When he wakes, the images from his dream are still fresh enough in his mind to recall all the details. As he sits upright, he rubs at his hands to ward off the feeling of asphalt digging into his palms without even noticing, and he can taste a strange hint of copper in his mouth ( Read more... )

This year, the rolling green lawns at Arlington haven't been paved over with asphalt; the rows upon rows of white marble headstones haven't been bulldozed to build hundreds of columbariums in their stead ( Read more... )

Eight months after arriving in Zimbabwe, he got his first chance to take some leave -- some of the volunteers took advantage of the break to go home, visit family, or return to 'civilization' for a bit -- and he promptly disappeared ( Read more... )

He's got the bag of burgers and fries in one hand, and a six-pack of cold beers in the other as they ascend the staircase towards the rooms. Thankfully, his room hasn't moved (or if it has, Bar has been kind enough to put it back where it was when he left) and everything seems to be in order as they step inside ( Read more... )

He's got everything he thinks he's going to need for a possible extended stay out in his world spread out on the bed in front of him; two empty duffel bags sit on nearby chairs, waiting to be used. Clothes, laptop, a few assorted books and maps, cash, his weapon and three spare magazines, chargers for electronics, running shoes and combat boots, ( Read more... )

Carl's got both hands free as he and Trudy make their way upstairs -- Bar 'helpfully' gave them a napkin telling them not to bother with the bottle of scotch or the glasses because she'd have them upstairs waiting -- and he's actually rather grateful for this small detail when they reach the door that will lead them to room 165 ( Read more... )

The hardest conversations to have are the ones where nobody speaks.

"We don't even have Arlington anymore. They built over it. Seventy years ago, It's...it's still Arlington, I guess, but it's buildings housing urns. They dug everyone up and cremated 'em, needed the fucking space."His men. His commanders. His friends ( Read more... )

It had taken a bit of work on his end -- thankfully, he had contacts in high places in London that had been able to get him what he needed in regards to Trudy's identification and passport visas, because flying into Edinburgh would likely have been very interesting had someone wanted to know how Trudy got from the United States to England in the ( Read more... )

[after this]

They make their way into the kitchens, ignoring the various looks given to them by the waitrats (and the rats running around the kitchen in aprons and little white chef hats) as they head for the walk-in cooler ( Read more... )

[two & a half weeks after this]He can't remember how he got to this bar, but he supposes it doesn't matter, in the long run ( Read more... )