For a while, Tolly walked on autopilot through rubble-filled streets. She wasn’t sure what had just happened, as if she was stuck wandering about in a dream. She had reunited with Blane only to lose her again, forever. Now adrift in a sea of torment, she fell northward towards a fresh column of black smoke.

  As she came across the source of the smoke, a crashed Federation shuttle adorned with Cattleheart insignia, Tolly just stopped and stared. Confronted with the thought of more death within the shuttle, she hesitated and considered just continuing on her trudge toward the north. It wasn’t until a figure squirmed out from under the crumpled shuttle that she remembered her minimal training and rushed over to help.

  The figure was a man, his ceremony jacket tattered and bloodied just as her own blouse. When he finally squirmed free and looked up at her, they both instantly recognized each other. She tried to speak but just kept on dragging the man free of the crash.

  “Tolly, what happened?” Soren asked, regaining his footing forcing her to stop tugging him free.

  “Me– what happened? No, you– what happened!” Tolly said as she caught her breath. “I just pulled you from a smouldering wreck.”

  “Yes, thanks for that,” Soren said, straining to sit up. “What I mean is you've been crying. Are you alright?”

  “I'm–” Tolly stopped, remembering Blane's body propped up like an exhibit in the rubble.

  “Come on. You have to get up. Were you the only one in there? Were there any officers, a pilot, or was the whole thing run on autopilot? Seems stupid to fly in a warzone on auto if you ask me.” Tolly said. She knew she was rambling.

  “Tolly! Tolly, where's Blane?” he pressed, grabbing hold of her shoulders. “Did she find you?” She told me she had to see if you were at the cafe.”

  Tolly's heart sank, and Soren could see it in her eyes.

  “No–” he said. “It can't– she can't be. I only saw her no more than a few hours ago.”

  “Yeah? And look how that turned out,” Tolly spat. “Your shuttle’s a ruin, you've let Blane die, and–”

  Soren didn't react to her words, instead staring at her in disbelief.

  “–now, to top it all off, your pilot's probably bleeding out in there!” she growled.

  Soren finally got the hint and clambered to his feet. There was some blood on his pant leg that must've been from a pretty severe wound. It was apparent that by the way he climbed into the shuttle's cabin that his leg wasn't broken.

  “Tolly, come quick!” he yelled from the cockpit.

  Tolly rushed in to find a section of broken windscreen had sliced the pilot’s throat. The section was still lodged in his neck, preventing too much blood from escaping, slowing the blood loss to a meandering trickle. The pilot, his eyes wide and unable to speak, lazily pointed at the shard, pleading for it to be removed.

  “Gods–” Tolly said.

  “We can't remove it, Ensign Mennit,” Soren said, taking hold of the man's free hand. Soren looked at her as if asking for a consensus.

  She nodded.

  Without thinking, she dropped her pack to the floor and began pouring its contents onto the cockpit’s deck. She rummaged through the items of what at this point amounted to her entire life's possessions. She unzipped the medkit and went straight for a tube of battle-ready bandage. Biting off the seal, she lined up the tube with the wound just above the shard.

  “On three, pull out the shard, and I'll pipe the area with the gel,” she said to Soren.

  “Have you done this before?” Soren asked, sceptical.

  Without giving him an answer, Tolly yelled, “three!”

  Soren tugged at the shard once, struggling for a moment before it slid free. Immediately, a torrent of red viscous fluid started to pour down Mennit’s neck. Tolly moved quickly, squirting the gel, forcing the tube's nozzle tip deep into the wound. She had seen this done once before, but that was on a cadaver in the Academy lab.

  “Shit,” yelped Soren.

  The translucent yellow gel, reacting on contact with the blood, metamorphosed into an expanding, opaque, frothing paste. It reminded Tolly of the froth that drifted on the lakeshore from those days at the beach when she was a kid.

  The ensign coughed, trying to speak, and struggled as Soren tried to hold him down.

  “Keep hold of him!” Tolly demanded.

  “Ensign, please. I know it hurts, but if you don't calm down, you're going to blow the bandage seal.”

  The ensign kept struggling despite Soren's efforts, but he kept trying.

  “Ensign Mennit!” he paused, “–Jackson. I need you to think of your wife. Think of your son.”

  That got the ensign’s attention.

  “That's it! Good. Now, if you keep struggling, I will have to be the one to explain to them why you didn't come home to them.”

  The ensign relaxed with an accepting nod in his eyes. Tolly injected him with a syringe she pulled from her kit.

  “Wha–?” Soren said, surprised.

  “If he moved anymore, he would've bled out,” Tolly explained.

  “But now what do we do with him? He's dead weight now, and the shuttles bombed out. We're sitting pale here,” Soren said.

  “You don't understand. Your man, this Jackson Mennit, he's done. He can't be moved, not until the clot beneath the bandage begins to take. And you said it yourself; you’re grounded.”

  “I can't just leave him here.”

  “I don't think you have any other choice. Have you seen what's hordeing around the city? Monsters. Earth be damned monsters!” Tolly said, standing and wiping blood from her hands with a washcloth she'd taken from her pack.

  “Monsters?,” he said, confused but shaking it off, “But you have to understand I'm responsible–”

  “Look,” she continued. “That was the last of my bandage. If he happens to move again, for any reason, he’ll take a trip to the gods. I've seen enough death tonight to know he's probably better off.”

  “I can't just leave him here, not by the crashed shuttle at least,” Soren reasoned.

  “You've a point. He's not looking so good, and like I said, if he moves that neck even the slightest, he's done for. But we might be able to rig him a neck brace out of the right materials. Anything you have in the shuttle that can be used as one? Or better yet, have another medkit?”

  “There's a medkit, sure. But it was in the rear section. Blown out in the blast that knocked us out of the sky. There's a bundle of construction filament under the cockpit seat for emergencies; for use as a survival blanket, emergency shelter, flotation device and the like.”

  “That'll work!” Tolly said, rushing into the shuttle. The cockpit’s console was smouldering now, spewing the stench of burning plastic and metal.

  Outside, Tolly unravelled the filament and began feeding it bit by bit under Mennit's head and carefully wrapping it around, being careful not to wrap it too tight.

  “Looser,” Soren said. “When activated, the construction filaments will expand rapidly.”

  “Right.” She loosened the filaments just enough to allow a few centimetres of space between it and the ensign's neck, then applied a healthy amount of water, being careful not to get the bandage beneath too wet. The filaments began to expand rapidly, and soon Ensign Jackson Mennit had what looked to be a life preserver around his neck.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Dragging Ensign Mennit on a sled, quickly assembled from a shop door and two street sign poles bound together, Soren moved him northward on Smithy Street with Tolly not far ahead. Tolly would creep up and peek around the next street corner or alleyway. Then, giving the all-clear to an already exhausted Soren, she would move on to the next lookout position. They continued all the way until Relibus Street just northwest of the central market of Northern Mercao, the very same Soren and Blane had had their date the previous night, when Soren stopped dead.

  “I'm sorry, Tolly,” he said. Tears were welling up in his eyes that she could see even from a few metres away. “I should've been there to protect her.”

  That hurt. She wanted to agree, to tell him that it was all his fault, that if he had just made Blane go without her that they would be off this world by now, safe.

  Instead, she said, “It's– not your fault, Soren. Really. She came back for me. She always would have come back for me no matter how much you tried to stop her. She was good like that….”

  “Tell me,” Soren said, looking up at her. “Tell me how she died.”

  Tolly paused, remembering the horrible sight of her sister propped up like an art display. Blood seeping down her legs.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “Oh gods, was it by one of those monsters?”

  “No. Thank gods no,” Tolly blurted

  “It was dumb luck, really.” The peculiar thing was, Tolly thought, this whole night seemed to be like one big bad case of dumb luck.

  “The courthouse in Mercao came down right on top of us. There wasn't any time to react. Before I knew it, she was gone. Got to say goodbye at least,”

  Soren mused for a second.

  “Thanks for telling me. Comforts me a little to know she didn't die at the hands of those things walking the streets. Any idea what those things are, by the way?”

  “Not the foggiest. Best guess is they were human– at some point,” Tolly said.

  Soren grunted in agreement.

  “Either way, we have to get back to command. The city's been given a general evac order. Flock’s taking on whoever they can and leaving the system within the hour.”

  “General evac? Do they not know there are people still down here?” Tolly said, bewildered.

  “Sure they do. But they can't spare any more shuttles. Our best chance is to make it to the airfield.”

  Tolly’s shoulders slumped.

  “Airfield’s destroyed. Not a working capsule, shuttle, or orbital vehicle in sight,”

  “Damn,” Soren said. “Surely there's a depot somewhere. Where do they manufacture capsules on Bordeaux?”

  “Third level block, underground. Swarming with those monsters by now, from what I imagine.”

  “Gods, we really are screwed.”

  “Blane,” Tolly choked on the mention of her name, “Blane wanted us to head north into the mountains. After that, the desert should keep us safe from the wildfires until rescue comes.”

  “Problem is,” Soren said. “How do we get there? From what I remember from my ships’ telemetry, there's still twenty-five kilometres of city between us and the mountains. Gods only know how we're going to make it through all that. What you're talking about can't be done.”

  Soren was showing signs of stress now that the shock of the crash had begun to wane. Tolly could feel his frustration. His arm extended, gesturing towards her terminal.

  “Sure,” she said, handing him the terminal. “Bulletins are down, though. Hard-pressed to get a signal out without it.”

  Soren fumbled for the terminal for a while before giving up and tossing it back to her. His posture slumped. Tolly thought it strange to see him without his trademark smile for so long, almost as all the light had gone out of the universe.

  “You said it yourself. The Flock is leaving. Orders have been given, and there's nothing either of us can do about it,” she paused.

  “I mean, it's not like we're flush with choice here. I have just been through hell. I've seen thousands of people die. I've seen real-life monsters. I've seen my sister crushed in front of me. And that's just in the last twelve hours. Earth be damned if I'm not going to live after it all.”

  “I guess you've got a point,” a solemn Soren agreed. “What now? As much as I mean to, I don't think I can carry Mennit much longer.”

  She looked down at the unconscious Mennit. His hands were scraped and bloodied where they had been dragging on the streets. She took her pack and knelt by him.

  “Look at you,” said Tolly as she opened her medkit and snatched out a bandage.

  “Oh, shit, I suppose that's my fault,” Soren said, squatting beside her. “I suppose I should be more careful.”

  “With his neck, absolutely. But these scrapes and bruises are superficial. I mean, he probably won't do any hand modelling in the near future, but he'll live,” she smiled sardonically. She continued, “To answer your question, you're right. He's dead weight. Almost literally.”

  “It's got me wondering whether he'd be better just to have died in the crash. It's not like there's a hospital waiting for us in the desert.”

  “No,” she said, not wanting to agree with him, her medics’ oath – to protect all life – ringing in the back of her mind.

  “Federation doctrine says I'm to protect those beneath me and serve those above.” he began, Tolly remarking that their oaths weren't too far afield. “But I just don't see how keeping Jackson breathing will serve any purpose but to delay our escape.”

  “Captain Djucovik!” Tolly said, mustering a stern, commanding tone that surprised even her. “How dare you talk of someone under your command in such a manner!” Her mannerisms grew rigid, and she found herself actually pointing at him.

  “This man is in your charge, and even still, in my care. There is only one course to follow here as far as I see it. We find a ride. We make for the mountains. No more words about abandoning the meek to save yourself. Got it?”

  Soren nodded, looking embarrassed. Tolly could tell he was just tired, but the last thing either of them needed was more dead weight.

  “Now pick up that sled.” She demanded before walking off up ahead.

  The two of them walked for another hour, and Tolly could feel herself wanting to give in. She began daydreaming, her mind drifting back towards her bed. How she wished she would have just stayed there.

  The late morning sun was beating hot down on them, with only the occasional shade cast from oddly vacant buildings to provide seconds of relief. Each Street, just as smashed as the last; they kept moving. Soren was slowing, but without food or water, there seemed no reason to stop for anything. That was until Tolly found something.

  She came to a dead stop in the centre of the street and craned her head to look down one of the alleys. Not more than thirty metres away, just ahead of her, was the unmistakable violet colour of a shipping cube. The three-metre-by-five crate stood at four metres high and was used for shipping goods across the city and up into orbit.

  “Soren, come quick!” Tolly said as she rushed over to it.

  “I don't believe our luck. Is it still working?” he asked.

  “Seems so,” she said, accessing the cubes routines using her terminal. “Usually, these things have restricted access behind a paywall. But it looks like some sort of emergency protocol kicked in around the time of the first attack. It seems as though it was meant to be used as a lifeboat during a crisis.”

  “This cube looks like a tank. Are you sure it will fly?”

  “I've seen them whizzing around the city for as long as I can remember. The cube’s equipped with both upgrav and downgrav drives. Assuming both still work, we should be able to manoeuvre it out of the atmosphere.”

  “Hmm,” Soren said pensively.

  “What's the matter?” Tolly asked.

  “Sure, this crate might be able to hold us and take us into orbit. But against whatever is up there, I doubt we will survive long.”

  Tolly knew he was right and was already plotting a course north. She knew that if they could stay low to the ground, they might go undetected. She set out a path through the buildings of Northern Mercao.

  “Look around, look up even. Do you see any of the enemy's aircraft or any of this armada coming into atmosphere?” Tolly asked, “if we keep the cube low, lower than the rooftops, we might go undetected by whatever's in orbit.”

  “Right. But you still forget something.”

  Tolly looked up from her hand terminal, then down at the Ensign still lying unconscious on the sled.

  “I've no idea. Look, it's not like we have very many options at this point. By the grace of the gods, we've stumbled on this shipping cube, and that's not even saying whether it can fly or not. All I know is if we try to break for orbit, there's no way we can outmanoeuvre a flock of gulls, let alone an armada with the ability to wipe clean half of a stadium of people. I was there. I saw what those weapons can do, what destruction they can rain down. I, for one, am not willing to relive that again.”

  “So we head for the mountains, then the desert. What then? Is there a hospital or even a triage tent out there where Jackson can get patched up?”

  “Well, no,” Tolly admitted.

  “Then you're asking me to let an officer under my command die. That isn't an option, I'm sorry.”

  “Look. We've been lucky up until now. It's been hours since we saw any sign of those monsters. But how long do you expect that to last? I've seen how fast and how many of them there are. On the ground, we don't stand a chance.”

  “What about The Spire?”

  “What about it? You said it yourself; it was crawling with those things when you left.”

  “No, I didn't. What I said was we had been under attack. I only knew about those monsters from what you told me. What attacked The Spire was much different, much more organised.”

  Tolly immediately recalled the soldiers in black suits that she had narrowly avoided in the alleyway with Connor.

  “They were trained; armed,” Soren said.

  “And they moved in pairs?” Tolly asked.

  “So you've seen them too? It was almost as if they were there for something specific, using the monsters as a distraction. Infiltrators, but they moved as silently as ghosts.”

  “Did you get a look at them, helmets off?”

  “No. An officer did lay a shot on one of theirs. Saw the black suit hit the floor myself, so I know they can be killed. We guessed that because of the way the monsters sprung up out of what seemed like nowhere that the black suits had been brought in with the ships, although we're not sure how.”

  “And you've seen them since you've left The Spire?”

  “Well, no,” he said.

  “Then how do you know they're not still in there?” Tolly asked.

  “I don't. But The Spire is still our best bet at getting off this world. Surely there's still a shuttle docked on the upper levels. All that we need to do is pilot the cube up there and hitch a ride.”

  “You're acting like it's easy!” Tolly bellowed. She could feel her temper trying to burst from her ears.

  “There's nothing easy about this, Tolly!” Soren roared back. “In the last few hours, I've lost my best friend and your sister. I've lost my shuttle crew. I've seen men and women who I've served with for my entire adult life gunned down metres from me. I've seen my commander, my mentor depart without me. Hell, I half expect the whole flock to be wreckage in space right now. But I have to try. We have to try.”

  “No. It’s your fault Blane is dead,” she said, knowing that wasn’t the whole truth, “We do as she said. Safest way to go is north.”

  Soren reeled in his frustration and, in a subdued voice, said, “open it.”

  Tolly touched the open hatch icon on her tablet, and the shipping cube's entire side facing them opened with a clang. Soren dragged the Ensign’s sled up the extended ramp. Her heart racing and now embarrassed to have thought about leaving Mennit to his fate, Tolly boarded after them.