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Shifting back into park, I wait for the truck’s anti-gravity to power down. When it settles on the ground, I hop out. Linus and Freck are already slinging boxes into the back. I follow them into what was once a civilian library, claimed by Coalition soldiers like most everything else in this town and converted into a makeshift storage unit.
Sometimes, I feel a little guilty for all the citizens of Sintaca who have had to sit idly by while we spread through this city like a virus. Other times, I remind myself that they’re just lucky there’s a city to spread through.
Many other towns in Armstrong are just shells of what they once were, decimated by the war. But we’ve kept Sintaca guarded and safe from the brunt of how bad it could have been.
“What’s the latest word from the front?” I ask, wondering what the plan is next. Will we be heading out soon to push the Alliance forces back? Are we just going to sit and wait for them to come to us?
“I dunno.” Linus shrugs. “C’mon, Drex, like they tell us shit. You know as well as I do that when they need us somewhere, the first time they tell us is going to be while they’re yelling at us that we should have been there an hour ago.”
I chuckle, trying to hide the uneasiness growing in my chest. I’m not scared by the thought of war, obviously. I signed up voluntarily to be here, something I’m not sure can be said for everyone.
There’s just something right now I can’t put my finger on that bothers me. It’s like the feeling you get when you can tell a bad storm is coming before it’s even in sight. There’s a charge in the air that I can’t define, but I’m certain it isn’t good.
“Maybe they won’t even get this far,” Freck points out. “If they’re coming for Sintaca, they should deploy us out to Axrun and cut them off first,” he says, referring to the base about an hour out.
Linus rolls his eyes. “Yeah, we’ll hide the key to the city under the mat before we go. They’ll never be any wiser.”
Freck slams the box in his hands down in the back of the truck. “I don’t mean everyone, you idiot. Obviously, we’re going to leave some troops in Sintaca.”
The two of them bicker back and forth for a few more minutes about the practicality of that. I just continue to move boxes, listening in but not saying a word. It’s not like Linus and Freck to argue, which makes me think the tension isn’t all in my head.
“It doesn’t matter, anyway!” Linus finally interjects in exasperation. “Like any of them care what we think. We don’t even get to know what we’re doing half the time. We just get told to do it or die.”
His face twists into a bitter grin like he’s trying to convince himself that what he says is just a joke, but he can’t make his face agree. “Well, someday we’re going to move up to the next level. Do it and die, anyway. Boys, graduation might be here.”
An uncomfortable silence hits all of us. Linus clears his throat after an awkward pause, realizing his comment wasn’t as casually funny as he wanted it to be.
The rest of the day is more of the same. No matter what job I’m given, I do it quietly. Since I’m paid to be here, totally by my own volition, I don’t feel I have the same right as some of the others on the base do to complain. Any position I find myself in, I only have myself to blame.
But I’ve also worked with these guys for months now. We’ve moved all over Armstrong as a unit together. It’s hard not to internalize some of the gloom that no one wants to voice but everyone seems to feel.
When the day is finally done, some of the guys go back to the hotel-turned-soldier-housing to decompress. Freck, the extrovert among us, prefers to relax surrounded by people at Drago’s Bar. Usually, it’s a scene I could do without, but for some reason today, the thought of a drink appeals to me.
If I drink enough, maybe it’ll numb this discontented feeling in my chest.
Linus, Freck, and I claim a high-top table in the back corner. Freck immediately starts working his way through the crowd, flirting with the pretty human bartenders. I have to admit, they’re pleasing to look at, in their skimpy outfits designed to draw attention.
Linus and I can’t quite match the boisterous energy of the crowd, so we hang back and observe. It’s not my first time in this bar, but I still glance around. Plasma signs advertising drinks hang on the wall, and the gentle glow illuminates the scantily clad pinup girls that cover the space left over.
The bar, I swear, seems louder and dirtier than ever. There’s a desperation on the girls' faces that makes me feel hollow, even as they giggle and twirl their hair, trying to pretend they don’t have a care in the world.
For a minute, I worry I made a mistake coming out tonight. But then I decide the answer is as simple as making my way to the bar for another drink and waiting for the alcohol to permeate.
“Want another one?” I ask Linus. “I’m buying, Let’s get something stronger.” I wave my empty glass bottle.
He grins and nods. “The stronger, the better!”
“My man, I couldn't agree more.” Just then, I notice a thin blonde making her way toward Linus. Her gaze is singularly focused on him, and there’s a sway in her step that makes me want to get out of there before she notices me. I snatch his bottle out of his hand and scurry to the bar as he gives me the wide-eyed look of a man realizing too late he’s stepped into a pitfall trap and there’s no ground beneath him.
“Sorry, Linus,” I mutter as I toss the empties on the counter, leaning forward over the hard surface while I wait to be served. “Better you than me. She looks harmless enough, anyway.”
There’s an oddly sticky feeling under my elbows even though I can tell the bar has been recently wiped. It’s as if it’s been sticky for so long that the sensation is perpetually burned into the wood. I’m contemplating just how many drinks it’ll take to stop caring when I realize the answer is none.
The bartender stands up from where she is crouched down, rummaging through items on the bottom shelf. She turns to face me, and our eyes lock. Suddenly, it’s like everything – the noise, the sticky bar, the lingering smell of the dank bar, all of it – just freezes in time and is pushed aside. There’s only space in my brain for her.
She’s curvy, with features that seem delicate against her impossibly thick, wavy mane of brown hair. Despite being a normal height and size, she just seems somehow fragile, though her square jaw hints she’s secretly tougher than she lets on at first glance.
She cocks her head to the side expectantly, waiting for my order, but I’m tongue-tied as I stare into the biggest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. Something warm rushes up my spine, and I shiver despite the fact that there’s absolutely no chill in the air in that sweaty bar.
