I checked my watch: 387 hours, 45 minutes, 40 seconds. It didn’t really matter; my head blowing up would be a fast way to go.

  Rain stirred in my arms, whispering “Embers” in his sleep as he held me tighter. When you sleep, you fight the past; when you are awake, you survive the present. I kissed him and wiped the sweat from his brow. He exhaled, his grip loosening, and a smile almost crawled across his lips.

  Not mine.

  If he wasn’t here, I’d take whatever time the humans gave me and live in peace, but now that was no longer an option.

  I swung out the cylinder of my grenade launcher, alternating 40mm HEAT and HE-frag rounds. I slammed it closed. Safety on.

  Geiger pressed a protein bar into my palms, his eyes shadowed by heavy black circles.

  “Status?” he whispered as he combed Glass’s hair. She was coiled around his leg, fast asleep.

  “Combat ready, sir.”

  His eyes snapped back to his map. Every waypoint in the Rockies we had flown over was marked with a red dot. Salt Lake City was circled in black, and Fort Jefferson—55.6 km from the city—was highlighted with a red crosshair. The distance between every checkpoint was clearly annotated. In the margins, he had tallied the entire flight: 1,023 km. The number was circled and underlined in red.

  Next to his map lay the manual of arms for the Kamov-92 stealth helicopter. The text "Range: 1300 km" was highlighted in jagged lines.

  How do we return home?

  I almost laughed at the thought. Home. I didn’t close my eyes; the past did not drag me back. I held Rain.

  Fuck the past.

  A nuclear explosion in the distance lit up the cramped cabin. The fist-sized window was enough of a wound for the light to bleed through, and my vision instantly switched out of infrared. I did not shake—not this time.

  No one else was visibly bothered. Not Rain, not Glass, and definitely not the two demons sitting opposite us; they just giggled at the blinding light and kept cleaning their battle rifles.

  Geiger held Glass tight. She smiled in her sleep, her tongue flicking out once. Her eyes never opened; she just held on. Geiger sighed and folded away his map, stowing the manual and his notebook. Meditations by Marcus Aurelius was unburied from beneath them. I traced his line of sight on the page:

  We should accustom ourselves to watch the eternal course of destruction and realize that the universe itself sustains no harm. The death of one thing is the birth of another.

  He hid the yellowed text back under the manual of arms for the Mil Mi-75 attack helicopter that was escorting us.

  The nuclear glow died. One of the two gene-warriors checked the bundle of electronic equipment secured inside a copper Faraday cage opposite us. The bundle occupied a third of the cabin—drones, transmitters, FPV goggles, everything drone-related. It was also our lifeline once we infilled: the Aurora anti-drone laser.

  “Aurora,” said one of them as he inched closer to the one fiddling with an LCD screen attached to it.

  She just gestured a thumbs up and lit a smoke; her male counterpart snatched one from her packet. My eyes lingered on them.

  A mistake.

  “Want something?” he spat.

  “A cigarette, please, kin.” I couldn’t think of a better excuse. Geiger’s eyes were on me.

  The female flicked a cigarette my way without even looking.

  “You are that Gen-7. What was your callsign again?” The female gene-warrior lit my cigarette with a Zippo lighter.

  “Blood.” I inhaled. Geiger’s eyes sank to his yellowed book; he never stopped caressing Glass’s hair.

  “Semtex,” said the male one, taking a deep drag.

  “Bugeyes. Call me Bugs.” She mirrored the motion and crossed her legs.

  “An honor.” I nodded. My eyes snapped open; I forgot to pretend.

  “What?” barked Semtex.

  Bugeyes placed a palm on his lap, a crooked smile on her face.

  “Done this again, sister?” She pointed around with a lit cigarette. Geiger’s eyes locked with hers. Bugeyes smiled fully and looked away.

  Geiger tapped Morse code on my elbow. Be quiet.

  I tapped back: Fuel-RTB.

  “Infil in 15,” Geiger declared. Did his voice crack?

  I saluted.

  Semtex, Bugeyes, Carbide, nuclear war. Better than the vermin, better than...

  Minutes passed. The sound of gas turbines, the smell of kerosene. Total darkness alternating with flashes of blinding light still ambushing my senses. Suddenly, we stopped and started descending.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  I looked outside for the second time since we took off four hours ago. Altitude about 100 meters. Below us lay a snowy plateau, a rocky summit in the distance less than a click away. Then on the commander’s map, his pen tapped on Taylor Mountain.

  “We are in Idaho, soldier.” He placed a palm on my shoulder and hid his yellowed book with another. He glanced at his map and compass again.

  “Apologies. Wyoming.” He nodded, as he always did.

  “Where...”

  “Orders, arms, Rain.” He cut me off, and then smiled.

  I saluted; he snapped a salute back.

  Bugeyes and Semtex were already readying the drones as we descended. Geiger patted Glass on the back softly; instantly her eyelids snapped open. She scanned the cabin and uncoiled herself from his leg. Her anti-materiel rifle was in her hands; she pulled the bolt back, nodded, and eased it closed.

  Geiger and Glass’s eyes were on me. I mirrored their tactic; Rain did not wake up, he stirred.

  “Rain, wake up.” I received no response.

  Glass closed the distance. I slapped her arm away before it reached Rain. She hissed and looked at Geiger.

  “Stand down, Glassy.” He started gathering his gear; Glass joined him.

  “Rain, we gotta go.” I massaged his neck; it was tense. Every centimeter of him was wet with sweat.

  Seconds passed. The turbines wailed, decelerating us further; snowy ground was racing towards us.

  “Embers! Don’t leave me! Embers...” His hand reached out.

  I caught it.

  “I am here.” I held his palm.

  His eyes reluctantly opened; they looked like mine when I lost Holger. Our gazes met; slowly but surely his smile returned as soon as the past crumbled.

  I smiled back, expecting one of his jests.

  He got up, slung his battle rifle, and checked his gear. Then he winked at me, gesturing a thumbs up at Geiger and Glass.

  The ground stopped approaching. Impact. The doors slung open on each side of the cabin.

  We jumped out and cleared our sectors: Geiger and Glass starboard, Rain and I port.

  “All clear,” Geiger declared. I exhaled and looked around.

  Bugeyes and Semtex stood inside running diagnostics on the drones. The other transport heli was about to land 30 meters to our 12 o'clock. The attack bird hovered 10 meters above us, still scanning for contacts.

  The LZ was essentially a frozen basin, radius about half a click, mountaintops all around.

  Perfect.

  Ambient temperature was about -43 Celsius. I took a deep breath; the air smelled glorious. No hint of rot until we arrived.

  The attack craft started its approach; snow was blasted away.

  My grenade launcher was still scanning the horizon. Rain gently pressed it away, then passed me another cigarette.

  “You good?” Rain asked softly.

  “Was about to kick you awake.” I mirrored his mocking smile, no idea if I managed it.

  “Why didn’t you?” He lit my cigarette.

  I just shook the cigarette between us and walked towards Geiger. Rain shoved a packet of Marlboros in my pocket.

  “If you run out, just ask.”

  I just winked; he took my hand, and we walked together.

  Glass was still scanning the horizon. Geiger was looking at the map again, fighting the wind to keep it steady. His compass flew into the thick snow; he grunted as he retrieved it.

  “Where the fuck are we, boss? What are we doin’ here?” Rain passed cigarettes to everyone.

  “Grand Teton,” Geiger said, pointing North. “We are 20 clicks south.”

  “SLC,” he pointed South, compass in hand.

  “Ah cool, some clean air then.” He exhaled a puff of smoke and looked at his watch: 387h-31’-10’’.

  The sound of the gas turbines ceased; only the howl of the wind remained. Havoc jumped from her cockpit; a sharp whistle cut through the ambiance. She jabbed a clenched fist in the air. Everyone started walking towards her; we approached quickly.

  We formed a semicircle around her. Geiger and Carbide stood at the peak of the formation.

  “Unpack the birds! 30 mil, Aurora, air defense, drones—dress ‘em up!” Feet slammed on the snow as gene-warriors dashed back towards the helicopters.

  “Carbide, Geiger.” She gestured for the squad leaders to approach.

  “Rain! Rain! What the fuck are we doing?” I slowed down my step.

  “What does it look like?” He grabbed my hand and hastened our pace towards the heli.

  Bugeyes and Semtex were disassembling the Faraday cage. An EMP overhead would send us back to the early 2000s—whenever the fuck that was.

  Bugeyes was in the process of lowering a bundle of FPV drones of all kinds to the floor of the fusalage; her grip was shaking. I stepped forth and caught it.

  “Careful with that!” she yelled.

  “All is good, sister.” I forced a smile and set the bundle on the floor of the fuselage. Semtex started stashing the smaller drones carefully in a duffle bag, Bugeyes the control equipment in another. Rain unpacked the camouflage net and walked outside.

  I followed their instructions until all the mission-critical drones were sorted from the rest. They all had one thing in common: they were tiny. Each could fit in my palm. We bundled and Faradaied the rest.

  “Lift Aurora, bring it here! Careful!” Bugeyes jabbed a finger at a kevlar blanket Semtex had set up outside.

  The laser towered over the entire platform, which sat flat; instead of a radar, it had a football-sized device that looked like a heat-seeking missile seeker. I had no idea how it operated, but it weighed about as much as I could comfortably lift: 600 kg.

  It wasn't that heavy; I jumped out of the aircraft onto the blanket.

  A thud. “Fuck!”

  I sank in snow up to my chest, the blanket wrapping around me.

  “Steady!” Bugeyes reached for the contraption; Rain and Semtex followed.

  They took it and placed it on the floor of the fuselage, panting at the weight. I tried to move, to no avail.

  Bugeyes plugged her PDA into the contraption, still panting.

  “Are you stupid?” Semtex spat as he waited for the PDA to finish the integrity check. Rain shook his head.

  “Sometimes, I wonder how you made it this far, Logi.” He tried to pull me free and failed; the snow was as hard as solid ice.

  “Never seen ice or snow before, Rain.”

  “I’ll go get Geiger.” He dashed off.

  Fuck.

  My hands sank in the hard snow no matter how much I pushed.

  If we had enemies on us…

  “I’d die,” I whispered. No one paid attention to my failure.

  Soon, the check was completed. Bugeyes and Semtex exhaled and lit a smoke. Geiger arrived; he shook his head at the sight of me.

  Without saying a word, he boarded the heli and came out with a baseplate from the 122mm mortar. He sat it next to me, stood on it, and pulled. I heard every vertebra crack, and I collapsed onto the snow. He stood up and walked away.

  I straightened the Kevlar on a new spot. Their eyes were on me.

  “Fuck off,” Bugeyes spat as she flipped me off. Semtex slashed the air between us with his palm.

  “Grab your stuff, go to Geiger, Logi. Remember where we are.” Rain gestured without a smile.

  I picked up my arsenal and rucksack and walked towards the next helicopter. They had already covered it in camouflage netting; it blended perfectly in the gray-white landscape. Next to it, a 30mm single-barreled autocannon was already assembled, as was a miniature missile-based anti-aircraft system. Rucksacks full of gear were propped up against the aircraft. Geiger and Glass stood paces away from the rest of the platoon. Further away, the attack heli was also perfectly camouflaged.

  I felt everyone’s eyes piercing me. Without a word, Geiger started dashing towards our heli. As our paths crossed, he commanded: “Go to Glass.”

  I hastened my step towards her.

  “You failed at your first task.”

  My breath caught.

  “If your fuckups get anyone killed, you’d wish you never left Zharova’s whorehouse.”

  “I...”

  She aimed at my chest with her rifle. Her face was unreadable.

  “Where are we?” She switched the safety off.

  I remembered Geiger’s words. “Wyoming.”

  “Last chance.” She aimed at my head.

  I did not scan for Rain.

  She jabbed her barrel towards me.

  “Five…”

  “Four…”

  Fuck it.

  “Behind enemy lines.”

  She lowered her rifle, pulled the bolt back, snatched the 23mm round, and shoved it in my chest rig.