Wordwars

“So what are you even doing?” I ask abruptly, my voice, hoarse from no conversation for almost a month, breaking the silence only previously broken by the blonde boy’s snoring. Russell turns to stare at me incredulously, the stare so incredulous it is almost condescending. I rush to correct myself. “I mean why haven’t you submitted to the government or whatever.” His deep blue gaze turns hard and I immediately wish I could take the question back.
“I will never submit to the government,” he says quietly, his voice hard as steel and his blue eyes sharp as flint. Then he becomes silent once more and turns to stare again at the same spot on the wall. I push to keep the conversation going.
“Well you must have some relation to the government. I mean, I saw you at the banquet where they announced the chip thing with some other girl in a pink dress.” I expect his eyes to widen when he realizes I saw him, but there is none. For some unknown reason, I have got it in my head that I want to shock this strange, defiant boy whose gaze still lingers on the wall in front of him, so I continue. “And they conducted quite some search party for you /Russell./” I regret not watching long enough to see his last name.
“His gaze is still cool when he turns to look at me once more. “So you know my name. I remember yours too. The piano player at the banquet, Billie Carmichael. And I know your last name too. But that’s interesting you knew I was that banquet, considering you never saw me.” He winks slyly at me and I remember the words that he had mouthed to me as he escaped from the White House. ‘You never saw us.’
“Well you never actually answered my earlier question,” I point out to him, trying to direct the conversation away from his joking mockery all at my expense. Why hadn’t I been smart enough to watch the most wanted ad long enough to see his last name?
“What question?” he asks innocently, too innocently if you ask me, one brown eyebrow arching curiously. “I don’t ever remember any particular question.”
“Why you’re doing this. This as in not submitting to the government that is,” I say, slightly annoyed at having to repeat the question.
“Was my answer not good enough? I said I would never submit to them,” he says simply with a slight shrug of his shoulders. Thankfully he does not seem upset this time, but behind his deep azure eyes, a blue fire burns steadily and brightly, that can’t help but shine through, even though he tries to cleverly hide it.
“That’s not saying why you won’t submit. Only that you won’t,” I remind him yet again, sighing this time.
“Why don’t’ you tell me your reason, and maybe I’ll tell you mine,” he responds back. And then one ocean blue eye is closed for a brief second- maybe even less- as he pauses to wink one eye at me once more.
“Because,” I say. “I’m not going to be a weak little slave of the government. Their little robot. And neither will Thomas be either. He’s not going to have that stupid accursed chip implanted in the back of his poor little scrawny neck. I’m going to do anything and everything I can do to save him and protect him. I don’t care if they get me and kill me, but just not Thomas.” I take a deep long breath before repeating myself in a low whisper. “No, not Thomas. Not him.” I am sure the fire burns steadily in my eyes now too. Russell is looking at me thoughtfully, those deep blue eyes soft now. I am surprised when he speaks; surprised at what he says.
“I’ll help you too,” he says quietly, and judging from the intensity of his blue gaze, I guess that he too desperately wants to protect someone as much as I desperately want to protect Thomas. Perhaps a sibling, maybe even Chris, or perhaps the girl in the pink dress. “Well, if you help me overthrow the government that is,” he concludes.
“But why,” I question, urging him to answer. “You still haven’t told me why you want to,” I push.
“Because,” he says slowly, biting his lip. And then something I never imagined would happen. I great big fat tear slowly emerged from one of his deep blue eyes, and rolled down his face, leaving a streak across the dirt. And then he began to talk. “You know the girl I was with at the banquet?” I want to joke around and say “I never saw you” and lighten up the mood, but somehow I know this is not the time for it, so I simply nod, and he takes it as a signal to continue. “Well her name was Bridget. She was captured several weeks ago, the day before the chips were activated.” I do not point out that I was there to witness her capture. Russell’s eyes are sad and it makes me sad to see them sad. “And just like you and Thomas, I’ll do anything to get her back and protect her. I love her.” He says the last sentence with so much conviction, that I know that he truly means it. But why does it pain me to hear him say it like that anyways? I mean, sure, this boy is very- well no, to be honest, this boy is amazingly- attractive, but I’ve hardly known him for a one single day. I can’t really like him that much can I? I shake my head, purposely driving the thoughts to the corner of my mind.
“I’m sorry,” I say simply, because I do not know what else to say. There is not much else to say to something like this. Then I think of something else. “I’ll help you get her back then. Thomas and Bridget. Good riddance with with us, but they stay alive right?”
“Right,” he whispers, and I know he is still deep in thought, remembering Bridget and how much he loves her. Why isn’t he thinking of me? And here I go again. This stupid boy. That’s right. Stupid. I have no right to like a stupid boy. Good riddance with him first before me. Sure, Thomas and Bridget stay safe and he goes first before me. Actually scratch that. Good riddance with Bridget first for claiming Russell’s affections. No, no. Good riddance with Russell. Actually I might as well say good riddance with me for thinking all these accursed thoughts!
“So are we in this together,” he asks me quietly and I nod silently.
“Deal,” I say back softly.
“Deal,” he whispers back, and we shake.
“I think I am going to go to sleep now. . .” I say, trailing off at the end from drowsiness. He nods in recognition.
“Ok then. I’ll keep watch and wake up Chris when I need sleep,” he tells me, still talking quietly. “You look like you need some rest.”
“Chris?” I mumble. “Who’s that?”
“Oh right,” Russell corrects himself. “Chris is the blondie sleeping by Thomas. Assuming from our conversation that Thomas is the little boy sleeping next to him, your brother. And since we are in this thing together, I think we can afford to know each others’ names.” I nod sleepily, already slipping into unconsciousness.
“Sure, sure. . .” I reply, breaking off as I begin to drift into the land of dreams- or for the correction, it had been the land of night mares lately.
But even as I slowly fall asleep, my mind buzzes, thinking of the conversation I had with Russell. And in my half asleep daze, where I am too out of it to deny the fact, I think, /Russell. Russell. Russell that I love. Russell. Russell. Russell. Russell. . . . . . . . . . . . . ./
And for the first time in a long time, I go to sleep with happy thoughts in my head. And also for the first time in a long time, I have a pleasant dream instead of a nightmare. In my dream Russell is there. And so is the girl in the pink dress, Bridget. She is running towards Russell, joy written on her face, but he pushes her away and instead turns to me. “Billie,” he says out loud to me, and then he is running towards me like Bridget had run to him.

Chapter 17: Conspiracy

I wake up and roll onto my side to see Thomas awake. Why does he look so much happier today? Is there some hope I don't know of? What had turned his frown upside down? And then a voice speaks, reminding me of its presence.
"Hey. You're awake. Billie right?" it says and I quickly spin around, so fast that I almost fall over. Why is there an intruder in my house, and why does he want to know if he has my name right? And then I see the light face surrounded by spiky blonde hair and I remember.
"Yes," I confirm my voice still groggy from sleep. I clear my throat to try to make it sound more normal. "And you are Chris right?" He nods in confirmation.