The Base, Pt. 2

They moved towards the largest compound. Around them it looked as though God had stepped from the sky and applied a blowtorch. More blackened corpses, some disintegrating into ash. Melted chainlink fences. Scorched husks of vehicles. Aidan peered into the window of a jeep that had a corpse sprawled over the steering wheel.

“I don’t think any of this shit is salvageable,” Gerard said. “God damn it. What did this?”

“Maybe a dragon,” Wynne said. Gerard stared at him. “What? Since the Nightmare all sorts of impossible things have happened. Is it that hard to believe?”

“A fucking dragon,” Gerard slapped him upside the head. “This is a military base. Could be the army’s starting to turn in on itself. Maybe the Ranch stopped taking orders. Maybe they napalmed their own installation. We don’t need any Harry Potter bullshit to come up with answers.”

Gerard was bigger than both of them and meaner. There wasn’t anyone in Rachel who could stand toe-to-toe with him in a fistfight, so Wynne put up with his shit and Aidan put up with his shit. He tongued his mouth where his incisor and canine were missing. He wondered if he’d miss them the next time he ate.

“Dragons and bombers are brothers,” Aidan said. “If you go far enough forward or far enough back, you’ll see that. It’s all a loop. Medieval peasants were telling stories of napalm. We’re telling stories of dragons.”

“I swear to God,” Gerard said, “you’re not going to make it back to Rachel if you don’t shut the hell up. Nobody will miss you.”

Aidan went back to tonguing the gaps in his teeth. He glanced at the sun. It’s path across the sky was almost complete. Another couple of hours and the air would cool. Maybe Gerard’s temper would cool with it. Or maybe whatever had destroyed this place would come back with the darkness, swooping in like it did before in the night and then it would be their bodies growing cold. Three more dead soldiers.

Gerard picked over the remains of the jeep finding a scorched canteen that still contained water on the floor. He unscrewed the lid, took a drink, and offered it to Wynne and Aidan. They shook their heads. He shrugged and the kept moving.

The entrance to the complace, a metal door, had been melted into slag. There were more corpses around the entrance as though the shadowy doorway had spit them all up. The trio peered through it, but couldn’t see anything in the unlit, windowless building.

“Aidan, you go in first,” Gerard said.

“Is there something in there you’re afraid of?” Aidan asked. He had said it curiously, but he realized instantly that Gerard did not take it well. His eyes flashed and the corners of his mouth tightened. He stomped over towards Aidan, who unconsciously took a couple of steps back.

“Gerard… hey…” Wynne said.

Gerard grabbed Aidan by the back of the neck and dragged him to the entrance.

“You do what I fucking told you,” he said, and then he shoved Aidan through the entrance. Aidan stumbled a couple of steps before his foot caught on something sending him sprawling down the hallway. He caught himself with his hands and grunted as a pain shot up his wrist, his rifle jabbing him in the thigh.

Aidan pushed himself on his hands and knees, looking back at what caught his foot. It was another corpse – the first civilian that he’d seen. A woman in floral-patterned skirt and a white blouse, her skin charred. He turned over and sat, rubbing his wrist.

“Their clothes,” he muttered.

“Stand up and keep walking,” Gerard said. He had his rifle pointed at Aidan. Aidan didn’t notice.

“Their clothes. They all look as though they’ve been burned alive, but their clothes are fine. We never noticed.”