She’s probably going to burn them. Personally, I’d opt to use them as bear repellant. There are some not-so-pleasant scents wrapped up in those things.

When I’m done, I put on some snug cargo pants, a long sleeve shirt, a jacket and a pair of combat boots. I slip on some socks and lace up the boots, delighted to be reunited with some footwear that loves me as much as I love them.

“Alright,” I say, combing my fingers through my wet hair.

It’s so short. Just another reminder of Omega’s presence in my life.

When I step back into the tent, it’s already getting dark. Chris looks up at me. He’s cleaned up. His black tee shirt is tight against his lean, muscular frame. His hair is hanging loose and damp around his face. I don’t even realize I’m staring at him until he starts laughing.

“See something you like?” he teases.

“Um…” I blush. “I was just… you know… looking.”

“I know.” He stands up and places one hand on each side of my face. “You look beautiful when you’re cleaned up.”

I roll my eyes.

“As opposed to what? Looking like I was just liberated from enslavement?”

“Nah, you always look pretty.” Chris presses a slow, gentle kiss against my lips. Enough to make my toes curl. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of this. It was my job to protect you, and I failed.”

“You didn’t fail at anything—”

“—Let me finish, Cassie.” He pulls back and starts pacing, a sign that he’s either tense or nervous. Maybe both. “I don’t know if you’ve been impressed with the fact that I went crazy trying to find you. I looked everywhere.” He stops and takes a deep breath. “You scared the crap out of me.”

I swallow.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “But I didn’t do it on

purpose.”

“I know. When I found out where you were through the underground in the Free Army, I knew I had to come get you.” He glances across the campsite where Max is gathered with a few of the men. “Max was instrumental. He did a lot behind the scenes to keep you alive. But when Kamaneva put you in solitary, Max knew you were going to be executed the next morning. We had to change our plans. We had to attack the camp a lot earlier than we were thinking.”

“You were amazing,” I shrug. “You completely surprised Omega.”

“We got lucky.” He stops again. “You came way too close to getting killed. I owe everything to Max for saving you from that bullet.”

“Max is a good man,” I agree. “I can’t believe I thought he was a sleazy creep who liked hitting on teenage girls.”

Chris starts laughing again.

“Max is an extremely talented actor,” he says. “Probably the most talented guy in camp.”

I look around, spotting Isabel’s head of blonde hair near Mrs. Young.

“Isabel’s happy here,” I say.

“My parents have all but adopted her.”

“Good. Isabel needs parents.” I look at Chris. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Jeff said there was somebody named Alexander in charge before you came to camp. Who was he? Did the militia mutiny on him or something?”

Chris grins.

“No. Nobody was really in charge,” he replies, playing with my fingers. “People were just following Alexander’s commands because he’s a military guy and that was a lot better than sitting in the mud, wondering how to strike out at Omega.”

“But then you came to camp and everybody fell in love with you,” I joke, but I’m actually halfway serious. Chris has that effect. He’s logical, smart, common sense. Roll all of these attributes into one and you’ve got yourself a popular leader.

“No, I just have a different approach than Ramos,” Chris says.

“Ramos?”

“Ramos. Alexander Ramos.”

I blink.

“So is he still in camp, then?”

“Yeah. He’s a good soldier, he’s just got an attitude.”

I smirk.

“Like me?”

“No. Like an egotistical jerk.” Chris gives me a look. “Stay away from him if you can avoid it. He’s not a bad guy, but he’s not a good guy, either. He can be…rough around the edges.”

I slide down to the ground and curl up on one of the camping mattresses.

“I guess that’s your way of saying he’s not a gentleman.”

“Exactly.” Chris ambles over and sits beside me, stroking my hair as I lay with my cheek pressed against a sleeping bag. “This is a good group of fighting men, and their purpose is to create enough chaos to keep Omega from taking such a deep hold here.” He traces my ear with his fingertip, moving down to my neck. “But it’s just like any other society. You have to watch your back. There will always be people who aren’t as nice as you think they are. Ask anybody who’s experienced any type of military environment and they’ll tell you to keep your eyes open.”

His fingers touch the gold chain hanging around my neck.

“You kept this?” he exclaims, surprised. “They didn’t confiscate it?”

I smile up at him.

“I guess that’s just God’s way of winking at me.” I touch his hand. “You know, when I was in that place, and they were killing people on the sidewalk, and Kamaneva was making us march through the locker rooms naked, I kept thinking about something.”

Chris’s jaw hardens.

“I swear, if I could kill everybody that ever—”

“—Don’t you want to know what I was thinking about?” I interrupt, feigning disappointment.

Chris visibly relaxes.

“Alright. Shoot.”

“I was thinking about you.” I press my lips against the center of his forehead. “I kept asking myself what you would do in my situation. And I knew you’d come for me — and you did.” I slide my arms around his neck. “Thank you, Chris.”

I’m so close to him that I can hear the rapid beat of his heart. He gently lays me back onto the sleeping bag and gives me a kiss. “You make it easy,” he whispers.

I fold myself against his chest, feeling completely secure in his embrace. Nothing and nobody can come between us now. Exhaustion, starvation, trauma — whatever it is that’s eating at my nerves — melts away. I close my eyes and, for the first time in a very long time, I sleep peacefully.

Yeah. Thanks Chris.

What would I do without you?

Now that I’m done hibernating, I feel like a new person. It’s amazing what a little food and water can do. To say nothing of clean clothes, an environment that’s not totally bloodthirsty, and fresh mountain air.

Oh, and then there’s Chris.

Did I mention him? I guess I did. I think I love that man.

I’ve been sleeping on and off for about three days. The exhaustion of slave labor finally caught up with me, and after a little bit of time living in a dark hole, sleeping and dreaming about goose feather pillows, my energy is back. Cassidy Hart has returned, people. And this time around, there’s no grouchy, mouthy Russian woman to push her around.

Chalk one point up to my team, please.

Today is the first day I’ve felt like exploring the campsite, and as I do, I learn a lot about the Free Army. There are elderly couples, singles, children and families here. Everybody contributes to the maintenance and survival of the community as a whole. Women and men share an equal work burden. The women keep the supplies organized and make sure the food is used in a way that will feed the most mouths. Men constantly scout the area, and there are guards posted around the campsite at all times.

And all the while, Chris is taking the liberated prisoners from the labor camp and turning them into new recruits. Sophia and I are sitting on a fallen log, watching him walk back and forth, talking to them. Both men and women are wearing clean clothes. Like me, they’re so happy to be freed from enslavement that the idea of joining an army seems like a great opportunity.

And, also like me, they might change their mind later.

“You know what I think?” Sophia says.

“Hmm?”

“I think Chris Young is way too old for you.”