Chapter 8.1

I looked over to the man and my heart stopped. No, it couldn't be, they, they took him away. He can't be alive. The Dead Heads took him away years ago, he couldn't have survived. Ever have your world turned upside down by something so amazing you can't help but just stop breathing for a minute? That heart stopping moment when something happens and you can't breathe anymore. It felt a little like that, only a hundred times worse. All of the air had vanished from my chest but my lungs refused to draw any more oxygen from the air around me.

He reached out, his hand cupping my cheek and just like that, I could breathe again. He was real, I wasn't imagining things. Tears welled up in my eyes as I felt my lip begin to quiver. I reached up and touched his hand, feeling the rough skin under my fingers. A tear rolled down my cheek and I felt his arm wrap around my shoulder. He pulled me to his chest and I wrapped my arms around him.

"Father?" I whispered. The word felt foreign on my lips. I never expected to say it again. No to someone, not to him. He died, he died year ago in a gas chamber or something. I know he did. I'm just imagining this now, I'm dreaming, lying in bed, he isn't real. He can't be real. He just can't.

"Tawny," he said.

"You have a kid?" Vincent asked.

Oh yeah, I'm standing in front of three hundred political prisoners, dead heads and god knows how many resistance members. I pushed away from him, stumbling a little as I broke free from his grasp.

"Yeah, I couldn't go back for her," my father said. "Tawny, I have some things to oversee, but I want to catch up with you. Ride with me?"

I felt frozen, my jaw moved up and down but I couldn't form words. "Um...I...can I?" I finally managed to croak out looking to Addison or Vicki for help.

"What she means to say is, she has work to do," Addison said.

"I do?" I asked whirling to face her.

She nodded. "You have a prisoner to deal with, remember?"

When did someone say I had to do that? I looked between the two women and my father. Before I could respond, Addison looped her arm through mine and began to pull me away. I staggered after her and she directed me towards the group of prisoners we had taken. "Get your girl, take her to the truck," she hissed.

I bent down and took the woman's restraints, pulling her to her feet. Her feet moved sluggishly under her as Addison grabbed one of the men and yanked him up. We started walking towards one of the trucks where bars ran along the inside and two other prisoners already sat inside with black bags over their head.

"What was that-" I started.

Addison shook her head. "Not now," she said. The man in her grasp began to struggle, digging his feet into the rocky ground and buckling his knees. Addison shook her head and pulled the man back to his feet. The man lashed out backwards with his head and Addison cried out, losing her grip on. The man took off running for the mountains. A muted pop from behind me cut through the air and the man collapsed. A spray of pink mist coming from his head. A pair of resistance members walked over and grabbed the corpse.

The woman in my grasp screamed and tried to jerk away from me. I just barely managed to tighten my grip before she took off running as well. If she ran the same thing would happen to her. The dead soldier got thrown into the back of the truck with the other prisoners. I looked down to see Addison holding her nose with blood gushing down her face.

"Bastard," she spat getting up. She jerked her nose resulting in a sickening pop and a fresh gush of blood. "Get her in the truck."

Addison stormed off, muttering swears under her breath the entire time. I led my woman over and the man guarding the end of the truck slipped the bag over her head. He took her and pulled her up into the bed. I looked back to see Nick and Vicki leading the last two prisoners, both more subdued than they had been getting off the train, to the truck.

"What's her problem?" I asked Vicki.

"I'll explain later," she said. I waited as their prisoners got loaded, one by one into the back of the truck. Looking out over the freed political prisoners, I felt a smile cross my lips. The young ones helped the older walk over to trucks or four wheelers. The strong ones were given rifles in groups as a resistance member directed them around.

"Mount up!" a shout called out. Simultaneously, the vehicle engines roared to life. The very young, the injured, the sick, and the weak were piled into the back of the covered trucks, some with legs dangling out over the back. The rest, probably close to two hundred and fifty people, were walking and very few had shoes. Some of the smaller children were up on their father's or brother's backs with their arms around their neck.

"Here, walk with me and I'll explain what's got Addison all riled up," Vicki said. She set off jogging and I followed her as we stood on the edge of the group. She held her rifle laxly, keeping the barrel directed at the ground and away from me. As the trucks began to roll forward, we started walking.

"When Addison first came to the resistance after running away from her father, the cold hearted bastard, the first person she met was your father. At that time, he was just a foot soldier and really leery of military and their family. Cause what better way to infiltrate the resistance than with a family member? Well, he treated her rather harshly for a while before he walked in on her."

"Walked in on her?" I asked.

Vicki smiled. "Well, more us," she said. "Addison is bi, she's currently with Vincent. But at the time, we were both new in the resistance and a little shy. But we grew close and then very close. Your father walked in on us kissing and she is a damn good kisser. Remind me one day and I'll get her drunk enough to kiss you. So, your father walks in on us and Addison turned so red before she ran out of the room rather hastily. Your fathers reaction was the kicker though, he watched her run past him, looked back at me as I tucked some loose hair back and said 'huh' and left. Hasn't said a harsh word to Addison since, but she doesn't like him."

"Oh," I said. Does she talk about me like that when I'm not around? I mean, she thought I was dead and she moved on. I shouldn't feel like this. I mean, I moved on too, kind of. Did she talk about me when I was in the hospital or after around here?

"Now don't sound like that, you're a much, much better kisser," Vicki said nudging my side.

I shied away from her elbow with a giggle. Can she read minds? I looked down and away, trying to hide the rush of blood to my cheeks.

"I can't be that good of a kisser," I said.

"Have you ever kissed yourself?" Vicki said.

"Is that possible?" I asked.

Vicki pursed her lips for a moment and furrowed her eyebrows. "Why not?" she suggested. I shook my head and laughed. I looked around to see the liberated people walking, some little children sitting on men's shoulders and others walking clutching hands with an adult. The entire convoy moved slowly, crawling through the mountain pass while everyone with a gun kept their eyes up at the ridges.

"Did you know he was my father?" I asked.

"Captain Nosstri? I know he had a kid, a daughter he had to leave behind, but I assumed she went to the camp with his wife," Vicki said.

"Did my mother come in with him?" I asked.