The belly of the earth shook. Like a beast struck against its middle like a spear, it flailed and shuddered uncontrollably until collapsed and drew its last breath. The skulls of the decomposed soldiers who had dared to set foot on our land smiled at me, their teeth gleaming in the light.

There was hardly any grass left; it was dark brown. The rotting carcasses of goats and sheep that had starved to death littered the ground. The sound of the tanks closing in were undeniable. More troops were coming down south, and we all would be captured in a matter of weeks. I knew that Baldwin had finally located us, after tracing the locations of Lockwell's murder and the destruction of several security wards, it was only a matter of time before we all would meet our fate. The people's blood, including Toku and Hagar and Kia and Malcolm's, would soon be in my hands.

I did not sleep for four days, trying to come up with a proposed solution, sitting near a broken stump of wax and smoking cigarette after cigarette which I had fished from the pockets of the corpses of the soldiers lying in a ditch under piles of leaves. I saw how Honda silently watched my shadow from the trees when she thought I didn't notice, her large gray eyes studying me with great concern. It hurt me so to see her in a state of distress; it wasn't good for her and our child. I think the only moments of genuine peace I got were when she finally caved into her exhaustion, and I would cover a thick blanket over her still form.

Then it was back to coming up with a new idea.

Due to the sun not having shone due to the dense layer of smoke that floated in the air, the sky above held a dark, inky black complexion that dripped and stained the ruins of the city close to the villagers. Our vegetable garden had begun to rot, with dark gray spots appearing on the produce. The plants had gotten wilted and began to fall over. With what previous seeds both I was able to muster up from the meager harvest we saved and stored in a cool, dry place so that the rain could not reach them. And most evenings, I made sure to leave baskets of vegetable nearby the small clearing that separated the village from the clearing. Nearly every morning they were gone, and I only knew then that they were running low on food, if not, on the brink of starvation.

To combat the extreme heaviness that overtook my mind; I drank as much water as possible to fill my growling belly. Whenever I managed to catch a hare or a squirrel, I gave it to Honda. She tried to give me the largest chunk of the meat but I refused, insisting that she needed the whole thing far more than me. After some mindless bickering from the both of us, I managed to persuade her that I had eaten before hand, and I only said this so that she would not be so worried. She was crying, shaking her head, but I pulled her into an embrace and murmured, it's alright, it's alright.

But around midnight the hunger was so unbearable that I stumbled down to the flower fields, where Eli was grazing on a patch of weeds. He raised his head; and I stared at him, rooted in the ground. His bones had begun to poke through his skin--and my fingers wrapped around the small knife in my pocket. In a daze, I was coated in warm, thick blood, which was a lot more lighter than Fritz's, all over my clothing and face. I sat still in the grass for a moment, catching my breath barely visible in the cold air, before continue to cut into Eli's flesh with my blade and teeth. He made several bleating noses, but something else was controlling was my limbs. It suddenly became silent besides my shaking breaths.

As I roasted the raw, slimy meat over a small coal pit in the ground, my mouth was salivating over its scent. I didn't look into the goat's lifeless eyes, I just remembered eating and chewing and stuffing the hot meat in my mouth, ignoring how it burned my tongue. With both my hands, I dug a hole in the ground and buried his bones deep under the soft earth. I tried to remind myself to save some for Honda, but I couldn't stop eating. I couldn't. My stomach was so tight, so uncomfortably full. I washed my clothing in the stream and curled up into a ball under a tree, burying my head in my knees.

When I slowly opened my eyes and looked up I felt Honda's hand on my shoulder. My stomach incredibly hurt, like several rocks had formed and weighed it down. It was still dark outside, but raining and cold. I was not sure how much time had gone by. She was shivering, wrapped in a blanket, which she draped around the both of us. Her skin was warm against mine, and she gently kissed my cheek.

"Don't tell me you slept here. I caught a possum," she excitedly signed. "It's a large, fat one too, and it's cooking right now. And I don't want you trying to give me any of it. It's all for you. Come in the cave, where it's warm. You'll freeze out here."

I said nothing, my vision getting blurry.

My beloved scanned the melting flower fields, squinting her eyes. Their colors seemed to bleed into each other, like one of her watercolor paintings. "Where's Eli? I fed him yesterday and let him wander out last night. He usually comes out at this time for his breakfast." She rose to her feet. "That stubborn old boy. Let me fetch him."

As I reached out and held her hand, she turned around in surprise, then gave me one of her warm, sweet smiles. I drew her into an embrace, locking her close into my arms, listening to her heartbeat. There were only two on this earth that mattered the most to me. I kissed her soft mouth.

"Where's Eli?" she repeated, but I couldn't answer.

* * * * * * *

Ki'luwani lowered two baskets he was carrying attached to a wooden stick on both sides to the dirt by the stream. His face was extremely pale, and he looked as if he could barely manage the burden placed on his frail shoulders. With a faint sigh of relief he stretched his back, then dropped to his knees and began to drink. Through the leaves from the tree I stood behind the thick trunk, one hand resting on the bark. He loudly slurped the cool liquid, but straightened up once he saw my reflection behind him. As he began to take off at the sight of me, I leaped off the the lower branches. He released a muffled scream as the water began to morph and rise in the air around us, and we both fell beneath the surface with a large splash.

Bubbles rose from his silent screams; I allowed the currents to form and warp around my fingers; pressure building up in my head until we reached the bottom. Raising my left hand, the water began to rise several feet above us, creating a small pocket of air, containing the both of us. Ki was coughing, gasping, looking around at the dark, cold wet abyss, his hair plastered against his eyes. He shrieked and scooted backwards, fingertips digging and leaving tracks into the soft mud.

"Milo?"

I gazed at him, my chest, rising and falling.

"What do you want?"

"I won't hurt you," I held my other arm out. "Please, don't be afraid. Don't...don't run."

"Let me out of here," he whimpered.

"I'm sorry. I ask..." I whispered. "I beg you to listen to me. Please, that's all I ask. For a moment."

Ki shivered, hugging his damp clothes.

"You need to find a way to convince George to let everyone evacuate this place as soon as possible. The Red Mambas are only about four to five days away from this place. Marching down about thirty to forty miles, give or take. Continue down south to where the beaches are and stay there. No one must leave." Dizziness settled over my head, but I struggled to remain alert. "He'll kill everyone here."

"Why'd you bring me down to this place? How is this possible?" Bewilderment settled in his eyes as he observed the water around us, being witheld from my right hand. "How are you doing this?"

"I won't harm you. I promise I won't. I just needed to find a way to talk to one of you. But you must hurry. You need to leave everything behind. Tell Svetty to meet me by the clearing of the woods tonight."

He remained still.

My voice shook. "Tell George that I'm going to destroy the village. Tell...tell him that you saw me. I need you to generate as much chaos as you can. Do not go up north, whatever you do. Here." I fished into my damp pocket and held out a soggy map. "Once this dries, read it. I've highlighted the best location for you all to stay in in red. Do not, under any circumstances, go outside that zone. It's uninhabitabed at the moment, but there are plenty of resources for you to last for a while."

Ki, to my surprise, reached out and retrieved the paper. He looked at it for a moment, then back at me, caught in a petrified state. Shaking. He was a boy, yet almost a man. Caught between the two.

"Please," I quietly said. "Do this for me. And remember to tell Svetty to come to me."

"What will happen to you?" he asked. “Will you be leaving as well?”

”I can’t.”

He shivered uncontrollably.

My head hurt so badly I grimaced. "Please."

He continued to stare at me.

“I’m…I’m begging you—”

I exhaled; my body went limp. The water crashed down upon us, the sudden coolness a deep relief against my burning skull. As we floated upwards, I saw his form trip, stumble, and rush down the bank. The buckets had been knocked over in the grass, next to one of his shoes halfway swallowed in the dark mud. My head slowly broke through the surface of the water as I studied his disappearing form and panicked shouts, though I knew not who he was calling to. And for a moment, the sky became a pink hue. Smoke filled the air as I inhaled the misty air.

I bent down and placed his muddy shoe on a rock so he could retrieve it.

* * * * * * *

During one late evening, my beloved and I had peeled off our sticky clothes in our cave, sweat glistening on our bodies, because it was so incredibly hot. They were gathered in a pile on the ground. The sweltering air was heavy and made it difficult to breathe. Her breasts were large and swollen, and her enlarged middle was covered in freckles. In the dark, on the bed, I gathered her from behind in my lap, the blankets bunched around our hips. She leaned her head against my shoulder. Her puffy eyes were closed, her body locked in a state of relaxation. She was curled into a ball against me; the vertebrae on her back poking through her skin. Her small hand was on my thigh, the knuckles bruised purple.

It had been one of the exhausting days when we both were too worn to speak much. The search for food had been mostly unsuccessful, and the dirt caked under her fingernails told me that she had been searching the garden for any remaining vegetables. Her chest rose and fell slowly, and the deep line between her freckled breasts was more pronounced than before.

I slowly rested my palms on her stomach and brushed my mouth against the side of her neck. Her scent was of the grass and trees. And yet, her closed eyelids fluttered like a dying butterfly. I studied her face for a moment, desperately wanting to look her in her eyes.

Her breathing was calm, collected.

”I know that you saw me that evening in the woods. You can tell me how you feel, when you are ready to.” Water beaded in my eyes. “I’ve done many things I’m not proud of.”

I knew she was responsive to every sentence I managed to choke out, because her heart began beat a bit quicker. I closed my eyes and rested my chin on her left shoulder, running my fingers through her hair. My lips brushed against her ear as I whispered the word I wanted her to hear the most.

”Amore.”

Her skin was soft, comforting. Her breaths were calm, her blistered lips slightly parted, maybe she was indeed caught in a deep slumber due to her labor in the garden. I kissed the hard yellow callouses that had formed on her warm palm and the stump where her left arm once was. I needed to memorize every part of her, because she would be here no more. Although I waited for her to sign something, she didn’t. And I acknowledged her silence—I knew she was processing these things. She snuggled close to me, her fingers motionless, limbs still as swamp water. I listened to the sweet rhythm of her heartbeat and buried my face in her hair.

“There’s…there’s not much time left,” I whispered. “It’s okay if you are afraid to talk about the things you’ve seen me do. I understand.” For a moment, my heart sank. “But know that whenever you go, no matter how far away we may end up away from each other, you’ll always be a part of me.”

Her wild hair filled the cave. Our legs were soft against each other, her naked buttocks warm against my thighs. My fingers trailed her back. I adjusted my knees, cradling her legs between my own, our bare feet tangled against each other. Something was building up inside of me, like a brewing pot as she settled in the nest of my arms like a bird.

It would be one of the last times I would be able to touch a human being. To feel their skin against mine and hear their breathing. As I slowly ran my fingers through her hair, my gaze fell on a patch of moonlight that had spilled on the ground.

* * * * * * *

My beloved found cloth, needles, and thread. How she sewed very small shirts and other articles of clothing for such a tiny human being with only one hand I knew not, even when she presented a detailed quilt she was working on for the baby, neatly folding them in colorful squares. With the straw broom, she swept the ground our cave to get rid of any cobwebs that made her sneeze.

Her stretched stomach resembled the shape of a small melon. Once she sensed my presence, she eagerly rose to her feet and rushed towards me, pulling me into an embrace. I slowly returned it, eyeing the sketchbook that she had dropped on the ground. When she pulled back, she suddenly giggled. It was good to see her in high spirits, despite how unwell she had been.

"Why are you all wet? Did you fall into a puddle?" Her eyes widened. "Where's your walking stick? And your nose is a bit bloody. Here.” She handed me a handkerchief.

I looked down. It was impossible to look into her eyes.

"Why don't you lie down for a while?"

"Nonsense, it's just a little cough. I'm alright." She stood in front of the boiling pot of stew. "I know I haven't been as much help to you lately because of this bug, but I'll eat as much as I can, so I can be strong as you.”

Before I could say anything, she dragged the stool across the ground and patted it with her hand.

"Now sit down. Give me your shirt," Honda signed. "I'll dry it off for you." She gestured to the small campfire and the smoke rising in the air. "I've managed to make rabbit stew. Should keep us going for the next couple of days. And then we will have enough energy to try to fix our vegetable garden."

"How’s the young’un?” I weakly asked. My fingers shook as I fumbled with the blasted buttons and pulled it over my head. Instead of handing it to her, I slowly settled on the bed. "Hopefully the nausea spells aren't too disruptive."

A grin spread across her beaming face. “Kicking. Moving all over the place. Never still.”

”Already?”

”Wants to stretch their little legs. They don’t like being cooped up inside anything. I can tell they’re going to have a lot of energy. During the day they mostly nap. At night, they’re wide awake.”

I smiled, although my insides were breaking.

”Let me fix you a bowl.”

”No…no—” I touched her wrist and gently turned her to make her look at me. The confusion on her face only broke me more, but I kissed her round nose. “No need for all of that.”

”But you haven’t been eating.”

I said nothing, just held her in my arms. To me, she looked dangerously underweight and not the best condition to travel. But to keep her here was also a death trap.

She proceeded to proudly showed me all the silver thimbles on her red, blistered fingertips, and had put together a notebook full of sketches and watercolor paintings for the little one, because she was worried that the once fruitful landscapes she captured in them would be gone. As she handed the pictures to me, I suddenly pulled her into my lap. She leaned her head against my shoulder, and I buried my face into her soft curls. My eyes were wet, burning, but I began to hum. She traced the outline of a range of purple bluish mountains.

"Where's this place?" I whispered. "It's nice."

"My home," she signed. "Where my father and brother used to go hunting with the other men. We can go there someday, along with the beach.”

”Perhaps.” At this point, I doubted I would ever see the beach again, let alone the sun.

A long pause came between us. I could tell she wanted to turn her head, but I gently rested my muddy hands on her growing middle.

"Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?"

"Doesn't matter to me," I managed to say. "As long as they're healthy and strong."

"Me too." She fell into a coughing fit, and I led her to the bed and laid down next to her.

“I don’t want you to catch anything from me,” Honda signed. “Not too close.”

”Me?” I asked. “You know I never get sick.”

She laughed, which eased the ache in my chest a bit.

Once I drew the blankets over our heads, a soft smile fell upon her mouth as I slowly tucked her hair behind her ear, letting my fingers trickle down her chin. I faintly returned it and placed a hand on her hip.

Suddenly, she straightened up and kicked the sheets off. I sat in the bed, hugging my knees. She wiped the sweat from her face and began undoing her dress, pulling it over her head, revealing the thin white shift she wore underneath. She sighed with relief.

I gazed at the freckles that dotted her arms.

”It’s too hot in here,” Honda signed. “I know a better place, where the rain can’t reach us. Ever since you showed me your secret spot, I’ve always wanted to show you my own.” She smiled and beckoned me with her hand. “Please! You have to see.”

As she wandered outside through the dense leaves, I followed after her, concerned that the fever might had already addled her senses. Outside, the smoke had let up a bit, and I saw her approach a wooden swing with two ropes attached to the branches of an old, large oak tree. As she swayed a bit and began to sit on the flimsy board, I rushed up to support her. She looked down at me and chuckled at my expression, wrapping her arm firmly around the right rope.

”Careful,” I said. “I don’t want you to fall.”

”I’ve done this lots of times,” she replied. “Come on. It cools you off better this way.”

I studied the swing. “You made this?”

She smiled and scooted over, her muddy bare feet tracking soil on the wooden board. As I sat on, I grabbed the left rope. The sound of leaves rustling around us made me look up, as slowly, we began to swing back and forth. She was right. The cool air rushed to my face, clearing my head. Her ragged skirts blew in the wind; our bare feet dragged against the naked earth.

”It’s a wonderful spot. You can make out the hills and valleys from here.”

"Can I tell you a story?" I gently asked.

Honda nodded, although looking perplexed at the question. She snuggled close to me.

"There was a king," I whispered, "in a far away land who once owned a great deal of land, a giant castle, and numerous vineyards and gardens. He was a prosperous man, but he wasn't impressed by all his riches. As a matter of fact, he envied anyone who had more wealth than him."

"Oh?"

Her hair floated around her thin shoulders. The sound of the ropes creaking above echoed in my ears as we swung back and forth. Her eyes slightly closed, a smile on her freckled lips, as if she were imagining it all in her head. I softly continued speaking.

"One day, frustrated with the current state of things, he made a wish that everything he touched would turn into gold. He had a dream that night in which a little man told him that what he desired would be his. And the very next morning, when he woke up, he touched his bedspread, and before he knew it, it was in the finest golden thread."

Honda grinned. "It must be real nice sleeping on a bed made of gold. Must be like a cloud."

"He loved watching gold coins appear out of thin air. That is until he found that he couldn't really enjoy his fancy meals, let alone drink his wine or get dressed. He got so frustrated that he went out in one of his gardens to figure out what do next. When his daughter rushed out to greet him, he was so excited to see her that he temporarily forgot about his problem. The moment he embraced her, she became a statue of gold."

"That's terrible," she signed.

We had begun to pick up more momentum, cold air blowing our hair back and against our faces. For a moment, I felt very, very small, like I was child again on the old tire swing that used to hang from my neighbor’s backyard in Nivea. I couldn’t remember her face, only her smile and wrinkled hands. And how she used to offer me lemonade and peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

Tiny.

"He was horrified at what he had done." My voice cracked, but I swallowed hard. "He wept for days. It didn't matter that he was the wealthiest man on the earth. He had lost the only thing that was the most valuable, more precious than gold."

"Was she able to turn back into a human being?" Honda leaned forward and slightly bent her knees. "Was she trapped that way forever?"

"No," I whispered. "He wished that his previous wish had been undone. In a dream; that same little man told him to go to a river and pour water on anything he had turned into gold. He did just that, and was able to see his daughter again." I had to look away, my voice barely audible.

A glow fell on her tired face. "What a strange story. But I loved it. Who told you that?"

"It was in a book of Greek fables that I've read a long time ago," I replied, ignoring the tightness in my voice. We were slowing down now, the ropes creaking less.

“You should tell me more of them.”

I did not answer. Her breathing was heavy, labored due to her illness. Instead, I placed my palm on her raised, freckled stomach and released a shaky breath. To my surprise, there was slight movement. She had been right—this kid was very sharp. A smile faintly gathered on my lips, although the thick heaviness settled at the very back of my mind---or what else remained of it.

* * * * * * *

I wrote a note explaining everything I had done, blinking and fighting the moisture building up in my eyes. After waiting for the berry juice on the paper to die, I slipped it into her satchel, between the pages of her sketchbook.

It was time to execute my final plan.

One hour later, I slowly shook Honda awake. The sound of explosions outside was like thunder. Her eyes were heavy--the lids barely open. I reached for her satchel and placed all of her belongings inside--careful not to smush her artwork, including all of food we had. I slung it around her right shoulder. She was in a groggy place, but I tucked the quilt around her ragged dress to keep her warm from the crisp air. When we rose to our feet, she leaned against my shoulder, snuggled against me. My hands were shaking as we made our way outside. I held her close, trying to remember her body, the scent of her clothing, her skin and hair. I pressed my hand against her forehead.

She was burning up.

"Where are we going?" she weakly spelled.

"Svetty's." My throat tightened. "She will have some medicine to help you feel better."

Honda faintly nodded, before drifting back halfway into sleep again as we passed through the still, quiet woods. Frankly, I didn't know where Svetty stayed in the village, but that concern quickly drifted away when I saw her still form leaning against a tree after a few miles of walking. She held a rifle in her left hand, her white hair in a long braid that hung to her waist. The hardened look in her eyes disintegrated when she noticed us both stumbling down a hill.

The woman rushed towards us, immediately dropping her weapon. As Honda collapsed into her arms, she began to cough again. Svetty cleared the sweaty strands out of Honda's damp face. Her face paled when she saw her stomach. I was shocked to see that she did not have a K shaped scar on her cheek, but there was no time for questions. She seemed more surprised at my appearance as well, and slightly frowned.

”Are you Milo?” she asked.

I shamefully nodded, although that was not my name. What good would come out of telling her? And yet this was the woman who had helped her in Selva. It was so odd speaking her face to face, although, like most people in the village, I had longed to have a conversation with them for years. And now, I hardly knew what to say to her.

“You must be Svetty.” I helped support Honda, who leaned against my side. “She has spoken a great deal about you. I…I wish to thank you for coming here.”

"Ki told me to stay here and wait for you."

"Yes." I knew I owed him a great deal. I was shocked that she was even here. This all felt like a dream to me; one that I could not wake up from. Honda turned her head to the side, and her chin a the bottom of her neck glistened with sweat. “You must give him my thanks.”

We gazed at each other for a while, before listening for the popping sounds of machinery and grenade bombs. I handed her the satchel and draped the quilt around Honda's shivering shoulders. Svetty frowned and took a hard look at me.

”Who are you? I’ve never seen you down here in these parts before.”

"I know you don't trust me," I quietly said. "And I know you aren't entitled to give me anything. I don’t have any money, but any means of payment for doing this will be eventually given to you. Just get her as far away from this place as possible." The thought of Baldwin even finding out about my unborn child made chills shoot up my spine. "Please, get her out of here."

For a moment, Svetty hesitated. I knew she wanted more information, but the sound of a grenade echoing in the background made us both look up. I withdrew a deep breath.

”How far along is she?”

”About four months.”

The woman hissed her teeth. "You must leave, you know. Have you gone mad? Do you not value your life? Come with us."

"I can’t," I answered. "I have to stay.”

Her blue eyes narrowed, before she noticed my unscarred left cheek. “Why?”

There was no way I could reply to that question. As I began to slowly stand up, Honda tried to do the same as well, but the other woman held onto her. My beloved’s face was full of confusion, and she tried to reach me. I studied her, swallowing hard. Svetty began leading her down through the trees, but Honda had wrestled free and began to rush towards me. Immediately, she pulled me into an embrace, more tightly.

“You do not understand,” Svetty told her, trying to pull at her arm. “The soldiers are closing in all sides. George and the others have relocated, and we will rejoin them soon.”

”I..I can help—”

“No, dear. And we need to leave now, before we are spotted too.”

”I can help,” Honda scribbled in my hand. “I won’t get sick no more. I can—“

I held onto her for a long time. Her back shook with sobs, before I slowly let go. Her only arm was still outstretched to me as Svetty pulled her back.

"No, don't leave. Where are you going?" she signed, a crushed look in her eyes. Water trailed down her cheeks and dripped from the bottom of her chin. "Let me come. I stay with you. I don’t go anywhere without you. I can be a help to you. Please.”

I cupped her warm face with both hands, weakly smiled, and rearranged the blanket around her shoulders. She looked up at me, rapidly shaking her head. The fibers from the quilt had gotten stuck into her damp hair.

“Please, don’t go.”

“It will be alright, amore.” My voice came out in a raspy whisper. “You must promise to eat well for me, yes? So you and the baby will be strong and healthy.”

Her panicked gasps were more hectic when the realization settled in. “No. No, no, no.”

”Come now,” Svetty said in a low voice. “Hurry. We must join the others.”

”No…I stay with you! Please. Please!”

I lowered my head as the white haired woman firmly pulled her away from me. Honda’s hand slipped from mine, which was sweaty and clammy. They both began to retreat into the shadows of the dense trees. A crushed look appeared in her large gray eyes.

"No! Please, don't leave me!" she frantically signed. "Please!" She tried to fight, but the woman kept dragging her back again. She was trying to rush to me, caught up into a series of deep strangled wails. "No, no, no! Please! Don't go! Please...please! Please!”

The satchel fell from her shoulder and landed on the ground, spilling out its contents, including a small painting that slid out in the mud. Unable to stay any longer or look her in the eyes, I turned and began to walk away, the cold wind making my nose a dark red shade. I gritted my teeth as she struggled and kicked, her grass stained skirts and bare feet covered in mud and dark red scratches. She tried to make her way over again, but was held back once more by Svetty. Her hand was flailing, signing words being carried away by the wind.

“Please! Come back. No. Please, don’t go!”

I did not look back, nor listen to Svetty's pleading voice for her to come with her. In the distance, I could hear her strangled cries, and it was only until I reached our dark cave did I slowly sink to my knees and fall apart and sob uncontrollably until my tears were gone and my throat was raw.

That night, I hugged one of the baby’s small knitted shirts to my chest and listened to the gunfire outside in the distance.

* * * * * *

The earth shook so hard rocks broke apart and fell upon my head in the ruins of Navu.

Two evenings later, as I prepared to look for more soldiers in the city, I opened the window of an abandoned office building, and climbed out on the windowsill, my bare toes wrapped tightly around the surface. Strands of my filthy hair fell over my face and scabbed lips.

I worked on finishing a bent cigarette I had found in my pocket, smoke trailing in the air. My index and ring finger shook. My eyes were bloodshot and swollen, and I tried to shut out the previous day’s events. After releasing a final puff, I tossed it out into the air, next to the waste on the street.

A bright orange blast echoed across the sky.

The brick wall I was on dissolved, and I found myself on the ground, coughing.

It was suddenly very, very hard to breathe. Glass shattered on the ground like hideous crystals. Groggy, I frantically struggled to sit up, coughing in the dense smoke. The sky was pitch black. What once resembled a bus shelter was now a pile of rubble and splinters wood. Ashes and cinders filled my lungs, and the sound of machine gun fire peppered in the distance. Fighting back the nagging pain in my bad leg, I began to crawl on my hands and knees through the crumpled, torn roads. I coughed uncontrollably. Dozens of fires were burning amongst the piles of rubble, and I could hear the soldier’s shouts in the distance.

The faint sound of someone’s boot squelching against the mud made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I remained still, listened, before slowly sliding my bare foot towards where I could feel the vibrations. A thick line of ice shot out in the direction, followed by a heavy cracking noise and some muffled screams. The tip of a frozen rifle brushed against my forehead, followed by a soldier’s lifeless eyes that stared at me in the face. Blood oozed from his mouth, as a large icicle had sliced his stomach delicately in half. His fingers were just on the trigger. With both hands, I broke off the beautiful M-16 carbine and ran my fingers across it, savoring the texture. The familiarity was so strong I almost smiled. I didn’t realized how much I had missed actually holding a gun.

“Why, thank you,” I murmured.

He didn’t respond, of course. I lifted the strap and hung his bandoliers diagonally across my shoulder. In the distance, I could see more shadows and grunted in pain, trying to fight the waves of dizziness that settled over me. But I slowly closed my eyes and exhaled. Having been alone in the woods for years, the silence of the trees had made my ears most sensitive to even to smallest sounds, from the grass blowing in the wind to gophers digging holes in the dry earth.

Licking my dried lips, I slipped off the strap securing my new rifle hanging from my right shoulder and reloaded, shakily pushing up the magazine cartridge up. My vision was blurry as I tried to locate any soldiers in my mist. The bandoliers slung across my chest glowed in the faint orange and red light.

Another blast echoed in the distance, throwing me off my feet. As I paused, crouched on my knees, I could make out frantic footsteps coming my way. My head was starting to hurt already, but I managed to slow down my breathing. As my left index finger curled around the trigger, the shadow grew closer.

A gentle wind blew around me.

I extended my left arm out, grunting under the pressure in my head. Generating a long, winding ice slope, I slipped down and across the roofs of the rotten structures and felt the wind pick up in my hair and clothing as I made my way towards the dark, unlit streets, and the many sagging buildings. The ice grew and spread out, curling and wrapping around me. The rain began to fall harder as the white mist followed me to a small enemy camp, the flag of the Snake in full view. I crouched in the mud, my knees bent, eyes unmoving. Water formed in the air and began to attach themselves to me.

Shakily, I reached for my rifle and reloaded it. Mud rose to my bare ankles, water weighed down my clothing, and my hair was plastered to my face. Crouching low, I made my way towards the first tent, and, aware how much noise the gun would make, bashed their heads in, raising my arms.

There was nothing but a mass of bone and tissue and brain matter smeared across the ground. Blood trailed down my wrists as I studied the general's tent. I barged in, kicking over anything that settled in my path. My hands shook around the brain covered edge of my M-16.

The man jumped back, fumbling for his pistol. He yelled for his men, but I wanted to say, you fool, what men? We were not men, but monsters masquerading as men.

I pulled the trigger.

* * * * * * * *

Three days later, I destroyed the deserted village, my bare feet leaving footprints against the snow. I spent a final moment looking at the little huts, and what few belongings had been left behind. Dead leaves landed on the ground, next to a thick layer of frost. I briefly kissed the metal band on my index finger before stepping out into the empty huts, which was covered in layer of ice like fine powdered sugar. Several strong winds cut by, but I could hardly feel their coldness--although I was in rags. I didn't shiver, hardly flinched. My white hair blew in the wind, my head pulsing. I could hear the tanks rolling in. I could feel their treads. Destroying as much evidence as I could would save more lives, although I knew I would be suspected immediately.

A white visible cloud escaped from my lips.

Crystals sprouted from the ground, shaking the earth. My skull burned as the liquid was pulled out of the roots of the trees and used it to move myself forward throughout remains of the desolate villages. I gritted my teeth, swallowing the intense pain that seized my insides, forming six tendrils, three on the side of me. An electric blue blast seared through a nearby row, leaving behind a pile of splintered, wood. I imagined how many of these huts Covey and Milo and George had built with their hands.

And Fritz.

It was really just me and him here. His remains were trapped in the dirt by the stream where so many had used as a water source. Soon, his bones would provide nutrients to the earth, the trees, the birds. And finally the plants, which would grow again.

The heavy blue glow of my fingers caught my eye as I held them out, staring into the fog. My nose and mouth were covered in blood, and my breaths were shaky as I fought to stay in control of myself. Several heavy thumps, including the crunching sound of wood echoed in the distance. I slammed my left bare foot deep into the ground. Like a piece of paper, frozen chunks of the land swelled and folded up to form into large sharp spikes that stuck out sideways.

The water began to float in the air, and with a heavy grunt, I directed the smaller shards at the shadows around me, watching them go down. The fog finally lifted, easing the intense pressure in my head and the sound of gunfire filled the air. My wet hair hung in my eyes, I swung from each large shard to another with my tendrils, leaving behind towering piles of ice and snow and frost.

Slowly, I turned around, my tendrils swirling in the air around me.

These shadows were more visible in the bellowing white fog now. Several rifles were pointed at me, but I remained still, gazing at the familiar red flag blowing in the strong wind. The sound of boots crunching against the snow met my ears.

A tall, slim man with light blonde hair, almost matching the complexion of the sun, and a clean shaven face stepped out amongst the shadows of thousands of soldiers around me. His strange blue eyes didn't leave mine, and when he smiled at me, his teeth were just as white and straight as I had remembered. To me he hadn't changed a bit. And yet the look of fascination and wonder displayed in his eyes when he noticed the floating streams of water connected to my body made me physically ill. My hands were shaking, the taste of my hungry breath in my mouth a reminder I hadn’t eaten in three days. The blue light illuminated my skin, my nails and face.

It began to snow around us.

He waved a hand at his faceless men. They lowered their weapons, dressed in heavy clothing, wearing similar hats. I kept my gaze on him, not moving, the wind blowing my hair upwards. A pearl of dark red blood spilled down my nose and mouth. He clasped his gloved hands behind his back, and the fur from his scarf and earmuffs blew in the air. Yet his uniform under his coat seemed to lack a single wrinkle from it.

"Adlai James Bueler," Huey Baldwin said with a chuckle. "I'll be damned if I ever saw you on the street."