Blood in the Water

One

My mother had her allegiances, and in turn, I had mine. It had always been them versus us, and it had never occurred there could be any other way. They were the bad guys, and we were simply fighting for our freedom.

There had been a war for as long as I could remember. Countless people had lost their lives, rebellion after the rebellion broke down and another always resurfaced. That's how it had always been and how it would probably always be.

I looked over at my mother, her cold eyes found mine. She didn't smile, she didn't even show any signs of recognition. Except her head bowed and she looked at the map again. That's how it was, the only sign my mother was there was the passion she had in her eyes when she spoke of a plan.

People crowded around her, nodding their heads at the scribbles on the map. I kept looking over at her, but our eyes never met again. She didn't like looking at me, I knew she didn't. I looked too much like him.

I took a deep breath and looked at the gun resting on my lap. My legs curled under my body; I was warm - for now. Soon we would have to leave this camp, and creep around in the snow for God knows how long. I would have to use this gun on someone - I wouldn't be given an option. Because to them, we were the bad guys. There was never any doubt about that.

The candle in the burner flickered around the tent, creating shadows that danced on the sheeting. There were so many people stuffed into a small tent, all raring to go on the next run.

"Don't look at it like that." Nash's shadow covered my own and I looked up at him. "It's gonna be OK Cas."

Nash didn't even have to ask what I was feeling, he could probably feel the nervous energy radiating off me.

I looked down again and took another deep breath. "I've maybe done a million of these runs and I always feel like I'm doing the wrong thing," I whispered. Nash sighed and perched on the end of the desk, facing me.

"We do this for the cause, Cas." His tone was affirming like he'd said it a million times. He probably had. "And a soldier doesn't fight because he hates what's in front of him, he fights because he loves what's behind him, Cas."

I thought about it and considered it for a minute. What did I really leave behind every time we stepped across the border? A smile tugged at my lips. Nothing. I left nothing.

"I'm not a soldier." I shook my head and pocketed the gun. "I'm just fighting because I don't have any other choice." I was sighing again.

"Don't let Moira hear that." Nash shook his head and stood up. I could see his own gun poking out the side - it didn't fill me with any kind of security. It really did say something when everyone had to walk around camp with some sort of gun.

"Never," I whispered, standing up to be eye-level as Nash. "Are you ready for the run?"

"Always." Nash was tall, and probably could be considered handsome. Brown hair, brown eyes, a smattering of freckles. But Nash was like a brother to me. "Did you do your pre-run meltdown?" His tone was light-hearted, but his eyes said otherwise.

Nash never really said much to me, and when he did it was either pre-run talk or suffocating words that left me reeling - and not in a good way. Nash was much like his brother, Embery. Both cared deeply about my well-being, and were the only people I could consider my friends.

"Just about to do it now." I smiled, but it didn't reach my eyes. Nash reached out and patted my hair - the gesture somewhat comforting.

"Don't panic too much Cas, it's gonna run smoothly. It always does." But there was that edge to his voice again. I simply nodded and turned away trying to even out my breath.