Felix wished he could have screamed at Lolita. Forty-five couldn't raise his arm higher because he was injured on the race track. Any outburst would have landed him in prison, and he loathed her self-righteous claims of divine favour.
Training at the centre became increasingly gruelling, and Felix was at the bottom of his class. Sgt. Seth demanded more speed, better accuracy, and heavier loads, leaving Felix feeling ill-equipped for the realities of war, much like a snowman unprepared for the summer sun.
At the end of the day, he found comfort in sleeping in his bunk bed. He'd awakened to the alarm blaring throughout the room. The ceiling's lights blinked red.
He groaned, but by now he was used to being woken abruptly in the middle of the night by sergeants.
Sgt. Seth yelled, "Asses out of rack! Everyone, get dressed!"
Everyone rushed to the locker room and quickly changed into their soldiers' uniforms. They filed back into the bunker room and stood next to their beds.
"Follow me outside." Sgt. Seth turned around, and Felix dutifully trekked outside behind him. The cold air made Felix shiver, and his breath puffed out before him.
Sgt. Seth said, "Numbers from one to one hundred come with me."
They fell in line and followed Sgt. Seth to a truck. "I've to take off your bracelets before you can board the truck. Roll up your sleeves."
Sgt. Seth unlocked each bracelet with a key and let them drop onto the pavement.
Felix asked timidly, "Sir, where's the truck taking us?"
Sgt. Seth stated impassively, "To the airport. You'll be boarding a plane to go to Grey Island."
Nervously, Felix scratched his cheek as people boarded the truck.
Sgt. Seth yelled at Felix, "Sixteen, get your ass on the truck! You can be sent to prison for refusing to follow orders."
"Sir," Felix asked, voice shaking, "where's this truck going?"
"To the airport," Seth said flatly. "Plane to Grey Island."
Felix scratched his cheek. "Sir, I don't want to die."
"Then don't," Seth said, as if survival were that easy. "Believe in yourself."
Sgt. Seth shook his head. "I didn't think Sgt. Hunter would punish you. I told him where you were. He went behind my back and punished you. I can't argue with him because he has more authority than I do."
Felix exhaled. This was the closure he needed. To know that Sgt. Seth was powerless against Sgt. Hunter.
Sgt. Seth unclipped a pin of the Intermarium flag from his jacket and held it out to Felix. "Take it. Don't ever forget where you're from." Felix accepted the pin from him and boarded the truck.
At the airfield, Felix boarded the four-engine military transport plane. Felix settled onto a red cushion next to Fox, fastened his seat belt while leaning back against the webbed netting, uncomfortably.
Fox said, "We're balls to nutsacks in here."
"I want to go home," Felix whispered.
Fox elbowed him. "Keep whining like that and they'll ship you home in a box. Problem solved."
With eight hours until they reached Grey Island, the plane took off, causing his ears to pop and his stomach to churn with motion sickness.
The metallic scent of the plane mingled with the fear clinging to him; the chilling thought of war, the horrifying image of his mother cradling an urn holding his ashes, haunted him. He wore the Intermarium pin on his jacket, a reminder of his patriotism, believing that Technate was a far more oppressive regime.
The sergeant yelled, "Everyone, get suited up! We've arrived at our location."
Felix asked the sergeant, "Sir, where are we landing?"
"The plane is not landing because it's too dangerous. You've all been taught to parachute and will be jumping off the plane."
Felix's jaw dropped open. "Para trooping? I was never taught this!"
"A couple of weeks ago, we gave a lesson on it."
"I was in the infirmary! I wasn't there for it!"
Fox approached him and clasped his hand on Felix's shoulder.
Fox said, "You can share a parachute with me."
Felix nodded. His anxiety had manifested itself in physical symptoms. He had stomach cramps and his hands were trembling. They put on their gear. Felix was attached to Fox. Felix watched as people jumped off the plane.
Fox said, "You've got to move forward."
Felix quickly shook his head, gripped by a paralyzing fear of heights. The idea of leaping from a plane at ten thousand feet was suffocating; parachuting was never a dream he had wished to fulfill.
The sharp retorts of gunfire jolted him. Bang. Bang. Bang. Three Paratroopers were shot dead. Blood poured from their heads. Their olive-green parachutes floated in the sky with their bodies dangling like string puppets.
The sergeant screamed, "Enemy fire! Don't jump off the plane!" The sergeant grabbed Fox's shoulder and pulled him away from the open hatch.
Felix felt like he was paralyzed. His stress had skyrocketed to the moon. Scared that the bullets would rip into him, making him look like shredded cheese.
Fifteen minutes passed, and the plane circled a new location.
Fox said, "Felix. It's time. We gotta jump."
Felix's mind was swamped with emotions. How did they know it was safe? Not that it was going to be safe once they landed. Technations soldiers would try to kill them. Soldiers leaped from the plane, their bodies untouched by bullets—a hopeful sign that they might survive the descent.
Felix's knees wobbled, and his sweat glistened on his pale face. Terrified, Felix looked at the ground below them.
Fox said, "Felix. We're gonna be alright. You gotta trust me."
Felix took baby steps forward before they jumped off the plane. He tried to scream as they were falling through the sky, but the air was ripped from his lungs.
Feeling nauseous, he closed his eyes. Scared that they would crash onto the ground and his head would crack open like an egg. Fox pulled the ripcord; the pilot chute was released, and the parachute deployed, jerking them violently and slowing their descent.
They landed safely. Fox's shaking hands unbuckled his parachute. Felix understood why it was named Grey Island; the landscape was dominated by dull, grey soil and rocks, stretching endlessly before them.
Felix's legs trembled; he didn't know where he was on the island, but he knew nowhere was safe.
"We've made it!" Fox said, unbuckling the parachute.
Felix was bent over with his hands clasped on his knees.
Fox asked, "Are you okay, man?"
Felix threw up on the ground. The bile burned his throat. "I'm not cut out for this."
"You don't have a choice." Fox. "We've to go to that truck; they'll give us our weapons for the battle."
You gotta have a weapon on you. It's kill or be killed. We're here to fight."
Felix looked up.
"Follow me."
They sprinted toward the truck emblazoned with the Intermarium logo.
An officer gave them rusted rifles covered in duct tape and two backpacks. Felix cringed inside. he didn't know if these guns even worked.
"Inside the backpack is food and water." He pulled a map from the pocket of his green cargo pants. "Here's a map. Stick to the route."
Felix grabbed the map from the officer's hand. Felix wanted to hop inside the truck, where his chances of survival were better.
"Letter A is your destination. Watch out for landmines." The officer said.
Felix's chest seized. "Landmines?" he whispered.
"Stay alert," the officer barked before turning to the next soldier.
Felix returned to Fox while holding the map. Fox pointed to the letter on the map. He'd exclaimed, "Felix, we're going to point A. That's where we gotta go, it says so on the map."
Felix nodded. "I'm going to take us there. I got the map."
Fox raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You know where we're supposed to go?"
Felix huffed. "I know how to read a map."
"Okay."
Felix examined the map, memorizing their route, and they headed off. They understood the importance of conserving energy, opting for a steady pace rather than a sprint, reserving their strength for any potential encounters with the enemy.
For the most part, the island was barren except for some leafless beech trees and rodents.
A mole scurried by them and disappeared into a hole. Being from Intermarium, he wasn't used to the low air pressure. He'd always wanted to travel, but going to a war-torn island was not on his wish list.
Felix whined, "Fox. I need a water break."
Fox threw up his hands, exasperated. "We've only been walking for about an hour."
"I need to take a break. I need to go to the washroom. Is there a washroom that we can go to?"
"Are you fucking kidding me? Look at where we are. We're on a battleground! You can go wherever you please."
Felix sighed. He removed his backpack and set it on the ground. He approached a tree and pissed on it.
Afterwards, he rummaged through his backpack and found a bag of trail mix, granola bars and a canister of water. Fox sat beside him cross-legged, eating mouthfuls of trail mix.
Fox said, "I wish they had given us more food."
"They want to keep our backpacks light. The more food we've, the more we've to carry."
"That's true. Already, my arms are tired from having to carry this gun everywhere I go."
Felix's mouth dropped. He watched an Intermarium military truck drive over a corpse cut in half, its organs laid on the grass. The tire crushed the dead man's skull. Blood splattered onto the gravel rock. The truck left a trail of blood behind it. Felix shut his eyes, trying to pretend he didn't see what had happened. The body must have been one of the casualties of a land mine.
Fox nudged Felix on the shoulder. "We gotta get moving. Take deep breaths and think of something else."
Felix nodded. They rose and started walking. Spent hours on the move, yet they didn't see anyone.
The salty ocean air stung Felix's nose as they reached the island's edge, where greyish-blue waves crashed against jagged rocks. He scratched his head, confusion creeping in—they'd hit a dead end.
Fox snapped, "Felix! Where the hell are we?"
Puzzled, Felix squinted at the map. "I… don't know."
"You marched us to the ass-end of the island!" Fox's voice was sharp with exasperation. "This is where we started. Congratulations, Captain Circles, you've led us nowhere."
Felix pointed at the map, defensive. "It says we're at Point A—"
"You're reading it wrong!" Fox snatched the map from Felix's hands, his eyes blazing. "From now on, I'm leading."
Felix scratched his chin, cheeks burning with embarrassment. He glanced at the ocean, spotting a military ship bristling with large-calibre guns and anti-aircraft turrets. "Why's that ship out there?" he asked, pointing.
Fox followed his gaze. "That's Cascadia's. They're sending troops to help us fight."
Felix noticed a body floating in the water. He'd removed his backpack and run into the water.
Fox screamed, "Felix! What the hell are you doing?"
Felix yelled, "I'm going to save him!"
"He's dead! You can't save him!"
The water was up to Felix's chest. Felix turned the cold body over and saw a blank expression on the man's face. A bullet was wound on his chest. Felix let go of the man's shoulders and whipped him around. Fox's eyes narrowed on Felix as he stood on the grey sand. Felix shivered because the water was cold, and he was a nervous wreck. He returned to Fox. The corpse reminded him of Logan: he had blonde hair and freckled cheeks.
Fox said, "Your clothes are wet. It wasn't smart of you to run into the ocean."
Felix cried, "I wanted to save him-"
Fox shook his head. "There are a lot of people fighting near the edge of the ocean. There are going to be a lot of dead bodies floating."
Felix inhaled sharply. Fox was right. Felix spotted another body in the ocean, a man without a head. His teeth were chattering. What was worse, he didn't have a spare set of clothes to replace his soaking clothes. Hopefully, the thick grey clouds would disappear from the sky and the sun would shine brightly.
Felix moaned, "I feel sick."
"It's your nerves. You're in shock, all of this is a lot to take in."
Felix felt the bile rise and threw up on the ground. Fox removed his backpack to sit on the grass to grab his water bottle. "Felix," Fox said. "Have some water that might make you feel better."
Felix accepted Fox's water bottle and drank. Afterwards, he returned it to Fox. They walked until Fox stopped and pointed at the bush. "Those berries are safe to eat on that bush. Let's rest and regain our strength."
They approached the patch of bushes. Fox carefully picked the red berries off the bush without getting stabbed by the thorns. Felix didn't eat anything; he worried he might vomit again.
Fox said, "We need to rest before we can continue on our journey. It's your fault for making us wander around all day. I can't believe you don't know how to read a map. I would have never given it to you if I knew that was the case."
"Where do we rest?"
Fox pointed to the rock. "You see that rock? I'm putting my backpack against it to use it as a pillow. I'm racking out."
Fox grabbed his backpack and put it against the rock. Felix did the same.
Fox said, "Felix, if I don't survive this war, I want you to tell Kip. I don't want any damn daisies at my funeral because I'm allergic to them."
Felix's fists tightened; he recognized the attempt at humour but couldn't shake the dread of losing Fox.
"I'm not going to say that! You're going to live through the war."
"Felix! You saw what was in the ocean. Any of those dead bodies could have been one of us. We aren't safe on the island. We've to defeat the enemy, it's our only means of survival."
Felix gulped. "What if we don't?"
"Then we'll all be dead. I need some shut-eye." Felix nodded. Felix sat with his back pressed up against the rock. Stared at the ocean.
When Fox stirred from his slumber, Felix seized the opportunity to rest, but his respite was short-lived; discomfort in his neck soon roused him.
When Felix awakened, he'd rummaged through his backpack. Felix pulled out a plastic bag of trail mix and held it in front of Fox. "Fox, you can have my trail mix."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, you look like you're still hungry. I want to share my food with you."
Fox accepted it from Felix. "You're generous, Felix. The first day, I met you. You gave your bread to my sister."
After five minutes, Fox finished eating and pulled a map from his pants pocket. He sighed. "It's going to take us a while to get to Point A. We'll have to push the pace."
Felix huffed. The last thing he wanted was a head-on fight with Technation soldiers.
He sighed, "It's going to take us a while to get to point A. We'll have to walk as quickly as we can."
Felix huffed. By no means was he in a rush to go to point A, so he could fight head-on against Technations' soldiers.
Fox's eyes widened, and he yelled, "Shit!"
"What's wrong?" Felix scratched his head in confusion.
"Ossory's destroyer is here. They're allied with Technate!" Fox pointed at the destroyer ship with Ossory's flag. In horror, Felix whipped his head around.
The Ossory warship, a three-hundred-meter steel fortress, loomed against the grey horizon. Its hull bristled with vertical-launch tubes for nuclear-tipped cruise missiles, and an advanced sonar array swept the waters below. It dwarfed Cascadia's half-sized vessel, its larger crew scurrying across the deck like ants. The sheer scale of the floating behemoth left Felix's throat as dry as sandpaper.
The Ossory ship answered with a thunderous roar as missiles streaked from its launch tubes. Cascadia's defences scrambled, counter-missiles arcing like dying stars, but they plunged uselessly into the sea. A nuclear-tipped rocket ripped through the Cascadian hull with a shriek of tortured metal. Seawater cascaded through the gaping wound as orange flames erupted on deck, consuming everything in their path. The explosion hurled bodies into the churning water, their lifeless forms bobbing like macabre dolls in the dark, oil-stained sea. As the wicked fire spread across the deck, the intense heat melted the corpses like butter on toast, filling the air with the acrid stench of burning flesh and fuel.
"What do we do?" Felix's hands clenched into useless fists.
Fox shook his head. "Nothing. We can't save them."
Felix's stomach churned. "I have a bad feeling we're losing this war."
A firm hand landed on Felix's shoulder. "We have to go," Fox said. "The only way we win is if we fight."
They departed. As they walked, Felix paused to gaze at the sky where three dark grey Technate jets swarmed a lone Cascadian fighter. A missile from a Technate jet missed, but a second struck the fighter's left wing, which blossomed into a gout of fire. Black smoke trailed from the crippled aircraft.
The pilot lost control of the aircraft's steering. The plane spiralled from the sky and crashed into the boulders lining the beach.
Felix sprinted towards the wreckage, dread settling in as he realized the pilot was lifeless, a shard of glass protruding from his forehead, his eyes staring blankly into the void. Black smoke smelled putrid like rotting meat.
Fox said, "Felix! We need to get back on the route."
Felix sighed and followed. Blisters bloomed on his heels, his wet shoes rubbing his feet raw with every step. He wished Fox would slow down; he saw no reason to hurry toward their own deaths.
After five exhausting hours, Felix stumbled and fell hard, yelping as he hit the ground.
Fox turned around. "Are you okay?"
Felix rubbed the dirt away from his face. "I'm fine. I don't know what I tripped over."
Felix rose and looked behind him. A corpse lay on the ground; he'd tripped over its leg. Blood pooled from a wound on the back of the man's head. Felix cringed. It was a soldier from Intermarium—another bad sign. They were being overrun.
Fox urged, "We gotta move forward."
Tears blurred Felix's vision. "I can't do this anymore," he choked out. "Everywhere I look, there's another body!"
Fox pulled him into a rough embrace. "I know. This place is worse than hell. But we can't stop. I have to find my sister and brother."
Felix nodded, thinking of Kip and Nova. He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, and they moved on, Felix now watching the ground with obsessive care.
A loud crack made Felix jump. A seagull fell dead to the ground beside him. Felix's eyes snapped up to lock with the cold stare of a Technate soldier, who was now levelling a rifle at him. The soldier's weapon was sleek and black, a stark contrast to Felix's own worn-down gun.
Felix froze. The soldier had missed, but he wouldn't miss again.
Bang.
The Technate soldier's head snapped back as a bullet tore through it. He dropped to the ground, his blood soaking the grey soil.
"FELIX! ENEMY FIRE! UNHOLSTER YOUR GUN!" Fox roared.
There was no time to thank Fox. Three more Technate soldiers charged towards them. While Fox ran to meet the enemy, Felix bolted. He didn't want to fight, even with his life on the line.
A bullet hissed past his ear, and he dove behind the thick trunk of a tree. Panting, he pressed his back against the bark, his hands clamped over his ears to block the percussive blasts of gunfire. A wave of nausea washed over him, and he fought back the urge to vomit. His churning stomach was the least of his worries. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to imagine he was somewhere else, anywhere else—hiking in the forest with his father.
The firefight seemed to last an eternity, but eventually, the gunshots sputtered and died. Felix removed his hands from his ears. Silence. He risked a peek from behind the tree. The Technate soldiers were gone. It was safe.
He scrambled out to search for Fox and found him lying on the ground. Felix kneeled beside him. "Fox! Are you okay?"
Fox moaned. His left hand was slick with blood. Underneath it, a bullet wound in his side gushed, right where his appendix was. His face was as white as a corpse, his breathing ragged and shallow.
Felix hauled Fox onto his back, the weight staggering but manageable. At least the brutal military training was good for something, he thought. He couldn't leave Fox behind, not after he'd saved his life.