Article 5 (Article 5 #1)(4)

Somewhere in the street I heard a car door slam.

“Stop,” I managed.

“Let go!” Beth shouted at him.

Conner and Bateman pulled my mother away. Morris’s hands were still on my wrists. I heard nothing over the ringing in my ears.

And then I saw him.

His hair was black and gleaming in the last splinters of sunlight. It was short now, cleanly cut like the other soldiers’, and his eyes, sharp as a wolf’s, were so dark I could barely see the pupils. JENNINGS was spelled out in perfect gold letters over the breast of his pressed uniform. I had never in my life seen him look so grave. He was nearly unrecognizable.

My heart was beating quickly, fearfully, but beating all the same. Just because he was near. My body had sensed him before my mind had.

“Chase?” I asked.

I thought of many things all at the same time. I wanted to run to him despite everything. I wanted him to hold me as he had the night before he’d left. But the pain of his absence returned fast, and reality sliced at my insides.

He’d chosen this over me.

I grasped on to the hope that maybe he could help us.

Chase said nothing. His jaw was bulging, as though he was grinding his teeth, but otherwise his face revealed no emotion, no indication that the home he’d been raised in was twenty feet away. He stood between where Morris held me and the van. It occurred to me that he was the driver.

“Don’t forget why you’re here,” Bateman snapped at him.

“Chase, tell them they’re wrong.” I looked straight at him.

He didn’t look at me. He didn’t even move.

“Enough. Get back in the van, Jennings!” ordered Bateman.

“Chase!” I shouted. I felt my face twist with confusion. Was he really going to ignore me?

“Don’t speak to him,” Bateman snapped at me. “Will someone please do something with this girl?”

My terror grew, closing off the world around me. Chase’s presence didn’t soothe me as it had in the past. The mouth that had once curved into a smile and softened against my lips was a hard, grim line. There was no warmth in him now. This was not the Chase I remembered. This wasn’t my Chase.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of his face. The pain in my chest nearly doubled me over.

Morris jerked me up, and instinct tore through me. I reared back, breaking free from his grasp, and wrapped my arms around my mother’s shoulders. Someone yanked me back. My grip was slipping. They were pulling her away from me.

“NO!” I screamed.

“Let go of her!” I heard a soldier bark. “Or we’ll take you, too, Red.”

Beth’s fists, which had knotted in my school uniform, were torn from my clothing. Through tear-filled eyes I saw that Ryan had restrained her, his face contorted with guilt. Beth was crying, reaching out for me. I didn’t let go of my mother.

“Okay, okay,” I heard my mother say. Her words came out very fast. “Please, officer, please let us go. We can talk right here.”

A sob broke from my throat. I couldn’t stand the obedience in her tone. She was so afraid. They were trying to separate us again, and I knew, more than anything else, that I could not let them do that.

“Be gentle with them, please! Please!” Mrs. Crowley begged.

In one heave, Morris ripped me from my mother. Enraged, I swiped at his face. My nails caught the thin skin of his neck, and he swore loudly.

I saw the world through a crimson veil. I wanted him to attack me just so I could lash out at him again.

His green eyes were beady in anger, and he snarled as he jerked the nightstick from his hip. In a flash it was swinging back above his head.

I braced my arms defensively over my face.

“STOP!” My mother’s pitch was strident. I could hear it above the screaming adrenaline in my ears.

Someone pushed me, and I was flung hard to the ground, my hair covering my face, blocking my vision. There was a stinging in my chest that stole the breath from my lungs. I crawled back to my knees.

“Jennings!” I heard Bateman shout. “Your CO will hear about this!”

Chase was standing in front of me, blocking my view.

“Don’t hurt him!” I panted. Morris’s weapon was still ready to strike, though now it was aimed at Chase.

“You don’t need that.” Chase’s voice was very low. Morris lowered the stick.

“You said you’d be cool,” he hissed, glaring at Chase.

Had Chase told this soldier—Morris—about me? Were they friends? How could he be friends with someone like that?

Chase said nothing. He didn’t move.

“Stand down, Jennings,” Bateman commanded.

I scrambled up and glared at the man in charge. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Watch your mouth,” snapped Bateman. “You’ve already struck a soldier. How much deeper a hole are you looking to dig?”

I could hear my mother arguing through her hiccuping sobs. When they began to move her toward the van again, I lunged forward, my hands tangling in Chase’s uniform. Desperation blanketed me. They were going to take her away.

“Chase, please,” I begged. “Please tell them this is a mistake. Tell them we’re good people. You know us. You know me.”

He shook me off as though some disgusting thing had touched him. That stung more than anything could in this moment. I stared at him in shock.