Chapter Twenty- Four*

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    As I looked around, I noticed some of them were roughed up and some weren't. Gale was one of the ones who'd remained unharmed. Maybe he gave up the act and decided to do the right thing. I decide to ask why some of them were bruised and bloodied and some not.

"We have reason to believe that the man we killed wasn't actually the leader of Article1. We thought we'd got him, but all of this continued. He wasn't working alone and we need to figure out why", he explains, looking around. "The ones you see who are bloodied, most of them anyway, have been interrogated already. We don't waste much energy on each, but just to show we mean business and we won't give up. We'll go through one by one to figure out what we need".

   "That's why I'm here", I say, my eyes finding a curly haired girls. She wasn't beaten but for a small scar the top of her head. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place it. "To help get information?".

  Holland tenses and I realize all hope is gone. I thought maybe I'd keep my hands clean aside from a couple half hearted punches. "That's presidential matter. That part I can't discuss", he says, giving me a pitied expression.

  I glance back towards the corner of the room, where Gale hung. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be dreaming. His body jerked lightly occasionally, but stayed sound.

"Let's start easy, I'll let you watch first", he says, picking a random red headed boy and pulling him to the side. There was another pole there, but this one had a seat in front of it. It was enough away from the other poles so it couldn't be overhead, but it was still on display for the others.

He ties him to the pole in front of the chair and sits down. "You know why you're here?", he asks, tilting his head. The red head shakes his head, a sob ripping through. "Oh this one's gonna be fun", he sighs, sending a sharp right hook to the man's face. I gasp, putting a hand over my mouth and Holland gives me a look. I blush, looking on.

  "I just was hanging out with friends!", he pleads, trembling. The clothes they'd been wearing were torn and dirty, having been from last night. "We were partying and my friends kept mentioning the signs on the wall, but- but I didn't know anything!".

   Holland goes to throw another hook and I grab his hand. "Wait!", I shout. "He could be telling the truth! Do you want to hurt an innocent person?".

  A strong arm grabs me by the shoulder and rips me all the way up the stairs, into the sunlight. My dad throws me on to the grass, throwing his hands up. "What the fuck was that?!", he screams at me, his face blood red. "You're suppose to be helping us! Not trying to fuck everything up!".

  "I'm sorry!" I say, standing to my defense and wiping off my suit. "He had no right to hit him! He didn't have anything to do with Article1!"

  He slaps me across the face, hard. "Article1 is half the battle, Tyler!", he screams again, this time spit hits my face. "This is about eliminating the sick fucks parading around this country! That's what this is about! Article1 or not, that man is gay and deserves to die!".

   The words that haunted me and followed me everywhere I go. I don't have anything to say. He's right.  I forgot myself, what I was suppose to do.

   I finally nod, whispering an apology. He softens and brushes the dirt off the front of my suit. "Thank you, I'm sorry about", he begins, pointing to my cheek. I'd forgotten about it, but the stinging was fierce. "Now, did Holland go over everything with you?", he asks as we descend back to he lions den.

  A man greets us as we walk in, and I look around to see where he might've been before. "I'm general Nathaniel, it's a pleasure", he says, reaching for my hand. I shake it, swallowing hard. "I'm here to run down what happens when we find the leader".

I open my mouth to reply, to question it but he's called over by somebody else. "Where are these people coming from?", I ask, looking beside of me at my father.  "The soldiers? They weren't here when we came in".

"There's a back room, it has a lock on it with the weapons and the proof", he explains, waving my question off. "Anyway, it's inaccessible unless you're a general, or have special permission".

I nod, following along with him and trying to ignore the hateful glares thrown my way. I hadn't even began to do my part, and they already hated me. If only they could just see.

   Holland comes to find me soon after, his knuckles now bloody and bruised. "I'm sorry if I-", I begin, looking down.

"No apology, I imagine your dad set you straight, guessing on that mark on your cheek", he says. I blush, covering it with one hand. Daddy's punishment for his disobedient son. "So, since you're all good and you know the way we do things. How about it?".

  I take a breath. He was asking if I was ready to do my own interrogation.

No

Yes

Never

Maybe?

"Who were you thinking?", I ask, biting my lip. There was only a handful left. All he had to do was not say

"The military brat in the corner" , he says, pointing  to the boy I once knew

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