Virus

Thirty

"The act of dying is one act of life," Sara quoted, reading a book on the couch next to me.

The living room is beautiful. Mahogany floors and walls. A gorgeous chandelier made out of elk antlers, two brown leather couches. It felt good and normal to sit on a comfy couch, sip a glass of French wine, and read a book.

There were only twelve books in the cabins library. The Great Gatsby, Water for Elephants, and a quote book. The rest were children's books.

I'd chosen Water for Elephants because it seemed intriguing.

It was hard to focus on the book though. Tomorrow, Sara and I would be deployed in the last battle of the Canadian-American War. This one will be fought by a mixture of mortal men and exo-soldiers.

The laptop on the coffee table buzzed and I flung it open, happily abandoning the book.

It was an update from Kelso. During his time, fighting in Canada, he'd written Sara and I weekly updates.

I'm sorry to tell you but Girida was captured by a squadron of Canadian soldiers fighting in Ontario. He was executed by lethal injection. Sara McEntire, or should I say, Madam President McEntire, you are now in charge. Dot worry, Ontario was conquered three days ago, nine days after his death. Ontario, Nunavut, and everything westward, now belong to you Madam President McEntire. The rest of us will be coming home soon. Dharma said she has family in British Columbia and wanted to stay up here. She said that she hoped you agreed with her choice and she'd come to visit lots. Travis and I are headed home this minute.

It's time to finally take back our country.