Page 33 of Dissent

“Field exercises…basically war games.”

“War games? Like,people-killing-each-otherkind of war games?”

Chelsea snorted as she began walking into the brush just ahead of us. A four-story building rose off in the distance, but the shrubs and trees made it difficult to see anything but the top of it. “Yeah, princess. What else? You think we’re going to walk up to Telvia, knock gently on the door, and ask politely for Raúl to step down? I don’t think so. This is about to be a war, and war means people are going to die. Andwehave to be ready for it.”

It all made sense. I knew everything she said was true. After all, did I not just watch Chase die only a few days ago? But hearing the gunfire, hearing Chelsea talk about war, it all just hit me in a whole different way. And the realization finally struck me that shit was going to get a whole lot worse, and I was probably going to die in the process. The question was, who was going to kill me first? My father or the Dissenters?

15: Get Ready to Rumble

Itturnedoutthebuilding wasn’t the most functional. The concrete structure was an old bunker that served as a command post at one point. The roof was flat and—supposedly—was a helicopter pad. But I highly doubted it had been used in a while since part of the roof had caved in and the whole thing looked like it was going to collapse at any second. Most of the windows were broken, and the entire facility was just a ruin at this point. But there were still some rooms that could be secured. They had converted several of them into armories, a medical unit, and an emergency command post that Chelsea said didn’t get used anymore. I was also told there were five basement levels that served as emergency living quarters should the main camp need to be evacuated.

Chelsea was hot to get somewhere because I was practically jogging to keep up, winding through various corridors until we arrived at a room that was acting like a giant walk-in closet. There were racks of uniforms and rows of boots lined up across the back.

“Grab a jumpsuit and find a pair of boots that fit you. Across the hall is a changing room. Switch out and then dump your stuff here in the corner for now. Meet me back outside when you’re done.” I wanted to ask questions, but the look ofdon’t you dare start talkingon Chelsea’s face was enough to have me bite my tongue. She left the room, leaving me alone with the racks of clothing.

It wasn’t hard to find my size, and the changing room was easy enough to locate. I got dressed, pulling the slick, deep green jumpsuit up over my body. It was snug, skintight in fact, with a zipper that went up from my belly button to my collarbone. Despite the tightness, it was flexible and moved freely with my body as I bent my knees to try it out. There was a mirror in the corner, and a few steps took me right to it.

Let’s see just how tight this little number really is.

The verdict—it looked like it was glued to my freaking skin! It contoured to my body, clinging to every curve, from my breasts to the inward curvature of my waistline, and back out to hug my hips. I wasn’t going to lie—I was a little self-conscious about it. I mean, I looked good…realgood, but I wasn’t used to having my body exposed like this. And that was the funny thing. The uniform completely covered every inch from my collarbone to my ankles, but the tightness had me feeling more naked than ever. Not to mention that every single movement seemed magnified. Just the subtle rise of my chest as I breathed seemed more pronounced than ever before.

Deciding that there was no use in fussing about it, I tucked my necklace into my jumpsuit, put on my boots, and left to deposit my clothing in the corner of the closet, as instructed. Staring at the floor, I opened the door to leave the changing room, noticing a weird smudge on one boot as I stepped forward…and slammed right into a wall.

“Damn!” I was thrown off balance, but I didn’t fall on the floor like I would have if someone hadn’t reached out and held me steady. Looking up, my eyes met Chase’s. My heart fluttered with a familiar yearning, and then it all disappeared when I remembered one important fact.

Chase was dead.

Oh crap.

I seriously had to stop staring at the floor as I walked because it wasnotworking out for me at all! Every muscle locked, cemented by fear, as I stared into Wes’s eyes. He must have recognized it because he let me go and took a step back.

“Are you blind or something? Watch where you’re going,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry,” I stuttered out. I was struggling to get my brain to function, flip-flopping between being totally and utterly embarrassed, totally and utterly freaked out, and totally and utterly shocked.God, he looks so much like him.The urge to touch his face was strong. Despite this guy’s current look of total hatred and annoyance, my brain kept telling me he was Chase. His icy stare faltered.

“It’s fine. Just…be careful.”

I couldn’t get any words out, so all I did was nod. He took a breath and then sidestepped, clearing the doorway for me. I swallowed hard, taking a ginger step past him, clutching my clothes to my chest as I did. I made it a few feet into the hallway, thanking the universe for letting me escape that interaction alive and intact.

“My name’s Wes.” I stopped, frozen in mid-step. He was talking to me, and not in thestalker-killer-in-the-woodskind of way, either. I turned my body slightly, looking over my shoulder at him. And when I did, a kaleidoscope of emotions flooded me, causing my breath to catch in my throat. He shifted his gaze to look at me again. “My name’s Wes,” he repeated, obviously thinking I hadn’t heard him.

I bit my cheek. What was I supposed to say? Nice to meet you? You look just like your brother? You’re damn sexy? Thanks for scaring the shit out of me the other day? I settled for, “I’m Mara.”

“I know.”

Of course he did.Duh!I didn’t know what to say, and standing in this hallway was incredibly awkward and pretty intimidating. Deciding I was done with the weird meetup, I tipped my head at him and turned to walk away.

“I’m sorry.”

What did he just say?

His voice was soft, and a hint of pain hinged on the end of his words. I turned around this time. I wanted to say something, but I wasn’t really sure what was going on here. But it turned out I didn’t have to say anything because he wasn’t done yet.

“I’m sorry for yesterday.” He looked at the ground, unable to hold my gaze. “I wasn’t going to hurt you. I…I’m just messed up right now, okay? And I…fuck.It doesn’t matter, just…I’m sorry.”

I could see it. I could see just how much he was hurting. It was in the way his body seemed to crumble and sag suddenly. It was in the deflated look on his face, screaming defeat and sorrow. I knew exactly how that felt. Because I’d been feeling that way since I watched his brother burn alive in front of me.

There was a part of me that wanted to be angry at Wes for what happened at the river. But there was a bigger part of me that understood, because the truth was, I hated myself so much ever since Chase died. And my life had become so fucked up ever since that dying at the hands of Chase’s identical twin seemed like poetic justice to me. It felt like the right ending to my story. In the end, I wasn’t mad at him. I understood him…he made sense to me.

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