Page 18 of Resist

And then…

It all collapsed.

He dropped his gaze and gave me a weak smile that lacked emotion. Taking several steps back from me, his hands returned to his pockets. “Let me know when you figure it out.” Wes turned, giving me his back, and walked away.

I was left standing there, mouth agape, riddled with confusion and unease. And, for some reason, I got the feeling that what I was trying to figure out was not the same thing Wes was talking about. For some reason, I got the feeling that the issue we weredancing around was something big, and I had a sneaky suspicion Wes knew something that I didn’t.

And that part scared me.

11: Bait and Switch

Itossed and turned in my bunk all night, feeling the unease pooling within me. And when I finally fell asleep, five in the morning came too quickly and I had to get up, get dressed, and report to the mess hall if I wanted any chance of breakfast. But I didn’t get the chance. No sooner was I dressed when my tab binged with a message telling me I needed to report to the Situation Room for debriefing.

Of course…

I wasn’t surprised, but I felt so tired and groggy, and my stomach growled in hunger. I was more irritated than anything. My mind kept replaying my exchange with Wes the night before, and I hoped he wouldn’t be reporting in with me.

The walk to the Situation Room was nothing to get excited about. Fort Warren was unremarkable, looking more like a concrete jungle, with rows and rows of boxy concrete buildings, concrete sidewalks, and asphalt.Lotsof asphalt. Cracks in the cement allowed for spindly weeds or shoots of grass to grow.That was one of the biggest differences between the North and Telvia—vegetation. Telvia had none of it. It was all ripped out to reduce water usage because of The Great Drought that ended over twenty years ago. But that narrative didn’t suit Raúl’s needs. It didn’t keep people in line.

And heneededthem in line. He needed to retain control. And to retain control, he lied to them, kept them living in fear that there wasn’t enough for everyone.

Not enough water.

Not enough food.

Not enough resources.

Not enough.

But the North was different. Following the Great Drought and the last civil war, after the weather stabilized, weeds started to grow. Dandelions, crabgrass, milkweed…and the fields turned green again. The dying forests regained their former strength, and the animals returned. Bugs first, of course, but then the birds. The birds migrated back from wherever they had sought solace. Then little rodents seeking seeds, followed by larger game. Then the predators: foxes, coyotes, wolves, bears. The world slowly returned to normal, Mother Nature having reset the natural balance that was vital to support life.

As the world returned to its former state, the North embraced old customs that were once so important to sustain civilization. They began to farm again, to grow fruits and vegetables, to raise cows, pigs, and chickens. They brought back old luxuries, like beer and cookies. I still didn’t know what a cupcake was, but I imagined it was something like a cookie since it involved baking. Edith taught me how to bake while I lived with her for those few months. We only did it once because many of the ingredients required to bake were still expensive and scarce. But if a cupcake was anything like a cookie, I really wanted one.

Despite Fort Warren being dull, the Situation Room was a little better. It sported white walls with images of military aircraft, pictures of troops standing at attention, and the Calvernon Family Crest on a flag. A wooden, rectangular table sat in the middle of the space, polished so pristinely that it would have reflected a perfect mirror image of the ceiling if the little black hologram box wasn’t sitting in the middle. Ten chairs bordered it. The far end of the room also contained a screen that consumed the entire wall, and a projector hung from the ceiling. As I stepped inside, I saw Sasha, Giza, Fisher, and—damn it—Wes.

“Mara, come join us,” Sasha greeted me, her voice cool and collected.

“Good morning, Miss de la Puente,” Giza said as he tipped his head. He was Sasha’s righthand, which was probably why heliterallysat to her right, on the left side of the room. He was the Sergeant Major of the Dissenter forces, and I liked him. Unlike Sasha, Giza was always a straight shot. You always knew what you were getting with him, and I appreciated that so much, especially coming from Telvia: the city of lies. Giza had to be in his sixties, with salted strands consuming most of his former black hair and goatee. But no amount of aging could take away the beautifully deep chocolate color of his skin. He was strong and firm. An excellent leader—Dissenters followed his command without question—and he was kind.

On the opposite side of the table sat Gary Fisher, First in Command of the North, and he did nothing but grimace. He was also an older man, roughly in his seventies and closer to Sasha’s age, with wisps of gray hair combed back stiffly. I assumed hair gel was involved, though I couldn’t imagine why he bothered since he was practically bald. He rarely had anything helpful to say, and mostly asked questions rather than give any input. Wes sat next to him, and he didn’t even turn to look at me.

Here we go again…hot, cold, hot, cold. I blew out a breath. “Hi,” I mumbled. My stomach twisted and grumbled softly. Jeez, I was freaking hungry. I had a bad habit of skipping meals. Without having someone like Edith always carting me around everywhere, I always forgot to eat until my stomach had contorted itself into a pretzel—which I had one time. They’redelicious.

“Sit, child.” I took the seat closest to me, which placed me at the far end of the table, furthest away from the screen on the opposite wall. “Sergeant Major, would you please get us started?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he stood. The lights flickered momentarily and then turned off as the projector clicked on and illuminated the room with its soft light. “Two days ago, our team broke into the Administrative Building to collect information on the whereabouts of the fugitive, Jacob de la Puente.”

An image of my brother, dressed in his formal REG uniform, flashed on the screen. The sight of him made my heart spasm in my chest. He looked so handsome with his lightly tanned skin, blond hair trimmed short, and blue eyes. He looked so much like Belinda, and nothing like his father…ourfather.

“Intel gathered from the mission revealed that Mr. de la Puente is being held at Bellfire Tower. The data gathered by Miss de la Puente revealed his cellblock information, a map of the facility, and the location of the tower.”

“Excellent,” Sasha stated flatly.

My lungs ached, and I suddenly realized I was holding my breath. I closed my eyes for a second, and slowly released the air. I really didn’t know how much information I got from the computer. I just knew I had no time, and I wasn’t sure which files would give me what I needed, so I just kept copying and saving as much as I could before all hell broke loose.

Giza nodded. “For the first time, we have the location of the tower. Good work, team.”

I flicked my eyes to Wes, but he still refused to look at me, keeping his eyes locked on Giza. I exhaled again and returned my gaze to the graying general.

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