Chapter Text
Weeks crawled by and turned into months. After a month the other recruits quit giving Charlie a hard time. After two she had…friends, although she didn’t like that much….and after a few more other recruits started looking to her for protection. She even got used to sleeping through Miles’ snoring (he still hadn’t touched her, it was starting to feel like a pointless distinction) and Monroe pressed against her back like a full-size hot-water bottle.
It scared her how easy it got.
Then one morning she woke up cold, splayed out like a starfish in the heavy white sheets. She slid out of bed, tiles cold against her feet, and went to see where they were, trailing the sheet along with her. There was no sign of Monroe, but Miles was leaning over the huge, mahogany desk,. His weight was braced on one arm, fingers splayed against the sunlit map, and he was tracing routes with a compass.
There was a stack of worn canvas bags at the door and the machine guns had been taken down off the walls. She hesitated, curling her foot around her other leg. ‘Miles?’ she said. ‘What’s going on.’
He glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows knit intently over dark eyes, and away again. ‘Georgia struck across the border’ he said. ‘They’re claiming territory. Bass and I need to be there.’
‘Leading from the front,’ she said.
That earned her a pleased half-smile over his leather-padded shoulder. ‘That’s right. Bass already has a division stationed down there, but we need to get them reinforcements in time or they’ll be overrun.
There had been a time that Charlie would have cheered that. It was harder now, even beyond her extremely complicated feelings for Miles and Monroe. People she knew would be there, families and parents. The militia was flawed, but the people weren’t. Not all of them.
Even some of the flawed ones, she cared about.
‘Miles.’ She tugged his arm.
He heaved an exasperated sign and frowned at her, ‘What?’
She stood up on her tiptoes and hugged him, pressing her fists against his shoulder-blades. ‘You be careful? Take care of yourelf, take care of Monroe?’
Warm arms hugged her back, carefully proper, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. ‘We’ll be fine, Charlie. We’ve come through worse without a scratch.’
That wasn’t true. She’d seen the scars those non-existent scratches had left on them both. Taking a deep breath – she could do this – she grabbed Miles face in both hands and kissed him. A proper kiss, the sort of kiss he throatily promised when Monroe was inside her or touching her. Her thumbs stroked the hard planes of his cheekbones, finding the gritty lines under the skin where fractures had healed, and her lips moved hungrily against his.
Miles stood stock-still for a second, hardly even breathing, then grabbed her hips and tugged her close. His hand slid round to cup her backside, squeezing the scant curve, while she rubbed her cotton covered thigh against the hard ridge of his erection.
He choked a groan into her mouth, his hands rough and hungry against her skin, but he was the one to push her back. ‘I have to go,’ he said. His eyes dropped to her chest and lingered for a second before he dragged them away. ‘Charlie give me a break.’
The sheet had slipped, she realized, exposing most of one breast and all of the other. Her nipple was a tight pink bud, tender to the scrape of a sheet as she covered herself up again.
He touched her chin, lifting her face with his knuckle. ‘Why today, Charlie?'
‘I want you home safe,’ she said.
The brush of his finger up her jaw and along her cheek made her shiver. ‘Better motivation to keep my hide intact than I’ve had in a long time,’ he said. ‘I’ll be fine, I'll be home.’
She nodded, and smiled bravely, as he rolled up his map and slung his bag over his shoulder on the way out of the room. The door had barely swung shut when he kicked it open again, picking her up and swinging her around before claiming another kiss.
‘For luck,’ he said, setting her back on her feet. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
Then he was gone. Charlie sighed, rubbing her fingers over her lips. He wouldn’t see her when he got back. She and Danny would be gone by nightfall. By the time Monroe and Miles got back from the Georgia border they’d be in the Plains Nation.
She dropped the sheet and darted back into the bedroom, dressing and getting changed with the same focus she had when she started the walk to Chicago. Most of the stuff was hers from before – her spare militia uniform and any gifts were left were they lay. She did take the gun though, checking the mechanism of the heavy silver pistol with small, neat hands.
There was pride and being stupid.
She tucked the gun into the back of her jeans and shrugged her militia jacket on over it. 15 minutes and she was ready to go. Swinging the bag up onto her back she ran down stairs and join the crowd of loyal Monrovian’s in the huge courtyard. The people of Philadelphia did love Monroe. They cheered and whistled as the militia carts rolled out into the streets, black and white flags snapping in the wind, with the mounted soldiers behind them.
Charlie dropped the bag between her feet where it wouldn’t be seen, stepping on the strap just in case some ambitious little pick-pocket got the wrong idea. She craned her neck, ignoring the bump and push from people around her, and searched for Miles and Monroe, catching a glimpse of Monroe’s sandy head first. He was riding a black horse – of course, he was – that pranced and tossed its narrow head at the noise. The only reason she was there was so they’d see her and not think anything of it, but she went all tight and breathless when she waved anyhow. She wanted him to see her.
He did – flashing that grin that made her understand what Miles saw in him - and leant over to nudge Miles. The General was riding a much more prosaic looking white and brown, solid pony. She gave them both a quick smile, hoping nerves didn’t show in her face and waved them off.
She was just dropping her hand when she saw another familiar face, marching along in militia blue. Nate. Jason, she corrected herself. He’d looked better in civilian clothes, playing her nomad hero boy. He’d betrayed them a couple of times and he’d saved her life twice. Charlie wasn’t entirely sure what that made him now.
Whatever it was, it seemed fair enough to wave to him too. Dark eyes gave a steady look, half turning to keep her in sight, and then he was gone. Charlie took a deep breath and shook her head, crouching to grab her bag. If things went to plan, she wasn’t going to see either of them again.
If things didn’t go to plan...she’d be dead, or locked up in the cells. For good.
She hitched her bag up on her shoulder and ducked back inside, walking briskly through the long, elegant halls. Her body wanted to run, her breath scratching in her throat and her heart thumping against her ribs, but that would just draw attention. Monroe wouldn’t trust her, not yet, one of the officers – probably Jeremy – would be set to watch her.
Moving faster than he expected was her best chance. If Danny agreed. She ran up the stairs to his floor, taking the stairs two at a time, flashing smiles at the people she knew. Reaching the narrow door to his quarters - she’d asked why he couldn’t be on the same level as theme, Monroe said it was so she couldn’t run to him – and rapped the door.
It popped open right away and Danny scrambled out, bag over his shoulder and still tucking his shirt into his trousers.
‘We’re going?’ he said.
She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath through her nose. ‘We’re going. We just need to get mom.’
Danny scraped his hand through his hair, making it stand up and poke out around his ears. He’d refused to let her cut it and he wasn’t a kid anymore. It had been a long trip for him too. She still wanted to though.
‘Maybe we should have told her?’ he said.
‘No,’ she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him down the stairs. ‘She doesn’t do spontaneous, if she knew what we’d planned she’d have kept putting it off and off until it was perfect.’
‘We taking horses?’
Charlie hesitated, considering it again. It would be quicker, but it took time to get the horses saddled and signed out. Not to mention that Jeremy would know where they were going the minute he heard. If they walked, Jeremy might not realize they had gone until this evening.
‘Walk,’ she said, tugging his arm. ‘Just walk fast.’
They slipped out through a side gate, tagging along with a group of other recruits so the guard didn’t notice them. Once out of sight of the walls they dropped back and changed direction, heading for the power plant at a jog.
Charlie reached for her brother’s hand as they approached the crumbling old building. If she was right, there’d only be a skeleton guard left until reinforcements arrived. If – such a big word for only having two letters.
Danny gave her hand a fierce squeeze, nodding at her encouragingly, and stepped back. Ok. She took a deep breath, lifted her chin and thought of Monroe. Miles was good at bullying his way into places, but Monroe just walked in like he belonged.
She strode up to the front door and banged on it impatiently. The slot in the door snicked open and watery blue eyes peered out.
‘I’m visiting my mother,’ Charlie said, letting her eyes slid away from him as if she was bored.
‘And you are?’
That was her cue to glare, all flashing eyes and affronted chin. ‘I’m Charlotte Matheson,’ she said, annoyance dripping from her voice. ‘General Matheson’s-‘
He sniggered behind his grill. ‘Oh yeah,’ he said. ‘We know what you are.’
The tension bled out of Charlie’s spine like someone had opened a tap. Jerks were easy, jerks were stupid. They gave you the stick to beat them with.
‘Oh you do?’ she said, curling her lip in a subtle sneer. ‘Good. The general does love it when people know what I am. He promoted the last man didn’t he?’ she said glancing over her shoulder.
He crossed his arms, muscles flexing under his t-shirt, and smiled pleasantly. ‘Naw,’ he said. ‘He just killed him, eventually.’
‘Killed, promoted,’ Charlie said, turning back to the door. She flashed her sweetest, nastiest smile. ‘I get them confused. Now what was I again?’
‘…the Generals' guest,’ the guard said, eyes going tight at the corner. ‘I didn’t mean anything, ma’am.’
He wrestled the door open and waved them through, sweating though his uniform in a bleak funk. Miles still wouldn’t talk about what he’d done that made everyone so scared of him. Whatever it had been, it was effective.
Charlie rolled her eyes at him and strode by like there was nothing out of the ordinary in them being here alone. With Danny a carefully measured pace behind her – she wasn’t sure when they’d decided on that, but it was working – they strode through the dusty, empty factory. Charlie’s boots scuffed through blood-stains on the concrete floor, but she didn’t allow herself to think about that.
This was the last time she’d ever be here. Charlie pushed open the door to her mother’s workshop and paused. Her mom was sitting on the floor, long legs crossed, as she worked on the amplifier. Strausser stood behind, close enough that his legs brushed her back when she moved, close enough to make Charlie snarl.
‘Hey, Mom,’ Danny said, cheerful as if they weren’t about to become fugitives. ‘Have you had breakfast, you always forget to eat?'
Strausser turned. He moved like something you’d find in a stagnant pool, too stiff and smooth to look natural. Cold eyes – no Monroe had cold eyes, Strausser’s were dead –looked Charlie over from head to toe and his liverish tongue flicked over his lips.
‘What are you doing here?’ he said. ‘Mrs Matheson wasn’t scheduled for visitors today.’
If she killed him, it would be doing the world a favour. Charlie would rather not leave bloodshed behind her though. She wasn’t Miles, Monroe wouldn’t forgive her anything, and the more damage she caused the more pissed he’d be.
‘The Generals wanted to collect some weaponry before they deployed,’ Charlie told him, trying to remember the way she usually acted around him. Nobody acted at ease around Strausser, but she couldn’t look too tense either. She hugged her mom, Rachel’s fingers digging anxiously into her arm. ‘General Monroe wants to see you about a special project, asked you to meet him at the armory.’
He stared at her canting his head to the side. A slow, wet smile twitched over his face. ‘Maybe I’m to be your new bodyguard,’ he said.
She didn’t need to think how she’d react to that. The revulsion curdled in her throat. With a polite nod to their mother, Strausser left. His measured, steady footsteps clanked on the metal walkway and slowly faded.
‘What are you doing?’ Rachel blurted, eyes wide and desperate. ‘Monroe will kill you, he’ll kill Danny.’
‘Not if he can’t catch us,’ Charlie said confidently. Or a good approximation thereof. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
Rachel raked her hands through her hair, dragging it back from her face. Her eyes flicked around the lab, cataloguing. ‘OK, I need-‘
‘No,’ Charlie said. ‘We’re going. Now.’
‘But I need…I need clothes and supplies.’
‘They’re sorted,’ Charlie said, pushing her up the stairs. ‘We go now, and we get out through the access tunnel. If we can get deep enough into the woods we can hide there.’
Danny hooked Aaron’s bright pendant from the table and strung it around his neck. ‘And Monroe and Uncle Miles can’t afford to turn back from the Georgia front for this.’
Rachel stooped, hands gripping the rail till her knuckles went white, and took a deep breath. She let it out through pursed lips, flirting with a whistle.
‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘We have to go. Now.’
She leant over the rail and grabbed a wrench, hefting the big, rusted tool like a weapon. Armed now she scrambled up the rest of the stairs and out into the hall. It was Danny’s turn to take the lead. He’d studied the layout of this place in the library. The access tunnel would drop them right at the edge of the woods.
If they got to there. If again.
A flicked of movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. ‘Down,’ she yelled, tackling her mom around the waist. They hit the metal with a rattle and Charlie’s brain caught up with her instincts at the same time reality did. A bullet hit the wall, drilling into the cheap plaster at about the same level as Charlie’s head had been. Shit, she’d been expecting at least a minimal effort to capture instead of kill. Maybe Miles didn’t like her that much.
Her stupid feelings claimed to be hurt, but someone had dropped them on their head as a child. She pulled her gun and wriggled over to the edge, peering through the gap for the shooter.
There. A short, dark haired recruit was running for the door with a rifle slung over her back. Tyler had spent hours training them for this. Forgetting that she was meant to be on the non-Monroe side, she took aim, exhaled and-
The shooter looked around. Even at this distance Charlie recognized Nora, something in the tilt of her head and set of her shoulders. Her finger hesitated, just resting on the trigger, then she pulled it. Slow and easy like Tyler always taught them.
It was too late. She missed the head shot, the bullet catching Nora’s shoulder. The other woman staggered but kept moving. Because she couldn’t afford to take a break,’ Charlie realized abruptly, because Nora was ‘good at blowing things up’.
‘Get up,’ she yelled at Danny, scrambling to her feet. ‘We have to get-‘
The world went up in a flash of smoke and heat and the rumbling bang of explosives. Charlie was sent flying by the force of the blast, slamming into the rail with her hip and back and then flipping it over it. She screamed, feeling the sound in her throat even though she couldn’t hear it, and grabbed at the walkway as she fell. Her fingers scraped over the rough metal and closed on a strut, jerked her fall to a joint-creaking stop. Leaving her dangling, by one arm, over the hard concrete floor.
She kicked her legs at nothing, trying to pull herself up. The walkway made an ominous creaking sound and rocked sickening towards her. Shit. Panic tasted like sour and sick in the back of her throat.
‘Danny?’ she yelled, trying to make herself heard over the low roar that filled the air. Or her ears. ‘Danny. Are you ok?’