“Dead.” 

Casey shivered and shifted his weight. He wrapped his arms around his knees which were bent awkwardly in front of him, letting his thoughts drift like dandelion fluff captured by a breeze. “They’re dead… Oh, Lottie,” he whispered, no longer remembering why he needed to be quiet.

He ached all over. His back. His face. His ribs.

He touched his side and winced. The skin burned. He knew without seeing it that there was a spectacular new bruise forming over the ones that already peppered his skin.

“Assholes deserved to die.”

Wincing, Casey dropped his hand to his ankle and rubbed. It hurt too. The skin felt hot and puffy under his fingertips and he wondered if he broke it.

“Doubt it,” he mumbled. If he allowed himself to think differently, he wouldn’t be able to continue. And if he did that, then how would he get back to Lottie and Greysen?

Leaning back, he rested against the cement. Cold runoff water trickled over his feet, and he shook uncontrollably from fatigue. A deep intense fear loomed, threatening to overwhelm him. What if he couldn’t make it back to them? What if he was found?

Tilting his head, he tried to see out the small hole above him. All he saw was dark sky and stars. Lots of stars.

Somewhere out there, the squad of Unit Translocation and Retention, who had been dedicated to bringing him to Fort Twenty-four, would be searching for him. Being found was unacceptable. They would finish their mission.

He couldn’t go to prison.

No way.

His wife and son needed him.

He had to go home.

“Lottie,” he breathed through teeth clenched tight to still their chattering. She said she loved him. Needed him. They’d made love.

If only I had known...

He had to get back to her.

Rubbing his aching jaw, Casey fidgeted and yelped when pain shot up his leg from his ankle, and a fresh shudder racked him from head to toe.

So weak.

Giving up, he rolled to his side, pillowing his head on one arm while the other covered his ears and eyes.

He needed rest. He was so tired.

So tired.

He didn’t even care that he now lay in the middle of the small stream of water flowing through the storm culvert, hardly noticed when his cargos became saturated in seconds. Maybe the water would cool his fevered flesh.

He tugged at his hair.

He wouldn’t let them find him.

He wouldn’t let them find them.

No.

The army couldn’t have Lottie. Never again. He wouldn’t allow it.

Aching darkness consumed him, and he submitted to its cruel embrace.

*****If you like Acquisition and Preservation, please add it to your library!