They had been speeding past that particular stretch of I-95, the occasional, unmoving headlights and taillights forming a trail of red and yellow against the rain and the scattered orange glow of the streetlights. Commander Jeremiah Halsey was in the backseat, delirious from pain, his breathing heavy and ragged, rising and falling in a chaotic rhythm.
Norfolk and the nightmare they left behind them had been hours ago. New York City, one of the last havens on the Eastern Seaboard, felt like a lifetime away, an elusive dream. An Eden in the midst of the Fall.
The last known broadcast from the Chief of Naval Operations was an order. Those in the Atlantic Fleet were to make best speed to the safe harbor that was the Big Apple. The Pacific Fleet was to rendezvous in San Diego—or, if it was impractical, the closest port to it. She sounded more hopeful than the gravity of the situation called for, and that was probably for the best.
The Commander had stopped bleeding out, but the haphazard nature of the first aid meant he needed proper treatment as soon as possible, lest the wound got infected—or worse, reopened. Just before, he had gone on a fevered ramble, pale and clammy. But in the end, he fell silent, only his lips moving as if trying to tell her something.
Only her coat had gotten him to stop squirming and keep him warm. Her eagle kept watch over him. She felt bad for Grim, too. Cramped spaces were never meant for such a majestic bird of prey, even one as gentle and docile as he.
The rainfall was like a distant hum or the beat of a heart. She glanced back at him. It was hard to tell, but his eyes were closed. She sighed and turned her attention back to the road.
The traffic light was red.
Not that she cared at this point whether or not a cop would pull her over for violations. If the world were truly ending, then the rules didn't matter anymore.
No, she shouldn't think like that. That was a sign of losing faith. She couldn't lose faith. People depend on her to have faith, to be strong.
But she stepped on the gas anyway, and they shot off past the red light.
Past that point, the view became grimmer, with little remaining lights to shine the path ahead, the lamps having gone dead. The streets were mostly empty. What cars there were were abandoned, some still running, a few crashed and mangled. On the distant horizon was a bright glow—a city burning, crumbling under the firestorm unleashed by their foes, the devastation made more poignant by the lack of illumination.
What city was that? Was that Baltimore? Were they still stuck in Maryland? Were they even following the interstate anymore? She had been so focused on getting to New York City that she hadn't even bothered to check.
Faltering, she took her foot off the pedal, and they slowed to a stop. She looked around, her hands clutching the steering wheel. The silence was deafening. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw her own haggard face staring back at her.
Some hero I am, she thought, turning her gaze downward. She didn't notice the hand snaking over the seat until it touched her shoulder.
"It will be okay," the voice was soft and gentle. But she flinched away, shaking her head.
"I...I don't know anymore."
"I believe in you. Always.... And I will always be here. Always."
A moment passed. She sighed, leaning her forehead against the steering wheel.
"Hey," Commander Halsey whispered, his fingers lightly caressing her hair. "Cheer up. I believe I still have that 'From Elvis in Memphis' tape somewhere in the glove compartment. Go play it... and pretend, for a while, that we're just driving home on a normal day."
She raised her head, looking at him in the rearview mirror. He was smiling. Grimacing, wincing occasionally, but still smiling through his pain.
"...Okay, I'll play it for you," she sifted through the various items—a few maps and pamphlets, a pack of cigarettes, and some old cassette tapes, one of which she picked up.
"No, play it for us," he said, his tone still gentle.
"...Alright."
She couldn't describe the feeling as the song started. The speaker may be creaky, and the tape didn't age well, but the song was clear and flowing—and, most importantly, hopeful.
"True Love Travels on a Gravel Road" was as much a message from the Commander as it was from Elvis, and it was all she needed to hear.
How many girls choose cotton dress worlds
When they could have satins and lace?
She leaned back and closed her eyes before setting her foot back on the pedal, the car starting off down the dark, desolate highway.
The torrent hitting the windshield didn't sound so bad anymore.
The hand on her shoulder was not as cold or as heavy.
Grim was quiet. Her bow was ready, just in case.
And we'll stay together no matter how strong the wind blows
That was as much a promise from her as it was from Elvis, and it was all he needed to hear.
***
This particular ghost town was just like the others suddenly springing up in the wake of the onslaught.
Enterprise stopped the car in front of a pharmacy with smashed-up windows. She mulled going in and taking some supplies. Having to feel like she was reduced to a mere scavenger didn't sit well with her, but the Commander needed proper treatment, and what she had no longer suffice.
She opened the car door, stepped out into the cold air, and walked to the back door. She ordered Grim to watch over him. The bird, no ordinary animal, could easily overpower anything human and was keen enough to alert her to threats from anything else.
"Stay here," she said, opening the back door. "Don't get out of the car."
"Enterprise...don't...leave..."
He was half-asleep, lazily tossing and turning.
"I'll be back soon, I promise," she said.
"Don't go..."
She sighed, reaching out to touch his cheek. His skin was ice-cold. She could almost feel his pain as if it were her own.
"I'm sorry. I have to."
"Don't...leave me..."
"I'll be back."
Figuring it would be pointless to keep the back-and-forth going, she shut the door.
"Look after him," she told Grim again, and the eagle nodded.
The store had been ransacked, but she hoped there were some useful things left. She didn't need much, just enough to ease the suffering of her...
...
...
She shook her head. Now was not the time for sentiment.
The place had no power, just like the outside. And the darkness inside was almost complete. Almost.
The flashlight she brought, underpowered though it was, cut through the darkness, casting shadows across the rows of empty shelves.
She found some gauze first, then bandages, which she placed into her bag. Painkillers were in the next aisle, which she grabbed a couple of boxes of. Antibiotics were harder to find, but when she smashed open a cabinet and shined the flashlight inside, there were a couple of bottles. She snatched them up. There were candies and energy bars, too, which she took, along with jerky for Grim.
Voices, whispers—maybe imaginary, maybe not—echoed in the darkness, making her turn her flashlight around, the beam scanning the shelves and the shadows.
"Who's there?" She demanded, not as firmly as she'd have liked, and the noise ceased. She shook her head and moved on.
But as she stepped outside, feeling the drizzle fall upon her, she couldn't shake off the feeling that she was going crazy.
Her walk back was brisk. It would have been faster if she had run, but that might have made her look like a lunatic.
And she didn't want the Commander to think less of her.
She opened the back door. Commander Halsey was still lying down. His skin was still cold. His hand was on the empty space next to him, reaching for her, and she reached back.
"Grim, watch over us," she said, and the eagle nodded, settling down into a vigil.
"I'm here," she said. "Let me take care of you. Please."
The hand squeezed harder, harder than ever, and she squeezed back.
"Please," he muttered, and his grip slackened.
"I'm not going anywhere."
She replaced the bandages after applying a fresh dressing and antiseptic, but the coldness and the stickiness made her shiver. She was no doctor, but the wound didn't look so bad now. The painkillers did an excellent job of keeping the fever down.
He declined food, saying she needed it more than he did. So she ate, and so was Grim.
It must be just fatigue, she told herself. They've been running and fighting nonstop for who knows how long. The voices were just the results of fatigue. She wasn't going crazy.
"Sleep, Commander," Enterprise said, stroking his head.
"I'm fine. You should...sleep, Enterprise. I can't be holding you back. I need to protect you, too."
"You are protecting me just by being here."
"I don't want...to hold you back."
"You are not holding me back. You're protecting me."
"I want...to do more than protect you, Enterprise. I...need to make up for my mistakes."
She shook her head. "There is nothing to make up. We did our best, and we'll do better. It will be okay. I'll make it okay."
A squawk from the front made her turn her head. Grim beat his wings a few times, his feathers rising.
"What is it, Grim?" Enterprise asked. The eagle didn't seem distressed, so she decided not to worry about it.
Grim seemingly pointed at the front seat with his wings, and Enterprise understood.
"You want me to take a rest?" She asked again. The bird, ever remarkably intelligent, had shown that he was capable of understanding her, even when she spoke as if she were talking to a human, and he nodded.
"You...will keep watch?" She asked. Another nod.
"See? Even Grim wants you to take a break. Just close your eyes for a moment. It'll be alright. You'll see."
Enterprise hesitated, her eyes darting between the Commander and Grim.
"Just for a minute, then. Keep watch over him, Grim. He is counting on you."
The eagle squawked and spread his wings.
"Good boy."
"Close your eyes, Enterprise," Commander Halsey whispered.
"Okay," she lay down, resting her head against the side of the seat. From behind, his hand reached out, his fingers entwining with hers.
"You are our best hope, Enterprise."
Such words had often been said, and often, their weight was greater than what she could bear.
But from his lips, the words felt lighter.
"Thank you," she whispered back.
"It will be okay. Close your eyes. Sleep."
And, with a smile on her lips, she did.
***
She woke up to the light of dawn, Grim still keeping a silent vigil on the roof of the car.
That dream—she could only remember scant details—was already slipping through her mind like sand through her fingers.
It was not a nightmare; she remembered that much. She could recall hands joined and feet moving. The few notes of a song.
Details were fading, but she knew better than to chase them.
"You're up."
Commander Halsey was already up and about, and his smile was a welcome sight. He sounded stronger than he did yesterday, his cheeks pinkish, his hands a little warmer.
"How are you feeling?" Enterprise asked.
"Much better. Thank you."
"I'm just doing what anyone would do."
"You saved my life. I owe you, Enterprise."
"No, you don't."
He didn't respond, his gaze turning back to the road.
"The world is still there," he mused.
"Indeed."
Thanking whatever forces that be for their fortune, Enterprise started the engine. She figured they could stop by the gas station, since they had the chance, and they didn't have any other plan.
It was a simple, unremarkable gas station, the pumps still standing, the windows intact.
"Let's fill up the tank," she said, stepping out of the car, "and then we can be on our way."
The Commander nodded, following her out.
"Commander, wait, I'll help you—"
"It's fine. Don't worry about me."
"But—"
"Enterprise," Commander Halsey sighed, and then his gaze softened, "thank you for worrying. But I am fine. Really."
"O-okay."
She walked over to the pump, her pace slow. She couldn't bring herself to walk normally, not with the Commander walking right behind her, not after last night.
"Here we are," she said, putting the nozzle in the gas tank. The fuel level steadily climbed, filling up the meter.
"Hey," he spoke, his tone casual, "we need to fill up the canister, too."
"Oh, yeah."
They had an extra gas canister. It was the one the Commander told her to take from the abandoned truck.
"I'll get it," Commander Halsey said, and before Enterprise could stop him, he was already making his way to the back of the car.
"Commander! Wait! At least let me help—"
"It's fine, I got this."
"I'm just worried about—"
"Enterprise, please, don't worry. I'll be okay."
Only then did she notice he had taken back his M1911. It was secure in the holster hanging by his hip.
"Just let me help. I know how you feel about being a burden. So, please, let me help. You have helped me a lot. I have to do this. For you."
She was torn between telling him not to and letting him do it. In the end, she let him go.
"...Okay, sorry for making a scene," she muttered.
"Don't be. I know how hard this is. You've done well. Thank you."
She let go, and he continued on his way, taking the spare canister out of the trunk.
Enterprise didn't like seeing him struggling with the heavy container, but he had his pride, even though he didn't say it. He was a proud man and not without his share of faults. But he was a good man, and that was all she could ask for.
She couldn't fault him for being stubborn. After all, she was, too.
So, she looked away, pretending not to see him struggling with the heavy container and the can.
When he had stowed the can safely, he turned to her.
"While we're here, might as well wash up a bit. This looks like a good place for that."
He sounded a bit short of breath, and he was leaning against the car. Haggard and disheveled, but the focus in his eyes was undimmed.
"Pretend like it's just a normal day, huh? Just another road trip. No one is after us, and the world isn't ending," Enterprise mused, finishing filling the tank.
"Yeah," he replied. "I guess that was what I meant. Not...really."
Commander Halsey didn't want to stay behind, so she made sure the car was locked before they headed over to the small rest area, which had a picnic table and a bench, a bathroom, and a water tap. There was a mart, too, the doors wide open. Fortunately, the shelves had not been entirely emptied, and they would come in handy.
The sun had risen higher, the rain gone. Enterprise went to the ladies' room while Commander Halsey waited outside.
She finally had a good, long look at her face in the mirror. Grime and soot caked onto her skin. A tangled mess of hair. Her coat had patches of dirt and blood. Not hers. The Commander's. For a moment, she wished she were the one bleeding instead, but she realized it would just add to his burdens.
A worn-out fighter, not a hero.
Not a hero.
She reached for the faucet. The water was lukewarm, and there was no soap, but she splashed her face and hands anyway.
Her superior had seen her like this—but no more. He didn't judge her, no, but she, deep down, was ashamed, even if he didn't see her as anything but a hero.
There were showers, too, but they didn't have the time. So she made do with splashing her face with more water and drying her hands.
She returned outside to find Commander Halsey sitting at the table; his sleeves rolled up, his collar loosened. At times, his hand would reach for his injured side, and he would wince. But the grimace would not linger. An Ithaca 37 was laid on the table in front of him, its body full of scratches, its wooden stock a bit chipped.
"Found it lying around with spare slugs. Might come in handy," he explained when she inquired. "Feeling better?"
"I'm okay."
"Good. Let's check that store and then get going."
"Right."
Disarray reigned in the mart. Shelves were toppled, and products were spilled all over the floor. Some shelves had been cleared, but not enough to render the store useless. It was a pleasant surprise to see clothes being offered there, though the selection was limited to just T-shirts and undergarments. Commander Halsey suggested they change into something clean and dry. They could put their uniforms back later when they had washed them.
Most of the garments were thankfully plain, and she picked a black one. He did the same.
He changed right away, allowing Enterprise a glimpse of the bandages wrapped around his midriff. No more blood seeping through, and the relief was such that she forgot her embarrassment and smiled.
"Sorry, I changed here to make it quicker," he said sheepishly. "You, though, could change in the restroom. I'll wait out here."
"Uh, no, it's fine," she said, removing her coat and unbuttoning her dress shirt. She tried to look unaffected, but her cheeks felt hot, and her heartbeat was speeding up.
"Okay," he turned around and looked away.
At least he was still a gentleman. But this was no time to contemplate admiration.
Taking off the uniform felt almost like a baptism, and she welcomed the fresh air, cool against her bare skin.
She put the T-shirt on. It was a size too large and didn't fit as well as the uniform did. The cotton was soft and smelled of detergent, a far cry from the coarse, rough texture of the uniform, stained by blood and gunpowder.
"You can look now," she said, and he turned back.
"Well, it's not exactly the latest fashion, but it'll do. I'm afraid our uniforms are a mess," the Commander noted, and she couldn't help but chuckle.
"Yeah."
"Anyway, shall we?"
"Yes, let's go."
More supplies were taken, including bottled water and some food. They would need as many as they could get. Toiletries, too.
"Alright, let's get going," Enterprise said, looking outside. Still sunny, but not exactly a bright day. In fact, it felt almost wrong.
She shook her head. It was no time to ponder feelings. She had to focus on the road ahead.
***
What awaited them at the parking lot was not the sight they were expecting.
A girl—a child—was crying in front of the car. Her hair was dirty, and her dress was stained and torn. Grim was hovering above her as if unsure of what to do.
"Hey, hey, don't cry. Don't cry," Commander Halsey was quick to kneel beside the girl, his hands touching her shoulders, gently rubbing them.
"What happened? What's wrong?"
"Da-da....D—"
"Where's your father?"
"Da...Da..."
"We'll help you. Tell us what happened. Please."
"Da...Dad..."
"Hey, it's okay. You're safe. We'll help you. You're not alone. Don't cry."
"Da..."
"Come, now. We're here."
He took the girl's hands in his. Her tiny fingers were pale and seemingly cold.
"Da...dead..."
"Dead? Did someone hurt you?"
"Bl...black..."
"Black? Black what?"
Grim had soared even higher, and Enterprise knew what that meant. He'd noticed something they hadn't, and his keen senses had saved them more than once.
She could hear it now. The faint, buzzing, and mechanical trill. The noise was growing louder.
Closer.
That dot on the horizon she saw was not a bird.
"Into the car!" Enterprise ordered. "Hurry! Get her inside!"
"Inside, now," the Commander was urging the shaking girl. "It's alright, we'll get you somewhere safe. Don't cry. You're not alone."
The shape was becoming more discernible now. Its wings were unmistakable, and Enterprise knew it would soon be upon them.
A drone, for lack of a better word. The military had taken to calling those fliers that, though their form was more alien, more grotesque than the familiar shape of any aircraft Enterprise had ever known.
Sleek and jet black, their only discernible feature was the single red, glowing eye in the center of their head. They had only a single weapon, and that one was all they needed.
She couldn't afford to allow it to get close, and the only way to do that was to shoot it down.
She ducked when it dove toward her, the energy beam missing her by a few feet, the shot leaving a smoking scar on the pavement.
Enterprise manifested her bow and charged a shot, aiming for the eye. The blast struck the drone, which tumbled and crashed. It tried to right itself, and she was already charging another shot, letting it fly and hitting the drone square in the head. It went down and skidded, leaving a trail of smoke.
It was of little challenge by itself. But the fact that it was here could only mean its kin would be soon, too.
Grim, who had wisely evaded engagement with it, returned to them. Commander Halsey and the girl were already in the backseat, his arms draped protectively around her.
Enterprise ran and jumped into the driver's seat just as Grim flew inside, perching beside her.
"Hold tight!"
She revved the engine and pressed her foot down on the pedal, the tires squealing.
The Commander was shielding the girl. His eyes were fixed on the rear-view mirror.
"Enterprise..."
"I know. Just keep her safe."
She was already going 100 miles per hour, not intent on slowing down, even if that pushed the car to its limits. The road was straight, the surface was smooth, and the gas gauge was full.
A glance at the backseat showed the Commander was trying to calm the girl. He had given her his jacket, and her sobs were quieting down, though the shaking was still there.
"It's okay, it's okay. I got you."
The car was going faster, the scenery around them blurring. The sky was cloudy, the sunlight weak, and the air was cool.
"Damn it!"
Another drone was catching up. The Commander cocked the Ithaca 37 and rolled down the window.
"Keep your head down, and cover your ears!" He instructed the girl, and she did as told.
"Commander, you shouldn't—"
"Don't worry about me. Just focus on the driving. I'll take care of this one."
"Okay."
The drone was approaching fast, and the Commander braced himself.
"Wait for it..."
The barrel was pointing upward. The drone was right behind them.
A bang, a muzzle flash. The slug hit the drone square in the head, shattering the eye. It lost balance and veered, tumbling before exploding.
"Good job," Enterprise praised. "Now stay put; you're not in any shape for more action."
"J-just lucky," Commander Halsey groaned. The recoil had undoubtedly hurt him, Enterprise could tell.
"...Thank you, Commander."
"No problem."
Another glance. The girl had calmed down. Her sobs had ceased, though the tears were still there. The Commander was hugging her close, murmuring comforting words.
"Da-da...Dad..."
"Shhh...you're safe. I'm sorry about your dad. We'll find somewhere safe."
"Dad...gone..."
"I know. But we're here. You're not alone."
"Mmhmm."
"Don't cry. Don't cry. There, there, shhh...it's okay."
His hand was on the girl's head, caressing her, and she leaned into his touch, her body relaxing.
"We're not alone, and neither are you. Okay?"
"O-okay."
Enterprise smiled, her hands gripping the wheel more tightly.
"I hope the others are okay," she said. Her sisters, thankfully, were stationed in New York in the first place, so their safety was secured. The thought was the only comfort she could draw right now.
"You KANSENs are strong...much stronger than us. You are humanity's hope. We...I believe in you."
Believe.
The word stuck with her, echoing through her mind.
"Believe."
Believe in yourself.
"Enterprise?"
"Huh?"
"Is everything alright?"
"I'm fine. Sorry. I'm just...a little lost in thought. Don't worry."
"If you say so."
He didn't push, of course. He wouldn't.
The world had changed. People were changing. But some things would always remain the same.
"I...will do my best, Commander. To believe. And to protect."
"And that is why I am here. So you can."
The sun was at its zenith, casting its light on the world, breaking through the clouds.
The girl was already fast asleep, her breathing steady, and her petite body finally relaxed. The Commander had pulled his coat over her, stroking her hair like a parent would.
No more pursuers were following them, and Enterprise eased the pressure on the pedal.
Long as the road was, it wasn't lonely.