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Two burly guards unlock the barrier and pull it open before them, exposing a short tu
They reach the surface, where the fog is settling on the debris from the bombing, coating the world in a thin layer of gray powder. A
“My God,” she says.
“They’ve destroyed it all,” Maia says.
A
“The lights are back on,” A
“And they’re brighter,” Maia says, reading her mind.
“This can mean only one thing,” A
At that moment, a horn blares, drawing A
Hundreds of red-clad sun dweller soldiers pour from the maw of the tu
“Move!” A
BOOM!
An eruption of rock and fire and pain—from the splinters of stone shrapnel on her face and arms—a
“We’ve got to get back to the bunker…warn the others,” A
“I’ll go,” Maia says, moving out from the wall before A
“I’m fine,” the girl says, rolling off of her. “You?”
“I’ll survive.”
“We’ve got a problem, General,” Maia says, looking back toward the bunker. Following her gaze, she watches as a massive stone block settles over the mouth of the entrance.
“Dammit,” A
“Follow me,” Maia says, once more surprising A
As Maia hurdles a low wall, there’s another explosion, this time just to her right, and she’s thrown harshly to the side, tumbling down a small rise and into the blackness of a cellar. Just before she disappears, she cries out.
Her head on a swivel, A
No response.
Thumbing her flashlight back on, she steps through the opening, descends a dozen stone steps, and flashes the light on Maia, who’s against the wall grimacing, clutching her ankle and breathing sharply through her teeth.
“Did you hit your head?” A
“No. My ankle. I sprained it,” Maia says.
“It’s too hot out there at the moment,” A
Maia nods, her eyes a steel-gray. “I’ll be here,” she says, forcing a laugh through her locked teeth.
Turning, A
CRACK!
A terrible sound of destruction rends the night. A huge stone block looms over the cellar entrance, rocking slightly, as if trying to decide which way to fall.
CRASH!
It topples, blocking the exit and thrusting the cellar into complete darkness, save for the thin beam of A
Her heart sinks as she realizes: the cellar is now their tomb.
Chapter Four
The first ten minutes were the worst. Breathing in plumes of dust-ridden air from the explosion, coughing and coughing, but never managing to expel the choking fumes; hearing the deafening blasts of bombs going off all around them, the ground shaking, the roof threatening to cave in; wondering when the first sun dweller soldiers would arrive, whether they would break through the barricaded cellar opening, hot metal death flying from their automatic weapons: it was ten minutes of expectation. Expectation of pain—expectation of death.
General Rose huddles next to Maia, not embarrassed by the physical contact between leader and warrior, desperately needing the comfort of having a friend nearby.
I’m going to die without seeing either of my daughters again, A
No! I will not go quietly into the night. This fight I’ve fought for so many years will not be lost, not while I’m still breathing, while my heart’s still beating, while blood continues to pump through my veins.
“We’re going to be okay,” A
“I know we will,” Maia replies.
For a few minutes they continue to wait for something to happen, but the bombing stops, leaving the only sound their haggard wheezing. But even that is silenced eventually, as the dust settles in a layer of gray powder on the ground. The air is breathable once more, and both women take the opportunity to cleanse their lungs with the fresh oxygen.
“I’ve always really admired you,” Maia says.
A
“Because you’re strong and courageous. You put the lives of others above your own. My mother said you would be the one to change things.”
A
“It’s not over yet.”
Once more, A
“Death,” Maia says, her voice a whisper in the dark.
“Tell me,” A
“My father was a revolutionary, like you and your husband. My mother stayed home with us, a somber woman, always expecting my father not to come home one day.”
“Who was your father?”
“James Berg. He was in the Resistance for two years before the Uprising.” There’s a hint of pride in Maia’s voice.
A
Maia laughs. “He said similar things at home. He was the opposite of my mother, always seeing good in people and in the future, whereas my mother only saw our situation worsening. In the end, she was right, I guess.”