Alex waved goodbye to Shepherd as she stepped out of the truck and closed the door. Shepherd gave her a quick nod and pulled away from the curb. She watched him go and then turned to the entrance of Sam and Al’s. A neon sign with the bar’s name hung above the front door. Old rock and roll music and the hum of dozens of off-duty soldiers came from within. Through the front windows, she spotted people packed into booths, on stools around high tables, and crowded at the bar. Sam and Al’s was the most popular gathering spot in Colorado Springs because of its proximity to Peterson’s main gate.

Dad sure would have something to say if he saw me here.

The front door opened with a blast of music. Three men walked out. One of them, clearly intoxicated, stumbled, tried to recover, and then tripped over his feet. His companions caught him and guided him toward the parking lot. As they passed Alex, the drunken man called out, “Hey!” His voice was loud and slurred. She smelled the alcohol surrounding him like an aura. He continued, “Never seen you here! You leaving? Need a ride?”

“I’m going in,” she said, slightly embarrassed.

“Come on. Real fun’s with us, not in there. You got a boyfriend?” One of the other men elbowed him in the ribs and dragged him away. The third gave her an apologetic smile and followed his two companions. They disappeared among the cars in the parking lot.

Well, this should be interesting.

A knock against one of the windows startled her. She looked and saw Murray leaning over a full booth and gesturing for her to enter the building. The occupants of the booth did not appear amused. Murray waved emphatically and pointed at the door. She went to the entrance.

Murray met her inside. He said something but she couldn’t hear over the commotion. He put his arm around her shoulder and pushed through the crowd. The song blaring from the jukebox ended and a new one began. She recognized the opening chords and then the lyrics that came in a moment later: “There are places I'll remember / All my life, though some have changed / Some forever, not for better / Some have gone and some remain.” One of her father’s favorites.

The crowd opened up near the rear of the bar. Murray guided her to a table in the corner. The members of the team sat around it. Pitchers, glasses, and bottles of beer littered the table along with plates of snack food. “Look who decided to show up!” Murray said.

“Alex!” Wilson called out. “You came!”

The others waved and shouted greetings. Murray pulled out a chair between Park and Williams. Then he went to the booth on the other side of the table and dropped himself down. Alex took her seat.

Park appeared to be the only one still sober. “Nice to see you.”

“You, too. I didn’t think this place would be so… busy.”

“It’s always like this!” Sergeant Paul said. “We almost had to occupy this table by force. A couple of flyboys were hogging it when we got here. Lucky for them, they decided to pop smoke.”

“They took one look at Pops and almost shit their pants!” Specialist O’Brian said.

“Hey!” Paul shouted. “This round’s on me! Alex, what’ll you have?”

“I… I don’t really drink that much.”

“Sure,” Paul said. “But what do you like?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had a drink before,” Wilson said. “I know the mountain’s a dry zone, but…”

Alex shook her head.

“Shit,” Murray said, sounding depressed.

“Well, what kind of teammates would we be if we let this continue?” Paul got to his feet and patted Sergeant Ziegler on the back. “Alex, you stay right here. Zieg and I will return shortly! Trust me, this will be a life-changing event!”

“I can’t wait,” she said skeptically as Paul dragged a confused-looking Ziegler toward the bar.

Alex was unused to the activity, the commotion, the smell of alcohol. It was much different than inside the mountain where the atmosphere was quiet and repressed. The bar, however, was noisy and chaotic. Yet part of her was excited to be here. Her trips outside of the mountain or beyond the perimeter of Peterson or Carson were rare. Even then, those trips were often for formal military events or training exercises. The liveliness in Sam and Al’s was something new and reminded her of the videos and movies of the old cities with streets full of life and movement.

This is what we’re fighting for. This is what Hensley and Neill died to protect. This is what we’re trying to bring back. It’s why we’re better than the NEA.

Park leaned close. “Is Captain Shepherd going to drop by?”

“No. He’s going to come pick me up in about an hour, though.”

“An hour?!” Murray said. “We’ll still be sober! There’s five hours until curfew! No one quits ‘til then!”

Williams and several other members of the team groaned. How long had they been here already? From the number of empty bottles on the table, it must have been quite a while.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, and I have an appointment at the hospital in the morning.”

Murray slumped back and frowned. Wilson put an arm around his shoulder and said, “Sixty minutes is plenty! At least it will be if those two hurry up with the drinks.”

Murray grunted and then picked up a glass of beer and took a swig. When he set the glass down, it was empty. The drink seemed to satisfy him.

“Are you all right?” Park said.

Alex gave him a confused look.

“You said something about the hospital.”

“Doctor Reilly just wants to check to make sure I’m okay.”

“Are you?”

“My side still hurts a bit, but it’s getting better.”

Park smiled. “That’s good to hear.”

“Was your dad here today for the funeral?”

Park took a sip from a glass of water and shook his head. “No,” he said, coldly.

She was taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanor. “Is he… still out west?”

“I don’t know,” Park said without looking at her. “Maybe.”

She could tell the topic made Park uncomfortable. His father, a Marine general from before the outbreaks, had secured most of the Directorate’s territory west of the Rockies. She had attended the ceremony where her father had given him command of the western region. General Park was soft-spoken and enjoyed talking about military history. She recalled listening as he and her father had discussed battles from World War II. She also remembered how there had been an empty chair at the table, the one reserved for his son. After joining the team and meeting Park, she had always wondered why he was a specialist in a line unit instead of an officer at Fort Carson or Peterson.

“About time!” Wilson said. Alex turned and saw Paul and Ziegler maneuvering through the crowd. Their arms were full. When they reached the table, they set everything down. The team members grabbed the drinks. Paul slid a glass full of a bubbly, orange-amber colored liquid in front of Alex before taking his seat. She looked at the drink and smelled it. It reminded her vaguely of cardboard and old leather.

“Bottoms up!” Murray said.

Hesitantly, she picked up the glass, smelled it again, and then put it to her lips and took a gulp. The taste was bitter, and it burned as it went down her throat. She let out a sharp breath as a tremor ran across her shoulders. The team cheered.

How the hell can anyone drink this?

“What do you think?” Wilson said.

She shook her head and put her drink aside.

Murray grinned. “Great, isn’t it? Welcome to the club!”

“Don’t worry,” Park said. “I hate the taste, too. Want me to get you some water?”

“I’m fine. But thanks.”

“Alex,” Williams said, “I’ve got a question.”

“Okay.”

“In New York, seeing you knock those RPGs out of the air and take down that building was incredible. What’s it like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it always looks like you’re concentrating pretty hard. Sometimes you make gestures with your hands. What’s it like when you use your abilities?”

“It’s almost like I’m in a 3D movie. All the parts pop out like a schematic. Like if I focus on a gun, I can see the barrel, the slide, the magazine, the bullets. It’s as if I go inside and everything’s flying around me. Sometimes I can feel everything, too. Small things are easy, but it gets harder with bigger targets.”

“Like that apartment building?” Corporal Fletcher asked.

“That was… it was a lot different than anything I’ve tried before. I could see everything. I saw the rooms, the floors, the pipes, everything. I was everywhere inside at once. I thought I was going to pass out. But then I let go and…”

“And you blew it over like the big bad wolf!” Paul said.

She smiled.

“You know, I always thought those stories about ‘kinetics were BS,” Williams said. “Then you joined us. After seeing you in action, I bet all we’d need to wipe out the NEA is one or two more units like ours.”

“Do you know any other ‘kinetics?” Park said.

“One,” Alex said. “Nicole Serrano.”

“You know Nicole? I mean… Ms. Serrano.” Park sounded excited. “Really?”

“We’re friends. Why?”

“There was a marksmanship competition at Carson about a year ago. We were tied for first right up until the end. The last event was a five round shoot at 1,000 yards. She won. Somehow, she managed 0.2 MOA.”

“MOA?” Alex said.

Williams sighed. “Here we go.”

“Minute of angle,” Park said, ignoring him. “It’s a way to describe accuracy. If you shoot one MOA at 100 yards, you’re putting all of your rounds into a circle an inch in diameter. One MOA at 200 yards is about two inches, and so on. So 0.2 MOA at 1,000 yards means she put all of her rounds into a circle two inches wide. And it only took her thirty seconds.”

“So how well did you do?” Alex said.

Park looked embarrassed. “I only shot 0.4. So a circle four inches wide. It took me fifty-five seconds. Not one of my better days.”

Williams reached behind Alex and hit Park on the shoulder. “We still love you even if you lost to a girl.” He laughed and looked at Alex. “No offense.”

“You don’t know where she is, do you?” Park said. “I saw her at Carson a few months ago, but not since then.”

Before Alex could answer, Fletcher broke in, “You know what he did when he saw her?” Several of the men chuckled. Alex guessed it was a well-known story. Fletcher went on, “He asked her out.”

Park blushed. “It wasn’t like that.”

“And he didn’t ask her out to a party or a dance or even dinner and a movie,” Fletcher continued. “Ben here asked her out to the firing range.”

“What did she say?” Alex asked.

“I don’t think she even remembered me,” Park said in a sullen voice. “She just said she was busy and had to go.”

“Well, I think she would have enjoyed the firing range more than anything else. She said she would be back sometime this month. I can talk to her for you if you want.”

Park quickly shook his head. “No, that’s okay.”

“All right!” Murray shouted. “Enough talking. More drinking!”

“Let’s have a toast!” Wilson said, and the other men cheered. Alex sighed and picked up her drink. She was surprised when Wilson continued, “To Alex! For saving our asses in New York!”

“To Alex!” the team echoed.

She raised her glass. “To Hensley and Neill.” For a moment, she could almost picture the two of them sitting with the rest of the team: Neill, the handsome jock who had occasionally flirted with her, and Hensley, the quiet family man who had always kept a positive attitude. Around the table, the men nodded and murmured their agreement. Alex put the glass to her lips and drank. It was again unpleasant and bitter, but somehow, it went down easier than before. She looked at the clock on the wall: forty-five minutes before Shepherd arrived to pick her up.

So much for that appointment, she thought and took another gulp.