Frozen Souls

I awake to silence. The howling wind that battered against my shelter all night has given way to a morning of temporary calm. A dim light manages to find its way through the clutter and casts random patterns across the floor. My head is pounding again as I slowly rise from bed and make my way toward the nearby window. As I pull back the tattered cloth that call themselves curtains, a flash of white causes my eyes to blink rapidly as if in the midst of a seizure.  The storm left a fresh layer of snow, covering the soot filled layers before it. A bleak landscape covered in new snow is all I have left to qualify as a 'bright day'. I remember when the sun would flood through the curtains of my home and really give my pupils a blast of light.

I turn from the window and begin to make my way through the debris that has invaded my habitat. Over the past few months I found the only clear path through the dangling wires and low hanging beams. I make my way down the narrow hall that leads to the greenhouse at the rear of my shelter. Pushing open the grimy glass door, I find am standing in my spacious glass coffin.  Bleak sunlight filters through the algae encrusted roof glass and radiates a green glow on the remains of a once fertile greenhouse. Like an animal just out of hibernation I begin to scour the rows of empty hydroponic tubes for any sign of edible scraps. It seems to me a cruel joke that the only thing still thriving is something completely useless to me. Algae are not edible even in the most desperate of times, at least not this kind.  I learned the hard way after choking down a heaping handful and consequently throwing up all night long.

After an exhaustive search the only bit of food I manage to find is a moldy tomato that I must have carelessly dropped on the floor during better times. I can't afford to take chances again, throwing up is not only unpleasant but dangerously depletes my body of water. I lean my body on a nearby table.  I would be frustrated by the lack of food, if this were the first time I realized that the greenhouse was far from being able to call itself green anymore.  But I discovered my desperate situation about a week ago.  At least I think it was a week.  "How long have I been here exactly?” I think to myself. "Months?  Years? I have been alone so long that the months are starting to bleed into years."

It feels like a lifetime ago that the bombs fell and changed life forever. “For a rock! A pathetic piece of stone!" I slam my fist into the steel table as the bitter words escape my lips.  The power in my voice surprises me as it reverberates in the stillness of the room. Shock waves sent by my fists create ripples through the swampy green water that still lingers in the bottom of the hydroponic trays. This 'rock' was something that for many people held more value than life, even billions of lives. It is a mineral called malnavitite.  It can produce massive amounts of energy from very little and has made deep space travel possible.  It is also the life blood of every star base, spaceship and planet. It powered our homes, food production, businesses, and entertainment; anything that we needed to continue our way of life. 

Unfortunately this dependency created a sharp divide between those who provided the mineral and those that were forced to buy it at any cost.  When smaller malnavitite mining corporations refused to sell to larger ones, they were bought out forcefully.  When this tactic no longer worked, strange 'accidents' began to occur at certain mines that forced them to be shut down amid safety concerns.  Shortly thereafter the mines would be purchased by a company with a 'safer' record.  At first the accidents were blamed on rebellious workers and people were oblivious to the unscrupulous business practices of the larger corporations. Or maybe they chose to turn a blind eye and instead remain focused their own affairs, scared of the implications of the truth.  Without retribution the corporations became more brazen, no longer bothering to create cover stories for their private wars.  As time marched on, one large corporation swallowed the rest and emerged as the victor.  This company began conducting regular full scale invasions of the outer mining planets, taking every last bit of malnavitite.  Still there were no cries for justice, no heroes taking a stand to tyranny.  Any movement of this kind would have withered and died as quickly as the flames of justice ignited it. For the universe was being sucked dry. This last corporation had managed to wrap its withered hands around the very heart of the federation and began squeezing the life out of it. Just as an addict struggles with an unbreakable dependency, the people of the galaxy couldn't live without the mineral and the luxuries it provided.  So they continued to feed the beast. 

I remember seeing fighter ships screaming over the mountain ridge behind my home like a swarm of deadly black wasps. Soon after, bombers descended from the sky with a terrible shrieking sound.  Like great dragons, these machines let loose their payload upon the cities of my world. The bombs fell like great drops of acid raining down on a helpless garden. The bomb the corporation used contained a substance known commonly as deleo.  With an initial fiery burst, the deleo would coat everything in thick, blue goo and set to work dissolving and melting even the metal beams within the foundations of buildings.  Large sections of the disintegrating structures rained down upon the streets. Waves of the thick bomb fluid flooded the cities in a fiery rage and created havoc as the tsunami devoured everything in its path. After the invaders rid the cities of their 'pests', large freighters announced their arrival with a loud staccato booming that shook what was left of the world.  With the efficiency of monstrous mosquitoes these massive vessels sucked the malnavitite mines dry. With their bellies full, the fleet finally disappeared leaving behind them obliterated cities and great geysers of thick black pollutant spewing from the pillaged mines.

I survived the initial onslaught of bombs by fleeing to the cover of a forested canyon near my home. I watched through the leafy canopy as these monsters destroyed my own home and in an instant the life I had created there.  Once the invaders had abandoned the planet, I began roaming from city to ruined city seeking food and shelter.  The filth belching forth from the mines was blocking out the sun and it wasn't long before there began to fall a mixture of ash and snow. It became more difficult with each passing day to wrestle my food from other hopeless wanderers.  The drive to stay alive in those first weeks was not a survival instinct; it was my heart. My wife Nadia had left this planet for business just a week prior to the attack and wasn’t due back for a few more months. With each city I visited I held on to hope that somehow she had received word of the attack and had returned to search for me just as I was searching for her.  In these cities every face wore the same expression of grief showing through the layers of filth they acquired while rummaging through debris for food. None of these dirty faces concealed Nadia’s soft skin or bright blue eyes. The further I traveled, the more hostile the scavengers became. One of them was particularly ruthless and began to track me as a carnivore tracks its prey. He was a corporate security officer, judging by the uniform he wore, abandoned by the very people he fought to protect. Whenever I found food, the officer was always right there waiting to take it from me.  Like a buzzard, circling and waiting for the next carcass and growing more impatient every day. 

The eternal winter grew increasingly fierce and food became a luxury. My increasing hunger and the bitter cold forced me to find shelter anywhere I could.  Some nights my only shelter was a hole dug deep into the snow.  The officer that stalked me was trained in combat and I knew I was fighting a losing battle. More often than not I was forced to abandon the food I scavenged and go hungry for fear of being stabbed from behind.  A few times he had fired warning shots over my shoulder to scare me from my find. One particularly stormy day I stumbled upon a hydroponic farm. It looked as though it had been looted many times before. The windows of the living quarters had been smashed and the roof partially collapsed under the weight of the snow.  Curiously though, the greenhouse remained intact.  I imagined a great garden lying wild and untended behind the filthy exterior of the glass.  I pushed open the front door, which made a loud creaking noise as it swung into the blackness of the abandoned building.  My heart was beating furiously; partly due to fear and partly from excitement.  I stumbled through the darkness of the building, smashing my knees into a few large pieces of metal and roofing, before I found the door to the greenhouse illuminated at the far end of the room.  I made my way across the floor and gingerly opened the door. I slowly slid my body through the opening.  Upon initial inspection I was disheartened to find that nothing more than a handful of leafy green plants had been spared since they offered no immediate nourishment. This wasn’t the leafy jungle I was hoping to find.  My heart sank to my stomach. If only I could have digested it and served two purposes; stop the pain of both disappointment and hunger.  I stalled in the room for only a moment before continuing my search of the large farm complex for food. I was lucky to find a few intact bottles of fruit and vegetables lying among the rubble of a dark storage room. This small victory was unfortunately short lived. 

My stalker had noticed the value of the farm just as I did both for shelter and possible supplies. As I was exploring a room near the rear of building, I was suddenly caught in a hail of bullets. I instinctively fell to the ground and crawled to the far corner of the room.  During one of my previous scavenges I had found a very old gun with ammo in an abandoned shop.  I began returning a few fire shots with my primitive gun, careful to save the ammo for moments when I could see some part of my assailant. The gunfight lasted days as we exchanged fire through the decaying holes in the walls of the farm.  I would move quickly from room to room, trying to gain an advantageous position.  I watched disheartened as a few bullets pierced jars of fruit and spilled their precious nectar onto the dirty floor. The officer would only afford me a few hours of peace each night and I spent most of that time using the scraps of wood, sheet metal or plastic I found in the dwelling patching up gaping holes.

During a particularly heavy assault by the officer and his seemingly endless supply of ammo, a single bullet burst through a small hole in the concrete wall. It caught me square in the shoulder and threw me hard to the ground.  The pain was intense and I could feel the bullet worming its way deeper into the sinew of my shoulder muscle with every movement I made. In a rage I took my gun and began firing furiously out of any hole in the wall he could see, screaming in pain so loud it drowned out the loud pops coming from my gun.  Soon I heard the distinctive click signifying I was out of bullets. Luckily by this time the fire from my enemy had also ceased. After waiting a fair amount of time for the silence to continue, I scooted myself across the floor using only the force of my legs and lay my head against the wall I had been firing through.  I peered through a small bullet hole, searching the grounds as quickly as possible with my one eye. There was a trail of disturbed snow leading away from the spot where a few times during the fight I had caught a glimpse of my assailant.  I visually followed the trail until I saw a row of trees that stood about 100 feet from my shelter.  There below the branches of a dead oak tree lay the officer.    This sight which in normal times would have horrified me instead caused a wave of relief. The battle and the war, was over.  After being hunted relentlessly for months, I was finally free.  The days passed and I lay for much of that time in excruciating pain nursing the tear in my shoulder.  After I had gained some strength, I went in search of the officer or some sign of how badly I had wounded him.  I came upon the area beneath the oak tree where I had seen him lying. I didn’t find a body and to my relief I felt slightly happy that he had not been killed. I was almost relieved because there was still a part of me that remained civilized and human.  I expected to at least see a sign of his injuries or a heavy trail leading away from this point. Unfortunately any sign would have been covered by the snow that fell while I was recovering.  Suddenly, I noticed faint footprints leading away from this spot at a steady pace. There was only a trace of fresh snow covering the tracks which meant the intruder had been here within a day. He was probably hiding somewhere right now, just waiting for his opportunity to strike.  I fell to my knees and stared at the ground where the officer’s body should have been. The anxiety and fear that had washed away just a few days ago was returning.

With no other option I returned to the daily monotony that awaited me in the abandoned farm.  I spent many months here, rehabilitating my shoulder and tending to the small fruit garden that I had been able to nurse back to a somewhat healthier state.  I even began to forget about the danger which may have been lurking just outside my shelter.  I began to feel that this farm could be come my permanent home.  I might be able to live out the rest of my days in relative comfort.  As the apocalyptic weather intensified, however, cruel reality exposed this as a mere hallucination.  The plants I had succeeded in saving were further starved of sunlight and they too began to die along with the rest of the planet. Soon there were nothing left but dead leaves and rotting branches.

My time here has run out but there is no where else for me to go. Even if there were, I am running low on faith and will to go on.  I pull a picture of Nadia from my tattered coat, the last memento of her I possess.  Even my memories of her seem to be fading, wiped clean by the need to reserve brain power for survival. I run my finger down her face. For so long I had hopes of finding her here. Running to her open arms and feeling her incredible warmth contrast the bitter cold of this world. Now I pray with all my heart that she will stay away from this place.  When the corporation came they left their evil behind and it consumes everything that still lives.  There is no compassion or caring left in the souls here; only the need to survive at all costs.

I slide Nadia's picture back into my pocket and drag myself over to a table I uncovered beneath the debris.  I grasp a small black device that sits on the table and carefully hold down the power button.  I found this device in the snow a few days ago while I was searching the grounds for more of the officer’s footprints.  I noticed some very small bird tracks leading to a pine tree buried in snow.  Hoping to find a fresh meal of eggs or bird meat, I pulled up a sodden, snow covered branch and revealed a deep pit that had been sheltered from the relentless snowfall.  Any bird that had made its home here was long dead and gone, but near the bottom of the pit, sticking partially out of the snow, was a black metallic object.  The joy I felt when I first pressed the power button and saw the screen light up was worth ten meals.  This little object was an elemental trace monitor.  It could find traces of minerals like malnavitite for hundreds of miles.  This small object could alert me of any nearby rescue ships which give of a malnavitite signature as they use it for fuel. In my wildest fantasies, Nadia's ship would appear as a blip on the screen.  My searches with the device in the last few days showed nothing, and the battery was getting low.  I felt a glimmer of hope each time I booted up the device. That maybe that day would be the day it made a discovery that reversed my fortunes. That feeling quickly faded as the days wore on and today the whole process was just another one of my routines. That special feeling was completely absent now.

         I set the device on the table and let it do its work scanning.  I only have at most two days left before the battery dies.  "Maybe I should ration it a little, only use it if I hear something or have reason to believe it will pick something up," I think. But this thought is quickly replaced with another one.  "My time will run out faster than the battery."

I had never been a social person in life.  I preferred to listen to the world rather than be a party to its sounds.  But in moments like this I yearned for conversation. Nadia had once said that speaking to me was like speaking to a stuffed teddy bear. "I feel like I can tell you anything in the world and you won't judge me. But you never talk back. You just stare at me with your permanent smile and those sparkling eyes.”

I remember staring at her golden hair and that beautiful face and thinking that I didn't deserve someone so amazing. "Then you must be terrified that I have come to life as a zombie bear!" I said and pulled her in close with a constricting hug and planted a kiss on her soft velvet lips. 

She ran her fingers through my thinning brown hair and then grabbed my head with both hands, looked me in straight in the eyes and said, "One day I will find out all of the things that make you who you are.  I will get you to crack and it will all come spilling out and I won't be able to shut you up!"

I stole one more kiss and replied, "You won't find out more than you already know."

These memories are painful for me to replay.  I lived for Nadia's constant company and her continuous chatter.  I loved to watch her enthusiasm for the stories she told.  The way her hands would move in graceful gestures as she expressed the emotion in the stories.

A loud beeping jolts me from my memories. A three dimensional holographic map is now hovering above the monitor. "This is something new!" I am talking to myself again but it doesn't matter.  In the center of the image is a glowing green 'X'. I am suddenly more alert than I have been in months. Flashing under the image of the map are three words:

TRACE: Armaritum signature

I instantly recognized the second word and it is an answer to my prayers. Armaritum is a unique element that when used in the proper machine can imitate the properties of many known substances, including food. These machines consume a synthetic protein liquid and mix with armaritum in a chemical reaction to instantly create basic meals. If you type in a request for a turkey meal, something resembling a turkey would form in the machine’s container. It never tasted as good as natural food but right now I am a day or two away from serious malnutrition.          The projection begins to flicker and I realize that I only have a few moments to note down the location.  I guess the battery was going to give out sooner than I thought.  I recognize the bowl shaped valley in the projection and the body of water next to it. The replicator looks to be in a port complex down by an ocean bay that cut its way into this valley. If I left now, I could reach the shore by sundown.

I quickly rummage through the piles of things I have collected in my time here.  In a large pile next to my sleeping area I find my cold suit. I found this treasure among the rubble of a former military base. It has allowed me to travel farther than would have been possible otherwise in the subzero temperatures. The suit itself is actually an old spacesuit stripped of its electronic parts. Since it was designed for the extreme temperatures of space, it was perfect for keeping out the cold. The downside was that it wasn't made for walking in. The material was a heavy temperature resistant fabric and metal hybrid that piles an extra eighty pounds onto my frail, emaciated body. A musty smell greets my nose as I pull the suit up to my chest. I haven’t found a need to go outside for extended periods of time for quite a while. I half expected that this run-down farm would be my final resting place.

I grab my helmet from the same pile near my makeshift bed and lower it over my unkempt hair. The room immediately goes dark and I panic for a brief moment before I realize the visor is polarized.  I flip the manual switch and I can see again. I am greeted swiftly by a horrible smell.  I can now tell how long it has been since I had some sort of bath.  With the stench trapped in my helmet it is an unbearable few moments until I can get my mind accustomed to the odor.  I then drag my bulky frame to the front of the farm and find my boots still standing at attention near the door.  They look as if they are waiting patiently for me to finally uproot from this place. In one of the smaller mining towns I had found some scrap metal disks and lashed them to the bottom of my boots. The metal was surprisingly light and yet extremely sturdy. They made it much easier to stay afloat in the sea of snow that covered the planet.

I pull on the bar handle of the heavy metal door.  When I first arrived here it took no effort for me open this door.  Now it takes almost every last ounce of strength in me to pull it to one side. A burst of snow comes swirling into the room. Another storm has picked up where the last left off. I step out to begin my trek when a thought occurs to me. The monitor would only pick up on armaritum if it had actually been part of a chemical reaction.  This means someone must have used the machine today.  I assume it is possible that falling debris could crush the machine and expel its chemical components causing a reaction. But I still don't know what happened to the officer and I am not in a position to assume anything. If there is a food machine, someone has used it and they need it as bad as I do. I run back into the station and grab the gun I found last week in a dark corner of the farm and make my way back outside.

Snow is already filling the hole I have dug at the front door. Everywhere the snow is already four feet deep and in time it will overtake even the tallest trees. I climb out of the hole, polarize my helmet shield, and stand for a moment to survey the area.  The valley drops down before me and far in the distance I can see the remains of a once proud city by the bay. To the south of the city are the remains of giant cranes of the port. With my target sighted, I begin trudging through the snow toward my fate.

It doesn't take long before physical strength has been sapped from my body. Before the end of this world, I was a strong man built for endurance. As a mine worker I spent my days lifting heavy machinery parts and grew muscles that stretched my skin thin across bulging strength. Now my body was a timid shadow of its former self. I have wasted away and all I am left with is a skeletal frame that outwardly displays my battle with hunger. I fall, driving my knees into the snow. I am stuck in the middle of a vast white desert without the strength to turn back home and losing the will to continue forward.

"What good would the armaritum machine do for me anyway?" I wonder.  "Just prolong the inevitable?"

The wind whistles past my ears as it races across the desolate valley. I lie still in the snow and let the flakes cover my body in a thin layer of white. I contemplate giving in to the pleadings of my muscles and just lay down to sleep. But there is a primal urge inside me that never seems to die, and dying isn’t something my heart will allow me to do. My arms and legs come to life and began to claw their way out of the snow. Soon I am back on my feet and moving again.

The hours and minutes meld together as the landmark steel towers on the horizon grow larger and larger until at last I find myself on a small ridge overlooking the bay. Directly below me are the decaying buildings of the port. A large warehouse riddled with holes stretches from the base of the bluff toward the sea. I am just a few feet from salvation.

I make a motion to start my descent down the bluff when out of the corner of my visor I see movement among the other buildings of the complex. I immediately drop to my stomach and cover the majority of my body with snow to conceal my position.  My heart is racing and my mind is running strictly on instinct now. I stare at the area where I saw motion. I catch my breath as a figure emerges from the rear of the warehouse dressed in a black security officer’s uniform. An intense despair overtakes me as I realize my enemy has returned. The macabre fairytale my mind had fabricated about the security officers death was a lie.

The officer pauses and seems to probe for an enemy lurking in the shadows. Apparently he is not aware I am here for when his scan is complete, the officer begins to walk across the complex toward the ridge that I am currently lying on. I notice that the he is leaning forward and seems to struggle with each step. Soon a large metal object moves in to view trailing behind him. There is an armaritum food machine here and my enemy is pulling away the last chance I have at survival.

         My mind began to race, calculating the different scenarios for escaping, stealing the machine, and preferably doing both. As the officer begins to ascend the bluff, I feel my options dwindling fast. Would I have a chance to take out the officer without damaging the machine? Would I be able to move from this position to a better one without the enemy noticing me and killing me on the spot? This man is a trained killer and it will only take one shot in the open for him to take me out.

The animal instinct rises within me again. "I am through being hunted, I have no other options." I convince myself.  For the first time I feel a little more like the hunter rather than the hunted.  I have come to one conclusion; I have to kill or be killed.

I wrestle with my bulky hands and pull my gun out of its holster. The gun takes some time to load and I feel the nerves begin to take over as my hands start shaking. When the gun is finally ready, I quickly stand up and fire blindly hoping to warn my enemy away before he finally notices me.  Maybe I can get him to abandon his prize and I can use my last reserves of strength to rush the machine to the farm.

There is no sound, no sign of the life. The officer has disappeared, leaving his cargo behind. Could it be that this last ditch plan worked and there won't have to be bloodshed today?  I scan the area for any signs of movement and slowly begin to make my way toward the armaritum machine. I am able to reach out and touch its cold, steel body. Suddenly there is a loud crack and I feel my previously wounded shoulder whip back. Instinctively I look down for blood and see that the heavy fabric of my suit has been torn and thick blue ooze is left sticking to the tattered edges. Another crack echoes through the air and I feel the vibrations as another bullet passes by my helmet. These aren’t the bullets of a simple gun like mine, this is a deleo cannon. This gun carries the same malicious material that was contained in the bombs that destroyed this planet. When these bullets come in contact with my coat, it immediately burns and sizzles. “This guy really has it out for me” I mutter.  Not only is he using a very deadly weapon but he is also aiming it at the same shoulder he ruined in our last encounter. 

I immediately turn and run to the only cover I can see within running distance. I dive into the protection of an evergreen tree, its branches thick and heavy with snow. My momentum sabotages me and I find myself waist deep in snow, fighting furiously to free myself from this vulnerable position. Shells whiz by my head from seemingly all directions. This officer is extremely quick, but thankfully not a very good shot with the deleo cannon.

Finally pulling myself free of the snow trap, I wait for a break in the enemy’s fire.  When the opportunity comes, I peek around the tree and see that the officer has positioned himself behind the replicator. “Very clever”, I whisper. The officer’s strategic position has assured him that I won't fire my gun and risk damaging what we are now bitterly fighting for. I duck back behind the cover of the tree. The stream of cannon fire begins again with four quick shots. The second shot slams into the trunk of the tree a few feet above me. Blue ooze begins to drip down the trunk. Almost instantly the tree begins to dissolve and lose its form. Large branches of the dissolving tree are dropping dangerously close to my suit and helmet. I have to act quickly; soon I will be completely exposed.

I realize that the only way I have even a small chance of surviving this fight is to charge my enemy head-on. I look around for anything that might offer a few moments protection from the hail of bullets.  I glance down at my feet and see the disks still strapped to my boots.  They might provide protection but a running charge will be nearly impossible without the stability the disks provide in the snow. Gaping holes are forming in my cover as the remaining branches of the tree melt and fall away.  My impossible solution has to be good enough. I quickly rip the disks from my feet, take one against each forearm and come out from behind the tree with my head and chest protected.

Time slows to a near halt. In this moment I know that I will either die now or live to die a short time later. But a feeling of hope bubbles to the surface and the faith and determination I have carried with me all this time burns bright again, like a flash in a pan.  I scream as adrenaline pushes my body forward, hiding behind the feeble shields. Instantly I feel bullets ricochet with increasing force as I press forward. I am surrounded by a furious spray of snow. The consistent crack of the officer's cannon seems to keep time with my every step. The metal disks are weakening with each hit and the snow is building a thick layer on the visor of my helmet.  A shell hits the top of my head and for a moment a black cloud takes over my mind.

Then I see the base of the armaritum machine materialize within my narrow view of the ground. In one fluid motion I drop one of the shields and draw my gun. I make a last lunge forward and begin to lower my remaining shield.  I raise my gun and in the chaos of the moment, through my blurred vision, I make out the glint of something familiar behind the helmet the officer wears.  My hand hesitates for a moment and in that moment I am interrupted by the deafening blast of the deleo cannon being fired at close range. The shell hits my shield with such force that I hear the bone in my right arm snap. My gun goes off involuntarily as I am knocked off my feet and thrust backward. Almost immediately my mind falls into total darkness.

When I finally come to, all I see is the dim white light of the sun filtering through heavy cloud cover. I am on my back, in a shallow grave of snow and ice. I sit and just listen to myself breath in a hypnotic rhythm.  I feel as though I could lay here forever. Every muscle has ceased to ache and my mind feels calm, free of fear and pain. The force must have knocked my helmet off. Through the corner of my eyes I can see steam swirling in a thin veil around me before it rises up toward the sky. For a moment I imagine myself being carried into the heavens on these wispy tendrils of air.

Then I remember the scene that played out before I lost consciousness.  Those eyes, they had a familiar kindness.  Feeling quickly returns to me and an intense pain shoots from my arm and spreads to my whole body. I let out a loud scream and pull my arm into a protected position near my chest. The wave of misery passes temporarily and I quickly look around. The machine is in the same position. Just beyond I see the outline of a body sprawled out in the snow. I pull myself up and stumble as fast as I can manage toward it.

         The stranger is leaking a red material out of one side and the redness of it is staining the snow an ugly color.  With my free arm, I grasp the edge of the stranger’s helmet and carefully slide it off. Curly golden locks pour out onto the snow. The face that is revealed has those warm eyes I have been yearning so long to see, the soft features I tried to find hidden in the dirty faces of strangers. Nadia had been so close to me all this time. I rip off my own helmet and pull her cold cheeks close to mine. As I hold her to my chest, I wish with every fiber of my being that she were someplace else. Someplace far away from this cursed planet. I look to the heavens and scream again, only this time my cries are filled with a different kind of pain. I have taken Nadia’s heart and now I wish someone would take mine.

In this horrible moment, my life changes.  Suddenly there is a gasp, barely distinguishable from the wind.  I look down at the face of my wife and see the flickers of life.

"Nadia! Can you hear me?! Nadia, please come back to me!  I'd give anything to hear your voice again!" I plead and feel my body break with heavy sobbing.  I haven’t had the energy to cry for a long time but nothing I can do will stop it now.  I am left alone with only the sound of my crying. 

"I knew you would wait for me", Nadia manages to eek out in a whisper. 

  "Oh Nadia...”  I hold her tighter and squeeze her feebly.  “I can't be without you anymore.  Your voice will haunt me for the few short days I might manage to live without you."

She looks up at me with a puzzled expression.  Then, with a surprising amount of strength in her voice she says, "I'm not going anywhere without you.  Now that I found you it would take death to keep me away from you again."

I return a puzzled look to her and motion to the blood running from her side.  "Nadia, you're hurt."  My voice is cracking again.

She looks down and runs her finger through the stream of red.  She puts the finger in her mouth.  I look at her, mortified.  Is the pain causing her to go mad?

"Strawberry!  I found some preserves in a cellar near a farm a little ways from here". She says.

"Why were you wearing that awful suit Nadia?!  I fired at you!  I tried to kill you!"

"I ran out of supplies shortly after I crash landed a little ways up north and needed some protection from the cold.  I found this suit on a man lying in the snow. I took what I could from him and ran.  I didn't want to risk meeting person that killed him." she said.

A terrible mix of emotions ran through me.  Guilt for killing the officer, despair at hearing my rescue ship had crashed and then lastly, a feeling of peace.  I was holding in my arms the one thing in this world that kept me going.  Those other things didn’t matter anymore.  The evil being that was born out of the desperate need to survive died today.  No matter what happens to us now, I will have her by my side.  Nadia had already begun rambling off a string of questions to me. "Are you hurt? What was it like when they attacked?  How did you survive? What..."

I pulled her head close and kissed her. I kissed her like it was the first time and the last time I would see her.