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Chapter 4: Taria

"Unity is the key to success. If the rebellion becomes divided, there will be no hope left. I trust that you will help keep the Rebellion together. There will be setbacks and disagreements. There will be many problems that must be faced before this is over but, if justice is to reign supreme, you must not let anything divide this rebellion."

    Screams pierce the relative silence of the tunnel. Dust swirls around in the air. I fly forward, lifted by the gust of wind disturbing the tranquility of the age-old tunnels. Deep booms echo in my head. I try to look around, but I can't see anything. The dust is everywhere. I spread my hands out on the floor to see if I can find anything. My bag is here, thankfully. A small light shines through the veil of dust and I am able to see for a moment. Behind me, rocks and boulders are everywhere. There's been a cave in.

    "Everyone remain calm! Let the dust settle." A familiar voice calls out. I stay still. After only a few minutes, I can see again. The dust is still in the air, but it's not quite as severe anymore. Commander Marina stands at the front with her flashlight out. Most of our group is here, but some are stuck under the rocks. "Search for survivors!" The commander shouts. Everyone moves toward the boulders. I start toward them, but I'm stopped by a hand on my shoulder.

    "Not you, medic. Now, we need you more than ever." Commander Marina commands. I nod. I go to a tunnel wall and unpack my bag. Many of my medicine vials are broken, but the equipment looks okay.

    "Bring the wounded over here!" I shout amidst the chaos. There's very little light. The rocks are pushed aside and members are pulled out from underneath.

    "Careful!" Marina shouts to the soldiers. More rocks come tumbling down. "Is there anyone else here?"

    "Commander! Over here!" One voice shouts. The commander runs over to the soldier and gasps.

    "We have to get him out. Marc, Po, lift the rocks. Crissa, help me pull him." She commands. I treat the few soldiers brought to me. A few slings and splints and everything's fine until we get back to camp. I look at what's causing all the commotion and gasp. Commander Tristan. Marina and the others pull him out and over to me. I check his wrist for a pulse. There's a faint beating.

    "He's wounded, but alive." I announce. I look at his injury and worry sets in. Multiple bones are broken, including a few ribs. This injury isn't something I can attend to on the go. I search my vials hoping that the one I need is intact. I pull one out. It'll help him some, but there isn't much we can do here.

    "We need to make a stretcher. We'll have to carry him back to camp." I announce.

    "With what?" Someone asks. "We're in a cave!" I look around. This isn't going to be easy.

    "Do any of you have a walking stick? A staff? A crutch?" I ask. No one answers. I sigh. "Some of you will have to carry him, but carefully. He's hurt." A few volunteers step up. I nod to the commander. She turns around to start us on our journey back, but turns back around before taking a step.

    "We can't go back to camp. Not when we know there's a spy in our group." She growls. People turn to each other with confused looks. I don't understand. Everyone in our group was in it earlier. What makes now any different?

    "A spy, Commander?" One person asks.

    "Yes, a spy. How else would the Enemy know where to bomb? How else would they know exactly when? If we keep marching, we'll only lead them back to our base. Then, the war would be over, but not in a good way. We need to find the spy before returning."

    "How do you propose we do that?"

    "Everyone who has joined in the past two weeks, step forward." A few people start shuffling forward. I go with them. The only other one I know is Satica. She looks terrified. Satica can't be the spy! I saw her reaction on the battlefield and that was real. If she isn't, who is? I look around me. Is someone here really a spy?

    "Now what, Commander?" The same soldier questions again.

    "Now, we ask the people of their opinions. Wolves, have any of you noticed unusual behavior in these individuals? This is extremely important. If you have anything to say, say it now." The air is still for a few seconds, then a voice rises above the silence. They step forward. I don't know who they are.

    "Those two," He points at Satica and I, "Were gathered around the body of one of the Enemy's soldiers when the battle was over." Satica's surprised expression changed to one of fury.

    "You think I'm a spy? Was I not allowed to bury my father?" She shouts. I put a hand on her shoulder. Getting angry isn't going to help us here.

    "Satica's telling the truth. We were only digging a grave for her father. She isn't a spy, and I'm not either."

    "How do we know they're telling the truth? They're both new here." Another voice sides with the first. Conversation starts to brew, and we're right in the middle of it. I feel strangely calm about it. I guess after a war, a small quarrel doesn't feel worth getting upset over. Satica, on the other hand, looks close to tears, but her hands are in fists. More fingers are pointed at us. Right at the peak of the argument, a loud voice cries out, "Stop!"

    I look around to see Desta walking to the front of the group.

    "Stop," he says again, quieter. "Look around. This is the Rebellion. We're supposed to stand united, we're supposed to work together. This," He gestures at Satica and I, "Is exactly what we're trying to stop. We don't know if there's a spy. We don't know how the cave in happened, but is that really what matters? If we give up everything we have- our ideals, our values, our principles- what exactly is it we're fighting for? What's the point of all of this if we become those we are trying to destroy? If we're ever going to rise above the tyranny, we will do it in justice, grace, and dignity. Pointing fingers isn't going to help anyone. Each moment we stand here bickering, Commander Tristan is closer to death. I came to the Pack for the same reasons as many of you. I wanted freedom. Freedom has a price worth paying, but this is not it. Let's focus on fighting the enemy, not each other. Only when this is all over will we truly be free. Let's fight for freedom, for justice, for peace. Not for anger. It's easy to put the blame on someone, it always has been. But in the end, does it really get us anywhere? We need to keep marching." With that, he turns around and walks. Surprisingly, people start to follow.

    "C'mon Satica. We need to go." I whisper as I start to move with them. She nods and walks behind me. A few pointed glares come our way, but I stare right back at them. They look away.

    "You all right?" I ask her. She nods, but I can tell it was only out of instinct. "I believe you. I'm sure most of them do too. They were just angry and confused. Don't blame it on them."

    "Then who should I blame it on? My father was drafted into their armies. He had no choice. Now, not only did he have to pay the price, but I do as well. This isn't right." She snaps.

    "You're right, it isn't. But nothing we can do will help. Let's just go back to the base. Everything will be-" I stop. I can't promise her anything. We could be in serious trouble when we get back.


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