He caressed the smooth silver chain, letting it slip through his fingers again and again. Just like she had. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to bring himself to wear the little Star of David pendant again, not if he thought of her every time he touched it.

Most people would’ve thought that theirs was a relationship doomed from the start. In retrospect, maybe they were right. People had always pressured them to break up, even at the best of times, but before everything exploded, nothing seemed to have been able to penetrate their little bubble of happiness.

Her parents didn’t approve of him, because he wasn’t religious. They said he would corrupt her, they said that she would stray just in order to please him. She had strayed, but only enough to make them scowl behind his back every time he was in the house. He’d always pretended not to notice.

His friends always made fun of him- laughed because he wasn’t getting any action. She had a strict ‘no sex before marriage’ rule, and he respected that. Never mind the obscene jokes they made while she pretended not to hear, never mind that they had no clue what the word ‘relationship’ really meant. They were all still young, but he’d grown up faster.

They’d made compromises- not for each other, but so that they could win their friend’s partial approval, at least. She’d let him kiss her in front of his friends, despite her discomfort at showing public affection. He’d let her buy him a Star of David on a long silver chain, and he always wore it outside his clothes.

Their relationship survived his being drafted into the army, and her exemption on grounds of being religious. It survived the growing tensions between the right- and left- wing parties in Israel, the increasingly large protests housed all over the country, seemingly all of which she attended. He’d even been over to comfort her the day they announced that the disengagement was officially approved. She’d cried in his shoulder all night.

Then came the worst blow. He received word that his platoon was going to be one of the active units in the expulsion- one of the units which was in charge of dragging the people out of their homes, those who’d ignored the expulsion notices and warnings they’d been receiving. He didn’t blame them- Most of the families living in the area of the disengagement had built their homes from the ground, made their families there. The worst part was, in the few months preceding the dreaded day, there had been a slow trickle of people drifting in to those areas- a trickle that was not reflected in outgoing traffic. Those people were not going in to visit- a large amount of resistance was brewing.

He recalled the hours of long agonized phone conversations with her, coming more and more frequently as the deadline drew nearer. She would beg him to disobey orders, or run away from the army, or get himself thrown in jail- anything to keep him from the action. He would beg her not to sneak in to the areas listed for clearing, later just to get out, after she’d already gone in. Both of them knew that their pleadings fell on deaf ears. It broke his heart to have to do the job he was given, but to have her there as he did it would make it a thousand times worse.

The day came, inevitably, and he switched from praying that somehow it would just not happen to praying that at least he wouldn’t have to clear the area she was in.

Each house was a struggle, physically and emotionally. Packed with protestors, there was almost no violence with intent to harm, which made it all the more wrenching to drag them out- four soldiers per person sometimes. Most of them shouted and screamed and spat and begged, but the worst ones were the ones who were quiet, clutching their prayer books and limply letting themselves be dragged from their homes onto the armored trucks that would take them away.

He almost missed her, busy shouting orders through the chaos and trying to fight back tears. But he saw her, and for an instant it seemed as if the entire world had fallen away and all that was left was them and their mutual suffering. She had soldiers gripping her arms, pushing her forward. Their gazes locked, and then her eyes dropped to the chain around his neck. For a long moment she stared at it, and then she turned away, her face blank.

That instant was the closest he came to following her- to telling the army to go screw themselves and running after her. More than anything in the world he wanted to be with her, to hold her and to tell her that everything would be all right. Then he was jostled in the crowd, and by the time he’d looked back to where he’d seen her, she was gone.

He never saw her again.

Dirt and rock flew past as I frantically burrowed towards safety. I didn't know when the bombardment would finally reach our isolated outpost, but its arrival was inevitable. The scattered communications we’d received told us this was no invasion, no softening up of our defenses before troops landed. Wave after wave of missiles had destroyed our orbital stations before moving on to target even our smallest settlements. The Terrans must have felt there was nothing here worth the cost of occupying the planet and decided to deny its use to both sides.

They were mistaken about this world's importance, although their strategy might not have changed had they known the truth. We were certain our distance from the frontlines would shield us. The decision was made to limit our defenses, lest their presence draw attention to what was otherwise an insignificant world. That decision had cost us dearly today.

Generations ago we traded the safety of underground lairs for the bounty of the surface. Our bodies were not so fickle; my claws bled but continued to churn through the soil. Nictitating membranes dropped to protect my eyes from the shower of loose dirt. In my pampered life I’d never been past the outpost’s first sublevel. I was already far deeper than that, but still I continued digging, desperate to escape the coming annihilation above.

Finally my panic subsided and I allowed my body to collapse. Shuddering impacts transmitted through the ground told me the orbital attack had finally reached us, and I thought of the friends I had left behind. My duty was to escape, theirs to remain and continue our futile defense. It wasn’t long before I felt the explosions move westward. I knew everyone above was dead.

I cursed the fools on the Defense Council. They were so sure of themselves, so convinced of their own wisdom. They could have spread us throughout the systems, safe from any single disaster. Instead they had placed all of us on one world, protected by nothing other than its anonymity. An anonymity now proven to be no protection at all. I had barely made it out alive; there was no reason to believe any of my sisters had been so lucky.

My life had been spared, but the only future I saw was a lonely death on an empty world. Fertile females are rare among us. Our incredible fecundity would overwhelm any environment if those able to breed made up more than a fraction of the population. Yet for all our rarity we were still only half the equation. In the chaotic madness of the approaching attack the only priority had been my safety; foolishly none of us had thought to have a male accompany me. With no mate, my survival was meaningless, and I wept for the death of my people.

The vibrations began again, and I wondered why the Terrans had renewed their attack. The thrumming traveling through the soil seemed softer than before, but closer. I began to dig, and let out a hiss of fear as I felt a hand grab my tail. I turned to attack with a sudden surge of joy. I didn’t have to die alone; I could take at least one of them with me.

I awoke to a fierce headache, and the sight of a male hovering over me. He sat back and gave me a smile.

“You hit your head pretty hard; you might want to rest a bit. In the future make sure you’re not in a narrow tunnel before trying to turn so quickly.”

I gave my surroundings a brief glance. We were in a small cavern, dimly lit by luminescent flora. Rough-hewn furnishings were scattered about.

“What happened? Where am I, and who are you?”

His smile took on a tinge of sadness. “What happened was the Terrans obliterated everything on the surface, but from the way you were digging you know that. I felt your passage and followed your trail. As to where you are, you’re in Jakrim’s home, which should also answer your third question.”

I recognized him now from his infrequent visits to the outpost. Survivalist, recidivist, naturalist, anarchist, who he was depended on whom you asked. Everyone agreed his type was even more rare than mine among our people. He had given up modern civilization to live like our distant ancestors, deep underground, surviving only on what he could catch with his own hands.

The implications rushed through my mind, and I praised the Gods, for only Their intervention could explain Jakrim‘s presence here. Our enemy would have no cause to watch this planet; after today’s slaughter it would seem nothing but a lifeless husk. It was their turn to be overconfident, to leave their throats exposed. It would be decades before we would be able to leave this world, but it would be time well spent.

Jakrim took a small step back. He must have seen the hunger in my eyes. I had found my mate.

Three years. It was three years ago I got the call no one wants to get, the knock on the door. Three years ago I was given the framed triangle of a flag, the symbol of what my love died for. Killed in a war that rages still. He never even met his daughter, never even got the letter. Never knew that he was a daddy. He died never meeting his only child.

I collapsed. He had been gone for eight months already, his second tour. When the man knocked on the door and told me what had happened, I fell weeping. I woke up in the hospital. I had hit my head on the way down, hit my stomach, and hit my baby. She was born early, but thankfully not too early.

Josephine- named after her father, the man she’ll never meet, the man who’ll never hold her. Josephine. My Joseph- my love. I was sixteen when we met, sweet sixteen. He was older, a senior in high school, so dashing and mischievous. He put whipped cream in my locker. I hated him until the day I loved him, which was the day he asked me to the prom on one knee in front of his buddies. “I kid because I love,” he said. “I embarrass because it’s what I know to do. Because the way I feel confuses me so much I don’t know how to act. Go to the prom with me, I’ll wear a pink tie.” And he did, hot pink to match my dress. And he bought me a corsage, inside was a squirting flower from the joke store. I wore that too and got him good in the face when he leaned in for a kiss.

Sometimes Josie asks, “Mommy, tell me about daddy, tell me about papa. How come I have no papa?” And I tell her, “But honey you do, you have a wonderful papa. Your papa is an angel up in heaven with big white wings that he wraps around you to keep you safe and warm. His blue eyes are the heavens keeping watch over you. Your daddy is the cloud that covers the sun when we walk so you won’t get sunburned. He is the tree you sit under when we have our picnics.”

One day when we were outside, Josephine saw a feather on the sidewalk. She picked it up and examined it carefully. She ran her fingers down the side; the feather rippled under her delicate touch. Then she kissed it and held it up to me. “Mommy, daddy was here!” she said as a tear trickled down my cheek.

Tonight I show her pictures. There he was at the prom, his ruffled tuxedo still damp from the water I had squirted. There he was serious in his black tux on our wedding day, so handsome and fit. His golden locks just touched his shoulders. Oh, how his hair was soft as the rain, his voice gentle like a babbling brook. He never yelled, not once, not my Joseph. Then there were his hands. They were calloused and rough from his contracting work but always with a gentle touch. Each time he reached for me the electricity was like it was the first time. The hesitation, the accepting, the sweet caresses. Then there is daddy in uniform, he looks so proud, so strong. Nothing can hurt him, not my Joseph. Josephine squirms in my lap and begins to cry. I notice my tears, and how tight I'm holding her. I don’t want to let her go; I don’t want to let him go. They should stay with me forever.

”Mommy. . .” she squeals, “too tight!” Sobbing, I release her and put my head in my hands, saying his name over and over. She ran to her room, then ran back and placed 'daddy's feather' against my cheek. “Daddy loves you mommy,” she said. “Daddy kiss you, see?” Then she stroked my hair with her chubby little hand. I was the child. “Mommy, daddy is with me, daddy is with you. Daddy is here.”

I try to look up at her through flooded eyes, and swear I see him, his snow white wings wrapped around her. He opens them to reveal his strong chest, and Josephine wrapps her little arms around his legs. I run to his outstretched arms, Josephine in-between. We hold tight. Our first family hug.

“Always and forever my love,” he says in his babbling brook of a voice now infused with the powerful timbre of heaven. “Always and forever.”

“I’m am telling you, I know not of what you are talking!”

“Right, I’m to believe you don’t know anything? That you just happened to drive out of the building five minutes before it was blown up?”

“But I am telling the truth! Check the work records. I got off my shift ten minutes before I left!”

“It wouldn’t be wise of you to yell at me. In fact, the more you cooperate, the easier this will be.”

“How am I not cooperating? By not lying to you? I’m an American- I know my rights! I told you a week ago, I want my –

“You are no American you Al Qaeda scum. You are an enemy of the state, a terrorist, a dog. The only reason you are even alive is because you have information vital to the safety of our nation.”

“What information! I know nothing! I'm American like you –“

Akil went flying across the room as the agent hit him. He tasted the mixture of iron and salt in his mouth and felt the flow of warmth as blood trickled from his nose.

“Don’t you ever say you are anything like me,” seethed the agent. “We are nothing alike.” He stormed out of the room leaving Akil cowering in the corner coughing up blood. Eventually he found solace from the pain in a dreamless sleep.

“Are you okay?”

Akil stirred at the sound of the voice and tried to open his eyes. In his time in the ‘Freedom Center’ he had been worked over quite a bit. It was taking longer than normal to focus.

“It’s okay Akil, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Akil felt the soft touch that wiped his face. There was kindness there, or so he hoped.

“This shouldn’t be happening,” he heard the man say under his breath. Akil reached out a hand to touch him.

“Why, why are you doing this?”

“Sarge sent me around to clean your wounds,” the soldier replied. “I thought it was just a scratch or something, I can’t believe what they're doing to you. This isn’t what I signed up for.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Same reason you bomb places I guess, I’m told too.”

“But I don’t bomb anything!” Akil raged. “I am a janitor! I work nights and go to college.”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. I just want to get you cleaned up, okay? Now hold on, this might sting a little.” Akil winced as iodine was applied to his wounds. Finally, he was able to get a good look at this soldier. His blonde hair almost formed a halo in the dim light that shone from the ceiling. Despite wearing the uniform of his captor, of the country Akil so loved, he could see there was good definition to this man. He had always fallen for men in uniform. Then he looked into his eyes and saw compassion, deep blue pools of compassion.

The soldier looked at Akil. “You know, I bet before you got here you were quite the lady killer, no?”

“I am no killer,” responded Akil.

The soldier laughed, and its rich warmth brought the first smile in weeks to Akil’s face.

“I mean, quite the ladies man, chicks dig you, no?”

“I’m not quite a ladies man, but thank you. I was called attractive.”

“I’ll tell you what,” said the soldier, “I can get you a prayer rug, you can pray to your Allah.”

“I’m not Muslim,” responded Akil. “It is the religion of my mother, but one which tells me I must die for whom I love. How can I be Muslim if they say I must die? My own mother. . .why do I share this with you?”

“Maybe because you can sense I understand. So why are you here Akil?” asked the soldier as he placed a firm hand on Akil's shoulder.

“I'm here, because I am Arabic. Because I worked at a building others bombed, because I'm an easy target even if I'm an innocent one.”

“I believe you Akil. I don’t see a killer in your eyes.” Silently, the soldier cleaned off the rest of Akil’s wounds and left.

Two days later the soldier returned to Akil’s cell.

“I have good news! You are free to go, after you sign a few papers.”

“But, but how can this be?” enthused Akil, “I’ve been here so long, no one else. . .”

“I told you, I don’t see a killer in you, so I did some digging. You’re a good man Akil, I’m so sorry that this happened to you. . . but perhaps?”

“Perhaps what my soldier?” asked Akil as he moved closer, “perhaps there is a way to thank you?”

“Perhaps don’t ask,” whispered the solider, “and I won’t tell.”

May 2nd 2006,

My Dearest Sarah,
I have arrived at my destination and I’m missing you like crazy!
I can’t wait to be back in your arms
Things are quiet here so far.
Sorry for the short letter but I have to go.
With love,
Adam

May 15th 2006,

My Darling Adam,

I miss you so much!
Mother says I shouldn’t tell you like this, but come November you will be a father!
I was thinking Jacob for a boy and Madeline for a girl.
Promise you’ll come back to me! To us!!
Always yours,
Sarah

May 29th 2006

Sarah,
I told the guys the good news and we celebrated with a bottle of cheap wine.
The celebration didn’t last long, things are getting hectic, please don’t be afraid but
I won’t be able to write for a while. When things get bad I look at your picture and imagine holding Jacob or Madeline.
I promise I will come home to you and our baby, if you promise that when I come home you will marry me!
Love,
Adam

June 6th 2006

Adam,
Yes! I’ll marry you!
I had an awful dream last night that a car blew up with you in it, please stay out of cars!
I would like to be the one to tell your mom about the baby.
She’s been really lonely, I think this will bring her great joy.
Love always,
Sarah

June 21st 2006

Adam,
I just heard on the news that three camp sights have been raided and many men are missing; please let me know that you are safe! I’m so Worried about you! Please be
safe my love,
Love,
Sarah

July 11th 2006

Adam,
It’s been weeks since I’ve heard from you! I heard on the news that the missing soldiers are now presumed dead.
Please, please write, you promised you would come home to us!
Sarah

July 25th 2006,

Dear Diary,
I went over today to let my future mother-in-law know about the baby.
She’s a wonderful woman; I love her as much as my own mother.
We were sitting on the porch talking about what color the baby’s room is going to be when a car pulled up in front of her house…. Out stepped two uniformed men. The last thing I remember of that day was me and Laura screaming “No!!” in unison….

One massive explosion. One tiny bomb. One entire building gone. Hundreds of innocent people; dead. Such is war. Survivors screamed in agony, those that could, anyways. Bodies were buried under rubble, and dust rose to hide the gruesome scene, expanding to cover the small town nestled between the two opposing armies. One side fought for freedom, while the other struggled to chase the foreign intruders out of their homeland. Both forces wreaked havoc on the helpless settlement. Yet, at least help was on it’s way. The Freedom Force had sent troops to the town immediately after the bomb had been set off, and it was only a matter of time before they arrived.

Diana was a victim of the wild attack. She had been inside the building, on the second floor. Now, she was hidden beneath pounds and pounds of debris, barely alive and unconscious. Her last link to life was the slim possibility of being found.

It must have been her lucky day.

The soldiers arrived, and she was freed from her prison by a Sergeant David Tade. She was the last to be saved, for as soon as she was lifted out of the pile of rubble, members of the Preservation Military arrived, ready to shoot the surrounding civilians if the Freedom Force did not leave the area immediately. Sergeant Tade carried the young woman to camp, where her injuries were treated until she was well enough to be moved to a nearby hospital. He paid her daily visits, while she was at camp, but she was never fully there and didn‘t remember it. The drugs given to her kept her pain free and eternally drowsy.

A few months later and Diana was well enough to leave the hospital. A permanent limp, a broken arm in a sling, and scars were the only remaining signs of that fatal day. Her first stop was the Freedom Force camp. The young woman, who was about 24, felt that she needed to, somehow, repay them for saving her life. After consulting the man in charge, she was allowed to stay in the camp as a nurse. Her job would be to feed and tend to those serving in the army when they came back from battle with injuries. She would not be paid for her services, and could leave any time she pleased.

One particular soldier seem ecstatic about the arrival of the pretty girl. Sergeant Tade had found her to be beautiful, even when covered from head to do in bruises and cuts. He found any reason he could to pay visits to the hospital tent, and speak with the woman. She thought him a lonely soldier seeking attention, albeit handsome. His sharp, blue eyes were captivating, and his strength did not go unnoticed. He saw her as the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, and when, in the midst of battle, he thought death his only logical option, the image of her face; her beautiful black locks, her dark brown eyes, and her lightly tanned skin, rekindled his desire to live, if only to see her one last time.

A friendship blossomed, and David charmed his way into Diana’s heart, so that he was on her mind, always. Diana had never known love such as this. The relationship had to be kept secret, or else she would be sent away from him, and every day she could wake up to find him dead. It caused her more anxiety than glee, but their moments alone were worth it.

Such a secret could not be kept forever, however. Rumors of Diana and David’s forbidden relationship circulated around the camp. They were proven true when, after much speculation, a particularly jealous soldier managed to get a picture of the two holding tightly to each other in the middle of the night, talking. The photograph was show to the head of the camp, and actions were taken immediately. David and Diana were questioned, together and separately, and it was decided that David would be sent away to another camp, far away. Diana could remain a nurse in the camp if she wished. She declined to stay, of course, and prepared to say goodbye to her beloved David.

It was a bitter departure, as they hugged for the last time. Diana didn’t have the money to go with him, and David could not afford to pay her way. They would write to each other, they promised.

“When the war is over, I’ll come back for you, Diana.”

He wiped the tears from her eyes, and then it was time to go. The last she saw of him was his back as he boarded the train that would take him away, for Sergeant Tade died two weeks later, in a ferocious battle. Such is war.

”Aufmachen! Sofort!”
A cold voice boomed on the other side of the door. The contrast of that voice with Mark’s soft voice was infinite, although Mark’s voice was at least as authorative.
“Quickly! Get down there! And be quite!”
Sam stumbled down the ladder as fast and quiet as he could and the room turned pitch black again already before he reached the floor of the hidden basement. He could hear Mark’s muffled voice announcing that he was coming to the door.
Sam felt carefully with his feet to find his way to the other end of the basement. He had come to Mark’s house only a few days ago and he’d never been down here before. Nor had he expected to so soon. Mark’s place was known to be a safe haven for Jews running from the German soldiers.
He noticed a faint light near the far wall, and Sam stopped dead in his tracks. He listened. He could hear a rapid breathing. The sound came from the same direction as the light. Mark must’ve had someone else in his care that he hadn’t yet told Sam about. Sam slowly continued towards the light and when he came closer he could make out a silhouette crouched up against the wall. It was a young woman. She looked up at him with big, frightened eyes. Just when Sam wanted to make a comforting sign, they heard heavy footsteps right above them. He looked back at her and sat down beside her. They listened and heard the soldiers shout some German commands. Sam felt the woman cringe and crawl up against him. Instinctively he put his arm around her. He tried to hear Mark’s voice, but he couldn’t manage to filter it out from all the other noises coming from upstairs. He quietly prayed that Mark would be fine while he subconsciously pulled the woman closer to him. The noises seemed to go on forever. After a while Sam felt the woman relax in his arms. A faint smile came to his face, but it didn’t make him any less nervous. He wouldn’t relax until the noised were gone.
Sam never really fell asleep, but he must’ve dozed off a bit. He started awake. For a second he was confused, didn’t remember where he was. But he was sure it was a gun shot that woke him. The woman next to him was tensed again. She woke up from the same thing and – thinking the same thing he did – started sobbing quietly. Mark! They must’ve shot him. They were doomed! Just like the noised didn’t seem to stop earlier, now the silence seemed to linger forever. Then they heard footsteps coming straight toward the basement entrance. There was some fumbling with the camouflage to the entrance. Sam pressed a kiss on the woman’s forehead and held her tight. The entrance opened and a ray of light entered the basement and they heard Mark’s soft voice.
“Are you guys okay?”
Sam gave a sigh of relief and the woman started sobbing louder.
“It’s okay,” he whispered to her and to Sam he called that they were fine.

“So…,” Mark noted with a smile, “I see you’ve met each other.”
Sam was looking at the woman, their eyes locked. She smiled. The silence seemed to linger forever.

Beneath the smoke darkened sky Isabella’s lifeless body lay, her skin smothered in the filth of war, yet her beauty shone through it. In her hands she was clutching a photograph, of a man, a man in a uniform she was holding it close to her heart as if she knew she would never see him again.

Sergeant Henry Faith led his last remaining men through the streets. Knowing his responsibility as their leader and mentor would not allow him to even think of his love back in the city. But something ached in side of him. Something maybe instinct told him that his Isabella was gone. He tried to ignore the knot in his stomach, hoping desperately that it was wrong, but it persisted. Before he knew what he was doing Henry walked away from his men knowing it was wrong he would probably be shot for it but it didn’t stop him he walked away ignoring the calls from his men. Turning round and telling them to make their way to the boarder then radio for a lift, and that it had been an honor to serve with them. But he had to this and may his country forgive him. And those where his final words to his men, as he walked away the feelings inside him where burning more fiercely than ever.

The medics picked up Isabella’s body and gently placed it on a stretcher cover her in a sheet and loaded her on a vehicle which was already laden with the lifeless bodies of poor unfortunates who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Henry struggled over the cobbled street, hunger, thirst and fatigue where consuming him but he had to keep going the fire with in him was driving him forward, not far now he could almost smell his loves perfume, the one she wore on the night before he left. He had to keep going no matter what. Something pulled him out of his dreams of Isabel’s embraces on that night, a noise, maybe it was a car approaching. His first instinct was to hide. He leaped into the bushes as the vehicle approached. He couldn’t see what it was; the bright lights of automobile dazzled him. The same voice told him to try and stop them and ask them for help. He struggled his way from the shadows and stood in the middle of the road waving his arm. Squealing form the vehicles brakes, filled the night air, a flutter of wings from the trees as roosting birds flew away scared by the sound. Henry fell to his knees as ordered by the men who shouted to him. I’m Sergeant Henry Faith. Clicks could be heard as the guns which where poised relaxed. After explaining what had happened Henry boarded the truck. There was an aroma of rotting flesh, he had smelt it before from the trenches of war, rancid and strong the smell burnt his nostrils. Something made him forget the smell. The burning knot in his stomach the love he was searching for was close by he could almost touch her he knew it. He looked behind him and saw that the vehicle he was in was in fact a macabre cab for the dead. But he recognized one of the bodies. One which was carrying a picture of a man, a man he also recognized. Stop the truck he commanded. The driver ignored him stop the truck now that’s my wife in the back of this meat wagon stop it now! Again the vehicle screeched to a halt. Henry jumped out the cab and ran round to the back doors, pull them open and there was his love Isabella her eyes close she looked liked she where sleeping; the photograph was still tightly grasped in her hand. Henry gently lifted his wife from the pile of dead bodies, took off his coat and gently lay her down on the grass verge. I found you my love, I found you. Now you can rest my sweet Izzy. A clap thunder filled the air and rain began to fall. The drops landed on Isabella’s face, like tears they fell down her cheek. Henry sobbed I found you Izzy I found you.

The end