Life is full of loss. The only way you can survive is to get past it. That is one of the downsides of life.


Pennsylvanian Country, 14:30 10th March 2037, Jason's POV


The entire trip had been quiet, with a bit of small talk between the others. But I stayed silent, the only one that was familiar being Jill, but she sat in the passenger seat of the Jeep, and I doubted that she would want to talk to me anyway. So I sat quietly and still. If they didn't see my chest rising while I breathed, then they would have assumed I was dead. The vehicle rocked to the side again, making me bob around and almost whack my head on the rebel beside me. I felt myself drifting into a sleep and slowly closed my eyes. But someone else had other ideas when I felt a nudge in my side.

"Hey, kid. You the newcomer?" he questioned with a studying look. I nodded, and a grin slowly appeared across his mouth. "I heard what you did. You must have good aim, and with a bit of practice, you would be as skilled as Lydia."

"No one can beat Lydia" the man on his other side argued. That began an argument that went on for a while, and it wasn't long before I toned out of it and went back to the comforting, lonely silence.

"Hey! knock it off, you two!" Jill ordered sternly whilst glaring at them. I didn't know why she did, because all she had to do was look at them and they'd think she was angry. She always looked angry, even when she was happy. They shut themselves up and sat upright, then she turned around with a frustrated sigh, muttering something about boys being boys. The man in the middle leaned in to my ear close enough so I could smell the tobacco on his breath.

"I still think you might be better" he remarked. I rolled my eyes and turned to the window. Truthfully, I felt slightly flattered by his comment. It made me feel a little better, but still I felt lonely. My hand went under my chin to hold it up at window level.

About ten to twenty minutes later, we came to a stop. Jill was the first to exit the vehicle, then the driver and the other two. I was the last and I was amazed by what I saw.

Unlike the last place we stayed at, this was a farm. A well fortified farm. It had two towers, one at the northwest corner and another at the southeast corner. At some points along the outer boundary of the farm were short walls of sandbags and cement roadblocks, some with barbed wire along the top. To the east of the farm, there was a black barn with a black green roof. At the top of the barn house, there was a small balcony around the top window with a wooden wall that would reach my waist height, and just outside the main door were more blocks and sandbag walls. A yard to the right of the barn, there was also a two story house with a veranda that went the whole way around with a railing around it, wooden panels screwed onto some parts as cover. It's roof was a pale green and the rest of the house was white. With both buildings, the roof was larger than the building itself, and was close to the color of the grass. A smart way of hiding this place from air patrols. I had to say, I was impressed by this new haven for us. They must have built it as a secondary position. That made me wonder if they had a whole bunch of backups.

"Alright everyone! We need to get set up and ready! So move it!" she ordered, and everyone rushed around, getting supplies from the convoy. I helped by carrying a carton of bean cans, and followed another into the house. The door had two tall windows in the top half, so I could clearly see the inside of it. Beyond the door were yellow walls with a grey carpet. The man in front of me turned the doorknob and pushed the open, then moved to the side to hold it open for me. I squeezed past the box he held and ventured down the entrance hall of the house. On either side, there were two openings in the walls. The one on my right led to an average size lounge room, with one couch and two recliners as well as a long coffee table in the middle and a window across from the couch. There was a cabinet behind the far recliner, and a smaller table beside the closer one, both having lamps on them. In the left room was what I assumed to be the dining room. There was a table large enough for six people with another two at either end and ten chairs for each of those people. There were two windows, one to the left of the doorway and the other across from it.

"That way" the man behind me pointed out, his index finger pointing past my head to the room we were supposed to go to. I followed his direction and found the kitchen. It's pearly white tiles looked slightly dirty with tiny patches of mould. On the grey benches, there were signs of grease and stains. I could tell that they were at least a month or so old. In one corner, there was a silver double-door fridge and two cabinets close to the floor next to it. After was an oven with a stove top, followed by another two cabinets and a pantry. There was a separate bench in the middle with a couple of cutting boards and a one cabinet, a sink next to the cutting boards. And with a closer look, I saw that the sink had been recently used. I had the feeling that it shouldn't be like that, so I indicated it to the other man. Already he was placing box down onto the bench and proceeded to run outside. I put mine down as well and followed him out.

"Jill! We have a problem!" I may have only seen her back, but I knew by how she faced the man that she most likely had rolled her eyes in annoyance. It seemed to me that she didn't like this job very much. And that made me feel a little better.

"What is it now?" she asked in annoyance. She looked like she had had a rough day so far, and probably was wishing it was something minor.

"We've found evidence that someone else is here." And there went her wish of having a quiet day. All of a sudden, she became alert and rushed inside, pushing me aside in the process. I almost shouted at her, but instead followed her inside along with the other man.

Once in the kitchen, Jill brandished a knife and held it menacingly, on the watch for anyone that didn't belong. We were so busy searching the inside of the kitchen to not notice someone come through the window.

"Umm...did I miss something?" We all whirled around to find someone we recognized right away. "Hey guys."

"Lydia, sweetie!" Jill walked over to her and went to hug her, but Lydia held out a flat palm. "What?" She then pointed to the knife in her hand. "Oh. Sorry." She put it down, then went back to trying to hug her, and this time the young woman accepted it.

"I missed you too, Jill" Lydia said cheerfully. I hadn't seen her smile before, so it felt nice to see her smile. Considering her upsetting past, it must have been really rare for her to be happy. The other man went over to join the hug, but Lydia was faster and ducked out of the way. "You want another nose job?" He backed off after that, grumbling bitterly with his back to us. Lydia rolled her eyes at him and went to the box of tins, then pulled one out and with a can opener began twisting it open.

"When did you get here, anyway?" Jill asked politely and curiously. I wanted to know as well, because we didn't see any truck or footprints to show any sign of their presence before. Lydia dug a spoon into the can of beans and took a spoonful before answering.

"We came here some twenty minutes ago. Our truck is off the farm, in case anyone had come by and decided to stay. That ain't something we want, now is it?" she specified, pointing the spoon at us as if to indicate it was our turn to talk. In case we wanted to prove a point, but I didn't see why. It seemed reasonable enough. Don't want to get jumped by bandits or KPA.

"No, it isn't. Still, you could have called when you got here." She crossed her arms, waiting for an excuse.

"Sorry. I would have, but I haven't even told Jasper that it's clear to bring the truck in yet." And there's where she is in need of lecturing. If Wyatt were here, she would be getting told off. Jill's hand slid down her face, and I could tell she was holding back her frustration. "I should go get him, shouldn't I?" Jill nodded bluntly. Lydia rolled her eyes and left through the way she came in, which was surprisingly the window.

"Sometimes that girl needs to use that space between her ears."

"You mean the brain?" the man asked. She shot him a glare, and I raised a brow, wanting to tell him that she obviously meant the brain. What else was there? But she did it for me.

"Get out of my sight" she growled sternly. He slowly backed away, then ran out the door. Afraid she would take it out on me, I was right on his tail. We almost tripped down the porch stairs in our hurry to survive her wrath. After I checked that she wasn't following, I sat down on the chair, huffing and panting like it had cost me a lot of effort to run. I couldn't even get a break to catch my breath when I saw a vehicle pull up in front of the house. Instantly, I knew who had come.

"They're back!" someone called out. Already more than half of everyone here had arrived. "Someone get Jill! They have returned!" I felt a brush past me, but paid it no attention. Instead I slowly approached the Wrangler, eager to one again see familiar faces. Eventually my eagerness got the better of me, and I was soon running towards it and gathering with the others. The driver's door opened, and out came Hank. But he didn't look happy. He actually looked panicked.

"We need some help ere! Now!" Two others rushed to his aid, but also blocked the view of the rear door. I struggled to see, and soon did when one of them backed away with Wyatt's arm over his shoulders, the other arm against his chest with traces of blood staining his sleeve. Next came Milo, being carried in the second soldier's and Hank's arms. His leg was soaked with the very same red liquid. I stood aside as they went by into the house. Once they were gone, I noticed something missing. Looking in the car, I found it was empty. And that meant only one thing. It was something I wish wasn't true. Still, I had to know. My feet carried me swiftly inside to find Wyatt sitting on one of the recliners with Jill tending to his wound.

"Wyatt!"

"Jason. It is good to see you again" he rasped. He then signaled for me to sit by his side with a gentle gesture of his hand. "What is it you need?"

"Where's Mathias?" I couldn't control myself, and it had just slipped out. Right away I regretted it as his face turned grim.

"Jason...I am so sorry." His eyes moved down in sorrow, and Jill's hands dropped. There were no other signs needed to know what they were on about. My head sunk low into my hands that stretched across from my knees. It seemed that my heart had skipped a beat. Once again, I had lost another who I had thought to be family, or at least as close as they could ever be. But I also knew that it didn't hit me the hardest. When Lydia found out, she may have been upset. Even if she did act as if she hated him. Wyatt must have been hit hard as well by it.

"H-how did it h-happen?" I stammered, fearing that he had suffered. He sighed in sadness, reluctant to answer. Though he still did.

"It all happened so fast. There was no way of seeing it coming..."


Wyatt's POV, Thirty-Five Minutes Ago...


The ringing in my ears from the blast was enough for one day. But it seemed that my luck was about to change. I could not hear any gunfire, but I saw bullets rip through the air over the blockade ahead of me. My legs were beginning to feel numb from the rubble that covered them. The wall had been blasted in from the fuel tank, and from what I could see, despite my slightly blurred vision, almost the rest of the outpost was a smoldering ruin. The sky was dark and thick with smoke. It seemed that our plan had worked a little too well. I began to crawl myself out from the debris. Slowly, my hearing began to come back. The first sign was the familiar cursing.

"Come ere, ye bastards! I've got enough for all of you!" With my handgun in hand, I fully crawled out and pulled myself up against half a destroyed wall. With quick glances, I analysed the situation. Mathias was standing in the remains of the tower, using two pistols to fire in both directions. Milo lay next to a bullet-riddled armored car. Seven KPA remained, two on Milo's side and the rest on the other. I took it upon myself to fire a round at them, but my aim was off, even though I was using my good arm.

"Mathias!" I shouted, using his real name instead of code name. It was against protocol to do such a thing, but at the time it hadn't come to mind. "Cover me!" He nodded and fired both pistols towards the north gate. I only just managed to stand on my wobbly legs and stumbled over to the injured Russian. A KPA rounded the vehicle and prepared to fire at the injured man. Before he could, I fired a well-aimed shot into his face. A spray of blood went out the back. By the time he fell, I was by my friend's side.

"Wyatt? Dat y..you?" he slurred, his eyes looking delirious from obvious blood loss.

"Come on, tough guy. Let's get you out of here." I wrapped my bad arm under his shoulder and pulled him up. It hurt at first, but I went with the pain and continued to do so. With my other hand, I held my weapon out in front of me. We stumbled over with heavy fire all around and made it unharmed over to the guard tower. Mathias ducked down in front of us and loaded in another two magazines. "We need to leave."

"W..we'll never make it. Too...many" Milo wheezed, barely able to speak through the coughing. The smoke was getting into him. And us too. We could barely breath in the poisonous air. I looked back towards the soldiers. They were advancing quickly. There was only one solution I could think of.

"One of us has to stay. We are all injured, and won't all make it. I-"

"I will." I opened my mouth to argue. "An' don't even tink about arguin' about it. Nathin' is gonna change me mind." I closed it right away. I was very reluctant to leave. But it was his decision. Though before leaving, I put a hand to his shoulder.

"See you on the other side." He nodded, then readied his pistols. "On my go." We waited till the right moment, then I brought my hand down, and he shot up, firing both pistols. I pulled Milo to his feet, then over my shoulders and ran for the south gate. We were just past it when I looked back. Mathias had run out of ammo, and instead of reloading, he dropped the pistols and took two more from his holsters. If there was one thing he liked to do, it was going full badass in battle. "Goodbye, my friend" was the last I said before leaving the Irishman behind.


Thirty-Five Minutes After...


I let out another sigh once I had finished. By his expression, Jason was very upset. But unusually, he was also quite calm.

"He died a hero" I began. "Even in the end, he thought as if it was just a simple fight. He went out doing what he did best. And that was fighting." My hands clasped together under my chin, the bandage tightening slightly at my arm. "This is why we must continue. Because of people like him. We fight to save everyone's freedom. And he died for that. Remember that, kid." He nodded, and without another word, he turned away. Little did I know was that there was another listener right around the corner in the hall. And that other listener had been hit the hardest, despite the feelings that she had showed to others.

"Should we tell Lydia?" Jill queried. I heard running just outside of the room, and shook my head.

"I have a feeling that she already knows." Jill stood up and began to turn, but I grabbed her hand and kept her there. "Let her deal with it. She needs some time alone." She nodded and sat back down to continue tending to me. I winced as the threading needle pierced my skin once more. It was painful, but necessary.


Jason's POV


The news had hit real hard, knowing that the man that had saved me from death itself, was gone. In truth, I wished I had been braver and stronger. Maybe, just maybe, I could have saved him. But it was too late for that. I moved through the house silently, hoping that some exploring would clear my mind. Though it did very much the opposite, because up the stairs I heard crying. It was quiet, muffled crying that sounded like someone with a pillow over their face. Curiosity got the better of me and I saw that it was exactly that. And much more.

Lydia was face planting into a pillow and punching it, swearing here and there. It seemed that she had heard the news, and wasn't taking it well. I was hesitant at first, but eventually knocked on the door. She stopped and her glare fixed on me. Tears streamed down her face, and she was quick to wipe them away before sitting up.

"What do you want?" she snapped, facing away to the side now. I took a step forward, being cautious in case she had a weapon on her.

"Just wanted to see how you were. And by what I've seen, you aren't going well." Her glare came back around, her eyes sharp like daggers.

"I am fine!" she almost shouted. But the tear forming told me otherwise. I took another step, and surprisingly she relaxed. "Fine. I'm not. What did you expect?! That I'd be glad my father was dead?!" I put my hands up defensively and shook my head.

"No! I would never. I know you still cared for him, even after what he did-" I stopped myself before I could continue, but it was too late. She let out an exasperated sigh and looked to the floor.

"Wyatt told you, didn't he?" I nodded and she snorted. "Of course he did. He seems to tell every new person around here." Once again, she looked at me. Then, she moved over and patted the bed next to her. "Come on then. I'm not going to bite." Cautiously, I stepped over and sat down, but with a large enough distance between us. She rolled her eyes, and we were silent for a time.

"I know how you feel." She frowned at me in confusion.

"No, you don't. Your parents are most likely alive. Mine are dead." I shook my head lightly.

"See, that's the thing. My parents...aren't my real parents" I confessed. I heard her stifle a gasp. "They died when I was eight years old. The KPA had reached Chester a month after my birthday. And it turned out that they had planted spies to target the biggest threats. My parents made it on that list. My father was in the army, and my mother was a nurse." I paused, hesitant about continuing, then continued. "My father was a lot like Mathias. Not in looks, but personality. That's why I took a liking to him almost straight away. Because he reminded me of him." I sighed and my gaze fell to the floor. There were no tears from me, for I had learnt how to cope with it. Still, it was sad to talk about. But not hard.

"I'm sorry" she said sorrowfully. She rested a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I felt a warmth at the touch. "I'm gonna get sleep. Do you mind?"

"No, I don't. I'll go now." She smiled thankfully and I walked out.

"And Jason," I turned one last time. "Thanks." I nodded and left her, closing the door behind me.


And there you have it. The truth of Jason's past. Hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you next time :)