Technomancer 24: Willow

**Warning: Mentions of war. An unexpected Death. Mention of a character's past drug history.**

“Load the trucks. Go! Go! Go!” Soldiers ran in every direction, travelling in their squads, forming long lines behind the remaining sage-covered army trucks. It had been that way for hours.

Leron took off his jacket and threw it into the back of the last truck where he would be sitting. It was too hot for formalities. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and leaned against the bumper. A pair of jets roared over, and his gaze drifted upward to see their white streams drifting through the orange sky. 1500 hours had long passed, and it had taken much longer to load the members of the drone corps than anyone had expected. Prisoners did not make motivated soldiers.

Sergeant Dusty Jacobs marked off Matt, the friend who had taken him to the strip club, along with Ben, who could only be called his accomplice. They high-fived each other and leapt over the tailgate. I should have separated those two, Leron thought, groaning inwardly at the laughs already coming from the back. The ride was certainly bound to be an entertaining one.

Sadie Griffith was next, winking at Jacobs as she passed. She gave him the call-me sign, and he grinned like a secret conversation was passing between them. And it probably was; the chips in their heads made it possible. Her non-government issue cowgirl hat and boots had caused many arguments between Leron and Captain Aldrin. Without them, she turned into a monster willing to pick a fight with anyone who got in her way. After a few fights with the other soldiers, Aldrin had given in. She rested her boots on the bumper and climbed into the truck in style.

Jedd Davis shuffled forward. He pulled the strand of grass from his mouth and tossed it onto the pavement as he struggled up onto the bumper. His retired muscles were shaking beneath his weight. Sergeant Jacobs rushed to his aid as he began to slip, and with help, he made it over the tailgate. He gave a mock salute with a grin out the back. “Thanks, Serg, this is gonna be a rough ride,” he said in his rustic ranchers’ twang and disappeared inside.

“That one ain’t gonna make it,” Sergeant Jacobs grumbled through the chip in his mind, scratching at a rash on his forearm. He scowled at his arm before running his hand through his messy brown hair. The muscles across his back appeared tense, and he moved as if uncomfortable in his skin.

“He should be fine as long as we are not forced into direct combat,” Leron muttered, crouching to retie the shoelace on his army boot. “Remember, our battle is in the skies, not on the ground.”

When Leron looked up, he noticed Jacobs shaking his head while continuing to mark off a few more people. “I wish I could believe that.”

Leron stood and glanced over Jacob's shoulder at the clipboard and noticed the man's shaky handwriting. “Nervous?” he asked as he looked out at the line. There were only a few people left.

“Nah,” Jacobs lied. “The shakes are a gift from my past drug use. They only happen when….” He laughed, “Well, maybe I am...they only happen when I’m stressed. None of us should be going into battle. We’re misfits, ranchers and people who just happened to mess around with drones for one reason or another. This has me longing for a hit, man. I’ve been clean for years. I don’t suppose they’d let us have some weed?”

“I doubt it.” Leron patted his shoulder. “We’re almost done. I think it will be easier once we get moving.”

Sergeant Jacobs marked a few more people off. Leron’s eyes drifted to the lot. Even if they were late, there were other corps still loading vehicles. He could even see Captain Aldrin overseeing his group of mechanics. He recognised Larry from the factory, climbing into one of the trucks and was tempted to wave, but if Captain Aldrin saw, he would be livid. They were supposed to be equals, but Aldrin always had more pull with Major Andrews.

As if sensing his gaze, Captain Aldrin left the corps of mechanics and approached. “Richards! You should be on the road! What’s taking so long?”

“The same as you most likely. You know as well as I do, these people don’t want to be here.”

“Shut your mouth,” Aldrin ordered, glancing around him nervously. “You know, we need to keep morale up. Major And…”

“He’s…he’s right,” came a weak voice from behind him. Leron turned to see Willow. Her large brown eyes were wide with fear. She was so tiny, and the army uniform she wore did not fit her fairylike figure. The military tattoo on her neck looked out of place on her. A mark of ownership on her porcelain skin. She would never have signed up for the military, not ever. She was always singing songs from the '60s. She had once told him she had lived with her grandparents, who were hippies.

Leron shook his head and urged, "Back down, Brown. You don't want this fight." Taking a direct stand against someone like Aldrin would only result in violence.

“Stay out of this, Brown!” growled Aldrin. “Get in the truck.”

“No! I won’t do it,” yelled Willow. “Killing is wrong.”

The words rang clear in Leron’s mind, echoing his own sentiments. "Please. Willow. You have to stop," he begged.

Captain Aldrin stormed toward her, towering over her. He bent down until his face was inches from hers, and she shrank back. “Get. In. The. Vehicle,” he repeated in a threatening tone.

“No,” Willow yelled, regaining her confidence. She took off her army jacket, revealing her tie-dye t-shirt with the peace sign, threw it to the ground and tore out the tie from her bun. “And you know what? I quit!”

Willow ran.

Almost in slow motion, she laughed, her blonde hair flying freely behind her. She glanced back, and the smile on her face was filled with joy. She was free.

The crack of a gunshot filled the air.

She dropped to the ground.

“Nooooo!” screamed Leron, running toward her. The minds of the other members of the drone corps filled his head, wanting to know what was happening, but he blocked them out. He crouched and took hold of her. They might be a bunch of misfits who didn’t belong on a battlefield, but they were his soldiers. They relied on him. He had worked so hard to save them from Leron 2.0, and now they were already dying in his arms.

Willow looked up at him, choking on the blood pouring from her mouth. She touched the side of his face and, through the chip in his mind, echoed her last words. “I know you feel the same. Don’t let them make you one of them…”

He nodded. “I won’t.” Leron's heart ached as he clutched her toward him, feeling the life drain from her body. It went cold beneath his fingers.

The sound of footsteps came from behind, followed by a tug at his arm. “Richards. Leave her. We don’t have time for traitors. Let the dead lie. There will be plenty more where she came from,” Aldrin said.

Leron looked back at him, shaking with anger. When he saw the pistol in Aldrin’s hand, his hand tightened into a fist. “You bastard!” he screamed, diving on top of him and knocking him to the ground. He pulled his braced arm back, ready to punch. The gears clicked into place, prepared to launch.

“Go ahead,” Aldrin threatened.

The click of multiple guns surrounding them caused Leron to hesitate. He could still call every drone to take them all out, but that would result in even more deaths, and Willow would not have wanted that.

Waiting for your orders, Leron 2.0 said. The others are moving into position.

Sensing the traffic between chips, Leron became filled with panic that a fight would break out. He sent out a blanket response through the chips, ordering them to remain in position.

Glaring at Aldrin, he thought of punching him anyway and killing all the soldiers surrounding him. Men like Aldrin needed to be taught a lesson. He had learned that the hard way with Mattias. He gripped his hand into a tight fist, breathing heavily. He froze, thinking of the promise he had made to himself. He had to survive this war. He had a wife and child who depended on him. The battle with Aldrin could be fought another time. Dropping his fist, he climbed to his feet and offered Aldrin his hand. “I’m sorry, Captain Aldrin, I don’t know what came over me.”

Aldrin knocked his hand away and stormed off toward the truck.

Leron stared at those with guns trained on him. “It’s over. Get moving.”

“But, sir, you just decked another officer. Shouldn’t we call the Major?” asked one of them, looking very unsure of himself. He wasn’t wrong.

“No, we don’t have time. Get moving!” Leron yelled, edging his voice with a tone of urgency. To his surprise, they obeyed, rushing towards their vehicles and leaving him alone on the pavement. It occurred to him that his soldiers weren’t the only ones who didn’t want to be there.

Leron worked to calm himself, brushing the dust off his army pants and wiping the blood from his hands on Willow’s shirt. I’m sorry. You deserved better, he thought. I will get vengeance for you. Leaving her behind, he returned to the truck and climbed in.

“Hey, the cap made it!” Matt yelled with excitement. "We were about to come at those guys and rescue you. There are a few drones in one of the vehicles nearby."

"I'm glad you didn't," Leron said. "Good job to all of you following orders. I appreciate the loyalty, but our fight is not here, and while Captain Aldrin is a bastard, he's on our side."

"But what about Willow?" demanded Sadie. "He killed her."

Leron frowned, crouching before her in the back of the truck. He took her hand and looked her in the eyes. "I'll make sure he gets what he deserves, but the soldiers who came to his aid are just like you," he said, trying to keep a gentle tone. "They don't want to be here either. We don't want them caught in the crossfire."

She nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. The others hung their heads, seeking comfort from each other. They had already lost their first comrade, and they hadn't even left San Antonio.

“That was close,” Jacobs muttered, across from him as he settled into his spot in the back of the truck. He retrieved his jacket from the back and draped it across his lap for comfort.

Leron gave him a silent nod and stared at his shaking hands, still feeling the remnants of Willow’s blood on them. With a sigh, he stared out the back of the truck, resting his braced arm on his knee. Had he become so hardened that the loss of life no longer bothered him the way it once had? Perhaps he was becoming like them - another monster. He should have protected her.

The truck rumbled forward, and Leron watched as Willow’s body disappeared behind them, feeling nothing but sadness.