"I remember those hazel eyes; I remember them all too well. Sometimes, before falling asleep, I close my eyes and, even though I was only thirteen back then, I feel the memories fading away. So many things have happened that make her face blur.
It's hard to forget someone you love so much. First, her face was gone, then the little details, like her scent. But what hurt the most was losing her voice. The only remaining memory is the humming of the song she used to sing to me before I slept, an echo that reverberates like constant torture.
She promised. She promised she would come back, that she'd tell me why I never knew my father... But she never returned. Her name is a taboo for me. I never mention it, I never let anyone say it.
A year ago, I lost someone else: Marlene. She took care of me when my mother wasn't around. She was the leader of the Fireflies, and they raised me as the group's prodigal son. I was the only child directly related to the high command—or well, 'the only one' in heavy air quotes, because there was another girl. I never met her; they said she was special, very special, but I never paid it any mind.
Ever since I was a child, my 'games' were with renowned military instructors. According to them, they were innocent games, but over time I understood what they really were: training. For what? To become the next leader of the Fireflies, forged from childhood, ensuring the command position would be aligned with their needs and ideologies. But none of that matters anymore, because he ruined everything.
On April 28, 2034, in an attempt to save that girl I mentioned, Joel Miller wiped out everyone, everyone who was in that hospital. No one survived. Marlene... he shot Marlene in the forehead. I never understood why. That girl was supposed to be the cure, the solution to this fucking world we live in.
But no. He sacrificed everything for her. He sacrificed the whole damn world for that girl. And here I am, a soldier trained to lead an army, to be the best. Almost without a purpose.
Almost."
March 12, 2035.
Joshua, a boy with dark brown hair, a hard gaze, and hazel eyes, lifted the pen from his journal. He stared at it, lost in thought, wondering why the hell he was even doing this.
A voice pulled him from his stupor. "Joshua, we're almost there." It was the soft, calm voice of a tall girl with Asian features, who could easily have been 1.80 meters tall. "Oh, are you doing that thing Spencer recommended?" she said, glancing at the journal.
"None of your business," the boy replied quickly, closing the journal and shoving it into his backpack. He composed himself, pretending nothing had happened, and looked at her again. "Anyway, what the hell is wrong with the captain? Sending the four of us on a suicide mission... without any certainty that we'll even find Miller around here."
With a sarcastic laugh, the girl told him, "Easy, kid. We're just now arriving in Salt Lake. We'll grab supplies from an old ex-Firefly camp and then head out to where he is." Ignoring Joshua's potential reply, she fixed her attention on the road.
The Humvee made a constant noise due to its worn-out suspension; every pothole felt like a mountain. The trunk, filled with military supplies, gave the impression that the vehicle and its occupants were a methodical, professional, almost "lethal" team.
While many scattered groups of Fireflies adopted new identities, they had remained united as a new generation, thirsting for revenge for what had happened.
Up front, at the wheel, a dark-skinned man with a Latino appearance broke the silence. "It's all going to be okay, kid," he said, focusing on the signs that announced their arrival in the city.
Slightly irritated, Joshua replied, "Why do you guys call me 'kid'? I'm seventeen." He huffed and looked out the window at the destroyed city. "Forget my outburst. But, what the hell is with this city? It's abandoned, but it's..."
"Beautiful," a more mature woman in the passenger seat responded. Contemplating the beauty of nature consuming the buildings, she added, "Don't get used to it. In the winter, this place will be hell."
And suddenly, a comfortable and reassuring silence, like the calm that precedes a terrible storm