The Prompt: A Sunset
The sunset cast an orange glow over the two figures. The
light danced on the woman’s hair giving it a darker tint than its usual blond.
She rested her head on the man’s shoulder and sighed contentedly. It was good
to know that even with all the atrocities in the world, something this pure and
beautiful could still exist.
They stood, watching the sun sink slowly beneath the
curvature of the earth until they could no longer fool themselves into
believing it was still sunset. Night had fallen and with it a chill that
settled over the couple. Stars glittered in the sky surrounding the moon, but
they could hardly be called beautiful. Where the sun was soft and warm, the
stars were hard and bright like cold metal. There was nothing comforting about
them.
The woman sighed again, but this time there was no calm in
her soft breath. Her body was tense, prepared for anything. Night was not a
time for her to relax. The man was hardly any better, but he slipped a
comforting arm around her shoulders, murmuring soothing words into her ear. The
day had been so perfect, but perfection never could last.
The woman turned to her companion, suddenly spiteful. “He
won’t come.”
“He’ll be here,” the man replied automatically.
“He doesn’t care. He’s proven that time and time again.”
“He’ll be here,” the man said, effectively ending their
spoken conversation. It was an argument they’d had a dozen times before. One
that she could never win. The woman fell silent, a hard glint in her eyes. On
the surface she had given up hope he would come, but there was still a small
part of her that wanted so desperately to be wrong. Only on rare occasions did
she ever even acknowledge the hope still existed, let alone listen to it.
They waited as the cool breeze turned into an icy gust of
wind, forcing the two closer together for warmth. The woman shivered and pulled
her cloak tighter. “He won’t come,” she repeated, but the man didn’t respond to
or even acknowledge he’d heard her. “We’ve been out here all evening.”
“He said he’d come,” the man said, not even glancing at his
companion. He was staring off into the distance, looking at nothing and
everything all at once. “He said he’d come and he will.”
The woman fingered the wool in her cloak. “I’m tired of
waiting for him.”
The man sighed and dropped his arm from around her
shoulders. “I’m sure you can think of something to do with your time. Be
creative.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. We’re always
waiting for him.”
The man crossed his arms and looked away. It was something
he couldn’t argue with. They were always waiting. The woman knew he would never
agree with her, accept that he wasn’t going to show, but she couldn’t help
adding one last barb. “He’s never going to come.”
Sighing, the man glanced down at her, really looking at her
for the first time that night. “Stasia-”
“Don’t call me that anymore. Someone hears that and it gets
up the chain and we’re done for.”
The man smiled wryly. “No one’s around to hear anything.”
But he didn’t say her name again. They had learned to be always on their guard.
They had grown up in the resistance, away from the brainwashing of the
government. They had been in the longest and had managed to hide from the death
camps set up for people just like themselves.
Stasia sank onto the ground. She hated hearing her real
name. It made her remember her childhood, much the same as the life she led
now, but it seemed fun as a kid. She learned to excel at hide and seek long
before most kids knew what it was. She began learning to fight before she was
ten. Back then it had all seemed like a game. Now she knew it was life and
death.
“Stasia, Ollander.” A voice came out of nowhere, startling
Stasia into a fighting stance. If it was government officials with stun guns
she knew that would be useless, but it was a habit ingrained in her since
childhood.
A man stood beside a tree, his face shrouded in darkness
from the shadows. Stasia would have been hard pressed to make an
identification, but Ollander didn’t seem too concerned. “I told her you’d be
here,” he said, a smile gracing his face for the first time that night.
The man stepped out of the shadows and Stasia recognized his
face instantly. She turned away, not wanting to look at him any longer than she
had to. Luc was the third member of their trio and Ollander’s brother, but he
had become a spy in the government. Stasia was never sure anymore if he was on
their side or informing the government of their every move.
“I have news,” Luc said.
“You always have news,” Stasia replied coldly. “Or have you
forgotten your duties?”
Luc glanced at her, but turned back to Ollander. It was
clear he’d get more from his brother than his oldest friend. “They’re looking
for you two, you’ve got to go underground.”
Stasia snorted. It wasn’t a new idea, the government was
always searching for them. Going underground would mean stopping anything they
were planning, possibly permanently. It was times like these she wondered about
Luc’s loyalties. “Is that all?”
“No, they’re looking for you two specifically. They know
your names and faces. Leave the resistance in someone else’s hands for a few
months. You’ve got to get out of the city. I can get you out tonight.” Luc
sounded sincere, but he was the best liar Stasia knew.
She exchanged a quick look with Ollander. They had lately
lost any older members trusted enough to take over, and none of the new members
had the contacts to keep everyone together. Finally Ollander spoke. “It would
be impossible to hand over the leadership to someone else. We stay.”
Stasia smirked. She knew she shouldn’t be pleased that
Ollander was on her side and not Luc’s, but she couldn’t help feeling a small
sense of triumph. “Then stop the resistance, these are your lives we’re talking
about. You need to go underground or you will die.”
“Then we will die,” Ollander said, shrugging. It wasn’t
something any of them wanted to happen, but they had prepared for that day
years ago. Anyone a part of the resistance understood that death was
inevitable. The fact that they had managed to survive for this long was
shocking in and of itself.
Luc slammed his fist against the tree, his anger surprising
Stasia. He had always had perfect control over his emotions which made him the
ideal spy. The sight of him losing control made Stasia question his motives. He
knew they would all die eventually, his anger could be planned, a ruse to separate
them from the rest of the resistance. “Damn it, Ollie, you are the resistance,
don’t you understand that? If you die, the resistance dies.”
Ollander shook his head. To value one’s life over the life
of others was exactly what the resistance was fighting against. No person’s
life was more important than someone else’s. “Do you have any useful
information for us?” He asked, and Stasia felt a surge of warmth. Ollander was
the truest member of the resistance. Everyone else, including herself, had
doubts occasionally, but Ollander was a true believer.
Luc ignored his brother’s question and turned to Stasia, who
looked pointedly away. “Don’t listen to my pigheaded brother. You understand
the long term. The resistance as a whole is more important than your stupid
rules. Get out of the city, hide, keep safe. Come back in six months and this
will have died down.”
Despite herself, Stasia felt a pull to Luc’s words. It
sounded like a good plan, everything would be back to normal in only a few
months and they could go back to leading the resistance together. But she shook
her head. Ollander was right and that was final. They would stay.
Luc ran agitated fingers through his spiked blond hair.
“That’s it then, isn’t it? There’s no going back once you leave here.” Stasia
slipped her hand into Ollander’s and looked down at the ground. She wanted to
apologize to Luc, offer him something, but there was nothing to say. Luc gave a
disgusted sneer. “You two just signed your death warrants.”
It very well might have been true, but it was the price to
pay for fighting the government.
When Stasia and Ollander were safely out of hearing, Luc
growled softly. He had failed in his mission. The separation of Stasia and
Ollander from their pitiful resistance was something only he could accomplish,
and he had failed. They were the only powerful ones in the organization, the
only ones actually doing any damage. With them out of the way the rest of the
resistance would be wiped out and sentenced to the death camps.
But he had failed. He pulled out his communicator to let his
superior know that Stasia and Ollander would not be heading to the government
house he had set up. Luc had really thought this was the plan that would work.
Now Stasia and Ollander were going home safe and it was his life on the line.
