87 Below

Chapter 15: Counterfeit

The entire camp was bustling with anticipation. Nobody kept still as they prepared to launch the attack. Even the kids lent a hand, moving the warehouse barricades into position.

The warehouse looked like a force to be reckoned with. The somber faces of the camp stared up at Atlas as he went over the battle plan one final time. Along with the faces he had grown to know, Atlas saw many new ones. The reinforcements had arrived early that morning. Twenty or so women now stood comfortably in their entirely male ranks.

Colin had filled him in on many details about the world's current state to help with his advancement speech, including the final installment of the 'Purge Initiative' that had been enacted five years ago.

"They have silenced us, beaten us, imprisoned us. We will not bow to The Projects!", Atlas shouted, he raised a fist into the air. Fifty other arms, large and small, copied his as they cheered. It was a battle cry; A cry for freedom. Only Atlas did not share their sentiment.

Stepping down from the stage, he pushed through the thick and tense crowd. He had motivated the troops, and now it was time to initiate phase two. Atlas searched for those emerald eyes as he marched to the warehouse. Hope was standing in the middle of the warehouse, which was bustling with battle preparations. She was handing out orders left and right as Atlas stepped towards her. She spun to meet him and looked prepared to offer him a command. 

Smiling, she stopped herself, "Hey," she nodded. Atlas shook his head with dismay. His doubts continued muddling his thoughts. He prayed his eyes could convey his fears and confusion. His memories had yet to return ultimately. His enthusiasm for a fight was simply not there. While he could put on a good show, his speech had merely been words he knew he should say. Those words had meant nothing to him.

Atlas could feel the pressure in his head growing as he stared into her steady gaze. His only motivation was saving Adira, and his promise was the only concrete memory he could cling to. Even that memory was a thought. No images surfaced as he bit the inside of his cheek. A soft hand sent warmth throughout his body.

Hope's eyes were now sympathetic to his internal pleas. No words needed to be spoken as the duo headed towards the head of the formation. Everyone was lining up to leave.

"I'm ready to give them a piece of my mind." Atlas whipped around.

Will was standing behind him in all black combat gear. The shoulder padding hung awkwardly on his lean, thin frame. His usually messy blonde hair was now smoothed down with sweat. He was serious as he followed close behind Atlas and Hope. Before Atlas could respond, Hope crossed her arms and gave the boy a stern look.

"Absolutely not," she said. Her voice was threatening as Will protested. She pointed to the warehouse and ignored his complaints, "You have to stay here with the other kids. No exceptions."

"But I was trapped too! I-"

"William," Atlas cut in. He squatted down to meet the boy's large hazel eyes, "You need to stay here. You're one of the oldest. You can protect them. Besides, it's safer there."

Will sighed and, reluctantly, nodded. He turned and shuffled back towards camp. Before entering the large wooden doors, Will turned to look at the pair before their departure. The boy forced a smile, and his sulking shoulders finally disappeared into the building.

Hope never took her eyes off of the doors. It was like she was waiting for Will to make another grand appearance. Her vision glassed over as she stared. 

"Admiral," Colin's husky voice spoke from Atlas' side, "We are ready to advance." 

Atlas scanned the eager faces of the resistance. They were all waiting for him. This high power burdened him as he led the masses, but he wasn't sure if he deserved it. His needs were selfish. His passions were nothing more than a whimsical promise. With a blank expression, he turned to his companion. Hope had pulled her eyes from the building and was awaiting the next order. 

"For freedom," Atlas whispered as he held his fist up to the sky again. His half-hearted words were taken in with hope. They were ready to fight. Atlas and Hope assumed their positions in the second battalion, following close behind the first battalion's lead. The rhythmic sound of footfalls flooded Atlas' ears as he numbly continued onward. His eyes were forward in determination. 

This has to work.

He cared for this woman. He tried one last time to will those foggy memories into something tangible. Her terrified face screamed his name, just like in his dream, and haunted him. A silent prayer was sent for her safety as the second battalion peeled off into the woods. They had already covered a lot of ground. Now it was up to the first battalion to lure the ground units to the trees, giving the resistance an advantage. 

Atlas' thoughts were ripped back into reality. Gunshots sounded, and screams of agony filled the air. It had begun.