Against All Odds || A Selection Fanfiction

Chapter 17|| In the Rebels Hands

Maxon's POV
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As soon as he heard her voice, it brought him to the surface of reality.
"Take me instead, and leave this prince alone."
He assumed she was referring to him, but it couldn't be possible. She was gone, deceased, dead. He was just having a bad dream, that's all. This couldn't be real, she couldn't really be here. If she was, she wouldn't have sacrificed herself for me, right?
I tried to open my eyes to see if she was there. But alas, I could not escape the void of darkness that kept me from the light. I felt like I was in a state of motionlessness, not able to move, speak, or react to anything around me. I could hear everything though, and it pained me not to be able to help.
Suddenly, I felt two sets of burly arms pick me up and toss me into a caravan. I grunted as I hit the solid ground, one of the few things I was able to do. My head knocked into something soft, and I heard a yelp. That got me out of my stupor. Then, as if by some miracle, I felt like I could move again, speak again. I didn't know what had come over me, but I was glad it did. That's when I felt the chill race down my spine. That voice, it was so familiar. It was almost like it was- no, I told myself, it cannot be. But then. A sudden hope searched through me. Preparing myself for the worst, but expecting the best outcome, I whispered, "America, my dear? Is that you?" My voice was rough, and my throat was scratchy as I said this. It seems like it was forever, as I painstakingly waited for a response. When one finally came, the sweet sound of her voice filled me with happiness. "I told you, I'm not your dear. Life threatening predicament or not." The lasting tone in her voice was obvious as I joined in on the fun. But she was right. We were now in the hands of the rebels, and who knows what they wanted us for.
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A/N: Yay! And ending to a yet another chapter. I know I have not updated recently, but I will try my best to update. Thanks!