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was trying to be strong. She was trying to
be brave. But I could see her knees and hands shaking. I could hear
her voice tremble.
    She began the climb. A few seconds later, the
mad soldier slammed the trap door shut. He looked at me with his
wild eyes. And I knew he was going to kill me.
     

Chapter 8
    The mad soldier stared at me for a few seconds. His eyes were
glazed over.
    “ When nuclear weapons were first
invented,” he said, “They tested the effects of them on humans.
They would chain up prisoners and criminals and test subjects. They
would put them at various distances from ground zero. The people
closest to the blast would be incinerated and vaporized
immediately. Further out, they would be burnt to a crisp. And even
further out than that, they would still be burnt, but they would
survive. At least they would survive for a few days. Over the
course of a few days, or a week, they would slowly die from their
burns or from radiation poisoning. Some would take longer. Some
lived long enough to develop cancer. What is worse? I don’t
know.”
    “ Please,” I begged. “I can
help.”
    I said I could help even though I wasn’t
entirely sure that I could.
    He had Maria. She was all he needed.
    “ But all of that,” he continued,
ignoring my plea. “All of that pales in comparison to what is going
on down here. Down here, in this place, in this desert, it is hell.
And General Spears is the devil. Don’t get me wrong, he is a
brilliant man. A genius, really. But don’t you dare cross him. You
don’t do it. It is better his way.”
    He looked up to the sky. “Now, where is that
goddamn drone? I know he’s watching.”
    He spun around, looking, searching and
shielding his eyes from the sunlight. “Where are you!? I found her.
I have the goddess. I have Maria Marsh. You have to let me
in!”
    There was something I didn’t see before. A
short distance away from the trap door was a whole bunch of severed
hands, arranged in a message.
    The message said:
     
    Let me in…
     
    Big letters. Big enough to be seen from the
sky.
    He was now arranging more hands. Another
message.
    It took him about ten minutes to get the
severed hands in the right position.
     
    I have Maria Marsh…
     
    “ Please,” I said again. “Maria wants
to help. Believe me. She does. But she will be more likely to
cooperate if I’m there with her. She won’t fight you. She won’t
struggle if I’m there.”
    The mad soldier looked up to the sun. Stared at
the sun. After a few minutes he lowered his gaze. And when he
looked at me his eyes were unfocused and bloodshot. His pupils were
pinpoints.
    “ No,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. You
cannot be allowed to live. The General would not want it. He
doesn’t like weakness. He doesn’t like outsiders.”
    “ I’m not weak. I will help. I
will.”
    He took out a knife.
    He held it up.
    And I knew he was going to do it. He was
brandishing the knife. Waving it back and forth like an evil and
crazy conductor.
    I looked away and focused on the desert
horizon. Adrenalin surged in my chest and made me feel
sick.
    I remembered this one time, when me and Jack
and Maria went fishing in this isolated cove of Sydney harbor.
Well, it was supposed to be isolated and protected. The wind picked
up in the afternoon. The swell picked up. We were only in a small
boat. It started rocking back and forth. I immediately felt sea
sick. Jack told me to stare at the horizon. Pick out one spot and
focus on it. Maria caught a fish. Big enough to eat for dinner.
Jack scaled it and gutted it, which made me feel even worse. But
the longer I stared at the horizon, the better I felt.
    So, as the mad soldier brandished a hunting
knife and looked at his teeth in the reflection of the blade, I
stared at the horizon. I picked out one spot. A small black mark on
the horizon.
    I saw a shape.
    A dark blob.
    I felt less nauseous.
    And then I heard a gunshot. It was faded and
distant. The noise echoed across the desert. Two