her head and opens her mouth to say something. Before she can say anything, however, the door is flung open.

A few soldiers stand at the door. Before I can say anything, they grab each of us by the arm and we’re hauled away.

“What-” Lena starts, but the guard covers her mouth.

“Shut up and walk,” he growls. She tries to restrain, but it’s no use. Sal tries to fight the guard, but it only makes it worse. The guard kicks him, and he stops, wincing from the pain. I don’t fight back nor do I scream. I’m dazed. What’s happening? My shoes scrape against the pavement ground with a scratching sound.

They drag us down several hallways and push us into a cell. I frown. “What? Can you please explain?”

The guard who had grabbed me laughs, his laugh low and throaty. “You can have Kelly over here explain.”

I frown. Kelly? She walks into the cell view where we can see her.

“What in the world?” Lena lunges to the cell bars, her thin fingers gripping on the bars so tight her knuckles turn white.“We made a deal, you-”

Kelly chuckles. “You think I’d fall for your nasty little trick? I knew from the very beginning it was a hoax.”

“Why’d you agree with the deal, then?” Sal says hotly. He stands beside Lena, but he doesn’t quite lunge at Kelly with the same attitude.

“It’s quite interesting to watch you little bastards feel victory—for a while, at least.” She cackles. “Now that I have the new Western developed bomb in my hands, victory is finally coming my way.”

I drop down onto the cell floors. I failed. I thought I was so great, so powerful, but yet I was only vain and boastful—my plan didn’t work.

My knees ache from the impact, but I ignore it.

My cheeks heat up with embarrassment or frustration or fear—maybe a little bit of all.

I was too late. We lost.

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Chapter 9

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For the past hour, I feel Sal and Lena’s glare on me and a leaking pipe with water coming out. Drip. Drip. I sigh.

Footsteps from the distance tap down, getting closer each step. Hope rises in my chest. Is someone there to come to rescue us? I feel so dumb just thinking about it.

Just as I thought someone would appear, the clinking footsteps falter completely. I frown. Strange, I swear I heard something.

I take in a deep breath, “Who’s there?”

The footsteps don’t come back. I look at Sal and Lena, still glaring at me.

“You know, if you had never made this plan, we wouldn’t be in Western jail right now!” Lena bellows, and I flinch a little. She hadn’t moved or talked for the past hour. Her voice echoes in the empty cell, and it repeatedly rings in my ears.

“I-Its not completely my fault!” I try to protest, but I know whatever I say won’t change Lena’s mind. It is ignorant of me to even say so. It is my fault.

“Maybe letting you become a renegade was the biggest mistake that we’ve ever made,” Lena says. “I shouldn’t have let Wren invite you.”

I look down. Maybe it was. Maybe I’m the biggest mistake that the renegades ever made. If it wasn’t for me, Jack might not have found out about the renegades.

“Maybe I am,” I whisper quietly. The pride that was once in me fades away completely, leaving me with nothing but a pile of fault.

We lie down on the cold stone floor for the entire day. No one but the cell guards come around.

“Where’s Carissa and the other renegades?” I ask Sal.

He shrugs, “Probably back in the East.”

I sigh, but I don’t respond. I glance at Lena, not knowing what to do or say.

But by tomorrow, I will have a plan. A plan to get us out of here. A plan to make everyone safe.

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“I have a plan,” I say to Sal and Lena the next day.

“Okay,” Sal says emotionlessly.

I sigh, “It might not be the world’s best plan, but-”

“I’m sick of your plans!” Lena snaps, “Coming here was one of your plans, and look where it lead us!”

I look at Sal for support, but he just stays silent.

“Do you want to hear my plan or not? We don’t have to follow it if you two both don’t agree, but just let me explain it.”

Sal sighs, “Lena, let’s give her one more chance.”

I smile gratefully at Sal as I explain my plan to them.

“We could climb out the window and go open the cell door,” I explain, “And after we’re all safely out, we go find Carissa and the other renegades. Once we are all together, we head back to the East.”

Lena inhales sharply, “And how would anyone climb out? The window is very high up.”

I say with hesitation, “Ladder formation.”

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever made, Leah Hollis!” Lena shouts a second after I finish. I flinch.

“Do you have a better idea?” I shout right back. Ignoring her glares, I continue my plan.

I place a foot on Sal, and I see him flinch. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I grab onto the ledge of the window where I can hang and pull myself up from there. I hoist myself up and sit down on the window ledge. “Okay, I’m here.”

Lena sighs, “Finally.”

I look at the window, “It’s not locked,” I mutter. Strange. Why wouldn’t they lock the window?

I open the window without any difficulties, and when I look out, I see Carissa and the other renegades grinning up at me.

I jump down and I wince.

“Are you okay?” Carissa asks.

I nod, “I think I just twisted my ankle a bit, but I’m fine otherwise. You guys are all here! How did you know?”

Carissa laughs. “We were circling around the compound when we heard your bickering. You guys were so loud we could even hear you through the window.”

I frown. We weren’t that loud.

Carissa nods, “I’ll go save Sal and Lena.” She heads back up to the window to pull Sam and Lena up. I look around the crowd of renegades.

“Wren!” I exclaim when I see her.

She grins at me, and I run over.

“Your other mission’s done?” I ask.

She nods, “Basically.”

Carissa soon comes out with Sal and Lena.

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” Lena gasps a little.

I grin, “We should go now—the Westerns will see we’re gone soon.”

Everyone nods.

I recap on the loose plan I had thought about in the cell. If it was bad, then no one shows expression on that.

“Carissa, go recruit the other renegades still on the bus. We might need them. Wren, Sal, and Lena, can you three lure the Westerners over to the nurse compound? I trust you guys on that.”

I smile at Wren, the most convincing person I’ve ever met. She grins back.

Lena eyes me. “Who died and made you boss?”

I sigh. “This is the only way. Do you have a better idea?”

She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

Sal says with a frown,“While we do all this, what are you going to be doing?”

His forehead creases in a way that makes me a little bit sad. Sal used to be so supportive.

“I’ll be collecting the manipulation vial and making an end to this war.” But not just any ordinary heroic act. To succeed one but to betray another—stealing the vial out of my very own mother’s hands.

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Chapter 10

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When I arrive at the nurse compound, I inhale the familiar scent. Home.

I wonder what mother and Caroline are going to do when they see me. Get angry? Hug me?

I nervously enter the apartment building and make my way up the building. I take the stairs, hoping that will make time go slower.

When I reach the door, my fist is shaking. I hold it up and knock, slowly three times.

Caroline opens the door almost immediately.

Her first reaction is a stare. The stare is cold, making my whole body freeze. She gasps, then pulling me inside and slamming the door closed. The house is messy, and I hit my back against the wall in surprise. What changed?

We’re silent. When the silence is no longer comforting, I begin. “So..uh...How are you?”

I step forward, but Caroline slams me against the wall. I hit the wall with a slam, making me flinch from the shoots of pain.

“Where. Were. You.” She hisses through her teeth.

Fear takes over me, and I lose a sense of words. “I...I…”

“Do you know what I had to go through!?” She pushes me harder against the wall, and my fear washes away, replacing anger.

“Easy for you to say! You were the good kid, the smart and brilliant one, you think it wasn’t hard for me?!”

My breath is heavy and unsteady, my emotions escaping from my control. But then she lets me go, leaning against the kitchen counter. For a moment we are silent, and the ice between us breaks.

Then she hugs me. I nearly topple over, surprised at the sudden change of emotion. Through tears, she says, “Leah. Why didn’t you come back earlier? I needed you.” She sobs onto my shoulder, making it damp from her tears. I ignore it.

I stand still for a few moments, paralyzed, but after a while, I can’t help it so I hug back. The feeling is warm as if everything is alright. But it’s not.

“Where’s mom?” I ask.

She pulls back from the hug, her smile disappearing and tears drying. “On a more serious note…where were you?!” She nearly says it in a scream.

I hold my breath. “I had to escape. Everyone was treating me like I wasn’t good enough, and…and…I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t know how hard it was. Mother suffered from depression after you were gone, Leah.”

My head is light. Mother suffered because of me. Because of my stupidity? A hole forms at the pit of my stomach. Because of me.

I pinch the back of my head to stop myself from crying. “Depression?”

She nods and looks at me with the same disappointed look I used to get all the time. I look away.

“We called the police. They searched but never found you. We were devastated. Mother was more pressured and stressed for the past week.”

Tears begin to fall from my eyes. I meant to heal myself while I was gone, and yet I failed and broke another on the way.

Caroline wipes my cheeks. “I want you to apologize to mother. And be careful when you see her. She might be on the verge of hitting you and hugging you at the same time.”

I nod. “Caroline…”

“Yes?” Although she has forgiven me, she looks at me in a different way, as if I’m an alien from space.

“I found out that mother…” I take a deep breath. “Has a potion.”

“What?” Caroline says, but the hint of confusion is missing from her voice.

I start from the very beginning, giving her every detail from when I left the house to the cell in the west.

She listens carefully and patiently, never interrupting.

When I finish, she’s silent.

“Leah, I have something to tell you.”

“Yes…?” I ask, worried.

“I knew about it already.”

I stare at her for a moment. “What?”

She knew this whole time, she knew, but she didn’t say a word. She thought I wasn’t good enough. I shake my head and try to cram all my anger into a box. My chest hurts from the force. Now is not the time to get angry. She knows about this, she knows where mother keeps the vial. This could help me, rather than hurt me.

Caroline continues, “I asked mother about it. She told me it was the reason for this war, this long and bloody war.”

“Why didn’t she return it, then? The potion that’s not rightfully hers?”

“It’s manipulative, Leah. She knew Kelly would spill its contents over the world to gain that power if she held control over the vial.”

I sigh. There was a point.

“Well, my plan isn’t that. It’s different, I’m going to destroy it so no one can ever fight for it again.”

Caroline looks at me with a look I wish I could wipe off her face. “Destroying it would cause more war and more destruction. Kelly would be furious; you know of it yourself.”

“It’s different this time. The bomb that she stole could destroy an entire population. She would wipe the nurses out, she would murder you. She would murder mother.”

Caroline pauses at this. I know where it hits her. When she gives it all in. Mom.

“Fine. Come with me, I’ll show you where the vial is.” I let out a sigh. My plan worked—and better yet—it was easier than expected.

She enters mother’s bedroom, revealing an unmade bed and a messy table. Guilt twists inside me, telling me I caused this.

Caroline pulls out a box from underneath the bed. It reads Monopoly, a game I once heard of when I was young.

She opens it, revealing a small box. So my mother disguised it as a Monopoly game. I wonder if she was hiding it from the Westerners, or if she was really just hiding it from me.

The box displays a blue screen with a fifteen-digit passcode. Caroline types something in, but I don’t remember it or even acknowledge it. My heart is thumping too fast and too loud. I’m getting the answer to this war. The dangerous answer.

“Here. Do whatever you want with it. I’m done with this.” She tosses the vial in my hands, and I fumble with it. The glass bottle is smaller than the replica we made, and the blue is more of a clear colour than the sky blue we made it.

I pocket it and look back at Caroline. “Thanks.”

She lets out a sigh I cannot be more familiar with. It is then, that I realize, it’s not easy for her. I’m not the only one who has it hard. “I’m sorry, you know,” I say. “I really am. I know how hard it is for you. I’m sorry I acted like a child.”

I expect her to smile and forgive me like she usually does, but instead, she sighs again. “Yeah.”

And she leaves the room without another word, creating another thick wall between us.

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When I step out of the apartment and head over to the bus I had taken to the compound, I nearly flip to what I see. Hundreds of people dressed in blue are standing there, guns loaded and pistols steady. Kelly is leading them, with a weapon in her head. I nearly scream at the sight of the weapon. It’s the bomb.

The security laser has been turned off and the walls have been lowered. Are the nurses surrendering? But no, I look behind me to see hundreds of nurses standing there. And mother in the lead. However, only a select few hundred people are standing there. I know there are many more nurses. On the side stands renegades, wearing black. I try to communicate with them with my eyes, but they don’t receive the message.

Silence fills the air.

Each nurse is holding a gun, and choke on the air I had been breathing. What’s happening? My head is dizzy with a mix of fear, confusion, and dread.

Before I can run, mother spots me. She looks like she is going to faint, and I rush over to help her.

“Mom.”

Tears form in her eyes, and to my relief, she doesn't ask a question nor say a word. She just hugs me.

Kelly speaks up. I break away from the hug. “Should I wait for your little reunion to finish, or can I begin?”

My mother pinches her lips together. “You’ll never get what you want, Kelly. Even when you’ve killed us all, you won’t find the vial.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Edith.” Kelly raises the bomb as if to signal her people to begin fighting, but I scream before they can, “Stop!”

Heads swivel in my direction, and I gulp. Taking a deep breath, I move closer to Kelly.

“You see...I have exactly what you want.”

She glares at me with a chilly stare. “You’re that girl that tried to trick me. I’m not falling for it twice.” She looks angry. A lump forms at the back of my throat, and I try to swallow it. However, it doesn’t go away.

I smile, and it comes naturally. “Not yet. You’ll want to hear this.”

She raises her eyebrows. I know better to think she is giving me a chance—she’s taunting me.

“Not a single replica can replace the real one.” I quickly reach into my pocket and pull out the vial. Her eyes cling onto the bottle, and this time, I know she knows it’s real.

“Say goodbye to your dreams.” And in a quick, swift motion, I smash the bottle onto the pavement ground. The bottle hits the ground with a loud bang.

“Leah! You don’t know what you’re doing!” I hear my mother’s voice.

“Mother. I’m sorry.” I say, looking at her reaction. I immediately wish I hadn’t. It’s horrid.

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Something is happening. Instead of just a liquid spilling out of the glass bottle, blue smoking begins rising into the air.

The blue smoke enters my lungs and I cough.

I stand there for a few moments, unsure of what to do. Then disappears nearly immediately, startling me. When I can see everyone again, my heart stops beating.

Each face, Western and Eastern, look at me with blank stares. What’s happening? I try to avoid the answer, but it punches me straight in the stomach. They’ve inhaled the manipulation smoke. Part of me asks, But you have to drink it. So why is everyone manipulated? My hand shakes. There’s only one answer: It’s more powerful than I thought.

It should feel good to have an entire population under my control, but instead, my body feels heavy. I wobble. I’ve made a huge mistake. Everyone stares at me, waiting for me to order them around, but I’m speechless. My head dizzy, I drop to the ground, crouching low.

I’ve manipulated everyone.

But everything I’ve been doing for the past week was supposed to prevent the potion’s smoke from getting into people.

But in the end, I’m the monster that caused an entire population to lose all their freedom.

Tears spring to my eyes. I can’t cry. Not now.

But does it really matter? I’m the only conscious one, anyway. But it does. I know it does, but I don’t want it to, yet I still can’t prevent the truth from sinking in.

So I pull myself together and stand up. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to look at the crowd. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. If I were to whisper, I’d attract everyone’s full attention.

“Listen up!” I shout. My voice comes out wobbly, just like I am wobbling myself. I choke back a tear when I see my mother’s blank eyes.

“I want all of you to stay exactly where you are—do not move until I come back to give you further instructions.” It feels wrong to order this many people, so wrong. But I glance at Kelly, and satisfaction fills me halfway.

They nod in unison, and a big shadow swallows me. I’m a monster.

Glancing around, I wonder where I’ll go now that everything’s under control—not the good kind. A powerful, possessive, evil kind of control. But it gives me an advantage.

Oliver, I guess. He’d know what to do, he’ll help me.

My heart racing, I head towards the bus and smash the drive button. The bus starts off slow like usual and then gains speed. I crouch low, unable to stand up from energy loss.

As I travel back to the compound to find Oliver, I think of all the events that occurred to me in the past week. So much has happened. I don’t know what to become of anymore; to be a nurse, to be a warrior, or to be a renegade?

Since I was young, I had always admired and dreamed of becoming a warrior. Not until I knew how they truly were did my dream walk off the cliff. The scenery outside of the bus windows changes in flashes, and I remember what my father had once said to me: You get to decide who you are. Not the nurses. I never thought much about it until now.

I suppose I can truly make sense of it now. Because I know what I want to be.

I want to be the lion that leaps off a monstrous high cliff just to save an insignificant mouse; I want to be the solid wind that restores the fire that once burned vividly and makes it blaze brighter than before

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