The wreckage is everywhere—rocks and cement and toppled columns, busted computers and equipment with their exposed electrical wires sparking dangerously. When I smell the familiar stench of gasoline, I realize that I’m basically standing in the middle of a huge powder keg. This place could go up in flames at any second. It’s sort of a miracle there haven’t been any more explosions yet.

I have to get out of here quick. Luckily, despite the fact that we’re so far down, there’s so much debris piled high in every direction that I figure it won’t be too hard to climb my way to the surface.

I figure out which direction will be the easiest to negotiate, and start to head that way—and then stop. I look behind me, at the guy lying there on the ground—the Mogadorian who still hasn’t stirred beyond a groan.

I could leave him here to die alone. I have myself to worry about, and besides, one more dead Mogadorian is a good thing. But something stops me.

It’s not that I’m just being nice. It’s way too late to start having moral qualms now. After all, I’ve killed more than my share of Mogs since all this started.

For a moment I wonder if my dad ever would have guessed that I had it in me. I wonder if it would give him even a tiny bit of pride if he knew.

Of course, my dad’s pride is the last thing I’m looking for now. That’s not why I decide to turn back, though. Instead, it’s because I know that a single, unarmed Mogadorian officer can do me more good alive than he can dead. For one thing, if he was stationed here he’ll know his way around the surrounding area and even any nearby towns. Deep in the middle of the desert, without even a compass to guide me, that stuff matters if I want to get out alive.

So I head back to the guy, grab him under the arms, and start hauling him along.

This guy’s really heavy, and it’s all I can do to drag him over the craggy piles of junk and rocks as we make our way across the vast expanse of the base’s ruins toward the edge of the crater. The sun is higher in the sky now and we’re completely exposed to it. I feel a bead of sweat forming at my brow and making its way down my face and then, before I know it, I’m completely drenched. I try to clear a path as I move, kicking aside dusty monitors and crushed aluminum piping and whatever else is blocking the way.