Chapter 26: Chapter 26

“It takes us another day to reach Resistance. What scares my mom the most isn’t the planes soaring above or the thunderous roar of trucks on the road when they get too close. It’s the landscape.

“Everywhere we go, it’s the same. Flattened, reduced to rubble, and covered in ash. Everything’s been burned and destroyed. There’s no sign of life. The only life is us and the enemies hunting us.”

“Sanoske explains how tough it is to find someone in Albion. How easy it is to vanish into Albion, like disappearing into a vast ocean.

“You suddenly feel so small, so insignificant in such a large and overwhelmingly uniform space.

“A small group of men, always on the move, their tracks through the ash erased by wind and rain, becomes almost impossible to find. So we aren’t caught.”

“Though my mom doesn’t know it at the time, we’re heading south. Planes become more frequent, and in the distance, my mom sees Foreigner planes dropping bombs and chasing Albion planes.

“The soldiers watch the fighting with a grim look. Albion’s enemies, in most cases, are also their enemies. There are no real alliances. No one trusts anyone. Everyone is on their guard.

“My mom would never have guessed it was a city when we step into the streets. It’s dusk, the sunlight is disappearing on the horizon, casting the world in an eerie purple light.

“The city has been completely flattened. The only buildings left standing sag heavily with gaping holes. The rest are in towering piles of rubble. The city continues in its destructive state as far as the eyes can see.

“We walk through the ghost city silently in single file. The men look ahead, but my mom stares at the rubble, her eyes wide. Plaster, concrete, glass, plumbing cover the streets.

“Every so often, there’s a long broken refrigerator, a television set, a small bed decorated with stickers of fairies that somehow haven’t faded yet.

“Bodies lay in the streets as well. Not many, mostly men, soldiers from a century ago who died evacuating the city, their bodies preserved under the ash.

“The Japanese soldiers look down at them with no hostility and an almost brotherly fondness. My mom stops to pick up a strip of leather. A piece of shiny metal dangles from the leather.

“She holds it up to the soldiers. One of them, the one who almost killed her, stops by her side to gaze at the dog collar. On the collar is written Lexie 020 7956 4572.

“The soldier looks at the collar over her shoulder, then purses his lips and walks past her. My mom hesitates, then pushes the collar deep into her pocket and falls back in line with the soldiers.

“We stop by a river. It rushes wildly through the city. It’s a murky mixture of water and ash that swarms and roars, overflowing into the streets where the banks have been destroyed.

“The soldiers stop as they round the corner of what used to be a street. A small stream courses through it. Sanoske drops his bags and pulls out a white stick.

“My mom watches in wonder as he draws a circle on the ground. He gets up and jogs across the street where he draws another circle.

“Then he picks his bag up again, and we continue down another street. Every so often, another circle is drawn.

“Eventually, when the sun has almost set, we take refuge in a sagging building. The building once had thick walls, but they’ve been flattened and the bricks scattered.

“The building itself is small, thick, and stumpy. It stands with a gaping hole in one side and no roof. The river courses by uneasily, crashing against a broken bridge that lays against the bank.

“My mom and the soldiers pick their way into the building. My mom stops again to pick up a black object, big in her hands, and light. She brushes away the ash and stares in wonder.

“It’s burned black. What look like eye sockets are empty, and juice from eyeballs has melted down the body. She drops it in horror with a small shriek.

“The soldier who almost killed her crouches down and places the creature on top of a brick. He glances up at my mom.

“‘It’s a raven,’ he tells her. ‘A bird. In the old days, there was a legend about the ravens in this place. They said that the tower would fall and the kingdom would not outlive the last raven.’

“My mom stares at the dead raven. The Japanese soldier stands up and places his hand on her shoulder. She trembles slightly under his touch.

“‘It seems the legend was true. The kingdom has fallen. For centuries the ravens were there, but even they couldn’t survive this war.’ He gives the bird a slight nod, then pushes my mom into the destroyed tower.

“We set up camp for the first time. A small fire is set, sleeping bags are pulled out and placed around the fire. Food is passed around, and the men begin to talk animatedly, laughing and telling stories.

“My mom watches them, sitting in the crook of the broken building. The river swarms below her. She grips the bricks tightly.

“The soldiers fascinate her. For days and nights, she’s traveled with them, but she’s never seen them live before. Around the fire, they look human. They share their food and eat greedily like pregnant women in nurseries.

“My mom can’t understand their words, so she watches their faces. They’re animated with smiles and laughter. Sanoske seems to be in the middle of them. He tells stories that have them roaring with laughter.

“The one who almost killed my mom sits by his side, grinning ear to ear. His hair is longer than Sanoske’s. He pulls it back with a leather thong at the nape of his neck.

“The shadows of the fire dance against their faces dramatically. Suddenly feeling out of place, my mom turns to face the destroyed city.

“She watches in silence as the sun sets and the rubble is cast in the shadows of the night. The horizon is lit with the red bombing, planes circle in the sky, chasing each other, falling to the earth, burning.

“But the city is silent. The silence of the dead. My mom pulls out the collar in her pocket and looks at it. She doesn’t understand it, doesn’t know what it is. But she knows it’s a relic of the past.

“Despite Albion, these long-dead people who built and lived in this city were her ancestors. A part of them is also a part of her.

“Despite the fact that she’s a product of generations of inbreeding, she can’t help but feel a pang in her heart as she gazes at the ruined city. She knows it was once teeming with life, with people, with mothers and their children.

“Her family, they’re all gone. The Masters didn’t even bother to remove their bodies, didn’t even give them a proper cremation.

“Their bodies are strewn across Albion, left to gather ash on the shattered landscape until they’re eventually incinerated by a falling plane and finally turned to ash.”

***

I don’t notice him coming up to me, but suddenly he’s there, crouching next to me on the edge of the building. He’s taken off his balaclava, and his dark hair curls against the nape of his neck and falls into his deep-set, dark eyes.

The fire behind us casts shadows under his sharp cheekbones and finely sculpted chin. Sanoske looks at me, then lets out a sigh.

“How are you?” he asks.

“I never really got the phoenix before,” I confess. “I was told it was a creature that was burned and reborn from its ashes, like Albion. But to me, Albion was everything. There was no past; the past was all war.

I gesture to the ruined city. “But now, this is the past. This was life. There was a past here, I can see it, I can touch it. I understand that there’s an end to Albion. There has to be.”

I look at him, my eyes wide. He’s staring at the murky river below us.

“I’ve only ever known war too,” he says softly. “My parents and their parents as well. So there was never anyone to tell me about the times before.

“My country, it’s like this one. An island off the coast of a massive landmass. That’s what made our countries so strong and helped them endure for so long.

“My country cherishes its past. It’s our pride. I know about past times, about times centuries ago, long before the war. It’s hard to picture them.”

He pauses, then continues with a grim look on his face.

“When I was five, a Brazilian plane bombed my village. It’s just a small fishing village. I had a sister. She was older than me. She was very beautiful.

“When the plane landed and the soldiers came out, one of them grabbed her. They took her away, and she was screaming. My mother hid me and my little brother on our boat and pushed us out onto the water.

“We watched our village burn. We heard the screams. I was so scared. So scared of watching. I recognized my sister’s scream. It echoed in my ears.

“My father had gone to war. The village was mostly empty of men. The women were defenseless. When the soldiers finally left, half of the village’s population had been wiped out.

“I was the one who found my sister’s body. She was naked. I didn’t understand what had happened to her at the time, but I saw the blood and I knew they had killed her.

“When I was eight, there was another raid. And another again when I was fifteen. After that one, I left home.”

Sanoske looks me in the eye. “I will always remember the image of my sister. War changes us. The men you met weren’t the same when I met them. I’ve fought on the battlefields, in the sky, and on the ocean.

“Everywhere you go, men turn into monsters. The war destroys us all.”

“I don’t know much about the world, but I think I understand your pain. Watching people march off to their deaths. It almost seems like life is pointless.”

“Those soldiers you slept with?” he asks.

I glance at him. He’s frowning. “Yes.”

“Sleeping with them. A different one each night. It would be prostitution, but you’re not getting paid. You’re just doing it, which makes it worse. You see it as creating life, don’t you? There’s another side to it.”

He clears his throat and runs his fingers through his hair.

“I know,” I whisper. He looks at me in surprise. I shrug one shoulder. “How could I not know? My Master didn’t want me for my sense of humor.”

He smiles faintly, staring out at the water.

“You didn’t kill me. Or you didn’t let me die, at the nursery. You saved me.” I breathe. “I never understood why.”

“A woman and a child. Innocence. Most people in this war are innocent. You can’t easily pick out the guilty ones,” he admits as he leans against the side of the crumbling wall.

“There are a lot of people who have died for nothing, aren’t there?” I murmur.

He nods slowly. “This place was the capital of this land. It was the second city in the world to be hit. Nuclear bomb. That’s why it’s so destroyed.

“But there are other places across the ocean. A city called Washington, D.C., was hit, and a place called Hong Kong. And Tokyo in my county, and nearby in Pyongyang. And Brasilia and Dubai.

“That’s why our world is so destroyed today. It couldn’t handle so many explosions so close together. So many people died.”

He tosses a small piece of rubble into the water below us. Then he turns back to me. “But somehow you survived on dead land for five months? How did you do that?”

“Not alone,” I admit. “I almost died. For all I know, I might have. Workers took me in and cared for me. I tried working for them, but there’s no real way to repay someone for your life.”

I look at him pointedly. He gives me a small smile.

“You’re searching for your daughter.”

“Yes,” I nod firmly. “I need to find Beth. I can’t let her live the same life as I did.”

“Why not?”

I glance at him in surprise. “Because it’s fake.”

“But what other life can you offer her? This?” He waves his hand toward the destroyed city. “Living day to day with soldiers? Is that any safer?”

I pivot away from him, and he lets out a deep sigh. “I get it, you want to save her. But you need to think this through. Establish a life first, then go after her.”

“Establish a life?” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Like the one you’ve got? Spending every day with soldiers?” I retort.

He grins at me. “I know why I’m here. I’m just saying, if you want to stick around, you can. You’ve shown that you’re tough to take down. You just need to find something worth fighting for.”

“Beth.”

“Sure. But there’s more to it. There’s a whole world out there worth fighting for.”

“So what’s your fight?” I ask.

He looks at me, then beyond me at the water. He shrugs one shoulder. “I’m a soldier. It’s what I do. You’re not a soldier. You need to find your motivation,” he responds.

“Then I’ll fight for freedom,” I declare.

He grins. “You’re innocent but driven. Tomorrow we head to Resistance. But tonight, I think you should meet my guys. I don’t think you’ve been properly introduced.”

I glance back at the men gathered around the fire, laughing. I look at Sanoske with wide eyes. He chuckles.

“Don’t worry, they’re fond of you. It’s been a while since we’ve had any women around. I know these guys. They enjoy having you here, they enjoy looking out for you. Let them.

“It reminds them what they’re fighting for. The women back home, sisters and lovers.”

Sanoske rises smoothly and extends his hand to me. I take it gently, and he helps me to my feet.

Sanoske introduces each of the thirty-seven soldiers present. The one who almost took me out, I learn, is Kazuya, Sanoske’s right-hand man. There’s Shin and Akira, who are also high-ranking, just below Kazuya.

The rest are private-ranked soldiers. But Sanoske assures me that they’re the best-trained soldiers in the Japanese army, that one of his guys is worth ten regular soldiers.

He tells me he’s the leader of an elite group who have trained and fought together for years and who would die for each other. The men nod in agreement, their faces serious.

Once the meal is done and the fire is extinguished, Sanoske orders his men to hit the sack. They grumble and joke but all obediently crawl into their sleeping bags.

Lookouts are arranged for the night, and eventually everyone settles in. Sanoske takes a corner. Despite the other lookout, he wraps himself in his sleeping bag and clutches a long sword in his hands, his gaze fixed on the water.

I wrap my clothes tightly around me and find a corner that shields me from the wind that’s picked up. I close my eyes and rest my head against the wall.

Someone clears his throat. My eyes snap open, and I see Kazuya squatting in front of me. He gives me a small smile.

“You’ll freeze sleeping there, not moving. The night will get really cold, and you could get sick,” he warns me.

I stare at him, wide-eyed. “Oh.”

“Come to my sleeping bag. I don’t have watch tonight, so you can sleep undisturbed,” he offers. Before I can decline, he grabs my wrist and pulls me to my feet and leads me to his sleeping bag.

“There’s no need. I don’t want to impose,” I tell him.

He looks down at me and chuckles. “Don’t be scared of me. I won’t hurt you,” he assures me. “Take off your jacket and shoes. The sleeping bag will be plenty warm.”

I nod and do as he says. He watches as I place my revolver in my boots by the sleeping bag. Then he holds the sleeping bag open, and I slide in.

He slips in behind me and zips it closed around us. I feel his arms lightly encircle my waist. His hands don’t wander, and for that I’m thankful.

His breath is steady against the back of my neck. He holds me gently, selflessly, like Liam used to. And so I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.