Day 2: February 12, 2525

Some time during that miserable night Andrew's exhausted body had given into exhaustion and he had fallen into a deep dreamless sleep. He awoke with the rising sun; his body sore from the awkward position and hard ground. There were no questions in his mind about where he was or why, his mind could never invent something so horrible. Though the storm was gone the wind still blew across the open fields. Andrew gratefully took in the warmth of the sun's rays. All he wanted to do was lay there and never leave. Remain basking in the sun's glory till nothingness overcame him.

However, he realized that more than his life was in the balance. He needed to warn others; no one else deserved to experience what he had just gone threw. Andrew uncurled and stretched himself out. He needed to get to Gladsheim. Hopefully he wasn't too late.

He climbed up the rocky outcropping and surveyed his surroundings, shivering as the brisk wind caught his wet clothes. No more alien vessels were in sight, but columns of smoke rose in the horizon. Sitting on the cleft over his little shelter he took out the picture of his family. He couldn't believe they were really dead. He angrily swiped at the tears forming in his eyes. Now wasn't the time to be a baby. He needed to be strong; his survival depended on it. Getting up he looked towards Gladsheim. Other than isolated columns of smoke there was nothing to hint that the city had been attacked… yet. Perhaps the new colonial militia had repelled an attack, or maybe this had just been a raiding party.

"No," he answered himself softly; they came to destroy not take. He picked his way down to the mongoose and started it up. His stomach rumbled angrily. He hadn't eaten since that plum before dinner. Speeding towards the city he thought maybe he would come across some people or he could always just take some fruit from an orchard to sate his hunger. No one would begrudge him that small theft in these conditions.

As the kilometers passed, Andrew sped by endless fields of burnt wheat, maize, and barley. Whole orchards were burnt to merely black hulks; even the fruits on the ground burnt to a ashes. The air was thick with smoke, ash, and soot causing Andrew to pull the collar of his shirt over his face. This had to be what hell was like; void of life and alone. He passed by several other farm houses. He didn't stop. He already knew what he would find.

On he sped, kilometer after kilometer, never stopping. Between the wind and sun he had finally dried out, but he was still freezing in the early morning hours. He didn't meet anyone on his journey; neither human nor alien. Everyone had either fled or was dead. He tried not to dwell on that last option. Their homes may be separated by great distances, but out in the rural farmlands of Harvest you knew everyone. Barn raisings or the big fairs in Gladsheim brought everyone together. It was like a big family reunion. All that was gone now. In a twinkling of an eye everything had changed.

At the last farm house before the city Andrew stopped. The orchards and fields were still smoldering and the house was a pile of charred wood and ashes, but the barn still stood undamaged. Perhaps there were weapons or possibly even food. He had never felt so hungry in his life something his stomach was angrily grumbling about. As Andrew approached the door he heard soft wailing inside. He hesitated. Did he really want to see what was inside? Eventually his hunger won out and he slid the door open. Blood and guts covered the walls and floor of the barn. Andrew tread carefully to avoid getting his bare feet covered in the sticky mess.

The wailing came from a stall on the far side. Andrew carefully worked his way over to it and peeked inside. It was the owner's prize winning mare. She lay in an awkward position. The lower half of her body was severely burned and all her legs looked broken. Next to her lay the dead body of her colt, not even a year old yet. She looked up when she heard Andrew's light breathing and gave him a look of pure sorrow that made him want to wrench his heart out. Everything had been too much. Perhaps it was better not to feel at all.

He quickly cupped his hands and dipped them in a nearby water trough. The mare gratefully lapped it up. Andrew petted her head as he gave her another handful. She had been so beautiful, so strong. Her coat had been a vibrant red that had made her the envy of every farmer within the Gladsheim area. Such beauty, such nobility; who could destroy such a thing? Eventually he spotted the axe hanging nearby. He looked into the mare's eyes and knew what must be done.

A few seconds later he stood by the trough cleaning the blood from the axe head. He didn't know why; it wasn't like anyone would care, but habits are hard things to kill. Replacing the axe head he turned to the feeding trough in the barn. He was starving and there wasn't anything else. His dignity made him look to make sure no one was watching before he dipped his hands in and scooped out a large handful of oats. He devoured it eagerly. Hunger has a way of making anything palatable. He washed it down with a drink from a faucet outside.

As he was leaving a glint of metal caught his eye. A knife lay on the ground slightly out of its sheath. Andrew took it out and examined it. On the blade was the inscription "Jump feet first into hell!" motto of the ODSTs. He placed it back in its sheath and attached it to his belt. Well his feet may be bare foot but at least he was armed now. Jumping back onto his mongoose Andrew sped the last few kilometers to the outskirts of Gladsheim.

As he neared the city limits he slowed down. A massive pillar of smoke rose above where the city should be. He stopped and weighed his options. He needed to get to Utgard; to the space elevators and to safety, but that was too far to travel on foot and his mongoose could never make it. No, he needed to get into the city and hopefully find transport to Utgard.

He started up the mongoose again and drove slowly towards the city, watching the sky for any signs of… them. The fields of golden wheat he had driven through just yesterday were no more than burnt stubble. He double checked to make sure the coast was clear before driving onto the main road that led to the city. His destination was the school. He knew the area and the headmaster lived on the grounds. That meant a vehicle would be there if the creatures hadn't destroyed it. For the first time in his life Andrew was thankful for all the times he had been sent there for punishment: he knew where the keys were.

He slowed as reached the city limits sign. Andrew looked once more back from were he came. This was it; he had made it to Gladsheim. It had taken him nearly three hours but he was here. It seemed an eternity ago that he had driven this route; complaining to friends he had given rides about the amount of homework they had. He pressed the accelerator; now was not the time to dwell on the past.

He sped past bombed houses and burnt yards. City buildings were built of concrete and steel, not the highly flammable wood of farm houses. Each former home he passed had its own memory. There was his best friend Trevor's home where he stayed overnight sometimes when there was a lot of homework to do or a big test. There was old Mrs. Frieberg's home where his family stayed when in town. Down another street was the Linde's place which he had helped repaint in exchange for some parts for the projector. He didn't stop to check any of them. The gaping holes in the wall told him there was no one home. Strangely enough he didn't see any bodies. Perhaps some had made it out in time.

A few minutes later he pulled up next to the Headmaster's still intact car. Not the same could be said of the house though. The west wall had completely collapsed and the other three didn't look far behind. He carefully crept into the foyer, ignoring the half burnt corpses of the owner and his family, and headed to where he knew the keys were. He said a prayer of thanks when he saw them hanging right where they should be. Grabbing them he headed back outside but stopped when his stomach rumbled. Horse feed wasn't all that filling for humans. Andrew turned back to the kitchen and began searching for food. It wasn't long till he found a few pieces of fruit that looked good enough to eat. He took a bite of one as he headed back outside. He eyed the corpses as he passed them again, but unfortunately none had shoes.

In the car he stuck the keys in the ignition, gave a short prayer, and turned the key. The car came to life for a second and then died. Andrew swore and tried again, but it refused to start. He popped the hood and jumped out. Every Harvest kid new the basics of mechanics; when times were tight you couldn't afford a fancy specialist to fix the farm equipment. Everything looked fine. Andrew began by checking the basics, oil, coolant, battery. Everything seemed fine, but he did smell gasoline. Looking under the car he saw a pool forming on the concrete. He traced it back to the cylinders and cursed at the small crack he saw. It looked like someone had ripped it apart and put it back together without realizing they weren't built to be taken apart. The car's safety sensors had detected the crack and turned off the engine and Andrew didn't have the tools necessary to override the safety system.

He slid down the side of the car to the ground, holding his head in his hands. Life sucked right now and he wasn't sure he could take much more. He had obviously been too late to warn anybody. He was finally realizing that he truly was alone. There was no one left just him and corpses. He wanted to cry again. Just curl into a ball and cry himself to sleep; to just forget everything for a few blissful hours.

Looking up he saw the sun was almost high in the sky. The day was half over. Having not seen any signs that the aliens were still here Andrew decided that this would be a good place to stay for the night. Rousing himself from his depression he reentered the house and began looking for things of use. Like most city dwellers the headmaster didn't have any weapons but he might have other things, shoes being high on the list. Andrew carefully picked his way through rooms and closets collecting anything that might be of use and dumping them in the driveway. He would sort through it later.

By the time he was done he had a sizeable pile of stuff. He had to travel light so most of it was going to be left behind. He had already pulled out a pair of sneakers; amazingly they fit perfectly, and was now sifting through clothes. All the jackets were too brightly colored for his purposes but the medical kit was invaluable. There was a leather satchel he could use to carry stuff in and the night vision binoculars would be priceless too though he was less sure about the cash. Was it even worth anything now? He decided no.

Once he gathered his stuff he went back inside and packed some food mostly fruits and breads. Lifting up the overturned refrigerator he found a whale steak still cold. He stared at it for a second. They had saved his life. He picked the paper wrapped meat up and stuck it in the satchel. At least tonight he'd have a good meal. With the sneakers on his feet and the medical kit, binoculars, and food in the satchel he stepped out of the house. For the first time Andrew felt a small inkling of hope. He had food for a day or two, a medical kit in case of injuries or sickness, and shoes on his feet. He just might make it out of this alive.

The headmaster's house wasn't safe to stay the night so he headed to the mostly undamaged school. There he could have shelter for the night and hopefully find a few more tools. Walking down the darkened main hall was eerie all alone. Usually he only saw it when it was full of students hurrying from one class to the next. He stopped at the Old Man's office. The Old Man, as he was affectionately called though the students called him Sir to his face, had been Andrew's favorite teacher. He had been the one to discover Andrew's hidden talent only four years ago, and had grumbled for weeks that only on a backward planet like Harvest could such a gift be hidden for so long. He had taken Andrew under his wing and helped develop the talent. Within a couple months of studying he was completely fluent in several different languages.

Andrew brushed his hand against the nameplate on the solid oak door. The Old Man kept a locked chest in there that was rumored to hold his belongings from when he had served in the UNSC Marine corps; perhaps he kept a pistol or something in it. Andrew turned the knob and pushed the door in. He was greeted by the headless corpse of his mentor sitting in his leather swivel chair behind the desk. Andrew quickly turned around and threw up. He stayed in the hall for a few seconds before he worked up enough courage to reenter the room.

Getting over his initial shock he examined the body. The burnt neck tissue meant his head had probably been vaporized. At least that had been painless Andrew consoled himself. He turned his attention to the iron bound chest in the corner. It had an old fashion lock and key on it. Andrew grabbed the heaviest thing he could find and broke it off.

Inside he found a neatly folded up uniform and a UNSC flag. Digging deeper he found cases of medals and a canteen. The Old Man had obviously been very busy as a soldier. Underneath them he found what he was looking for: an M6D Magnum pistol. With a twelve round clip and armor piercing bullets it was more than enough protection for him. He quickly checked to make sure it was in serviceable condition, though knowing the Old Man it probably was in mint condition. When he was done he slipped the gun back into its holster and fastened it to his belt. He grabbed the extra magazines, cartons of ammo, and canteen and placed them in his satchel.

Andrew turned to look at the Old Man's body before he left. He couldn't leave him here, not like this. He turned the swivel chair around grabbed the Old Man's feet, dragged him out the door, and to a tree he had liked to sit under. Andrew set down his stuff and began digging a hole. It was hard work and eventually he went to find a tool of some sort. In the gardener's shed he found a small spade, but that was better than his bare hands.

The sun was just beginning to set when he wrestled a piece of concrete into place as the headstone. He to a step back and examined his handiwork. Using a hammer and piece of rebar he had chiseled:

In Memory of

Gregory Binnder (The Old Man)

Teacher

Mentor

Friend

Some how, though he had done great things for the UNSC, Andrew knew he would have liked this. Andrew's stomach soon started complaining again, reminding the teen he couldn't just take care of the dead. He took one last look at the grave before heading inside; his steak wasn't getting any fresher.

He made his way to the chemistry labs. A few Bunsen burns would cook this steak just fine. Four burners arranged in a square with a metal sterile drawer used as a pan soon had his steak sizzling in no time. He took out his knife and cut off a slice. Even unseasoned it was absolutely delicious. Andrew was sure he had never had a better steak before in his life. Taking the drawer of the heat, he put it on the ceramic countertop. He stared at it for a while. Normally his father would say grace now, but it just didn't seem right now.

He took his knife and cut off a thick slice of meat. He chewed slowly savoring each bite. No telling when he'd get another steak like this again, if ever. What to do next was running through his mind. He could siphon off gas and maybe carry a gallon or two and some food or water and hope to make it to the next refueling station before he ran out, but that idea wasn't exactly appealing. There would be no cover on the open and now probably burnt plains of Harvest. If any alien ship saw him he'd be dead.

The other option was to stick around Gladsheim and hope to find someway out. The massive sewer system should have provided shelter to a few individuals. Hopefully he would run across some of them and they could pool their meager resources to find a way out of this hell.

Andrew took out the picture from his pocket. His mother looked so beautiful. She had spent hours getting herself up for the big ball in downtown Gladsheim. The quarter Harvest had been especially bountiful and dad had splurged a little on her dress. His older brothers looked stiff; completely out of place in their suits and ties. Suzie looked picturesque in her light pink dress. That had been her first Founder's ball. Usually they left her with Mrs. Frieberg.

And there he was; smiling for all he was worth. Alex, a girl he had a crush on for two years, had asked him to escort her to the ball and he couldn't have been happier. He had grown a good inch since the picture and had cut his hair. He had really let it grow long back then. Andrew stared at the grinning innocent person in the photo. It was a different person than how he felt now.

Andrew sighed and took out an apple from his satchel and pierced it with his knife. Holding it over the burners he slowly let it roast to a crispy golden brown. It reminded him of the fall party his family had each year. Friends and family from kilometers around would descend upon the Conyers farm for an evening of fun and feasting before winter set in. Not that winters were very cold, it was just tradition. Something his Great Grandfather had brought with him from earth.

Those had been fun times. Because his family lived so far out most people stayed the night over. That meant the kids slept in the barn or under the stars. Nothing was more fun than a cool fall night hanging out with Trevor with dozens of little kids to scare. Andrew took another bite of the apple. Life would never be the same for him and deep down he knew it would never be the same for humanity either.

Turning off the burners Andrew prepared to go to sleep. He knew of a relatively safe place to sleep; one where it would be hard to sneak up on without him hearing. In the rafters above the attic someone had laid a couple of plywood boards down and it was used to store things that weren't used often. It was high enough off the ground to make it difficult to climb up and there was also a trap door that led to the roof.

On the way there Andrew grabbed some costumes used in school plays. They would serve nicely as blankets and pillows. He tossed the clothes up and then jumped. Catching the edge with his hands he hauled himself the rest of the way up. He set to work moving boxes and other things to make room for him and also shield him from anything below. He threw some dresses on the ground and balled up a bear costume for a pillow before lying down. He placed his new weapon by his side and a few minutes later he fell asleep.