Anthony DeCosmo - Disintegration

Trevor painted the commandeered Redcoat shuttles he nicknamed ‘Eagles’ white and then trained people to fly them, starting with three experienced pilots from Prescott’s group. Nina wanted to learn but Trevor kept her focused on training new recruits and conducting patrols with the promise that her chance would come.

Meanwhile, Omar improved the Eagle air ships by installing improved radar and communications gear.

Furthermore, technicians worked long hours to bring an old coal-fired electricity plant on line intermittently to power Wilkes-Barre and its suburbs. The legacy of mining in the valley had left behind massive anthracite piles, more than enough to keep the plant running for months.

All the while refugees poured in.

The Poconos-to the east and southeast of Wilkes-Barre-proved fertile ground for finding intact families. In that rural region, it had been possible to hunt enough game to survive while a plethora of streams provided clean drinking water as well as fish.

On May 15, Lori Brewer announced that five hundred people had registered as part of the greater "estate". Evan Godfrey might have known each of them by name.

While humanity’s comeback continued for the survivors, the comeback of humanity in both Trevor and Nina blossomed as well.

He found the other bookend to his life. She could finish his sentences and he could do the same for her. They changed from new love to lovers to a couple. One day Trevor paid her what she knew to be the ultimate compliment: not only did he love her, but he liked her.

He liked playing racquetball with her. He enjoyed introducing her to classic movies such as Twelve Angry Men and Forbidden Planet. She taught him how to horseback ride and improved his marksmanship.

Some nights he needed to be something other than a leader. Just as had happened after the destruction of the gateway, Nina could comfort him during his rare times of indecision or guilt or sadness, or even when nightmares of his torture at the The Order invaded his dreams.

Nina needed to drop the front of the tough soldier once in a while. Sometimes she wanted to be a little Princess; sometimes she wanted to fold into his arms and forget about fighting and killing for a while.

He could do that. He was the only person who ever could. Without him, she feared she would become the quiet, icy introvert who could only find purpose in combat.

The first half of the New Year served as the calm eye of the hurricane.

June marked the one-year anniversary since the end of the world. June also brought war and misery.

The powers of Armageddon had noticed them.

The legions were coming.

Trevor had survived. He had begun to fight. Now came time to sacrifice.

"Easy does it," Trevor cautioned.

"This is…this is…," Nina searched for words. "I mean, it feels like I’m flying. Like it’s me moving through the air."

She sat in the pilot’s chair wearing oversized navigation goggles. Through them, Nina saw the landscape passing below as if her eyes watched from the front of the captured shuttle.

Dante’s voice over the radio cut the lesson short.

"Eagle One, you copy? This is Home Plate."

Trevor responded, "We read you. What’s happening?"

"We need you to do an aerial recon."

"Home Plate, that’s a negative, we’re on a training mission. Dunston and Bragg are up in Two and Three doing patrols. Call them."

Dante’s voice wavered: "Both Two and Three are doing recons in other areas."

"Where?"

"Eagle Two is on its way over the mountains and east to Blakeslee. Dunston is to the south below Hazleton."

Trevor sighed and said, "Okay, where do you need us?"

"Could you head north above Scranton to the Mid-Valley area?"

Trevor realized Dante sought reconnaissance in three different directions.

"Home Plate, what’s going on?"

"Um, Eagle One, I need a follow-up on reports we got from ground scouts."

Trevor asked, "What are we looking for?"

Silence.

"Dante, for Christ’s sake what did the scouts tell you?"

"Trevor, we have armies come at us. Three of them."

– At twelve noon on June 1, Eagle One with Trevor Stone at the controls soared over the northern suburbs of Scranton. Below them, the ground moved like a slowly rolling tide: Red Hand tribesmen swarming south like locusts.

Thousands of them.

– They landed on one of the newly built pads by the marina on the far side of the lake. Nina and Trevor transferred to a Humvee and drove for the mansion.

"Three armies at once? I don't buy that as a coincidence. There must have been two thousand of those Red Hands. Probably take-hey, you awake over there?"

Nina’s head rested against the side window with her eyes shut.

Trevor skidded to a stop along the shoulder of the road.

"Nina! Hey, Nina!"

She bolted upright. "What? What’s wrong?"

Trevor’s heart pounded as he told her, "You were out."

"Oh. Guess I fell asleep."

She refused to face him; her eyes focused ahead.

He asked, "What is it? Are you feeling okay?"

She redirected, "C’mon, get going. We have to find out what’s going on."

"Jesus Christ, Nina, has this happened before? Are you fainting?"

"Look, no big deal. I’m just not sleeping well."

"Bull shit. I sleep next to you. How many times has this happened?"

"Just get us-"

"How many times, damn it!"

She stared at her hands saying, "Three or four times, in the last two weeks…I think."

"Have you talked to Johnny about this?"

"Listen, maybe I’m not eating right. Just a little light-headedness. We can talk about it later. I’m just saying we’ve got more important stuff now."

Trevor glared at her and said, "We’re going to get you checked out."

"Yeah, sure, whatever, but let’s get moving."

– Trevor, his council, the inner circle of military minds, and the pilots returning from reconnaissance missions packed into the Command Center.

Dunston, a slender black man from Prescott’s group with a background in flying med-evac Blackhawks for the Army, relayed what he had seen before fleeing anti-air fire. Trevor listened while his eyes studied the map spread over the desktop.

"They’re humanoid and marching in loose formations. They had some carts or something pulled by animals. Like horse and wagon stuff, except they sure weren’t horses."

Trevor asked, "Nothing motorized?"

"Couldn’t tell for sure. I didn’t see any air support, either. I did see something that looked like a catapult and that made me think of them as Vikings, but that's really not right." The pilot chuckled and explained, "I guess it's getting harder and harder to come up with new names for everything we run in to."

"How many?" Brewer asked.

"At least a couple hundred, but they did a good job of staying under cover. I mean, until they popped out and started hitting me with something."

Trevor called, "Omar, get over to check out what hit Dunston’s Eagle." Trevor then spoke to the pilot again: "What way are they coming?"

Dunston leaned over the map and traced a line along Interstate 81.

"Heading north in the woods alongside the highway."

Shep asked Trevor, "And the Red Hands?"

"They’re coming south down Route 11."

Prescott said, "Maybe these Red Hand guys will fight it out with the Viking things."

Trevor asked the other recon pilot, "Bragg, what did you see?"

Bragg, another addition from Prescott’s group with experience flying Apaches and now alien air ships, stepped forward. He relayed his information in a firm, no-nonsense voice that matched his firm, no-nonsense appearance.

"Sir, some nasty shit coming our way from the east, Sir."