It was December when I finally got back home. Physical therapy was taking longer than they thought but I was making excellent signs of progress. My injuries were healing well and the doctors told me that there would be no lasting effects from them.

The last few weeks had been stressful to me in everything outside of my recovery. My reveal to the French Government of attempted arrest had given the media plenty to work with.

They found out my address and contact info quickly. For weeks my mother and I received a barrage of emails and calls. Everyone from media interview requests to zone denier nutjobs was trying to talk to me.

Stories from and interviews with people who claimed to know me we all over the place. In reality, they were passing acquittances. They got something right but mostly wrong. With Alexander’s help, I had set up a screening wall around our home to reduce the electronic avalanche. It had a physical component to stop people.

I thought I had finally gotten through to my mother that getting the media to present our story in such a way that I could pressure the government to release my contract was a bad idea.

So, imagine my surprise s I was driving home with Gregson when a call came to my phone from an unhappy Alexander that my mother was doing one such interview. I told him of course I had no idea such an interview was happening and would take care of it.

I got home and moved as quickly to my door as possible as I was still not in good condition with Gregson close behind. In those first few weeks, the house was under siege but most of that was gone now.

I entered my home and headed to the living room where I could hear voices.

In the room, my mother was sitting in her chair talking to a woman with another operating a camera setup on a tripod. Everyone turn surprised as I entered the room. I recognised the reporter as Alison McDonald. Before anyone could speak, I began.

“Out!” I said to the two women. The tone in my voice was clear of my feelings.

“Operative Harrington…… can we please have an interview on……” Alison quickly recovered.

“OUT!” The tone in my voice was clear on my feelings were clear on the request. My anger was rising. Gregson quickly realised how this could go and interceded.

“You heard him ladies you are no longer welcome it’s time to leave.” He managed to get them out all the while Alison was alternating between protests and attempts to get an interview. My mother was stunned by the turn of events.

Gregson got them out of the house as was most likely they were going down the driveway.

These few minutes’ pauses allowed my mother to recover.

“John! How dare you do that they were my guests and I was helping……” Her tirade began. I cut it off.

“Be quiet!” I demanded loudly. This broke her flow but she recovered.

“Do. Not. Tell. Me to be quiet. I am your mother.……” she raised herself from her chair

“QUIET!” I stormed across the short distance and yelled in her face.

This shocked her back into sitting.

“How. God. Damn. Stupid, are you?” My anger was surging through my chest driving my words. “You were told NO interviews!”

“I did it to help. To try to get you….” She came back at me. But again, I cut her off.

“Help! Help! You are not helping the contract I have with the Government is the best I could have hoped for!” This was an old argument that I was tired of.

“I am trying to support…….”

“Support Me! Fuck’s sake woman you are one of my biggest problems! It’s getting to the point that it is less stressful dealing with zones than YOU!” My anger would no longer allow me to hold back. “If we did not have that contract there is a good chance that Zone Operatives would have been conscripted because the Government was panicking so badly.”

She has never seen me like this. She shrinks deeper into the chair. I was looming.

“I would have refused and would be in jail right now!”

“But………” Emotions crossed her face too fast for me to register.

“No! Fucking! Buts! You need to get your head in the game. Stop nagging me about being an Operative. Stop trying to Help! You’re Not!” My chest was heaving and my blood was pounding in my ears. “You are causing more problems that I don’t need!”

I struggled to control my temper after this outburst.

“Then maybe you should leave!” She cried back.

My anger was still raging but my mind became strangle focused like I was in combat.

“Maybe I should.” I said eerily calm.

That shocked her the most. She began panicking knowing something had just changed not understanding what.

“John. I am sorry if just I cannot lose you like the girls!” She began crying. “What you do is so dangerous just look at your injuries!”

She might be expecting me to cave and comfort her. But not now. It had gone too far.

“All you are doing is driving me away.” This calmness was strange even to me.

It was clear that she did not know what to do or say. She just cried softly. I just looked at her for several seconds and then turned walking away.

“Please don’t leave.” Came the sob from behind me. I looked back.

“Then stop interfering. Stop being a problem.” I said ending the argument. I headed upstairs. Leaving her crying.

## ## ## ## ##

In my bedroom, I was still angry but it was slowly fading. I realised that in that argument I had heard echoes of my father in my attacks on my mother. That depressed me the most out of what happened.

I lay back on my bed pain radiating from a few injuries.

I texted Gregson and Alexander telling them the situation with my mother was resolved. Gregson was first to respond saying he was still outside. I said that I was fine and will let him know if I needed anything.

Alexander came back thanking me and told me the Government was dealing with the fallout of what was said before the interview was terminated. Turns out it was going outlive.

I had not bothered to switch on the media feeds as I normally did. I had avoided them a lot for the last few weeks.

Laying there looking at the ceiling I went over the last six weeks of madness. The arrest warrant the French had issued had caused one a hell of a political storm. Relations between the British and French Governments were the lowest they had been for God knows how long.

The warrant was tied up in legal challenges and Interpol had announced that they would not seek to implement it until the matter was resolved. It turns out that due to the semi-civilian/military status of British Operatives the ICC might need to issue the warrant.

The EU and Euro Corp’s command were unofficially pissed at the French I had found out. The British Government had told them that they were unofficially suspending co-operating until the French were rained in. The ghoul virus medication research was sorely needed by all nations.

I had been interviewed a dozen times by UKZC and Government lawyers to make sure my story stood up. The confirmation by Euro Corp’s investigators of my story was the final hurdle. They did this after they had sealed the breach and eliminated the ghouls.

It was believed that a group of zone deniers broke into the zone extremely early in the morning. They were killed and this caused the zones rapid expansion. This was further fed by the local population being caught and many killed.

I also found out unofficially that Euro Corp was interested in a further debrief and possible additional actions on the continent. They had also recommended a training program that would assign an EU Operative to shadow me on operations.

I was not enthused by this idea.

The Government had also told the media to point-blank at my request to stop interview requests as I was not interested. This was after they had sent a media trainer and handler to get me for a number of events they were planning. Alexander was told in no uncertain terms what he and the rest of the Government could do with that idea.

It still brought a smile to my face.

“John?”

“Yes.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

She opened the door but remained in the doorway.

“I am sorry for the interview. But I could not see any other way of getting you out of the zones.” She began. “With all the zone closures recently, I thought we could pressure the Government into releasing your contract. You know because things are mostly going well.”

“What made me think that?” I asked sitting up.

“Well of the reports of zone closures off course.” She said confidently.

“You are wrong.” I sighed.

“What do you mean?” She was becoming hesitant.

“We are not winning mom.” I spoke. She was growing confused so I continued. “The Government is reporting closures but not reporting all the new openings.”

She stopped to mull that over so I went on.

“The number of zones nationally let alone worldwide is more than the Operatives can contain. We are just holding the line in this country and we are one of the better ones. There are just too few of us to go around closing all the zones.”

It was clear that this information was new to her and she did not believe it.

“But why? The Government should be telling us! How do you know?” She said indignantly.

“I listen, watch and read between what they are saying. I read the maps of the counties that I am sent.” I tapped my head. “Remember I am terrible at names but good with other types of information.”

She looked at me knowing this to be true.

“You ask why?” I smile sadly. “Remember the first six months after the zones appeared?”

She nods.

“Alright. Imagine that as a good day in the chaos that will erupt.”

“Surely people can see what’s happening?” She asks.

“Many do in their way. They chose to ignore it for as long as they can. Because the truth is far worse.”

“Head in the sand.” She mutters.

“Exactly.” I speak to her in a calm tone but was sad throughout this whole conversation. My anger has left me for now.

“I can’t believe it!” She says this but I think she does.

“So now you understand the scale of the problems in front of me. I cannot leave the zone command. I can only do as little as I can in good conscience.”

She looks at me and nods.

“I will leave you alone and stop nagging.”

“Thank you. I will try to always come home. But you must understand that one day it is very possible that I will not.”

Her eyes begin to glisten with tears again but she holds them in. She understands now what I have been trying to tell her for the last few years after I figured it out. We. Are. Losing.

Hard words to say even in my mind.

All the pain, suffering and loss. It may be for nothing in the end. Hard words indeed.

She turns and leaves to think about what I have said closing my door. I lean back again looking at the ceiling. I think who else knows UKZC and the Government higher-ups for sure. But thinking back over the last year I realise that possibly a lot more are sure rather than thinking it.

The last few years have been hard but I know the future is promising more of the same just slowly getting worse.