The Legend (28 page)

 

kwan

W
alking through the woods on the outskirts of the park, I reflect on the journey that brought us here. Yesterday I travelled to the State Line, and it was almost impossible to discern where the boundary fence once stood, barring entry to those in need, those seeking sanctuary. Adam had removed the Illinois fences first and already teams are working around the clock to take down the rest. There will be no more fences, no more segregation. Adam will see to that. There is talk of a new contender, a powerful businessman who plans to run against Adam in the upcoming election, but no one is taking him very seriously. The people of our nation are not as naive as they once were – they will not be taken in by propaganda and lies.

Adam has already selected elite teams whose sole purpose is to scour the barren lands for the lost – with all the resources of the United States behind them. Countless lives will still be saved.

In a surprise move, he has put Jupiter and Jeffrey Davis jointly in charge of technology. Jupiter's dream of air travel will likely be realised far sooner than he expected. Adam has abolished weapons engineering as well as prohibiting the Gifting procedures. There will be no more super soldiers. Humanity will have to rely on its natural wit and intellect to resolve conflict from now on.

It is hard to believe that it is only a little over two weeks since Kenneth Williams' death. So much has changed, and yet much is still the same. Rebecca has changed the most. Her fight ended with the fall of NUSA and for the first time she has allowed her vulnerability to surface, spending quiet hours with Aidan and the children, and mourning Reed. I watch from the shelter of the trees for a few minutes as she sits on the soft grass nearby watching Alex and Brooke climbing all over the playground equipment. Aidan is beside her, watching over them all. She turned down Adam's offer to continue leading the Legion – the United States official defence force. I have no doubt that while NUSA has fallen, a new threat will emerge in time. There will come a time in the future when we will need to protect our country from another enemy, an external foe. History has a way of repeating itself. Adam gave me the job instead, but I have a feeling that Rebecca will one day join me. She has a fire in her that will not be extinguished for long.

I move further into the trees, stopping in a small glade under a canopy of trees, enjoying the warming sunlight on my face, waiting expectantly. I do not have long to wait. I hear the leaves crunching underfoot and I turn to see them approaching.

“What took you so long?”

“The bowman here is slower than Henry, I hope he doesn't hold me back,” Reed replies, in his familiar Southern drawl. Archer grins indulgently across at Morgan, who rolls her eyes. “How was my funeral?” Reed continues.

“Awful. She's broken.”

“I know – I was watching.” His voice is lower than I have ever heard it, tinged with regret and his own sorrow. “Who's lying in my grave?”

“The NUSA soldier who really did die in that explosion. Nobody will ever know – he was burned so badly.” I recall how Morgan and I watched as Reed launched himself from the speeding vehicle just seconds before the crash.

“Good,” he feigns approval, but he looks slightly nauseous.

“I still think this is cruel,” I say. He knows exactly what I mean and despite his bravado I know that he has been watching her as closely as I have. He is very affected by her presence, although he refuses to show it.

“You gave me your word,” he reminds me, as if I could forget. Reed had sworn me to secrecy and no one but the five of us would ever know that he had survived the explosion. Only Adam, other than the four of us standing here, knows this. Reed will accompany Archer and Morgan as one of the elite teams Adam has chosen to search for survivors. They will be gone a very long time, and Reed will never return to our community.

“I will never reveal your secret, Reed, but I wonder if you will not regret the choice that you are making. You love her. To leave her will destroy you.” I can see the toll this is taking on him. His face is grey with exhaustion and his eyes have a hollow, haunted look that only losing her could invoke. I never thought I would see the day that Reed would look weak but, despite his efforts, I can see that the man standing next to me is in absolute agony.

“To stay would destroy us both,” he murmurs, almost to himself. He cannot restrain himself any longer and he turns to watch Rebecca, just visible through the trees.

“I don't understand why, after everything, you would leave without a fight,” I muse.

He answers without taking his eyes off her. “You forget that I fell in love with Rebecca long before this war made her what she is today. I fooled myself for a while that she loved me back, but I was only ever intimate with the woman who had already been hurt beyond repair by the cause that she believed in. The girl that I fell in love with – the real Rebecca beneath it all – she never loved me. Her heart belonged to him the whole time. She just locked it up, buried it in the deepest part of her – the part that could only return when her mission was complete. Aidan is the one.” He smiles, the saddest smile I have ever seen. “And yet, despite everything, Rebecca will never be able to choose. She cannot bear to hurt either of us, it goes against her very nature. She is too good, too selfless. It will tear her up inside, and ultimately destroy us all.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know her better than she knows herself.” His voice drops to barely more than a whisper and I can see the tendons in his neck flex with the effort of keeping his emotions in check. “And,” he admits, “I asked her once if she could choose. She tried to hide it, but in that moment I saw the truth.”

I say nothing, because to contradict him would be to disagree and in my heart I know that he is right.

“She has done enough. She has sacrificed enough.” He visibly pulls himself together, resolute. “It's time for her to be happy. With Alex, and with him.” He turns back to gaze at where Rebecca is sitting cross-legged on the edge of the playing field.

“She will take a long time to heal,” I point out, “to get over the anguish of losing you. She is not coping well.”

“But she
will
get over it,” he replies pointedly.

“What about Brooke? She is, after all, your child.”

He smiles without mirth, knowing exactly what I am trying to do and seeing straight through me.

“She will stay behind. She doesn't know who I am and she is happiest here, with them. To take her with me would be a purely selfish act and I won't do that to her, no matter how difficult the alternative. Besides, Rebecca will take care of her.” He smiles genuinely for the first time, and I catch a glimpse of his old, confident, sarcastic self. “It's my final punishment for Braveheart over there,” he jests, knowing full well that Aidan is far too intrinsically good to be anything less than the best substitute father Brooke could hope for. “Brooke is the part of me that I leave behind,” he murmurs, and I am no longer sure if he is talking to me, or to himself, “the part of me that she will always love and hold dear to her heart.”

There is nothing left to say and I step forward, offering him my hand.

“It has been an honour and a privilege to know you.”

“Same here,” he drawls, taking my hand and shaking it. “I hope our paths cross again some day. Take care of her,” he adds, pausing, as though he cannot bring himself to move away.

“She can take care of herself,” I point out wryly.

“That ain't no lie,” he agrees, taking one last look at the woman he loves.

I shake Archer's hand and they walk away, away from our new home, away from Rebecca.

Morgan steps towards me and, after a moment's hesitation, she throws her arms around me, hiding her tears in my chest.

“Thank you, for everything,” she says softly, and I stroke her back.

“You look after yourself,” I reply, gazing down at her. Morgan has grown so much since the day she first walked into my dojo as a sullen, rebellious teenager. Even more since Michael's death. She is no longer as quick to speak her mind, and she carries her own scars. I will miss her, but I am glad that she is leaving with Archer, who adores her, and Reed, who will protect her with his life.

“All right, all right, let's get this show on the road!” Reed calls, suddenly impatient. He winks at me over Morgan's shoulder, but I am not fooled. He is not okay either.
This is wrong
, I think to myself,
so very wrong.
Rebecca and Reed are like fire and ice, but they are also stronger together, and are drawn to each other like magnets. She may belong with Aidan, but Reed is her equal. If only they could remain friends – but he could never stand that, and it would be unfair to ask.

“Come on, Trouble!” Reed teases Morgan, and she quickly releases me and jogs after them.

As I watch Reed's tall figure departing, I can think of only one way to describe him – he is a living legend. But then, so are we all. Each and every one of us who contributed to bringing down the tyranny that had prevailed for too long. We are all legends, but Rebecca is the one who will be most remembered. Her legacy will live on in all of us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE END

 

acknowledgements

As always, my husband and family must be thanked for allowing me to indulge in a passion that takes up far too much of my time. This book, the last of Rebecca's story, is a bittersweet ending to an incredible journey.

To my amazing, brilliant friend Wendy Bow who designed my covers – your talent is astounding. Thank you for being there every step of the way.

To my Annie Girl, for being the one who forces me to ‘man up' and is the first person I call on when dealing with the daunting task of going before the public. Thank you for always being there and giving me the best advice, even if it is as simple as: ‘Suck it up'.

To Fiona McCarthy, for your open-door policy and for being my new beta reader. You rock!

To the bloggers who have promoted me and reviewed my books, you are truly the new Oprahs. I cannot thank you all enough for your encouragement and friendship.

To Pam Thornley, the best editor in the world, for connecting with this story and making it just that much better.

And to Tracey McDonald, my publisher . . . there are not enough words in the dictionary to express my gratitude to you for taking a chance on an unknown author and believing in her.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Melissa Delport graduated from the University of South Africa with a degree in English Literature and now lives with her husband and three children in Hillcrest, KwaZulu-Natal.

 

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