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She went to sleep and set her alarm for a few hours later. When she awoke, she would meet up with Sherwood and rescue Michael.

At one in the morning, Monica woke up and examined her body again. Her feet were covered in blisters and her legs could barely move. The pain was terrible, and the idea of running or even hurrying seemed impossible to her. She wanted to lie down for three days and watch movies on Netflix cuddling Michael, but that would never happen again unless she walked down to that camp and saved him.

She stood, grunting, and put on the heavy backpack. She winced and even cried a little the pain was so bad, but she kept moving. She put on the backpack and strapped it up. She made sure she knew where her extra bullets for the gun under her coat were. She made sure that she was ready.

Monica slowly walked down the mountain to the camp. Her mind and body were sore. She thought for a second that she wouldn’t look very pretty for Michael, but she realized that Michael probably didn’t look good either.

She looked at her GPS and figured out where she needed to be and at what time. She could see the fifteen foot high razor wire fence. There were giant lights but many of them were turned off. She walked to the dark spot in the fence the CIA agent had told her to approach. No one was there. She looked at her watch. It read 2:48AM. She realized she was early. She was always early. It was a long twelve minutes. She kept thinking she would die, that the men in the towers would see her and shoot her. She would be dead and not even get to see Michael. Then Sherwood Burke and Michael arrived at the fence. Monica smiled, as did Michael. He touched the fence. Monica reached out and touched his hand. Their hands touched. It felt so good to both of them, so sweet, so tender, so like a miracle.

Michael said, “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much also,” Monica said.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Sherwood Burke said. “You will have time to fuck and suck later, no fucking and sucking now. Monica, where are the bolt cutters?”

“I have them here.” She detached them from the bag and said, “Here they are.”

Sherwood Burke said, “Cut a hole in the fence and give me the bag.”

“Okay.”

Monica slowly cut a hole in the fence. While she cut, Michael told her how all they did all day was attend classes where they talked about responsibility and how to follow procedure properly. Monica asked him if they fed him well, Michael said they made him eat shitty American food every day. Boiled steaks and hamburgers, mac and cheese and Snicker bars. It was disgusting.

Monica finished cutting the hole and handed the bag through. “Can we leave now?”

Sherwood Burke said, “No, by ourselves we can’t leave. They will catch us. We have to take over, we have to fight. There is no running anymore. The plan is already set into motion. I have separated everyone into three groups: the Seminoles, Apaches and Comanches. The Seminoles will attack the four surrounding towers, the Apaches will attack the doors of the base, and the Comanches will take the tower located on top of the main building.” Sherwood Burke opened the backpack and took out the guns and grenades and said, “Three of the guns will go to Apaches who will attack the base. I will take two of the guns and attack the towers. The grenades will be divided up between the Apaches and Comanches. This is going to turn into one hell of a firefight. A lot of people might get scared and just hide even though they said they would fight. This is to be expected. But we have them grossly outnumbered. Even if six-hundred of us don’t back down, we should win. We also realized that a certain part of the beds can be detached to make spears.”

“Fuck spears. They have machine guns,” Monica said.

“All the Zulus had were spears and they beat the British a couple of times,” Sherwood Burke said, laughing.

All three of them snuck back into the area where the bunks were. Everyone was awake and ready, just pretending to sleep. Sherwood handed out the guns and grenades. Monica looked around. Nobody looked happy about what was happening. Everyone looked scared. But they were ready. Everyone got out of bed and detached the homemade spears from their bunk beds.

Monica sat down on a bed next to Michael. Monica said to Sherwood, “I read your Talking Points. Is that really enough to start a full-scale revolution? I mean, do you have any other justification for this, any ideology? I want to know why I might die tonight.”

“Because they have decided to point guns at us, they have decided to break the laws of this land for the sake of their own comfort and pride.”

“I know that, I know they are pointing guns at us, I know they are breaking laws, I know what they are doing is unjust, but what makes what we are doing just?” Monica had become stronger over the course of the last several days. She had learned she had more courage and determination than she ever thought she had.

“Because I don’t believe Locke’s interpretation of the Bible and private ownership was accurate. Locke’s interpretation leads mankind to destroy the environment, but I don’t believe the Bible states that.”

“Then what is your proof,” Monica said.

Burke sat on a bed and picked up a Bible and said, “They let you have Bibles here, the only book they will allow. Prisons never change.” He opened the Bible. “Locke used Psalm 115:16 to justify private ownership and the destruction of the planet, ‘The heavens are the Lord’s heavens but the earth he has given to human beings.’ That is Locke’s verse, which is in the Old Testament, but the verse that comes from the New Testament stating who owns the earth is from Colossians 1:15. ‘He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers — all things have been created through him and for him.’ That verse obviously states that the earth was created for Christ, therefore if everything was created for Christ we must treat everything with empathy and love.”

Monica said, “I don’t know if your logic works. It just means that everything is for Jesus. It doesn’t explain what it means.”

“But obviously Locke used selective reading. He specifically selected a verse that was good for his wants and needs, just as I am using a verse picked specifically for my wants and needs. It’s all just interpretation. We need to give people a new interpretation of looking at nature. The Bible is the way to do that. I also found a verse in the Qur’an from the House of ’Imran 3:109: ‘To God belongs all that is in the heavens and on earth.’ Christianity and Islam agree that the earth belongs to God, so we should protect it and treat it with love.”

Mike said, “What about the Jews and Asians who don’t care about Christianity and Islam?”

Burke laughed. “The Asians have capitalism now. They have private ownership, and they have never asked where it came from. They don’t care at all that their economic systems are based off an old Jewish poem.”

“This really makes mankind look stupid,” Monica said.

“Yes, they truly are fucking stupid. But I have one more verse, Revelation 11:18. ‘The nations raged/but your wrath has come/and the time for judging the dead/for rewarding your servants/the prophets, and saints and all who fear your name/both small and great/and for destroying those who destroy the earth.’” Burke paused, smiled and said, “‘I am the destroyer of those who destroy the earth.’”

“Isn’t that a poem?” Michael said.

Burke smiled. “Yes.”

“This is insane,” Monica said.