Hilde was still snoring when he woke up. Rays of light pierced the thin blanket wall and brightened her face. The bruises were still there. They looked better, but they wouldn’t look good until they were gone. The sight of the wounds didn’t give him the same sinking feeling this morning. He still felt sorry for her when seeing them, but that horrible guilt was finally absent thanks to the mech pilot's encouraging words last night. I’m glad I remember some of last night.

He remembered most of it. At least, he thought he did. There was no telling what small portions might have been lost and what might’ve transpired in those portions, but for the most part, he could piece his night together in a couple of dozen memories throughout the night. There wasn’t a single period of more than half an hour he couldn’t account for with at least some insignificant recalled detail.

August pushed up to his elbow. His vision went blurry as his head started to pound. No surprise. Can’t complain. A groan wasn’t a complaint, so he allowed himself to do many as he got to his feet. He debated waking Hilde, but she looked so peaceful beneath the blanket. He made for the barn door with a palm glued to his beating brow.

Each of the other mattresses were vacant, and the blankets were done up on them as if they’d never been used. Either he and Hilde had had the barn to themselves all night, or they’d been the first to bed and last to wake.

He opened the door and walked out to a pleasant morning breeze. He stood there for a bit as the cool air did wonders for his headache. After a quick combination of light stretches, August wandered groggily toward the picnic tables, where a few squadmates sat in conversation.

He sat across from Belmont, who had a table to herself. The medic was deep in thought, studying two leaves that looked identical to August’s untrained eye. She glanced up at him as he sat and gave him a wide, knowing grin before returning her attention to the leaves. She didn’t look any worse for the wear, and her local’s clothes were still in fine condition compared to the others who’d gotten them stained, ripped, or just generally dirty.

They sat in comfortable silence as the morning ran on around them. Sterling and West sat at a nearby table and conversed in low indistinct voices. Many townsfolk were already out in the fields or at the coops plucking eggs or feeding animals. There were no songs sung that morning. The average face appeared as groggy and foggy as August felt. We all have that in common, I guess.

“Anyway,” Sterling said, loud enough for August and others to hear. “You get lucky last night?”

“Nope,” West said, still using the quiet voice from before.

“You didn’t?” Sterling chuckled. “Dalton West failed to get lucky. What does that mean? You only slept with three of those girls who were after you all night?”

“I didn’t touch any of them,” West said. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Why not?”

“You see how young they were?”

“Yeah. What’s your point?”

West let out a long sigh. “I’m past that point in my life, man. It’s about time, really. That point of my life lasted way longer than it should have.”

“Well, boo hoo,” Sterling said sarcastically. “I wish I had a stage like that in my life. You talk about pretty girls the way I talk about cigarettes. I got addicted to the wrong thing, that’s for sure.”

August turned to look at them. He was still feeling angry at Dalton West after Hilde’s story. Beth stood behind the old movie star, bent over, and kissed him on the cheek. He turned red. “You’ll consider what we talked about, right?”

West looked at her. “Nope. I don’t have to consider anything.”

Her face sagged.

“I’ve already decided to do it.”

She lightened up again. “Oh, you mean it?”

West nodded. She hugged him and kissed his cheek again, reddening him further. Beth left and joined a younger woman throwing handfuls of grain to a hungry flock of chickens.

“What was that all about?” Sterling asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dalton said.

“Looks like I’m the only one who didn’t get any, after all.” Sterling coughed and spat. “You got with the freaking mayor or whatever. That one guy with the broken tooth got Belmont. The kid got Rosek. That leaves only me and the general. The difference is, I actually tried to get some. Dammit.”

August and Belmont locked eyes after Sterling's string of complaints. She simply shrugged as if she were being judged and brought one of her leaves up for a sniff. She grimaced afterward. August got up and joined the men at their table. “What do you mean, the kid and Rosek?”

“There he is!” Sterling half got up and gave August a friendly punch on the arm.

West watched with a grin. “How in Hel did you manage that one, kid? Impressive work.”

August’s first instinct was to kick the grin off the old sniper’s face, but he kept his cool for Hilde. She’d been very clear about not wanting anything to come of sharing her story. He lowered his eyes and took a calming breath as the pounding in his head increased. “Nothing like that happened.”

“Bullshit,” Sterling said.

“I’m serious,” August said. “It almost did. We decided not to. That’s all there is to it.”

Sterling laughed. “I’m sure that was a mutual decision.”

West joined in on the laughter. August was fuming inside. Not because of their jokes, but because of West. He wasn’t sure how to manage the rest of the mission, knowing what he knew about the colonel.

“So, where’s the general?” August asked, trying anything to change the subject and to keep his cool. “Still asleep somewhere?”

“I don’t think he’s slept yet,” West said. “He’s been inspecting the perimeter with Farscout and a few others since before the sun came up. Should be back soon. He’s probably giving them pointers on how to better defend the place. That damn general. Maybe one day I’ll be as noble and thoughtful as him.”

“I doubt it,” Sterling chuckled.

West raised his mug of water in cheers and drained it. His eyes widened, and he slammed his mug down onto the table. “There she is!”

August jumped at the sudden excitement and turned to find Rosek sauntering toward their table like a zombie. Her clothes were filthy and disheveled, just like her hair. The bruises looked more like dirt from this distance, and her posture looked crushed as if she’d spent the last night moving heavy furniture.

“Shut up, movie man,” she said with a hoarse voice. She took a seat beside August and glued herself against him. She held her head in pain and expelled a groggy grunt.

August locked up, more surprised than anything. He’d expected her to come out and act like their night had never happened, or at least that she’d find him and say something along the lines of ‘no one can know about this or that,’ but here she was, sitting up against him as if they’d been married for ten years and everyone knew it. Maybe he was overthinking it.

“What’s the plan?” August asked, again to break the awkwardness likely only felt by him. “When do you think we’ll be leaving?”

“Don’t know,” West said with perplexed eyes bouncing back and forth between August and Hilde. “I haven’t spoken to Wolf yet, but Beth insists we stay for breakfast.”

Sterling bumped August with an elbow. “Yeah, but don’t get excited. From what I understand, breakfast in these parts is a handful of berries and some herbal tea. They only have one large meal per day. Supper.” He shook his head and looked ahead at nothing. “Savages, if you ask me.”

“Beth told me we could have all the food we want,” West chuckled. “Relax, you glutton.”

“Glutton?” Sterling looked insulted. “I suppose you’ll be having nothing but berries and tea?”

“Hel no,” West said. “You being a glutton doesn’t exempt me from being one.”

“Can we get that breakfast soon?” Hilde asked. “If I have to hear one more word of your nonsense, I’ll puke.”

“Good idea,” Sterling said.

They had a massive breakfast of boiled eggs, chicken sausage, and leftover pie from supper, along with the berries and herbal tea. August sat back with a hand on his gut. He felt like he was going to burst, and now he dreaded the idea of marching through the wilderness hungover and overfed. He wasn’t the only one. Rosek, Sterling, and West looked to be in no better shape. Belmont, still alone at her table, was nimble and light on her feet as she brought her berry pits and eggshells to the compost heap with a beaming smile on her face.

“I don’t care what the general says,” West slapped his gut with enough force to make August wince empathetically. “We ain’t going anywhere until we digest a bit.”

Multiple blasts echoed through the still air. The squad sat upright and donned game faces. Another round of blasts came, similar to the last. It sounded like fireworks. Sterling was the first to his feet. “We better check it out.”

The others agreed, and they were off toward the direction of the sound. Townsfolk abandoned their posts and ran for the nearest shelter, usually a house, but some fled to the inside of smaller barns or chicken coops. This wasn’t the first time they’d heard these blasts. They were accustomed to it. Even the children reacted as if they’d been drilled multiple times before.

They raced past the neighborhood of houses where Beth and her son Alvis joined them. “Gunshots,” Beth said. “That could only mean two things. And neither of them are good.”

“Maybe it’s Pa!” Alvis cried.

“Don’t count on it, Dear,” Beth said.

They reached the large wooden wall and found four men standing on the parapets. Three of them were aiming rifles at the sky, Farscout among them. The other leaned his smoking rifle over his shoulder, as casually as if it were a fishing rod. It was General Wolf.

Wolf waved and gave the “all clear” symbol with his fingers. The squad, Beth, and Alvis climbed up the ladders and joined the men up top.

“What happened, Sir?” West asked.

“Dolo,” Wolf slapped a hand on Farscout’s shoulder. “We took care of them. The boy’s a good shot. Had three of those bastards flying around eyeing town, and Farscout here took care of two on his own. I caught the other one.”

“Yeah, it took me multiple shots per target before they went down,” Farscout said. “General Wolf only needed one shot. Got him right between the eyes.”

Sterling leaned over the wall and peered out over the flat fields. August joined him and saw an area littered with empty husks and some fresh corpses. A small creek flowed by half a mile away, but its water almost glowed where a pile of dolo bodies leaked into it. Rows of wooden spikes were set just outside the wall, but there were no signs that they’d done anything, not that they should be expected to against flying foes.

Beth cursed. “They’re coming way too often now. I’m sick of our children fearing for their lives. I’m sick of our people losing their lives. This is only gonna get worse.”

West took her hand. “It won’t. You have my word. We are going to do everything in our power to get rid of that nest once and for all.”

“Bless you,” she said, staring into his eyes. She looked at the others. “Bless all of you.”

“Don’t bless us so quick,” Sterling said, still overlooking the field of bug corpses. “The nest isn’t torched yet.”