Pan-Pacific Defense Corps
Personnel Dossier

Name Evangeline Gregory

Assigned Team Rangers, ID R-EGRE_658.89-T

Date of Active Service August 15, 2016

Current Service Status Active, based in Los Angeles Shatterdome

Biography

Born July 30, 1996, Columbus, Georgia. Parents Michael and Julia. Older sister Carolina. Entered Jaeger Academy January 2016. Along with her sister, achieved highest simulation scores of their class and set records that still stand to this day.

Known for disrespect of the chain of command and lack of military bearing, it is believed that Evangeline only made it into the program because of her strong connection with her sister. Disciplinary action has been considered. No recommendations for promotion.

Notes

Concerns raised over Evangeline's flippant attitude. Replacements for co-pilots have been considered, but none have successfully gone through by demand of her sister, Carolina.

See attached arrest record for details.


Chapter Seven
Downhill

Pan-Pacific Memorial Cemetery
Hilo, Hawaii
December 24th, 2019

Decorations can be seen up and down all the main roads of the city. Palm trees are decorated with strings of lights and the most dedicated of holiday enthusiasts have covered their lawns with flakes of fake snow. It's the time of year where everyone feels upbeat, even though the world is at war, but none of that can be seen here. The crowd is all stoic gazes and tearful eyes, whimpers and murmurs of respect as the Secretary General drones on with his speech about sacrifice and honor.

So much for Christmas cheer.

I steal a glance at the gathered crowd. Most of the PPDC higher ups are here as well as a vast majority of the Rangers in the program. It only seems right. Lo Hin Shen and Xichi Po are the first pilots we've lost in a long time now. It was their sacrifice that got countries to open their eyes and start taking seriously the plights of their fellow man. Negotiations have already started. Shatterdomes are opening again. Maybe if we'd managed to bash their thick skulls in sooner, Horizon Brave wouldn't be gone, and we wouldn't be here.

Herc is standing near the back with the Marshal. I'd say he looks colder than usual, but that might just be my mind playing tricks on me, the memory of Manila making me see things that don't actually exist.

Scott, I note, is nowhere to be seen.

Evangeline shifts to my left. We're both in our dress blues – at least half the group is – but true to her nature, she elected to wear the skirt. And true to mine, I'm wearing the pants, though I'm quickly regretting that decision. The air is thick and smells like an incoming storm, but there is no wind despite our proximity to the ocean. I can feel the beads of sweat rolling down my neck.

Krieger ends his speech and steps back from the freshly dug graves. The group collectively relaxes. There's only one speaker left now and if there is one thing anyone knows about Stacker Pentecost, it's that he likes to keep his speeches short and simple. It's the best case scenario, because now I can definitely hear the rumble of thunder in the background.

Pentecost takes his time to acknowledge the families with a nod before landing his gaze on no one in particular. Despite that, I feel like he's watching me. That god-like impression he gives you during training just never leaves.

"Everything that needs to be said has already been spoken by those who came before me. I do not need to repeat their words in order to give you an impression of how good these Rangers were or how valiant their sacrifice was. We already know. It doesn't ease the pain nor does it fill the gap they've left in their wake. Their loss will be felt for many years to come and I cannot change that. I can only ask for you to think of what they gained, because that victory will echo for generations. Shatterdomes reopening, countries cooperating once again. Eight days ago, they saved the world."

He pauses then and for the first time that I can recall, Pentecost manages to look mournful, sorry, as he returns his gaze to the family members.

"It may not feel like much now, but let that knowledge be a comfort to you."

Everything remains silent and still. No one applauds speeches at funerals, they do not give standing ovations, but my hands feel the urge to do so nonetheless. It was a beautiful speech for how short it was. I hadn't thought him capable. I wonder briefly if Mako wrote it for him. The little girl he adopted had many talents. I wouldn't be surprised if writing was on the list.

As rain starts to sprinkle in, our group disbands, though not before everyone gives their last condolences to the grieving families. For our part, Evangeline and I keep ours short and sincere, expressing our regret at not being able to do more. The members nod, the wives take our hands and shake them, reminding us that it is not our fault. I feel bad for letting them try to comfort us on a day like this.

Newly enlisted PPDC members run up to the rest of us with umbrellas, handing them off before taking up their own. I smile politely at them, remembering well enough my early days in the Army. Nothing had made me angrier than being looked down upon like I was worthless, only useful for meaningless tasks. I never understood why people did that.

Just as Evangeline and I make it to our car, I notice a lone figure standing at the memorial statue. It doesn't take long for me to recognize that it is Herc, which leaves all sorts of alarms going off in my head. I know he shouldn't be left alone. I've taken the classes, seen the results of those left to their own devices following particularly traumatic events. Herc would never admit he needs to talk to someone, he has that macho man persona down pat, but standing alone in the rain while holding his still closed umbrella screams he has something to talk about.

"Evie, sit tight for a while. I'll be right back."

She looks at me and nods, all serious, but I know she's thinking things I'd hit her over. At least she knows not to say them aloud…now.

I approach Herc slowly. His head turns ever so slightly to acknowledge my presence before returning his gaze to the statue. It was a strange, tall thing, depicting a man clad in ancient armor (Roman or Greek possibly, I never was very good at history) riding a horse and stabbing at a large sea serpent with a spear. While I can appreciate the message behind it, something about the statue is very off-putting. Then again, it might just be the rain and the grim feelings that tend to accompany a funeral.

My umbrella inches upward until we are both sheltered from the rain, not that it matters much at this point. Herc is already soaked. I watch little beads drip from his nose and chin, wondering how to start.

"Ever think about using that thing?" I asked, gesturing to his umbrella.

It's an awkward opening, but uncomfortable situations always demand humor from me. Poor humor, but something light-hearted nonetheless.

"Never crossed my mind."

He falls silent for a long time. I wonder if he has barred any further conversation; I don't quite have the courage to try again, even if there are a hundred things I want to say.

"I used to like the rain," he says suddenly, voice distant, like he is remembering. "My mother never could get me to come inside. She always said I'd get sick one day. Never did. And now…now I just hate the stuff. You can't see shit in it, messes with your sensors, hides the Kaiju that's standing fifty yards in front of you. I can't think of anything now without thinking of them. Messed up thing, that."

I honestly don't know what to say to that.

And so we stand there, staring and in silence. It rains harder and thunder cracks overhead. People run for cover in all directions. I feel my shoes sink in the mud ever so slightly.

"I didn't read the report," I blurt suddenly. I can't say where it came from. My mouth simply acted of its own accord, probably tired of waiting for me to do something.

Herc glances at me, a curious eyebrow raised.

"Considering your…reaction," I continue, eyes flitting to his knuckles. They're yellow and scabbed. "I figured the less who knew, the better for all parties involved."

His reaction is slow, but that seems to be the norm for him at the moment. He nods slowly at me; a small, grateful smile graces his features. "I appreciate that, Major."

I shake my head. "Call me Carol. I always did hate military formality. Besides, I think we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other in the future."

It was all meant to be a nice gesture, but my voice ends on a sour note. Even I can't deny the shift in power we've all felt. Things are changing in this war, and not for the better. When we meet again, which I know is inevitable, it'll be for another battle, one that will quite possibly be far more desperate than the last.


February 29th, 2020
Los Angeles Shatterdome

Movement detected in the Breach.

One eye opens to scan the deployment monitor, landing first on the time.

1:37 AM.

I sigh. The least these creatures could do was attack at a decent hour.

"Patch me through to Stokes."

Rolling out of bed, I grab the shirt I had just tossed off two hours ago. It's an old Army PT shirt of mine. The PPDC may have its standards and regulations, but I am not stumbling all over my room to throw on that damn uniform. If people think less of me in civilian clothes, they never truly respected me in the first place.

"You awake, old man?"

"Don't think I ever went to sleep."

I know that feeling all too well.

My dog tags clang together as I grope around for my sweatpants in the dimly lit space. "Gotta love the job, right?"

There's a muffled reply.

"Alright, I want Mammoth Apostle on deck. They need to be suited and ready to go in thirty. Get Sol Rojo up to speed, have their pit crews standing by, and get the Police Commissioner on the line!" I shout the last part as I bolt out of my room.

LOCCENT is buzzing with activity when I run inside. Most people barely acknowledge my presence as they continue running numbers and coordinate for potential evacuations. Even from deep within the Shatterdome, I can hear the Kaiju warning sirens outside.

"Major Gregory on deck!"

The room immediately comes to attention, but I wave them all off. My shirt is untucked, my hair is barely pulled back, hell, I would have worn flip flops if running in them wasn't so awkward. I don't feel like being the stone cold commander today, or any day I guess. I know most of my crew is used to the Marshal's tight leash.

Stokes spins around in his seat, offering a mug of coffee I gratefully accept.

"What've we got?" I lean against the chair as he turns around again, glancing over the projected nav screen in front of him.

"Early tracking has the Kaiju headed toward Alaska. Codename Knifehead. Cat III, largest we've seen. Anchorage is sending Gypsy Danger to the Miracle Mile."

"That's too close for comfort," I reply, taking a gulp. "Get Mammoth on the ten mile marker heading North. I want them halfway between here and Anchorage. And get Sol Rojo on the Miracle Mile just outside the city."

"Yes, ma'am."

Another hour passes by, tense as can be. I'm pacing and practically biting my nails as I await news. All the other Shatterdomes are up now, doing the same. Last we heard, Gypsy Danger had engaged the target, well past the Miracle Mile. True to their nature, the Becket brothers were going against orders. I'm surprised the Marshal keeps them.

It's been twenty minutes since we last heard news of Gypsy. The nav screens went offline ten minutes ago. Something is wrong. It makes me nervous.

"I don't like this," Stokes mumbles. The room has gone quiet. We are all waiting for news, good or bad; we all know which is more likely.

Another five minutes passes. Suddenly, there is a vid call on the line from Anchorage. I clear the room, leaving Stokes and me alone to take what is inevitably going to be terrifying news.

Marshal Pentecost doesn't even regard my attire.

"Major, I need you to send Mammoth Apostle to Anchorage. We need a confirmation that Knifehead is down."

I am hesitant to ask what has been on everyone's minds, but the Marshal seems to read my mind.

"We've lost Gypsy Danger."

Stokes told me later that I just walked out of the room without a word. I couldn't remember doing that. After the Marshal spoke those words, my next memory consisted of me waking up in bed, thinking it had all been a very bad dream.


Three months later…

"The Summit concluded today with a new proposal for defending nations in the Kaiju War. Titled the Wall of Life, the program plans to construct Anti-Kaiju Walls along the coasts of high risk areas, to include Sydney, Los Angeles, and Anchorage. While representatives have refused to confirm or deny that the program will receive government funding, project managers are hopeful."

The TV switches off, bathing the room in darkness. I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. There's a headache coming on. It's too early in the day for this.

"You think it'll actually work?" Stokes asks from somewhere to my right.

Behind me, someone snorts. It's one of the Bryce brothers, the new pilots for Mammoth Apostle. "Kaiju smash through buildings and Jaegers every time they make landfall. What's to keep'em from smashing the wall?"

"I agree." Angel Cancel, pilot of Sol Rojo. "They think we can hide behind those walls, wait for it all to blow over. Bit late for that I think."

"Kaiju are coming through the Breach faster than we can keep up," one of the defense strategists argues. "It's completely within reason to have a backup plan in case there aren't any Jaegers around."

"Except they aren't talking about back up plans," the other Bryce counters. "We've heard the rumors for weeks. These are supposed to replace us."

I blink as the overhead lights turn on. The room consists of all my pilots and chief staff members, many wearing varying looks of disappointment. I have no doubt my face is much the same. Rather than rising to meet the increasing demand the Kaiju are thrusting upon us, politicians are talking of backing down, giving up. Desperation leads to idiocy it seems.

"Yeah, well, try not to make any negative comments next time the paparazzi runs you down," I say as I sit at the head of the conference table everyone is gathered around. "The government funds the PPDC, so we supply them with loyalty."

"Even if they refuse to do the same?" Evangeline asks, feet propped up on the table, eyebrow cocked in question.

"Especially if they refuse. We're not about to be those mangy soldiers with no discipline to our name, not again. If the governments want to undermine us, we'll show them why they built the Jaeger program in the first place."

There are nods all around and a few murmurs. I dismiss the staff and watch as they all file through the door, a combination of uniforms, flight suits and leather jackets with sewn on patches. What a strange group of people we picked to save the world.

Evangeline lingers behind, staying in her seat. She's one of the leather jackets. I am, unfortunately, a uniform.

I don't mind that she can see me planting my face into the table or hear the curse words streaming out of my mouth. She would've seen it in her head eventually anyway.

"Please, tell us how you really feel."

Briefly, I look up at her. She smirks.

"There a reason you're still in here?"

Evangeline shrugs. "Not in particular. Guess I just like seeing my big sis get all frustrated."

I lower my head again. "Screw you."

The room is silent for a long time. I wonder what my sister is up to, but don't have the motivation to look up again. She's probably making faces at me or something of that nature. Then again, maybe not. Evangeline has been more…subdued over the past couple months. She still has that disobedient nature, but is much more inclined to be civil about things, and I can't remember the last time she went to a club. Frankly, it's probably something I should be concerned about.

"Is there something going on?" I ask, turning my head but keeping it on the desk.

Evangeline gives me a funny look, like I just spoke to her in another language. "No. Why?"

"You're not…you. Something's off, different."

She shrugs. "Maybe I'm finally starting to take the job seriously."

I snort. "The day you do that is the day I retire."

"Better brush up on your speech skills then."

I stick my tongue out at her. She does the same. I miss this.

Warning. Movement detected in the Breach.

My head shoots up. I swear I get whiplash from the movement. "REALLY?"


Maybe it's how warm the Conn-pod has grown. Maybe it's the cold I've felt trying to fight its way into my system for days. Maybe I'm just still pissed off at the whole Wall of Life situation. Whatever the reason is, I feel extremely uncomfortable as Indigo Sun is being transported to Peru to assist with the latest Kaiju appearance.

I remember these off days; I felt them a lot in Afghanistan. They were the mornings that I did not want to wake up to meet, the breakfasts I had no appetite for, the days that a mission would suddenly appear and never for anything good. Feeling this before facing a Kaiju cannot be a good thing.

"Carol, why don't you try a little harder to freak me out before we go meet the giant monster that wants to eat us. I can't feel my nerves yet."

My mind comes back to the present, taking in the ocean looming below us. Night is beginning to fall. I always hated fighting late.

"Carol!"

"Hmm? Sorry. I'm just distracted."

"I can hear your thoughts, sis. I'm well aware."

Approaching drop point in 500 meters.

We both look outside, but see nothing but ocean and a bit of coastline. The battle hasn't started yet, though all our equipment indicates the Kaiju is in the area. Paricia is what they called it, named after some ancient Incan god.

Drop point reached. Prepare for drop in 3…2…1.

The Lima Shatterdome has sent two of their Jaegers out, Diablo Intercept and Solar Prophet. The enormous Mark-IIs trek toward us as Indigo Sun touches down in the shallows. I've forgotten how slow the older models are, and feel like we're piloting Striker Eureka in comparison. It's no wonder they asked for backup. Even so, the PPDC has been sending extra Jaegers on every mission. Three Kaiju have attacked since Knifehead, all Category IVs. We all know there is no going back.

We watch the eerily calm waters, waiting for Paricia to show itself. Much like Hammerhead, our sensors have failed to properly detect it. It has forced us to keep the front lines close to the shore, where there shallow waters will do nothing to hide its massive form.

Behind us lies the city of Lima. The beaches have been evacuated, the coastal streets are bare of life, but this place is home to nearly nine million people. They won't all get out in time. We have to make sure they don't have to.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Evangeline mumbles. I don't bother giving in to my Star Wars urge, not that I need to. She knows, and even now I can feel her irritation.

My hand slams down on the transmitter. "Stokes, how long has this thing been in the area?"

"Approaching an hour."

"This doesn't make sense." My eyes search the conn-pod, as if I can find the answer engraved on something inside. "Why hasn't it attacked?"

Evangeline shrugs, but the movement is stiff. Even though we're connected, she still tries to hide her fear. That was something she got from me. "Biding its time?"

"But why? Kaiju just attack. Sure, they've gotten better at it, but they don't strategize. They don't size us up. What could it possibly be waiting for?"

There are no possible answers exchanged between us, not even outlandish ones.

The silence is pierced by alarms. Our screens turn bright shades of red, giving off warning signs.

"Stokes?"

"Seismic activity is off the charts! Lima is getting hit by one hell of an earthquake."

My blood freezes and time seems to stop. Evangeline is yelling at me. I can just make out her muffled cries, but even with the Drift, I can barely sense her. My ragged breath is the loudest thing around me and all I can feel is an overwhelming sense of dread.

Paricia was never waiting.

"GET BACK TO SHORE!" I scream.

Together, Evangeline and I wrench Indigo Sun around. We're facing Lima when Paricia shows its ugly face to the world, erupting from clouds of dirt and debris, reducing a handful of buildings to dust in its wake.

Including part of the Shatterdome.

For a few painful moments, none of us move. All three Jaegers, powerful and terrible in their own right, watch helplessly as the Kaiju tears through command, taking with it the hundreds of workers who never thought they might be in immediate danger.

"It beat us," Evangeline whispers. "It fucking beat us."

Her words shake something loose in me, a deep seeded anger dating back to San Francisco, and suddenly I am no longer so cold.

"No, it hasn't," I say through gritted teeth. My arm pumps down, blades activating. Evangeline follows the motion moments later, resolve returning.

We rush toward the Kaiju, as does Diablo Intercept. Even though they were much closer, we arrive at the creature at nearly the same time, both slamming our fists into its sides. Paricia screams and crawls backward, into more buildings and farther from the shore.

It's a different Kaiju, not that they all weren't strangely varied. The shape reminds me vaguely of some sort of crocodile, except with longer arms. It was not meant to walk on two legs at all, and while being exceptionally long, its height barely took it over four stories. But its legs are powerful, as are its jaw and tail, and it isn't hard to see how it could have buried itself underground. Above land, however, its movements are incredibly awkward.

We continue to lay into the Kaiju, throwing punch after punch, barely coordinating our attacks. Fortunately, Solar Prophet decided to stay back, otherwise half the damage to our Jaegers would have been from us.

"We need to get this thing in the water!" Evangeline shouts. I agree, silently surprised that I wasn't the person to say it first.

Diablo Intercept, like most Mark IIs, is larger than Indigo Sun. It grabs Paricia by the back and hoists the Kaiju over its head like it's the easiest thing in the world. I can practically hear all the warning sirens from their onboard AI as it turns to toss the creature back toward the ocean. Solar Prophet stands ready in the shallows, fists bared. It looks like we're about to play the world's most expensive game of baseball.

But Paricia was not out of the fight just yet.

It wraps its long tail around Diablo's neck, so when the Jaeger throws it, instead of flying into the ocean, it drags the machine down to the ground with it. The impact is devastating. Buildings blocks away begin to crumble while Evangeline and I struggle to maintain our balance.

Suddenly, all awkwardness from the Kaiju is gone. With its tail keeping Diablo from getting up, Paricia launches itself forward, its powerful jaws crushing the Conn-Pod in an instant.

We run forward, hoping to catch the Kaiju off guard, but its momentum only seems to continue as it dives toward us. My arm is outstretched, blades poised to bury themselves deep in its skull, but it is faster. Suddenly, its teeth are wrapped around the wrist, just beneath my blades, and it's dragging us backward, slamming our Jaeger into more buildings.

"Why is it always my arm?!" I hiss as my scars are hit by a familiar pain. "Hit it, Evie! Hit it!"

My left arm swings wildly as Evangeline attempts to drive her own blade into the Kaiju, but its skull is thick, leaving it relatively unaffected. Its teeth continue to carve into the metal skeleton of our Jaeger until I feel a tug and realize that the right hand is now detached.

Its head turns and grabs the left hand with the same ease, quickly working its way through the solid steel and wiring.

"We need to charge up the cannon." My hands shoot toward the console, typing in the right commands. The computer reacts slowly, buzzing and beeping incorrectly. I slam my fist against the display. "C'mon!"

Plasma Cannon charging: 25%.

"Solar Prophet, where are you?" Evangeline shouts as her left arm tugs loose. Indigo Sun is now missing both hands, with nothing but busted wiring from the elbow down. Paricia turns its attention to the chest piece of our Jaeger, its head tilting with curiosity at the bright light shining toward it, like some kind of animal.

Plasma Cannon charging: 50%.

That's all the further it gets as Paricia's head dives into the lit center, breaking through it like a toy. My breath catches as I feel a hit to my own chest. The world is spinning. It hurts to move.

When my eyes focus again, I see Paricia staring into our Conn-Pod, heaps of metal and other debris hanging from its mouth. In that moment, I can see straight into its eyes, bright blue and unnatural. I can see the intelligence reflected in them, the knowledge of what lies beyond the dome shaped head it is looking at. It knows we are here.

"We have to detach." My words are barely a whisper, my chest crying in agony as I am forced to shout louder. "Evie, detach!"

I am barely able to hit the emergency release and tumble into the back of the Conn-Pod as Paricia's head smashes inside.

Again, the world is moving in directions I can't control. My back is on fire. The glass of my helmet is cracked and broken. I feel like I am going to be sick.

But above it all is the overwhelming smell of ammonia.

My eyes open to blue. Paricia's mouth hovers over me, its tongue darting out from behind its razor sharp teeth to test the air. The ooze that covers the muscle gets on my drivesuit. A part of me swears it starts burning the material like a sort of acid.

I scream.

It's obnoxious and loud, cutting off as I dive to the side to get away. Paricia follows me as I crawl through the remnants of the Conn-Pod, looking for something to help me, grasping for something to hold on to.

My hand fumbles over something small and metallic. A flare gun has fallen from the emergency kit. Blindly, I fire it, not wanting to look back, hoping to not see it again.

The shriek that follows tells me I hit something important. Without the protection of the Conn-Pod, the sound pierces my ears and leaves me writhing, clutching my hands to my helmet even though they can do nothing.

I scream again as it continues. The cries get softer as its head leaves the Conn-Pod, letting light and more debris inside. I curl into a tiny ball as pieces of office buildings and hotels fall all around me.

Then I feel the ground shake, and the colossal sound of metal hitting flesh. A shadow passes over as Solar Prophet beats Paricia away from us.

And then there is silence.

For a long time, all I can do is lie there, curled as tightly as possible, holding myself and praying that everything will be okay. I've never been a very good Catholic and stumble over my Hail Marys as the adrenaline slowly wears off.

When I do move, everything is shaky. I can barely grasp anything. My hands and feet refuse to function properly. Slowly, I crawl forward and up. The floor is now a wall, the front of the Conn-Pod an open ceiling.

I'm not even sure how I'm able to pull myself up. It feels like all the strength has left my body. I am numb, cold, and so terribly small.

Indigo Sun is lodged in some hotel. Beds and lamps and other random pieces of furniture are scattered all around. Before me lies a good ten blocks of Lima, completely flattened until it reaches the beach. Solar Prophet is in the ocean, still engaging Paricia, but it is obvious the Kaiju is on the losing end of the battle.

A helicopter flies overhead, so close I can feel the vibrations. It makes something click inside, and I double over, retching off the side of my Jaeger, a one hundred foot drop between me and the ground. Some of it makes it outside my cracked helmet. Some doesn't. I can't even care.

The radio in my helmet crackles. I can barely make out the voices, but they seem to be shouting. Demanding an update, asking if we are okay…

We.

I whip around and slide back into the Conn-Pod, ignoring the pain that cascades through every fiber of me. Evangeline's harness is empty, but I can't see her anywhere inside.

"Evie! Evie!"

Everything is pulsing and red as I rip through debris, tossing what I can and shoving hopelessly at what I can't. I see a familiar shade of blue, a leg. Frantically, I jump forward, clearing rubble from where I think her head is.

Moments later, her helmet is visible. Her glass has also cracked, so she begins to cough as clean air reaches her lungs again. I crawl close to Evangeline and cradle her head against me. Unwanted tears line my eyes as I look at her. She is pale and her eyes are unfocused.

"Can you hear me, Evie? It's Carol. I'm here."

Despite the destruction to the system, our minds are still connected. With my adrenaline waning, I can feel her presence again. Her thoughts are scattered, and she feels cold, so cold.

I glance down her body, looking for the source. There is a metal rod jutting out of her midsection, bigger than my fist. It has cut through her spinal cord. She can't feel her legs.

Instinctively, I reach for the vile object, hoping that it is some construct of my mind. My fingers graze the surface, feeling the dark, sticky substance that coats it.

Blood.

My little sister's blood.

My hand reaches toward my mouth as I choke back a sob. I look back to Evangeline. She is staring through me and I'm not entirely certain she knows I'm here.

"Stokes, can you read me?" My pitch rises. I don't sound like me. "Stokes…I need your help."

I move closer to Evangeline, touch my helmet against hers. I can't put my hand on her, can't hold her properly as I feel her fading away. We're supposed to be connected, so why does she feel so far?

Her eyes twitch and look directly into mine. Her mind clears, if only for a moment.

"'s it gone?"

I nod. "Yeah."

"'s good."

She looks around slowly. I can see the tears forming in her eyes. There is no lying to her, no saying everything will be okay. Our damned connection lets her know everything.

Her eyes roll back into her head briefly as she takes a ragged breath. "Don't wanna be here, Carol. Anywhere. Not here."

It takes another hour for the medics to arrive, but by then there's no point.