Fear Itself

Everything got really intense in the tunnels after the riot. There were more people hanging around the tunnels than I had ever seen before in my life. They were armed and patrolling. A lot of them were members of Harley’s squad taking shifts. Sam told me that he and Dean hired mercenaries to sit on the rooftops throughout the day with sniper rifles in case anybody got too close. I never heard anybody needing to be killed, though. We were safe and undetected underground. I always thought that was smart of them, hiding under here. It seemed like people had long forgotten about the metro tunnels. Smart move on their part. I was coming to realize that the high-ranking members of the Brotherhood were all very intelligent. I learned something new there every day.

For example, today, Alex brought an old board game he had found in the storage room of the market after his shift a few days ago. It was a perfectly square board with a light blue center. There was a photo of a man in a top hat and a red sign that said “MONOPOLY” in white letters. What I quickly learned was that it was a venture in real estate, well, a pretend one, anyway. It seemed, from what Alex read on a very worn set of directions, that one was to buy properties and attempt to make money off of them to drive others out of business. It sounded fun at first, but we had been playing since I arrived at the base at 8 o’clock that morning. It now two o’clock in the afternoon, and patience was wearing thin around the table… especially for Dean.

“This game is shit!” Dean exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air after having to pay his third tax in a row. “Seriously, I’m done. This game is horrendous. There are reasons people don’t play this game anymore. It ruins friendships.” I snorted, and Alex looked like he was about to start crying with laughter. “This isn’t funny,” Dean threatened us both, then turned specifically to Alex. “Especially you, Eyebrows. You’re the worst banker I’ve ever seen in my life. I should have been the banker.”

“But Dean,” Alex sputtered through a choked laugh. “I’m a cashier. I’m the only one fit for this prestigious position with my overwhelming background in finance. Besides, if you had been the banker, you’d be cheating left right.”

“Oh, like you aren’t?” Dean scoffed. “You’ve been slipping your little girlfriend here fifties since the third turn. I saw you.”

“Dean, I didn’t give her anything,” Alex defended, still fighting off a grin.

“And I’m not his girlfriend,” I added.

“Blondie, not the point!” Dean groaned. “Plus, we’ve known you were going to win in the first five minutes!” he shouted, motioning an open palm to my copious stacks of fake money and white property cards. “And what’s worse is that we’ve had to sit here and prolong your victory for the last six hours! Don’t try playing innocent either, Blondie, I see that dumb little smirk on your face whenever I owe rent on that hotel-clad Boardwalk square, and you seem to get off on buying all of my mortgaged properties!” Alex was crying, head down on the table, laughing so hard he was shaking.

“Come on, Muscles, you know I don’t—“

“Don’t even try to argue with me!” he interjected. “I can practically hear you cackling every time I try to cut a deal with you in an attempt to put off the looming prospect of my impending bankruptcy, and it’s bullshit, I tell you!” He paused to take a breath. “Hey everyone!” he shouted, alerting anybody else in premises. “Thalia Giroux is a sadist who revels in causing me pain!”

“Dean—“ Alex managed to say, even though his laughter was bringing tears to his eyes and making his voice squeaky.

“And you,” he continued, shooting an accusatory glare at Alex. “You’re even worse than she is! Every time I’ve tried to back out, you convince me otherwise! You’re not even winning! You just enjoy watching me suffer, don’t you? This isn’t a game between friends, you liars. This has turned into a game between torturer and victim, and you have both successfully slain me. I hope you’re happy with yourselves.” He sat back in his chair with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can’t even look at you two. You disgust me.” Laughter rattled the entire table, as both Alex and I were both taken over with the hilarity of Dean’s outburst.

This seemingly pointless experience had taught me several things: 1. I was incredibly good at Monopoly, 2. Dean was a sore loser, and 3. Monopoly had the potential to ruin friendships.

Speaking of ruined friendships, I hadn’t seen Avery in a few days at this point. I was worried. I was desperately trying to hide my concern, but I couldn’t help it. I knew he had a habit of disappearing, but it was usually just for a few hours, not for a few days, and I certainly didn’t expect him to just leave me alone at that riot. Come to think of it, I don’t think he even knew I planned to attend. Maybe he did. I was having a hard time keeping track of who I told what now that I actually people to tell things. I just wanted my best friend back. It didn’t feel right without him. I even turned down Alex’s offers to walk me home; it simply wasn’t the same.

I was pushed from my thoughts when Sam shoved his way out of his office door, gasping for air, and rushed toward our table. He threw hims hands down with so much force that the little silver pieces flew off of their respective squares. Alex and I both groaned with disappointment. Dean looked so excited I thought he might leap from the chair, but Sam didn’t allow any time for commentary.

“Great news!” he shouted. “I’ve just received word from the Sons that they infiltrated the mints after all!”

“Really?” Dean asked, tilting his head up at his brother for once.

“I don’t think you understand was this means! This is… this is fantastic!” Sam exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air and spinning around. “The Americans are making headway! They’re one step closer to taking down the American branch of the League! Do you understand what this means?”

Alex hummed a bit and nodded. “That the overwhelming sense of freedom and liberation the Americans are going to feel may radiate over to London and spark a support of the rebellion?”

“Yes!” Sam cheered. “Boys, there’s so much work to do!” He promptly turned and charged back into the office, closing the door with a heavy thud.

This may have been the very first time I began to realize the gravity of the situation I had gotten myself into. These people weren’t just anarchists, well, they were, but that wasn’t the full depth of their story. These were real people fighting for real freedoms that had been taken away from them. The world I found myself in was not the one I had been reading about for eighteen years. To be blunt, things kind of sucked. Things were terrifying. The state of the world was dire, and it was clear from just a few outings… but I also realized that everyone within the Brotherhood was fighting for something. Sam was fighting for his dad, Dean was fighting to prove to people that he was better than his dad, and Alex was fighting for the education he had been robbed of.

What was I fighting for? Truth is, I didn’t know.