Chapter 63

All American refugees must be given asylum in Affinity camps. They may not be permitted to join our ranks, but we will give them the chance to prove themselves regardless of any previous affiliations.

—Internal memorandum from Affinity

Lunch was awkward. Carter, who normally provided the conversation topics, was staying very quiet. Mia didn’t want to accidentally tell Andrew about the militia or go into her meeting this morning, leaving little to discuss. Once they were done eating the group left the mess hall.

“We still have an hour,” Carter said. “I’m going to take a walk around.”

“Do you want some company?” Mia asked.

“No,” Carter said. “I’ll see you two at the fields.”

He ran off, leaving Andrew and Mia alone.

“Just the two of us,” Mia said. “It’s been a while.”

Andrew’s eyes shifted back and forth.

“Are your memories coming back?” Mia asked.

Andrew nodded. “Not all of them,” he said. “I still don’t remember you on the beach, or my arrival at the militia camp. It’s like they’re coming in backward too.”

“And the headaches?” Mia asked.

“Better,” he said.

“Good,” Mia said.

She knew his memory of kissing her was gone. She wondered if Andrew remembered walking in on Mia and Carter. That was the night Mia’s world collapsed for the second time.

“What are your thoughts on Affinity?” Mia asked.

“Where else would we go?” Andrew asked.

Mia shrugged.

“Travel the world,” Mia said. “Just the two of us. Start a life together.”

Andrew’s eyes widened. Mia wondered if his feelings for her were lost as well.

“Could you do that?” Andrew asked. “Knowing what you know now, could you walk away from the fight?”

“Do you think Affinity will win?” Mia asked. “Stop the Registry and mandatory service?”

“I’m not sure,” Andrew said. “And I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mia, you care about people,” he said. “Would you be happy knowing there was suffering going on in the world? When you had a chance to help stop it, even if you were doing something small like cooking food for a group of rebels, could you walk away?”

Mia didn’t have a response. Cooking food didn’t seem like a good way to help when she had the option of contributing so much more.

“What I’m trying to say,” Andrew said, “is that I know you. If we left this place you would be miserable.”

“I’d be miserable without you,” Mia said.

Andrew smiled and kicked the ground a little. He put his hands in his pockets and looked at the sky.

“I’m not good at this,” he said.

“At what?”

“That night in Saint Louis,” he said. “When you tried to kiss me I should have let you.”

“You did,” Mia said.

Andrew’s eyebrows scrunched up. His lips pressed together in a quizzical look.

“You kissed me once,” Mia said. “It was right before Grant attacked.”

Mia hoped this would bring some comfort to Andrew.

“So you don’t need to worry about being bad at this,” Mia said. “You showed me how you feel already.”

Andrew’s lips flattened out and his eyebrows relaxed. Instead of seeming calmer though it was like a new anger ignited inside of him. Mia could tell he was clenching his jaw.

“What’s wrong?” Mia asked.

She lifted her hand to touch his cheek. He stepped back.

“They took that from me,” Andrew said.

His eyes went vacant. He was somewhere else.

“I’m still here,” Mia said.

“They ripped everything from me,” Andrew said.

“It’s over,” Mia said. “Look to the future.”

Mia saw Andrew’s fists were clenched into tight balls. He lifted his arm and Mia took a step back. He turned around at the last second and slammed his fist into the wooden building. Mia heard the sick crack of his knuckles making contact with the wall.

She rushed toward him and grabbed his arm, pulling his hand into hers. All four of his knuckles were sliced open. The skin around them was growing red. Mia expected to see a dent in the wall after how hard he had hit the building. Mia looked at Andrew. He didn’t appear to be in any pain.

“Why did you do that?” Mia asked.

He kept his head straight. Mia pried his fist open. His fingers were shaking and some blood was starting to roll down. His hand was starting to swell up.

“You need a doctor,” Mia said.

“What?” Andrew asked.

He shook his head and pulled his hand away. She saw his face fill with pain and shock.

“Andrew, what’s going on?” Mia asked.

“Tell Zack I’ll be late,” he said. “I need to see Dr. Drum.”

Andrew started walking away, cradling his hand.

“Wait,” Mia said. “I’ll go with you.”

Andrew didn’t stop or turn around; instead he picked up his pace. Mia was too stunned to chase after him. She had just witnessed the effects the militia had had on Andrew. Zack was right; if he discovered their existence right outside the gate, Andrew would be likely to burn the whole jungle down to get back at them. Now the militia rose as a priority on Mia’s list. She needed to find out what they wanted.