By Joshua Kratovil

The Long Walk Home

The dropship thunders into the troposphere, leaving sickly yellow chemtrails in its wake and rattling the transparisteel ceiling above me. “Sir?” My gaze wanders back to the smartly dressed Withholder behind the safety glass, drumming his fingers on the counter. “You’re sure?” he asks. “Just double companion-class rations?” I open my mouth to reply, but…