3 YEARS EARLIER
After breakfast, I sat in the main room and stared at the white sheet covering Nigel Kent’s body. We would leave early the following morning to return to base, without Hunter and the General, and I had noticed that I had been avoiding this space.
I memorized the image: the white sheet and the contours of a body underneath. I promised myself I wouldn’t fail anyone like I had Kent—that I wouldn’t let anybody die because of this gods-forsaken mutation ever again. So, I watched, until my palpitations subsided and the sweat on my neck and back cooled.
There was a time in my life when I wanted nothing but to be a dual function soldier. It was my ticket to this mission, 3B. But now, I somehow knew that my time as a dual function soldier was ending. I wasn’t really exceptional at anything, and it made me feel useless. Yes, I had a talent for medical procedures—but I knew little besides the basics. And yes, I could fight and protect—my tactical skill was also fine. Only all to a certain extent.
I was a soldier who was exceptional at following orders. And when the person who gave the orders fell away, I panicked—hadn’t known what to do.
The white sheet blurred, and I started blinking. If I had known what to do and had been better, I might have been able to save Nigel Kent’s life.
“Lieutenant?”
I didn’t react. To be frank, I didn’t even realize he was speaking to me until he said, “Raven?”
My head turned sideways, and I saw Major General Locke, Jordan, standing beside me. I blinked again and rubbed my sore neck. I had lost all sense of time, especially since the rest of the group had been avoiding this space as much as possible.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
I turned to him fully. “Ever heard of exposure therapy?”
Jordan tsked. “Ever heard about self-destructive behavior?”
I squared my shoulders and arched a brow. “Call it what you want. It serves a purpose for me.”
“What purpose is that?” he scoffed.
“To serve as an example.”
“An example for who? You?”
“Just let it go.” I turned away from him.
Jordan stepped closer and lay a hand on my shoulder. “Stop punishing yourself. You already have a hard time as it is.”
“I don’t have a hard time,” I curtly replied and clamped my lips shut.
He raised a brow. “That would be alarming—if I didn’t know you were lying.”
Rolling my eyes, I tried to walk past him, but he took hold of my arm. “Raven… Sorry, all right? I’ll respect it if you don’t want to talk about it. But please stop fooling yourself.”
“What is it to you? You’ve known me for a day.”
Jordan pulled a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Weird, huh? Wanting to help another person? To be kind?”
My hands started shaking, and I felt the pent-up frustration and fatigue coursing through my body. I couldn’t meet his gaze. “You’re right.” I tried to pass him again, but he stopped me and pulled me against his chest.
Shock immobilized me, but I let my eyes fall shut when he laid a gentle hand on the back of my head. My body started heaving out of nowhere—tears were streaming down my face, soaking his shirt.
“Sorry,” I choked, frustrated.
“Don’t worry. It’s all washable.”
Even in my meltdown, I laughed. “I meant—”
“I know,” he interrupted me, affectionately smoothing my hair. “I know.”
* * *
NOW
After the researchers found the serum three years ago, the army had made grand plans for the Special Shadow Unit. In the last few years, we have tried to push back mutant colonies with the help of the serum. The focus of the mission unit had been spreading the serum under mutant colonies. And because there was finally a new radar technology available that didn’t get disturbed by mutants, they deployed hover planes to spread the food injected with the serum.
The research group, the army, the government, and the leadership of this mission—including Nikolai Zaregova—all agreed to a cooperative plan regarding the future of the SSU. They had extended the mission for at least another five years. I had worked back on that base for half of those years, during which we had tried to push back the mutants and the shadow plains with them.
Pilots would fly over the areas with high markers of mutant activity and colonies, dropping the injected food there, hoping every mutant in the area would digest some of it.
There were also soldiers needed on the ground that went to these marked areas and searched for younger, surviving mutants to extract for research. Perhaps, one day, they’d get a chance at a semi-normal existence.
We also had to check whether all full-grown mutants were dead or gone. That’s where I came in. I had overseen large parts of the teams that went onto the shadow plains—often going with them. But I’d grown tired of the monotonous task ever since the vaccine had officially been approved. The world was changing, and the army changed with it.
A rapid knock sounded on my door at the mission base, and I threw the letter I had just received on the coffee table. The rooms I’d gotten upon my return were three times as large as the ones I left the base from years ago.
Before I reached the door, it had already opened, and Kelian perched his head along the corner.
“Yo. What are you up to?” he asked, stepping into the room without invitation. He took in the place before looking at me and sighed. “I can’t get over the difference in our rooms. Such hierarchic bullshit.”
But when he really looked at me, his expression turned sour. He strode over with long strides and took my face between his hands as he tipped my head back a little. “What the hell did you do, Raven?”
I shrugged, a smile tugging on my lips. “You know, eating a little, getting some sleep, staying out of the sun.”
“It is not fucking funny,” he snarled. “Have you been going to that place again?”
“What place?” I asked innocently.
Kelian wasn’t amused.
“What if I have?”
He dragged a hand through his wine-red hair, eyeing the bruises on my skin and the cuts on my arm and cheek. “Why the hell do you keep doing that?”
I chuckled. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”
He didn’t think that was funny either, and looked straight through me. “You’re nervous, aren’t you? Have been ever since you came back here.”
I sat back down on the couch and broke eye contact. “What would I be nervous about?”
He connected his fingertips and raised both brows.
“What?” I asked him explicitly.
“You tell me.”
I sighed.
“You know you can talk to me.”
“I do,” I agreed. Just not about everything.
“So, why don’t you?”
He knew me too well. My best friend, now a lieutenant colonel, had been by my side for a large part of the last couple of years. I was forever grateful to him for that. But man, he could be an overbearing mother hen.
I scraped over the wooden side table with my nails, trying to leave a mark.
“Just spit it out,” he said.
I dropped my hand in my lap and looked at him. “Ever thought about the possibility that I might not want to talk about certain things?”
“You’ve been absent lately.” He tutted. “What happened, Raven? Why are you so dead set on hurting yourself?”
My gaze darkened as I glared at him in warning. I was not trying to hurt myself.
“I see I’ve hit a nerve.”
My jaw clenched, and I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t you always?”
Kelian threw his hands in the air and said, “Fine, I’ll stop. But—”
I watched him from the corner of my eyes.
“You know I just want to help, right? I want you to feel good, Raven.”
“I know.”
“Then I’ll shut up about it.” Kelian clamped his lips shut and pretended like he locked them and threw away the key. “But you should stop going to that place.”
I rolled my eyes again. “I’ll think about it,” I murmured, but we both knew I wouldn’t.
“Right.”
“Stop worrying so much,” I said. “I’m fine.”
Quiet settled in the room for a brief moment.
“On another note,” I said, handing him the letter that I’d just been reading—glad for a change of conversation. “Our chief general has summoned me.”
Kelian unfolded the paper. “He sent you a letter? Why wouldn’t his secretary just message you?”
I shrugged. “Old school guy?”
He skimmed over the text, inhaling deeply. “Keep me posted?”
I nodded, taking back the piece of paper. “Sure. Why did you come anyway?”
“I came to check if you’d like to grab a drink tonight with the group?” Kelian shrugged.
“Can’t,” I sighed. “I’m visiting my dad today.”
“Right.” He stood. “Give him my regards. I’ll get back to work then.”
My smile was tight. “Thanks for stopping by, Kel.”
He nodded, looked away, and clenched his jaw. Then he turned around and waved his hand in the air before opening the door and turning around the corner.
I pulled into my father’s driveway and parked the car. He lived just an hour’s drive from the capital in a small village that still had a water tank. It was colder there than in the capital, where sunlight lamps burned bright at all moments of the day.
My father lived in a charming one-story house I bought for him short of a year ago during one of my breaks: small, with a white fence and a bed of flowers in varying colors in the garden designed to survive colder climates. Perfect for him on his own.
I rang the bell. I hadn’t told him I was coming, so it would be a surprise.
The door opened, and my father’s face lit up. His skin seemed to have wrinkled since the last time I saw him. But that was the only sign of his age because he had remained the same man from twenty years ago—full of life and vigor.
“Raven!” he said and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug.
I felt Benji jump against my legs, and I let go of my father to give him some attention. His tongue hung limply from his mouth, and he wagged his tail playfully as I rewarded him with a rub behind the ears. “You’ve been good to my papa, haven’t you?”
“He has,” my father agreed solemnly. “Come in, come in,” he said as he pushed me inside. He whistled at Benji, who had already disappeared further into the street.
Once inside, I got tea with bucket loads of sugar. Just how I liked it.
“How are you doing?” my father asked as he sat down with a bowl of homemade cookies.
I picked one and took a bite, relishing the familiar taste. “I’m doing well.”
“Life back at the capital already chafing at you, my dear?”
I took a bite of a cookie that said I didn’t want to speak about my return. I also didn’t talk to my father about the missions I went on—especially regarding the shadow plains. He knew, but I spared him the details. It could be… a lot.
He chuckled. “You need to get a life outside of work. Stop going on these long missions. It can’t be good for the soul.”
“I was on a mission with friends,” I said around a mouthful of cookie. If you counted having Kelian over for a year and Cardan for half of that. “Besides, I have more responsibilities now that I’m a general, Papa.”
“I know, I know, and I’m so proud of you. But work isn’t everything.”
My mouth pursed. “It is to me.” What else did I have anyway, besides my father?
“Well,” he said. “Let’s start by not going away for years on end.”
“All right.” I wasn’t planning to, anyway.
I looked around the house, spotting the only picture of the three of us that had survived the trip to the west: me, my father, and my mother. The memories of her seemed to fade with each passing year, but the afternoon we took that picture was etched in my brain.
“I miss her,” I told him as I looked at it.
My father nodded gravely, and I felt my heart soften as he said, “Me too, every day.”
There were some women in his town, widowed like him, that he could build a happy life with. And he had tried. But his love for my mother seemed to cast too big of a shadow over anyone trying to take up space in my father’s life.
I didn’t worry, though. Together with Benji and his bazillion other hobbies, my father was never bored or unhappy.
Looking at the other pictures of the two of us, I smiled. My dad was my best friend—never stopped playing with me like life was one big adventure and treasures could be waiting just around the corner. He gifted me a normal childhood amid chaos.
Some time later, I hugged my father tightly and promised him to visit soon. My father was the most important person in the world to me, and I hadn’t seen him nearly as much as I wanted.
Now it was time to go back to Barak. For real, this time.
I looked at the star on my jacket. I was tired of hiding in the corner. It was time I started acting like the general I was supposed to be. Show them why I earned my title.
It was time I stepped back into the light.