ONE YEAR EARLIER
There was once a boy named Nathan.
"A man," Nathan said. "I'm a man."
He pleaded with his aunt and uncle to let him go to the party.
"It'll attract Authority soldiers. It's too dangerous, dear," said his aunt.
Aunt Becky.
"Besides that, dear," she said, taking his face in her hand, "you're only seventeen years old. Hardly a man. When you're bringing home a full-time living wage like your uncle, then you'll be a man. You don't even have a family yet. You don't understand responsibility. You don't have anything to lose."
But her voice droned into nothingness as Nathan stared ahead, tears coming to his eyes.
He blinked them away, hoping she didn't notice.
She hadn't.
And he knew she wouldn't.
She was always concerned with herself, only pretending to be concerned with him. He had the impression that when she cared for him it was really only all for herself. So she could tell herself that she was a good aunt, a great and caring person.
She didn't know him.
Didn't even try to understand him.
In the background, his uncle snored from his place in his recliner.
*****
Nathan felt like he had no one.
Other than Autumn, of course.
And he sat in his room, which was a small cubicle, essentially.
Stared at the small shelf lined with books.
Books of great adventure.
The only thing his aunt and uncle ever told him about himself and his past was that he was related to great explorers. But that they'd all died.
They'd given him a book, written about one of the explorers.
He took it from the shelf.
The pages were crisp, old.
Flipping through the pages, he pressed his nose to them.
To him, it was the smell of adventure.
Of promise.
Apparently the man, the great explorer, was his uncle.
He'd read the book many times.
The man had explored mountains, diving down deep within them, searching for secrets of old. Tales of haunted things. Dark and glorious tales.
Nathan knew he was meant for more than his current life, which was small and protected.
He needed to see the world.
He needed a great adventure.
*****
Which was why no dictate from his aunt or uncle would hold him back from going to the party. His aunt hadn't understated the threat. The Authority didn't like parties—or laughter or fun of any kind. Laughter truly was the bane of all dictators, for it couldn't be controlled.
It's a gut response.
And dictators hate what they can't control.
The party had no particular purpose, except it was an act of small rebellion against the ever-too-imposing government.
And so Nathan gingerly placed the book that inspired him to be more than who he was back into its place on the shelf. He took in this small box of a room, feeling confined, feeling like he needed to break free, perhaps even do something drastic.
*****
"This is drastic," said Autumn. "It will give us away. You're inviting destruction."
"You sound like my aunt," said Nathan.
She put her hands on her hips. "Not fair."
Under the beam of light coming in through the trees, Autumn looked nothing like his aunt, and her appearance took Nathan's breath away. She was a year his younger. With striking green eyes. And the demeanor of a full-grown woman.
To Nathan, her opinion mattered the most to him.
But he needed to do this.
He felt like he had no choice.
"I'm just tired of living under their control," he said.
"Your aunt and uncle's or the government's?" she asked.
"All of them. You're the only person who doesn't try to control me."
"Well I do try," she said. "You just don't listen."
He smiled. "But you love me anyway."
"Who said anything about love?" she said. "I barely can stand you."
But a smile broke past the face she tried to hold rigid.
The birds chirped from the trees. The sun was warm. And somehow, as it often was when he was with Autumn, the troubles of the world seemed to melt into oblivion.
Their wretched town disappeared—the town where the homes were so closely grouped that he always felt crushed. The town that literally smelled—other than this refuge in the forest.
This small place they'd found for themselves.
Surrounded by trees and rocks and even small creeks, this was their getaway.
The only place that felt right and true.
And Nathan wanted nothing more in this moment than to kiss Autumn.
But he was frozen in place.
"What is it?" she finally asked.
Which broke him out of his stupor.
"Nothing, nothing."
Inside, he goaded himself for lacking the courage to kiss her.
She was the vision, standing right before him.
She was his destiny.
He knew that more than he knew anything.
But he was a coward.
Finally he said, "I'm doing it, Autumn. And it's going to be great."
*****
When the darkness fell, Nathan had the items in place. He'd taken great care wiring them to their respective fuses.
And the party had begun.
There were twenty of them, mostly teenagers or in their early twenties.
They'd acquired alcohol.
And met at a place in the forest.
The moons were bright tonight.
And they stood around the bonfire, making jokes and hanging out and otherwise committing this treacherous act of rebellion.
Everyone wore smiles.
Except for Autumn.
Her hands were once again on her hips.
"I don't like when you stand like that and face me," said Nathan. "It scares me."
"You're impetuous," she said.
He paused. "I don't even know what that means."
"You jump into things without thinking."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, unspooling the wire to its limit. "I never think in the first place," he added with a wink.
And her hands dropped to her sides, finally.
She smiled.
"Help me light these."
And they proceeded to light the fireworks. It had taken Nathan three years to collect this many fireworks. Fireworks were outlawed to the greatest extent and punishable by death.
Nathan didn't care.
The odds that Authority soldiers were patrolling this out-of-the-way town was minimal.
And so they lit the ends of every firework.
The first one rocketed into the sky, past the tall pines, higher and higher, and then.
CRACK!
Exploded in a flurry of noise synchronized to color—bright visuals which lit up the land, fell down past the trees, crashed over them in the best of ways.
Now everyone's heads were turned upwards.
And the next firework burst—red.
And the next.
Neon lit up the sky.
Crackling, burning, fading, creating that leftover smoke that glowed in the light of the next burst of light. The sound, the smell, the laughter—it was everything.
Nathan and Autumn smiled at each other.
Then, somehow, inexplicably, before even the last firework exploded, Authority soldiers descended upon the party.
Guns raised, the soldiers blazed in through the trees, surrounding the small get-together.
"Who launched the fireworks?" one of the soldiers yelled with a profoundly deep voice, gun raised.
Two people pointed.
The men found Nathan and Autumn with the fuses.
A final firework exploded, flashing light over them.
Rushing towards Nathan and Autumn, the men shouted.
The shouts were muted in Nathan's mind.
He watched in slow motion as they picked up Autumn.
And before he could do anything a soldier came from behind him, putting him in a headlock. He couldn't scream. Couldn't move. And within a few seconds, he lost consciousness.