Summer Lane - State of Chaos

Harry betrayed me.

You don’t know what Kamaneva did to him to get him to do this , my conscious points out. She probably threatened to have him killed. He didn’t have a choice.

No. We all have a choice. I never would have betrayed Sophia or Harry.

And Chris never would have betrayed me.

I curl up in a ball in the front corner of the building. My mouth is dry, my heart is beating fast. A wave of fear like I’ve never experienced before in my life crashes over me. Tears blur my vision.

Tomorrow, Kamaneva will come back for me.

Tomorrow, I’ll be executed.

I’ve been in life or death situations before. How many times did I almost die when I was trying to find my father after the EMP hit? More times than I’d like to count. But this is different, because all you can do is sit and wait for death to come knocking at your door. You can’t fight it, you can’t do anything about it. You can only hope something scares it away and gives you a little extra time to stick around.

But that’s not going to happen. Not now.

Dawn has broken outside, and slits of sunlight are falling through the single window near the roof of the storage building. I’m standing with my back pressed against the far wall, studying the words and phrases etched into the wall by prisoners that have been locked in here before me. Everything from names and dates to Bible verses has been scratched into the paint. Somebody wrote:

Rose Leland

Reedley, California

Don’t Forget Me

A final note. I fight the tears prickling behind my eyes. Breaking down isn’t going to do any good at this point. My fate is sealed. And now that the hysterics have passed and I’ve accepted this fact, I’m swamped with an eerie calm feeling.

It’s like being stuck in a dream. It doesn’t seem real, but it is. I’m totally spaced out. I keep rubbing my thumb along the gold shield necklace Chris gave me so many months ago. If he knew I was about to die, would he tell me he loved me? I don’t know. I don’t think I want to know.

But I can hope.

Thirty minutes after sunrise, I hear footsteps approaching the building. My muscles tense. Everything gets sharper, louder. My fear is a physical thing. I’m going to die. I’ll be executed just like everybody else Kamaneva has ever made an example of. Nobody will even remember that I existed.

Suddenly frightened at the prospect of being forgotten, I pick up a small shard of metal from the floor. I scratch my name into the dark paint on the wall, leaving CASSIDY HART in white letters. Underneath it I put my age, 19. There. At least I’ve memorialized myself somewhere. It’s not like I’m going to get a funeral. They’ll probably throw my dead body into a ditch…

The door rattles, breaking me out of my morbid thoughts. Kamaneva steps inside, four Omega guards with her. I tilt my head to look up at her from my crouched position on the floor. She takes in my appearance and smiles — not in a friendly, fuzzy way, either. It’s more like a twisted leer of satisfaction.

So not helping.

“Ready?” she asks.

I say nothing. I simply glare.

Two Omega guards pull me upright, and that’s when I notice that one of the troopers with Kamaneva is Grease. He’s looking at me with sad eyes. I lock gazes with him and he frowns before looking away.

And that’s it.

I’m taken out of the storage building and led through the center of the school. We pass the LAB and the cafeteria. By the time I’m brought to the front of the school, there’s a big crowd of POWs. A curving section of the road dips close to the front sidewalk, widening near a few steps that lead to a dried up fountain. It used to be a school bus parking area. Now it’s a stage for prisoner executions.

I also realize that all of the POW groups in the labor camp are gathered around. Hundreds of them. Kamaneva has turned this into a bloody circus performance.

I’m led to the center of the road, up the steps to the fountain. The Omega troopers release me. Kamaneva takes a step forward and gestures to Grease, looking him over.

“Kill her,” she says.

He blanches, frozen. I don’t even try to resist. Why would I? I’ll be shot if I attempt to escape, and I’ll be shot if I don’t. I’m a dead girl either way. Escape isn’t happening.

“Let this be a lesson to everyone here,” Kamaneva growls, stalking around the circle like an angry cat. “Look at Cassidy Hart and witness what happens if you disobey.”

I raise my head, suddenly angry,

A rush of satisfaction fills my heart. It’s as if the crowd of prisoners isn’t even there. There’s no stage fright, no humiliation. I’m furious and hey, I’m about to be executed. I might as well say what I want to say.

“You can kill me,” I state, lifting my chin higher, “and you can kill everybody else in this camp. But you can’t kill the desire to be free. Somebody will take you down. It will happen.”

Kamaneva’s jaw is tight. Her cheeks redden.

“You’re replaceable.”

“I’ve got news for you,” I reply. “You’re replaceable, too.”

The crowd murmurs softly. Kamaneva’s eyes dart to Grease.

“Give me your weapon,” she commands, referring to the handgun he’s holding. “Let’s get this over with.”

I swallow and fist my hands at my sides.

So this is how it ends for Cassidy Hart? She gets shot in the head by a crazy woman at a bus stop? Not the glamorous death I’d envisioned for myself. I’d always pictured myself dying some kind of tragic death where I get put in a glass coffin and people look at me lying there and say nice things about me.

Not that I have an ego or anything.

“Any final words?” Kamaneva asks, taking Grease’s weapon.

“Yeah.” I make a monumental effort to keep my lower lip from trembling. “I didn’t go down without a fight.” I turn to the crowd. “And neither should any of you !”

Kamaneva lifts the gun, pointblank range, muzzle to my forehead.

This is it. My ears fill with the frantic beating of my heart. My vision turns hazy as I stare down the cold, steely bore of the gun. I blink and tears run down my cheeks. I curl my fingers into fists to control my shaking.

I hear the crack of a gunshot and jerk backwards, expecting a short burst of pain. Light at the end of a tunnel. Blood. Something. But instead I just hear a lot of screaming. I open my eyes and stare at Kamaneva. She’s on the ground, shrieking in pain, clutching her side. Blood is soaking her jacket.

A long burst of automatic fire erupts, and a second later two Omega guards are sprawled dead on the ground. The prisoners freak out. They start running in all directions, panic setting in. I search the trees and the school property line for the source of the gunfire but I don’t see anything. Omega guards are shoving and firing.

I leap to my feet and sprint away from Kamaneva, weaving my way into the panicked mob. Omega guards are scrambling to close the gate around the prison, randomly firing into the crowd. In the midst of the chaos, Grease shoves his way through the crowd and grabs my arms.

“Come on!” he yells.

I jerk away and plunge into the crowd, squirming out of his reach.

“Cassidy, if you want to live you have to stay with me,” he continues, chasing after me. I ignore him, fear pumping through my system. Well, fear and a lot of shock . I came way too close to getting shot in the head.

“Cassidy, I’m with Chris !” Grease shouts.

I spin around, staring at him.

“You have to believe me,” he says.

Stunned, I open my mouth to reply, but my words are lost as a massive explosion rocks the school. I’m thrown backwards by the impact. Heat hits my face and the front stretch of the gate outside the administrative building bursts into pieces. Heat and flames lick around the edges. Omega troops as well as prisoners are flat on their backs (or faces), groping around, trying to regain their balance. My ears are ringing and my hearing is temporarily out of order, making everything just that much more confusing.