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The Rebels in Our Midst

When the world falls apart who will rule?

By Nadia CowperthwaitePublished 3 years ago Updated 2 years ago 10 min read
5
The Rebels in Our Midst
Photo by Trey Musk on Unsplash

"Come along, Princess. It's time to head back," my guard said quietly behind me.

I continued to look down at my handheld water scanner, the dust flowing around my feet on the light breeze that came into the small cave we were in.

"I'm just finishing up, Sam," I replied. I wrapped my scarf over my head and across my face, tucked my heart locket in and threw the scanner in its bag.

We ran the few metres to the old, damaged humvee and slammed the doors against the brutal wind lashing us.

The sun was setting behind us as we sped towards the walls of the city. If we were late and the gates were already shut my father would stop me from going out tomorrow and punish Sam.

We made it by the skin of our teeth with the gates slamming shut moments after we entered, the gate keepers scurrying moving the bolts and beams into place.

People jumped out of the way as Sam sped over the crumbling black top towards the Castle. The Castle was a Catholic cathedral in the centre of the city before the Dereliction. My father and his group had since built rooms and a large fence.

We went through to the garage at the back and I went straight to my room to clean up, keeping my eyes down the whole way, careful to not have any interactions with the people who were in halls, though none of them made the effort to talk to me anyway.

Cleaned up, I sat on the edge of my bed brushing my hair and waiting to go to dinner. A knock on my door and I threw the brush on the bed and went out. Sam escorted me to dinner, and I held my head high as I entered the dining hall, still careful to not make direct eye contact with anyone. The dining hall was more reminiscent of a military mess than a real castle dining room.

"Hey dad," I said sitting beside him.

"Meridel! How was your day out in the dirt?" he laughed while shovelling food into his mouth. The others at the table snickered.

"Really good, thanks. I've got a fair bit of data to process," I replied.

A plate of stew and crusty bread was put in front of me. It was mostly vegetables and I didn't want to consider what the meat came from.

"There was another attack today," my father said, the rest of the table hushed. "There was an explosion outside of the market. A bag we think. Three people were killed, and a couple of people were injured."

"Have they released a statement this time?" I asked. I teared a piece of bread off to dip in my soup, the repetition of this conversation dulling the sadness surrounding the deaths.

"Shortly after a note was found inside the market nailed to the wall." He took a gulp of his soup, lifting the bowl to his lips, then added, "They have threatened more deaths until we hand over control of the city.”

“That’s ridiculous! They’re demands are getting more and more outlandish. They must know that won’t happen,” I said in disbelief.

Dad shrugged his shoulders, slurping up the last of his soup. “I need to be on the wall. Finish your food and go straight back to your room. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said giving me a peck on my forehead.

At 20 years old I felt stifled but under the circumstances there wasn’t much choice in the matter. The rebels were a danger in the city and the roamers were a danger outside. The only way I could help was by running the data from the day and keep looking for water.

On the way back to my room I realized that I’d left the scanner in the humvee.

The halls were deserted after dinner as most of the guards headed out on patrol or to bed so I wasn’t accompanied.

What’s the harm in nipping out to the garage? I thought, turning towards the back of the ancient cathedral, ducking out the door.

A man was working on the engine when I entered the garage. I quietly tiptoed past and reached in through the open window to grab the bag off the back seat.

"Good evening, Princess." I heard behind me. I turned to see a man in his late twenties standing at the front of the car, wiping the grease off his hands with a dirty rag.

"Oh! Hello. I just forgot my bag," I said walking around him and keeping my eyes down once again.

"Drink?" he asked holding out a small cup with brown liquor in it.

I stopped. Usually I would say no but something inside snapped and I reached for the cup.

I had tried small amounts of alcohol, but my father never allowed more than a small glass of wine or beer depending on what the scavenger team brought back. This was not like that. I swilled it around my mouth and swallowed, the heat burning my tongue and throat, warmth flowed to my belly.

I coughed handing the plastic cup back. “Thanks.”

“Long day?” he asked, looking back under the bonnet.

“A lot on my mind,” I said, sitting on a stool next to the toolbox and put my head in my hands.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“Hand me that wrench,” he said, gesturing towards the toolbox, head still buried in the engine.

I picked it up and slapped it in his hand.

“Thanks.”

Several minutes of silence followed.

I huffed a sigh and said, “I’m sick of it all. The death, the heat, the attacks, the walls. All of it.”

He made a sound like a stifled laugh.

"What?" I felt my anger bubbling below the surface.

"If only it was so simple," he said standing up and pouring himself a drink.

"I'm not saying it's simple."

"Who is doing the attacks?" he asked, then threw the drink back.

"The rebels."

"The rebels?" He passed me another full cup.

"Yes."

He laughed.

"What?" My voice raised, I was beginning to hate this man.

"Sorry. Look, there's more to it."

I raised my eyebrows, "Go on."

"I need to show you something," he said grabbing his coat off the side mirror of the humvee.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't even know your name." I started to walk towards the door.

He held out his hand towards me. "Darius."

"Meridel." I shook his hand tentatively.

"Nice to meet you. Let's go." He headed to the roller door to the street.

"I can't just go."

"You want answers. I'll give them to you," he said.

I shook my head and followed him.

The streets were deserted, the curfew taking effect from eight o'clock. We kept to the shadows, my heart beating so hard I thought Darius could surely hear it.

We didn't go far before turning down an alley and through a door that looked like it hadn't been used in years. A man was sitting on a stool just inside the door. He nodded to Darius as we passed him before walking down some steps into a massive underground car park.

There were tents and shacks covering the entire space. Children ran around, fires in drums were dotted around providing light.

"What is this place?" I asked, eyes wide.

"These are your people, princess."

"I'm not a real princess and you know it. It's just my father's silly idea," I said feeling suddenly embarrassed with the title.

He led me down another level that was also filled with hundreds of people in tents, then down to a third level that was more utilitarian than the above levels.

There was a kitchen with people cooking, and others sitting around tables eating. There were mismatched tables covered in maps, shelves made of bricks and wood against a wall. He took me past it all and stopped to say hello to the people we passed.

We went through a door at the back of the large area. It was a small room with a bed. It must have been an office before the Dereliction. He had few personal effects but many books and computer equipment was spread across the desk.

"You just wanted to get me to your bedroom?" I started to turn.

He laughed, "No, that's not why we're here, princess." He sat on the edge of his bed and gestured to the chair at the desk. "There are no rebels. Do those people look armed to the teeth? Do they look strong?"

"I don't understand." A thousand thoughts were running through my mind as I tried to put the pieces together.

"I found this place a few years ago. I went all over the city finding the people who had nowhere and brought them here or to one of the other car parks we have found since. They're terrified, but not of the rebels, of your father."

"But he protects them. The rebels are killing the people." I shook my head. I knew my father could be a tough leader, he could hand out cruel punishments when he felt it was needed, but this was too much.

"He's using the rebels as an excuse, for the curfew, for the laws. He's using the fear of the rebels to control the city and stay in power."

"Are you saying he's planted the bombs?"

"Him and his inner circle." He nodded sadly.

I was silent on the walk home. Once inside, I went to my father's room. He was still out on patrol as were most of the inhabitants of the castle, so it was easy to sneak in. I looked around but didn't find much of interest until I was looking in his cupboard. There was a small door at the back and I pushed through his clothes into a room beyond.

There were several doors surrounding the room, a large table in the middle, shelves lined the walls holding electronics, buckets, large bottles, gas cylinders, and all manner of things that I had no name for. I stood at the table tring to make sense of what was on it.

Two backpacks sat side by side, charges were beside them with wires and handheld two-way radios.

I heard noises outside the doors. My heart stopped for a moment.

My father stepped through the door that I’d stupidly left open.

"Meridel! What is going on?" he yelled.

One of the other doors opened, then another. Other men came in, most of them I knew.

"What is this, dad?"

"Never you mind, girl. Go back to your room."

"You killed those people," I said.

"It was for the greater good," he said, stepping towards me.

"Don't touch me," I hissed.

I could hear running footsteps outside as my father grabbed my arm.

"Ow, you're hurting me," I cried.

A gun appeared through the clothes hiding the door and touched his head.

"Let her go." It was Darius.

He stepped through the door. The other men started to pull their pistols out.

"I will kill him, boys. Drop your weapons."

I heard the clunking sound of metal hitting the floor.

Sam also popped out of the clothes behind Darius and used zip-ties to hold my father's hands then used a two-way to call the head guard. It wasn't long before my father and the other men were taken away.

I slipped back to my room and packed the few items I had in a bag with my battered laptop and water scanner and slunk out to the still dark street.

"Where are you going to go?" Darius asked from the shadows.

"No idea."

"There's a place for you below. You could do a lot of good," he said reaching for the large bag slung across my back.

"Thank you," I said following him once again into the alley towards the underground car park.

Sci Fi
5

About the Creator

Nadia Cowperthwaite

Aussie mum living in the Outback with a passion to share stories.

I have degrees in journalism and media, an MBA, currently undertaking a research degree.

Facebook: @nadiacowper

Instagram: @nadiacowper

TikTok: @nadiacowper

Twitter: @nadiacowper

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