Summer Lane - State of Rebellion

“Is there a place to land?” I ask.

“Only during daylight hours, and even then I wouldn’t go down that way.”

“Why?”

“Rogue Militia.”

I strain to see the lake as we pass over it, nothing more than a dark spot from this distance. “Rogue Militia?”

“Thieves and bandits. Organized paramilitary units that rob and murder innocent people.”

The plane eases to the left, a current of freezing air washing over the nose. I throw my head back and smile despite myself.

“I knew you’d like it up here,” Manny says triumphantly.

“You didn’t know anything,” I reply, grinning. “You were just hoping.”

“True, true. But what’s wrong with a little hope now and again?

Nothing at all.

Our scouting mission over the mountains lasts for what seems like hours. As soon as the first hint of dawn appears on the horizon, Manny changes the direction of the plane. We’re heading home. We haven’t seen anything suspicious. No troop movements. No sign of Omega. Not that I could have seen anything with my untrained eye if I’d wanted to, but I like to believe that I have enough skill these days to spot something out of the ordinary.

By the time we make it back to camp, it’s early morning. I feel alive, invigorated. And as I see the meadow from the sky, a sense of calm and peace wash over me. Peace about my decision to leave with Chris and join the National Guard. Peace about my father staying behind to lead the Rangers and protect Camp Freedom. For the first time in a long time, I feel free. Like I have a choice.

Like I’m independent. Truly independent.

The plane slowly lowers to the ground. Everything seems to flash by faster as we get closer to the meadow. The trees, the sky, the grass. When the wheels actually hit the earth, we bounce up and down. Instead of being afraid, I laugh. What a ride. What an exhilarating experience!

Manny coasts the plane down the meadow, makes a tottering U-turn, then slowly his beloved aircraft comes to a halt. The big engine cuts out. He stands up in the cockpit, takes off his cap and goggles and turns to me, grinning from ear to ear.

“And that , my dear, is how it feels to be on top of the world,” he says.

I climb out of my seat, jump onto the wing, and hop into the grass. I throw the goggles back into the cockpit and look around. Everything seems so big down here. Up in the sky it all looked so tiny. Like miniature toys.

“Manny?”

He looks at me.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say. “I needed it.”

He nods slowly, shoving one hand into the pocket of his leather duster. He strolls off, humming Freebird by Lynyrd Skynyrd under his breath. I walk in the other direction, away from the meadow, back towards the barracks. Nobody has risen yet at this early hour, although the clatter of Manny’s biplane had to have woken at least one person.

I slip back into the Bear Paw . Sophia is still sound asleep, one arm hanging off the bed, snoring softly. I crawl onto my bunk and press my face against the pillow, closing my eyes.

I’ve made my decision.

And I’m sticking to it.

The night before the convoy leaves, Chris and I take a walk around the edge of the compound. It’s dark enough that we can hold hands without looking unprofessional in front of the militia. And right now I really need to hold his hand.

“I don’t know how to say goodbye to Dad,” I say. “He hasn’t spoken to me since the meeting with Commander Rivera.”

“He will. He’s just hurt, Cassie.”

“I’m not doing this to hurt him.”

“He knows that. I know that. Everybody knows that but you.”

I stop at the fence, gazing at the trees beyond the metal border. “I know what I need to do, I just want him to understand why.”

“You can’t force him to understand,” Chris replies, drawing me to his chest. “Your dad can’t be forced to do anything. You can only be honest with him. That’s all you can do.”

I wrap my arms around his waist, inhaling his scent.

“You’re right.” I sigh. “I need to say goodbye to your family.”

“I already told them goodbye.” His heart beats faster, a sign of discomfort. Saying goodbye to the family he searched for — just like I searched for my father — must be enormously difficult. Because in this climate, you never know if you’ll see each other again. “They understand. I have a responsibility to lead my men.”

“It’s not just that,” I say. “You have a responsibility to fight wherever and whenever you can. You have skills that most of us don’t have.”

He grins softly.

“Yeah?” He kisses my cheek. “Says who?”

“Says me.” I trace the curve of his jaw with my thumb. “I guess I should go alone to say goodbye.”

“You should.” He raises an eyebrow. “But I can come if you want me to.”

“No. I need to do this myself.” I stand on tiptoes and press my lips against his for a brief, passionate kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Cassie.”

“Goodnight.”

I step away from his warmth, marching myself towards Staff Housing. In less than ten hours, I’ll be on my way to Fresno. I’ll be out of the mountains for the first time in months. Out in the open.

Do what you gotta do, I think. You know this is the right thing.

Staff Housing is illuminated with a couple of dim lanterns. The interior lighting in the cabins is hidden with black cloth and, in some cases, boards nailed over the windows. I trail up the cul-de-sac road, stopping at the middle cabin in the neighborhood. It’s surrounded with Manzanita bushes and bear clover. I walk up the front steps and knock on the door.

Isabel answers.

“Cassie!” She throws open the screen door and hugs me fiercely. “I haven’t seen you in two days!”

“I’ve been a little busy,” I shrug apologetically. “Can I come in?”

“Duh.”

I walk inside. The front room has a simple couch, outdated shag carpet and a fireplace. It’s a basic cabin. No artwork on the walls. No books on the shelves. Mr. and Mrs. Young are sitting together on the couch, poring over the pages of an issue of Reader’s Digest from 2009. And, to my complete surprise, Dad walks out of the kitchen.

What is he doing here? I didn’t know he was chummy with the Youngs.

“Cassidy, how nice to see you!” Mrs. Young exclaims. “Isabel’s missed you.”

I pull my eyes away from my father.

“I’ve missed you, too.” I square my shoulders. “I came to say goodbye.”

She licks her lips, slowly setting the magazine down on the coffee table.

“I had a feeling,” she says. “Chris and Jeff were here earlier.”

“Now it’s my turn.”

“No!” Isabel storms up to me, crossing her arms. “You can’t go ! You’re safe here! We’re all safe here! If you leave, I might never see you again!”

“I know.” I put my hands on her shoulders. “Isabel, try to understand. I’m not doing this for myself, I’m doing this because it’s the right thing. I can’t stay here when they need me out there.”

“There are plenty of other people to fight on the front lines,” Dad suddenly says.

I place my hand on my hip.

“No, there’s not,” I reply. “And what are you doing here, anyway? I didn’t know you were in the habit of having late night coffee with the Youngs.”

“He came to talk to us about Chris,” Mr. Young interjects, speaking up. Something he rarely does. “It’s fine, Cassidy. Don’t worry about it.”

“Talk about Chris ?”

“Cassidy, try to understand,” Dad sighs. “I was just worried about my daughter.”