Anthony DeCosmo - Disintegration

He whispered, "We should do this as soon as possible. I don’t like the risk to you."

She shook her head.

"We might die in the next day or so. I’m just saying, if that’s the case then I want to die the person I am now. If we survive this battle, then we talk. But not before then."

He nodded acceptance of her terms. He knew the doctors could give her stimulants to stave off the problem for a while.

– The sun climbed the horizon and glared across the lake. Overhead clouds drifted on a sea of blue while a light coating of dew sparkled on the grass.

Nina left the estate and walked with her eyes staring at the ground and Odin alongside.

She could not remember ever feeling so afraid for the future. After how far she had come- how far she and Trevor had come — after all these months. To lose him now…she might as well lose an arm or a leg.

She rubbed a hand against the side of her head but felt nothing there. She had never felt anything there. They hid it well.

A curious sight interrupted her thoughts: a white dog.

No. Not a dog. A wolf. A white wolf waiting near the stairs to her apartment.

"What..?"

To her surprise, Odin trotted toward the creature.

The wolf headed into the forest. Odin followed.

Nina stood still.

Odin stopped.

The wolf stopped.

Both animals gazed at her.

Nina, although she did not know why, followed the beasts into the woods and over a ridge. There she saw something more puzzling: an old man sitting at a campfire.

He raised a hand and waved to her.

Nina cautiously approached. The wolf sat behind the man and Odin relaxed by the fire.

"Come on now, honey, nothin’ to be worryin’ ‘bout. I’m a friend. Sort of."

"A friend?"

"Now ole’ Trev didn’t go tellin’ you ‘bout me? With how close you two been ‘n all. Thought he woulda shared."

Trevor had dropped hints about a mysterious entity that saved him in the early days. Nina never pushed to find out more. She did not need to know all the secrets.

He took a long gander at her.

"So you’re Nina Forest, mm-mm. I can certainly see why he finds you so alluring."

Nina fidgeted, both uncomfortable and on guard.

"Now don’t you go getting yourself all worked up. I’m just passin' time. Besides, you’re the one with the big gun, right?"

She felt the weight of her M4 on her shoulder and calmed.

"That’s all right and good. That’s the way of you, ain’t it? The feel of that rifle…makes you feel invincible. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that these days."

"Who are you?"

"Seems to me the world coulda done pretty damn well if you had been the other half of all this. Now that woulda been somethin’ to see." The Old Man hooted a laugh. "Oh dear goodness, that woulda almost been unfair. The two of you runnin’ over the baddies like a hot knife cuttin’ through margarine."

"You’ve been helping Trevor all this time."

"No, no, don’t go takin’ credit away from him. Fact is I helped him a lot less than he thinks. Just sorta pointed him in the right direction. He’s got a-what would you call it? — a natural pre-dis-po-zi-shun to what he’s doin’. It’s in his genes."

Nina blurted, "I love him."

The pronouncement dampened the Old Man’s mood. He appeared sad or disappointed.

"Yessir, that’s comin’ across clear. And you wanna know something? He’s all ‘bout you. That’s why I’m so scared. Me! Scared! Ain’t that just to beat the band? A little old emotion could go breakin’ that chain Trevor’s on. Breakin’ it and causin’ everything to fall ‘part."

"What are you saying? Look, I’m not really good with doublespeak."

"Nope, that’s true. I could see that right off. That’s why I like you so much, little lady. That and I got a soft spot for Trevor and I’d like to see him happy but that ain’t in the cards."

Nina slung her head.

"Then you know about this memory thing. You know what it means to me and him."

The Old Man corrected, "Best thing that ever happened. Hell, old Voggoth tried to pull a fast one and it’s come full circle and bit him in the ass. If he hadn’t put that in you, who knows if I’d be able to stop this? Something tells me Trevor would rather see the whole ball o’ wax die off than say goodbye to you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Like I said, I like you. I damn well respect how much of a soldier you are, too. Lookin’ ahead, I can see some big things for you. Because I like you, I’m gunna do something I’m not supposed to be doin’. Don’t matter none, though. You’ll either be dead or this will be forgotten."

"What are you talking about? Who are you?"

The Old Man smiled and said, "Sit by the fire for a spell and I’ll tell you a story."

The army approaching from the south-the "Vikings"-spent the night camped on the side of a mountain overlooking the neglected farms around Drums, Pennsylvania. At dawn, they resumed their northbound march along Interstate 81.

Stonewall split his forces into two brigades and maneuvered to engage the aliens. The General personally led "First Brigade" with Kristy Kaufman and Benny Duda, the 13-year old trumpeter, at his side. Dustin McBride once again commanded "Second Brigade" with the aid of Woody "Bear" Ross and Cassy Simms. Each formation included twenty-five mounted fighters.

Stonewall spent the first hours of his mission reconnoitering the enemy. When he garnered enough information, he found a safe spot atop a grassy slope, unpacked a heavy transmitter, and radioed his findings.

Miles away, Eagle One sat silent in a parking lot between the western banks of the Susquehanna and Route 11. Trevor and Dante, in the cockpit, listened to Stonewall’s report.

"The enemy can be considered humanoid in that they have two arms, two legs, a pair of eyes, and the like, and they are most certainly not barbarians. The 'Viking' name assigned to them is quite misleading. In terms of appearance, they’ve got big, puffy cheeks with wiry hair, a kind of whiskers I suppose. Their heads are mainly bald. Indeed, as I look at them I recall the fancy creatures of a Dr. Seuss book in that their outward appearance is almost peaceful. Alas, I regret to report their nature to be far more militaristic."

Trevor radioed, "What do you mean?"

After a patch of static, Stonewall answered, "They wear a battle suit resembling a poncho with a hood and goggles and a kind of rough trousers beneath. Their wardrobe displays a rather interesting attribute in that it changes colors to match surroundings, like a chameleon. These ponchos will turn green when walking through the grass, brown or rusty red in the forest. It was our misfortune to realize this ability when one of my riders found himself ambushed."

"Okay. I see what you’re saying."

"This group appears to be the most, um, capable of the forces we’ve faced to date. They use scouts and pickets and guard their flanks. They’ve broken their marching formation into smaller ranks to better conceal their number. Indeed, I invested many hours of scouting before gleaning the most basic information."

"What about weapons?"

"Their main armament is a kind of rifle. It fires fairly silently, therefore I suspect no powder cartridge; perhaps a magnetic mechanism that projects a pellet that kills more with speed than size. I suspect their guns to be at least as lethal as our own."

While Trevor mulled that information, Stonewall emphasized the bad news: "It is my opinion we are facing the best fighters we have seen thus far. They are not going to fall easily into a ruse in that they exhibit a degree of battlefield awareness lacking in the Redcoats."

"Weaknesses?"

"I have not spied any air cover. Considering Mr. Dunston was struck by ground fire it is fair to assume they are capable of defending against air attack. Furthermore, I saw no artillery, but there are several carts or wagons pulled by what can best be described as reptilian elephants."