Chapter 15: The Goodbye
“No, Madrigal!” yells Constanza.
Royce, who is the one closest to me, knocks the slingshot off my hands. I reach for it on the ground, but he pins me down by locking his arms around me from behind. I feel his ragged breath on my neck, and I cringe.
“Let me go!” I demand, struggling to get out of his vice-like grip.
“Let her go, you idiot!” Peter snaps as he starts to rush over to me.
“Everyone calm down!” orders Constanza as she moves in between the cousins before Peter reaches Royce. “Everyone stop what you’re doing and take a breath.”
Royce sets me free but grabs the slingshot from the floor before I can get to it. “Hey!” I yell, furiously.
“You’re going to hurt someone with this thing,” he announces.
“Isn’t that the point?” I declare as I remember why I had pulled it out and glance at the guardian who is standing amused at the door.
“It’s George, Madrigal,” Constanza explains.
“George?” I ask, puzzled. Upon further inspection, I realize it is him.
“Still as feisty as ever,” George declares, a huge grin on his face.
My eyebrows come together. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“I work for the government.”
I do a double take. “You what?”
“I work for the government,” he repeats.
“Why would you do that?” I ask suspiciously.
Peter grins sheepishly. “You know what they say, ‘keep your friends close but your enemies closer.’”
“How can you stand working so close to those tyrants?” I inquire.
“Working for the government allows me certain privileges and to know certain things,” George explains, matter-of-factly.
“George’s contributions to the resistance have been invaluable,” Constanza states.
A realization suddenly dawns on me. “Including having transported me in a government van.”
George nods enthusiastically. “How do you think we did it? Government vehicles are impossible to get.”
“You’ve got to have an in to get one,” Constanza asserts, smiling at George.
Peter grins. “We’re lucky to have one.”
“Are we good to go?” George asks.
“We’re going with you?” I question.
“You’d better believe it,” he announces proudly.
“We’re ready,” states Royce.
I shake my head. “Not quite.”
“What do you mean?” Royce asks, a quizzical expression on his face.
“I want my weapon back,” I demand, eyeing Royce as I extend my hand out, palm up.
“Okay.” He solemnly places my slingshot on my hand.
“Thanks a lot,” I mutter as my fingers curl themselves over the weapon.
“I had to do it,” he tells me quietly. “You would’ve hit George—probably incapacitated him, and we wouldn’t have been able to start our mission.”
“I understand,” I say with ice in my tone. He’s right, of course, but he didn’t have to be so brutal with me. I can still feel his gorilla-like arms squeezing me until I could hardly breathe.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.
“It seems to me,” Peter interjects, “that you’re always having to apologize to Madrigal.”
“I know,” Royce mutters.
“Maybe you should stay away from her,” states Peter.
Royce glares at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Peter’s eyes ignite. “What I’d like is for you to stop hurting my friend.”
“Didn’t we just have a conversation on cohesiveness?” asks a frustrated Constanza. “I’m very close to pulling the plug on this mission.”
“No,” I blurt. “Please don’t.”
“What kind of a director would I be if I let you go through all that danger without trust in each other?”
“Constanza,” Peter says, “we trust each other.”
Her eyes narrow. “Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it.”
“I know Royce is a good leader,” Peter announces. “I’ll follow his orders with no problem.”
“What about you, Madrigal?” Constanza asks. “Can you set aside those feelings from the past to follow him?”
I look straight into Royce’s dark eyes. “I can.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Constanza sighs deeply. “You know, Supernova, eventually it’s you we’ll all be following. You could do a lot worse than learning leadership from someone like Royce. You just don’t know him yet.”
I nod. “I’ll take that into consideration.”
“Can we leave now?” George asks impatiently. “Our window of opportunity is going to close.”
“Let’s go,” Royce states.
I circumvent my need for space and hug Constanza before stepping onto the elevator hidden in her bedroom’s closet. It takes us to the bottom of the cliff. I’m assuming that this is where they brought me through when they abducted me. I follow the guys through a tunnel that takes us to huge, chalky gray boulders covering the opening. I’m curious as to how we’re getting past them, to the outside.
Royce presses a button on the side of the tunnel and the rocks push forward. Apparently, they’re held together by a device. We’re in a very clever hiding place between the waterfall on one side and the boulders on another. I step outside to the fresh air, and the beautiful scenic place with dark-green foliage growing abundantly soothes my overactive nerves. It would be paradise if it wasn’t for the danger. Constanza’s last words to me echo in my mind.
“You can do this, Supernova. You can lead us back to democracy.”
This time, the van George had procured has windows and several rows of seats. He doesn’t have to worry about me trying to escape. I try not to look at him. His dark suit with the silver guardian pin on his lapel unnerves me.
“I didn’t recognize you, Madrigal,” he says, climbing into the driver’s seat.
“You didn’t?”
“You look completely different,” he states, starting the ignition.
“Good. I’m supposed to be unrecognizable.”
George’s eyes meet mine through the rearview mirror. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I say uncomfortably. I had received too many compliments lately.
“Feisty but beautiful,” he adds with a smile as the van pulls out.
“Feisty and mega-awesome,” Peter interjects, grinning.
“Stop it, you guys,” I grumble. My fake parents had cared so much about appearances that I’m leery of them and of people who put a lot of stock in them. “You’d better get used to it,” Peter declares.
“What?”
He chuckles. “You’ll see.”
“What do you mean?” I question.
“He means that guys will be all over themselves to be with you,” answers Royce dryly. “They already do.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I blurt.
Royce’s steady sight stays on me. “It’s true.”
“I’m on a mission,” I declare, wanting this conversation to end, “not trying to find a boyfriend.”
“You can accomplish your goals while still having a boyfriend,” Peter interjects.
I energetically shake my head. “A boyfriend is the furthest thing from my mind.”
“Oh,” Peter mutters, disappointed.
“She’s right,” Royce declares, “We’re on a very important mission. We can’t let romance get in the way.”
“It wouldn’t have to,” insists Peter.
Royce shakes his head. “Feelings always do.”
“You are such a cynic,” guffaws George.
“When you feel romantically tied to someone, it can cause problems.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Royce,” scoffs Peter.
“I guess falling for QT100 must’ve been the pits,” George
asserts. “She was the beauty you had to leave behind.”
“She’s a total monster,” sneers Royce.
I’m completely taken aback. “You think she’s a monster?”
“I know she is.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t have a crush on her,” George interjects.
“Yes, it does,” Royce snaps.
“Royce is right,” mutters Peter, eyeing me carefully. “You should care about the person for who they are and not what they look like.”
“Let’s finish what we need to finish and then get romantic,” Royce grumbles.
I nod quietly. I can’t believe I’m agreeing with Royce. “Yes, important things come first.”
We quietly travel through the Center of Order—that’s what the United World leaders call the city that used to be Austin, Texas. It is now their residence and where they make all the decisions for earth. I cringe when I see the road leading to my fake parent’s house. It was never my home, and I have never thought of it as such.
I feel years away from that place—from that girl I used to be. I can see my fake parents in my mind’s eye sitting in the living room watching a government documentary about how much our planet has improved from the old days. I can see my fake dad nodding his head gleefully while eating from a huge tub of banana nut ice cream. I wasn’t allowed to touch it since it would make me fat. My fake mother would be by his side as blissful as he was and eating chocolate bars that were also prohibited to me. The majority of the planet was starving but food was never a problem at my house—especially for my fake parents since I wasn’t allowed to eat most of it.
I would sometimes wonder how they could be allowed to decide the fate of so many people while being so selfish and self centered. They constantly stuffed themselves with food prohibited to almost everybody. When they’d gain any weight, they’d approve fat reduction surgery for themselves and whittle down to their skinny weight. They did this while rejecting many necessary surgeries for the others that could save lives. I sigh.
My fake parents disgusted me so much.
Thank goodness I’m free from them.
“Rush hour!—great!” chortles George as we move onto the freeway.
It is busy with government executives heading for home. Of course, there are no private vehicles on the road but there is government issued transportation like law cruisers, delivery trucks, utility vehicles, ambulances and cars.
“One day our society will be free,” Royce announces.
Peter nods quietly. “We’ve been planning for so long.”
“It’s hard to believe we’re finally here,” Royce comments.
Peter’s lips curl up. “It’s hard to believe that we’ve got the Supernova with us.” All eyes bounce over to me. I shift in my seat uncomfortably.
“We can’t fail in our mission,” Royce passionately declares.
“No, we can’t,” I agree.
I think about the many people who are depending on us—those who are put at the margin of society just because they are deemed the others, and I make a silent vow to do what I can. It’s such a huge undertaking, though, to make it to the Freedom Warriors Headquarters. I want to sink in my seat when I think about how closely society is watched. Will anyone catch us as we’re moving in this van?
“Wouldn’t it have been better to be in a closed vehicle?” I ask.
“It’s better to be in the open,” George remarks confidently. “People always wonder what’s in a closed van.”
“Good point,” I say but then I see a car that looks exactly like my fake parent’s government one. I cringe.
“Are you okay, Madrigal?” asks Peter.
It’s not them. I tell myself to contain the disgust. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
The traffic comes to an abrupt halt. We’re nearing a checkpoint! I’ve always despised being so closely watched from all corners. I take deep breaths as I glance out the window. Vehicles are piling up.
“What are we going to do?” I ask to no one in particular.
“We’ve got this handled, Madrigal,” Royce answers.
My eyes shift to his face. “But if they check our fingerprints—”
The frenzied noise of government dogs barking disrupts my thought process. I turn towards the ear splitting chaos, wanting to squeeze my hands over my ears to muffle the tumultuous racket. Instead, my mouth drops open.
Those fierce animals are in pursuit.
They’re accelerating towards us.