Chapter Two

Ashlee

 

She pushed her body up one more time, her arms quivering, before she collapsed full length onto the floor again. Fifty push-ups. Not bad. She'd always hated them, but a week in the safe house with nothing to do but watch CNN and speculate had pushed her into at least making an attempt at staying fit. She sat up, stretching out her sore arms. Christ, she hated this. Hated being stuck here, stuck with no one, nothing to do. Bored.

Well, not no one. People came by from time to time. Matt came by. He kept telling her to sit tight, to wait things out, to see what happened next. But nothing was happening.

At the beginning, like most people, she'd assumed Hammersmith was a temporary measure. But as day after day went by with no signs of a statement about an election or any other form of government, she was beginning to wonder. And to worry.

“Knock, knock.”

Matt's head popped around the door, his eyebrows raised when he saw what she was doing.

“Watching TV while exercising makes it more palatable,” she said.

“Makes what more palatable?” he asked. “The exercise or the TV?”

“Both.”

She got up, sitting on the couch as he came fully into the room.

“It's time we got the ball rolling,” he said, coming to sit next to her. “The situation doesn't look to be changing at all.”

“Still a terrorist attack?”

“So they say, and I've got no proof otherwise. But it's time for us to get back to work. We just have to figure out what the hell we're doing.”

“The Freedom Group is still exactly that,” she said. “And a military dictatorship is even worse than what we had before. So I suggest we continue with what we were already doing, which was, if you remember, planning a revolution. A political revolution.”

“We've just had one of those,” he reminded her. “And it didn't exactly turn out great. But yes, you're right. We need to continue with our plans. I'm already gearing up the cell groups to start protesting. I figured we'd wait until Monday, get the whole week in, and give the administration a chance to make a statement about the state of the government. Should that not happen, then we're all good to go. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” she said. “Does that mean I can come out of hiding now? I mean, we're obviously not being blamed for anything, so it should be safe enough, shouldn't it? I kinda want to go home.”

He shifted on the couch, and Ashlee felt the cushion move.

“I don't think so,” he said. “I think we all need to disappear underground. No public profile from now on. Things are about to get serious, and we have to start taking them seriously. If this is, in fact, what it appears, then we're going to have to get revolutionary. Protests and petitions aren't going to be enough, Ash. We need plans; we need sabotages; we need the truth, whatever that may be. And finding out the truth is going to be a lot more difficult now that the military is in control. A lot more difficult.”

“Killing people isn't on the agenda.”

It sounded strange to say so. But it was an immediate, knee-jerk reaction. Matt sounded as though he were talking about bombing and raiding and who knew what else, and she wanted no part in it.

“It may have to be,” he said gently. “And you're going to need to reconcile yourself to the fact. People are going to get hurt. People always get hurt. The best we can do is minimize the damage.”

She stayed silent.

“Think about it, Ashlee. The United States is currently a military dictatorship, or at least it seems so. If that continues to be true, then we're going to need to act, and the military doesn't respond to protests and reason. Not always. We'll need to meet people on their own ground.”

“No.”

Matt shrugged. “It may become inevitable,” he said. “In the meantime, though, we'll start with what we already have. Protests will begin on Monday, and each cell already has a list of people earmarked to be taken to safety in case things get worse. Blake will be back from L.A. on Tuesday, and I'm sure he'll have both opinions and ideas as to what should happen next. I need you to get thinking. Think about a way forward, about what we stand for and what needs to happen for us to get an administration that we're comfortable with and can work with. Do your research. Talk to your sources. But . . .”

“Don't go outside,” she finished, dully.

“Right.”

He got up again, brushing against her arm as he did so.

“I'm sorry, Ash. I know you didn't want things to go this way. But none of us did. We're playing a completely new game right now, and nobody knows the rules. Until we get a firm footing and understand what the hell's going on, there's not a lot we can do. Just sit tight. I can come back around later tonight if you want.”

She thought about this for a second. Thought about the warmth of his body. Thought about his company. Thought about how nice it would be to take her mind away somewhere else if only for a few sweet minutes. But then she shook her head.

“No, no thanks. I'll be fine.”

She needed to think. And she couldn't think with him there. She needed to think alone, without his influence. Needed to be sure she could do what he was intimating was going to need to be done. Domestic terrorism. Revolution. Whatever words you gave it, it was still a kind of action she didn't know if she was capable of. She thought she saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes when she refused him. But then he smiled at her, a big, wide grin, and left. He was, she realized, excited. The time for action could be coming, and Matt very obviously wanted a part in things. Ashlee's problem was that she knew she had a part whether she liked it or not. And she wasn't entirely sure she was ready.