The wind howled along the top of the military base while military vehicles roared along the dirt roads below and soldiers raced from building to building. George stood atop the central tower of the base. Like the keep to an ancient castle it towered over the walls and over the world, whose subtle curve could be seen on the horizon promising something more.

From here the trees looked like grass swaying under the midday sun. George gripped the rail with sweaty fingers and turned to face Monica who stood beside a nearby helicopter fidgeting. In that helicopter they could glide over the world, beyond that horizon. They could see what lay on the other side. They could leave behind monsters and rebellions and fighting and fear...if only for a little while. They could know the peace of an empty sky. George was ready to be rid of this place. Let someone else worry about the end of the world...he'd given it his all. Resolved, he wiped his hands on his pants and turned to join Monica at the helicopter.

*

The soldiers dragged George along an endless maze of hallways until he was certain that they were in fact just leading him in circles. When he slowed or clutched his still injured side they hit him. But they never spoke. When he looked into their eyes he saw nothing but an empty black. Not the black of space, but a black that George imagined must lie at the center of black holes. A black from which there lay no escape. Every muscle in his body ached, but they marched on.up stairs, down stairs, through empty rooms, they marched.

"Halt!"

There was no mistaking Monica's voice as it cracked out into the hallway.

"Commander..." The men hit George in the back of the legs, forcing him to his knees. "We're under orders to take this prisoner down to interrogation."

"Did I ask what your orders were Sergeant?"

"No Sir."

"George, come over here."

"Sir, this is highly irregular." The soldier squeezed George's arm.

"Are you questioning orders?"

With a sigh the soldier shrugged and let go of George's arm. George sidled towards Monica, but the other guard narrowed his eyes.

"Hold it." He drew his gun and pointed it at George who froze. He could feel the weight of the gun pointed at his head and found that he didn't much like it. "Our orders came directly from General Hammond not half an hour ago and you--Commander--are supposed to be in medical receiving treatment. Why would he have you come all the way over just because he changed his mind? I'm calling this in."

He reached down to his waist and grabbed a radio there.

"This is gross insubordination Sergeant Williams. I'll be the first in line at your court martial ordered reprogramming.."

"We'll see..."

Monica rolled her eyes, reached forward and tossed George behind her. He landed with a thud and came up just in time to see her grab the gun wielding arm of Sergeant Williams and twist. A sharp crack echoed through the hall, but Williams didn't scream. His face didn't even register pain. Instead his other arm came around to grab at Monica's neck. Meanwhile his partner was quickly reaching for the gun at his waist. Monica grabbed the hand at her throat. She now held both of Williams' arms and as smoothly as if they were dancing turned him so that he was between her and his partner. Too late the other guard realized his mistake, but the flash of light at the nozzle of his gun was already fading and a large black hole sizzled in Williams' back.

Monica threw Williams' now inert body into the other man and together the two fell to the ground. Without pausing she dropped to her knees, grabbed his head and twisted it until it snapped. A thin line of blood drizzled from his mouth and he went limp. Williams, still alive despite the hole in his back, reached for his radio again. Monica kicked it away and crushed his hand under her foot. Then she took his own gun from the floor and shot him in the face. He stopped moving.

Monica, her face empty as stone, grabbed George by the arm and started to drag him opposite of the way the guards had been going.

"What...what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I thought you were on their side..."

"I was, now I'm on yours." She sighed. "Look George, as usual, I don't have time to coddle you. In fact, I have even less time then usual. So why don't you shut up and let me save you? I can answer all your questions when we're not running for our lives."

"Yeah, like that'll ever happen."

Monica led George higher and higher, until he swore in his head that if he ever saw another stair case he'd shoot himself. Or maybe just not go up the stairs. Either option seemed reasonable. So it was that when at last they burst onto the roof, the wind howling, George had to stop and rest at the railing. And so it was that this episode started. A stillness came over him like he'd never known before. A peace that settled into his soul. He was free. Monica jumped up into the helicopter and held her hand out. He took it and then the sun came out from behind the clouds and a ray of light fell from the sky and landed on her face.

Her blue eyes had always seemed cold and empty to him, but now in the sunlight George saw how wrong he'd been. They glowed down at him. Her hair whipped around her head with the wind, becoming a sort of glowing golden haze. A halo that framed her face. Her frown faded into a bemused smile that was so far from the empty expression she'd worn as she killed those men. Her hand felt warm and steady around his.

For the first time George looked at Monica and did not feel a fear gnawing at the back of his heart. He felt warm despite the wind and even as the sun faded. He couldn't flee over the horizon. He couldn't leave saving the world to someone else. It was true there were horrible things in this world. Things he'd rather not have experienced, and one of them was holding his hand. But it was also true that there was beauty, and that also was holding his hand.

"I can't leave."

"What are you? An idiot?" She pulled at him. "Do you know what they'll do to us?"

"You should go Monica. I don't--I don't understand why you came for me, but...but it means...it means the world to me. Just know that."

George's hand slipped from hers and he walked across the roof towards the door.

"George! Stop! Stop right there!"

"No! No Monica! There are things...people...in this world. People worth fighting for. I can't just turn my back on everything I've seen."

"What things? Monsters! Death! People like me, George."

"Yes! All of that, but there are also forests and sunlight and people like...people like Amanda."

He opened the door, stared into the darkness, and prepared to go down into it alone.

"Idiot!" Monica grabbed his shoulder. "You want to play the hero? Save the world all by yourself? This isn't some fairy tale and you aren't the knight and there isn't a happy ending waiting down there. You really think I rescued you just to watch you march alone to your death?"

"I...I don't know why you rescued me."

Monica looked down and then up at him with her eyes made of the steal of a winter sky.

"I'm not going to leave you here alone George."

"And I'm not going to get on that helicopter with you."

Monica smiled then, a sharp smile that promised pain and misery to anyone on the wrong side of it.

"Tell me where you need to go and I'll lead the way."

"You--you'd come with me?"

"I gave up my career, my whole life, to rescue you. Do you think that I'd just leave you to die?"

"You know I don't have a plan. If you come with me, you'll die..."

Monica smiled then and looked up towards the sun then she looked back down at George.

"What are you waiting for? We don't have all day."

Together they disappeared into the darkness of the building. The door slammed shut behind them. The howling wind swept up the metallic boom and carried it into the air and out over the curve of the world into an empty sky.