XY Revolution

I wake in the hospital, with Dr Walsh once again hovering over me with that bored look on his face. It amazes me that a man like this even has enough passion to work for the Resistance.

My mouth is dry, and I’m aching all over.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he notices.

I frown at him for stating the freaking obvious but he ignores that. It’s like he’s completely ignorant to all emotion.

“You’ve been unconscious for almost forty-eight hours now. There’s some water next to your head.”

He then grips me underneath my armpits and hoists me up just enough so I’m sitting and can take the cup of water by myself. The first sip is like heaven.

“Try not to drink that too fast,” he cautions me. “A bullet grazed your shoulder, but miraculously, that’s the extent of your injuries, Belmont.”

I had no idea I’d been shot. Once again, adrenaline works its magic.

“I’d like to keep you in tonight for observation and to redress that wound, but at noon tomorrow you are required at a meeting with upstairs,” Dr Walsh informs me.

I don’t think I could sit in that meeting without collapsing again. All I want to do is go back to sleep. But there’s a knock on the wall and a familiar head of blue hair pokes its head through the curtains.

Travis’ hair is as bright as ever, and his scars just as characteristic.

“You’re awake,” he breathes and I smile meekly.

“Not for long,” I croak with a laugh which comes out as a cough.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Dr Walsh says and then leaves without a second glance.

Travis rolls his eyes and then sits down in the middle of the hospital bed. He takes my hand and touches the I.V. needle sticking out of it.

“We thought you weren’t coming,” he tells me. “We thought you both…”

I close my eyes and try to hold back the tears.

“Xander, he…Travis, there was nothing I could do,” I stammer, “He got shot in the head! But I killed the guy who did it, I swear! I killed him with my bare hands. I got him. I-I-”

“Freya, I know,” he says in a very soft voice. “We’ve seen the footage. We…saw.”

“Poor Xander,” I cry, the tears finally arriving.

“Hey, look at me,” he commands.

I know it’s not an order, but my watery eyes latch onto his.

“You did everything you could, but there was nothing you could’ve done to stop that from happening. Freya, you were so busy already, it was just really bad fucking luck. It sucks, but you did your job. Xander did his job, but this job doesn’t come without risks. Today we lost one, but Xander did not die for nothing, I promise,” Travis tells me fiercely, squeezing my hand.

“Did you get what we needed?” I ask.

“Yeah, we did. It’s not complete, but fuck, this is going to change things, Freya.”

“I’m glad.”

Several minutes of silence pass by before he speaks again.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Like what?”

“You. How you just brought down all those people, with such precision. You just watched Xander…and the control was amazing.”

“I bashed a man’s head in. What control are you talking about exactly?”

“You didn’t break down.”

“That would’ve gotten me killed.”

He shakes his head and laughs, saying, “There you go again. Prioritising like that in battle, in your first real battle is rare.”

“When you’re on the hunt, that’s when things are the most clear,” I tell him, and for a moment, I’m in the woods at home, Dad, Tyler and Jane not far behind, as I stalk my prey. It’s calm, and I am a part of everything. I am the trees, I am the soft crunch of leaves beneath my boots, and I am that doe nibbling at a few leaves.

“Look, I just wanted to say that I’m proud of you. You really did prove yourself. And I’m really glad you came back.”

“Thank you,” I mumble,

He gives my hand one last squeeze and then he leaves me to cry myself to sleep.



I hiss as Dr Walsh touches my shoulder with whatever he’s dabbed onto that cloth. With each hour that passes, my ‘graze’ throbs harder.

“This will go quicker if you stop moving,” he tells me.

“Stop being sassy. I’m in pain,” I growl.

He actually smirks at that and swipes the cloth down, making me bite down on my tongue.

“You are a right pain in the ass for a doctor,” I inform him.

“I never claimed not to be.”

“Just put the stupid bandage on.”

“Knock, knock,” Naomi calls as she enters the room.

She beams at me and I return the smile albeit it weakly.

“It’s good to see you, Freya,” she says.

“It’s good to be back,” I reply.

“You almost done there, Dean?”

He puts the clips in place and then moves my gown back into place.

“She’s ready to go,” he then turns back to me, “You will need to come back tomorrow, 0800 hours so I can check on this.”

“Yes sir.”

He then helps me up and I follow Naomi out of the room.

“I’ve laid out some clothes on your bed already. If you don’t like them, we can get you something else,” she says and before I know it, we’re within the small confines of my room.

I sigh when I see home in the window. It’s a sigh of relief, relief that I might be able to see it again someday, that I didn’t die in some foreign land well before my time.

Naomi helps me get changed, with my shoulder still giving me grief every time I don’t move it right, I’m grateful for the help. I’m so happy to be in pants again, and a top that doesn’t show every inch of skin.

What’s more relieving, however, is knowing that I look like myself again. My white-blonde hair is back, though still more manageable than before. My skin is back to its usual pallor, and that layer of what felt like dirt is gone. My scars have been restored to their former glory, forever marring my back.

We’re in room 3 again, and I’m met with over a dozen pairs of eyes when I enter. Travis is immediately at my side, leading me over to my seat, which happens to be right between him and Henriette. Natasha is smiling at me over the table and Henriette’s eyes are showing something I guess would be pride.

The Indian lady by far looks the gloomiest. Priyanka has dark bags under her eyes and her hair is unwashed, and unkempt. I can’t bear to even look at her for more than a few seconds, otherwise I might just break down. I can’t afford to do that in front of these people. Weakness isn’t something you show to the world.

Henriette gets to her feet and the room goes so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“Welcome to de-briefing, everyone,” she greets. “First off, I’d like to congratulate Agents Hunt, Marsters, and Belmont on their mission. They were very successful in obtaining the information we need, and assassinating several high-profile members of the UN.

“Unfortunately, Agent Michaels did not survive the mission. He was killed by a member of the UN with a clean gunshot to the head. Agent Belmont killed the man in turn, but obviously that couldn’t have brought Agent Michaels back to us. He was a passionate, valuable member of the Resistance, and it is with a heavy heart that I tell you what happened to him. We will have a memorial service this afternoon at sundown, above ground.”

There’s a quick murmur around the table, but it dies fairly quickly.

“Agent Belmont, you will be required to undergo post-mission psychiatric assessment,” Henriette informs me.

Out of all the emotions I expected to experience today, embarrassment was not one of them. Couldn’t she have sent me a memo? Isn’t that what professional people do?

“What about Travis?” I argue, poking said boy in the arm.

“Agent Hunt is a very experienced agent. His first missions have long since been done and dusted. We have every confidence in his mental stability.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I can’t help but retort, earning me a bone-chilling glare from the boss.

“Until you go through this assessment, Belmont, you are a liability.”

“Can I leave? My shoulder hurts.”

“You are dismissed,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

I get up and stalk out, tempted to pick up that chair and throw it at a wall. But I don’t.



I go to dinner early. Eliza is there, greeting me with a sympathetic smile and an extra portion of mashed potato. I thank her, grab a bottle of water and then turn to find a table. At this time, 1700 hours, very few people have actually drifted in. Most tables are empty, but there’s one my eyes immediately hone in on.

“Hi,” I say softly as I sit down.

Phil smiles broadly.

“Hiya Freya. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

I almost cringe, thinking about the last time I did see him.

“Yeah, it has been a bit.”

“I heard you were on your first official mission.”

“I was.”

His eyes drop down to his plate and he tells me, “I heard what happened, with Xander. I’m so sorry.”

I shrug.

“You probably knew him better than I did.”

He shakes his head and says, “It’s different when you’re there, when it happens. I’ve been that person, Freya, and it was terrible because it was someone I knew almost as well as I know myself. Watching a friend die, basically on your watch, is hard.”

“Who was yours?”

“There have been a few people. The worst was my mum, but she didn’t die. She got married.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah, I mean I know you’re definitely not a fan of the auctions and all, but fuck, she got the worst possible guy.”

His eyes crinkle shut and I know he’s somewhere horrible right now.

“He was a Councillor.”

My eyes widen and my mouth forms the shape of an ‘O’.

“Is that why you came here?” I ask and he chuckles.

“Well, I set the council building on fire, and when they arrested me, they almost beat me to death. The Resistance broke me out. So yeah, I woke up halfway across the world, not knowing how I got there and in significant pain still.”

“Wow. That’s a dramatic entry.”

He chuckles.

“Thanks. Though your entrance was a reasonable effort – you know, off the back of your first successful mission.”

I laugh nervously.

“I’m not sure if you can call it my success exactly. All I did was go in, look pretty, and sing. It’s not like I was doing anything significant.”

Phil shovels some mashed potato in his mouth and then says in a muffled voice, “Individually, no, but in the scheme of things, they couldn’t have done it without you.”

I smile and then start actually eating. By the time Phil’s finished inhaling his dinner, he’s chatting away about life growing up on a farm in Australia and his strong, fierce and loving, single mother. His dad died when he was little apparently, but he and his mum had gotten along just fine running the farm on their own.

When the Revolution happened, Phil spent his time hiding his mother from the Authorities. One day, luck was against them. The Authorities showed up in the early hours of the morning, when both of them were out in the milking sheds. The next time he saw her was at the wedding. It was also the last time.

“But it’s okay. She’s a tough old bird. She can survive anything – even being married to a councillor. And here is the best place for me to help her, and to help all you poor ladies stay out of the clutches of creepy old dudes,” Phil tells me with a cheeky smile.

“Why, thank you for your services,” I say, dipping my head in a mock bow.

He waves me away with his hands.

“I’m just doing what I can! But you’d be nowhere without me.”

I roll my eyes before flicking a piece of potato at him.

“That was not very ladylike, doll-face,” he mocks, with a look of horror on his face.

“What does being a lady even mean? I’m a woman, and I can do anything.”

“I don’t doubt that, Freya. I really don’t,” he says, shaking his head and chuckling.

The chuckle isn’t exactly warm though and guilt runs through me.

“Hey,” I start. “I wanted to see you before I left, in case I didn’t get the chance again later. But I’m so, so sorry about what I did to you, in the gym.”

His blue eyes meet mine, and he smiles softly.

“Thanks.”

“Of course. I didn’t hurt you too bad, right?”

“Psh, as if I’ll admit to how much damage an untrained little girl did to me! It was bad enough you hit me in front of everyone!” he says with a laugh.

He reminds me so much of Tyler in that moment it brings pains to my chest.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Um, yeah. I’m just a bit tired. It’s been a long day. I might just go to bed.”

I then get to my feet but he frowns at me.

“You can’t miss Xander’s memorial service,” he states.

“I forgot about that,” I whisper and his expression softens.

He also stands up and before I know it, I’m trapped in a bear hug. He smells like salt water and something else I can’t put my finger on. I slowly wrap my arms around him and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you up.”



The desert heat is dying with the sinking sun. The dust is everywhere, and it makes the sunset look spectacular. With nothing else around for miles but rocks and the occasional cactus, there’s a certain eeriness all around.

I’m standing in between Travis and Phil in the front row. Everyone is standing in a semi-circle, and there’s a new cross in a field of similar wooden stakes. I hadn’t noticed this place when I first came in, but you don’t when you see that one house around for miles and a helicopter being swallowed up by the earth.

There are so many single sticks in the ground, and the wood is fresh on so many of them. These are fighters I never got to meet; people who fought for the same thing I’m fighting for; people who fought for me when I was just a frustrated girl waiting for her impending doom. The graveyard is a brutal reminder of how dangerous this life is. Casualties are inevitable. You live and you die in the Resistance. This could be me. Tomorrow, next week, or next month, this could be me. My body probably won’t even be buried here, same as Xander. It’d be too risky to obtain it. I will just be some corpse, property of the UN. And my grave will be here, in this mostly empty cemetery.

“Alexander Michaels was a bright light in our system of gloomy caves; a sun where the sun cannot reach,” Henriette says solemnly. “When things seemed impossible, he was always there, helping out his fellow agents and giving them hope when all seemed lost.

“He cared deeply about our cause. He cared because he believed we are all the same – we are all people – and should be treated as such. He loved his friends. He made sacrifices some of us will never have to make. And he died, trying to achieve our goals, in the name of all of us. We will never forget.”

“Let his spirit rest,” everyone murmurs.

Henriette then pulls out a lighter, and drops it at her feet. The ground bursts into flames, and I know the words without even looking; Xander Michaels.

We watch until the flames are completely quenched and the cold wind whispers through the darkness.