Chapter 55
Smoke filled air, rubbled buildings, pillaged towns, buildings that were wrecked bombed and ransacked. He was supposed to protect this. Not with sandbags, but with his life now. Because the thing was, until the next big leveling, it was all water coming up, nothing you could do but scrabble higher. And guess what? Everyone wanted higher land.
And here in the East, around the industry and power and energy, the factories full of making shit to do shit with, this place, it was what everyone wanted. Because the last one standing with a factory, they win.
And here was Beckett, last six months of his six year tour, and his job was to make sure that he was one of the last men. Or die trying.
He could have told her of course that there had been a change of orders. That his battalion wasn’t doing sandbags anymore. They were doing this — fighting over the scraps that were left.
But really what was the point — It was like he was gone already. Heavy heart, smoky lungs, shit to conquer. Nah, better to keep this to himself. Tell her after the fact. If he survived. . .
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