Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
“You know as well as I do that the Regime doesn’t know shit about these people. We don’t know where they live, where their headquarters are, or who is backing them.”
I sigh. I’m thankful he doesn’t have a lock on her, but what do I say to that? I don’t say anything and let him go on.
“That’s all we need, a bunch of armed Insurgents. What the fuck are you going to do about it, Chalmers?”
“Do you have anything for me to track her down? I’m going to need some cash if I’m going to get help in locating her,” I offer. Already the thought of finding her is calming me. Knowing that I’ll be the one tracking her and no one else eases my racing mind.
“We don’t have shit for you. Just do your job and get your gun back. Kill the little bitch with it,” The Leader shouts into the phone before he hangs up.
I chuck the phone across the room at the thought of a hair on her head being harmed. I barely miss a surprised nurse who just came to check on me. These random attacks are getting brazen. The Regime talks a big game of retaliation, but they’re starting to put less money behind these promises. Frankly, I don’t care. I’m going to get her myself, with or without their help.
The nurse, a small woman with a kind face and calming voice, tells me the scan shows no concussion and I’m free to go.
“You’re all set. If you feel anything change as the day goes on, please come back and see us to check you over again.”
“I’m sorry about throwing my phone,” I mumble as I glance at her name tag.
It says Minnie Payne, R.N., ill. The “ill.” stands for “illegitimate.” She was raised on the outside. Not a part of our world within the wall.
“Happens all the time,” she says, shrugging.
An illegitimate working as a nurse? Good for her. Something about her kindness makes me want to repay the favor. I nod to her nametag and hand her a food voucher from my bag. She looks at me for half a second and then holds up her hands, refusing to take it. It’s a bold move on her part. If anything, she could barter this like gold on the streets.
“That’s not what I’m after,” she says, her voice low and hesitant.
“What do you need?” I ask. I wasn’t expecting this kind of response, but now I’m curious.
With no hesitancy, she says, “I need someone killed.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. After the morning I’ve had, how can I not. “So do I, lady.”
She took a risk by asking a high-ranking official like me for something like this. She must be really desperate. I look down and see her wringing her hands, then back to the “illegitimate” name tag. This woman has most likely gotten this job through lots of hard work and pushing against the system. I see kindness in her eyes, but I also see strength and maybe a touch of fear. I have my own demons, but there is a part of me that will never truly be a part of the Regime. It’s something I can’t say out loud, and it’s the reason I’m going to help her.
“Let me take care of mine, and then I’ll see about yours,” I answer solemnly, and she smiles at me. “I’ll be in touch.” I nod at her.
I make my way out of the room and down the long hall of the hospital wing. When I walk by a couple sitting together on a bench, my thoughts drift back to Insurgent Number One.
I’m not a young buck anymore. The Regime overlooked the fact that I’m not married, due to my dedicated public service. I politely declined dates with the women The Leader brought to me. They were all intelligent, well spoken, and charming in their own way. They just didn’t spark my interest. My rejection of these women always came back to the same thing. They were property of the Regime. Enthusiastic followers of the status quo without fire in their bellies. There was no attraction for me. I never felt anything. In fact, it turned me off and made my stomach turn because I don’t think a lot of those women wanted to be there either, being offered up for marriage.
The Leader saw me as a useful single person, but that wouldn’t last forever. There had been hints around the office lately that it was time for me to breed. They wanted insurance, which meant they wanted my good genes passed down to more little soldiers to hold up their power structure. And that meant they would be picking an approved mate for me from the Ladies University soon.
Someone with class and breeding. She would be well built but not overly curvy or underweight. She would be taught to carry herself like a lady, wear the approved dresses and skirts, and her hair would be long. She would smile and pay attention when men talked, and she would speak only when spoken to. The list of qualifications that The Regime had for workers’ mates went on and on. Their checklist didn’t exactly match mine, but someone else matched what I wanted. Well what I know I want as of a few hours ago. It hit me just as hard as she had.