Chapter 55: Chapter 55

I’m lying on my chilly bench, gazing at the ceiling. Sometimes it seems to come alive. Sometimes it feels like it’s about to crush me. Other times, it opens up, and I can see the sky.

Sometimes I see Albion in the gray of the concrete. I see the lines of the white cliffs, I see Resistance and the school, the nursery where Beth was born.

I see the last place I saw Sanoske, when he watched Haruhiko and me slip away into the night.

I know he’s not dead. I can feel it. Just like I know Beth and Juliet are with Haruhiko and that he’s protecting them and will take them back to Sanoske.

I know Sanoske will care for the little girls. All the Kagegun men will dote on them. They won’t be able to help themselves. I smile at this.

I trace a line in the air from where I am in my cell, across the gray landscape, and all the way to Sanoske. Into his arms.

I close my eyes, ignoring the cold, hard bench. I let my imagination drift to Sanoske’s warm embrace, his soft kisses, his smile, his devotion.

I wonder if he thinks of me as well. I wonder if he’s connecting a line on an imaginary map to get closer to me.

I refuse to believe he is dead.

Jeremy visits me daily with water but no food. Even in the dead of the night, a Master’s orders aren’t ignored.

Well, they think this is bad, but the cell in Resistance was worse. Of course, I won’t tell them that.

I can just lie on my bench, close my eyes, and travel to the other side of Albion, where I know my family is safe. I smile and wipe away the treacherous tears that spill down my cheeks.

I don’t know how long I stare at my map.

***

“After the three days were up, Jeremy brought her food and spooned it to her slowly. She had trouble keeping some of it down. But he made sure she ate all she could before leaving her unshackled again.

“For days he stood guard by her cell door, listening to her soft breathing. When he peered through the little window, he could only see a sleeping woman.

“How she could possibly stand more of the torture he knew the Masters had prepared for her, he couldn’t imagine.

“Jeremy hadn’t seen many Traitors in his time guarding the cell. They had all been men, all soldiers who’d defected abroad. They’d all been brought back to Albion to be tortured, their death an example.

“He had never felt anything toward them but pity and anger. It was different with the woman now behind the bars. She didn’t have the physical resources to hurt any Master, any soldier.

“She did frighten him. Her words sliced through everything he had always believed about Albion, about Perfect women. And yet she needed his protection. He wondered how much longer she could stand.

“Outside, the construction of her stake had ended. She was going to be burned the next morning. They hadn’t told her, of course.

“They wouldn’t tell her until they pulled her out of the cell into the bright sunshine and latched her to the wood they’d saved especially for burning humans.

“It was a cold morning when Jeremy received the order. My mother was fast asleep. It was only last night that Masters Eric and David had tried beating answers out of her.

“Jeremy had done his best to clean her up and bandage her wounds with bandages he found himself swiping from the medical supplies. He didn’t tell anyone. It was the first time in his life that he had a secret.

“He was uneasy when they ordered him to prepare her for the stake. He’d seen trucks arriving in the days before. Masters, generals, nurses, teachers, all summoned to see the Traitor burn. It didn’t seem like a victory to him.

“And yet, he was a Perfect soldier, so he obeyed his orders. He shook her awake, albeit gently, and made sure she had something to eat and drink before he handed her a long gray dress.

“It was a thin dress, designed simply to insult the wearer with a low-cut neckline, a tear up the side of one leg, a waist too tight for comfort.

“The Masters wanted to present her as a treacherous woman who used her body as a whore, so she would be sent back to the ashes under a deluge of insults.

“They would not hold back, Jeremy knew this for sure. She hadn’t given them any of the information they had wanted out of her.

“She was holding out better than most Perfect soldiers ever did. And that was something else Jeremy couldn’t help but admire.

“After she changed, he watched as she pulled her hair back into a long braid that hung down her back. There was something elegant about her. The dress didn’t look insulting to him; it made her look even more beautiful.

“He was blushing as he approached her and placed the shackles on her bruised wrists. She only smiled at him. She knew where he was taking her. He’d seen her smiling to herself a lot lately.

“She didn’t remind him of the girl he’d spent a night with when he’d visited an establishment. She’d been very quiet and docile.

“He had always hoped that they’d made a perfect child that night, though he had no way of knowing.”

“It had been years. He didn’t even know what had happened to the girl. He hoped she was living happily in a nursery or an establishment.

“My mother was another sort of creature to Jeremy. She was the type of woman he didn’t know could exist. She was frail, hurt, alone. She needed his protection, and yet her core was hard as stone.

“She would never break for anything. He realized as he placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her out of her cell that he’d long stopped hating her for her crimes.

“And he realized that she’d never hated him. She’d only ever smiled at him.

“He walked slowly toward the front doors of the big house. From the windows, he could see the stake hoisted on a pile of dry branches.

“A few Masters and soldiers stood outside. They all wore gas masks for the benefit of the nurses and teachers inside, watching. By the door, he stopped and pulled his own mask on, then handed one to my mother.

“She just gave him a wry smile and shook her head. So he pushed open the front doors and guided her outside into the cool morning air.”

***

A chill races up and down my spine. The wind slices through the thin dress they’ve forced me to wear for my execution. I tilt my face towards the sky, catching a sliver of sunlight peeking through the clouds. Its warmth is a small comfort.

Behind me, I feel Jeremy falter. His fingers clutch the back of my dress as if he’s trying to hold me back. I glance over my shoulder at him, our eyes meeting through his gas mask.

His expression is one of despair. I want to reassure him, tell him I’m ready. I knew the moment I charged into battle that my odds of survival were slim.

My mission was to get Beth and Juliet to safety. And I succeeded.

Master David’s throaty cough draws my attention. Seven Masters stand in a line next to the stake, flanked by a few soldiers whose faces are impassive.

The Masters are all dressed in their uniform gray trench coats, their blond hair neatly combed back in identical styles. They’re all the same height, except for the elderly Master who sways slightly on his feet.

I glance at the building. Through the window, I can see the faces of teachers, nurses, and soldiers watching me. I can’t bear to look at their hate-filled expressions for long. Jeremy nudges me forward, his steps slow.

“Why isn’t she wearing a mask?” one of the Masters grumbles.

“She didn’t want one,” Jeremy answers quickly. “Sir,” he adds, correcting himself.

I steal a quick look at the horizon behind me. The flat gray land stretches on for miles. I imagine I can see the white cliffs and the ocean in the distance. I imagine Sanoske and Beth playing in the water.

I can’t help but smile.

Jeremy’s warm hand brings me back to reality as he unshackles my hands. I wonder for a moment if I want to be burned. I could run. I could easily slip from Jeremy’s grasp; he isn’t holding me tightly.

But I’d be shot. Instantly. Would that be a better death?

But being shot in the back isn’t the Kagegun way. They’d rather die by their own hand.

I won’t be given a knife to do the deed. Maybe climbing the stake will be my act of defiance, of strength. Returning to the ashes of Albion from which I was born. But I hate the thought of giving Eric exactly what he wants.

I catch his gaze through his gas mask. He’s shaking with anger. I lift my chin a little higher.

Maybe dying in front of him will hurt him more than it’ll hurt me. His obsession with me hasn’t waned, even after I’ve rejected him time and time again.

“Jeremy,” I say.

Jeremy stops walking immediately. I feel his hand on my back, sliding up to my shoulder. He turns me to face him.

“Alex.”

His gaze is intense. There’s pain there. He seems to have forgotten the Masters watching us. He’s back in the cell, when it was just the two of us and he was tending to my wounds.

“Thank you,” I say. I brush away a tear threatening to spill down my cheek. “I want to walk the rest of the way alone.”

He looks hurt, but he gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze and nods.

“If you ask me, I will run with you,” he whispers.

His words make my heart pound in my chest. This Perfect soldier is willing to save a Traitor. He’s willing to die for me.

I shake my head. “I won’t do that to you.”

“What are you two whispering about!” Eric snaps.

We both ignore him.

“I want to protect you,” Jeremy tells me.

“Let me protect you instead. And Jeremy, I want you to know, you’ve been my favorite.”

His tears fog up his gas mask. His grip on my shoulder tightens.

“But I won’t cry for them anymore. And I won’t be led to my death with a soldier. I will go alone.”

“I understand.” He exhales, and his hand slips away from me.

“Thank you, Jeremy.”

“I won’t forget you, Alexandra.”

“That’s all I ask.” I smile at him. Ignoring Master Eric, who breaks formation and marches towards us, I start towards my stake.

Jeremy stays behind. I feel his gaze on my back and Eric’s hatred from my right. I focus on the stake.

My heart starts to race, thundering in my chest, and I nearly stumble. It takes all my strength to swallow my tears, lift my chin, and grab hold of the pile of wood.

I pull myself up through the dead branches and onto the small platform at the base of the stake. The wood is cool and smells earthy. I wrap my arms around it.

The only sound is the wind whistling through the valley. None of the Masters speak.

I turn, gripping the stake with my good fingers. Jeremy still stands back, his eyes closed. I see him fidgeting with his shirt. He’s not standing at attention at all.

Behind me, a soldier ties my hands and pulls them up over my head, attaching them to the iron loop at the top of the stake. He jumps back down again.

“Traitor Alexandra 958,687,487.64.4.2.1.”

It’s the old Master speaking. His dull eyes move slowly up and down my body. Beside him, a soldier holds a flamethrower.

“You have been found guilty of treason, prostitution, and kidnapping. You have been sentenced to death, to burn until you are dead and your ashes return to replenish the fields of Albion.”

“I renounce my oath to Albion,” I reply. My gaze finds Jeremy’s, and I smile. “I regret nothing. It was an honor to be a Traitor.”

“Burn her,” the old Master scoffs.

Master Eric steps forward, his body shaking with rage. “Alex! Repent!” he shouts at me.

I smirk at him. “Never.”

The soldier with the flamethrower steps forward. I lift my chin to look at the horizon, at the blue sky and fluffy white clouds. I hear the click of the weapon, and I feel the heat of the flames as they surge towards me.