The Sleeper Cells: A Terrorism Story

Chapter 24: Starting Over

Smoothly swaying through the air, we all connect on a deeper level than we ever have. When you battle through endless struggles with a group of people, they become more than friends. They're family. I love these people. We all grab each other's hands and look to each other. The faces of survivors. These are the faces of people who fought back. We're the people who never threw in the towel. Kennedy lost her parents. Owen was in a sleeper camp. Mika lost Sage. Kris is almost dead. We've all been pushed to our wits end... but we're here. We're alive. We're together. And we're going home...or at least to our new home.

Owen finally breaks down, letting all of it out. He takes a deep breath, allowing every tear he's been holding in to cascade down his face. He needs silence. Sometimes silence can say more than words. Let them fall, I think to myself. Everyone needs a break sometimes. But this isn't a break. This is an end. It's all finally over.

Mika leans forward and folds her arms around him. Turning themselves into a bubble of reinforcement. A bubble of scars and wounds finally getting the needed stitches.

Mika herself even lets a tear or two fall. She smiles with pure joy glowing from her. Her eyelashes patter Owen's face, only making him want to hold her closer. He pulls the dirty map from his pocket and holds it out the helicopter's side. He looks at it one last time, watching it flap in the wind. He loosens his fingers and lets it fly away.

Kennedy lays her head on my shoulder and I run my hands through her hair.

"See, hope does wonders," she says into her headset microphone. I hear her through mine. "I think I need you now. I never did before. I didn't ever really need anyone. I knew I could take on the world alone. But something about you. Something you do or the way you set me free from my stubborn independence. I never needed anyone but myself...until now."

I can't say anything. I squeeze her tighter, and she knows it's mutual. I feel the same way. I lean down and let my lips gently grace her forehead.

From all this community and success, I neglected what was actually going on, we all did. "Where are we going?" I ask the pilot, hugging his shoulder.

"To a safe area. Some people have opened their doors and kept their welcome mats out for people like you. There are high schools for people too. You're going to be medically checked into an online service, and then will be assigned a new temporary home if you don't have anywhere to go. And there are information centers in every town. Relief is set up from one end of The Vista to the other. We're getting close."

He pulls his shades down over his eyes and looks ahead. I look to Kris, who nods his head as if he expected it. He smiles at me, "we did it."

Something rings in my head, "sometimes you have to do the right thing for the right reasons." I stress 'right' when I say it. He always told us that sometimes we have to do the wrong thing for the right reasons, but I think it was always the right thing. If we didn't do the things we did, if we didn't make the choices we made, we may not be in this helicopter right now.

Twenty minutes later, the helicopter bounces as it lowers to a football field. We slide out of the helicopter thanking the pilots. Vista government workers are scattered throughout the field with bands around their arms reading "solace". They gently take us into a white tent where we all sit on our own separate medical examination beds. It's actually very comfortable. The pillow, oh, a pillow... this cloud. The fluff feels almost unnatural. I've gotten so used to wood and rocks for pillows.

"How are you feeling?" the man asks me as he wraps a blood pressure cuff around my arm.

"Besides being tired and hungry and maybe some swollen ankles, I'm fine."

He bends down to my ankles, "swollen ankles?"

"I've done a lot of running. Man, I don't even know for how long."

"I can only imagine. I think they will be fine," he takes his cold gloves away from my ankle, "take an ice packet on your way out and keep it on there for around 10 minutes then take it off. Let me check your other vitals."

He is very nice and gentle, and I can see Mika, Owen, Kennedy, and Kris are all getting the same treatment. Obviously, Kris is in a little messier state than the rest of us. They let everyone, except Kris, go to the housing assignment. They sign him into a 'return' log and wheel him into a vehicle to go to the hospital. He sends a single wave good-bye.

At the next tent, workers take our name and any information we can give them to log us into the same 'return' log.

"It's for your loved ones. There is an online catalog of survivors who are brought back into safety. People are notified when it's updated. It's the best thing our government has given us for communication. Loved ones know who is back and where they are," the tall woman behind the desk tells me as she types my information into the program. "Do you have any relatives in the area that you can think of?"

"I don't even know where I am..."

"Kellersville."

"Ha." Kellersville is a city with about 200,000 people living in its spider web of buildings. It's a well-respected city in The Vista.

"Okay," she smiles. "it looks like you and your friends are going to live in an apartment with a man. Here is his profile." The woman hands me a packet filled with information, including his name, age, address, and a list of other pointless words describing him. 

"My friends come too?"

"They do. They all said the same thing and we put you all together."

"Thank you so much."

"No, thank you."

Owen, Mika, and Kennedy all come up to me, holding matching packets about where we're going, wearing the same ice packs.

"Luke from Kellersville. A freelance photographer. Nice." Mika folds the paper and slides it into her back pocket.

We follow the printed directions to his apartment. It's near downtown and is in an older, brick building.

"Second floor," Owen says, holding the door open for us. The white tiles on the steps act like a mirror. This is one of the nicest apartments in Kellersville. At first, I was worried if he would have enough room for all four of us, but it looks like he would have room for about ten.

We climb the steps to his room: 202.

"Luke ain't ready for us." Mika jokes as she knocks on the door.

The door opens to a blonde-haired man in designer clothes. His green jacket looked like it is worth more than I could stomach. He's rich...and smells like it too.

He smiles and gives us a thumbs up, "welcome home!"