I was a geography teacher. I taught kids what the shapes of landmasses on the planet were, where each city was located, and where all the big mountains could be found. The closest I've ever gotten into a fight was when I was drunk for the first time at eighteen and punched a lamppost for insulting my honour. It may come as a surprise that I lost that bout, swore vengeance, and passed out. Make no mistake, violence isn't in my nature. In fact, even confrontations made me nervous. John and Amelia's combined aura of distaste though, nearly brought me to my knees.

With a coat around me to protect my desensitized body from the cold, the three of us were surrounded by a group of rebels, armed to the teeth with guns, with our backs to the RV. In the snowing basin, the Misty sky hung overhead, enveloping us in a giant bubble of poisonous gas. Leafs and branches on the pine trees around us remained still, showing no wind within the area. Yet, the air seemed to rage through the scene.

Impossibly angrier than usual, Amelia said, “We've brought him, Jason. Now you hold up your end of the bargain.”

The leader of the rebel, a buzzcut, red headed man, Jason, stepped forward out of line. His face was rough, scarred across the lip, chin, cheeks and forehead. His skin wrinkled, held in a constant unpleasant scrunch, looked to be in his late 40s. Unlike all his men, he wore a black short sleeved shirt, not caring a bit about the cold. A pistol holstered to the belt of his jeans. His eyes, a steely grey, almost distracted from the commanding grimness he wore. “Of course Miss Smith. If nothing, we keep our promises.”

“Promises?” she spat back. “What are we? Five?”

John cut in before things escalated, “If our deal still stands, Colonel Jason, why are your men pointing their guns at us?”

“We have to make sure,” the Colonel replied. “Milton Jones may be the 'Hero of the Mist', but he is a Roagnarkian cyborg.”

Amelia replied, “From over fifty years ago.”

Jason studied their reply, staring up and down and measuring us with his eyes. With a wave, he silently ordered his men to stand down. The rebel soldiers then turned and walk away back to the campsite behind them.

The Colonel then requested, “If you two will excuse me, I would like to speak with Mister Jones in private.”

John replied, “There's no need for a briefing Colonel. We've already told him about the arrangement.”

“Yeah,” his sister added. “And Milton's not one of your lackey soldiers.”

The man moved his hand over the grip of his pistol and the siblings tensed themselves. Though calm, Jason had a stinging, commanding tone when he said, “It's not really a request. Remember, so long as you are here, you are under my jurisdiction. And if you want my continued protection to get your precious 'Hero' to Roagnark, you're going to do as I say.”

Sensing a potentially violent confrontation coming up between the well armed rebels and my feisty granddaughter, I stepped forward. “Okay. Fine. I'll go,” turning to the siblings, I told them, “I'll find you two later.”

The pair looked at me worryingly, before exchanging looks with each other, followed by a nod, and a synchronized, “Fine” To me.

“Okay guys, that was freaky as hell.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I parted with Amelia and John and followed Jason through the camp. Though they called it a camp, it looked much more like a settlement. There were tents set up at random intervals, with a countable three small wooden houses scattered around the basin. As far as I can see, there were more than just rebel soldiers there, with a few men and women, children included, going about their day in casual, civilian winter clothes. Conversing, doing laundry, preparing meals. Normal, everyday activities.

We headed for the sole large, military, rapidly deployable shelter, which is basically a fancy name for a big ass green tent. Entering, I was not surprised to find myself in the war room, complete with military fold-able tables and benches, maps of surrounding areas pinned onto boards, and boxes upon boxes of equipments kept stored from prying eyes.

The colonel gestured to one of the benches, offering me a seat as he took one opposite me.

“No thanks,” I replied. “Robot legs. Don't get tired,” of course, I couldn't feel tired even if I tried. But from my grandchildren's reaction to the man, I was not quick to trust, and thought being on my feet would be more commanding against a commanding officer. “What did you want to talk about?”

“The Smith kids told you about what we're doing?”

“Yeah. You're going to use me to infiltrate the city. Open it from the inside.”

He closed his fingers together, seemingly impressed by my foreknowledge. “Correct. But there's something else we need you to do after that.”

Immediately, I replied, “No.”

“What? You haven't even heard what I'm asking of yet.”

“That's not part of the agreement I know. I get you into the city. What you do after that is your business.”

Jason got to his feet to stared me eye-to-eye. “I don't think you understand what's at stake here. The entire human race is on the brink of extinction and you are just going to sit by?”

I kept silence for a moment, staring at some blank spot in the table in contemplation, before replying, “Fine. Let's hear what you have to say.”

Appeased, the Colonel returned to his seat. “My intelligence has gathered that there's an E.M.P bomb stored at the warehouse for old Forum projects. And also, apparently, your credentials are still stored within The Forum system, seeing as you never officially left the organization. Apparently, dying slowly and boringly has a way of making people forget about you.”

I remembered days and years ago when Leah told me that my security clearance was one of the highest in the organization. “So you want me to get you into the warehouse?”

“That's right. If we can get our hands on that E.M.P bomb and get it working again, we can cripple the entire city and take it overnight. No casualties,” he emphasized the last point.

“No casualties?” I asked, surprised. I remembered Borris using the same technology on a smaller scale, the E.M.P grenade, disabling my implants, but otherwise, I'm still fine. “Sounds too good to be true. So why are you telling this to me and not John and Amelia?”

“Those two and I have contradicting views on the world,” he leaned back as he said so, as if to distance himself from me, for reasons that I could not decipher. “I would rather we keep this to ourselves.”

“And what if I don't?”

He pulled out his pistol and laid it across the table. “We'll kill them before they can even step out.”

Everything grew darker all of a sudden. I was faced with a firearm, threatened in my direction. Did I mention I'm not good with confrontation? Not least with a trained military professional armed with a deadly gun.

I swallowed hard, “What do you want with us?”

“Just you,” the colonel said. “All you have to do is help us get the E.M.P bomb, and I'll let your family walk away. Unharmed.”

“No casualties?”

“No casualties,” he confirmed. He got his feet, kept his gun, and walked towards the exit. “We'll be leaving camp for Roagnark tonight. You have until then to make up your mind. In the mean time, you and your...grandchildren are welcome to wander around our camp. But if me or my men sees any of you trying to leave, we'll put a bullet through your brain. And if you tell them, I'll hold them hostage,” he threatened with a disturbing calmness before leaving the tent.

I stood alone, listening to my heart which I just realized was pounding harder than it had ever done before. A part of me wanted to run away, to grab Amelia and John and just make a beeline for the world outside. But there was no place to go. The entire continent was covered with Mist. Just leaving the basin would kill us. A rock and a hard place was not an adequate description for the position I felt we were in.

From my pocket, I took out Borris's watch, the time stopped at the moment of his death. I needed a plan. I needed information. I need to know my enemy. And I can't believe I have an enemy now.