"The night's not really darkest before the dawn, you know."
I open one eye to look at Marshall Abrix. She was leaning against the wall, next to a boarded up window.
"Uh huh." I reply, disinterested. Temporal solar dynamics were not on the forefront of my to-give-a-shit list. The building thundered and shook again.
"Ridiculous." She waved a hand. "Sunlight streaming through the upper atmosphere from the star just out of view of the horizon, bouncing down and illuminating everything..." She trails off as we were rocked by another shell.
"Right. How dare the creators of an idiom fail to check the scientific basis for their inspirational saying." I roll my eyes. The lights flicker and go out.
"Literally the least they could do." She mumbled from the darkness.
With the power out, the only light came from a gap in the window barricade. The occasional flash of their artillery firing, followed a few seconds later by a resounding thud and plaster drifting down from the ceiling onto my head. I sigh.
"Go for Abrix." The Marshall opens her comms. "Copy. Situation report follows..." She keeps talking, but I've stopped listening. The building shakes again.
My hand fumbles around in my gear. I pull out a picture. It lights up as I gaze at it, spreading a warm aura around me. It's a photograph of my sister and her husband. I haven't seen them since they made their run for the city. I hope they made it.
I haven't gotten a call, so I don't hope too hard.
But the picture will always be here, so that's something. I tell myself. I wonder if they took a picture of me with them.
I don't think they did.
Hm.
"Now when the sun is completely on the other side of the planet, that's when it's darkest." Marshall Abrix is back to the wall again. I can just see her outline in the glow of my picture. I don't engage. "Especially if there's no moon."
I shrug and let my head rest against the wall behind me. The Marshall and I have been trapped here for hours. We broke from the main group of refugees to the city to try and draw enemy fire away. I think it worked, because we're going to die in an old ass building and not of old age. Oh well.
Communication has been spotty, but I think I heard that the group we were escorting made it. Big damn heroes we are.
I look at the picture again. Sorry Sis.
"Hey Rook." The Marshall calls to me as she pulls a piece of the barricade on the window down. I start to protest, but a thought registers. The building isn't shaking. There hasn't been a shell in almost a full minute. Odd.
There's a two foot hole to look through now, and there's nothing to see. Darkness. No flash of artillery fire in the horizon, no small arms going off. Nothing. Just... darkness.
I put the picture away. I don't want to be the only bright thing on the horizon.
"You'll like this Rook." The Marshall tells me, and points to an invisible spot on the horizon. It's pitch black, but I don't want to ask what I'm looking for. "What time is it?" She asks.
I check my watch.
"Uhh... zero one thirty... ish. Ma'am." I respond, confused.
"Good. Coordinates confirmed." Marshall speaks into her comm again. I don't turn away from the window. What am I looking for?
And then I see it. The blooming red rose on the horizon, billowing up from the artillery position we'd been assailed by all night. A booming, blossoming light bright as the sun rolling down the ridge line, and bathing the whole place in a dazzling yellow. A new dawn.
And then I hear it, the sound of low-atmo jumpjets screaming overhead. The cavalry came. A smile cracks my lips.
Maybe I'll get my sister that picture after all.
"I will concede, Rook..." The Marshall pats me on the shoulder. "That in certain, metaphorical situations..." She waves out the window "That the night can be darkest just before the dawn."
We smile at each other, relieved.
"Sometimes. Now, grab your kit. We've got a long hike still, those jump-jets aren't giving us a lift."
I sling my pack over my shoulder with renewed vigor.
I slip my photo into my breast pocket, and set off into the burning night once more with Marshall Abrix, the Dawncaller.
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