The Rebel (#Wattys2016)

58. June

Lady June Hayroom of Waverly, the only Five chosen for Prince Skander Schreave's Selection caressed her rifle's trigger. She took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and forced herself to keep her mind blank, to only feel the wind that pushed her blonde curls into her face and the trunk of the tree on which she leaned on. Fallen leaves surrounded her, and the only sound came from the howling of the wind through the trees' branches. Fall was coming. June used to love fall. Maybe she would love it again, once all of it was over. She flinched and stopped herself from thinking about it. About her. She'd been tied to a chair and both her legs were broken and Regina had been forced to whip her and behind them all, standing proud on the balcony that overlooked the gardens, stood a grinning monster. Who teased Skander. He had smiled and pointed at his fallen princess and mocked them both to hell and back, until not even Jasper could stand it. Not even Jasper, who'd basically grown up in the army, where they called every slight underachiever names, where they tortured information out of people. Not even Jasper could stand it.

Former Prince Skander had gone berserk. He'd taken off running, and the look in his eyes alone terrified everybody into letting him out of the bunker, alone, with only a jacket to keep him warm. It had taken them all a few minutes to recover. Jasper had organized a search party, what was left of the Royal Campaign Cabinet had begun putting together a public response, and nobody had noticed a small, blonde haired girl who silently walked into the armory, grabbed a rifle, some ammo and a backpack full of equipment, and took off into the wilderness that surrounded the bunker. They were too busy searching for Skander, but they would not find him. This much June knew. Skander would not be found unless he wanted to be found, and June had a strong feeling he didn't. So she'd walked in the direction of the Palace for what seemed like hours but really it had only been minutes. She'd breathed in the wilderness, exhaled the freedom. She'd walked and walked and walked until her legs were sore and she was forced to sit down and rest for a moment.

Now, she stared at a small creek. Her newly full water canteen rested besides her as she stared at the water and caressed her rifle's trigger. She knew how to shoot. She wasn't very good at it, but she knew how to get the job done. She had her father to thank for that. While her mother had stayed home and taught her lovely daughter how to paint and sing and play the piano, June's father had gone out into the woods to hunt. Nobody could know, though, as Fives were required to be artists, not hunters. He'd taught June how to shoot when she was nine, before any real work was required of her, and now she was a pretty decent shot. June sighed and stood up, picking her belongings. She put them in the backpack she'd stolen and put it over her shoulders. After walking for so long, the extra weight pressed down on her legs like a million tons of concrete, but she gritted her teeth and turned around, looking at the direction where, a few kilometers away, stood the Palace. She checked her compass, checked her rifle, and walked.

And walked. And walked. And walked.

By the time she'd made it to the outskirts of the city, June was sweating. Salty sweat poured down her face and into her lips, but she ignored it as she took out the map she'd found. She had to circle the main square to come to the back of the Palace. There, she knew she'd find the south wall, where she'd seen the rebels tie Adeen. After Regina had been taken back to the dungeons and Adeen was unconscious, the rebels had taken her, still bleeding and partly naked, to the wall. There, they had tied her up by her wrists, and she hung there, limp. They'd broadcasted it all.

It took her another hour and a half to circle through alleyways, hiding in the shadows and trying her best to stick to the practically non-existent woods. But she'd made it. The tall walls greeted her, and she knew better than to come close. Instead, she stuck to the trees that surrounded them, hiding in the little cover they provided. It was dark now, a blessing, since she didn't have to hide so much. June sat on a rock besides a tree, a good seventy meters away from the walls. And from the figure hanging from them. She took out her binoculars, activated the night vision, and surveyed the walls. Adeen was still hanging, looking down at the ground, blood pouring out her wounds. The rebels needed her alive, though, and so June watched as two doctors cleaned her wounds, introduced an IV into her arm, and started pumping extra blood into her. No painkillers, no putting her down so she could rest, no nothing. All they did was clean her wounds and then go back into the Palace's grounds. Two guards flanked each of Adeen's sides, but June knew that on top of the walls snipers were pointing their own rifles to the woods, too trigger happy to make June comfortable.