The sudden jolt of the ship’s thrusters violently shook the interior of the hull, the empty harnesses jingling in their depressing chorus. The surprised and stricken faces of the pilots when they arrived at the barracks to retrieve my unit twisted my stomach as I remembered their questions and remarks. I knew our unit was hit hard over the years, but according to these pilots who arrived with four too many drop ships; ours had the highest number of casualties across the board. It made me uneasy as my thoughts raced across their synapses and retrieved numbers and statistics, bringing to light the monthly reports from the neighboring cities with their corresponding units. The numbers were not what was making me uneasy, it was that the pilots spoke the truth and I have failed to accept it, our unit was demolished in the last few months; some say that it’s the terrain, others say the atmosphere, but I knew that it was neither. I am not a superstitious man, but when I was told that my unit would be overseeing New Gettysburg my heart sunk into my stomach, this city nicknamed “New Detroit” was going to be built upon the ruins of the infested city and it seemed as if the city itself seemed to torture the souls and minds of the soldiers on the outskirts of the borders trying to contain the madness. The sudden catch of turbulence against the frame of the ship shook me out of my thoughts and into the real-world situation I was in, as I sat there fighting against the shifting weight of my body against the harness, the sunken faces of my soldiers flashed across my eyes as gunfire and explosions filled my ears. I clasped my head, pulling it down towards my stomach ducking the sound of the flak ripping through the steel of the hull; the noise was horrific the screams and shrieks of bleeding soldiers echoed through the air, I tried to yell above the noise trying to get some kind of response from the pilots. As I closed my eyes and the world went into slow motion, the feeling of gloved hands grasping my shoulders and shaking my body back from the brink brought me out of my nightmare. I opened my eyes as the nightmarish noise disappeared and the bloodied images stopped circling through the interior, I lifted my head as I looked onto the face of the co-pilot panicked and sweating as he tried to shake me back into reality. His mouth moved but his words fell on deaf ears as my body gave out and went limp in the harness as the world went black. I knew I was still on the ship, that much was certain in my hallucinations, I continued to feel the jolts and tugs of the ship against the sky as I faded in and out of consciousness.

The rush of air against my face as the large side hatches slid open and the ground came up to meet us, men in white uniforms stepped inside, unhooking the harness and lifting me onto a gurney leading to the doors of the hospital. The bright fluorescent lights blinded my darkened eyes as they flew overhead as I was rushed down the hall. The doors to a small room slid open as I was lifted again but this time into a bed as straps were tightened around my uniform-covered limbs, my protests unable to leave my disabled vocal cords. A vitality cage was lowered onto my chest and my signs were monitored by the machine’s operator. Pain erupted from my sides as the needles pierced my skin and a hot tingling sensation rushed across my core, relaxing my mind and my body going limp as the deafened chatter around me faded out of my sight. I woke up several hours later, my room darkened to not harm my vision as I brought myself to consciousness. An armed soldier stood by my door guarding against any entry, as a tall nurse took hourly notes about my vital signs flashing across the illuminated screen next to my headrest. Tubes stood out of my arms leading above my head into the vitality cage hanging from the hydraulic arm resting inside the ceiling. I tried to move my body even though I was still slightly sedated by the medication being pumped into my veins, the straps jingling as the buckles shifted catching the attention of the attending nurse who turned and smiled at my scarred and drawn-out face. She finished her notes and walked out of the room and down the hall towards a tall man in a white overcoat looking over a stack of patient folders upon the counter. He turned to acknowledge the nurse and quickened his pace towards my small and darkened room, his face covered by a large smile that drew the focus from his eyes which gave signs of the amount of mental anguish the man was in. As he got closer I could begin to see the markings on his coat, a large ‘C’ with a thirteen inside of it told me that I was within the accursed city I had helped to make. The doctor began to tell me that I had suffered a traumatic post-stress episode, where I suffered severe hallucinations and extreme pain and aggression. This was common in the unit members coming home from the war and was easily controlled with the correct medication and therapy. He and the nurse undid the straps holding me to the bed as I rubbed my sore joints and stretched my stiff muscles, he said that he would give me three months’ worth of medication and would do video-phone check-ins weekly to make sure I recover alright. I nodded in agreement, my voice still not audible outside of my mind, the tubes released from my arms hissing pressurized gases into the room as the nurse handed me a large suit carrier and left the room accompanied by the doctor. I swung my legs off of the bed, getting my bearings back as I laid my aching feet against the cold tile floor, my legs wobbled trying to readjust to carrying my body as I turned to support myself on the bed and open the carrier the nurse had given me. The sound of the zipper pulling apart the teeth of the bag echoed around the room as the dark green color of my formal dress uniform revealed itself from underneath the black layers of the bag, thankfully they removed my uniform before turning me into a pincushion. Putting the uniform back on felt like placing on a second skin, the buttons and buckles shined, the awards lined up perfectly, the edges crisp and straight, I retrieved my hat from the bag and dusted off the top placing it under my arm as I began stepping out of the door. As I stepped onto the threshold, the guard turned and saw my shining rank pins on my shoulder and immediately snapped to attention as I exited the white room and into the hallway where the doctor and nurse stood. The doctor held out his hand, a small black case in his fingers, he spoke that the new medication is injectable and that I should take it three times a week to maximize the effect. I answered with a crisp ‘yes, sir’ and turned towards the elevator doors leading to the garage floor where my ride to my new home would be waiting.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

The Humvee stopped in front of a brick and steel laid complex, windows lining the façade and reflecting the lights from the street below. I undid the latch on the truck’s door and stepped onto the sidewalk my shoes clacking against the cement as I replaced my hat upon my shaven head. I walked up to the door and was greeted by a man in a suit with a portfolio under his arm, I knew there would be one of them here… he is one of the veteran affairs delegates, someone from the government who was here to make sure that everything was in good condition as I got settled in. As the years had gone by the government had begun to support its troops a little more and started to make sure that they were able to flow back into the populace and return to normal lives. The only condition I had for these kiss-asses was that I wanted to be near my soldiers, so they put my unit in the same assigned complex as me, other than that I could handle the rest with the money they would be sending me every month for “serving the global initiative”. As I walked in I was greeted by whoops and howls from familiar faces looking over the railings of their assigned floors to see their old commander walk in to join them for a very long session of R and R. The next few weeks were calm, the medicine had begun to work and a new firing range opened a couple of blocks down so the guys could go and keep their skills sharp and mind relaxed. The money would arrive and I began to work on my new apartment, fixing the appliances and getting new furniture and parts for me to tinker with. My home became my workshop as my old soldiers would come by and visit with mechanical problems with their new limbs, or just to grab a beer and talk about what was on their minds.

I finally felt at ease with myself and the life I had chosen, but there were some nights when the skeletons in my closet would rattle at the doorknob and keep me awake at night with their threats and premonitions. A couple of months in, the guys started having their families visit them, the complex was filled with crying mothers and beaming fathers, their laughter and joy irradiated the very fibers of the building. I spent that day alone, a bottle of whiskey on the stand next to my chair and a glass in my hand, a picture of my family on my lap, the frame covered in dust as the picture inside had begun to fade. The men knew better than to ask me why I was alone today because they knew the story, the reason why I volunteered for the officer draft and made sure I was stationed in the worst sector of the country, the reason being that there is more than just ash outside the walls. Creatures and demons living in the lasting darkness and death continually circle and attempt to assault the walls of the fortified cities, these same bastards were the cause of my family’s demise more than eleven years ago.