They would reach Raptor by dusk. And then they would know for sure, Isaac consoled himself, one way or the other. It would only be a few more hours, and they would finally have some clarity.
It was a good thing, too, because more than two weeks of not knowing what had become of his family and the rest of the rebellion was about all he could take.
It’d turned out that the four days of rations Carlos had estimated had stretched another full week – putting them at 11 days in their dank, overcrowded shelter – but then the batteries in their flashlights and lanterns had started to give out, and finally he’d relented. Certainly none of them could stand the thought of staying in there any longer in the pitch dark. But upon emerging out into the world, they discovered that the wind was blowing in a direction that made Carlos nervous, so they’d taken a circuitous route back to Raptor in an attempt to avoid as much radiation exposure as possible. What should have been a half-day journey turned into five, but Isaac was just grateful that it was almost over.
Alessa emerged from the trees to his right, wiping her mouth with her sleeve, a sickly pallor bleaching her countenance.
“Again?” he asked in sympathy.
She nodded. She’d been puking several times a day for weeks now. Even the fresh air didn’t seem to be helping – but then again, if it was radiation poisoning, traipsing through the woods where who-knows-how-much fallout had settled over the past two weeks probably wasn’t going to make it any better.
He waited for her to catch up and wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulders as they walked. She leaned into him, drained; she was breathing more heavily than he would have expected. He squeezed her tighter, trying to take the weight off her feet. She seemed appreciative.
After some time, she spoke. “At least I haven’t had any more visions today.”
“That’s good,” Isaac nodded. The disturbing waves of feeling – from the Stuck, who seemed to be prowling ever closer to their position – had been coming more and more frequently since they’d set out for Raptor. Thankfully, they had not yet been attacked. But between that looming threat and the anxious anticipation of reaching Raptor, everyone was on edge.
Suddenly, up ahead, Carlos stopped and held out an arm in warning. The line of soldiers behind him froze, drawing their weapons and peering through the trees on either side.
Isaac traded quizzical looks with Alessa, who thankfully did not indicate any sense of the Stuck being near, before Carlos caught his eye and motioned for him to join him at the front of the party.
Isaac jogged quickly up the ranks, closing the short distance in near-silence with the thick layer of ash dampening his steps, each boot hitting the ground with a small puff.
As he reached the front of their procession, it became clear what Carlos had spied: tire tracks.
Isaac motioned towards the tracks, about 30 yards in the distance where a break in the woods indicated there had once been a road. “Paragon?” he suggested in whisper.
Carlos nodded. “Multiple vehicles.”
“When?”
Carlos shrugged. “Cover me.”
Isaac raised his rifle to his shoulder and scanned the tree line as Carlos dashed ahead to get a better look. Emerging into the roadway, he crouched for a moment and ran his fingers through the marks in the ash. Then he stood up and walked back, more relaxed than before.
Approaching the squad, Carlos called out, “At ease,” and the tension electrifying the air evaporated, everyone dropping their weapons to their sides.
“Not fresh?” Isaac confirmed.
“Maybe last week.”
Isaac released a long, low whistle and gave Carlos an appreciative nod. If they hadn’t stayed in the shelter so long, they might have run right into them. “You were expecting them?” he asked.
Carlos grunted. “Let’s just say I wasn’t not expecting them.”
They’d all been wondering, of course, if Paragon was behind the explosion. But then again, the rebels had jerry-rigged a nuclear reactor, so that was always a possibility as well – maybe they’d made some kind of ill-fated mistake. The presence of Paragon’s troops, though, indicated to Isaac that they were probably somehow involved.
He returned to Alessa, and the party marched on, two by two, in solemn, restless columns like a funeral procession. Eventually they found themselves on a familiar path cutting through the forest, and before long, they’d reached the picnic space in the wooded area north of the complex.
“Almost there, Less,” Isaac breathed. He turned to her, his eyes imploring. “We’re going to find something, right? They can’t possibly all be gone.”
The jade of Alessa’s eyes flashed up at him, but he couldn’t read what he found there – or maybe he just didn’t want to. He couldn’t give up hope just yet, though the knowledge that Paragon was clearly aware of what had happened left a lingering pit in his stomach.
They plodded on for the next 20 minutes in silence, the thick layer of ash at their feet muffling not only the sound of their trudging but also any optimistic thoughts that may have bubbled up in their chests. But with each step the tension amplified, until the squad finally emerged from the trees all but quivering.
And there they found… nothing.
Isaac rubbed his eyes, disbelieving. He was standing on pavement – he couldn’t quite see it through all the ash, but he could feel it, solid, under his feet, a distinct change from the forest floor. But where Raptor Defense Systems should have stood, there was just a massive depression in the ground filled with indistinguishable gray rubble. A crater.
He felt Alessa clutching his arm, and looked to her for confirmation – was this really real?
He found her frozen in place, eyes scrunched closed, a grimace of pain lining her face and her other hand clenched over her heart.
“Less?” he panted in concern.
Finally, she moved, just a barely perceptible shake of her head.
She opened her eyes, and the despair was etched right there, like disfiguring scratches on emeralds. She didn’t even have to say the words.
“They’re all gone,” she breathed.