THE GLOW OF LANTERN beams startled us awake.
“You the boys who wrote the note?” a voice asked.
“Yes,” I said, shielding my eyes from the sudden brightness.
“We’d like to talk with you.”
I was sitting up now. Cat, too. For some reason, Hope’s bed was empty.
A figure emerged, stepping forward until he stood directly between the soldiers and us. Lantern light silhouetted his body from behind.
“My name is James Heywood,” he said. “I’m one of President Vasquez’s aides. We spoke the other day.”
“I remember.”
“The president read your letter and asked that we talk with you. Are you free now?”
“In the middle of the night?” I asked.
“If that’s convenient.”
“Uh, sure.”
It was kind of a silly question. Of course we were free; the man had just found us sleeping. Besides, it didn’t really matter if it was convenient or not. This was why we had traveled here—to talk to the president of the Republic of the True America. Still, this man’s kindness was just the opposite of our overseers back in Camp Liberty, who usually woke us with a shriek of whistles.
“We could wait until morning,” Heywood went on, “but based on everything you wrote, I imagine you would prefer to speak sooner rather than later.”
“Yes, sir. That’s right.”
“Good—that’s what we think, too. Then we’ll let you get dressed and you can join us outside.”
Cat and I threw on clothes, exited the stables, and joined Heywood and his soldiers. They led us through the dark and empty streets to the presidential compound, a dizzying array of tents in various heights and configurations. When we reached the entrance, the guards gestured for us to spread our arms and legs.
“Sorry,” Heywood said. “Merely a precaution.”
The soldiers frisked us and discovered our knives. “We’ll hold them here,” one soldier said, removing them from our scabbards and placing them in a box. “You’ll get them back when you leave.”
We followed Heywood through the checkpoint. Much to our surprise, the first person we laid eyes on was Hope, sitting on a bench, elbows resting on knees.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked.
“Same thing as you,” she answered. “Finally getting the chance to tell our story.”