Fracture Me

THIRTEEN

The roads are almost entirely abandoned. The sun is high and the wind is bitingly cold and though the rain has stopped, the air smells like snow, and I have a feeling it’s going to be harsh. I wrap James more tightly in my arms, shivering against a chill coming from deep inside my body. He’s fallen asleep again, his small face buried in the crook of my neck. I hug him closer to my chest.

With the opposition destroyed, there’s no need to have many—if any—troops on the ground. They’re probably clearing out the bodies now, cleaning up the mess and putting things back in order as soon as possible. It’s what we always did.

Battle was necessary, but cleaning it up was just as crucial.

Warner used to drill that home: we were never to allow civilians time to grieve. We could never give them the opportunity to make martyrs of their loved ones. No, it was better for the deaths to seem as insignificant as possible.

Everyone had to go back to work right away.

So many times I was a part of those missions. I always hated Warner, hated The Reestablishment and all it stood for, but now I feel even more strongly about it all. Thinking I’d lost James did something to me last night, and the damage is irreparable. I thought I knew what it was like to lose someone close to me, but I didn’t, not really. Losing a parent is excruciating, but somehow, the pain is so much different from losing a child. And James, to me, in many ways, feels like my own kid. I raised him. Took care of him. Protected him. Fed him and clothed him. Taught him most everything he knows. He’s my only hope in all this devastation—the one thing I’ve always lived for, always fought for. I’d be lost without him.

James gives my life purpose.

And I didn’t realize this until last night.

What The Reestablishment does—separating parents from their children, separating spouses from each other, basically ripping families apart—they do it on purpose. And the cruelty of these actions hadn’t really hit me until now.

I don’t think I could ever be a part of something like that again.