Denver turned out to be a dense hub of civilization compared to other places they'd seen along the way. Granted, they had generally avoided cities and towns, preferring to do as little as possible to draw attention to themselves. There'd been more cars closer to Colorado and the blurry borders between Free America and the Chicago-based United States, and they'd been able to catch rides the last hundred miles into the city.

There were only a few military checkpoints, and they were largely passive and manned by idle guards and disinterested police forces. There was electricity throughout the city, something which was hit or miss in other places, thriving restaurants, theaters, even internet cafes, strip clubs, and marijuana distributors. They got directions from an off-duty policeman who was walking with his wife and young daughter along the edge of a park, and set off to find the headquarters of the Denver Patriots.

They had no money, but they found people were willing to buy them a meal if Hitch shared his reason for being in town, bringing sympathetic tones and wishes of good fortune. They washed up at a public area with children who danced through high arcing water from the fountains. While they kept their clothes on, soaking them in the process, it was much needed after several days without anywhere to do so.

The headquarters of Patriot Brigade was nondescript compared to the buildings surrounding it. Gaudy sales fronts and tall office towers threatened to consume the squat, gray, rectangular structure on the south side of downtown. There wasn't even a guard placed at its door.

Hitch and Kieu-Linh stepped inside and saw others sitting behind desks, a half-counter separating the workspaces from a sterile waiting area. A young woman, no more than twenty, greeted them warmly. “Can I help you?” The name on her patch over her plain, green shirt said 'Collins.'

Hitch hesitated. It was just sinking in that they had, somehow, just walked from western North Carolina all the way to Denver, excepting the spare miles near the end. It was a hump worthy of legend in the Corps, he thought. At least no one was shooting at us. “Y-yes. I'm Major James Hitchens. I am looking to find my daughter.”

“Okay...” the girl said, momentarily distracted by her phone. “Is she with the Patriots?”

“I think so. Her name is Willow Hitchens?”

“Colonel Hitchens?”

“I'm not really sure... she has a tattoo, just here,” he said, pointing at the spot on his neck where his daughter had so perfectly covered the birthmark with the eagle, globe, and anchor of the Marine Corps.”

“Sounds like the Colonel.” Collins glanced back behind her as someone called for her attention. “Uh, be right back.”

Hitch stood as patiently as he could, holding Kieu-Linh's hand. He was nervous. Could Willow really be alive? Do I dare start to believe? His young wife smiled at him, and he saw nervous excitement in her expression. He got goosebumps for the first time in years.

“Uh,” the woman said when she returned, “Colonel Hitchens is not here. Don't know when she'll be back.”

“Does she come by regularly?”

Collins looked at him funny, “you are looking for Colonel Hitchens, right?”

“Like I said, I don't know her rank. I just know she was with the Patriots here and her name is Willow Hitchens. She's my daughter.”

The woman considered him a moment. “No. Not regularly. Not with the fighting going on to the south. Doubt she's been back here in months.”

“Do you know how I might find her, then?”

“You said you're a Major?” Collins asked. Hitch nodded. “Don't really think I'm going to give out that sort of information, do you?”

“No... No, I understand... I just...” He felt the need to explain. “I thought she died around Chelan, over a decade ago. I haven't seen her in much longer. I've come all the way from North Carolina to find out if she's still alive. Please... is there nothing you can do?”

Collins chewed a pen a minute, then said, “wait here a sec. Corporal Snyder!”

A young man about the same age stepped forward and stood in front of her. “Please find Captain Justice, if you can. I need her a moment.”

The man gave her an exasperated look, rolled his eyes, and muttered, “yes, Sir,” without enthusiasm before turning and heading out a door on the side of the room.

“Have a seat, I don't know how long this might take. There are coffee and danishes down the hall. Help yourself.” Collins turned her back on them and went back behind a desk, sitting down.

Hitch looked at Kieu-Linh, frustrated, but he saw her resolve and he swallowed his anxiety, settling into a stiff chair beside his wife. She leaned against him, and in moments, had fallen asleep.

Hitch picked up snippets of conversation. This may have been headquarters, but it was clearly not handling military affairs, at least not in the combat sense. Instead of briefings and updates from the field, or even requisition instructions from quartermasters, he heard people laughing over a video on screen, another chatting gaily with a familiar confidant, still another arguing about whether something he'd ordered came with a free magnet.

It was like being on a distant version of the world he knew. If he thought back hard enough, he could remember places like this, back before The War, when this would have been 'normal.' After so many years, sleeping in muddy trenches and trying to stuff a young mans intestines back inside him, after living day-to-day on what he could hunt, and what he could scavenge, this place made no sense anymore. It felt like he had stepped into an old movie which comically ignored the much harsher realities outside of the witty dialog and slapstick effects.

He started to doze as well, almost sliding onto his side. Kieu-Linh snored lightly against him and he tightened his arm around her shoulder. It rushed into him how much he had in this young woman's companionship. All the suffering, all his self-loathing, all the times when she'd needed to be strong just so that he could feed off her and keep going, she still wished to give. She still wanted him with her in all things. This was no meek or needful girl. Kieu-Linh had become a strong, amazing woman capable of loving him even in his worst of moments.

She rarely complained, and even when she did, it was a sarcastic observation more true than exaggerated. Her view of the world had felt, at first, naïve and pollyannaish, but he found out differently over the year or so he'd been with her. Kieu-Linh had a remarkable ability to push away the things she couldn't control, and a strength and the wits to fight for those she could.

It was then that thoughts of Julia came back to him. Faded, blurry. He had a hard time remembering her face, or her scent, or the feelings he'd had for her so long ago. Hitch couldn't recall when he'd let all that go. Even during his years alone, those images, those memories of Julia had been vivid, painful and warm all at once. Now, he saw they no longer had the depth to bring the sadness creeping back in. It wasn't that he'd lost that love for her, it had just become alright to let someone else take that place in his life.

He kissed Kieu-Linh's forehead gently. She shifted and stirred, looking up at him, eyes sleepy but sharp and alert. “I was just dreaming about you,” she said softly.

“Something nice I hope.”

“It was. We found your daughter and she was beautiful and kind and wanted to come live with us.”

“That does sound nice.”

“I thought so. She—“

The room spun a moment, and Hitch closed his eyes to clear what must be exhaustion and nerves from his mind.

“Majooor Hitchens?” a deep voice called out. Hitch turned from Kieu-Linh to see a woman in fatigues leaning against a post in the middle of the waiting area.

“Yes?”

“Folloooow me.”

Hitch and Kieu-Linh stood and trailed behind the short woman whose gait was a little less than stable.

They were led into a small office and waited while the woman held onto the edge of the desk a moment before sitting heavily in a padded chair. She swept her hand across as if to suggest they sit, her eyes barely registering their presence. The woman's name patch read 'Justice'

“Whaaat ish it you need, Majooor?”

“I'm looking for my daughter. Willow Hitchens. Possibly Colonel Hitchens. Can you tell me how to reach her?”

Justice sat askew, leaning on her elbow on the desk, eyes unfocused and slowly closing. She snapped up quickly, “Cooolonel Hitchens. Your daughter, huh.” Slouching a moment, she reached into her desk and pulled out a pill schedule container, tamping several into her hand, then swallowing them with a shaky tip of her mug. “Cooolonel Hitchens. I cannot tell you where sheee ish, Majooor.”

“I know, I understand that. Can I at least get a message to her?”

Justice blinked slowly twice, then leaned forward. “Not at thishhh time. But!” There was an odd pause. “I caaan let you leave it here. Fooor Cooolonel Hitchens.”

“I don't have a phone, o-or an address. I don't know where I'll be staying.”

Justice pulled a cane from next to a small file cabinet and rose to her feet, using it to push upright, then returned it to its previous spot. “Sheee... doesn't come by often. But! I'll seeee that sheee gets it. When sheee comes. Might beee a long time, Majooor.” The woman pushed a piece of paper and a pen awkwardly in front of him. He quickly jotted down a note for his daughter, then pushed it back to Captain Justice.

“Gooood day, Majooor.” The woman said, dismissing him.

As they left the room and the Captain behind, Kieu-Linh whispered, “is she drunk?”

“I don't think so.”

“She seemed drunk,” the girl said without malice.

Hitch stopped beside the counter and caught Collins' attention. “Captain Justice, where'd she get hit?”

The young woman's eyes went automatically towards the office, then down at the desk. “Near Colorado Springs. She took an indirect to the head from an RPG trying to pull some Army grunts from a burning Humvee.” Collins looked up at Hitch. “She saved four lives before she got hit.”

Hitch nodded, “Semper Fi,” he said quietly as they walked out.

“How'd you know?” Kieu-Linh asked.

“Several things,” Hitch replied, “the scars in her hair, the cane.” He fired angrily a moment. “That asshole Snyder... the one Collins sent to find her... he acted like it was a chore to go get her. Goddamn him. That woman is a hero. He has no fucking idea what it's like out there, the shit that happens to people on the line. They joke and they drink sodas and complain about how much they have to do before they go home for the day, and that woman saved people from being killed by the enemy... how dare they mock her. They have no idea.”

He'd begun to fume as he stood outside the building. Kieu-Linh watched him a moment, not saying anything. “And when they wonder why she's slow, or draws out her words, I can just hear them laughing about her behind her back. Monsters. Fucking monsters. They have no idea what she sacrificed... what she bought with that...”

“Okay, James. Okay.” Kieu-Linh's soft words took the edge off.

It had been some time since Hitch had grown angry so quickly. It had boiled out without warning. He'd seen enough wounded Marines, some with injuries like those of Captain Justice. Some had been his men. He's always visited the hospitals whenever he could, and though it tore him apart, he spent his time with each, listening to their thoughts, if they could speak at all. Some could only stare and blink and offer a shaky, pathetic salute to acknowledge his presence, if they could move at all. So many could not.

“They have no idea, Kieu-Linh. They see her as slow. They see her as less than a woman. She paid a high price to protect people, maybe even someone they know. It makes me sick.” He'd lost steam, the rage boiling over and leaving behind vapors and sadness.

Kieu-Linh took his hand and started walking him down the street. Her skin was softer than he remembered, but perhaps it was his hand which grew more rough. It soothed him to feel her touch, the innocent warmth from her fingers slowly rubbing between his, was cool water on a sunburn, ice to his molten steel.

“I'm sorry,” he said finally, after they'd walked in silence a couple of blocks. “I don't know where that came from.”

“I do,” she said without judgement, “it's called PTSD, and you don't need to apologize to me for it, James. My dad talked to me about it before I decided that I wanted to spend the Winter with you. You cry out in your sleep a lot, or... you used to. Sometimes you just sit and stare off for a while. I talk to you, but sometimes, you don't hear me. It's ok.”

He couldn't hide his confusion. “What? You talk to me and I don't hear it. When?”

“In the waiting room earlier, do you remember me telling you about my dream?”

“Of course, you said we'd found my daughter.”

“And what did I tell you after I described that dream?” Kieu-Linh asked gently.

“I—nothing. Captain Justice came for us.” Hitch thought the girl must have confused dream for being awake.

“No, James... That was almost an hour later. I talked to you about another dream I'd had, a weird one about you riding a horse through a field of fresh snow, trying to find me. I could see you, but you couldn't see me. I knew you were... away... but I told you about the dream anyway. It happens, sometimes.”

“I--” Hitch didn't know what to think. Couldn't be... I remember it clearly, she told me about the dream with my daughter, and... then Justice came... but... but... there is something there... something... missing...

It flooded in. He'd been reliving a small battle he had fought, one of the skirmishes near Turtletown. One of his men had been stitched by a machine gun and Hitch had tried to drag the man back to cover. He'd lost his grip with all the blood, struggling to get him again, the man starting to cry out in agony, screaming for help. Hitch tried again, and again, the machine gun sending hot lead zinging inches from his head. He couldn't reach him. I tried, Harris... I tried... Hitch could feel something pulling at him, trying to get his attention, pulling him away from Harris and his men and the machine guns... No... No!

“James?” Kieu-Linh's soft voice broke in. Hitch looked around, realized he was sitting in a small park under a broad oak tree. “There you are.”

“Oh my god...” he said, horrified. “Oh my god...”

“Shh... it's ok, James. I'm here.”

“I had no idea... how... how long have I been doing this?”

“You did it the first night you stayed with us. Last Spring. Dad knew what was going on after Mom told him that she and I had seen you staring off while she was talking to you. You didn't respond for a while. Dad told us it was pretty common and that we'd just need to be patient and understanding when it happened. And it happened a lot, early on when I stayed with you. You had gotten a lot better, but the last couple of weeks... it's been happening at least once or twice a day...”

“Oh my god, Linh...”

“Shh... It's alright. Here, eat something.”

“What?” he said, still trying to come out from under the weight of what was happening. “I... right. Eat something.” He bit into the last apple they had, taken from a kind woman in a park that morning who also bought them breakfast.

He was sweating, burning up. His eyes seemed to spin and grow thick. He darted glances all around, feeling uncomfortable and exposed. His flesh was on fire. More darting glances. Is that man carrying a grenade? Is that girl calling in mortar fire? The closest cover is the tree, or the low wall just beyond...

Kieu-Linh's skin sent shockwaves through his paranoia and he felt his body respond to her touch. At first, it was a focus, just a focus that lanced into his delirium with a warm, pleasant aura, then it became a salve, spreading slowly, coating his edges of confusion and fear with calmness, with love. Kieu-Linh started to hum to him, like she had that first night together. He took deep breaths and started to recover his mind. I've got to get control of myself. I'm starting to lose it... again.

He remembered times, especially his last year alone, during the late Winter, when he hallucinated old conversations, old battles, in the darkness of his bunker. He'd told himself that it was useful in order to learn, to never make the same mistakes again. But he was starting now to realize that it wasn't just that, it was the effects of the trauma of combat, of suffering and seeing others suffer, of the terrible, debilitating fear and the tremendous efforts of will it took to force away the paralysis and keep moving. Those effects may not have shown up in the field, when he kept enough control to focus and maintain an edgy-calm, but years later, with the opposite of those thrills, those horrors, in the darkness deep in the night, the silence, the isolation, he'd found himself confused, sweating profusely, restless, and vividly reliving moments he'd much rather forget.

Kieu-Linh's body moved over him and she rolled him to his back where she lay on her side, draping her arm across his shoulder, spreading her leg over his thigh. He breathed in deeply again and opened his eyes. He saw that wonderful, beautiful young woman smiling at him. He couldn't help kissing her until he had to come up for air.

But he felt doubt start to gnaw at him. “Is... is that why you came to me, Kieu-Linh... is that why you're with me? Because... you feel sorry for me?”

She narrowed her eyes. “How dare you.”

“I mean... I'm... I'm messed up. Obviously. And—“

“James Tiberius Hitchens! I will not have you mock my feelings for you by wrapping yourself in pity. I love you. I love you so much. And I won't let you turn that into something less powerful than that.” He'd told her his middle name long ago. She'd never used it until that moment.

“I... I'm so—“

“And don't you dare apologize again. Enough. I love you.”

“I know. I feel it. I always feel it.” He let out a long, ponderous breath. “I've never doubted it, Linh. Never, not even... just then... I'm... I don't understand what is happening. I thought... I never knew... But I do know... that you are the one person in this world who I can trust, who I'd take with me to guard my back in any situation, and to love me more deeply than anyone ever has. I am the luckiest man in the world to have you, Kieu-Linh.”

She eyed him with narrow eyes before a restrained smile spread wide on her face. “Don't you forget it. I never pity you. I only want you to feel good and be happy. I only ever think that, James. And that I love you so much that it hurts when you are not with me and I feel empty when you're gone away...”

“I wish I knew what to do... to get better... I had no idea,” he repeated, still trying to rationalize how he'd missed something which should have been obvious to a man used to noticing every detail, planning and calculating every moment he's awake. It made no sense, but his blood had calmed and Kieu-Linh's body on his was starting to bring him back to a sense of normalcy. She pushed her face near his ear and began to hum softly once more.

- - -

“Majooor Hitchens?”

His eyes flew open to see Captain Justice standing over him where he held Kieu-Linh against him. He'd fallen asleep somehow, and it bothered him to have done so in a public place and no watch set. “Yes?”

The woman stared at him a moment, leaning heavily on the cane. “Ooon my waaay home. Neeeed a bed?”

Hitch hesitated, but Kieu-Linh was awake and responded first. “Yes, please. That would be wonderful.” He looked at his young wife but said nothing.

“Come on, then. On this waaay.”

He stood as the woman started her unsteady walk back to the sidewalk. Kieu-Linh took his hand as they followed slowly. Her townhouse wasn't far, less than a block from where they'd napped in the park. She took a moment to open the lock, her hand shaky. Once inside, she pointed in the general direction of the hall towards the back of the house. “Spare roooom down there. Take it.”

“Thank you, Captain. We won't be a burden.”

“Nooo burden, Majooor.” Without looking at them, she walked slowly towards the kitchen. “Hungry, Majooor?”

“Yes, actually...”

“Fine. I'll make paaastaaa.”

Kieu-Linh went ahead of him and they stepped into the bedroom which was orderly and looked like it hadn't been used in quite some time. They dropped their packs and sat on the edge of the bed a moment. Kieu-Linh smiled and kissed him softly. “A bed again. I could get used to this, James.”

“Maybe we'll steal an RV when we're ready to go home. AC, cruise control, the works.”

She laughed and leaned against his shoulder. “That would be a treat.” She kissed his cheek and said kindly, “nice to hear you believing we'll go home again.”

“We made it here. We'll make it home. You've convinced me, Linh. I may be an old man... but we'll get home...” He wasn't necessarily as confident as he sounded, but he was more optimistic than he had been at some points on the trek to Denver. Plus, he knew his daughter was alive, now. That was something to hold onto. He ignored his dark concerns over what Kieu-Linh had told him happened sometimes when he got stuck in his horrific memories, and tried his best to let her love and trust bring his thoughts back to the positives.

“Shall we go see if she needs help?” Kieu-Linh asked.

“Yes, let's.”

They found her in the kitchen, setting a pot of water on a gas stove. Justice ignored them while she reached into the cabinet to pull out a box of dry spaghetti. The normalcy of the moment, of the woman's house, her comforts like gas and packaged food filling the shelves, reinforced the oddity of this place, of its stubborn refusal to acknowledge the ongoing war. In some ways, he envied those people, the ones in Denver whose lives were more like the times before The War than during it.

“What can we do to help?” Kieu-Linh asked, breaking his into his musing. “Please, we have no money, or anything to trade... but... we can work for our meal and our bed.”

Captain Justice turned slowly and eyed them with flickering lids a moment before her gaze steadied. “You aren't frooom here... are you...”

Kieu-Linh responded. “The mountains... east, around Asheville. It's... different there.”

“Behiiind enemy liiines.”

“Yes. But we're isolated and pretty remote. We have a cabin on some land in the mountains. We hunt and fish and grow our food, sometimes going into town to trade.”

“Liiike a different wooorld.”

Kieu-Linh nodded and leaned against the counter. “I love it there. We both do. It's a lot of work, but... we have everything we need... really. We only left because...” she trailed off.

“Because I wanted to find my daughter,” Hitch finished for her.

“I don't knooow where sheee ish, Majooor. Couldn't tell you if I diiid. But!” She had a momentary tick which had her shaking and rocking a few seconds before she stomped her left food and became steady again. “Coooronel Hitchens ish a fine soldier. I served with her near Boooulder, then Cooolorado Springs. She came to seeee me after I gooot hit. Fine officer. Fine officer.”

“Tell me about her,” Hitch said, almost pleading, “Please. I haven't seen her since I left for Israel over a decade ago. She was sixteen at the time...”

The water was boiling and Captain Justice dumped the box of spaghetti in slowly. “You caaan get out the bread frooom the booox there,” she said pointing, ignoring Hitch's request for a moment. “And the buuutter from the fridge. And the saaauce from over there,” she continued, pointing again. “And if you liiike, there is a booowl of salad ready in the chill drawer.”

Kieu-Linh started to collect the items, but Hitch was frozen in place, hoping to hear anything new about Willow.

Justice turned back toward him and said, “I don't know her, Majooor. All I caaan tell you is that sheee knooows her men, she leads from the frooont, and if weee had mooore like her, the Imps wouldn't laaast the Winter.” Justice twitched a moment then righted herself. “Excuse me, Majooor.”

He nodded as the woman shuffled past him and went down the hallway. He'd not heard much to help him locate his daughter, but he did feel proud to hear the Captain's description of her as an officer. Her words made him want to meet her again all the more.

Kieu-Linh drew him over and they collected the items needed for the meal. By the time Justice returned, the spaghetti was ready, and Kieu-Linh took the initiative to dump the boiling pot through the strainer in the sink.

They never had pasta in the mountains. It wasn't available packaged from the traders, and it was such a time-consuming manipulation of the raw ingredients that he had never bothered to try to make it fresh. If he had made it in the bunker, or in the cabin, there's no way the water used to cook the pasta would have been poured down the sink. It would have added flavor to the next thing cooked in it. “Ever had spaghetti?” he asked Kieu-Linh.

She shrugged, “maybe. When I was young. But not in a long time.”

“Used to be a favorite of mine. Captain Justice, this is a special treat for us.”

“My pleasure. Please, siiit. Eat.”

They devoured two full plates of pasta and sauce, along with salad topped with bottled Italian dressing. Captain Justice said nothing as she ate more slowly, and Hitch and Kieu-Linh were too busy filling their mouths to talk during the meal. The woman didn't finish a few strands of pasta and Hitch almost stopped her when she scraped the remains into a trash bag. That sort of waste was unheard of where he'd come from.

“There is aaa bath in the haaall. Use it. Towels are iiin the closet. I must sleeeep.” Justice slid from the kitchen and left them without another word.

Hitch rose slowly and walked ahead of Kieu-Linh to the bathroom. Inside, it was large despite the narrow confines of the townhouse. The tub was a spa-style, easily room for two people. Kieu-Linh smiled over his shoulder and said, “shall we?”

“I'd love to.”

They let the hot water rush over their naked bodies as if it was the most pleasant sensation they'd known in ages. Hitch rubbed Kieu-Linh's shoulders then her arms as she sat in the tub between his legs, her back to his front. “Mmm...” she purred, “this is... nice...”

He kissed her neck, sucking on her flesh a moment before his hands slid over her breasts. They'd become firm over the last year, the size of his hands, still upturned and tender, a perfect size for caressing with his fingers. She moaned slightly, and her legs rubbed along his. Hitch's cock pressed against her ass, her hand sliding back to stroke it slowly.

She shut the faucet off as they touched each other, the water sloshing lightly as they moved together, beginning to sweat in the hot bath. Hitch slid his finger down to Kieu-Linh's vagina, fingering her carefully, using his palm to rub against her clit. The girl moaned again and started to rock her hips, sloshing the water against the sides of the tub.

Kieu-Linh rose up and slid down onto Hitch's lap, his penis sliding into her snug hole in a smooth motion, her velvety channel grasping and spasming as it took him inside. He groaned against her ear as she rode him, his hands again over her breasts, squeezing them, circling her hard nipples as the sixteen-year old rocked up and down over him.

He climaxed before she did, trying to be quiet so that Justice wouldn't hear them. She used her hips to coax his load.He almost came in her vagina. Hitch pulled out at the last moment, erupting against her butt under the water, semen surging out to coat her skin a few seconds before the warm water moving by stripped it away. As he came down, he pulled her back over him, his hand down over her vulva once more, soon bringing her to a subtle, sigh-filled orgasm, his cock still throbbing, gripped tightly by Kieu-Linh's ass cheeks as she panted and her skin flushed.

They soaked as long as the water remained warm, using fragrant soap to wash away their sweat, and the thick, plush towels dried them quickly, each of them feeling very worn down and ready for sleep. They crept down to the bedroom and were soon under the covers.

Hitch stared up at the ceiling fan turning overhead. It neatly summed up the difference between this world and the one in which he had become more used to. He couldn't decide which he'd prefer. As he started to doze, he smiled to himself. All that mattered, he realized, was that Kieu-Linh was with him. Everything else was just a detail.

- - -

He woke in the darkness to stare at the red lights on the digital alarm clock which read 6:02. Kieu-Linh continued to snore lightly to his side, but he couldn't find sleep again and slipped carefully out of bed, trying not to wake her. She turned over and blinked slowly, stretching, “mmm... morning, James.”

“Morning. I'm just going to stretch my legs. Please stay and sleep if you can. It's a very comfortable bed.”

She smiled and turned onto her side. “Yes, it is,” Kieu-Linh said, closing her eyes again.

Hitch walked down the hall and found Captain Justice already awake and drinking coffee at the kitchen table, a donut half-eaten on a small plastic plate in front of her.

“Morning, Majooor.”

“Thanks for taking us in last night. That was very kind of you.”

Justice didn't respond to his thoughts, saying, “coooffee?” while pointing to the electronic brewing device against the far wall. He poured himself a cup and sipped it, the Captain telling him, “want to discuss sooomething.”

He sat quietly as she finished her donut.

“Hooow old is the girl?”

“What?” he asked, uncertain what she was up to.

“Hooow old is Kieu-Linh?”

“Sixteen.”

“Bit young fooor you.” Justice said slowly, her eyes surprisingly focused and watching his.

“Not where I've been. She's older in spirit than she looks. And,” he said, “she's my wife.”

“Wiiife, huh.” The woman made a motion which passed for a jerky shrug, then replied, “Marine, were you?”

“I was. Am. I left the Corps, unofficially, around the time we were about to be overrun around Tulsa. Fought with Patriots for a while in the mountains to the east several years, then... I'd had enough.”

The Captain sipped coffee. “I left it once, Majooor. But! I came back,” she said matter-of-factly. “Could nooot fight anymooore. But! I dooo what I caaan now.”

Hitch nodded, a grim expression on his face. “That takes guts, after being hit.”

Justice's expression was stoney and cold. “Nooot guts. Duty.”

Hitch felt like the woman was judging him, looking down on him for leaving the fight behind. “Captain, I—“

“I understaaand, Majooor. You do nooot owe me an explanation. I caaan seeee you did your duty. I took a shot tooo the head. But my duty was nooot finished.”

“It wasn't easy, deciding to go to ground and get away from the war, but... I'd lost almost all my men. I lost my wife, thought my daughter had died, too. Three men, Captain. I had three men left from Bravo with me at the end. The rest were mostly dead, or hit too bad to fight. I lost the will...”

Justice watched him a moment, her gaze more steady than he'd seen it. “I nearly diiid as well. But! Then my daughter joined up. Sheee was fifteen. Still fighting south of here. I came back and tried tooo fight. Wasn't easy to knooow I could not. So! I dooo what I caaan to help.”

Hitch asked, “how is the fight going, Captain? Honestly...”

The woman looked away. “Here, weee live our lives easily. There, where my daughter fiiights... there haaas been sooome... progress, lately. Cooolonel Hitchens is paaart of that push.”

“I just want to find Willow, er, Colonel Hitchens. To let her know I'm alive, if nothing else. I don't want to get in her way.”

“I paaassed on your message, Majooor. To the field. I do nooot know if the Cooolonel received it. But! I tried.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate that. If you hear anything—“

Justice interrupted, “I wiiill let you know. But! I cannot prooomise you she will reply. The Cooolonel is a busy officer, as I'm suuure you understand, Majooor.”

“I do,” he said quietly. “I'd just like... to see her again after so long. I'm proud of her, as any father should be. I want her to know that...”

Kieu-Linh stepped into the kitchen and sat quietly next to Hitch. Captain Justice waved her hand raggedly to a box on the counter. “Eat. I muuust report to the office now. I will return this evening. You are weeelcome to stay for now.”

“Thank you, Captain Justice,” Kieu-Linh said with sincerity, “what can we do to earn our keep?”

She looked at the girl a moment, then back at Hitch. “We neeeed fighters right nooow. But! We neeeed leaders more. Consider it, Majooor.” The woman turned slowly and hobbled to the door, quickly gone as the house grew quiet.

Hitch shook his head after a period of silence. “No,” was all he said, though he couldn't help that such thoughts had, lately, come to him unbidden and were disturbingly convincing.

Kieu-Linh didn't respond, instead rising to bring back the carton of glazed donuts which melted like butter in their mouths.

- - -

There was little to do for three days but wait. Hitch and Kieu-Linh took to walking the city in the mornings, getting out of the public eye for short naps at Justice's home in the afternoons. They usually shared a meal with the woman, but there was no word from Willow and little conversation beyond pleasantries and comments expressing thanks. The Captain refused offers to barter for her hospitality and her firm declarations left them no room to convince her. Still, they cleaned dishes, swept floors, and took care of laundry. The electric machines for washing and drying clothes were much more efficient than the methods they used in the mountains, away from modern conveniences.

A knock came after they'd arisen from a nap on the third day. Hitch peered through the pane of glass at the top of the front door to see a young man in fatigues and cover standing there, a clipboard in his hand. After opening the door, Hitch stepped out, Kieu-Linh just behind him. “Yes?”

“James Hitchens?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Hitchens, I am Corporal Harrison of the United States Marine Corps.” Hitch could tell by the design on the man's shoulder that he was representing the Free American version of the Corps, not the one still claimed by the original Chicago-based regime. “I understand you are now in residence with Captain Justice of the Denver Patriot Brigade, as is you companion.”

“We are. What's this about, Corporal?”

“Mr. Hitchens, all men and women aged fourteen to fifty-five are required to register for selection in the armed forces upon maintaining a residence in our country.”

“Corporal, we're not here permanently. We expect to be leaving soon.”

“I understand, Sir, but the law states that anyone within that age group who is residing within the country must register and fulfill service time. Your stay being temporary is not relevant.”

“That's preposterous! I don't have time to give you, Corporal. I'm not a citizen of this country, as you define it. I don't even have any identification or money or anything else which holds me here.”

“I understand, Sir,” the young man said patiently, clearly having been through this many times previously. “I do not make the law, Mr. Hitchens. I am only here to register you and your companion and to schedule you for a fitness evaluation.”

“What if we refuse?”

“Then you will be jailed until a hearing can be held. I suggest, Mr. Hitchens, that you simply fill out your information and serve your obligation. Most people your age are not sent to the front.” His glance at Kieu-Linh suggested that the contrary was true for her. “You will likely serve your time, with pay, at a headquarters office.”

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Hitch said, becoming angry. “I served my time while you were still in diapers. I spent parts of three decades in the original US Marine Corps. This is no longer my fight.”

“If you can prove that, Sir, you may be given an exemption. But I have no say in the matter. You must register or you will be detailed, both of you, until your hearing.”

Captain Justice hobbled up the steps behind the young man. “Stealing my recruits, Leatherneck?” she said in a surprisingly even tone. “Get ooon, these two are with the Patriots already.” She pulled out a set of folded papers from her shoulder bag and the young man glanced over them quickly.

“Alright, Ma'am. I see this is in order. Good day to you all, Ma'am.” He turned on his heel and climbed onto a small motorcycle parked along the road.

Justice motioned them inside and closed the door.

“What the hell is going on here, Captain? Impressment? The Marines here are not volunteers, or at least carefully selected?”

“Nooo, Majooor. That ragged bunch of pooorly led men and women ish nooot a branch worth serving in, these days.”

“Everyone must register and serve?”

“Yeees, few exceptions. Two years, theeen you are released.”

Hitch realized the reason that people were forced to serve. The War had left this place long ago, and it had left it less affected than other places. The Free Americans still fought, yes, but they did so on foreign soil. At home, the population was comfortable and fat, generally unwilling to fight what was probably seen as a political war. The only way the Free Americans could keep the military strength up was to impress civilians into mandatory service.

Hitch shook his head, amazed again at the way this place had become jaded and arrogant. There was a time when men and women by the millions had volunteered to serve and fight, even long after The War became a losing proposition. These people, at least the ones in this new nation which had tried to claim the moniker 'United States' in recent years, had become jaded and spoiled. Part of Hitch wished them ill for growing soft and affluent, but then he remembered Willow. “She was a volunteer, wasn't she... from the beginning. She doesn't have to continue serving now.”

Justice nodded weakly. “Of course, Majooor.”

“As were you.”

“Of course.”

“These people who are forced to serve... I can't imagine they are effective in the field.”

The woman responded with, “sooometimes they fight well, sooometimes, not. But! There is nooo choice if the waaar is to be fought, Majooor. The force would faaall apart without them.”

“Why keep fighting? What is there to gain?”

“Pride. Dignity. Patriotism.”

“What is any of that worth to the dead, Captain?”

Justice stared darkly at him. “I thought you, of all people, would understand, Majooor.”

He shook his head, “all I see is a fight that has been over for years, but people keep dying to defend something which isn't coming back, which most of us in other places have accepted isn't worth dying for, which can never be as it once was. This fight is pointless, now, men in Chicago and in Denver, shifting tokens on a board, ordering soldiers and Marines to their deaths, so that they can continue to sit in comfy chairs and air conditioned rooms. It makes me sick.”

Kieu-Linh had taken his hand and said softly, “what did you mean when you said we were with the Patriots, Captain Justice?”

The woman glanced at the teen, replying, “juuust that. I put through the fooorms so that others wouldn't cooome for you and enlist you befooore you could meeeet with Cooolonel Hitchens.”

“That was kind of you... do... do we have to serve, still?”

“Not fooor a while. So looong as you mooove along and are nooo longer residing here, you'll be fiiine. I bought you tiiime. You're officially my aides on paper.” There was a small smile on her face. “I have a feeew favors owed me, and I used one of theeem.”

“How did they know we were here, Captain?” Hitch asked.

“I haaad to list you. Federal laaaw. Anyone staaaying more than two nights in this country muuust be registered. They are nooot kind to those who are here illegally.”

Hitch shook his head. “This is not the United States I remember.”

Justice cocked an eye at him. “I think, Majooor, perhaps your memory on this ish faulty. Illegals were nooot welcome before The War, either. Only the borders and the naaames have changed.”

He knew she was right. “True... true...” He could think of nothing else to say, and he grew quiet as Captain Justice dismissed the conversation by heading into her bedroom and closing the door.

- - -

“Majooor.” Justice's voice had him on his feet quickly, Kieu-Linh just a second behind. They had been napping four days after the young man had attempted to register them for service. “Cooome with me.”

Hitch and Kieu-Linh followed her quickly to the front door. “What is it?”

She pulled a small folded paper from a bag hanging by the entrance. “There haaas beeeen a reply from Cooolonel Hitchens. She has requested you beee brought to her. Your ride leaves in thiiirty minutes.”

Hitch unfolded it, his eyes darting across the page, heart in his throat. It was a straightforward and to-the-point message.

Captain Justice, see that an escort for James Hitchens and his companion is accomplished via Delta redeploy on schedule – Colonel Hitchens, Commanding, Denver Patriot Brigade

There was no happy sentiment, or even an acknowledgement of their relationship. Hitch was well versed, however, in the protocols for messages sent through official channels. It was an order expected to be followed, and it had only as much information as was needed to see it done. His heart was pounding and his stomach turned over. “Let's get our packs,” he said, excitement in his voice.

He and Kieu-Linh were ready a minute later, their things minimal and still packed neatly inside the bags they'd carried since leaving weeks earlier.

Captain Justice took them through the front door, saying, “I muuust return to headquarters, Majooor. The escooort will come to you here in twenty-eight minutes. Goood luck to you both.”

“Thank you, Captain. Thank you for everything,” Hitch said, extending his hand.

Justice eyed him a minute, instead, offering a shaky salute. “Semper Fi, Major,” she said, his rank flowing clearly from her throat for the first time.

Hitch returned the salute, “Semper Fi, Captain.”

The woman nodded to Kieu-Linh, then stepped down carefully and headed back in the direction of the brigade headquarters, leaving the two of them to wait on the porch on a very warm afternoon.

James "Hitch" Hitchens, Male, 50

	- US Marine Corps and Turtletown Patriot officer, veteran of The War

	- 6'0, 180lbs, tanned beige skin, cropped brown hair

Kieu-Linh Miller, Female, 16

	- Daughter of Miller and Kim-Ly

	- 5'11, 150lbs, cinnamon skin, shoulder-length silky black hair