Aaron found himself back in the bus. His head ached and stung. He wiped the area around his brow and brushed off small bits of dry blood. He looked around and noticed that everyone stared at him with anger. The only ones who seemed to be fine with his presence were Jonah and Kat.

"You were out for an hour," Kat said from the seat behind him.

"What happened?" Aaron asked, still rubbing his head.

"Kept exploring," Jonah replied. "Good news is Longridge is now our territory and no one else died."

"What's the bad news?" Aaron said. He tried sitting up but slumped back down into his seat as sharp pains exploded through his gut and back. He could tell most of them were bruises, but something felt broken.

"Bad news is Shaw tallied up all the casualties and continued beating you even after he knocked your lights out. Fourteen times, he kicked and punched."

Aaron covered his mouth with his arm and coughed, tiny specks of blood spraying on his sleeve. He looked down at his left hand. A long cut traveled across the palm of his hand, already scabbed over.

"What happened there?" Jonah asked.

"That undead son of a bitch launched one of our own soldiers at me," Aaron replied, still looking at his cut. "Took me down like a cannon. I think it was Errol."

The bus slowly approached the gates of Matheson. Gears cranked and shifted as the gates opened up, and the bus drove forward to approach its destination. The second bus entered the garage and the gates slowly cranked shut.

The doors of the bus opened up and the surviving DZI silently and somberly stepped out, with Aaron and his two friends the last to exit. It took Aaron even longer given the fact he was limping, and he had to lean on Kat to move anywhere. All of them gathered together in a group, with Shaw and some of the higher ranking soldiers at the front. Shaw grabbed a crate and stood on top of it, preparing for a speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Dead Zone Infantry," Shaw began. "Today we have reclaimed a small part of the outer world, a little town known as Longridge. In an hour we'll be asking for volunteers to journey back to Longridge to make sure it stays under our control. However, like most missions, we've come back with fewer men than when we left. Those men sacrificed their lives to save not only the rest of their squad, but what remains of humanity."

The soldiers bowed their heads down in respect. Agonizing guilt filled Aaron from head to toe. Even if he didn't do it himself, he was indirectly responsible for these deaths.

"In honor of these men, we will engrave their names into the concrete wall of this tower along with every accolade they've received and every Deadman they've slain. A memorial shall be held tomorrow." Shaw pointed toward Aaron. "O'Connor, for being the young man responsible for the separation of our squad ultimately leading these fallen soldiers to their deaths, you are banned from the memorial service."

Aaron hung his head down. "Yes, sir."

"I've also discussed it with Colonel Schaefer and the rest of Matheson's officers, and we've decided to relieve you of your duties."

"WHAT?!"

"You've been officially discharged."

"No! You can't!"

"We can. And we already have."

"But..."

Two DZI soldiers, both of them way stronger than Aaron, approached him and grabbed him by his arms. The rest of the soldiers parted ways to form a path for them to drag him out.

"Sorry, bruv," Jonah said with defeat. "We can go out for drinks later with the Koslov girls if it makes you feel better."

Aaron didn't respond. The loss of his career had choked him. Even though he was only eighteen, the last two years of his life in the Dead Zone Infantry gave him a purpose. A reason to risk his life. Without it, he was just like everyone else in Matheson: just another human surviving for the sake of being alive. He'd just be another person staying alive to avoid the feeling of death.

In fact, death wasn't the scariest thing in the world. Humanity's worst fear was the inability to die.

One soldier opened up the door back into the Matheson Commons and the other shoved Aaron out. He fell flat to the ground as the door shut behind him, the crashing sound echoing throughout the tower.

Aaron stood up and looked back at the entrance to the DZI's headquarters. He knew he would never see the inside of it again. Sure, he might still talk to Kat and Jonah every once in a while, but anything else related to the DZI would officially be dead to him. It wouldn't even be his choice.

He returned his gaze to Matheson Commons. The Commons were a kind of town square where the inhabitants of the tower would get around and shop and waste their short-lived existences. Small cube-shaped buildings filled the roads, each one rust-covered and grimy. Most of them were shops where the inhabitants would receive their rations, but there was also a library, a pub, an orphanage, and a small school. From the middle of the Commons you can stare up and see all the way to the unfinished top floor, the steel beams working as a barrier between the tower and the sky.

A few citizens stared at Aaron with shock. The looks that distressed him the most were from a woman and her young daughter, staring at him like he was one of the Deadmen. That's when he realized he was still soaked in blood and his face was riddled with cuts and bruises thanks to Shaw.

"Sorry," he said. "Mission didn't end well."

He trudged down the path toward the elevator, still trying to avoid the concerned looks of the citizens. He kept his view on the path, only taking glances at the signs leading toward the elevator.

The elevator was gated and rust-covered, yet it worked like a charm. The door slowly opened up and Aaron stepped in. He pressed the sixth button and the elevator shut its doors.

Since the elevator was gated, he had a clear view of the Commons as they disappeared below him. Each new floor of the building was exactly the same as the other: decorated with balconies, peeling paint, and fluorescent lights. He could also see another elevator on the opposite end of the tower rising to its destination.

The elevator Aaron slowed to a halt as it arrived on the sixth floor. The doors creaked open and he stepped into the hallway. Dim lighting gave the hall an eerie glow, but Aaron ignored the creepy atmosphere and continued limping down the hall, crossing over a bridge that overlooked the rest of Matheson.

After completing his trek across the bridge, he reached his room. 656. He pulled out his key and unlocked the door, stepping into his own little world.

His only escape from the rest of the tower was a boring studio apartment with one window. Granted, almost every other room in the tower was a studio apartment, but he still couldn't get used to his mundane flat. The only memorable items in his flat were a couch, a bed, a radio that could only play Matheson's news and music stations, and a bathroom with a shower. There was no such thing as luxury or comfort in Matheson.

Aaron closed the door behind him and locked it. He placed the keys on a desk next to his couch and approached his radio. He pressed the power button and turned the knob to raise the volume.

"...trouble out in the Dead Zone as a mission gone wrong concluded with the deaths of fourteen Dead Zone Infantrymen at the hands of an Abnormal," the radio announcer said. "While DZI Commander Zachary Shaw was eventually able to kill the beast, he could not prevent the deaths of his fellow soldiers. As a result, former officer Aaron O'Connor, whom Shaw has blamed for the deaths, has been discharged from the Infantry and banned from tomorrow's memorial service. He is now declared—"

"Fuck that," Aaron groaned, quickly changing the station. The report was replaced with the soothing sounds of "Somewhere Over The Rainbow".

Aaron stripped off his uniform and dumped it down his flat's laundry chute, where it would eventually land in the cleaners' station. He walked into his bathroom and stared into the mirror at the bruised and blood-soaked traitor he'd been declared.

This is the blood of a monster, Aaron thought to himself. Yet I'm the one accused of being a killer.

He turned on the water and stepped into the shower. The warm water caused the blood to stream down his body into the drain. The floor was stained crimson and he felt like he was at a crime scene. For a crime he didn't even commit.

A stinging, burning pain buzzed through his left hand as he brushed it through the water. He looked at his palm and found the cut he received earlier. He placed his hand back down to his side and finished up his shower, trying his best to stifle screams as the warm water made contact with the rest of his cuts and bruises.

He turned off the water and stepped out. He grabbed the towel and pressed it all over his body to dry off. Once he finished, he wrapped it around his waist and pulled out a first aid kit. He opened up the box, pulled out an elastic wrap, and wrapped it around his hand. Blood seeped through the portion covering his hand.

He walked back into the rest of his flat toward a dumbwaiter near the laundry chute. He pressed a red button next to the device, and the doors opened up, revealing a clean set of clothing. It was a hooded long-sleeve shirt and jeans with tears in multiple places. Those were the only clothes he ever wore, aside from his DZI uniform.

He tiredly dragged himself to his bed and collapsed onto it, not caring about uncovering the sheets. He glanced over at the clock hanging on the wall and noticed that it was only 5:30. Despite that, he felt like he spent the entire day working.

Exhaustion was slowly taking over him, like if sleep was a demon trying to take control of him. He could feel the world growing darker. The soothing music faded away, along with the rest of Matheson.

He fell asleep.