Two piles of freshly dug dirt marred the landscape of what had once been David King’s front yard. The piles of dirt covered the graves he’d dug for his wife and daughter, they had not survived the invasion. He didn’t know how he had, no one from his squad had either. Just him. He wished he could be dead with the rest of them, but he was filled with too much white-hot rage. No, he needed to get revenge. Now that his wife and daughter were buried properly, he could work on his justified retribution.

Inside his home, even though it didn’t feel like home anymore, he stopped in front of a mirror. He hardly recognized himself. He was wearing his military uniform, which for his unit had been urban camouflage, though it was now mostly black from being covered in dirt and dried blood. His normally short black hair had grown long enough that he was now pulling it back into a ponytail – he thought manbuns were stupid. His beard had grown quickly, hiding some of the scars on his face not all. His face had been battered and bruised after his run in with the Greys but was now just a variety of healing scars. He’d found an eyepatch to cover the eye he’d lost and was surprised at how well the look suited him.

He took one last look at his daughter’s bedroom, a pale pink that he had painted upon her request last summer. Her stuffed animals were sitting at her tea table, still waiting for her to return with their tea and crumpets. He picked up a small white teddy bear and stuffed it into his bag, he and his wife had picked the bear out together as their daughter’s first stuffed animal. He couldn’t let it go but now it was time to leave, this house held nothing for him but painful memories.

He’d found he had a strange new “power” after his altercation with the Grey. He could create, and manipulate to an extent, fire. He conjured the flame in his hand, fueling it with his anger and pain before setting the house on fire on his way out the door.

All things considered he’d stolen his neighbor’s motorcycle instead of keeping his pickup truck. It got better gas mileage and could easily weave around the litany of obstacles he would run into. It wasn’t like his neighbor would need it anymore anyway. The fact that it would have pissed Bob off that David had stolen it made it all the more satisfying when he tossed his leg over the black motorbike and headed towards the Army base, Fort Sam Houston.