Fight. Fought. Finished. (Sequel to Gone. Done. Over.)

Chapter 4

I soon found myself, once again, enduring the eternal hell of: The Courtyard. Now that I'd met some of the young women and their parents...it was harder. Each time the auctioneer stated: "SOLD!" My gut twisted. Jed took me to The Castra for several more nightly meetings-though he was reluctant to leave Saia's side. I loved their rebellious spirit. It was both convicting and empowering. Their words returned to me at each of the auctions. They made me want to stand up and yell or slug George Winston in his fat face. At the same time, however, I was reserved.

"Soon," Mr. Shore stated one night, lifting his mug to his lips.

"Definitely," Mr. Curtis agreed. I actively avoided them. They tended to ask questions which I did not have to answers for. This night was no exception. I joined Hinton Bakes, Steven Ellow, and Jed at another table.

"I know it's a long shot, but I think Melloette's ready," Steven was saying as I approached. "And this whole auction thing will be a great kick-off."

"I agree. It's-," Jed started. I sat down beside him and he stopped.

"Hale," Steven nodded to me and then rose to refill his mug. I had the feeling they had stopped talking because of me.

"So, what's going on?" I asked, attempting to pick up the conversation thread.

"We're just discussing how much longer until we can get the girls out," Jed explained.

"Yeah...We're just waiting for the perfect opportunity now, right?" I asked as silence threatened its return.

"We think we have it-the last test, at least," Jed stated. "Teklate is visiting Melloette for a couple of days. We're hoping he'll stop by The Courtyard and see what your dad is doing."

"I see," I said. If Teklate saw the auction, there would be a chance that he might stop it.

"We better get going," Jed stated. I followed him up to the street, my thoughts buzzing. 'We might be able to conclude this whole problem within a week.'

"You're on dishes tonight, Gentry," Jed said as we came up to the gates of The Courtyard. I did not even argue. Sure it was a chore, but it also allowed me to think. After leaving Jed, I headed toward the kitchen. The floor creaked and Megan came towards me. She had changed over the last week. She stood more confidently and listened with great interest to me and Jed's schemes. Every once in a while, adding a suggestion or so. The same fire burned in her eyes as in Steven's. I assumed this is what she was like before the rebellion.

"Goodnight," she said quietly.

"Yeah," I said, brushing the curtain aside to enter the kitchen.

Clink. I glanced up to see Abigail standing at the sink and froze. It was too late to leave without making the situation awkward, but staying possibly made it worse. She glanced back at me, her hair bouncing over her shoulders and then focused her attention on the dishes.

"You don't have to do that," I stated, walking up beside her. "I was just coming in to-."

"It's alright. You're going to get us out. I might as well return the favor," she said, not even looking up.

"I-." Suddenly, I felt like a failure. Could I really save them? All this talk of rebellion was great, but...when it came right down to it, would I be strong enough? I had heard Steven speak of Gadeloff's rebellion. That was slightly different and bigger for it was a city and we were only rebelling in a store, but it did not feel different. It felt like war.

"Do you have any idea when we'll get out?" Abigail asked. I didn't really want to tell her in fear that I would not be able to keep my word. "Not sue. Hopefully within the next weeks," I forced myself to say. She deserved to know.

"Seriously?" Abigail stopped. She turned to me, her hands still resting in the sink which was full of warm water.

"Ah, yeah," I said, unsure if she was excited, hurt, or angry. Staring down at the wood-planked floor, I itched my nose.

"YES!" Abigail exclaimed. My heart jumped. She wrapped me in a hug, but quickly retracted her arms. "Sorry, my hands are still wet," Abigail apologized, her eyes set on her hands. Her cheeks turned red to the roots of her silky hair. I studied her face-her cute nose and the freckles sprinkled across it. She looked up at me as if to see if I was still here, but-seeing I was-dropped her gaze. For a moment is was Abigail and Hale standing there, but then the time ended and it was back to the dead Kristina and the murderer, Hale. I technically had killed Kristina. It was my fault she was dead.

"So you got this covered?" I asked, attempting to change the subject.

"Oh, um...yeah," she answered, something like disappointment made its appearance in her tone and countenance.

"Well g'night," I said and turned to leave, but something felt unsaid or undone.

"Good-night." Abigail's words were broken. I almost felt the need to tell her about the entire "Last Time" scenario and how she reminded me of...well: Failure. Every time I saw or spoke to Abigail it was as if I was facing Kristina's ghost. It seemed unfair to go on without the explanation, but I headed back to my room anyway-all the time a feeling of guilt curling in my stomach.

That night I lay, carving in my bed by candlelight. My thoughts swarmed with the coming days and commitments which I'd made. If Abigail, Irwin, Megan, or Saia were sold, I would NEVER forgive myself. Steven's words from earlier resonated with me as well: "I know it's a long shot, but I think Melloette's ready. And this whole auction thing will be a great kick-off." 'A kick-off for what?' I wondered. He was the guy whose city was just crushed because of his actions. All I could do was hope that real rebellion would not spike here...