Page 48 of Rising

“On our side?” It was a simple question. If he truly was, there wouldn’t be any hesitation, a need to second guess his mission here.

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate. His eyes didn’t flicker from my own, no longer fidgeting with his fingers.

He displayed no signs of discomfort, or dishonesty. “But just because I want to fight on your side doesn’t mean I have to blindly support leadership without question. It doesn’t mean I have to like you, or respect you.” The latter came out in a snarl.

As much as I hated how much his bitter words pitted themselves deep in my soul, I knew he was right. He didn’t have to do any of those things, he just had to listen to my command. In fact, if those words had come from anyone else’s mouth, I’d respect them for it. Only a sheep would follow blindly, and the last thing I wanted in my troops was a bunch of sheep.

No, I wanted lions. I wanted wolves; I wanted savages. I wanted people who fought tooth and nail and gave their very last for the greater good. And while I had no question that he would give his life for a greater cause, I wasn’t sure it was mine.

Each day that passed was another day I came up empty for evidence on his role in the larger part of what was going on. Shit. If I had any clues or evidence that something larger was going on, I still hadn’t completely ruled out that this wasn’t the collective result of shitty leadership from every settlement in the state. There was no reason but my own gut to keep Alexiares from working under Riley.

It was the next best option for Alexiares, anyway. He wouldn’t be an official part of my troops. Wouldn’t have the luxury of knowing our operation plans, take note of our resources, know of our contingency plans or anything else important.

While Riley’s men couldbe soldiers, they weren’t always. And the men he was responsible for deploying out into the world or living in the shadows of The Compound, they operated on a need-to-know basis only. They worked off information that was essential to getting the job done, and that alone was enough to get me to agree to this stipulation. That and he would remain relatively monitored while he reported his daily movements to Riley in their mandatory debriefs.

“Fine,” I ground out, making sure Riley took note of every minuscule displeased movement of my face, “if you’re willing to risk everything you’ve worked hard for on this degenerate, then as you wish. Now get out of my office.”

Alexiares offered a smug grin as I rose from my seat and moved into my bedroom, pulling on the running clothes that I’d dropped onto my floor late last night. I neededto run. It was the only thing keeping me from spiraling.

Amaia

Things were tense with Riley in the days that followed. We’d never had a falling out of sorts before and it was new territory for us both. The time we spent together didn’t change. He was still there throughout my days. Showing up when I needed him the most and for any planned meetings, unfortunately accompanied by the nuisance named Alexiares anytime there was no confidential information being discussed. In the moments where Alexiares wasn’t around, the air between Riley and I was still heavy.

Our usual easy, comfortable relationship felt weighted, anchored in my anger and his silence. He apologized. Insisted it didn’t mean he supported me any less, apologized on behalf of him and Alexiares for the words Alexiares had spoken and described the near squabble they’d had after they’d left.

Riley was disgusted with the change he’d seen in Alexiares behavior, seeing the side of him I’d complained about for the first time. Had felt guilty for bringing him into my space and cornering me. He also emphasized he remained firm in believing having Alexiares on our side was acting for the good of us all. Trying to give us any advantage possible.

Not once did he apologize for questioning my judgment. The words were on the tip of his tongue, I could see him fighting with the words. Ultimately, deciding not to say them at all. He’d never be sorry for that. For me. For the others that were left of the family he’d found. Riley would never apologize for questioning what would keep us safe.

I didn’t fault him for any of it. Still, the first rift in our relationship had every interaction feeling forced and unnatural. The effortless flow in our conversations that were once as if we were connected in the mind now stumbled and stuttered. Neither of us wanted to address that either, hoping time would heal all.

He fell into stride with me as I ran throughout The Compound late Wednesday night. We’d laid the final soldier to rest from the attack, the officialness of all the loss overwhelming. I’d only lasted a few minutes alone with my thoughts that evening before prying up the floorboard under my bed and downing half a bottle of tequila. It’d come back up in my toilet moments after. I wouldn’t let it win.

The reflection in the mirror scared me the most, the emptiness in my eyes that replaced the hope that had once gleamed in them.

Every night I ran through a list of ways to up our surveillance and patrols. Drafting up new questions to ask when debriefing returning patrol units, creating new training plans to prepare the new units that would be sent out in a relief effort. Double and triple checking all communication transcripts that sometimes came through over the radio. Making sure I didn’t miss any records of emissaries that had been in and out of our gates the last few months. Reviewing Tomoe’s vision transcripts from the witnesses she channeled after each attack. I’d read through Jax’s final vision transcription more times than I could count, each time hurting just as much as the first.

After that, I’d move on to reviewing any patterns we could place on the attacks, but if I was honest with myself, there weren’t many. They never happened at the same time of day, nor did they present a favored day of the week. The weather conditions were never consistent either, rain or shine. Fog or mist, it didn’t matter.

Each of the attacks aside from Jax’s had involved Pansies, leading my only solid conclusion to be that that was an assassination, an execution. Not an attack. Had they been lucky, had Jax not told me to take my first day off in weeks, I’d likely be six feet under right next to him. If I was a gambling woman, I’d put everything I love on the fact that the second explosion was meant to be the one to take me out.

The motivations were all over the place. Trade caravans, others were patrol units, Jax’s assassination and our gate being breached, then there was our San Diego squad, though we’d never be sure if Riverside was simply overrun by a herd or if they were ambushed. We wouldn’t know the extent of the situations at other settlements until the emissaries were able to give a full debrief to Seth in a few more days. From an educated guess, I had to assume their situations were the same, if not more dire due to lack of numbers and solid infrastructure.

When my brain was mush and I could no longer take it, I ran. I ran until I couldn’t breathe anymore. Until my legs burned and the only thing I had any energy left to do was lay in my bed and fall asleep.

So Riley ran with me.

* * *

Two weeks.That was all we’d gotten. Two weeks of peace and quiet, free from any attacks. Fom funerals. Fom death. All the other groups had made it to their final destinations aside from San Diego.

San Jose, Fresno, and Bakersfield were now under control. Sacramento was stable for the moment, but calling on our closest neighbors in Vegas for help. Reno was out of the question for aid considering their recent pleas for help, and Portland had agreed to send a few soldiers down but would take longer to get there. Redding was also stable. We all knew it would only remain that way for as long as Sacramento and Reno could hold on.

The reports from all had been the same, borders had been under constant strain, and if the General didn’t fall, the Lieutenant had. Sacramento had lost both. Niklas, Prescott’s closest ally in San Jose, had been slain. He’d been attacked visiting his old home right outside their walls on the anniversary of his late wife’s death.

It wasn’t hard for me to figure out these had all been targeted hits. An attempt to cause chaos by taking out crucial leaders in the community in the midst of instability. Two questions remained: who, and why?

Reina and I had been cuddled into the little couch. Moe, sitting on the floor, leaned up against us in her study. Moe and I were reading while Reina pretended to. She hummed as she thumbed through the pages of her book and Moe elbowed her every so often, telling her to shut up.

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