Casey stood on a ridge of red rock. Behind her was a barren wasteland. Ahead, a dark, dense jungle loomed.
A drone, Echo-7, hummed to life above her head. Its camera lens locked onto her face.
She ignored it. She walked toward the edge of the jungle, finding a spot on higher ground, sheltered from the wind.
She dropped her backpack. She pulled out the broken tent. The waterproof coating was peeling off in strips. It was useless as a shelter.
She grabbed the fabric and ripped. The sound was loud in the quiet air. She tore the tent into long, sturdy strips of cloth.
She looked at a large, dead tree. The roots formed a natural hollow. Perfect.
She knelt on the hard, rocky ground. She didn't have a shovel. She used her hands. She curled her fingers into claws and started to dig.
The soil on A13 was hard. Packed clay and sharp stones. It fought back.
Her nails cracked. The skin on her fingertips tore. Blood mixed with the dirt.
The live chat was active again. Gross. She looks like a dog digging a grave. Pathetic.
Casey didn't feel the pain. She kept digging. Rhythmically. Efficiently. The pile of dirt behind her grew.
A sharp beep came from her wrist. A red light flashed. A holographic screen popped up. Director Quinn's face appeared.
"Casey," Quinn said, his voice arrogant. "I'm getting immense pressure from General Richmond's people. He is strongly suggesting you withdraw for your own good. Tap the withdrawal button now. Stop embarrassing yourself and upsetting Coralie."
Adolphus. The name triggered a flash of memory. Her past self, kneeling in the rain, begging this man for a crumb of attention. Him kicking her away.
A wave of nausea rolled through her stomach. Her eyes went cold.
The chat was going crazy. The General is so protective! True love!
Casey looked up. She stared directly into the drone's camera. Her face was smeared with dirt and blood. Her eyes were dead.
"Tell that self-righteous idiot," she said, her voice clear and steady, "to take his white lotus and get the hell away from me."
She raised her middle finger. "Son of a bitch," she said flatly.
The chat froze. The internet broke.
Quinn's face on the screen went pale. He fumbled with the controls and the call cut off.
Casey hit the mute button on her wristband. Silence. She shook the dirt off her hands and went back to digging.
