Price of a Bounty

  “If you'll trust me, I can take care of that.” Keira suddenly changed the subject, “You said you've done this before. You implied that you've done this before a lot. Do you always help pretty girls?”

  “I help whoever I can.” I spoke slowly. Surely she wanted me to help April.

  “Why did you give me an apartment? What about the money? Am I just another damsel in distress to you?”

  “You're no damsel in distress.” I closed the distance between us and gently placed my hands on her shoulders. “I gave you an apartment because you needed a place to stay, and I know how much you liked that whirlpool bath.” I noticed the start of a smile toying at the corners of her mouth. “I'm paying you a stipend because you've chosen to work for the Resistance. You should be compensated fairly for your work, everyone should. I just wish you were a little better at following directions.”

  “Does everyone who works for you receive regular payments, or do they get paid by the job?”

  “A little of both.” I shrugged. “It depends on their situation such as whether or not they have another source of income.”

  Keira nodded, apparently satisfied with my explanation. “Is anything going on between you and April?”

  I bent down and brushed her warm lips with mine, then said, “No. When I realized what was happening, I only wanted to help her.”

  Keira leaned in for another kiss, and I wrapped my arms around her. When we finally pulled apart I looked deep into her eyes. “Keira, I've been wanting to ask you something.”

  Just then the door opened. Keira turned to look and cried, “Scott!”

  -April-

  Truths Revealed

  After Dr. Ross took photos of the welts on my back and my battered eye, he gave me ointment and eye drops to help with the healing process and an injection to ease the pain. He was thorough yet professional.

  When he left, I took a shower. Later, Keira knocked on the bedroom door. I was drying off with a fluffy blue towel.

  “May I come in?” she asked.

  “I guess,” I shifted the towel to cover the welts on my back. She'd already seen enough.

  Keira sat on the edge of the bed. “It's my turn next.” She nodded in the direction of the bathroom.

  It looked like she had already washed her hands, but there were blood stains at her waist and on her right sleeve. That was the hand she had used to...I didn't want to think about that.

  “The doctor left. He said he thinks he has plenty of evidence to make a solid case, if we need to.”

  “That's good,” I replied. “Does that mean I don't have to leave?”

  “April, leaving has to be your choice. No one can make you go. Rick has done all that he can to provide an opportunity. It's my opinion that you should take it. Scott will go with you. He's waiting in the living room.”

  “Scott's here?”

  “Yes, he's your military escort.”

  “Does he know about...about what happened to me?”

  “A little. I'm sure Rick told him something, or he wouldn't be here. The doctor didn't share anything, in case you're wondering.”

  I sat next to her. “Keira, please be honest with me.”

  “About what?”

  “About everything. Can't you tell me what's going on? If I decide to go, where will Scott take me? When he leaves me there, what will I do? How will I survive without either of you?”

  “You'll be going to Mediterra, and you'll stay there until your training is complete. I don't have all the answers, but I'm sure Scott won't just leave you. He'll help you get settled in. Then you'll come back and get a job right here in Tkaron.”

  Keira put her arm around me, and I leaned my head on her shoulder.

  “You should finish getting dressed and ask Rick and Scott the rest of your questions. They promised me they'd be completely honest with you, and they're the ones who know the details. They're waiting for you.”

  Keira stood and opened the closet. It was full of a variety of styles and sizes of clothing for both men and women.

  “Wear something light, but finish your look with layers. Go for a young rich girl look and pack a suitcase of clothes to take along too.”

  After Keira closed the bathroom door, I dressed in a pair of soft beige slacks and a periwinkle blouse. I grabbed a white cardigan to hide the rest of my injuries and returned to the living room. I would pack if I decided to go.

  Scott and Rick fell silent when I appeared in the doorway. Then Scott hurried over and hugged me tightly. I flinched. Even with the ointment, my back felt like it was on fire. He brushed some loose strands of hair back from my face, then took my wrists and gently turned my arms so he could see the bruises.

  “If Keira hadn't already, I would kill him,” he said.

  “Is that what you do too?” I asked.

  “Only under orders, but for this, I would make an exception.”

  “No, don't change who you are, Scott. I don't like that a man is dead because of me, no matter how much he hurt me.” I looked over at the man I knew as Ashton, “Rick, right?” He looked at Scott and nodded.

  “April, I'd like to introduce you to my best friend, Guy.”

  “Guy? Not Richard or Rick? Does Keira know about this?”

  “Yes, she does,” he said. “My name is Richard Burke, as you've been told, but people I trust call me Guy Bensen. I'm one of the leaders of the Resistance.”

  “But that's just an urban legend! It's not real.”

  “I assure you, it is real,” said Scott. “Guy and I formed a partnership when we were 16, and the Resistance was born. Keira just got involved recently. Now we'd like you to join too. It's a way to help people, but there are risks.”

  “You and Keira?” I asked Scott. I felt like I'd fallen down the rabbit hole. Ashton not being who he appeared – that I could handle – but my own brother and sister? And now they wanted me to help, but what could I do? I'd only finished high school, and all I'd been trained to do was clean and run errands. I turned my attention to Guy. “You offered me a job. It's not like what Keira does, is it?”

  “Not at all. I'd like to send you to the Art Institute of Parisio to train as an art dealer. The training would take about a year, but then you could move back here and work in one of the galleries downtown or even open one of your own.”

  “How does this benefit you?” I asked. “How does it help the Resistance?”

  “You have a good eye for art,” Guy said. He reached out and lightly touched the bright orange beaded necklace I'd found in a box on the dresser. “You focus on the colors, the lighting, the details. I could use someone close to home who can tell me the fair asking price for the artwork I steal.”

  “Why do you steal anyway? I thought you were wealthy. What do you need the money for?”

  “I steal because I believe the people who cause problems should be the ones to finance solutions. The money provides salaries to key members of the Resistance and helps keep safe houses like this clean and stocked. Some of the money is used to help people get out of tough situations and back on their feet. It also covers the cost of travel, job training and false IDs.”

  “How does Keira fit in? How does she help the Resistance?”

  “You know what she does for a living.”

  I nodded, my eyes wide.

  “Do you think I can convince her to stop?” he asked.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Good luck!”

  Guy smiled ruefully. “Thank you, I think.”

  “No.” Scott shook his head. “Smart aleck.” He smiled.

  “What about you?” I turned to face my brother. “Other than creating the Resistance when you were 16, I mean. How exactly do you help? What part do you play?”

  “I'd like to know the answer to that too.” Keira stood in the bedroom doorway. How long had she been listening?

  Scott looked at Keira. “I'm a Shepherd. I use my connections
and rank to provide safe transport and false documentation.” Then he returned his attention to me. “Whatever it takes to keep people safe.”

  “Where will you be going?” Keira asked me.

  “Parisio.”

  Scott said, “You'll learn from one of the best, Danielle Bellami. She's Guy's art dealer.”

  “Why would she help me? Won't I be taking away her job?”

  “Not at all,” said Guy. “Danielle will still be our contact in Parisio and will continue to sell our goods overseas. Having you on staff here guarantees we won't be sending her lesser quality items. She'll appreciate that.” He looked at the kitchen then and asked, “Is anyone else hungry?”

  ***

  A couple of hours later, I said goodbye to Keira, but first I turned to Guy. “You treat my sister right. It's what she deserves.”

  “It's what you deserve too.” Guy leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

  Why couldn't I have found him first? I was happy for Keira though. I turned and hugged her tightly. I didn't want to let her go. Everything was about to change! I just couldn't say it; I couldn't say goodbye to her.

  “I'll see you soon,” she said as we let go of each other. I climbed into the car next to Scott and refused to look back.

  -Keira-

  Who Are You?

  I watched as they drove away from the little yellow house. I would miss April. I knew when she returned she would be different. Her experiences overseas would change her, of that I had no doubt. I hugged myself as they drove away. Already, I felt a sense of loss, even though I was both excited and a little scared for April. What would she learn? Who would she become?

  Guy walked over to the porch swing, and I followed. We both sat and began to rock. He shifted and draped his arm over the back of the swing, around my shoulders, then turned his head to look at me. “Scott won't be checking in until they land, so we have the rest of the day with no plans.”

  I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Can we return to our holiday? You know, just leave reality behind for a while?”

  “Perhaps we should bring reality more into focus instead,” Guy suggested seriously.

  I let out a breath. “Why do you insist on being so serious?” I tilted my head back and looked up at him.

  His deep blue eyes studied me intently. “I didn’t answer April’s question before, when she asked how you fit in, because I wanted to talk with you about it first. How do you fit into the Resistance? How do you fit into my life? Only you can answer those questions, Keira. Who do you want to be?”

  “I think about that all the time. Right now, can't I just live in the moment and think about it later?”

  “No.”

  “No?” I pulled away from him and sat up straight. “But I can't concentrate on myself right now! I'm too worried about April.”

  “They're going to be out of touch for at least eight hours. This is the best time to talk about it. You're at a safe house. No one is listening but you and me. You can be completely honest here. I know who I am, and I know what I want. I came to terms with myself a long time ago. Now it's your turn. And I need to be certain of your path before we can move ahead.”

  I looked off into the distance. “Well, I guess I'm one of the people who breaks in and steals stuff.”

  “A Raider. But Keira, who are you? There's more to you than that.”

  I thought back. Who had I become, and why? “I was eight when my parents died. Dad from sickness and Mom from...well that's a little more complicated. As our only living relative, Aunt Cady had to take us in. When I was 16, she kicked me out. With April's help I was able to sneak back into the house to sleep for a couple of weeks. I went to school during the day but could no longer concentrate, so what was the point? After that, I lived on the streets. I had to do certain things to survive. I didn't want to, but I didn't have any other choice. I needed to eat. I needed a place to stay.”

  I looked at Guy. “I’d really rather not talk about that.” He remained silent, but I could tell by his expression that he wasn’t going to let me off the hook. Why did he want me to talk about it, to remember? Maybe I really did need to look back before I could move forward. Guy didn’t seem to be judging me, not yet anyway, but what would happen when he learned the whole truth? He already knew a little about my past, but to share all of it, to say it out loud after I'd tried so hard to forget. Would that change things between us?

  I took a deep breath and continued, “A few of the men I stayed with, they hurt me, badly. I tried to drown it out with cheap alcohol. If drugs weren’t so expensive, I may have tried them too. Within only a few weeks, I hit my breaking point. I almost ended it.” I rubbed my wrist.

  “But then I thought about April, and I knew I just couldn't, and I couldn't lose myself to the streets either. I had to fight back. It was the only way I would be able to help April when her turn came.” Guy still hadn't looked away.

  Now that I had started, I needed to continue, to finish this. “It was revenge at first. I hurt them as badly as they had hurt me, and I left physical signs. I wanted others to be able to see who these men were on the inside. I earned a reputation that’s kept me safe, both me and April. No one on our end of town will hurt her, and even though I knew what kind of a man Lance Beckett was, I never thought he would, at least not without April telling me or fighting back. Guy, why didn't she fight back?”

  He shifted his arm and pulled me closer.

  “I messed up, didn’t I? I didn't teach her enough. I should have taught her how to fight so that she could when I wasn't around to protect her.” I began to cry.

  Guy leaned down and whispered, “I know who you are. You're a fighter, a survivor. You're also a protector.”

  I shook my head, my thoughts still in the past. “I began hurting people as a way to survive, but then killing became a way to make a living. It’s become routine. Now I don’t feel anything at all when I’m on a job.” I looked at him. “I would have killed you too, you know, if Elaine Ramsey hadn't slipped up. I would have killed you and not wasted another thought on it. I'm so sorry."

  “Keira, who do you want to be?”

  I took another deep breath. “I want to be more like you, I guess, and more like Scott, but I'm afraid for him.”

  “Why?”

  “Scott sold out by joining the military. I really believe that. But his heart is in the right place. If the Gov ever learns what he's doing on the side, he'll be court martialed and executed. You know that, right?”

  “For Scott, it was far more dangerous in the early days, when he didn't have the rank or the support that he has today, but he's brave, like you. He believed it was worth it, and he knew the risks when we started this. We both did.”

  “What about you?” I asked him. “I can't figure you out. You have everything: wealth, social standing. Why do you risk it?”

  “Because I know who I am, and I'm being true to myself.”

  “And who are you, Guy Bensen?”

  “I already told you. I'm a Guide. Right now, I'm your guide. So what do you think? Have we figured you out?”

  “You mean, am I willing to risk it all for the Resistance?”

  “I mean are you willing to work for the common good?”

  I paused, then said, “Yes, but I'm doing this for more than just the Resistance.”

  “Why then?”

  “I want to make up for past mistakes . I can't promise I won't kill again. I know I have it in me, and if I'm cornered I may have to. And I would kill to protect, but I'll try not to let it get to that point. I'll try to find alternatives.”

  Guy smiled.

  “Who do you want me to be?”

  Guy stood and pulled me to my feet. “Keira, that is the wrong question. My opinion shouldn't matter.”

  “But it does matter to me. I've been on my own for so long, watching out just for myself and for April, not caring a
bout anyone else. I don't want to live like that anymore.”

  “And you don't have to.”

  Guy pulled me into a warm embrace. I leaned against him and felt his strength. When he pulled away, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a shiny gold pendant. It looked like a serpent in the shape of an S striking at a gold coin. It sparkled in the sun.

  “I know it can never replace the locket you lost, but I want you to know that I’m glad.”

  “About what?”

  “That I was right about you.”

  -Scott-

  No Race Can Prosper

  “No race can prosper till it learns that there is as much dignity in tilling a field as in writing a poem. - Booker T. Washington.”

  “What?” April asked.

  “That quote is what started it all.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I met Rick a few months before my sixteenth birthday. He was new in town. He hadn't realized who was who at school yet, so he crossed social lines that aren't typically crossed.”

  “You had classes together?” April asked in surprise.

  “Of course not. He was placed in classes with the other rich kids, but I was sitting alone at lunch those days. I was busy trying to figure out my future. It's hard to know who to sit with at lunch, especially if you're new. Do you try to break into an established clique? Should you sit alone? Or, should you sit with someone else who looks as lonely as you?”

  “I see.”

  “'No race can prosper till it learns that there is as much dignity in tilling a field as in writing a poem. - Booker T. Washington.' That was the first thing Rick ever said to me. He said they'd been discussing that quote in English class, and he wanted to know my opinion. At first I thought he was joking. A rich kid, asking for my opinion? I looked around to see who was watching, but no one was. No one had ever been interested in my opinion in anything before that.”

  “I've always been interested in your opinions,” April reminded me.

  “So you have.” I smiled. “How are you doing?”

  “I'm nervous,” she admitted.

  “There's an envelope in the glove compartment. It contains your paperwork: a new ID, travel documents and bank account information. Memorize the address on the ID. If anyone asks for your permanent residence, that's what you should tell them, even though it isn't where you'll really be staying. All correspondence will be routed through that address.”