“They’re here.”

  Therese’s voice. Sira’s eyes open and they weakly raise their head to see the blurred image of Rani going over to one of the windows. Their ears pick up a distant rumbling sound from outside.

  Sira recalls the captain mentioning a transport, so their first guess is the engine of a vehicle. The prospect of not walking for much longer seems too good to be true.

  “I see them.” Rani turns back to everyone. “Let’s go out front.”

  There’s a shuffle of movement about the room. The bar slides over the door's wood as Mikael moves it out of place and locks click as they come undone. Rani leaves first, with Therese sticking close behind her.

  The palms of Sira’s hands press against the cold floor, and they fail to restrain a soft grunt as they attempt to get to their feet. When a pair of boots step in front of them, Sira pauses and looks up to see Lionel, one hand stretched out toward them and what they assume is a smile hiding beneath his helmet.

  “Need a hand?”

  "I'm okay." Sira moves their legs beneath them and braces their hands against the wall, allowing them to slowly rise. Their voice remains embarrassingly raspy. They must be getting closer to being in a place where they can find something - anything - to drink, and that motivates them enough to kick it into gear.

  Without someone helping them off the floor for the second time today.

  “Um, thank you, though.”

  Lionel drops his hand. “Ah...you’re welcome.”

  He joins the others as they exit the room. When Sira fully stands up and hobbles to the door, they see Mikael holding it open for everyone to pass through, as he did earlier. He now seems to be intentionally not looking at them. They decide not to overthink it and pass by him without a word or even so much as another glance in his direction.

  It's possible that, with whatever is going to happen, Sira may not see any of these people again, and they might only have to deal with Mikael’s constricting aura for a little bit longer. He closes the door behind them and resumes his place at the back of the group.

  Even though the nap helped, Sira’s legs still ache, and they keep a hand against the wall. Rani, Therese, and Lionel hastily descend the staircase, but Sira and Mikael both lag slightly behind due to Sira’s slow pace. If he's irritated by them being unable to keep up, he doesn't comment.

  The distant rumble grows louder as the group reaches the ground floor. As they filter out onto the sidewalk, Sira finally sees its source: a large, dark shape in the distance, speeding down the street in their direction. Rani moves ahead of everyone while the others stay behind, closer to the building's entrance.

  The object cuts through the mist as it gets closer. It’s a military truck, or what could’ve once been a military truck. Black paint coats its surface, other than the small, reinforced windows and side-view mirrors. Its bulky armor and sharp angles make it look like its own kind of monster.

  Sira watches Rani straighten herself and place her hands behind her back. The others attempt something similar, but their posture isn't as rigid or practiced as Rani's, especially Lionel's. Mikael, however, hangs back and makes no real effort to appear respectable. He stands in the shadow of the building’s overhang, arms folded and chin lowered. He almost looks bored.

  Okay, Sira thinks, maybe they’re not as official as I thought. At least, not this particular crew.

  The truck slows to a halt in the middle of the street. The headlights continue to pierce the mist and the engine stays on. The driver and passenger doors remain shut, but a pair in the back swing open, and two figures hop out to the ground.

  Coming into view, the pair dons the same armored suits that Rani and the rest wear. One of them walks with a quicker pace and a broader stride than the other, not wasting any time in approaching the group. There's an air of easy confidence about him. He gives the person with him a short wave of his hand, who takes it as an order to hang back.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The captain, Sira assumes. Karim.

  Both are armed. Karim’s gun is slung over his back, but within easy reach, as the barrel is visible from where Sira stands. The person with him clutches their own weapon in their hands, not aimed up, but held at the ready. Sira guesses that the driver and any others that might be inside the vehicle are armed as well. Their stomach knots up a bit, but they're determined not to let any nervousness show - not any more than what might be showing already.

  As Karim gets closer, Sira notices that he also wears a black armband like the others, except it has four white stripes.

  Glancing around, Sira checks the armbands of their companions again: Rani has three and Mikael has two, while Lionel and Therese both only have one. The other person with Karim also has a singular stripe, but it’s a color other than white – difficult to tell with the red mist tainting everything, but it might be green.

  “This place hasn’t collapsed on your heads, so I can safely rule that out as the ‘problem’ you’re being so secretive about. At ease, Lieutenant.” Karim rests both of his hands on his hips. “But I’m counting an extra head. Who’s this?”

  He looks at Sira, whose shoulders turn rigid without them meaning to. Karim came off as nice enough over the radio, sure, but this is someone who holds a position of authority – a higher position than Rani, who was the one telling the others what to do up until this point. While they may not know for sure what the stripes indicate, four seems like a lot. Beneath his gaze, they can’t help but avert their eyes. So much for not coming off as nervous.

  Rani relaxes her posture - but only a little. She glances between the captain and Sira, clearly having trouble figuring out how to explain. They can’t blame her. “This is...Sira, sir. We rescued them from a phantom attack just a little while ago. It was a close call.”

  Behind the clear pane of his helmet, one of his eyebrows raises. "I'd heard something about an attack on a civilian, but I wasn't around when Therese called it in. It's not like you at all to attempt such a thing without clearing it with me beforehand."

  “I know, sir, but I did what I felt was necessary at the time. If we’d waited any longer, I don’t think they would have survived.”

  Sira’s stomach knots up further as they are reminded, again, of their close brush with death – or possibly something worse than death, based on the vague conversation they had earlier about what phantoms did to people. That's something Sira doesn't mind lacking clarity on.

  Karim considers her words for a minute, studying Sira, which doesn’t help the steadily increasing anxiety inside their body. Then, he gives Rani a short nod.

  “Alright. We’ll have to go over the particulars later. I trust the calls you make...most of the time. Not a huge deal to me, but you know how the protocol is. Just don’t tell me you requested I come out here personally to take in a survivor.”

  “No, sir.” Rani half-glances back at Sira before returning her attention to Karim. “I...think it might be the most convincing if we show you rather than tell you, but I’ll have to ask you to order those you brought with you to refrain from using their weapons.”

  “Uh, and why would I need to do that?”

  “You said you trust me, sir, and I ask you to extend that trust to this,” Rani says, with her shoulders raised and chin held high. “It’s going to seem crazy, but you aren’t going to believe it otherwise.”

  He pauses, then huffs as he turns back towards the person who came out of the truck with him.

  “Riggs, stand by and tell your colleague to do the same. No shots are to be fired unless I specifically order you to do so, regardless of what happens. Got it?”

  The person nods without question and heads back towards the vehicle. Karim looks to Rani, who then looks to Sira. Sira raises their eyes as she gestures for them to come closer, which they do with reluctance in their step.

  She then points to the back of her helmet. Sira gets the message.

  Here goes nothing.

  Aware of Karim’s attention on them, Sira timidly reaches back behind their head and starts to undo the straps that secure the respirator to their face. They lower their head for easier access, but still catch Karim stiffening. His hand moves to the grip of a gun holstered in his belt, although he doesn’t draw it. Rani technically only asked for his associates to avoid shooting, but maybe she trusted that he would do the same.

  It takes a bit longer than they want, but Sira successfully undoes the straps and lifts their head back up, removing the mask from their face entirely.

  There's plenty of mist surrounding them, interrupted only by the beams of light from the truck. Sira takes a slow, deep breath, and lets it out just as slowly, trying to keep calm, but it also adds to the point. They say nothing. If what everyone else has been talking about is true, then it should speak for itself.

  Silence. The tension in the air is as thick as the mist.

  Cradling the mask in their hands, Sira dares to meet Karim’s eye. The hand on his gun goes slack. It’s all they can see of his face, but his eyes are wide. Their lips twitch as they fight the urge to frown. This just makes me feel like a freak.

  The individual who accompanied Karim, standing next to the opened driver-side door, recoils and hits their back against the truck’s exterior, swearing. A head peeks out from inside, before instantly ducking back out of view. The sound of the door slamming shut punctuates the scene.

  As for Karim, he lets out a joyless laugh. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me."