A Story of Cinders: From the Ashes

Chapter 36: Snow

     Will and Nox stepped on the craft last. Silent. Focused. Everyone was. They were all sitting down, keeping to themselves, and performing their own pre-battle rituals. Charlie was sharpening his kukri, his Galil resting between his legs. John's M4 rifle was disassembled, the parts individually being scrubbed and oiled before being put back together. Louis was sound asleep. Red was in a near-meditative state, unable to be stirred. Will looked over these warriors. They looked like they could damn near take on anything. He smiled, despite the severity of their circumstances. "Anybody need anything else before we take off?" They all shook their heads. "Good." He banged on the door to the cockpit. Simmons, who was piloting the craft, banged on the door back. The craft trembled, then lifted into the air silently. It felt like it was being pulled into the air by the hand of God, picking up a little figure from His model Earth, deciding it would look much better about a thousand miles north. Will and Nox sat down, beginning their ritual of weapon maintenance. Apart from the low growl of the engines, the grinding of steel on whetstone, and the dull clunking of gunmetal clattering to the ground, it was quiet. When Charlie finished with his weapons, he pulled out his karda and went to work retouching his engravings, his thumb running over the jagged-looking Cyrilic. The grainy wood of the cut-up stock ran rough against his thumb. His thoughts drew to the word, and to the woman to whom it belonged. Marissa. He smiled a slight, bittersweet smile. The glint of Will's chrome-plated .45 caught his eye, snapping him out of his trance. Will was smiling. "You okay there, Charlie?" he asked.

"Yeah. Fine," he said halfheartedly. He pulled his coat back over himself, shrugging his shoulders. It fit more snugly around him now. Will saw why.

"Body armor, huh?" He asked.

"Yeah wised up to the idea after that whole Gael ordeal."

"I thought it slowed you down too much," John chimed in.

"It does. I'm just using the chestpiece anyway. The only reason that prick beat me was because I couldn't get through his armor."

"Sure it was..." Will remarked.

"Fuck off. I don't see you with any," Charlie retorted, commenting on Will's suit.

"Ballistic weave," Will said, popping the lapel of his blazer. "Stops bullets without the bulk."

"Sorry I'm not made of money."

"What do you spend all that bounty money on?"

"What the fuck do you think?"

"Yep. Knew it as soon as I said it."

"Will you two shut up?" Louis groaned. "I'm trying to sleep." Charlie and Will rolled their eyes, going back to the silence. Charlie leaned back his eyes and passed out.

When he next opened them, they were still on the craft. "How far out are we?" Charlie asked anyone in particular.

"Probably still about a half hour out from the jump point," John said.

"Jump point?"

"Yeah, Will and Nox have to go by themselves. So we're jumping about 20 miles out."

"I'm really hoping someone brought parachutes."

"It's a figure of speech. We're too low altitude to jump, so they're landing for us. Meeting won't be until tomorrow anyhow."

"Wasn't hoping to spend that much time here."

"Shit happens."

"Yeah." Charlie stood up, walking over to the door. He pulled the handle and slid the door open to have a cigarette. A blast of cold, autumn air smacked him in the face. Quickly he shut his eyes, then slowly opened them again. What he saw was gray. Dark, soft gray as far as he could see. Gray sky, gray ground, gray mountains. The ground and the sky blended seamlessly on its horizon, creating a voidlike illusion. He couldn't tell what was Earth and what was the heavens. Nothing but a boundless gray purgatory. From the sky, small gray flakes gently floated down. Some landed in the craft. Volcanic ash. Probably from Mount Saint Helens. Or Rainier. He sat down with his feet dangling out of the cabin and lit up a cigarette, intending to add to the ash. He closed his eyes, inhaling the smoke.

Come home. He could still hear her voice. The last words she said to him. Promise me you'll come home. He remembered her saying as she draped the cross around his neck.

He took another drag.

Promise me you'll be here when I get back. He remembered telling her as he slipped he ring over her finger. A simple silver band with a cross cut into it over her right ring finger. He never saw her again.

He exhaled, the smoke dissipating into the gray air like an apparition. Or a formless memory.