What the Rebels Want: Maxon & America Schreave

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The "Mission"

"Call Aspen right away... Yes, it's an emergency... Yes General Aspen. Alert Maxon immediately as well... No, it's not a medical emergency. Yes, if he's in a meeting interrupt. Both of them."

Before they came, thoughts sprung to my head. The rebel group came to me. Was it safe for me to go? After all they did...

Maxon and Aspen both came, both red-faced from running across the palace. Maxon wrapped his arms around me. "Oh, America. I thought you were hurt," he murmured into my hair. "Is everything okay? What is that," he motioned to my hand. He grabbed it and unfolded it. Then I remembered the letter specifically said for Maxon to not see it.

"Maxon!" I grabbed it out of his hands and pulled it to my stomach. "That's private." Maxon's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. I could see him thinking about asking, but he respected it and didn't say anything. Aspen glanced between both of us. "I need to go to the warehouse. A.S.A.P."

"Does that," Maxon pointed to the letter in my right hand, "have anything to do with it?"

I looked away. "It doesn't matter. If she thinks she needs to go, than so be it," Aspen interjected. I glanced a look of gratitude in his direction. He nodded his head in response.

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The large metal-plated door swung open without a noise, slowly at a constant speed with no one pulling on it, simply doing it on its own. Behind that door came another door, which also swung open. I looked uncertainly behind me to Marie Ash, who had her head down. I turned back to the front, looks like I'm in this alone.

I walked through the final door (there was only two, but still more than I expected) and continued down a hallway, turned right, and met with two women.

"Hi America Schreave." A chill ran through me, that last name got me every time. I could just scream it from rooftops: Schreave!

"Hi," I took out my hand to shake hers. She grabbed my hand and briskly shook it. The women was wearing a white blouse under a business suit, with heels under the pants that just barely poked out.

"My name is Gloria Turrey. Welcome to the Women Equality Organization. Marie," she nodded her head. Marie walked past me and continued down the pathway until my eyes could no longer follow her. And just like that, the only person I kind of trusted left. "I'm so glad you decided to join us. Let's go to my office, a lot of other people are there who want to meet you."

She seemed pretty gracious for a rebel group leader who constantly tried to kill innocent people in attacks that usually succeeded. I tried to hate her, but my conscience told me not to. My brain told me to trust her, or at least get to know her before I claimed whether she was guilty of murder.

She lead me down the hallway and opened the door for me into a conference room, where about 10 other women sat waiting, speaking in hushed tones. The room turned silent as Gloria closed the door behind us.

There was a giant oval table in the middle of the room, with unmarked whiteboards on the sides. Florescent lights lined the ceiling, but were dimmed to a color that would not burn into the depths of my skull.

She gestured to a seat at the head of the table, and I quickly sat. She followed my example and opened a binder at her fingertips, skimming through a long list of words. "There are a lot of things I want to talk about today, so if we could get started right away that would be great."