Amanda’s heart raced with effervescent excitement … she could sense her emotions bubbling within her … and the tiny, cold whisper of reason warned her: be careful. Alone with Ethan—no one holding either of them accountable—temptation and passion could overwhelm her and silence that fragile whisper, snuffing it out in a fury of passion that she would later regret. It would perhaps destroy the very love that she came here to celebrate.
“No.” She stepped back. “Let’s talk at the end of the hallway by the window. It’s quiet enough.”
“Okay.” Ethan closed his door and followed her.
Stopping in front of the window, she cradled the painting close to her heart, though not enough to smear the wet paint.
Ethan eyed her, a look of intrigue in his hazel eyes. “This is a little unexpected.”
“Yeah, I realize that.” She laughed a little. “I could’ve waited until later, but I had to see you soon. Um …” She glanced down at the painting, hard to distinguish in the shadows of the hallway. “Here, come near the window with me.”
The sun had just begun to rise in the east, over the mountains, the golden rays piercing through the darkness. In the brightness, the light falling upon them, she turned to him.
“I want to show you something.”
Breathless, she turned her painting around, revealing it to Ethan.
She continued, her words a flutter of excitement, “You probably don’t recognize this, but—”
“It’s the woman’s face.” He nodded. “The woman in your favorite painting.”
“You … you mean you remember?”
His gaze penetrated her, his words thick with feeling. “I remember everything about us.” He glanced back at the painting. “It’s beautiful, but what does the crown mean?”
“The crown?” She peered forward and then shrugged. “I didn’t think much about that yet. I’m just so happy to see the Mother again.” Amanda swallowed and glanced at the floor. “You know, when we tore her image apart, I felt like I lost more than my favorite painting. I lost you too. That’s the night everything definitively fell apart between us. You went from my lover to my enemy. Love turned to hate. I didn’t think I’d ever restore the woman’s face. I doubted whether we would get back to the way things used to be—or rather, to the way things should’ve been between us.
“Then yesterday you encouraged me to paint again. So I spent the whole night creating this. I created it again because of you. I never thought I’d see her face again and now she’s here, with us … and you came back … and we’re together now.”
Her words faded and light flooded their faces as the sun rose outside the window.
Ethan stared at the painting again and then raised his gaze to hers. “Do you realize what you’ve done? For the first time, you willingly showed me one of your paintings—no cajoling, no arm-twisting, no manipulation. You freely did this, all of your own accord.”
“Yeah. I did.” She placed the painting on the window ledge, propped up so the Mother was there before them. “I feel that, maybe for the first time, we’re finally seeing each other. No more hidden agendas. No more walls up. It’s just as Morgan said to me: God can make all things new … my painting … us.”
She stepped forward, standing on tiptoe, and kissed him. Everything about him was so near … his smell, the warmth of his touch, everything she remembered with a crystal clarity, frozen in her mind, that she thought irretrievable, was here again before her. He kissed her but not the same as before. No, there was no passionate desire to consume; no frenzied, insatiable hunger for something impossible to fill; no drug-infused addiction for more and more. Instead, he kissed her with a gentleness that surprised her. His fingers brushed delicately against her cheek, as though he cradled a porcelain doll, a treasure he wanted to handle with the greatest care lest he should inadvertently break or harm it. It was short, modest, but imbued with more meaning and power than any other kiss she had shared with him.
He pulled back and searched her eyes, as though seeking reassurance. She smiled at him, and he returned the smile. Then he wrapped his arms around her, folding her in his strong, protective embrace. This felt like home, like the place she was always meant to be. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head and she felt him sigh in contentment.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to hold you again,” he murmured. “I could stay like this all morning.”
She suddenly stiffened and turned her head, searching for a clock.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m just checking the time. Shoot. I completely forgot. I’ve got a Council meeting in a few minutes.”
“This early? Are you sure?”
She groaned. “Positive.”
“I hardly think things will fall apart if you miss just one meeting.” He fondled one of her curls. “You can stay here with me.”
“I could … but …” She rubbed her forehead. “What if this is a really important meeting?” She took a step back. “And didn’t you say that, if I agreed to let you stay, you’d fight alongside me? That’s got to be the priority here.”
His chin dipped to his chest. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
“But I can promise you something in return. I’ll come back to you as soon as I’m done.” She squeezed his hand.
“I’ll be waiting for you.” He drew her near, pressing her close and kissing her once more. “Come back as soon as you possibly can.”
She exhaled, her head dizzy. “I can’t wait.”
They stared at each other for another second, smiling like idiots. Then Amanda pulled herself away, her heart full and steps light.
She felt like a helium balloon, floating above the ground, weightless, as she took the elevator down to the basement. Finally, she and Ethan could be together. Finally, it made sense. And now she could barely wait to join him again and talk about everything in her heart, openly and honestly … to look into each other’s eyes with clarity and genuineness.
“How’s Chiara?” Joe pushed a chair out from the table for her.
“Oh.” Amanda took a seat, her conversation with Chiara flooding her mind in all its painful vividness. “She—she was still sleeping when I left the room.”
“I guess she isn’t making the meeting again.”
“I don’t know if she’s coming to any meetings again.”
Joe swore, his face twisted with anger.
Then Bennie entered the room. His shoulders sagged and he bent his neck, staring at the floor in front of him. When he spoke, his tone lacked any kind of vitality. “Hello, everyone. The attack on the detention center is now three days away and I know you’re finalizing your assigned tasks. By tonight we should have the supplies gathered and bags packed.”
His mouth turned downward. “I wanted to speak with you this morning, not about specifics, but about the big picture here. You see, I want to be honest with each of you. We’ve done our best to prepare, but we can never be certain of what to expect. There may be—” He paused a moment, pressing his lips into a fine line. “There may be unforeseen events. I just want to prepare you all. We will strive for victory, but we have to also be ready in case God asks something different of us.” He lifted his head, turning his gaze from face to face. “It may be that God is asking you to wear the red crown of martyrdom.”
Amanda stared at Bennie, dumbfounded, her mind reeling and stomach sinking. The red crown of martyrdom? What does that mean? A sudden chill crept its way down her back.
“The grain of wheat must die to bear much fruit. Maybe God is asking that of us here: to pay the ultimate price, to lay down our lives for the truth, to be witnesses to freedom. So ready yourselves. Ready your souls for whatever may await us.”
Bennie stood up. “Nasir, I have to pass the baton on to you. I have some things to take care of … I’ll touch base with all of you soon.”
With that, he hurried from the room.
Nasir, his face somber, ruffled through some papers. “I have some questions regarding positions as we approach the detention center. Let’s review that, as well as finalize the various retreat routes. Jason, I believe you have the maps?”
Amanda couldn’t listen. She stared ahead of her, not seeing anything. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Why would the Mother hold a red crown? Why hadn’t she even stopped to wonder about that?
She slid her chair back. “Excuse me for a minute …” she mumbled, not waiting to see what any of the other Council members had to say. She hurried to the elevator, her stomach leaden with dread.
On the first floor, she scoured the pool, exercise room, prayer space, and dining room, all in search of Bennie. She walked to the front office, which belonged to him. She knocked on the closed door and no one answered. Desperate for answers, she turned the handle anyway and pushed the door open.
Bennie sat at a desk, his head in his hands. His head shot up at her entrance, his eyes moist with tears.
Jarred by his obvious emotion, she stopped in her tracks. Bennie had been crying? Every thought and worry that had preoccupied her mind just a second ago dissipated in the face of his distress. “Bennie! What’s wrong?”
Using his thumb and pointer finger, he pressed the corners of both eyes, his eyelids closed. “The door was closed, Amanda.”
She winced. “Sorry about that.” She hesitated in the doorway. “Could I … do you need someone to talk to? If not … I can go.”
He slumped in his chair, sighing. “I shouldn’t. But I don’t think I can hold this in any longer.”
She closed the door behind her and then perched on the edge of a nearby chair. “I’m here.”
“It’s confidential. They’d kill me if they ever knew I told you.”
“I promise I won’t say a word to a single soul.”
“Davis told me what the military is planning.”
Amanda swallowed. So, she was right: Davis was behind this. He was the problem.
Bennie stared at her. “You went to an Academy. I’m sure you’ve studied history. I don’t have to explain to you what the word Chernobyl means.”
Her thoughts flickered to a classroom, rows of desks, and Professor Vallely staring out at them, eyes animated behind large, silver glasses, his finger pointing with emphasis at the wall-length, digital monitor where he posted his lecture notes for the 20th century European History class.
She rubbed her forehead. “The Soviet nuclear power plant? The one that exploded back in the 1980s?”
Bennie nodded. “Over one hundred thousand people dead from the radiation; contaminated plants and soil; people evacuated from their homes, never to return; an Exclusion Zone around the explosion site, which can’t be used for more than twenty-four thousand years. That’s what happened at Chernobyl. And it’s what will happen here, only worse.”
“Davis … Davis wants to cause a nuclear explosion at the power plant?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“B—but that’s not exactly the same as a nuclear weapon, right? I mean … this can’t be on the level of Nagasaki or Hiroshima.”
“I’m afraid you’re terribly mistaken. Granted, nuclear reactors don’t explode the same way as nuclear bombs. Reactors are controlled and monitored, while bombs are an uncontrolled fission chain reaction. Reactors aren’t designed to explode—but they can. And—while the result isn’t necessarily an explosion that will kill hundreds of thousands of people immediately—many, many people will die. Scientists estimated that Chernobyl released four hundred times more radioactive material than the atomic bombs at Hiroshima and Nagasaki combined.
“One nuclear reactor exploded at Chernobyl. Indian Point, across the street there”—Bennie jerked his thumb in the direction of the plant—“has four. Davis intends to explode all of them. That radiation will kill a countless number of people: men, women, and children. The radiation will undoubtedly reach New York City. It’s just a mere forty miles from here to there. That’s why the military chose this site. And if it’s not contained, that radiation will leak into the soil and the water supply.”
She exhaled, dazed. “And Davis approves of this plan? Of all the innocent people—children even—who will die?”
“He said everyone in the city is a member of the NCP and that makes them the enemy. In his mind, he’s using one evil to eliminate a greater one.”
“No. That’s not true.” She pictured Raeley, her friend from Plymouth—a member of the NCP and ignorant of their malevolence. “Some people—probably many—have no idea what the NCP is really like. If they knew the truth, they would have a different opinion. They’d join us and fight against the NCP!”
“That’s what I said. Davis told me that the time has passed for making converts.”
“And where will Davis be when the power plant is exploding?”
“Conveniently out of distance from any radiation exposure. He’s told a select few to secretly program a safety override. The soldiers manning the plant that morning will have no idea what’s about to happen. When they realize they can’t contain the chain reaction, it will be too late to stop it.”
“Everyone here in Peekskill will die.”
“Without a doubt. But that’s why Davis has arranged transportation to get us out. We’ll be on our way to attack the detention center. Davis figured that would appease me.” Bennie cradled his head in his hands. “As though my life is somehow more valuable than anyone else’s!”
“This is horrendous. It’s unspeakable. He’s sadistic! And Davis is supposed to be one of the good guys?”
“It’s never that simple. Sometimes I wonder if I’m a ‘good guy.’” Bennie rubbed his eyes. “I can’t sleep at night. I keep asking myself how I can in good conscience cooperate, even remotely, with this plan. Is this a just war? The weight of what I know is killing me inside. But what can I do? Tell Starkley that a military coup is planning a nuclear explosion? If I tip the NCP off, who knows what they’ll do in response, what new horrors they’ll launch. What’s worse? The anarchist NCP or a fascist military coup? I’m hedged in by evil on every side. What am I supposed to do?” He raised his hands helplessly.
“I don’t know …” She chewed her lower lip. “But … we can pray. Maybe we can’t act; that doesn’t mean God can’t intervene and stop Davis from doing what he has planned. God could cause some interruption. We’ve got to pray. It’s all we can do.”
“I don’t want to be responsible for people’s deaths.”
“Is that why you told us to prepare to wear the red crown of martyrdom? You want us to know what we’re getting ourselves into?”
“It’s one thing to send an anonymous name into battle. It’s another to send friends.”
She looked down at her hands, wringing her fingers. “I—I think God wants me to die.”
Bennie leaned forward toward her. “God doesn’t want death. That wasn’t how He originally planned things. Man caused death.”
“Right.” She scowled. “It’s the price of freedom.”
“God allowed death to enter His world. But He didn’t leave it at that. Remember: He also transformed death.”
“Not that I could see.”
“What do you mean?”
She gazed ahead of her, remembering. “I saw my dead mother. Death didn’t look transforming then. I remember watching them lower her coffin into the ground, the last piece of my mom being buried away forever. If there was a transformation, it was a horrific one. I suddenly understood what the priest said every Ash Wednesday when he smeared the ashes on my forehead: Remember thou art dust and to dust thou shalt return. I didn’t want that for my mom. I wanted her with me: her eyes, bright and alert; her laughter ringing through the house; her arms folding around me warm and comforting. Instead, her body rotted away in the cold ground to nothingness. I didn’t want that for her.”
Amanda squeezed her legs together and rubbed her arms up and down. “I don’t want that for me. This life isn’t perfect, I get that. But I like this world. I like my life … I like the people in it. I don’t want to lose all of that.”
“Have you ever thought to ask yourself what you’ll gain instead?” Bennie cocked his head to the side. “You can’t escape death. All of us will die—it’s the one guarantee in this life. What matters is how we die.”
“W—what if I’m not ready?”
“We have three days.”
Her stomach churned. “Only three days left to live …”
“Three days to prepare to die. To lay down our lives.”
“I’m scared. Ever since I lost my mom, death has terrified me.”
“But you’ve come close to death a few times now, haven’t you?”
“I have, true. This is different though. It feels … premeditated somehow … as though I know, going into it, that I’m going to die. That’s what makes it so much worse.”
“We don’t know the day or the hour of our death. It doesn’t have to be a big battle; it could be just an ordinary day, driving in your car.”
“That’s how my mom died—in a car accident.”
Bennie grimaced. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“It’s okay.”
They fell silent.
After a moment, Bennie straightened his shoulders. “Thanks for talking.”
“I don’t know how much help I was.”
“I think you gave me the answer I already knew: prayer. May God somehow stop the horror that may happen. God, have mercy on us.”
Amanda stood. “If you need to talk again, I’m here for you.”
“Likewise.”
“Is it okay if I take today off from Council work? I’ve got so much to think about.”
“Absolutely. Take all the time you need.”
Amanda, her heart heavy, left the room and walked down the hallway toward the elevator, dragging her feet. Her head split with a headache that seemed to sear across her forehead. She pushed the button for her floor and then paused as she exited, staring at the spot at the end of the hallway, now vacant, where she had kissed Ethan not that long ago. Ethan waited for her—maybe in his room. She had promised to return.
Now she couldn’t bear to see him. She hurried to the sanctuary of her room. The blinds remained drawn, and she couldn’t see Chiara anywhere. The sleepless night and pendulum swing of emotions left her drained.
She collapsed on the bed. Ethan waited for her; she wouldn’t come.
Everything she had told him was wrong. The painting didn’t have anything to do with Ethan or her relationship with him. The Mother was here, but only with a death warrant. Her heart grew embittered. What kind of cruel, horrible joke was this? Why did Ethan even bother coming back? None of it mattered anymore. In as few as three days, she would die. She might as well just give up now.
She sank into a depressive, fitful half-sleep.
Knock, knock, knock!
She raised her head.
“Amanda? Amanda! It’s Ethan. Is everything okay?”
No, everything is not okay.
She tiptoed to the door and peered through the peephole. Ethan stood there, staring at her, yet unseeing. His mouth was a taut, grim line. Tears welled in her eyes, blocking the image. She pressed her fingers against the door, as though trying to reach him. But now they were divided once again.
He walked away. She hoped that Bennie would tell him she had to rest. She sank back onto the bed, exhausted.
The door clicked open and her eyes flew open. Disoriented, she sat up in bed. The afternoon sun filled the room between cracks in the blinds. Chiara walked into the room and sat down next to her on the bed.
“Been sleeping?”
Amanda rubbed her eyes. “I guess. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep.”
“You were up most of the night.”
“How’d you know?
“I just knew. What were you doing?”
Amanda turned away. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I hope it wasn’t what I told you—”
“No. No, it wasn’t that.”
Chiara drew her knees up and rested her chin on top of them. “I’ve got to tell you something.”
Amanda inwardly groaned. How much more did she have to hear today? But all she said was, “Go ahead.”
“I’m leaving.”
She sat up straight, fully awake now. “Leaving? How? When?”
“Dad spoke to Bennie today and he agreed. I can’t fight. I’m not going to help anyone here. It’s better for everyone if I go.”
Amanda nodded. If Chiara leaves, at least Dad would still have one daughter left alive when this is done. That’s if Dad survives.
“There’s more. Joe’s coming with me.”
“He is?”
She hung her head. “I couldn’t go by myself. Everyone I love is here. What if you all die? I’d be left completely alone …” Chiara wiped her eyes. “I know it’s selfish. Joe wanted to fight so badly—”
“Too badly.” Amanda cringed. “It’s not selfish. I think you’re saving more than Joe’s life; you’re saving his soul. None of us should ever desire to kill another person. It can’t become something you enjoy. But I’m afraid that’s where Joe is heading. I’m glad he’s going away with you.”
“He wasn’t too happy when I talked to him.” She sighed. “He never used to act like this. Before, he would always anticipate what I needed. Now he can’t see the need when it stares him in the face.”
“You’ve both lost yourselves a little in this … evil … but you’ll find each other again when you’re out of here. You love each other and that can heal this.”
Chiara took a deep breath. “I hope so. I never was as strong as you.”
“Me? Strong?” Amanda gave a forced laugh. “Do you know what I’ve been doing all day in this hotel room? I’m hiding. I’m too scared to leave.”
“Then let’s stay here together until I have to go.”
A cold realization poured over Amanda. “You’re leaving soon?”
“In the morning. The laundromat truck that delivers our supplies will drive us away.”
“Where are you going?”
Chiara shrugged. “Does it matter? Anywhere that’s not here.”
Amanda glanced around the barren, impersonal hotel room. This place had felt like a sanctuary when they first arrived; it now became a kind of prison with the death penalty awaiting her. Plumes of smoke rose from the power plant outside their window while fear clutched at her heart.
Chiara must have read her expression because she reached over and took Amanda’s hand. “Let’s think about home. It’s one of the few thoughts that comforts me. Imagine us all back there, driving around in Dad’s pickup or fishing in Glass Lake one summer afternoon …”
Chiara doesn’t know that I’ll never go home again. But I can’t tell her; it will just devastate her.
Amanda swallowed her tears and joined Chiara in the game of pretend: what they would do first back home, what their future would look like … all the painful imaginings that would never happen. Their dad brought them dinner and they sat together as a family. Probably for the last time.
The night grew late and their conversation ebbed. Their dad patted Chiara on the back. “I’m comforted knowing that you’ll be safe. I can’t tell you how relieved I am.” He turned to Amanda. “How I wish you would agree to go too.”
This was her chance! She could leave this all behind, run from what loomed before her: nuclear explosions and a violent death. She could live! One word and she could join Chiara and Joe in the morning.
But then she’d leave her dad alone. And what about Ethan who already placed his life in danger just by coming here? If she left now, what would his sacrifice mean? How could she abandon Bennie and the others?
Her shoulders slumped from the burden she felt weighing upon her. “I can’t leave.” God had her in a checkmate: cornered with no way out. So much for freedom …
Her dad reached over and squeezed her hand. “I knew you wouldn’t. I love my daughters, so different from each other in some ways, but both so precious to me.” He smiled through his tears. “Try to sleep. I’ll come back in the early morning to get you both.” He kissed them goodnight and left.
Amanda lay next to Chiara in the dark. “Hey, Chiara?”
“Hmm?”
“Can you promise me something?”
“Anything.”
“If … if something happens to me—”
“No! No, don’t talk like that! Don’t even start! I can’t handle it! Please, please don’t!” Chiara covered her ears.
“But I have to! It’s the only way I’ll have any peace!” Sitting up, Amanda grabbed Chiara’s hands and held them in her own. “Just listen. If something happens to me, but if Ethan somehow survives, promise me that you’ll find him. He has no one. Please promise you’ll find him and take care of him. Promise you won’t leave him alone.”
Chiara stared back wide-eyed. “Okay, alright. I promise. But you’ll be there to take care of him. You have to be.”
Amanda settled down on the bed. “Thank you.” She couldn’t say anything else; she couldn’t give Chiara false hope when she knew full well what faced her.
Chiara’s whisper trembled. “I’m scared.”
“Me too.”
“Do you remember how Mom used to pray the Our Father with us before bed every night? Can we pray that together now?”
So, they did, but all Amanda could hear was deliver us from evil.