The compounds are such bleak, barren places, I think, as I pass through them. These should be the first to go. Our homes should be rebuilt. Restored.
We need to start again.
I climb up the side of one of the little compound homes. Climb its second story, too. I reach up, clinging to the roof, and pull myself over. I kick the solar panels off, onto the ground, and plant myself on top, right in the middle, as I look out over the crowd.
Searching for familiar faces.
Hoping they’ll see me and come forward. Hoping.
I stand on the roof of this home for what feels like days, months, years, and I see nothing but faces of soldiers and their families. None of my friends.
I feel myself sway, dizziness threatening to overtake me, my pulse racing fast and hard. I’m ready to give up. I’ve stood here long enough for people to point, for my face to be recognized, for word to spread that I’m standing here, waiting for something. Someone. Anyone.
I’m just about to dive back into the crowd to search for their fallen bodies when hope seizes my heart.
One by one, they emerge, from all corners of the field, from deep inside the barracks, from across the compounds. Bloodied and bruised. Adam, Alia, Castle, Ian, Lily, Brendan, and Winston each make their way toward me only to turn and wait for the others to arrive. Winston is sobbing.
Sonya and Sara are dragging Kenji out of the barracks, small steps hauling him forward. I see that his eyes have opened now, just a little. Stubborn, stubborn Kenji. Of course he’s awake when he should be asleep.
James comes running toward them.
He crashes into Adam, clinging to his legs, and Adam hauls his little brother up, into his arms, smiling like I’ve never seen him smile before. Castle nods at me, beaming. Lily blows me a kiss. Ian makes some strange finger-gun motion and Brendan waves. Alia has never looked more jubilant.
And I’m looking out over them, my smile steady, held there by nothing but sheer force of will. I’m still staring, waiting for my last friend to show up. Waiting for him to find us.
But he isn’t here.
I’m scanning the thousands of people scattered around this icy, icy ground and I don’t see him, not anywhere, and the terror of this moment kicks me in the gut until I’m out of breath and out of hope, blinking fast and trying to hold myself together.
The metal roof under my feet is shaking.
I turn toward the sound, heart pounding, and see a hand reach over the top.
