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It’s smoke, too, and it thickens as we walk, the air warming with each step. As we get closer, I blink to keep the sting at bay. Kenzie glances back at me, and I know she feels it, too.
    The heat.
    Forest fires at this time of year?  Doesn’t make sense. Everything’s dry and brittle, yes, but frozen at night. It’s too cold. It’s possible, I suppose—anything’s possible, these days.
    The dark fear that’s been riding my shoulders these last few hours grips at my throat. The base is burning , it says.  There’s nothing left there. Get out now, while you can.  But we have to find out. We can’t turn back.
    I release the safety on my Bolt, and, following Jahnu’s lead, crouch and run as quietly as possible up over a rise toward what looks to be the source of the smoke. The heat from the fire is intense enough that I start to sweat. Jahnu stops at the edge of the tree line. We're at the top of the small hill looking down on a large clearing. Crouching beneath a bush, he beckons us ahead, and we join him. The clearing, probably a hundred meters long, contains the crumbled, blackened, still-smoking ruins of a building, and the charred remains of trees, bushes, and anything that once lived here. Radiant heat washes over my skin.  What a blaze , I think, suddenly reminded of the funeral pyres people built during the Famine Years for the dead. This was the outpost.  Was . Here and there, the remains of the building still smolder, orange and white coals glowing in the twilight. It must have been destroyed within the last few hours.
    “Fuck,” Firestone swears under his breath.
    “What happened here?” Jahnu whispers. None of us has an answer. I squint into the surrounding forest and up at the evening sky—was this the work of drones?—and wish once again I had my contacts.
    Then, a shout from across the clearing.
    “Nothing my way, Captain. The others are dead or long gone,” a man calls. We each drop to the ground instinctively. The fading light of day has taken on the sheen of cut steel in the smoke and blue twilight. Through the shroud of ash and haze, I can see silhouettes move on the other side of the clearing.
    “We’ve still got the woman,” a female voice calls back.
    “They got a prisoner,” Firestone mouths.
    The man laughs. “And she’s not going anywhere fast.”
    “We’re outnumbered,” I whisper. “If these soldiers were here to take out the base, there are probably two squads, minimum. Twenty soldiers. Against four?”
    “That’ll make the general’s day,” the man replies.
    The general?  I shudder at memories of General Aulion, the former mentor whose stoic cruelty left more of a mark on me than any words of advice ever could have.
    Firestone glares at me. I can see the anger in his eyes, the defiance. He’s not leaving without a fight.
    I shake my head.
    “They got a prisoner,” he repeats, more slowly, as if I hadn’t quite understood him the first time. He doesn’t have to say the second part, the threat, the doubt.  Are you with us or not, Vale?  I hold his eyes for a moment longer, willing him to back down. He doesn’t.
    “Fine,” I hiss, between gritted teeth. “But this is pure idiocy. If their airship isn’t already here, it’ll be back any minute. If we’re going to mount a rescue, we need to move now.”
    Firestone finally drops his eyes from mine. He turns to Jahnu.
    “You’re on point. Vale, Kenzie, shadow him. I’ll rearguard. Leave the packs. We’ll get ’em later.” I see the dull sheen of metal as the three of them ready their weapons. “We’ve got the element of surprise. Take ’em out quietly. Bolts set to mid-range. We want to incapacitate them for a good long while, get the prisoner, and get out. We only shoot to kill if we’ve no other choice.” Kenzie and Jahnu nod. I bite my tongue. The question of how far we’ll get with a wounded prisoner and a squad of armed soldiers on our tail will have to wait.
    The dull thud of anger