When this thing goes off, you pop those wagons, you get those people out. Don't be a hero.
...Go.
I wasn't thinking about what I held. In all these years, I've learned that sometimes it's best not to think about what it is you're actually doing- only that it has to be done. That's war. That's the only way to survive. And that's why I had to forget about the weight of the EFP I held. All I could allow myself to think was to get It to the Ogre and push the button. That was its life's ambition. It was my job to help it achieve that. Anything after that didn't exist.
I ran like hell. I've done a lot of running since Judgment Day. But all of that had been the panicked run of a man pursued. Shooting over my shoulder, ducking for cover, dodging plasma rifle fire. I've run from tanks and from terminators and sometimes I've had to run from my own men, which hurts most of all. But this was different. This was running with purpose. Human lives were on the line, which is always the case, but this was different. Reese knew it, somehow. His brother Derek might have wanted to keep the bunker safe, but Kyle had known, just as I knew. This was something more.
Derek is exactly the same as when I'd known him so long ago, back when he was still older than me, before the war- calculating and strategic. A good fighter, sure. But now, at this point in his life, where I still have seniority over him, he doesn't understand what I do. Sometimes you have to take a risk. Sometimes you have to go against orders and your own safety to save a life. Kyle knows it, I know it, and Connor knows it.
Connor's known it for a long time.
And I ran.
It wasn't far to go, but I ran faster than I ever had. The Ogre loomed ahead, and then I was there. And the EFP was down, and the button pressed, and then I was gone. Running again, even though I knew. For a moment I thought maybe I could outrun it, but I knew what was happening, what was going to happen. I felt the sudden heat on my back as I ran, and everything fell away.
It was just me and the ground ahead. No machines, no convoys, no EFP's, no tin cans. Nothing. Nobody. It was quiet, the peaceful silence I hadn't heard since the cross-country course at Presidio Alto when I'd go out just after dawn and the only things awake were me and the sun.
I hadn't seen Alicia since Judgment Day, but now she was there. She was running alongside me, and I looked and saw her smiling. She pulled ahead slightly, taunting me, encouraging me to race her, to match her pace. I grinned, and fell into stride with her. We were together but somehow alone, and I knew we were alright.
I could finally keep running, and never look back.