Shep had led Nina and a handful of others from Philadelphia that first summer of the invasion when the chain of command broke and splintered, when a nation deteriorated into individuals running for their lives.
When they happened upon an abandoned police helicopter north of the city, Nina’s skills as an Army National Guard pilot allowed them to take to the air. During their flight north, the chopper experienced mechanical problems forcing an emergency landing in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania.
The story went on from there but it ended with Shep and Nina joining Trevor’s band of survivors.
In the years since, the two saw less of each other due to their diverging roles in the military campaign.
Technically, the Dark Wolves served as part of Shepherd’s “Southern Command,” but their unit often moved fast with little break between tasks.
Those tasks included reconnaissance, assassinations, sabotage, harassing enemy supply convoys, taking out particularly nasty predatory hostiles, securing key river crossings, and more.
Overhead, the sound of a military jet cut through the otherwise peaceful morning.
Shep glanced skyward and told her, “We’ve been running sorties since dawn. Hitting em’ with everything we got.”
She asked, “But not ground forces? I heard 2 ^ nd Mech hasn’t moved an inch.”
“Supplies are stretched to the limit. We got some units down to less than a dozen bullets per man and gas tanks are about dry. It’s going to take some time before we can get after them.”
“Same old story,” she said. “We’ve got the manpower but no supplies. I thought you brought that up at the last big meeting?”
Shepherd chuckled. “Yeah, Nina, I brought it up. That don’t mean there were any more bullets to spare.”
Something moved in the lake waters. A fish. Maybe. Whatever it was scurried off. Some of the new animals on Earth came to feast, but the bulk of the new creatures were herbivores and carrion eaters.
“Speaking of that last powwow,” Shepherd referred to a military conference held at the lakeside estate a month ago. “Prescott asked about you.”
He meant General Tom Prescott, in command of the 1 ^ st Armored Division as well as the “Western Command,” currently securing their flank along the Appalachians.
“How is he doing?”
“He’s doing okay, I suppose,” Shep probed. “Nice guy. Kind of a warped sense of humor, but nice.”
Nina sighed and gave in to his prodding. “Yeah, nice guy, but not exactly, well, not exactly the right fit for me. I hope he wasn’t too hurt when I broke it off.”
“Oh, he’s a tough fellow, seems to me his spine is still intact.”
Nina went silent and kept her eyes focused forward, as if studying her fishing line but Shep knew better. He scratched the back of his neck and waited for what he knew would come because they went through the same routine every six months or so. He hated it; he hated lying to her. Still, he had given his word to Trevor and what good would the truth do now? So he waited for the inevitable question and considered which strategy of deception he would use this time.
“Look, Shep, I think there’s more you’re not telling me. More that lots of people aren’t telling me about what happened. I feel as if something is missing. I’m just saying that I deserve the truth, that’s all.”
He licked his lips and answered, “I don’t know how many different ways I can tell it, Nina. You know it all.”
Funny, he thought, you’d think lying would get easier each time, but it don’t.
“Then tell me again.”
“Well aren’t you the little detective. What am I, a suspect or something? You going to keep badgering me until my story slips up or something like that?”
She glanced away as if ashamed for pushing, but turned her eyes back to him just as quick. No, he would not get away easy this time.
Shepherd adopted an annoyed tone as he told her the story once again. “Helicopter crashes. You and Scott lure away the bad things from me and Sal ‘cause I’m all banged up. Trevor and Jon Brewer mosey along and help me and Sal back to the estate, then they go looking for you. They don’t find you for nearly three whole days and there’s no sign of Scott. He didn’t make it but you look right as rain when they do stagger upon you, other than being out cold. A few months later, you get snatched by The Order and taken to one of their bases. Turns out, they had implanted you with some sort of thing that was recording your memories. Sort of like a spy thing, except you didn’t know about it.”
Part one of the story followed the truth with the exception being that Nina’s implant caused her to betray Trevor to The Order. The second part of the story included a different take on the rescue mission but one meant to cover up this betrayal. She had not been at fault and with all she lost, it made no sense to Shep to add guilt to the equation.
“Jon Brewer and Trevor and a whole posse of us help get you out of there but we didn’t know there were two implants. So you go spending the next couple of months fighting alongside all of us, killing the bad guys, wiping out the Redcoats, and helping win the Battle of Five Armies-hooray for you.”
Nina furled her brow; his sarcasm apparently hit a nerve.
“But then you start fainting. I never thought I’d see you faint by the way. So ole Reverend Johnny finds the second implant. To take it out we got to get you down to The Order’s base and find the right enzyme or something like that. We do that and the second implant is gone before it can cause any more brain damage to your stubborn l’il noggin.”
He punctuated the end of the story with an acerbic smile.
“Nothing else?”
“I reckon there’s a lot else but to be honest with you I didn’t go ‘round keeping a diary on everything you were up to. But all the big stuff, that about covers it.”
“Uh-huh.”
Nina turned away and stared at the water.
Shepherd squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. He figured he probably could have done without the sarcasm. She was, after all, just a girl who had had something bad happen to her. He wondered how he would react if he could not remember an entire year of his life; if he had awoken from that year as she had: changed.
That was the truth of it. She had changed. Shepherd could see that as clearly as he saw her sitting next to him. She seemed to want more in her life than just the fighting, but had been unable to find exactly what that was.
To him, Nina was like the daughter- the child — he never had, and he had just been mean to her. Man, did he wish he had a beer. Usually he brought a six-pack when he fished. Usually, when the two of them went, they brought a whole cooler full. Not this time. This was a temporary respite in the midst of a critical campaign, not a vacation.
The older man rested his fishing pole on the grass and slid closer to her. He put a fatherly arm on her shoulder.
“Say, I’m sorry, Nina.”
“Yeah, me too. I need to learn to stop looking to you for answers. I have to find them somewhere else.”
He said, “I just think I’ve been over about everything I can tell you.”
She rested her head, briefly, on his shoulder like a little girl looking for comfort.
“I’m sorry to be bothering you about all this. I won’t do it again, promise.”
“I know,” he answered, but she said that each time. In six months or so, he figured she would say it again.
The sound of approaching footsteps startled the two of them from the moment.
“Sir! General, Sir!”
Bogart hurried to the grassy slope. Shep and Nina stood to meet him. He held several sheets of paper toward the General.
“Sir, you need to look at this. It’s the Hivvans, Sir.”
Shep grabbed the papers. Nina peered over his shoulder.
“I’ll be damned. Get me a secure line to the estate. I need to talk to Brewer right away.”
Trevor leaned against the big oak desk in the den. His son crawled around on the floor amidst drawings of battles and monsters.