The rain had let up a little as we reached the back of the apartment complex, forming small puddles in the asphalt road around us.

By now I was sneezing and coughing so much that my nose and throat burned. Rufus fumbled with a key in his pocket as he pushed open the door, causing it to swing open; the cigarette smell a bit stronger. The warmth and yellow light inside spilled on the wet concrete pavement, right by a small pink bicycle with red and white streamers and the ends of the handlebars.

I stood there for a moment, observing it, before slipping my arm away from him as he stepped inside, leaning against the decayed wood surrounding the doorframe for support. Quick, rapid footsteps caught my attention as a little girl came running down the small hallway, clutching a doll in her hand. Her thick blond plaits bounced in the air. She wore a pink nightgown with flower prints all over them, and her legs were wirey and knobby.

“Daddy!”

Rufus chuckled as he scooped her up and spun her around, causing her to burst out with laughter. “Hello, princess. Did you have a good day?”

”Yeah!”

”What did you do today?”

The child’s eyes were wide with excitement; her cheeks apple red as she began to speak at lightning fast speed. “Mommy and I made chicken noodle soup! Come see! Please? And I cut the vegetables just the way she showed me, so they aren’t big and lumpy like last time. I know how to use the knife now. I can do it really fast, too!”

“I see,” he replied, planting a kiss on her face, holding her tightly. “I’m quite proud of you.”

When the girl’s eyes settled on me, I took a step backwards in the darkness, wanting to hide my face. Before Rufus could say anything, she slid out of her father’s arms and walked towards me. To my surprise, her little hands grasped my left arm, pulling me inside. Water dripped from my clothes and landed in a puddle forming around me on the floor. When she smiled up at me, I noticed two of her front teeth were missing, her hair sticking up in the air as she reached behind me and shut the door.

I avoided her gaze.

“Rufus?” A woman’s voice echoed down the hallway, followed by the sound of clattering pots. “Is that you?”

“Yes, Jane,” he hollered back. “I’m home.”

“Hi, mister,” the girl exclaimed, waving at me.

I looked down at her sweet face quietly, my heart aching. My breaths were unstable and choppy.

Mary glanced at her father. “Is he shy, Daddy?”

Rufus tried to change the subject. “Honey, why don’t—“

With one hand she tugged at the hem of my soaked shirt as she squinted up at me, completely ignoring his words. “Are you one of Daddy’s friends? Do you want to try my soup? Me and Mommy cooked it. Please? Please? This is my second time making soup. The first time I burnt it and it stuck at the bottom of the pot. I was sad for a whole week because I broke Mommy’s favorite pot. I didn’t destroy this one this time, so you won’t find burnt pieces in your soup. It doesn’t taste bad when it’s burnt. Do you like the black spots in yours?”

It took everything I had to fight the urge to break down; my hands were so clammy and sweaty.

“Mary,” Rufus said in a low voice. “Your manners.”

The child glanced back at him. “Daddy, I don’t think he can talk. He’s taller than you, do you think he could beat you at arm wrestling? And why is his hair so red? Did he dump ketchup all over it? Is he allowed to shave his head? Grandma said once that it was a sin to cut the hair of a redhead—“

Rufus cleared his throat as he gently placed both hands on his daughter’s shoulders, speaking in a low voice. “Sweetie, how about you get me some clean sheets and blankets from the closet, alright, so you can help Mommy set it on the couch tonight? We’ll talk a little bit later about what we are supposed to say when we meet new people.” With one hand, he slightly urged Mary up the steps, who kept looking back at me. Once she was out of sight, he took a deep breath.

I stared at the floor for a moment, my heart pounding. At the corner of my eye, I could see her peek from behind the wall, a few wisps of her blond hair sticking out in the air. A giggle escaped from her mouth as she ran into a room and slammed a door. Her father sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “She knows better, she just speaks whatever comes to her mind.”

“No, it’s okay. She did nothing wrong, don’t be hard on her. You don’t have to apologize. I didn’t expect...I thought she would react differently, you know...”

He gave me a confused look, before his eyes widened up. “Oh, no. Mary is alright.”

”Are you sure?” I asked in a shaky voice.

To my surprise, he clamped a warm hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want you to keep worrying about that night. We’re all managing just fine. Please don’t burden yourself anymore; there are plenty of things that I need to discuss with you. It’s not as important. You just need a good bowl of soup. Something nourishing.”

”Tell me, please. I need to know the truth.”

”Well...” he hesitated. “She hasn’t forgotten, for sure. Sometimes she asks if you will come back and hurt me again. I always reassure her that it’s going to be alright, that I will never leave her. She gets nightmares occasionally, but, it hasn’t been as bad as it had been before, when she was screaming and crying in the middle of the night.”

“Screaming?” I whispered.

Rufus’ voice became more gentle as he leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “That was the hardest to deal with, especially when she would run out of the house into the street in her sleep. I would catch her in my arms and hold her. It calms her down. She usually stops shouting then.”

I yanked at my ear so hard it turned red.

“Adlai, you need to understand that I am responsible for it entirely. Don’t take this to heart. I could only imagine how you were feeling when I did that to Margaret. If I had been more proactive about handling things—“

”No.” I tugged at the ends of my sleeves. “It’s not your fault, it’s both mine and Karin’s. I saw all the letters he saved in his office. Covered in dust and crumpled up like nothing. I had no right to do this to her.”

There was a heavy thumping noise as Mary ran down the stairs, jumping down three at a time. Blankets were bunched up in her arms as she took off in the next room, singing loudly to herself. The doll was on the floor, one of its eyes closed shut. I rested my elbow against the wall and buried my face in my arm, turning away from him. The plaster felt cool against my forehead.

”I broke her,” I whispered. “I destroyed her.”

”Adlai. Hey, look at me, bud.”

I closed my eyes.

”I did this,” Rufus said quietly, giving my back a light pat. “It’s not your fault, given the circumstances you were thrust in because of me, because of the decisions I decided to make. Forgive yourself. Please. Please don’t let this consume you. I already have, and she’s still healing. So are you. We all are. It’s a good thing she does not recognize you, and I will tell her when she’s a little older. It’s going to take time, but she’s okay. You need to stop tormenting yourself.”

I didn’t reply, just focused on a piece of lint sitting at the very top step.

Rufus sighed and placed his wet jacket on a worn coat rack. “Mary gets a little nervous that I won’t come home after that incident occurred, but I try to help teach her tactics for her to manage her anxiety. I want her to be able to learn how to take care of herself, since I won’t always be around when she feels that way. It’s a lesson that every child must learn.”

”Yes, but...”

”You are not the direct cause of it,” he replied. “I didn’t bring you here to blame you about anything. She has always been an anxious child. I know that it will help her later on.”

I didn’t say anything as his wife stepped into the hallway. Her face was pink and covered with perspiration, and the clothes she wore were faded and worn like the walls of the apartment. She had the same, wild frizzy hair like her daughter. In her left palm she clutched a large spoon, and a warm aroma drifted through the air, causing my stomach to rumble. Rufus gently pulled her into an embrace and buried his head against her shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment. The woman looked at me with great curiosity.

“Babe,” she asked quietly. “Who is this?”

* * * * * *

I couldn’t really taste the soup or bread.

Probably because I was shoveling it so fast in my mouth, or because my sense of smell was completely gone. All self restraint I had over myself dwindled away. The two of them had disappeared into the kitchen, talking in hushed tones so I could not make out a word what they were saying. They had my bad leg propped up on a nearby chair with my muddy jeans rolled up and my shoe off, my bare foot red and puffy.

And I could not stop eating.

The whole half chunk of bread was gone by the time they came back to the small table, where I was chomping it down like a madman, licking the crumbs off my fingers. I tried to save some for later, but my stomach had other plans, and I only felt worse when I thought about the others back at the fort who had almost nothing. Jane continued to stare at me from time to time, but I tried to ignore it. I wasn’t going to be here long, perhaps gone by early tomorrow morning, which would hopefully ease her discomfort around me.

It was after she finally bound my leg in large white cast and created a splint for it did the pain start to subside. I couldn’t remember the last time I had even seen a couch, which was a welcome change from sleeping in cardboard boxes out in the rain. My cold had gotten worse to the point now that my entire body felt fatigued from the coughing and the chills that racked my lungs. I tried to tell Rufus that I needed to get back to Selva before Plank and his men did away with me, but my eyes were so heavy that they were impossible to keep open. The blankets were soft, warm, and clean.

And the darkness that consumed me was even better.

* * * * *

The thick layer of crust that surrounded my eyelids when I opened them peeled off after I blinked several times. A dark spot of saliva marked a spot on the pillow my head was resting on, and there was a crink in my neck when I struggled to sit up. My bare chest and most of my left shoulder was exposed, the worn collar of my oversized flannel shirt having slipped to the side. My nose was slightly stuffy, although the cough still lingered. The noon day sun was halfway in the sky, and three gunshots rang out in the air.

I gritted my teeth as I slowly rolled off the couch and hobbled to the cracked window, before crouching down low once I heard the shouts of two soldiers dragging a woman out of her apartment. Right by the doorway, in a giant puddle of blood, laid two men who wore the uniforms from the labor camp. The woman screamed, swung, and bit as they tied the rope around her neck and made her stand on a wooden crate underneath a tree branch. When they kicked it from beneath her feet, I had to turn my head away.

After catching my breath for a moment I stumbled out in the hallway, leaning forward and resting both of my hands against the wall, trying my best not to puke. I had no reason to be here, where they would slaughter Rufus and his family without mercy. There seemed to be no one around, and as I stepped towards the door, a high voice nearly made me jump, in the mix of gunfire.

“Where you going, mister?”

I turned my head to the side. Mary was sitting right by the table, stringing beads onto frayed colorful strings, humming to herself. Her doll was placed right next to a plastic container full of them, which was covered with stickers. Resting on her ears were two very large headphones, although they weren’t connected to anything. Her bright blue eyes studied me, and I let my hand drop to my side as she slid off her chair and took a few steps towards me.

“Mommy and Daddy told me to be extra quiet when I was down here, because you were sleeping.” She gave me a relieved grin, before making a sputtering noise with her mouth. “I thought you were dead, because you hardly moved at all. How do you do that? Don’t your arms and legs get sore? Daddy gets cramps all the time whenever he sleeps.”

The girl was the spitten image of her father, having the same chin and nose as him. It was like I was looking at him right in the face. I wanted to punch myself for being the main cause of her anxiety. I wanted to know how much she remembered from that night when she had heard the gunshots and found her father bleeding by my feet. And more than anything, I wanted to tell her how, if I could, I would do whatever I could to take back what I did. I wondered if she had flashbacks from it all, and how much could a seven year old understand from the sickness of adults like me?

I came closer to her, my chest aching.

Mary continued to smile up at me. “I’m glad you’re not dead. I’ve seen many dead people on the streets, even though Daddy tells me not to look. Mommy told me the reason that you wouldn’t talk is because you were very, very tired. She’s upstairs right now, sewing. I wanted to go to school, but there’s too much shooting going around, so Mommy said I can make bracelets and necklaces for when I see my friends again.” With one hand, she slid a homemade bracelet on her wrist and adjusted the headphones on her ears. “I miss them.”

Slowly, I knelt down to her level, ignoring the sharp pain that coursed through my broken leg, trying my best to hold back the dam that was threatening to break any moment. The girl reached for a long string that dragged out onto the torn carpet. She began to twist it, forming loops between her fingers.

“I’m not allowed to play outside or look out the windows during the daytime,” she said. “It’s scary. Daddy always tells me to keep the blinds down and to put my headphones on, so I won’t hear any of it. Sometimes I hear the shootings at night, too, so I sleep in my parents’ room, since I know I’m safe with them. What’s your favorite color, mister? Mine’s pink. But I think blue would look good on you. Do you want a bracelet?”

I looked down and closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the water seep through my eyelids. When I opened them again, Mary had already finished threading the string and was tying it around my wrist, the course texture feeling rough against my skin. She smiled at me as she finished securing the knot, the shiny colorful plastic beads reflecting in the light.

”Pretty!” she giggled, clasping her hands together.

”You made this for me?”

A hopeful look appeared in Mary’s eyes.

“Thank..thank you so much. I really like it.” When I managed to get the words out, my voice cracked. “Your father is a good man. And I know that you may not understand yet since you’re too young, but...I...I am so sorry for what you had to see that night with your father and...and the soldier. I know you’re going through a lot right now, but it’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. Know why? Because you’re strong and brave.”

“Me?” she asked, her eyes widening.

“Yes, absolutely. And you must never let anyone tear you down. You are getting stronger everyday, and the nightmares will stop. But there may be a scar still, which will take longer to go away.” Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as I reached out and gave her hand a warm squeeze. “I hope you may find it in your heart to forgive the man in the uniform who gave you that ugly scar one day, when your father decides it’s the right time to explain. That..that the soldier, he’s gone. He’s never coming back to hurt him.”

“How do you know he won’t come back?”

”Because....because...” I ignored the water building up in my eyes. “Because he'll never do something like that again."

Mary stuck her thumb in her mouth. "Never."

"He's really sorry," I whispered, a tear slipping down my face. "He feels awful because he scared you and hurt your father. Whenever you have a nightmare, just remember that everything's going to be okay. That you have people who love you so very much, and that you are strong."

“Do you get nightmares about soldiers, too?” she whimpered. “That soldier was big and tall. Bigger than Daddy. He looked really mad, and he had a bloody knife in his hand. His eyes were full of fire. I see it sometimes in my dreams...where he’s screaming as he stabs Daddy. Over and over again. I try to stop him, but I can’t move.”

I had to pause for a moment, trying to make her out through my tear stained vision, fighting back a rising sob. It was impossible to look her in the eyes. "I....I know things may be confusing and difficult right now. But it'll be okay. It’ll be okay, I promise. Your father will help you through this. Make sure you listen to him, alright? He knows what’s best for you. So when those nightmares come, you will know exactly what to do."

The confusion on her face made my stomach wrench, but I slowly rose to my feet and rubbed at my eyes as I heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. A wide smile broke across Jane’s face as she reached the bottom and took off her glasses, which left a mark around her eyes. Mary ran into her arms as soon as she spotted her.

“Look, Mommy, look! I made our guest a bracelet. And guess what, he can talk! He can actually talk!”

Her mother frowned as she looked down at the little girl, running a hand through her blond pigtails. “Did you wake him up?”

“No, no, no,” I broke in quickly, hoping she wouldn’t notice how red my eyes looked. “It’s alright. I’m so grateful for all the kindness you have shown me, but I have to go. I simply can’t stay anymore.”

Jane studied me for a moment. “You were quite exhausted, being in a coma for three days straight. Rufus stepped out for a moment to buy more water. Perhaps it was the aspirin I gave you, but I never thought that it would knock you out for that long.”

“Three....” I struggled to make sense of her words. “Three days?! I could’ve sworn I’ve only arrived yesterday. I’ve wasted so much time...I...I planned to discuss some very important things to Rufus. How is that even possible?” I began to hobble towards the door. “I’m so grateful for everything ma’am, I must go. I don’t know where Rufus is, but you need to let him know that I can’t stay any longer.”

Mary looked up at me. “Will you come back?”

I couldn’t respond. It felt wrong to even think of returning, to take advantage of his family. Fortunately, I did not have to answer that question, because Jane immediately rushed to the kitchen and flung though the drawers and beaten down cabinets, rummaging through the several papers. She mumbled to herself underneath her breath. Mary followed close behind her heels. I rested one hand against the wall, trying to stop the world from spinning.

The woman pulled out a wrinkled yellow folder and flipped it open, placing it on the wooden table, causing the plastic beads to rattle and fall to the carpet. Before I could say anything, she shoved the papers in my hands, along with a plastic bag full of bread, a few knobby apples, and some canned beans, and three large water bottles. Her dark eyes were narrowed with determination. Mary stuck her thumb in her mouth.

“Rufus wanted you to have these. Don’t look at them until you’re far away from here, sweetheart. You don’t want to take the chance of a soldier finding them. Your best chance to leave the city is around midnight. That’s when they bring new Khonie in, so it should be a distraction.”

I wanted to say something, to explain everything to them, but there was not enough time. As I stepped out into the hot sun for the first time in days, I could feel their eyes on me, piercing my back as Jane scooped Mary in her arms and showered her with kisses, causing her to squeal with delight.

And I did not have the strength to look back.

* * * * *

The map of I had of Portia was faded and torn, and I moved slowly past the endless lines of people and Khonie alike, avoiding the large tents that were infested with soldiers that swarmed around hundreds of stacks of packaged water bottles, along with giant tanks that roamed the destroyed streets. Every face, scarred and unscarred, was covered in sweat and dirt. I felt bad for leaving without letting Rufus know after all he had done for me, but there was no turning back now. The itch to unfold the papers and take a peek was getting to be unbearable, but I forced myself to focus on what I had to do.

Getting help by myself wasn’t going to work.

What can four people do to protect and help twelve injured ones? What am I supposed to do on hot days, when I have no water to defend our camp, and that any soldier can just waltz their way through? I can’t even protect them well on a rainy day, since my migraines would be the end of me. And how am I supposed to do that without others being suspicious of who I am?

The more steps I took, the smaller sips of water I took from one of my precious water bottles to make sure to keep myself from passing out. As it grew darker, I squinted to see the map in the dying light. The very first water plant I had destroyed was only five miles away. It had seem like ages ago when I had gone down there with General Andrew only half a year ago and my mouth went sour at the memory. Now the pipes were rusted and decayed.

Something wet landed on my shoulder, followed by more drops of rain. Crowds of civilians pushed past each other, leaving their containers out past their doorsteps in order to collect some of the rainwater for the night. Carefully, I tucked the map in the bag I had and sealed it carefully so it would not receive anymore water damage. The scent of roast chicken caught my nose as I slid behind a withered tree and peered through the branches.

The flag of the Red Mamba blew in the wind as a heavy tank rolled by, leaving its tracks in the mud. The soldiers sitting on the edges were silent and focused, as their legs dangled on the side. I remembered those days; the wave of panic that engulfed my throat when I saw the dirt fly in clouds around the helmets of the guys in my platoon. Not too far was a small wooden shed by the dozens of makeshift shelters on enemy territory. The double door were secured by one large metal lock, but I knew what contents it held inside.

Weapons.

I had figured that was what Operation Greene was really all about, so the Mardren could gain just a little bit more control and power. No doubt they had their boys who were being held captive there, but the real reason seemed so obvious. And all the things that they had gotten before had not been easy to do so before I had arrived. As my fingers gripped against the damp bark of the tree. I took a deep breath as I dropped what meager possessions I had left into the mud.

My bare feet sank into the damp grass as I took two steps towards the tank, whispering the name of my best friend to myself, that I would do anything for her, that to just hang on for a little moment longer; that more than anything, I wished she was by my side.

Focus. Breathe. Do not think about exposure. Let them come.

The darkness was my ally. It melted around me, covering my shame and filth from the soldiers. The tank was still there; the barrel dripping with rainwater. There was a loud cracking sound as ice shards began to rise up high in the sky, their edges like daggers. I felt the cold wind rush through me, and a smile curled upon my lips as I thrust both of my hands towards the tank, the pain starting to settle in my head, causing giant holes to form on the surface of the machine.

The agonizing screams of the men filled my ears as I took several steps forward, their bones snapping like music to my ears. When I exhaled, an icy mist escaped from my mouth as the rain around me fell harder on the frozen mud. As the gunshots begin to sound, the liquid swirled and gurgled around me, so that I was surrounded by a large transparent dome. Bubbles flowed from my hair, and the pain in my head was so intense that for a moment, I wanted to stop, but I knew I couldn’t. The plastic beads dangled from the bracelet on my wrist, knocking against each other on the string.

A flash of lightning forked the sky.

Warm blood spilled from my nose and mouth as I delivered another heavy blast to a group of soldiers running for cover, the metallic taste lingering in my mouth. The throbbing in my temples grew stronger, but I kept going, my heart pounding against my chest; my ears ringing. Ice spread from my bare feet and shot outwards, and beads of perspiration mixed in with the rain on my face as I took one step at a time. The world was fuzzy, but the shed was still there, nearby the dark pools of blood and decapitated heads. The ground was slick with the soggy weeds as thunder rumbled in the distance.

My fingertips brushed against the lock.