Chapter 24

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By the second day, I finally had the time and energy to tell Brie the whole story, from the beginning. Although I had trusted no one except Patterson with the secret of Alex, I was now trusting her. Hours of her silent stares wore me down. Besides, Brie had saved my life and rushed out of the Republic despite being wounded to keep Alex safe. She had earned the truth.

Brie listened without asking questions. She held the bottle, rocking Hope and humming. Her only response was to make me promise to tell Patterson. She admitted to being as confused as me. My baby curled his fingers around mine, sleeping. I named him André, remembering Alex's middle name. It seemed fitting, and I liked it, even though it sounded like such a Republic name.

We made it to a Q-station, which I had never been in before. It reminded me of a bomb shelter, only much nicer. Brie called in and reported that she was injured but healing. Joel must have known her well; he laughed when she said that she was fine. He ignored her and planned an EE on the edge of the Zone 2 border, about three days away.

We took the babies from our packs, washed them in the Med room, and gave them a full check-up and anti-viral shots. I snapped some pictures and got the footprint impressions. They reminded me of the twins. It was beautiful and felt familiar, so it hurt my heart a little. We must have stared at them for hours; a strange disparity, to feel so much joy after so much despair.

We reviewed combat moves in the evening. She insisted, and I figured she wanted to use exercise as a coping mechanism. I agreed to her request, only to get beaten ten times. I took a shower and cried. That was my coping mechanism.

By the next morning, we were out in the woods again. We had traveled quicker, stocked with supplies and having had a good meal. We had set up a sleeping schedule. One of us would sleep for six hours, the other would watch Hope and André. At 4 a.m., we switched, and one of us would sleep until 10 a.m. On day two of the journey from the Q-station, she made breakfast, woke me up, and then we moved out. We traveled for another fifteen miles.

Once again, I was perusing my MCU for the story of the Protector I had once quoted and made Collin upset. What instructor at the Academy had set Collin on his path with such passion that he couldn't abandon it? After a long day of walking and listening, I asked Brie if she knew. She said it was the 167th or the 165th Generation. She almost hesitated, looking at me nervously. I listened to the profiles as the evening wore on, rocking the babies and settling into the darkness of the woods.

I was about to give up when I got to the 19th Protector's profile and heard her most famous quote. "All of this begins and ends with you finding something worth dying for, then living for it."

There was nothing tragic. She had succeeded in all her missions. She had even opted to serve another year, just like Brie and Tessa. She seemed to have Lydia's compassion, Eva's quick remarks without the drama, and Brie's strength. Maybe it had nothing to do with her.

The MCU paused, like normal. I waited for the prompt to move to the next audio file, but instead, it asked, "Would you like to hear the post-career work file?"

I sat up straight. No file had ever included this option. The word "listen" blinked on my MCU, pulsating eerily, holding back whatever secret I had yet to discover and now wasn't sure I wanted to know. Had she taught at the Academy? Is that what it was about? I pushed the button.

The 19th Protector of 165th Generation had served two years with great success. During an off-season attempt to gain intelligence on a discovery she had made in the Republic, she was asked to return. The attempt failed, and a Sentry killed her for trespassing. The Tech assistant assigned to the investigation of her death was also killed in action—see file 459B. The only message Central ever received was three words: 'They are not.' There is further intelligence added to the case file, but many facts remain unknown. She was survived by her husband and child, two years old at the time of her death.

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