Another day, another safe house. It felt like we had constantly been on the move since the attack on the heights. Constantine kept up an unrelenting pace of hit-and-runs around the city. Whenever a group returned, we would torch the place and set off into the tunnels. Those tunnels. I loathed them. I was meant to be in the sky, not underground.

Still, from the reports that trickled in, the Captial Guard was doing a number on the civilian population. Thankfully, Constantine elected to keep me from those missions. Instead, he’d come with some veiled excuse seeking tactical advice. Those poor people. I wondered how many of them wanted any part in Constantine’s revolution.

We settled in a barren hospital wing for several days, its bleak projections illuminating the ghost of what once was. I wasn’t the only one uneasy by them. The hologram projectors were caved in one by one, and their blue and white sleep-depriving glow snuffed out.

I took up in an exam room off the main reception area. There were enough to go around, so it was nice not to sleep among a huddled mass of bodies for a few nights. The bed still had some residual padding, although it was tattered and bleeding dingy yellow foam.

While lying in my makeshift bed, I heard the rungs of my privacy curtain swing open and then close. Over my shoulder stood Constantine, with a soft smile drawn across his lips.

“We need to find you some new clothes.”

“Are there any outside the capital that would fit?”

“Probably not. Maybe a medical gown,” Constantine replied, moving his eyes across the room.

“A rebel with his butt hanging out. That would be a sight.”

Constantine let out a quick chuckle.

He laughs.

“How are you holding up? We’ve barely spoken since The Heights.”

“I’m doing alright. How is everything going out there?”

“Our progress is stalling, truth be told. Their patrols are adapting, even setting their own ambushes in anticipation.” Constantine looked up at the glaring circular light aimed at the wall, drawing illumination across the room. “We’ve lost two squads in the last week.”

“I’m sorry to hear.”

“They were good men. Dear friends to a lot of us. I knew one, Alex, pretty well. We grew up together. And I threw his life away.” Constantine’s voice quivered. It was a crack in the facade I hadn’t seen before.

“I really am sorry, Constantine. I’ve lost guys before. It hurts.”

“I just… I just wonder what…”

“You’ll always wonder what you could’ve done differently. How you could’ve planned differently. Sometimes, it’s just not in your control.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“If only—.”

“You can plan for every possible scenario, but things go wrong. They always go wrong. We always used to say every plan falls apart at first contact with the enemy. A truth that’s unfortunately stood the test of time.”

Constantine dropped his head, nodding with his eyes trained on the floor.

“I’m worried if we keep this up, we’ll whither away.”

“Change tactics,” I replied.

Constantine opened his mouth to speak but remained silent. He smiled half-heartedly and said, “Thanks, Jack,” before leaving.

******

The doctor’s fingers rolled a transparent orange pill bottle between them. Each melodic flick transfixed my gaze. We hadn’t spoken much since I arrived. Small talk gave way to a burning silence. A low drone from the instruments vibrated the air.

Claire was late but on her way. I wanted to know why she called us here, but the doctor declined to speak until Claire arrived. My veiled pleas went unheard as she politely declined to provide more information.

Claire stepped through the door. Her sudden presence warmed the air. She sat, gripping my arm, intently asking why we were called in. The doctor placed the pill bottle on the table and began.

Standing mute outside the medical offices, I draped my arms around Claire’s quivering shoulders. She was scared. So was I, but I had to be strong for her. I was the strong one, yet every cell in my body wanted to scream out - to cry out in a prayer I hadn’t recited in nearly two decades.

There was medication, and this wasn’t rare. It was startling but manageable if treated early enough. The medicine was expensive, and we had already pushed the boundaries of our health services allotment. It was going to be costly, but we promised each other to live destitute for the foreseeable future if it meant our baby girl could see the light of this world.

“Jack… hey Jack,” a voice drifted in.

I jerked, my shoulders nearly sliding off the table padding. On my collar rested a hand. Above me, the underside of Peter’s chin and eyes peering down. I swung around, sitting up to meet him face-to-face.

“You talk in your sleep.”

“Do I?”

Claire would often say the same.

“You sure do. Do you have a lot on your mind?”

Knuckling my eyes, I replied, “No. I don’t think so.”

“Good, you’re about to.” Peter grinned, nodding his head toward the open divider sheet.

I followed him through the reception area and into an expansive room with outlines of removed medical equipment across the walls. Constantine stood at the head of a makeshift table, flanked by James and another man I had yet to meet. Resting on the table was a flat rectangular object with a dull appearance.

Where have I seen that before?

“Good, he agreed,” Constantine said, looking up as we approached.

“I haven’t agreed to anything,” I replied, darting a look over to Peter.

“I figured this would be best coming from you.”

“Very well. Jack, I’d like you to help us plan our next move.”

“I’m not blowing anything else up.”

“And I’m not asking you to. You are one of the few people to have stepped foot on the upper walls—”

“I never told you about that.”

“I know. But you were on the upper walls, were you not?”

“I was.”

“And you’ve seen the fields that lay beyond them?”

“Yes, I have.”

“If we can get you on the other side of those walls, can you find and mark convergence points of the crops?”

“I could see where the fields met from up high. On the ground is a different story. What do you mean by mark them?”

Constantine grabbed the object from the table and laid his finger on the side to produce a holographic three-dimensional map of the outer walls. Beyond the structure, the landscape was blank—an empty array of blue-hued squares.

“Can’t you send someone else?”

“You are the only one who has any semblance of an idea where these convergence points are.”

“So? Send someone out there to find them.”

“That would take too long. Plus, it will be at night. We need someone that has seen it before,” Peter said.

“So I’ll be the one stumbling around in the dark.”

“You won’t be alone,” Peter insisted.

“Please, Jack.”

“Even if I could find where the fields meet, how would we get over those walls? They must be nearly five hundred feet tall.”

“We go under them,” Peter replied, dipping his hand in a submarine motion.