Chapter 11

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Andrews lay on an old twin sized mattress he had to call a bed, he lay cold, no heat coming from anywhere in the hut he assigned. He lay staring. Thinking. In the years he worked for The New Government he saw many faces come and go many students endure and the same old training. But there was something about this lot that was different. Aside from the girl he raised since infantry being part of this. Her comrades had something about them. A certain passion, spirit. Something he hadn't seen since he was in their position. Then of course there was Sykes. For as long as he could remember, Sykes was always cold, distant, and definitely hiding something. Yet from everyone that Andrews had asked he got the same answers. "If you knew. You'd be the same". It didn't clear up anything. He was tired of living in a world with vague nothing for answers. They say Sykes lost it all in the outbreak. YET THATS NO EXCUSE Andrews thought to himself

WE ALL LOST SOMETHING THAT DAY. FAMILY, FRIENDS, COMMUNITY. EVERYONE HAS BATTLE SCARS. JUST BECAUSE HIS ARE VISIBLE DOESNT MAKE THEM ANY MORE IMPORTANT. THEY'RE JUST A SYMBOL FOR HOW FUCKED UP WE ALL ARE INSIDE. AND THEN THERE'S THOSE TRAITORS HE SO DESPERATELY WANTS RID OF. WHY? WHY NOW. AND WHAT IS THE CONNECTION. WE ARREST ANF TORTURE REBELS EVERY DAY. WHY ARE THESE ONES SO IMPORTANT?

WHAT AM I GONNA DO? HOW CAN I INVESTIGATE THIS AND KEEP EMILY SAFE. And then the idea hit, the one thing he'd never imagine doing in a million years. FUCK. I NEED THE KID'S HELP

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