Invisible Ledge - Chapter Five

The confusion my face must be extremely amusing, since he breaks into a laugh soon after his revelation. Never in my life did I thought I'd see Edward laugh, not even taking into consideration everything else I've just learned about him. He looks different here, in his office, his domain. Edward's always been a block of concrete, both mentally and physically, and probably always will be. He's a tall, large man, seemingly chiseled out of stone, with a stern expression, dirty brown hair and unnaturally cold blue eyes. I always wondered how did a man like that, built like an ox, become a boring old professor. Guess the joke's on me.

"Come now Mister Harris. A bright mind like you must have picked up some hints as to what's going on here..." He says with a cocky, yet strangely friendly voice.

I think the biggest shock isn't that Edward is the leader of these underground rebels, that he's not really an Insurgent hater, but the fact he payed me a compliment without sounding sarcastic and snide.

"I.... no. Your people did a real good job not telling me a damn thing, and shoving me down here without a word. I think I would have been less surprised if I had found out these rebels are being lead by a donkey than I am now. No offense sir."

His eyes narrow at me for a moment and I twitch. It's still Edward, I tell to myself. I need to watch my mouth, perhaps even more so now that I know he's got an entire underground at his disposal.

"None taken. Look, Andrew. I understand that this is a strange situation for you, awkward even. But, if you're just going to stand there with your mouth gaping open like a mule... Maybe you're not cut out for this."

He knows how to play me, push my buttons just the right way to make me act. For the first time though, that's a good thing.

"No, sir. I'm fine, really. Just surprised."

"Good. I take it you're with us then?"

"I'd have to know more, sir. I mean... what you told me about the Risen is all well and nice, but I knew most of that already. I didn't learn anything I didn't already know. Other than the fact my University professor is also a rebellion leader."

"You knew? How could you possibly know when you've been fed nothing but lies your entire life. You've even been accepted into the community."

"You of all should know this isn't the case sir. While we're at it... You're not Insurgent, else there's no way you'd have that kind of job. Just... what are you?"

"I belong to the Ordinate. The original Ordinate, mind you, there's a big difference between us and those boot lickers in the government. There's only a handful of us left, those who've sworn to aid their Alaeiant brethren."

"Didn't the Ordinate side with the Risen? You're not making much sense."

"Indeed. However, joining someone's forces, and being loyal to them are two different things. Those of us who knew the Risen would bring nothing but death and destruction made a pact with the Insurgent, as they were known by that point. Put them down, no matter the cost."

"Well that worked out well for everyone then." I interrupt, agitated. Just how many lies have I been told my entire life? Countless probably...

"Don't you dare be disrespectful, Harris! We did all we could..." And that's when I loose my temper. If they had done all they could my parents and sister would still be alive.

"Oh yes, it must have been nice sipping tea with the Risen while their air crafts annihilated every single Insurgent, and left countless of orphans to fend for themselves!"

"Why do you think you were allowed to live?! Who do you think convinced the Risen not to murder the children too? It sure as hell wasn't your dead parents!"

"I..." My mouth is open but no words come out. I'm gripping the chair so firmly that my fingers are pale white, completely devoid of blood. He's right. I always wondered why they had kept us alive. Why not just kill us and get it over with? Guess I have an answer to that now as well...

"Just... don't talk about things you know nothing about, Andrew. It's a painful subject for all of us. All you need to know is that we all have the same goals here. We all want those monsters overthrown, so the human race can finally find some resemblance of a peaceful existence."

"Think it's a bit too late for that, professor."

"It's not yours to think about that. Is it safe to assume you're with us now?" He folds his massive arms and leans on the desk, staring me down with those icy orbs he has for eyes. I hesitate for a moment. Just what am I getting myself into? Should I trust these people? And then I remember my existence amongst the Risen, and with a renewed fervor, I nod.

"Yes sir. Let's bring them down."

He heaves out a sigh or relief, but retains his stern posture.

"About time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've an uprising to organize. Go talk to Christie, and she'll set you up here, as well as introduce you to Andrea, she takes care of the recruits.

That name sends out a jolt of pain throughout my entire body. Andrea was the name of my elder sister, the same sister who's name I shout out every night, waking up drenched of sweat from the nightmares I still get about the night she disappeared.

It's been six years, yet I still vividly remember every detail. Andrea was walking me to our little apartment. I had gotten into another fight, or rather got beat up again, and as always, she was the one to pull me out of it. Walking home she cleaned my face from the dirt, holding me close to comfort me. I was six years younger than her, so at that time she wasn't much older than I am now. Yet, I can't imagine being capable of taking care of a little kid, like she had been doing.

"Damn it Andy, you can't keep doing this. And I can't keep saving you. Look at your lip..."

"Hey, I didn't ask you to come! Who called you anyway? Sarah? Nosy little bi-..."

"Andrew, language! And don't talk about her like that, she's a sweet little girl. And yes, she saved your sorry ass. Again. At least be grateful if you can't be nice."

"Why should I? She's creepy! And she shouldn't have called you. I don't need you!"

"Andrew! What's gotten into you?"

"I'm just sick of everyone trying to protect me! I can look out for myself, alright? I had them!"

"Had them what? Had them think you're a punching bag, maybe." She got agitated and pushed away from me, towering over me with a frown of disappointment.

We stop and she crouches down, looking at me eye to eye.

"Where's all this coming from?"

"You know damn well! I'm sick of all of this! We're being treated like cattle Andie, we're maggots! Sometimes I just wish I had died along with mom and dad."

And that was the first and only time she had ever slapped me. She did so with tears running down her cheeks.

"Don't ever let me hear you say that again, do you understand? We're their kids. They died to build a future for us. We grit out teeth, we claw our way out of all the crap we get tossed in, and we never break down. You understand me?"

I didn't at the time, though I said I did. She smiled meekly and pulled me into a hug, right there on the street. The sweet, flowery perfume that she could barely afford still follows me to this very day, along with the black bags under her eyes and the cracked skin of her work worn hands.

"Alright. Now, let's get you home. I need to get back to work, so you'll be staying alone tonight, alright?"

I hated staying alone at night. It happened more and more often as I got older and Andrea had begun to take more and more night shifts at one of her jobs. She had three, so she could put some food on the table and allow us to have some kind of normal life. I wanted to ask her to stay with me, to give the shift to someone else. I'd even skip lunch for the next week, so she wouldn't need the extra money. But, instead I nodded, determined to make her proud of my "courage."

We were just outside our little run down apartment building when we heard gunshots and shouting in the alley behind us. Andrea told me to stay put and, staying true to her nature till the very end, ran in that direction. I just stood there, confused and alone in the dark. I could feel the shadows extending their twisted claws at me, wanting to suck me in and turn me into a shadow too. Where is she? I thought to myself, and just as I did, another gunshot filled the air, along with a scream that will haunt me till my dying day. Andrea's scream.

I ran to her as fast as my feet wanted to carry me. Nobody could have wanted to hurt Andrea, I told myself, trying to calm down as I ran. Surely enough, I was wrong because all I found in the alley was a bloody trail, like someone had dragged a crimson paintbrush over the concrete in a single direction.

I called Andrea's name more times than I could cont. I ran around everywhere looking for her, searching for her long brown hair and kind eyes. But all in vain. That night ended with me curled up in that very same alley, crying my eyes out and wishing I'd die. Andrea was gone, there was no one left... I died that night. Died and became another person the second I heard Andrea's words in my head after I had been wallowing on the concrete alone for hours.

"We grit out teeth, we claw our way out of all the crap we get tossed in, and we never break down. You understand me?"

I got up from that pavement a changed person, one determined to make his sister proud of him no matter what. One that would never back down, never allow himself to crumble under fate's boot. One that would keep fighting, kicking and screaming till the day he collapsed.

The authorities did a weak investigation that was dropped not even a week after that, leaving me alone to my devices. Living on welfare I managed to claw my way up, finally obtaining the rank of Advanced Student, and leaving the apartment filled with agonizing memories for Hawthorne's dorm.

All of these painful memories surge through me in less than a moment, and I'm back at Edward's office, a thirteen year old boy turned nineteen year old man, determined now, more than ever to make his sister proud of him.

"Something wrong Andrew? You look troubled." He asks, appearing genuinely concerned.

"I'm fine, sir. Some old memories resurfacing is all."

"Alright. Well, I guess we're done. I'll keep an eye on you, Andrew. You show promise. I just hope you make it through training."

I'm almost at the door when I turn around to face him again.

"Make it through training? Aren't I..."

"No, you're not. We need capable people for this Andrew, otherwise we'll have a hundred lives on our hands when a crisis occurs and people who can't handle it get in the way. Andrea will explain everything. Now please, I've got a lot of work to do..."

I nod without answering and walk out, closing the door behind me without giving him a second glance.

Christie is waiting for me, beaming and anxious, so I try to hide my darkening mood.

"How did it go?" She asks with a smile of pearly whites.

"Went well. He told me you'll show me around the place, and then I report to Andrea."

"Ah, right, the training. I'm sure you'll make it through that..." Trying to sound confident in my abilities doesn't really suit her, but I shrug either way.

"Guess so. Shall we?"

We spend the next hour or so touring the main parts of the Molehill. The place seems like a maze, but Christie navigates it effortlessly.

I learn the rebels are divided into five divisions, each dedicated to a different purpose. There's the Control Division, which controls the entire operation. The Tech Division makes it goals trying to break down and replicate any useful piece of technology they can get their hands on. Field and Recon divisions are yet to be assigned anything, as it's just not their time yet. When it is, they'll take care of all the field work, and will become the most important divisions of the five. Finally, there's the Training Division, dedicated to training all the recruits, and sorting them into the divisions later on.

All this strict organization makes me wonder for just how long has this movement been happening. More than I would like to know, probably.

Once the tour is done Christie says we're to meet Andrea finally, which just makes my stomach turn. That name will forever stir a would that will never heal.

Apparently all the recruits are to move in to quarters specifically designed for them. I nearly freak out when I find out that all my worldly possessions have already been brought down fro Hawthorne's. How the hell did they know where I live?

The sleeping quarters is a specious cubical room lit with powerful Xaneon lights. It's filled with two story bunk beds which cover the walls entirely, along with cast iron footlockers for the recruit's belongings. In the center of the room there's a dark brown coffee table covered in what seems to be years upon years of stains, and old couches and armchairs spread around a wide screen television set. Not half bad, considering most of the Lower District lives in complete poverty.

Sitting in one of the armchairs is a tall, tanned woman with black hair and warm, almond-shaped eyes. She's wearing a sleeveless black leather tunic, a utility belt, plain black pants and combat boots, and the dark skin of her arms is decorated with intricate lines which form a spiral, inked into her skin. Like Edward she's muscular and looks like she's been chiseled from a stone, rather than a woman. Yet, there's something rather feminine about her.

Ever before Christie introduces me I know this must be Andrea. She looks nothing like my sister. Why do I feel like crying then?

"So you're the new recruit Edward's been raving about? One of Ed's snatches?"

She looks at Christie, barely even acknowledging my existence after our handshake in which she nearly crushed my hand.

"One of mine actually." Christie says glibly.

"About time you started pulling your weight around here. What's your name, recruit?"

I barely realize she's talking to me. I'm fixated on her brown eyes, her voice, her posture. Chastising, stern, loudmouth. Definitely nothing like my sister.

"Andrew Harris. Pleasu-..."

"Save it recruit! You'll be taking those words back after the first training session anyway. Get yourself situated, claim a bunk bed if you don't like the one assigned to you. The others should be back from the polygon soon enough. Canderor, with me."

She commands and walks out towards the door. It takes me a second to realize she's talking to Christie. She smiles and pulls me into a friendly, quick hug, speaking in a hushed voice.

"You'll be on your own for a while. I'm an instructor, so I can't mingle too much with the recruits. The others will fill you in on everything. Take care, alright? And whatever you do, don't get on Andrea's bad side..."

At that exact moment I hear Andrea's firm voice again.

"Canderor!"

Christie jumps and quickly runs after her without another word.

I try to make myself comfortable, unpacking whatever little clothes I have into the footlocker by my bed. Scouting around the room I found there's a few other rooms connected to the main one. There's two doors next to each other, with iron plates which have the word "bathroom" engraved on them, a mini kitchen with the most basic appliances, and one more room with a locked door. Maybe a pantry?

I decide to freshen up before I meet the others, taking off my shirt, taking a clean one and going towards one of the bathrooms. I pull on the handle and slide the door open, only to find myself face to face with a girl sobbing on the bathroom floor. And I'm shirtless. But my shock is nothing compared to hers.

The way she looks at me you'd think she's looking at a five headed lizard. She rushes to her feet immediately, furiously wiping off her cheeks and turn away from me.

"Oh sorry, I didn't know anyone was outside. I...fell. Yeah."

I don't know who she's trying to fool, but I go along with it, choosing not to push the subject any further. Everyone's got their own stuff to deal with, and hers is none of my business.

"My bad. I'll just go to the other one, alright? Sorry..."

She nods, not even turning to face me, and I walk out of the bathroom. Weird.

The others arrive while I'm freshening up in the other bathroom, and I go back to a room filled with loud, sweaty, rude people in black track suits. Most of them are my age, and there's about an equal number of men and women. To say it's a diverse group would be an understatement, varying in hair styles alone from completely cropped to long, dyed ponytails. And that's just the men.

The noise stops when I walk out, and I immediately feel everyone's gaze on me. It takes me a moment to realize I still have my shit off, but I'm just looking at them blankly, the same way they're looking at me.

Finally, a muscular blonde girl with a pink bow in her hair says through a grin.

"Nice nipples."

Everyone breaks into a laugh while a rush of red floods into my cheeks. I throw on my shirt quickly, grinning a bit at the situation myself. I walk up to them, and just as I'm about to introduce myself the entrance to the quarters opens, and Ed walks inside, looking as grim as death.