Chapter 18

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Chapter 18

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In preparation for the impending battle, Fortunates scale the trees. Skilled soldiers conceal their humanness under a layer of muddy slime. Only their yellow teeth, narrow eyes, and pointed knives remind us they are real. The remaining fistful of teens and young adults standing in plain sight earn the name of infantry and are instructed to act as the first line of defense. Unfortunately, I'm in the infantry.

The leader, an eighteenish acne-faced boy, orders me to guard the east end of the soon-to-be battlefield. I balk. The blood drains from my face as he shoves a crude stone-blade in my palm.

"I don't fight," I say as loud as I dare.

"Don't be stupid," he replies. "All Fortunates can fight. Don't fail us now."

He shoves me towards the rest of my group. Slowly, I walk to them, all the while contemplating how easy it would be to vanish into the foliage. I truly would if I was certain of where the Raider's were coming from. But, as of now, they could have us surrounded for all anyone knows.

It's better to wait.

My fingers shakily hold the makeshift knife. Most likely the Raiders will charge for us head-on, creating a face-to-face battle. A battle where if you can't move fast enough, or wield your weapon with at least some skill, you'll become the next corpse lying on the ground.

I take a ragged breath, silently congratulating myself for making it this far.

Adonis would be proud.

A hand lands on my shoulder. Fahim towers behind me, and on his face sits a manic grin that's more than a little unsettling. 

"I've been waiting for this night. We'll finally make those Raiders pay for everything."

I nod halfheartedly, ignoring the itch in my legs that warns me to run.

"Isn't it impossible to fight and defeat Raiders?" I venture softly, hoping to help him see sense.

Fahim wears an incredulous look.

"For Entitleds and Privelages, sure. Not Fortunates. I'd say we are actually better than the Raiders in combat."

My eyebrows rise. Is this the same Fahim from the beginning of the ninety days? Is this the same Fahim from just a day ago? I drop my gaze, searching for creeping forms in the shadows' depths along the clearing. The beat of my heart picks up pace and queasiness sneaks in once more.

These may be my last moments alive.

Everyone around me surges on a war high. Their fast, excited breaths taunt. Their shared, jubilant smiles only enforce the perfect picture of insanity. To a stranger, it would seem that they have won already. But I've seen what Raiders really do. I wonder if any of these Fortunates were there during the massacre behind the city walls.

Do they really want that to happen again?

"Fahim," I say, staring firmly ahead, "When you make it back (I choose not to say if), can you tell my brother Adonis I love him? Can you tell him I tried to be strong?"

He squeezes my shoulder.

"You're not going to die."

"You can't know that for sure."

He quiets.

"Just promise me that you will."

"I promise," he whispers. "Tell me what he looks like."

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