Months passed as they had for years. Hitch survived on his hunting and fishing and foraging skills, going once to town in July to trade meat and hides for flour, oats, cooking oil, a bundle of tea leaves, two pairs of jeans, a large tarp, and a big sack of dried peas. There had been no recent signs of Imps in the area. In fact, they hadn't been seen in Mountain City since the Winter. No one knew much about what was going on beyond the mountains, but what rumors trickled in suggested nothing much had changed.

September continued to be warm long into the month, and it was downright hot by the 22nd. Hitch bathed in the nearby creek after catching a few fat trout. He'd picked up a razor the last time he was in town, and after using scissors to cut away the bulk of hair, he shaved in the moderately-cool water for the first time since he was leading Bravo Company.

The razor burned across his flesh, but in many ways, it felt invigorating. Such a simple thing, a luxury living as he did, it brought him a sense of order and respect. Not that he was looking to impress anyone. The beard served a purpose by keeping chill wind from his face in the colder months. But the time seemed right and the trader had thrown in the razor and a couple of spare blades without asking anything in return. The man was a Marine, newly arrived in the area from the South Carolina coast. Patriot Brigades still fought there, but it was nothing new and nothing which was going to change the fate of those living inland.

Hitch felt his clean skin for the first time in years. The razor left a little stubble, but it was largely smooth. He could feel the scars from so many grenades and satchel charges and mortar fragments. Dents and lines ran in ragged patches along his cheeks and neckline, more on his nose, his ears. How he'd managed to keep his eyes intact, he'd never understand. Hitch couldn't even recall how many times searing metal had caught in his flesh, burning and stinging while he had to ignore it and try to keep his men on the line.

He rose from the water and stretched. He heard movement from somewhere north of the camp and was in a low crouch behind the bank, Beretta in his grasp, safety off. From a distance, he couldn't tell if it was human or animal. He'd never had anyone make their way to his camp, the location difficult to reach without serious effort. He heard a limb snap, then a voice called out, muffled by the distance and the breeze.

Hitch crept uphill, determined to flank the person and position himself for a kill shot should it be necessary. The creek ran down from a long rise then tucked under a boulder-strewn outcrop for another half mile. Hitch followed it up the rise, then let the person wander lower before creeping up over the bank and moving with purpose in the direction of movement.

He heard a call again, this time his name came through. It sounded like Miller. He crouched a moment, listening, then heard it again. He was sure it was Miller.

Even with that certainty, Hitch had learned not to trust what was obvious. That sort of trust in your own senses could get you killed. He moved silently from tree to tree until he could see a man slowly picking his way over the tripwires.

It was Miller, and he was not alone.

Kieu-Linh was behind him, stepping where he stepped, slowly following her father across the broken ground.

Hitch called out, “Miller!”

The man froze and turned, smiling, “Hitch!”

Kieu-Linh turned and grinned broadly, “Hitch!”

She started to run to him, but he told her to wait. Hitch knew his own defenses well, and in moments had moved down the hill and joined the girl in a tight embrace. She'd grown since he'd seen her in the Spring, taller, her face a touch more mature. She was a stunning young woman.

He let the girl go a moment, surprised by how much he felt like holding her longer. He shook Miller's hand then embraced him. “I didn't expect to see you so soon, that's a helluva hump for an old Sarge, eh?”

Miller smiled. His face was still covered by his epic beard, but his eyes looked brighter, his skin perhaps a shade more healthy. “Helluva hump, Sir. Bu', Semper Fi, goddammit.”

“Semper Fi. What brings you down here? Is Kim-Ly alright?”

“She's fine, keepin' up tha place while we're gone. Canna' stay too lon', figurin' an early Winter this year, dun wanna get caught ou' when it starts.”

“I hear you. Come on, I'll walk you through the trips to the bunker.”

Hitch led them in a winding path, avoiding most of the wires, and showing them where they should step over ones which couldn't be avoided. He took them inside the bunker where he started a small fire in the vented alcove along one side, putting on a kettle and asking, “tea?”

“Love some, thanks,” Miller replied.

Kieu-Linh's smile wouldn't go away as she regularly watched Hitch as he poured them steaming cups and offered them dried cherries.

They sat together near the fire in silence. Hitch was curious what made the man bring his daughter several days hike from their comfortable home. “So... Glad to see you two, really, but, what are you doing here?”

Miller glanced at his daughter, then back at Hitch. “We've been thinkin'... Yer all alone up 'ere. We thought maybe... ya migh' like ta come back ta our place an' stay with us... jus' fer tha Winter, if ya like. We'd love ta have ya...”

“Miller--” Hitch began.

“I know, Hitch, I know. Yer a loner. I get tha'. Bu' back in tha Spring... ya seemed ta enjoy bein' aroun' people again, even if jus' fer a night. Thought ya migh' try it out.”

Hitch didn't reply, trying to politely decline the man's offer, understanding what it would mean to be back in Miller's home, around his wife and daughter. It always ended in heartache and sadness, and Hitch had spent years trying to avoid those risks. “Thank you, Miller. Really, thank you. How about you stay a couple of days, let me think it over, alright?”

Miller nodded, satisfied, “fine, fine. We'll stay two nights as ya will 'ave us, bu' no more. Dun wanna get caugh' down 'ere when tha snows start up.”

“Where's your outhouse?” Kieu-Linh asked, starting to squirm.

Hitch pointed to the narrow passage near the back wall. “Through there, it takes you topside to it. No door outside, just from in here.”

The girl shed her jacket and pack and raced out of sight.

Miller scooted closer. “She's been'a talkin' 'bout ya since ya lef'. She's growin' up, got those itches we all get abou' tha' age...”

Hitch felt uncomfortable discussing the man's daughter's growing sexual urges. “I'm sure she does... listen... I don't want to make her... misunderstand my relationship with her.”

“Kim-Ly tol' me wha' happened months ago. Weren't yer fault.”

“I know, but I didn't like that I hurt her, even without knowing it. She's a sweetheart, she deserves someone closer to her own age, someone she can relate to...”

Miller shrugged, “show me tha' young man, an' I migh' agree. Seems mos' 'em are dead or fightin', no' many lef'. Besides...” he grew quiet, “I dun' believe in tha' sorta issue so lon' as its kind an' full of love, Hitch. I'd give anythin' ta see my girl have tha'.”

He stared at Hitch evenly, awaiting his response.

“I...” He sucked in his breath and tried again, “Maybe... maybe in time, Miller. You gotta understand... I lost my wife... my daughter... scores of my friends and my men... Last thing I need is to lose someone else... That's why I'm up here, right? I can't take losing one more person. It was hard enough accepting your kindness, and your family's. Part of me wishes we'd never have met, that I'd never have to worry about your safety, about whether someone had harmed you, or them. I can't carry that weight anymore.”

Miller nodded slowly, replied, “I know ya thin' tha', Major. Bu' I thin' ya surprised yerself this Spring... I thin' ya found ya needed tha' despite yer fears... I thin', deep down, ya know ya wanna love again... ta be loved again...”

“But... your daughter... she's... what, fourteen?”

“Fifteen, almos' sixteen. Bu' these are differen' times 'an we grew up in, Hitch, differen' times. She's fired a gun intendin' ta kill a man twice, she's hunted an' killed game in tha bush, an' she's bleedin' like a woman. Show me wha' standards other 'an 'er age make 'er any less 'an a woman.”

Hitch was at a loss for words. He realized that Kieu-Linh's body was blooming later than her age would suggest, and he had no idea what to say to her father's description of the young woman's experiences.

Miller shrugged, “no' wantin' ta put ya in a position 'ere, Hitch, jus' statin' tha facts. She's a smart girl, sharp, kind, skilled, an' even 'er father knows she's easy on tha eyes. She's always goin' on abou' ya, canna' mistake tha' fer somethin' other 'an love.”

“Puppy love, maybe.”

“Maybe, bu' it feels tha same ta 'er.”

Hitch grew silent, unable to process the options being placed before him.

“If ya decide no' ta come an' stay tha Winter, I'd like ya ta thin' abou' sumthin' else. Let Kieu-Linh stay with ya 'ere. She's asked if she could, an' Kim-Ly an' me 'ave blessed it should ya accept.”

Hitch tilted his head, eyes narrowing, “Miller, this... I... I dunno, about either idea, okay? Right now, you're beating a hammer against a shell I've taken a lot of time and energy to build. This is just me up here, understand? I'm a loner. Someone here with me makes me...”

“Less lonely?”

“I was going to say 'weaker,' or 'responsible for her.'”

“Hmm. I thin' perhaps ya mistake strength fer weakness, bu' jus' so. Kieu-Linh needs ta know more abou' tha world 'an wha' me an' 'er mom can teach 'er. I was hopin' ya migh' be tha one ta be tha' role model.”

“What role model would I be, Miller?” Hitch asked, becoming frustrated, “teach her how to mope and avoid people and draw inward and hate that I've lost all my loved ones and seen my men killed in horrible ways? I draw my weapon at the slightest sound, I constantly expect to be ambushed, I look for Imps in every tree line. I'm no role model for a little girl.”

“No' a girl so much as a youn' woman. She needs ta know sumone who ain't 'er mother an' me. I thin', too, ya need 'er sof'ness, 'er innocence, ta teach ya how ta fin' joy in life again.” Miller let out a long breath and took a big sip of tea. “I'll bother ya no more fer now on this. Just, please, thin' on it honestly an' thin' abou' wha' ya turn down if ya find ya value yer loneliness most.”

As if cued, Linh returned from the outhouse, still smiling. “Better,” she proclaimed.

Hitch stared at her, trying to measure what he felt for the girl. He wasn't really sure how to balance his feelings. He liked her, sure, as a kind person. He liked her raw emotions, her tenderness, and her toughness. He appreciated her youthful beauty, was certainly attracted to her in a sense, but she was so young, still innocent about so many things. He had a hard time deciding whether he'd view her as a potential lover or more as an adopted daughter. He knew that if he opted for either of the plans Miller had set before him, there would be difficult decisions whichever way he came to view her.

There was also the problem of his feelings towards Kim-Ly. If what he'd felt for Kieu-Linh was largely platonic, outside of the moments of lust he'd felt for her while watching the girl bathe, his thoughts about Miller's wife were more complicated. He didn't mistake the woman's passionate need for romantic love, but letting it play out, Hitch found that he couldn't help believing there was more between them than a powerful desire for intercourse. Anything he did with the woman's daughter would make that even more confusing and difficult to wade through.

For the moment, though, he tried to ignore the swirling concerns and offered them a meal of roasted venison steaks. The deer had returned in multitudes that Summer, and Hitch had bagged more than enough to keep full. While they waited, he passed out more cherries and some of the cracker-like unleavened bread he'd baked that morning. The two visitors were famished and devoured everything he gave them.

Hitch led them to the creek after dinner, showing the way through the tripwires, and left them to bathe while he returned to the bunker. He didn't want the distraction of seeing Kieu-Linh's beautiful naked flesh at that moment.

- - -

They bedded down that night near the fire. Hitch offered Kieu-Linh his worn, single mattress while he slept to one side on the floor, Miller on her other side. After they'd settled down, Miller said quietly, “need ta use tha head,” and disappeared down the narrow passage to the outhouse.

Hitch lay on his back, awake and troubled. He didn't like being tempted this way, knowing he could have the young woman nearby, that she'd willing give herself to him, maybe even that night. He didn't want to feel her warmth, to touch her tender flesh. He didn't want the sadness and worry and grief that came when such wonderful sensations would inevitably be ripped from him one day. That's just the way the world worked, he knew, and he'd already lost more than enough for any man. Desires of passion and love were too hard when they turned to mourning and heartache.

A soft sigh drew his attention, then small motions from where Kieu-Linh lay on the mattress. He turned his head slowly, could see the girl's eyes watching him, her mouth parted slightly.

She was slowly masturbating under the covers.

Hitch couldn't look away. There was a powerful longing in her eyes, and they almost drew him to her. Her expression pleaded with him to touch her, to take her then, to make her a woman in a new way. Her hips rolled to her own touch, her sighs coming between quick breaths. Kieu-Linh's youthful face tightened and she moaned lightly. He saw her body rise and fall, her arm moving the blanket on top, her knees rowing out and in with each roll.

Her body shuddered and she let out a long, pleasant moan, quiet and low in her throat, her hair twisted beneath her head. She moaned again and strained, her hips off the mattress, her arm still now. Hitch knew she was cumming, her young pussy creaming as she orgasmed. She stared into his eyes, willing him to move the three feet to where she was panting, cumming, washing with pleasure.

He didn't move, but he couldn't look away.

She relaxed, catching her breath. She withdrew her hand and rested her naked arm at her side. Hitch smelled her then, scents of her wet genitals heavy in his nose. He inhaled against his better judgement, almost reached for her fingers to taste them, to show her he wanted her. Again, he remained still.

Kieu-Linh watched him a moment, then looked sad, growing quiet and still, finally looking away, turning over and pulling the covers up to her neck.

Miller returned and settled back on her other side, and the moment, whatever it had meant for Kieu-Linh and Hitch, was then lost. He had trouble sleeping that night.

- - -

Morning brought a fresh, thin coat of wet snow. Miller was worried and said, “I canna' stay longer. Canna' chance gettin' caught away from my Kim-Ly. Hitch, 'ave ya made up yer min'? I know this is quick, bu' I beg ya ta come with us.”

Kieu-Linh was in the outhouse. She hadn't spoken to Hitch that morning, averting her eyes whenever he sought to engage her, a general scowl on her face.

“I can't go, Miller. I just can't... there's... this is too soon... too hard right now... I don't know what to think, and I... I'm not used to being indecisive. It makes me feel a bit sick, honestly, to face a choice and not know how to proceed. In the field, that got men killed.”

“This ain't tha field, Hitch. Bu' maybe it feels like a minefield, of sorts. Maybe I understand. Will ya consider takin' Kieu-Linh in this Winter? Jus' until tha Spring.”

“You need her, Miller. You said yourself, you're getting older, you cannot afford to lose her.”

“We'll manage, I promise. I'm feelin' spry again, my friend. Thanks ta sum little blue pills I acquired over tha Summer.”

“Viagra?”

“The same. Makes tha ole twig stand up straigh' 'gain. Kim-Ly is a happy woman,” he said with a big grin. “An' tha' makes me feel like I'm'a randy boy sowin' my oats. Got more dun 'ese pas' couple'a months 'an I ever did before.” He put his hand on Hitch's shoulder. “Look, I dun wanna argue. Yer decision 'ere. Ya know wha' she wants, ya know 'er mother an' me give ou' blessin'. Do wha' ya thin' is bes'.” He picked up his pack and ducked out the opening of the bunker.

Hitch said nothing. Pangs of raw jealousy had fired through him when he realized that Kim-Ly's sexual needs were being met again. It surprised him to know how much value he'd placed in being the one to take care of her, even though it had happened only twice, months before. Hitch felt guilt then, and brushed aside those unwelcome feelings.

He had to think about what to do about Kieu-Linh. He had a hard time separating the moments where he'd held her in the night, the ones which reminded him of his daughter, Willow, from the moments he's masturbated to her by the spring, or the night before where she'd extended an unspoken invitation to share her young body.

Every man loves to think he could be with someone like Kieu-Linh. The youth, the innocence, the puppy-dog desires of a girl that age could blind a man to the realities. He was decades older than her, and her idea of love was both naïve and without an understanding of the broad consequences they would face. Hell, I'll be dead before she reaches thirty-five, if not sooner. He worried about pregnancy. She was too young to go down that path, too immature to be put in that position. He had no condoms, no birth control, nothing which might prevent that from happening, and he knew it would. He assumed she was fertile, her womb ripened enough for his seed to find an egg. Miller had said she bled like a woman, proof enough that anything he did with her might cause her belly to swell and her young life to become quickly burdened with their child.

That didn't stop me from cumming in Kim-Ly. Twice. Perhaps that had been different. The woman was mature, already a mother once-over. She understood the risks and chose to take them. Perhaps she couldn't get pregnant again, perhaps that was why she only had one child, perhaps she knew her cycle well enough that she hadn't been ovulating. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Hitch found himself vacillating between letting Kieu-Linh stay and politely, but firmly, asking her not to do so. As much as he had protested, he did not, actually, look forward to another cold, harsh Winter spent alone. Winters were the worst. It was harder to get outside, more difficult to relax on the ridge line. Winters were the loneliest months he knew, and from the snow already on the ground that morning, it looked like it might be a really long one.

He still had not made a decision when Kieu-Linh returned from the outhouse. He brought his eyes to her face, and finally, she met them. Hitch was ready to tell her to leave, that he didn't want her there, that he didn't need another mouth to feed, didn't want someone else to worry about. She stopped a few feet from where he stood and stared at him evenly. Those eyes... There was both sadness and strength there, stubbornness, a willfulness that caused her to push through challenges and come out the other side stronger than before. She could have been a Marine...

“Stay... Stay with me this Winter...” The words were out before Hitch could even decide if that was what he really wanted.

Kieu-Linh stared at him with a measured expression, fierce eyes searching his. “You want this?”

He nodded. “Yes... I... I want you to stay. If that's what you want...”

She softened. “I do... I do...” The girl rushed to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. There was an awkward moment where she started to kiss his lips and he turned slightly to kiss her cheek. She let it pass without comment and hugged him tightly. Hitch still hadn't decided what manner of relationship they might explore, but he didn't want it to start out in such an intimate manner.

“A couple of rules. First, when I believe we are in danger, you follow my commands, understood?”

“Yes, sir!” She didn't mock him, but there was humor in her smile.

“Second, it can get pretty tough here in the Winter, worse than you have it in the cabin to the north. Weeks may pass where we cannot go outside. We survive that by lots of work, lots of preparation. I know you worked hard for your parents, and I'll need that here if we're going to get by. We'll need to hunt and fish and forage more than I did alone, more than you need to with your milk cows and your orchard. Promise me all the effort you can give.”

“I promise.” She waited for him to continue, but he just looked at her, staring into those dark eyes. “I have a rule of my own,” Kieu-Linh said when he didn't say more.

Hitch smiled slowly. “Name it.”

“Talk to me. All the time. Tell me about your life. I want to know about your family, about The War. I want to understand you. That's my rule.”

“Linh... that's hard for me...”

“I know. But I want to know you.” Her face softened, “I already love you, Hitch, and I want you to love me, too... please... tell me everything...”

He let out a long breath. “I promise I'll try. Some things... some things are not easily talked about...”

She leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know. And I want you to trust me enough to try to tell me anyway.”

“Okay...” Hitch was surprised to feel butterflies in his stomach. It wasn't nerves, it was a feeling even more distant to him than that.

It was excitement.

He kissed Kieu-Linh's forehead and said, “I think your father is eager to depart. Is he really going to be alright without you with him, on the trip and at home?”

Linh nodded, “I think so. He's been really energetic the last few months, almost like he's feeling young again. Mom, too.”

Hitch grinned, knowing the reason the man was feeling himself once more.

They stepped outside, and Miller's eyes went to his daughter, where he saw her without her pack over her back and an even, pleasant smile on her face. “So, it's decided, then? You'll be'a stayin' this Winter?”

Kieu-Linh nodded, looking at Hitch, “yes, I'm staying. We've come to an agreement.”

Miller broke into a broad, ragged-tooth grin. “Good. Ya behave yerself an' ya do wha' Hitch tells ya. He's a good man, he'll see ya safe ta tha Spring.” He hugged his daughter tightly a moment, then turned to Hitch. “See tha' ya accept wha' is given freely, my friend. You'll fin' happiness yet, I tell ya.” They embraced a moment.

Hitch said, “you sure you'll be okay on the hump back, Miller? We could escort you, you know. We'd get back before it gets too bad.”

Miller puffed out his chest. “I'm a Marine, Major. Semper Fi.”

Hitch smiled and shook his hand. “Semper Fi, my friend.”

Kieu-Linh stepped beside Hitch and watched as her father picked his way carefully through the trip wires and headed north and out of sight. She turned to Hitch and said with a grin, “so... what now?”

“Now, we hunt.”

- - -

Hitch had given Kieu-Linh one of his spare rifles, a Thompson/Center muzzleloader with no scope. The girl had hunted with rifles since she was old enough to walk, but it was the first time she'd tried out a muzzleloader. She was a natural with the gun in her hands.

With the snow providing a record of passing game, the day turned over quickly as they killed three deer, a quail, and a wild turkey near nightfall not far from the camp. Kieu-Linh knew how to clean her kills, and by the time it was dark, they had the meat cut up and the hides ready to lay out for drying. They feasted on venison steaks, mushrooms they'd gathered, and part of the turkey breast. The remaining venison was pushed into the cold part of the back room to age, the quail and turkey smoked.

They hadn't talked much all day. Hunting, especially when stalking game rather than waiting for it to walk past a blind or a near a tree stand, involved being quiet and deliberate. Hitch had taught her how to measure her steps so that each was as quiet as possible. She caught on quickly, and was a natural hunting partner.

It was too dark and cold to head to the creek to clean up, so they used some of the stored water to rinse their hands and faces.

Hitch realized he was at a decision point on the first night when he offered Kieu-Linh the mattress. She looked at him with soft, dark eyes, and said sweetly, “will you keep me warm? I'm cold...”

He fought himself over how easily it would be to slip under the covers and then between the girl's legs. He came from a traditional view of relationships, one which required slow, measured steps. He longed for the teen's touch, for just a few moments of tenderness, of intimacy. What had happened with Kim-Ly had been an unusual exception to his usual reserve, one brought on by his long abstinence as well as her powerful need to feel a man inside her. If he was going to become intimate with Kieu-Linh, if that was to be their relationship, he wanted it to be first a slow, loving friendship before all else.

“Okay,” he responded finally, “but I want us to talk for a while, okay? We need to understand each other... what we're doing together... what we expect... sound good?”

“Yes. I want you to talk to me...”

“Alright. Settle in.”

She looked at him a moment, then removed her jacket and boots, sliding onto the mattress in her jeans and thick flannel shirt. It was too cold to do otherwise. Hitch did the same and found the bed almost too small for both of their bodies.

Kieu-Linh faced him as they lay on their sides. Her big, dark eyes stared into his, and for a moment, Hitch almost kissed her. “This isn't something I do easily, Linh... trusting someone...” She watched him as he spoke softly. “I don't know if I'm ready to... share my life with someone. You say you love me already---”

“I do love you.”

“I know, but you don't know what that means, not really. You feel love for me, but loving someone... it's more complicated than that.”

“You mean sex? I know about sex...”

“No,” Hitch replied, “no, I mean about responsibilities, about communication, about jealousy and longing and heartbreak and grief and...” he stopped before he started thinking about Julia again. “I mean... whatever we're to be to each other... I want to go slow, okay? I don't want to rush things. I want to get to know you first, I want to... I want to... do things the right way...”

Kieu-Linh narrowed her eyes. “You didn't go slow with my mom...”

“No... but that wasn't the same... that was... uh... that was sex, just sex... your mom and your dad are together, they have each other... they love each other... what your mom and I did... was not the same as... what we might do...”

“So, you don't want me to be your lover?” There was hurt in her voice.

“I...” He tried to make it sound kind. “I don't know.” He saw her flinch and frown. “I mean... I'm confused... you're very beautiful, any man would want to be with you that way,” she started to smile. Hitch continued, “but... sex is just one part of a good, strong relationship. It's not the only thing, though it's important. If we... if we decide that's what we are to each other... If I let myself take that risk again... I want more than just a lover...”

Kieu-Linh grinned, and blinked slowly. “Alright... I think I understand... I can take it slow... just... will you at least hold me at night? I really liked that before... you made me feel loved...”

“Of course. I'd like that.”

“Okay.” She moved her face near his, hesitating to see what he might do. Hitch brought his lips to hers and gave her a soft, innocent, closed-mouth kiss which lingered just long enough to make him tingle a bit. He pulled back and smiled at her. She beamed sleepily, “this is going to be fun staying with you...”

“I think you're right.” He brought his hand to her cheek and stroked it a moment. “How about you turn over and let's get some sleep.”

She did and he wrapped himself around her. Her warmth radiated against him as they snuggled in the chill air, the fire doing just enough to keep them from being completely uncomfortable. He held her long after she fell asleep, feeling butterflies again, but also creeping fear. He knew he'd already decided which road he would go down with Kieu-Linh, and he hoped it was the right one for both of them.

- - -

The following days brought milder weather, light rain rather than snow, eventually becoming warmer again as September became October. Deer were easy pickings for a time, as were the turkeys.

Kieu-Linh began to grow on Hitch quickly. The girl's maturity, her bright-eyed eagerness to learn from him brought out his natural instincts as an officer, a leader, but also caused him to view her more and more as a partner. Her thoughts were often well-considered, curiosity mixing with a genuine interest in talking to him, and she asked questions which eased him into conversations he would have otherwise avoided or forbid. He slowly opened up about his life, describing his childhood in Montana before joining the Marine Corps. He told her, in broad terms, about his time in Afghanistan and Iraq, avoiding the more difficult accounts of seeing his men lose lives and limbs in IED explosions and ambushes.

She told him what she remembered of her life as a young girl, when she lived with her parents near Chattanooga. Her first memories were from years when the war was already beyond control. She didn't know a time of peace, still very young when Russia invaded North Korea, and she'd never really lived in what Hitch considered the former United States, her memories of childhood already soaked with fear and anguish as her parents fought with the Patriots behind enemy lines.

When Miller and his wife had moved to the remote cabin a few years back, she had, for the first time, known some measure of safety and security. They'd taught her to hunt and handle firearms, to subsist on what could be harvested locally, and to be cautious even with the Imps far enough away to provide no immediate threat to their home.

The two were on the trail of several deer on October 15th, 2032, eating lunch near a large boulder sitting halfway up a saddle in the ridge, when she described the first time she'd fired a weapon in self-defense.

“Dad was worried. He'd seen two men sneaking through the lower pasture and raced back to Mom and me, telling us to get a gun and hide in the cabin. He went back out with his rifle and disappeared through the grove. I was so scared...”

“How old were you?”

“Ten, I think. I had a shotgun, Mom had a pistol that Dad said would stop a bear if it had to. Dad was gone a long time and we got really worried. We saw the men creeping up from the clearing. Mom told me to open the window slowly and get my gun ready, that if they got close, she'd tell me when to fire.

“They ran up quickly, and Mom shouted at them to stop. They did, just a few seconds, she shouted again, said she'd shoot them. They didn't listen. When they got close to the cabin, she told me to fire, and I did and she did. One of them screamed and tore at his chest. The other one backed up and ran away. That's when Dad came running up. He chased the one man. Mom made me stay inside the house while she checked on the one we'd shot. He was dead.”

Hitch put his arm around the girl, and asked quietly, “was it your shot that killed him?”

She shook her head. “No, it was the pistol. Right through the heart. I was really glad I didn't kill him. I swore I'd never shoot at a person again... but a couple years ago, I had to anyway.”

“Tell me about it.”

Kieu-Linh was panting, the fear and excitement of that memory rushing through her. “A real raider that time. Four of them, actually. They caught Mom milking the cows down at the barn, and one of them kept a gun to her head when they walked up to the cabin. Dad had his rifle out as soon as he saw them. They were planning to rape her... but Dad didn't pause. He shot the one holding her in the head, yelled at me to get a gun. This time, I grabbed one of his rifles since I'd gotten good with them. He shot another of the men and Mom ran into the woods away from them. I was so scared for her. I just remember shooting and shooting and shooting until I was empty. Three of them were dead, and the fourth was bleeding from his thigh...”

“Awful feeling...”

“Yeah,” she said quietly, “I hated it. I knew I killed one of them this time. I saw him jerk when I hit him. I threw up once Mom was back safe. The other guy crawled off and Dad found him dead down beyond the clearing.” She was quiet a while, Hitch slowly stroking her arm and shoulder, holding her against him. “You've killed people, right?”

“Too many to count...” Hitch replied honestly.

“How did you get over it?”

“I don't know that I did.”

“So... it never goes away?” she asked sadly.

“Nothing that intense ever goes away, not even if you do it time and time again,” Hitch replied, “but you learn to cope with it, at least some of us do. Killing someone is never easy on you. But... would you have rather they took your home? Or raped your Mom? Or you? When the choice is you or them... there isn't much to think about, really.”

“So... when you killed people, they were trying to kill you?”

“Usually, or my men, or civilians, or trying to take resources which would kill them or make them suffer. Same thing, in the end. I hated it, make no mistake, Linh. I hated having to kill. But if someone threatened me today, or threatened you, I'd do it without a second thought.”

“Me too,” she said quietly. “If someone tried to hurt you... I'd kill them.”

“Good. And thank you. I hope you never need to follow through on that, but if it comes to it, I'm glad you've got my back.”

That brought a small smile from Kieu-Linh's lips as she rested against him. Then she asked, “is it always intense, in combat? I mean... what happened those two times... no one was shooting at me and I was so scared I could barely pull the trigger... what's it like when someone's shooting back?”

Hitch thought a moment, unable to really put into words that horrific, exhilarating chaos which is combat. “I can't really describe it. At first, it's terrifying. Unlike anything you can imagine. The sounds... God, Linh... the noise is indescribable. Roaring .50 cals, artillery and mortars pounding, shards of hot metal sizzling in your skin, jets and choppers roaring through the skies, tanks slinging out main rounds, your ears ringing, people screaming, some screaming orders or for more ammo or for corpsmen, others screaming in pain. Flashing explosions, people dying, blood, bits of brain and flesh and...”

He realized he was becoming worked up, tried to calm down. “It's horrible. But sometimes, it's the most thrilling thing you can experience. There's such... power... in combat. Everything matters. Everything. Every decision, every movement, every mistake. Actions that get people killed or help them survive another thirty seconds. You kill the enemy before he kills you. You push back his assault, then fire and maneuver to force him to fall back, you dig in while mortars rain in, men rush a machine gun emplacement, some of them falling, others roaring in with grenades, changing mags while bullets zing by. You see epic courage and debilitating fear side-by-side. There's no country to fight for, no family to protect, no pride at stake, there's just the guy next to you who's puking his guts up while bleeding from shrapnel wounds and refusing to stop firing his SAW so that he can keep his buddies from being overrun. Goddamn... There's nothing in the world like it.”

His voice had raised to a crescendo, echoing across the hillside. Hitch felt his breath coming quickly, his pulse racing. A small part of him longed, just once, to feel that rush again. He hated that he wanted it one more time.

Kieu-Linh had turned her head up towards him, watching as he panted in the warm midday air. She didn't speak, but she tightened her grip around his body, holding tight against him.

He felt the world shift under him and he swayed. His thoughts became thick and slow, molasses on a cold day. He felt unwell and uneasy.

“Hitch?” Kieu-Linh's voice called from farther away than he thought she'd been. “Hitch?” she repeated, gently. His eyes moved back to her, saw a small but sympathetic smile on her face. “There you are.”

Something felt odd. Hitch could have sworn Kieu-Linh was on his right side just seconds before, yet she had somehow moved all the way around him to slide against him on his left. He shook his head, caught up in the memories. He blinked away the confusion.

“I... sorry... I slip back into that time so easily. It's horrible... horrible... but... sometimes... it's... powerful... thrilling, too. I just wish... I just wish men didn't have to die to experience it... but I suppose that's what makes it so exhilarating and terrible. The ever-present risk of death. Without that, it's just a noisy fireworks show...”

She rubbed her cheek against his chest, said quietly, “will you ever go back to it? Not like The War's really over...”

He almost said 'no' automatically, that response so heavily peppering his thoughts over the years. But instead, he said, “I hope not. I don't think I could face seeing my friends, my men, killed again. That's... that's too much. I just wish they'd stop fighting and end this fucking war. There's nothing left to fight over, really.”

“What about the US? Didn't you say a few days ago that it was worth saving?”

“Maybe... I dunno... There's no United States as I knew it. That's gone forever. There isn't even a unified force, a unified democracy, any more. The Chicago seat claims the legacy, but they haven't yet instituted full elections. In Denver, they've built a new model which claims to be a democracy, but they have placed restrictions on who might vote. I can't see those two sides ever agreeing on anything long enough to fight back together. And God knows that there's no one left to push the Imps out of California, or Texas, or Florida, or any of the other states overrun and left behind. I suppose there's still hope in the Northeast, but that's about it. Even there, I'm sure the weariness from war, and a long history of looking down on the South, leaves no will left to fight for the old union. No, Linh, I think you know only a world, a homeland, very different than the one I first knew.”

“Does that make you sad?” she asked while slowly stroking his side. “It makes me sad, and I've only really heard about it.”

“Sometimes. Sometimes... But that's why I'm here, really, in these mountains. That world is lost to me, and I don't want to return. Going back to it would make me miss it too much. I might decide to take up arms again, and I know all-to-well what that would mean. I'm too old for that, now.”

“You're not old, Hitch. You just feel old, I think.”

Hitch laughed. “You got that second part right. I do feel old some days. Like I've pushed three lifetimes of experiences into most of one.”

“How old are you?”

“How old do you think I am?”

“Hmm...” Linh thought a moment. “Younger than my dad... fifty?”

“How'd you do that? I turned fifty in September.”

“That's not old. Mom said her grandfather was 101 when he died. You're not even halfway there.”

Hitch laughed again. “Well, maybe so, but...” his voice grew quiet, “maybe I'm too old for you...”

Kieu-Linh pulled back and looked at him, eyes showing hurt. “Don't say that. Don't ever say that... I don't care how old you are... I love you... I just want us to be together...”

Hitch was pulled forward emotionally in that moment, and words spilled out that he hadn't expected to say. “I love you, too, Linh... I love you, too...”

“Really?” she said as if not believing he'd finally said it aloud. “You love me?”

“Yes... I love you...”

She embraced him tightly, and they hugged together for several moments before Hitch pulled back and looked into her eyes, “and... I think it's the right time we did... this...” He brought his lips to hers and she leaned against him. His lips parted, hers followed slowly, and his tongue sought out the moist interior inside her mouth.

Kieu-Linh moaned.

Her lips were tender on his, her tongue tentative. He tilted his head slightly, and she did the same, slowly twirling their tongues together. He tasted the cherries they'd eaten moments before, felt sixteen again, the age when he'd first kissed a girl. She was inexperienced but willing, soft but not weak. He lost himself for a while.

When they finally broke apart, she pulled back only inches, her eyes searching his. Before a word was said, she pressed in again, and they kissed longer, deeper, passionate and innocent at once. He couldn't help embracing her, caressing her back as they held together, enjoying the way her arms moved over his shoulders and touched the rough skin on his neck. Each time her flesh slid past his, he felt electrified.

He finally released her and they separated a moment. “I love you, Kieu-Linh. I really do.”

“I know,” she said with a wet smile, “I can feel it.”

“I still want to go slow, ok? Let's enjoy this and not rush into what might happen next.”

“I'd like that... I guess you're really my boyfriend now? I have a boyfriend?”

“I think so.”

“Yay! Finally...”

He laughed with her and he turned her around and wrapped his arms around her for a while before they finally needed rise and pick up the deer trail once more.

- - -

That moment in the bush had been unlike any Hitch had experienced. Kieu-Linh's kiss started a fire in him that had been stamped out by his wife's death, further destroyed when he'd lost his daughter. He felt a growing warmth that came from optimism, from the chance, even a small one, that things might get better, that old, festering wounds might heal, that maybe, just maybe, he had really fallen in love again.

It was so odd. Kieu-Linh was fifteen-years old, a child really. Despite her maturity, despite her experiences with the raiders, she was almost four decades his junior, and he couldn't wrap his head around their budding relationship. The objections to it were strong, both inside him and from the culture he'd lived in. It was illegal regardless of which Empire or derivative state controlled the land he walked on. He wasn't as sure it was immoral, but he still had his doubts.

Even so, it brought him a moment of loving kindness that he'd tried to forget he'd lost long ago. Settling down with Kieu-Linh that night, he held her tight against him, sharing another kiss, butterflies pattering excitement into every gentle, wonderful touch of her skin against his. Even with clothes on, even taking it slow, he felt her energy, her curiosity, her desire to be with him, and it filled him with more pleasure than the two passionate experiences with Kim-Ly ever did.

James "Hitch" Hitchens, Male, 49-50

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

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

Kieu-Linh Miller, Female, 15

	- Daughter of Miller and Kim-Ly

	- 5'7, 135lbs, cinnamon skin, shoulder-length silky black hair

Jefferson Miller, Male, early-60s

	- US Marine Corps Sergeant, veteran of The War, Father of Kieu-Linh, husband of Kim-Ly

	- 6'2, 195lbs, tanned pale skin, white unkempt hair