The Last Few Dollars

Chapter 6

And as Harper's arms wrap around me, pulling me to him, I turn so that my face is buried in the crook of his neck so that he can't see me cry. My mind is a whirlwind of emotions; relief, fear, anticipation. But, possibly the most terrifying of them all, is a shred of hope, something that I haven't felt for a number of years, something that makes me feel even more afraid.

"Me too," Harper whispers back.

And that's how we stay until the fatigue overcomes me, and I fall asleep, still wrapped in Harper's warm embrace, my face still hidden, and a steady stream of tears falling down my cheeks.

---

"You're insane."

A smile crosses my face at the casual teasing. It's been a few days since I made my decision, and Thunder has been working closely with several people within our little community, Harper and myself surprisingly included in that number, developing a plan of attack for the greenhouses. Knowing their layout and the rotation schedule of the guards is a huge advantage, and it makes me wonder how long those men spent watching them to create that.

I refuse to consider any alternatives as to how they got the information.

Even though the world has been undeniably cruel to so many of us, murder and other crimes like it sit poorly with me. Being reminded of anything to do with the mortality of humans, of the cold-hearted ease with which those government people disposed of my parents, makes me uncomfortable, at best. And maybe that makes me a bad person, but with the way my life has turned out, I can't find it in myself to care.

"Yet you're not denying that my plan is the best one we have," I say, my tone as light-hearted as his, but my meaning literal. Harper frowns, clearly understanding.

"Maybe," he allows. "But is a resistance movement really the best way to go about it?"

"Harper, if we don't do something, we're going to be living like this forever," I explain. "Knowing that those that come after us will have to live in the same world that we do now, I can't handle that."

I've never thought about having children. If I lived in a different world, one where there were so many ways other than old age to die, so many more dangers, maybe things would be different. But I can barely keep myself alive, so attempting to bring up a child in this kind of environment would be a death sentence for both of us.

"It's not our problem." Harper says flatly. Anger suddenly rushes through me, but I take a deep breath, pushing it down again.

"If everyone thought like that, we'd be screwed." I say.

"Because we aren't already," he points out. I scowl at him.

"Maybe we are," I admit darkly. "But if we don't do something, there's a very real possibility that nothing will ever change. Knowing what you've been through, and me knowing what I've gone through - would you be able to live with yourself, go through your final moments before death, knowing that you've allowed that to happen to innocent people?"

"This is because of that pesky thing called a conscience, right?" Harper says, his tone going back to teasing again. "That's why you're insisting on starting a revolution?"

"It's not a revolution, for God's sake!" I say. "It's just a show of defiance to the government, our way of showing them that they don't get to have total control over everything."

Harper looks... appreciative, to say the least. He stays still for a few moments, a contemplative expression on his face, before he nods.

"It could work," he says slowly. "Obviously, it'll need to be developed, but it's a good idea."