The Queer Rebels

Chapter 50: Grieving

The drive back to the Queer Rebels' compound is somber and silent. The weight of what happened in Solistad presses down on us, making the air in the car feel so thick it's suffocating.

None of us speak, each lost in our own thoughts and grief as the landscape outside blurs into nothingness, an indifferent backdrop to the turmoil inside the car.

My mind is trapped, replaying the events over and over, searching for some way to make sense of the chaos.

Why did we run?

Was Harry just delusional from the drugs?

If we had convinced Harry to stay in the room, would he still be alive?

Yes. The answer to that last question is a definitive yes. And I'm sure once the technician had looked at my messages, they would have realized that I hadn't done anything wrong.

So that leads me back to the first question: Why did we run?

It gnaws at me, an insistent whisper that won't be silenced. The more I think about it, the more doubt creeps in, wrapping itself around my heart like a vise.

Solistad had seemed like a utopia, a place where acceptance and kindness thrived. They were helping Harry, and then everything went to chaos so fast.

Sure, they accused me of spying, but that could've been easily cleared up with some patience. Instead, we fled like fugitives, abandoning the hope Solistad had offered us.

Regret wells up inside me, a bitter taste that I can't swallow down. I glance at Alex and Renee in the rearview mirror. They're staring out the windows, their faces pale and drawn, the same confusion and sorrow etched into their expressions.

Solistad offered a glimpse of what we've been fighting for, and now it feels like we've lost everything. We're not just leaving behind a city; we're leaving behind a dream.

The silence in the car becomes unbearable, a heavy blanket that smothers any attempt at conversation. My thoughts drift to mortality and the fragility of life, circling the same dark thoughts over and over.

Losing Harry has brought a stark realization crashing down on me: we are not invincible. This fight we're in, this struggle for a better world, is filled with danger and uncertainty. Any one of us could be lost at any moment.

What drives us to keep going? What gives our lives meaning when the cost is so high?

For me, it's the dream of a world where Dimstad can be as accepting and beautiful as Solistad seemed to be. I want to fight for that future, a future where people can live without fear, where diversity is celebrated, not oppressed. I want to see a world where I can be myself. And a world where Marcy and I can be together, truly together, without hiding, without running.

Marcy is my guiding light. Thinking of her gives me strength, a reason to keep fighting, even when everything feels hopeless.

As I drive, I think about her last messages. They're a reminder that she's out there, waiting for me.

I want to share that world with her, the world we glimpsed in Solistad, even if it was only for a moment. To walk through streets where people of all backgrounds and identities live openly and freely. And to see her smile without the shadows of fear and uncertainty in her eyes.

The car's engine hums steadily, a constant backdrop to my swirling thoughts. My eyelids are heavy, and I know Alex and Renee must be just as drained as I am. We spent the previous day driving down to Solistad, arriving late at night, only to be thrown into the chaos of Harry's emergency surgery. Besides those few hours sleeping upright in chairs, there's been no time to rest, no time to process anything.