Hello everyone! Thank you for choosing my story to read! This story came to me awhile ago and I've been working on it, on again, off again. But now I have finally got the first part done and I really hope you all enjoy it. I have decided that this story will consist of four different parts but I will make sure that each part in jammed packed and long. This is not my first fanfic so hopefully there are less mistakes and it is more enjoyable to read. Of course, reviews are always welcomed and appreciated. Thanks again!
-DL
P.S. no, the character is not exactly named after my username per say. Obviously, Dakota is not my real name but it is my favorite so I said, to hell with it, my OC is gonna have the same first name! Anyways, onto the story.
*9 Years after the blackout*
The bell above the door rang and Dakota Pierce looked up from repairing the old beaten up book she had been tending to for weeks. She was sitting in the back room of her small bookstore she owned in a small town in Pennsylvania near the Susquehanna River. She had not been the owner of this bookstore before the black out but now it was hers. And it was the perfect place for a rebel base of operations. All around her were maps and plans laid out in different places. Dakota had basically laid out all these strategies herself because she had experience from the several years she served in the Marines before the blackout.
Dakota got up from her chair and walked out of the musty back room and into the small front of the store that was crowded with book shelves. She straightened out her black V-neck long sleeve and brushed off her dark jeans. Her black combat boots made muffled thumps on the hardwood floors. She pushed her thick dark curls off her shoulders as she weaved in and out of the shelves. She reached the front desk that had an old fashioned cash register on it and stood next to it. A wide smile spread across her face when she saw the familiar faces in front of her.
"Scott! Adam! It's good to see you guys!" She walked over to the two men and hugged them both. Scott was an older man, late forties, graying hair and built like a brick wall. Adam was around her age, mid-thirties, short blonde hair, handsome with a medium build.
"It's good to see you too." Adam said with a smile that was infectious.
"What, um, brings you by?" Dakota asked them, not wanting to know the answer. They usually didn't visit unless they came to pick up the next battle strategies or... something bad happened. Dakota hadn't been expecting them so they must be here for the latter reason.
"We uh, have some bad news." Adam said. Dakota nodded her head and walked over to the front door and turned the "open" sign to "closed."
"Not up here." She led them into the back room. She motioned for them to all sit at the table small and they did. Dakota sat as well and pushed the abused book to the side, folding her hands in front of her.
"Alright. Fill me in." So they did. They each took turns telling her of the battle that was waging all over the republic. They spoke of the different rebel camps that had been wiped out by militia and how many men had been injured or brutally killed in action. They finished and Dakota felt sick. She had not seen these attacks coming and she felt somewhat responsible for it all. The rebel camps relied on her to help them fight against the militia, not be defeated by it. But none of the rebels knew who she was. Adam and Scott were the only two who knew who she actually was. The only thing the rebels knew was that they were helped out by someone named William Washington. Some rebels didn't like that it was secret and many asked questions but the fewer that knew about her, the less information the militia could learn. "I feel horrible. This is my fault." She covered her mouth with her hand.
"No, Kody, it isn't. No one could have anticipated these attacks." Adam reassured. She raised her head. She nodded and cleared her throat.
"We're guessing the Generals are getting restless and just decided to send out a whole bunch of troops to find as many camps as they could and eliminate them."
"I see." She said quietly, her mind buzzing with a million thoughts at once. She stood and walked over to the large map that was hanging on a reversible chalk board. She grabbed a marker and crossed off several parts on the map. "The marks i just made are all of the camps that Miles and Ba..." Dakota cleared her throat and corrected herself, "Generals Matheson and Monroe have wiped out thus far. That's far too many. That also means we are down by 100 men." Dakota pinched the bridge of her nose. "Do we have any idea where they plan on striking next?"
"No. The attacks have been random really." Scott replied
"Word is that even the Generals themselves are going around and looking at the destroyed camps." Adam added.
"Why would they even bother to do that?" Dakota asked not taking her eyes off of the map.
"Survivors means information." Dakota sighed but before she could speak the bell from the front door rang. Everyone in the room went still. Her heart sped up slightly. "I thought you turned the sign to 'close'." Scott whispered. She turned her head to look at him.
"I did." Dakota quietly, cautiously walked over to the far corner of the room. She lifted a peep hole cover and peered through it. Militia men stood in the front of the store. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She covered the hole again and moved to roll up maps and other documents. "You all need to leave. Now." Dakota whispered hastily. She flipped the chalk board over to the empty side.
"Why? What's wrong?" Adam, now standing, asked. Dakota stopped what she was doing and looked at her old friend.
"They're here."
"Militia? But... thats impossible. There is no way they could know!" Scott exclaimed quietly.
"It doesnt matter now. You both need to get out of here." She said shoving documents and papers into different drawers.
"We are not leaving you." Dakota stopped and looked at both men sternly.
"I'm not asking you." Their faces were filled with defiance but they knew she was right. They were just trying to be good friends.
"You know what they do to rebel's, Kody." Adam said placing a hand on her arm. Dakota sighed and nodded slowly.
"I know but having just one of us is better than having all of us." Dakota walked over to a random spot on the floor and lifted up a dirty old rug. There was a trap door and she crouched down and opened the hatch. "This will lead you to a safe place." Scott jumped down first and then Adam. They were crouched down in the dank tunnel and looked back up at her. Their eyes were filled with sadness.
"Are you sure?" She smiled at her friends.
"Yes." She was about to close the hatch but stopped. "Wait." The two men looked back up at her. "Don't come looking for me. That's an order." Then she closed the door before they could protest. Dakota locked the hatch and replaced the rug. Dakota walked back over to the table and gathered as many documents as she could and shoved them into more desk drawers.
"Hello?" She heard a male voice call from the store front.
"Yes! I'll be right with you!" Dakota took a deep breath and walked out into the store. She walked to her counter and stood behind it. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at the face that stared back at her. "Miles." She breathed out softly. He furrowed his brows at her and she watched his eyes searched her face for an answer. The creases in his face vanished as recognition set in.
"Dakota Pierce." He smirked as he said her name and it sent chills up her spin. Not the good kind either. She looked past him and saw that there were four militia men standing behind him. Her heart beat incredibly fast against her rib cage. She looked back at Miles. He was intimidating, no doubt. He was the General after all. It hadn't always been that way though. "God. It's been years. Your hair is so long." His eyes trailed the close to elbow length curls down and then back up again, his eyes focusing on her face. Dakota felt her face flush.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, trying to sound nonchalant but really she was trying not to shake in her boots. He still wore the smirk on his face and she watched his eyes scan her. Possibly checking to see if she was armed... or not.
"I couldn't stop by and say hello to an old military buddy?"
"Well, since you didn't recognize me almost instantly and having your little posse here, armed with guns and swords, with you... I'm going to say no." Dakota said sarcastically, eying the pistols by all the soldiers hips. Miles' grin widened and he placed both hands flat on the counter and leaned forward. Dakota didn't move back and kept her eyes locked with his.
"A very helpful source told us that you've been running a little rebel base of operations out of this establishment." His eyes scanned the small space filled with rows of books. They focused back on her when he spoke again."Funny because I never figured you to be one to side with such low ranks."
"Just remember that I used to be the one in charge, Matheson."
"Oh I haven't."
Dakota raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Do you have any evidence to support this claim of rebel activity?" He lifted one of his hands off of the counter and twirled a piece of her curly hair between his fingers. He looked down at the soft tendril that he had twined around his rough calloused fingers.
"I will in about five seconds." At that, the militia men spread out and began knocking books off of shelves and tearing things off of the walls. She saw some head to the back. Dakota jerked away from Miles and went to follow the men.
"Wait! What are you doing?! What gives you the right..." a strong grip on her upper arm stopped her and was spun around, forced to face Miles. He grabbed her under her chin and pulled her face close to his.
"I do." He growled.
"Sir, we found something." Miles looked up at the voice that called to him from the back room.
"Come with me." He said yanking Dakota alongside him with a deathly grip. Dakota thought he might just yank her arm right out of its socket. He brought her to a halt in front of the doorway to the back room. Dakota's heart sank when she saw what the militia men had done. The once neat and tidy room now looked like a tornado had ripped through it; drawers were thrown haphazardly onto the floor, papers scattered everywhere, the map on the chalk board was showing. They had, of course, found the rebel papers that she had not had the time to properly hide. Dakota noticed that one of the soldiers had her old camouflage military uniform in his hands. Miles pushed her into the room and then took the uniform from the soldiers hands. His eyes examined the uniform before they slowly looked up at her.
"Sentimental much?" Dakota clenched her jaw and swallowed hard.
"Oh don't tell me I'm the only one who thinks about the old days." Although she knew the Miles Matheson that stood in front of her was not the same person she had known before the blackout. Before he had the chance to answer, one of the militia men spoke up.
"Sir, we've found plans, maps and strategies of the rebels."
"Well, there's your evidence. Do you want a chance to explain?" He said throwing the uniform on the ground.
"Not really, no." Dakota suddenly saw stars and her jaw was filled with excrutial pain. She rose a hand up to her face and gingerly touched the now burning red flesh that was her cheek.
"You should talk to me with more respect." Dakota tasted copper in her mouth and spat blood on the ground.
"Sorry. I don't respect murderers." She saw him raise his hand to slap her again and Dakota cringed, waiting for the blow.
"Sir!" Miles turned his head to look at the soldier. Dakota opened her eyes and saw that the soldier had found the passageway. "An escape route." Miles grabbed Dakota by the front of her shirt and looked at her with rage.
"Let anybody out recently?" Dakota shook her head. The soldiers broke the lock and opened the door.
"Sir, there are fresh foot prints in the dirt." Damn. Fate was not on her side today.
"Why don't you just tell the goddamn truth?" She waited for him to hit her again but he didn't. He just barked orders at his men. "Cuff her and put her with the rest. You two stay here and gather everything up." Two soldiers came over and grabbed Dakota, cuffed her hands behind her back and literally drug her out of the store. When they got outside, there was a covered wagon waiting there, horses in the front. A small crowd had formed and many of the faces were so familiar to Dakota. She didn't meet any of their gazes. The militia men opened the doors and told her to get into the back of the wagon. She sat down on the hard wooden bench and looked around at all of the rebel faces surrounding her. They had no idea she was the one who had screwed everything up. The militia men closed the back doors and they were surrounded by darkness.
The militia had not picked up any more prisoners after Dakota. They all rode in silence as the wagon made its bumpy way to, no doubt, Philadelphia. Dakota wasn't stupid when it came to what her penalty would be. What all of their penalty will most likely be. They executed most rebels after they've tortured them for information. Dakota knew that she had a small chance of survival though and if it was given to her, she would take it.
With that, Dakota leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
*Two Years before the blackout*
"Alright, Ladies! Give me fifty push ups now!" The group of men, Marines, in front of her dropped down and all started to do push ups on command. Some struggled and some were still going strong. The wind blew her chin length curls in front of her face and she impatiently tucked them behind her ears. She paced back and forth watching all of them with green, scrutinizing eyes. "Walker! you call that a push up? If you don't pick it up I'm going to make you do fifty more! You too Thompson! It's like a bunch of teenage girls who don't want to get a little sweaty. "
"Bitch." Someone muttered under their breath. Dakota turned around and looked down at the man doing his push ups. She crouched down in front of him and he looked up at her, holding himself up.
"What was that?"
"Don't you think its a little hypocritical to be calling us girls, being that you are one?" he said sarcastically.
"You say that, yet even though I am a woman, I'm still twice the man you will ever be. Now finish your push ups and get the hell out of my sight." That earned a few chuckles and even "Ohh's" from some of the men.
"Oh, sweetheart, your going to wish you'd never said that." Dakota smiled in his face.
"I highly doubt that." He gave her an angry look and started his exercises again. Dakota stood up and saw that two men were already done. "See there? Two excellent role models for all of you to look up to." She crossed her arms and smirked at the two sergeants who were also her good friends. "Matheson. Monroe. You are both dismissed." They both saluted her and gave her big grins before turning and walking away. Dakota smiled to herself and shook her head as she watched them walk away, side by side.
The wagon came to an abrupt stop that brought Dakota out of her dream. Well, it was more of a memory. She opened her eyes and it was still dark in the wagon. She could hear bustling on the other side of the wooden prison walls. The wagon doors were unlocked and they were swung open, letting in bright sunlight. They had reached Philadelphia.
As General Monroe looked out the window onto the streets of Philadelphia, he noticed the new prisoners had arrived. He himself had just gotten back from inspecting the destroyed rebel camps, interrogating some people himself. He got better results doing it himself anyways. He watched as the wagon stop and soldiers surrounded the back doors. They unlocked them and opened them. One by one the rebel prisoners fell out of the wagon, hands cuffed and escorted to the prison by soldiers. The doors to the room opened and Miles strode in. Monroe didn't need to turn his head to see who it was because he'd recognize his friends footsteps anywhere.
"How did it go?"
Miles scoffed as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. "It was a pain in my ass and I really don't see why you want us to go..."
"Because if it is not done, then there will be serious threats out there to the Republic. Besides, I like the results I get when interrogating myself." Monroe still stared down at the prisoners.
"Well, there wasn't really anything serious, Bass. We got rid of at least a dozen of their camps." Miles informed and Monroe turned his head and looked at his friend.
"You say that now but there will always be more. What are you smiling about?"
"You wont believe who's a rebel now." Monroe was about to ask but Miles held his hand up and pointed to the window. "Just look." Monroe gave him a suspicious look but eventually looked back out the window. Just as he did, he saw a familiar head a dark brown hair escorted out of the wagon. Her wrists were cuffed and she was being led away by two soldiers. He watched the familiar slim figure disappeared not into the prison where all of the other rebels were being taken; no, the soldiers led her into the very building he was standing in.
So many soldiers bombarded Dakota once she got out of the wagon. They quickly led her into a different building than the other rebels were being taken to. They walked down a set of cement stairs and into a basement that was filled with prison cells. They took off her handcuffs and threw, literally threw, her into a small prison cell. Dakota lay there on the hard, dank floor for a moment, dazed out of her mind. Then she found the strength to get herself into a sitting position. She looked around and the only thing in the cell was a small wooden cot. "Now, where do they expect me to go to the bathroom?" She joked to herself.
Dakota hoisted herself from off of the floor and sat on the edge of the cot. The only thing on the cot was an old ratty blanket. Dakota sighed and exhaustion suddenly hit her all at once. She lay down on her side and rested her head on her arm. She closed her eyes and sleep whisked her away from the horrible things that were to come.
Dakota woke to the sound of someone banging something on the bars of her cell. When she opened her eyes, Miles stood on the other side of the barred door with a pistol in his hand, staring at her. "Do you mind?" was all she said. He holstered his gun and took keys from his pocket.
"Get up." he ordered. Dakota rolled on her back and then propped herself up with her arms and looked at Miles through the bars.
"It's already time for my execution?" She asked in a mocking tone.
"It can be." He said challenging her tone of voice slightly.
"Well, if your here, then it must be for something bad." He unlocked the door and it swung open.
"Kody, I think our definitions of 'bad' are slightly different." Dakota scoffed and glared at him. "Stand up. Hands out." He said walking into the cell. Dakota did as she was told and held her hands out in front of her and he cuffed her wrists. "There's a good girl." She wanted to punch him oh so very badly but she didn't want to feel the repercussions of it. He grabbed her by her upper arm and led her out of her cell.
"Where are we going, Miles?"
"You'll just have to wait and see."
"Oh come on. You know how much I hate surprises."
"Yes. I know a lot about you, actually." The way he said that with so little expression frightened her. He led her up the stairs and onto the main floor of the building. His grip on her arm was like iron as they walked through the hallways. The building was beautiful and was definitely very old. If her fourth grade memory serves her right, they were in Independence Hall.
Dakota's heart rate became more rapid as they walked farther into the building. They finally reached a set of doors where soldiers stood on either side. When they saw them approaching the soldiers straightened and opened the doors for them. They walked side by side into the room and Dakota noticed that there were two more soldiers standing by the door on the inside. She scanned them and saw that they were all carrying pistols and possibly even more. Miles stopped abruptly and turned his head to the guards. "Leave." He ordered and the guards left, closing the doors behind them, no questions asked.
Dakota took a minute or so to assess where they were. It was an office of some sort; long table by large windows that let in the sunlight, a fireplace set into the same wall as the door, where a fire crackled, couch and chairs in front of the fireplace and two desks at the opposite end of the room. No one sat behind the desks, however. A huge map of the republic hung on the wall behind the desks. She looked back at Miles with her eyebrows raised. "Gonna tell me why I'm here or not?" He didn't say anything but looked past her as a door opened and footsteps sounded on the wooden floor. Dakota turned her attention back to the front of the room and her heart skipped a beat. Her arms went numb as they hung in front of her, the cuffs choking her wrists.
General Sebastian Monroe stood by a closed door, his hand still on the doorknob. He regarded her with familiar blue eyes. Dakota did not smile when she saw him, just stood there lost for words. She shifted her weight to her other foot and took a deep breath.
"Hi." She said, not addressing with any kind of formality. Just, 'hi.' He opened his mouth slightly as if to say something, but nothing was said and his eyes looked over her before they refocused back on her face.
"Dakota. You look," he paused for a second, "good."
"Thanks. You too but I mean, who doesn't like a man in uniform?" She asked trying to lighten the tension in the room. The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly. She felt Miles shift slightly behind her.
"Your hair is so much longer than before." He said, his voice lighter, his eyes trailing down her elbow length curls. What is up with the hair thing?
"Well, there aren't exactly salons around anymore." She moved her gaze from him down to the cuffs. "Are these really necessary?" She rattled the cuffs. Dakota watched Monroe's gaze shift to Miles. She guessed that they were having a silent conversation between themselves. Then Bass nodded and Miles took the cuffs off of her.
"Don't do anything stupid." Miles said to her. She grinned at him.
"Who? Me?" Miles simply rolled his eyes and stood tensely next to her. Dakota rubbed her sore wrists and looked around the room again. "You know, the last time I was here, was on a fourth grade field trip. Got in trouble for touching the Liberty Bell." Bass grinned at her as he walked over to one of the desks.
"Seems like you were just born to rebell." Miles said, slowly turning his head to look at her. Being taller than her, Dakota had to look up in order to glare at him.
"I didn't believe it was you at first." Monroe said. Dakota looked back at him. "Hell, I didn't even believe it when Miles told me he found you." He stood behind the desk and opened a drawer. "But," he continued, reaching into the drawer, "My men found this." he said tossing something onto the floor near her feet. Dakota moved her hands to shield herself just in case. But her arms dropped to her sides when she heard a thump as something landed on the floor. Dakota looked down at the folded camouflage uniform, her last name embroidered on the breast pocket. "I had no doubt after I saw that." He walked around to the front of the desk and leaned back against it, hands in his pockets. Dakota stared down at the uniform and swallowed hard.
"Why am I here?" She said sternly, her gaze moving from the uniform to Monroe.
"You broke the law." He said simply. His head tilted to the side slightly and added, "Or maybe I just wanted to see an old friend. After all, we don't see many of those these days." He said looking over her shoulder to Miles.
"I wonder why that is." She said crossing her arms. His eyes focused back on her.
"You still have that sharp tongue."
"Yes well after the blackout, some people hardly changed."
"Your one to talk," Miles interjected as he walked forward so that he was not behind her anymore but still close enough to catch her if she decided to do anything brash. Which would most likely be asking to be shot. "You banding together with your little rebel buddies." Dakota couldn't help the laugh that came out.
"You don't know the half of it." She started but quickly shut her mouth. Don't say anything! she told herself mentally. But it was too late. She had, of course, already caught their interest.
"Oh please. Don't stop there." Miles said coolly. Dakota's heart rate sped up and tried to think of ways to escape this conversation. "Or do you need a little persuasion." Miles put a hand on the holstered gun attached to his leg. Dakota looked over at Bass but his blue eyes slid lazily from Miles to her. He was totally fine with the idea of her being shot. Great.
"The rebels don't even know who I am."
"What does that mean exactly?" Bass asked her. She took a deep breath to calm herself and folded her arms across her chest.
"They think that I am someone named William Washington."
"Yeah that's original." Miles commented. Dakota rolled her eyes and continued.
"I only have two contacts that come to me with updates and information. If the rebels need help I devise strategies, lay out plans of attack and create basic guidelines to help them out."
"And these contacts would be..." Bass trailed off and waited for an answer. Dakota grinned and shook her head.
"You really expect me to give them up so easily? Thought I'd see you again and spill my guts out about everything that I know?" Monroe's eyes were like blue flames that burned into her own.
"And how much do you know, Kody?" He asked her. She clenched her jaw to keep herself from saying anything.
"She probably knows where all the camps are positioned. Where most of their weapons and ammunition depots are. Even where they keep their rations of food and water. Am I close?" Dakota turned her head to look at Miles. "Not going to talk? That's okay, your silence says everything."
"Our men said that they found an escape route under the floor." Bass looked at her with such an intensity that she had to look away. "They also said they saw fresh foot prints. Tell me who you helped sneak out. Was it your contacts?" He must have seen her expression change when he mentioned them. "Ah, it was, wasn't it?"
"I didn't sneak anyone out." She said still avoiding his gaze.
"You know," he began, "the nice thing about knowing someone for a long time is that you get to know when the other is lying." Bass looked over at Miles and nodded his head. Miles walked over to the doors and let in two soldiers. They walked over to her and a soldier stood on either side of her, holding her arms. She watched as Monroe and Miles strode over to the fireplace and the soldiers followed like obedient dogs, dragging Dakota along with them. There was a small coffee table in front of the fire place which Dakota and the soldiers stood behind. Monroe stood in silence staring at the fire and then waved to the soldiers.
Before Dakota knew what was happening, the soldiers had her on her knees and had her left arm pinned, wrist up, to the top of the table. She struggled underneath their hold but the more she struggled, the more painful it was. One of the guards held her head up by a fistful of hair and the other stepped on the back of her legs to prevent her from standing up. The one that held her legs down was also the one that held her arm down. He used his free hand to roll up her sleeve, exposing her skin.
Dakota watched as Monroe pulled an iron poker out of the fire. Miles just stood by and watched in silence. She looked at the hot red end of the iron poker but noticed that it wasn't an ordinary poker; at the end of it was a brand with a capital M on it. He turned around and stood in front of the coffee table. He stared at the poker as he spoke. "I'll ask you again, who did you sneak out?"
"No one!" Dakota exclaimed. Monroe's eyes darted down to her face. All she saw was emptiness. "You don't have to do this! Please! I swear I didn't let anyone sneak out!" She thought she saw something flash across his face. Was it sympathy? Pity? Sadness? Or was it just her imagination. It was gone within a second. Even though she pleaded, he wasn't convinced.
"Let's see how your little rebel companions take the news that you have turned on them and have officially become a member of the Republic." He lowered the brand closer to her wrist. Dakota struggled as she felt the heat emanating from the hot iron that was held only inches away from her skin.
"No! Bass! Don't!" Dakota pleaded with everything she had. She looked over at Miles but he wouldn't look back at her.
"Then tell me what I want to know!" He yelled.
"I don't know anything." Dakota said in a soft voice. She thought she saw that something flicker across his face again but it disappeared. White hot pain shot up through Dakota's arm as the brand scorched her skin. She closed her eyes and screamed in agony. When she opened her eyes, she looked down at the burnt flesh and the crude letter that was forever fused into her skin. Tears stung her eyes but she forced them back. She looked up at Monroe who had his back turned to her, putting the brand back into the fireplace.
"Take her away." The soldiers forced Dakota to her feet. It was as if all of her energy had been expended on screaming and she had none left. She let the guards drag her out of her room and back to the hell hole that was her prison cell.