I
move closer to them. “You’ll have my badge? You’ll have my badge ? I
don’t care about your stupid badges.” I slap his cheek, hard enough to leave a
bright red handprint, and for a moment, I’m amazed that I had the nerve to do
it.
Hawkins is, too, but he stays silent
as he touches the welts my fingers left.
“Brandon is dead.” The words are
painful, but I have to say them. Need to say them so he’ll understand. “They
killed him, and unless you shut your mouth and let us explain what’s up there,
we’re all dead. Do you understand me, General Chief ?” I’m mocking
Hawkins, and he knows it.
But, he nods and doesn’t speak. Wise
man…for once.
“This is Finn. He’s a scout from the
DAV—sit down, Hawkins! Do not try to get up again or I’ll let him put his knife
where you don’t want it. You sit there, and you listen to what he has to say. Thirty
seconds, Finn, hurry.”
Finn moves a step closer to Hawkins.
“I’ve been a DAV scout for three years, and I know you won’t believe me, but
you’ll just have to trust that I’m on your side. About a mile north of here,
maybe more—they’ve already crossed Rafael’s Ridge, at least the vanguard has. Five
hundred troops on foot, and behind that, down in the valley, there are ten
thousand more just like them ready to march all the way through the PRV. Maybe
more. They’ll capture your people and burn anything in their path.”
“Tell him about the tanks,” I say.
Finn glances at me, surprised that I
already know.
“Tanks?” Hawkins says, fearful and
disbelieving at the same time. “They were supposed to get rid of those with the
Pact. That was part of the—”
“It doesn’t matter what they were
supposed to do, Hawkins. How many, Finn?”
“Twelve.”
“Twelve?” Now it’s my turn to be
shocked.
“They probably won’t be able to send
them through the forest.”
“They’re not,” I confirm. “I
overheard the soldiers say they’d have to send them around the flanks, along
the roads where it’s open.”
“Why?” Hawkins asks. “Why’re you—”
“ They ,” Finn reminds him.
“Why’re they invading? Why
now?”
Finn hesitates to give an answer. He
told us he didn’t know, back in the woods when we had him tied up, and if he
answers truthfully, he’ll reveal that he lied to us. At this point, I care, but
I don’t. I’ll deal with him later. We’re already wasting too much time
answering questions when we should be telling the others. I’m anxious, antsy,
and I want him to get on with it. “Answer him, Finn.”
“Difference of opinion.”
“What does that mean?”
Finn steps out the door, looks
toward the north. “They were renegotiating the Peace Pact.”
“When?”
“I don’t know—about a month ago.”
“Why?”
“Shut up, Hawkins, let him finish.”
“We— they need…workers. The
DAV is growing too fast for our workers to keep up, and our president told
yours he wanted to renegotiate. He said that if the PRV provided him with a
bunch of servants—”
“You mean slaves?” I ask, barely
able to grasp what I’m hearing. The idea is unthinkable.
Finn nods, reluctantly. “President
Crake told Larson that if he handed over a number of workers, he wouldn’t
invade and take them. Your president dared him to try.”
“Slaves?” Hawkins asks,
disbelieving.
“Yes.”
“Good God.”
“Unless you get your people out of
here, right now, prayer might be your only option. Now, do we have your
permission?”
I’m so dumbfounded by the idea of
slavery that I don’t wait. I can’t let that happen to my friends, the people in
my extended family. To Grandfather. If he’s free, if we can find medicine, he
might have a chance at survival. But as a slave, he’s as good as dead. I say,
“I don’t need his permission. Not anymore. Let’s go, Finn.”
I grab his arm, pulling him with me
out the front door, leaving Hawkins behind in the chair. I should ask— tell —him
to help,
move closer to them. “You’ll have my badge? You’ll have my badge ? I
don’t care about your stupid badges.” I slap his cheek, hard enough to leave a
bright red handprint, and for a moment, I’m amazed that I had the nerve to do
it.
Hawkins is, too, but he stays silent
as he touches the welts my fingers left.
“Brandon is dead.” The words are
painful, but I have to say them. Need to say them so he’ll understand. “They
killed him, and unless you shut your mouth and let us explain what’s up there,
we’re all dead. Do you understand me, General Chief ?” I’m mocking
Hawkins, and he knows it.
But, he nods and doesn’t speak. Wise
man…for once.
“This is Finn. He’s a scout from the
DAV—sit down, Hawkins! Do not try to get up again or I’ll let him put his knife
where you don’t want it. You sit there, and you listen to what he has to say. Thirty
seconds, Finn, hurry.”
Finn moves a step closer to Hawkins.
“I’ve been a DAV scout for three years, and I know you won’t believe me, but
you’ll just have to trust that I’m on your side. About a mile north of here,
maybe more—they’ve already crossed Rafael’s Ridge, at least the vanguard has. Five
hundred troops on foot, and behind that, down in the valley, there are ten
thousand more just like them ready to march all the way through the PRV. Maybe
more. They’ll capture your people and burn anything in their path.”
“Tell him about the tanks,” I say.
Finn glances at me, surprised that I
already know.
“Tanks?” Hawkins says, fearful and
disbelieving at the same time. “They were supposed to get rid of those with the
Pact. That was part of the—”
“It doesn’t matter what they were
supposed to do, Hawkins. How many, Finn?”
“Twelve.”
“Twelve?” Now it’s my turn to be
shocked.
“They probably won’t be able to send
them through the forest.”
“They’re not,” I confirm. “I
overheard the soldiers say they’d have to send them around the flanks, along
the roads where it’s open.”
“Why?” Hawkins asks. “Why’re you—”
“ They ,” Finn reminds him.
“Why’re they invading? Why
now?”
Finn hesitates to give an answer. He
told us he didn’t know, back in the woods when we had him tied up, and if he
answers truthfully, he’ll reveal that he lied to us. At this point, I care, but
I don’t. I’ll deal with him later. We’re already wasting too much time
answering questions when we should be telling the others. I’m anxious, antsy,
and I want him to get on with it. “Answer him, Finn.”
“Difference of opinion.”
“What does that mean?”
Finn steps out the door, looks
toward the north. “They were renegotiating the Peace Pact.”
“When?”
“I don’t know—about a month ago.”
“Why?”
“Shut up, Hawkins, let him finish.”
“We— they need…workers. The
DAV is growing too fast for our workers to keep up, and our president told
yours he wanted to renegotiate. He said that if the PRV provided him with a
bunch of servants—”
“You mean slaves?” I ask, barely
able to grasp what I’m hearing. The idea is unthinkable.
Finn nods, reluctantly. “President
Crake told Larson that if he handed over a number of workers, he wouldn’t
invade and take them. Your president dared him to try.”
“Slaves?” Hawkins asks,
disbelieving.
“Yes.”
“Good God.”
“Unless you get your people out of
here, right now, prayer might be your only option. Now, do we have your
permission?”
I’m so dumbfounded by the idea of
slavery that I don’t wait. I can’t let that happen to my friends, the people in
my extended family. To Grandfather. If he’s free, if we can find medicine, he
might have a chance at survival. But as a slave, he’s as good as dead. I say,
“I don’t need his permission. Not anymore. Let’s go, Finn.”
I grab his arm, pulling him with me
out the front door, leaving Hawkins behind in the chair. I should ask— tell —him
to help,
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