Page 73 of Vistaria Has Fallen
Calli’s attention, though,was skewered by the grainy outside-broadcast images on the screen. Nicolás Escobedo had also been on the island and walked amongst the small crowd of people that followed the President. As the camera panned past him, he turned to speak to someone by his shoulder, the square jaw outlined by the last of the summer daylight.
Her heart stirred painfully. She forced herself to look away from the television.Minnie watched her and said nothing.
Joshua turned the television off after that. “I think it might be all right,” he declared, rubbing his hand through his hair, scrubbing at it. “I think it was a one-off thing, like the President said. Nothing else has happened for over twenty-four hours. We might be okay.”
“You mean I packed for no reason?” Minnie protested.
“Leave everything packed. Fromnow on, we operate under yellow alert. You girls grew up watchingStar Trekso you know what I mean. Assume the worst, prepare for the worst, just don’t fire the guns just yet. Speaking of which...do either of you have pistols at all?”
“Oh my,” Beryl murmured.
“I hadn’t thought about that,” Minnie said. “I know Duardo had one.”
Calli shook her head. “No. Neither of us have guns,” she told Joshua.
“Good. Now listen hard. Donoteven think about acquiring arms. Of any sort. Not even for self-protection. This isnotthe States and I’m damn sure that the rebels are not kitted out with uniforms or even quasi-military clothes. It means that if you are found with a gun in your possession, you instantly stop being a civilian and become a rebel. Calli, you’ve been in prison. Justice here isn’tlike you’d get back home. Do you think they will throw you in jail and give you a trial if you’re found with guns on you?”
Calli shivered. “You’ve made your point.”
“Good. Minnie, promise me.”
“I promise,” she said, subdued.
They went to bed, their moods pensive. No one felt like talking or watching vapid entertainment. The Vistarian commercial station still broadcast static.
Calli huggedherself, wishing it were Nick’s arms around her. She wished he was there, whispering reassurances into her ear, his deep voice crooning that everything would be all right, that of course the rebels would not try anything while he were there and he would protect her if they did...
Only Nick was busy working to preserve his country and if he thought of her at all, it was probably with a small,reminiscing smile for a risky indulgence.
With a deep sigh she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, knowing sleep would come no easier to her than it had on other nights in Vistaria.
She was woken by frantic banging on her bedroom door and sat up, blinking away sleep. It was daylight.
“What is it?” she called.
“The door is locked! Calli!” Minnie’s voice.
Calli crawled out of bed and unlockedthe door. Minnie pushed into the room waving a newspaper. “Calli...ohmigod, Calli.” She gripped Calli’s wrist and shook it, waving the paper at her. Her eyes were wide, her face pale.
“What?” Calli asked, her heart skittering. War? Assassination? Nick!
She grabbed the paper and held it so she could scan the front page. It had to be a front page headline.
It was.
Calli dropped onto the officechair that Joshua had never got around to moving out of the room, her legs draining of strength. She let the paper fall on her knees, staring at the headlines and the terrible picture beneath.
The headline was in fifty point font. Screaming.
The picture. Her gaze drew back to the picture. It was grainy—a telephoto lens at the least and the actual picture enlarged to enhance the details. Theblack and white didn’t help either. She had seen dozens of “candid” shots like this on the covers of cheap tabloids at supermarket checkouts.
She’d just never expected to see herself in one of them.
It was her and Nick at the pond, lying on the rock together. His hand rested on her breast and he was leaning over her, his features clear. Her hair, the long blonde hair, fanned out over the edgeof the rock, smoothed out by the water. Her leg, the one closest to the camera, was bent, hiding more than it revealed—a minor mercy.
Minnie crouched next to her. “Calli, my God, they’ll crucify Nick.”
Calli swallowed hard. She couldn’t cry. She didn’t feel anything. The enormity of the disaster was too much to take in all at once. Any vestige of shame she might have felt at being plasteredacross a national newspaper buck naked was swept away by the weight of the consequences to come.
