Reapers: The Shadow Soldiers by Josh Collins Page B

cannon, so I think I’m a little more necessary than convenience,” he argued. Rhett turned toward him.
    “Don’t overplay your use,” he grumbled. “There are plenty of technicians in the military that can handle your job.” Burns had now stepped out of the circle, and his only focus was on breathing. Sweat ran down his forehead profusely—more than it had during his exercise.
    Brosi continued. “Then why did they select me instead of those guys, huh?” he asked.  
    “Because they’re looking for people stupid enough to think they could be heroes,” Rhett answered, arms crossed once more.  
    “So, now we’re idiots?” Carmen jeered.  
    Rhett shook his head, facing her again. “I didn’t say idiots.”
    “But you meant it,” Brosi argued. “You don’t truly think we can win do you?” Both civilians were in his face, but Rhett maintained his calm despite being outnumbered.
    “I did...once,” he answered. “However, proper soldiers know that victory isn’t always guaranteed. These men are disciplined, focused, and trained. Not civilians fresh off the streets.”  
    “Civilians?” Brosi mocked. “Who are you to judge anyway? You let them lock you away in this facility! You gave up on the Dominion entirely!” he exclaimed, gaining Rhett’s full attention as the man began to leer over him.  
    “Really?” Rhett snarled. “What would you have me do? Fight against the crew? Disobey my orders?” The man simmered as he stepped forward. “Let me tell you something, Brosi, life is dirty. There is no such thing as a win-win situation.” Physically, Brosi stood no chance against Rhett’s brawn—yet he didn’t waiver.  
    “No,” he concurred, “not when you give up.” He looked Rhett squarely in the eyes. The two scowled at each other, neither wanting to give it up.  
    Burns suddenly let out a whimper as he collapsed to one of his knees. It was too much. The lies...the faulty armor...the cannon...the gravity of it all! He couldn’t breathe.  
    “C-Colonel?” Brosi stammered, noticing the struggling man and giving up his feud with Rhett.
    “Stop!” Burns bellowed. “Stop calling me that! I’m not a colonel—I’m—” he frantically tried to find the rest of the sentence but could not. He stood weakly. All he knew was that he needed space to breathe. He stuttered down the hall, pushing off walls as he tried to find a place that he recognized.  
    He needed to reach his quarters, and he needed to see Evelyn.  
    As he stumbled forward, he noticed his team wasn’t following him. However, the maze of halls made it difficult to find his quarters. He ended up busting into whatever room he could find and quickly found the nearest wall in the darkness. He didn’t dare turn on the lights. He just slid down the wall onto the floor and gulped breaths.  
    Even though the mysterious room was dark, Burns managed to look upon the portrait. He should have never come along, that was blatantly clear now. He should’ve known the whole thing would fall apart. He’d been looking down on Brosi’s naïveté this entire time, but maybe he was just as hopeless.  
    The door then opened with a hiss, and the bright light from outside spilled in.  
    Burns looked up and saw Index’s thin silhouette standing in the doorway.  
    “What do you want?” he grumbled.  
    “I came to help,” she said as she entered. He watched her every move.  
    She walked forward a bit and then leaned on one of the objects concealed in the dark. Even though she wasn’t standing in its place, the door remained open, casting a few slivers of light onto her slightly narrow face.  
    “You’re hardly a therapist,” Burns dismissed her help, looking back down at the portrait.
    “No, you’re right,” she concurred. “I’ve always been a lot better at deception and destruction.” She crossed her arms while still leaning on the object. Burns grimaced—she’d finally admitted it. Of course, it could still be a