She was surprised to realize that he was right. Sasha knew she should have been scared. But her heart rate didn’t elevate. She didn’t start to sweat. She did feel confused. But she also felt…calm? Maybe I’ve just been so scared the last few days, my body can’t handle any more of it. Maybe I’ve reached the limit of my capacity for fear.

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “I should be afraid. This is all so…” she trailed off, grasping for words.

“Yeah, it’s fucked,” Roland said. And then he pulled up a canteen that had been hanging from his shoulder and took a deep pull. The scent of alcohol wafted over to her.

“You want some?” he asked. “I made it in my guts, filled a canteen as I finished up at the base.”

“Wait,” Sasha said, “what happened at the base?”

Roland gave another shrug and took another pull.

“The boss guys told me Manny had been reassigned to some sorta, I dunno, suicide battalion. This pissed me off, so I broke exactly half of their bones.”

Sasha could hear sirens now, off in the distance. It sounded like there were rather a lot of them. She imagined this was connected to whatever Roland had done.

“I’m going to guess you and Emmanuel aren’t really Martyrs, are you?”

He chuckled, “I mean, maybe someday, sister. Just now, I don’t see any causes worth dying for. But I get your meaning. And no, I don’t give a shit about your Heavenly Kingdom. Manny actively hates it. We’re spies. Or we were spies. Now he’s a captive, and I’m a terrorist. Again.”

“Oh,” she said. “I think I would like a drink.”

He handed her the canteen and she took a generous gulp. Sasha had only tried alcohol once before. She’d been thirteen, not yet a Christian, and at a party she’d been far too young to attend. She remembered the sensation of gentle warmth spreading down her throat, and the sense of elation and well-being that had followed. She’d taken a few more sips, which had made the world far too spinny for her comfort. She’d vomited not long after. But, she figured, if there was ever a time to try alcohol again, it’s now.

This drink tasted like beer, but it burned like a shot of hard liquor. Sasha passed the canteen back. She felt like taking more would be a bad idea.

“Alright, then,” Roland said, “I’m going to make a few guesses. Guess one is that you’re a little less than enthusiastic about the Heavenly Kingdom now that you’ve seen it up close. Guess two is that you’re looking for a way out. And guess three is you know something about where my little buddy went.”

“Huh?”

“Emmanuel. Manny. You know where he is.”

“I don’t…” she started.