James reached down, his fingers brushing against the cold metal of her dog tags. He unclipped one, sliding it onto his necklace. It clinked softly against the others—four now. James exhaled slowly, the breath leaving his body heavier than usual.

  He looked down at Ava’s lifeless form, her silver hair matted with sweat and blood, her once-fierce blue eyes now empty.

  She had died free. That was all he could give her and a proper burial .

  James stepped back, turned away, and entered the reactor room.

  The air changed the moment he stepped inside.

  It was humid, suffocating, the heat from the reactor pressing against his skin. The entire room was built deep into the earth, the walls lined with reinforced steel.

  At the center, the reactor pulsed, a massive cylindrical core filled with an eerie blue glow, Cherenkov radiation swirling behind thick containment glass. Power lines snaked across the floor, connecting to massive control panels covered in flickering warning lights.

  The room felt alive—humming, breathing, as if the bunker itself had a heartbeat.

  James barely spared it a glance. He was here to kill it.

  He pulled out the three remaining Helixion mines, stepping forward with steady, deliberate movements. He placed the first mine on the main coolant panel, the adhesive locking into place with a sharp click.

  The second mine went on the containment unit, right where the power cables met the core.

  The third and final charge was placed at the reactor control panel.

  Once they detonated, the overload would be unstoppable.

  James stepped back, rolling his now bruised shoulder the gunshot wound having healed. His body ached, the rest of his wounds throbbing. He turned and walked toward Ava’s body.

  For a moment, he just stood there.

  Looking down at her.

  James knelt and lifted Ava into his arms, his muscles straining from exhaustion, but he didn’t stop. He adjusted her weight, making sure her head rested against his shoulder, then walked out of the third floor.

  Behind him, the bunker hummed one last time.

  The countdown had begun.

  James followed a narrow maintenance corridor, his boots echoing through the empty passage. The bunker was eerily silent, abandoned. Everyone left inside was already dead or hiding in the forth floor.

  Ahead, a steel door led to an old loading dock. He pushed it open with his foot, stepping out into the cool night air.

  The bunker was built near the edge of a flooded industrial zone, and beyond the docks, the black water stretched out, still and endless.

  A single boat was tied to the dock, a pre-war motor skiff, rusted but still intact.

  James didn’t hesitate.

  He walked onto the dock, setting Ava down gently before stepping onto the boat. His hands worked automatically, untying the mooring ropes and priming the ancient engine. It coughed, sputtered—then roared to life.

  James stepped back onto the dock, lifting Ava one last time, and laid her down on the boat’s bench.

  The engine rumbled beneath them, a steady heartbeat of escape.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  James took his seat at the helm and turned the throttle.

  The boat pulled away, cutting through the water, leaving the bunker shrinking in the distance.

  He didn’t look back at first.

  He just let the wind hit his face, cooling the blood and sweat that clung to his skin.

  Then—

  The night was swallowed by fire.

  A massive explosion tore through the earth, sending shockwaves across the water, the force rocking the boat.

  James finally turned, watching as the bunker collapsed in on itself, flames erupting from every opening, debris shooting into the sky like shrapnel from a dying beast.

  The ground trembled, sending ripples across the water, but James just watched in silence.

  James exhaled, reaching up and touching the four dog tags around his neck.

  One more.

  Ava had been the fourth.

  But she wouldn’t be the last.

  James had made it back to his car by sunrise. He opened the trunk, carefully placing Ava’s body inside. She would be buried near Kelly—the only farewell he could give her.

  But first, he needed his money.

  James drove to CAI’s headquarters, pulling up to the towering corporate building. As he stepped out, George was already waiting.

  “That was… fast,” George said, arms crossed.

  “Yeah, well, I was already looking for them,” James replied, his tone flat.

  George exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, thanks for the help.” He reached into his pocket and handed James a credit chip, its weight solid in his palm. “So, where are you off to? If you’re sticking around, I might have more work for you.”

  James pocketed the chip and shook his head. “No, I’m good. I came to do something, and it’s done. Plus, I hate the swamp.”

  He paused, then fished a small, black card from his jacket and handed it to George.

  “But if you ever need another MGI removal, give me a call.”

  George smirked and took the card. They shook hands, a brief, firm gesture of mutual understanding.

  With that, James left.

  James drove non-stop, the endless roads passing in a blur. By the time he reached the small town where Kelly was buried, the sky had begun to darken again.

  He grabbed a shovel and started digging.

  The process was methodical, quiet. No prayers, no words—just the steady rhythm of dirt being moved.

  When the grave was ready, James placed Ava beside Kelly, giving her one last look before covering the earth. That was it.

  James sat by the two graves, a bottle of whiskey in hand. He drank straight from the bottle, the burn settling in his chest, as he stared at the two roughly marked sites in the dirt.

  He didn’t cry. Didn’t even feel the need to.

  He just sat there, remembering their childhood the good parts of it.

  The night stretched long, and when the first rays of morning light crept over the horizon, James sighed.

  He stood, took the half-empty bottle, and poured the rest onto the graves, the whiskey soaking into the earth.

  "I’ll see you both again," he muttered. "But you’ll have to wait—I don’t plan on going out anytime soon."

  He paused.

  "Say hi to Tyler for me."

  James turned, heading back to his car, still unsure of where to go next.

  Then his phone rang.

  James answered. “Hello?”

  A pause. Then a voice.

  “Is this Mr. Grayson?”

  James frowned slightly. The voice was young, female, unfamiliar. “Yes, it is.”

  A shaky breath on the other end.

  “I’m Rebecca. I’m Liam’s daughter.”

  James’ expression darkened slightly. Liam.

  “I see. Is there a problem? It’s only been a month.”

  Rebecca’s voice was tight, strained. “I’m sure you’re aware that the war has started, but it’s gotten really bad. My brother… he’s trying to join.”

  James said nothing.

  “Please, I know I’m asking for a lot, but I can’t lose him too. If there’s anything you can do…”

  Silence stretched for a moment.

  Then James said, “I’m on my way.”

  James started his car, the engine roaring to life. He reached into his console, sliding in a holo-disc as he pulled out onto the road.

  The slow, deep guitar picks filled the cabin, a steady, haunting rhythm like a march into the unknown.

  “Smoke rises, sky burns red…”

  James nodded along, his fingers tapping the wheel.

  “Ghosts walk where the lost have bled…”

  He didn’t know where this road would take him.

  But he didn’t care.