A view of the surf

"So I mean, Charlotte and Kaila got a walk on the beach... I'm thinking I deserve one." Helen laughed, looking over the guardrail with me. The grocery bag was heavy in my arms and the small path down to the secluded cove looked positively suicidal.

"No thanks, I'll be fine with ONE head injury today." I snickered. looking at the dirt path. Not too bad actually.

"Ah come on Brent, you're ruining all my hetero fantasies..." She rolled her eyes at me, "What if I hold your hand, will that make you happy?"

"Well, since you offered." I extended my free hand, which she clasped happily.

Helen grumbled softly as we began making our way down the narrow dirt path which led to the small beach. Several times I felt my feet beginning to slip, but Helen's hand on mine quickly steadied me. I was amazed that she was able to keep a hand on the milk jug and her bow at the same time, before I noticed that the small leather case was banging against her shoulder. I just hadn't thought about it before.

Wait... Something about her beret. I glanced at it again, trying to remember which incredibly popular unit had an owl as its mascot. It seemed right on the tip of my tongue but somehow wrong. Airborne... but their image was...

I felt my stomach twist in fear. Images were coming back. Something about the fog. I glanced around myself and noticed its approach. Rapid this time, fast...

I tightened my grip on Helen's hand, willing this to be a dream. She couldn't be... my face throbbed with pain and I heard her wince softly as her hand pressed against mine. Her hand... And I remembered her face, sorrowful, regretful, as she struck me.

"Helen..." I whispered. "What happens now?"

Her hand tightened, and she looked at me with a sad smile. It was the smile from the face of a veteran, watching a foolish young recruit head off to war. A smile that wished well, but didn't get its hopes up.

"Give em hell..." She whispered, and released my hand.

And I felt myself slipping...