Archive of Our Own

Lieutenant Ziira had a reputation as one of the strictest instructors at the Academy. Even the usual trouble-makers behaved in her class. Bridge swore that she had eyes on the back of her head and that was really saying something, because several of his teachers actually did have eyes on the backs of their heads, and they weren't half as observant.

"Let's talk about your final project," the Lieutenant said. She dropped a large box full of books on top of her desk. "The final for this class will be a practical demonstration of your wilderness survival skills. For five days, you and two of your classmates will travel through the wilderness using only standard-issue S.P.D. survival gear. Each of you will keep a detailed journal of your trip. Your final grade will be based on your journals, your group evaluations, and whether or not you successfully reach the rendezvous point in time. Any questions?"

Sky raised his hand immediately.

"Cadet Tate?"

"Sir," Sky asked, "will we be graded individually, or as a group?"

"Both. This assignment is about teamwork as much as it is about wilderness survival. Your group grade will be worth seventy percent of your final score."

The entire class groaned and a few cadets whispered to each other. One sharp look from their instructor silenced them instantly. "Anything else?"

Bridge raised his hand, a little hesitantly.

"Cadet Carson."

"Sir, who will be in each group? Do we get to choose, or is it random?"

Bridge glanced at Sky and immediately regretted it. If any of his classmates learned about his crush, they would tease him even more than they already did. Sky had never shown an interest in dating anyone, regardless of gender or species. And even if Sky was interested in someone, Bridge was pretty sure it wouldn't be him, a clumsy, awkward fourteen-year-old with freakish powers.

"I have already assigned each of you to a group." Lieutenant Ziira glanced at her datapad. "Group B-1 will be Cadet Gulh, Rocha and Dalton..."

Bridge stopped paying attention until his name came up. "... finally, group B-6 will be Tate, Drew and Carson." Bridge couldn't believe his luck, but his soon-to-be teammates looked less than thrilled.

"That's it! Class dismissed." Their instructor had to shout over the rustle of books being packed. "Remember to pick up the assignment packet on the way out."

Syd stuffed her notebook in her bag and tried to slip out of the room without being noticed. She was almost to the door when the dreaded question came.

"Cadet Drew, may I speak with you?"

"Sir?"

Lieutenant Ziira waited until all the other students had left to room. "Let me be completely honest with you, Cadet Drew. As you know, this class is a prerequisite for you to even be considered for a squad. I understand that overall, you have an excellent academic record, excluding your minimal passes in the last two wilderness survival courses."

Syd nodded. It was true. She had earned top grades in everything else.

"However," Lieutenant Ziira continued, fixing her with a stern glare, "you are in serious danger of failing my course. You received a a minimal pass on the last two exams, and failed the practical portion of the midterm. If you don't get an "A" on this project, I'm afraid I'll have to fail you. Do you understand?"

Syd stared at the floor. "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

Syd saluted and hurried from the classroom. She took a deep, unsteady breath and forced back heavy tears that rose to her eyes. No one, not even an instructor, was going to see Sydney Drew cry.

"Isn't it exciting?" Bridge said, nearly bouncing with enthusiasm as they walked back to the dorms. "Once this year is over, we'll be promoted from the training division to real posts in the Academy. And then maybe we'll get assigned to an actual squad and one day become rangers..."

Sky's presence made Bridge nervous, which made him talk even more than usual. He had strange, warm feelings whenever Sky was around. When Sky was happy, Bridge was ecstatic. And when Sky was upset, Bridge couldn't help being sad. Most people would call that love, but Bridge called it his powers.

"Maybe," Sky replied. "I've heard the squads are really selective."

"Yeah, I guess," Bridge said and shrugged. "Well, if I don't get in, I'll do something else, you know? Or maybe I'll get another post in S.P.D., like in science or something. What'll you do?"

"If I don't get in?" Sky had never really thought about it. "I... I don't know."

Bridge smiled. "I'm sure you'll get in. You're the best in the class." And it was true.

"Yeah, he is."

Bridge nearly jumped out of his skin as Dru appeared beside them. Dru was handsome and popular, but Bridge's skin crawled every time he was near the other cadet and he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

Dru put a hand on Bridge's shoulder. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" Dru whispered in his ear.

"Uh... hi, Dru," Bridge stammered. He shivered and pulled away. "Um, no. I mean, yes. I'll just leave."

"I don't know why you bother with him," Dru said. "Just because he has powers, doesn't mean you have anything in common."

Sky shrugged. "He's not so bad. And besides, he's in my group for wilderness survival, just like that girl, Syd."

"Isn't she terrible at wilderness survival?" Dru gave a low whistle. "That's bad luck."

"It doesn't matter," Sky said. He put the assignment packet on his desk, next to the stack of homework for his other classes. "For a final, it doesn't seem that hard."

"Yeah," Dru agreed. "I'm sure you'll get an "A" and make it onto D-squad no problem."

Between homework, classes and training sessions, Bridge had little time to worry about his upcoming wilderness survival final. The days seemed to fly by, and before he knew it everyone was packed and it was time to leave. First there was the two hour flight north, then another three hours on a bus, driving through windy, narrow roads before arriving at base camp. Bridge was on the last bus of cadets to arrive.

Base camp was a hive of activity. Cadets and their instructors hurried from place to place, with bags scattered haphazardly on the ground. A few tents were already up, and Bridge recognized one of the other teachers talking animatedly to a bored-looking Lieutenant Ziira.

Beyond the camp clearing was a line of emerald-green pines which traced their way to the foothills, ending at the base of a mountain. The mountain towered over the landscape, with a white, jagged peak reaching into the high clouds.

Trying not to look too eager, Bridge slung his bag over his shoulder and wandered around the camp until he found Sky and Syd. Sky was sitting on top of his bag, reading the map. He looked up when Bridge arrived.

"Good, you're here. I think they're about to fly us out." Sky handed the map to Bridge, along with a waterproof pen and notebook. "I picked up the map and your journal. You're the best at reading maps, so you can be our navigator."

Bridge nodded and tucked the map away in his pocket. Syd stood a short distance apart from them both, her coat pulled tightly around her. She shivered as a cold wind blew off the mountain.

"Are you okay?" Bridge asked.

"I'll be better once this is over," she smiled half-heartedly. "I have to say, I'm kind of nervous about this."

"It won't be that bad," Bridge said. "It's just for a few days."

Syd gave him a doubtful look. "I don't know. Last time I had to take one of these practicals... "

"Attention, cadets!" An instructor tapped the loudspeaker, cutting off anything Syd was about to say. "Make sure you've collected your maps and journals! Double check to make sure you have everything - Group B-4, report to the helicopters!"

"We'd better get ready to go." Sky said and, sure enough, within a few minutes it was their turn.

"Group B-6!"

The three cadets shielding their eyes from the flying snow as the helicopter landed nearby. The pilot waved them on board, and soon they were flying over the mountain.

Syd stared out the window with a look of thinly concealed horror and watched miles upon miles of ice and trees pass by. She looked back at her teammates. Sky was watching her steadily.

Syd knew that look. It was the look people gave when they evaluated, judged and dismissed her. In any other place, at any other time, she would have confronted him. As several cadets had discovered, if words couldn't get her point across, a fist made from steel or cement would.

This time was different. This time, she looked away.

"This is it!" the pilot said. He gave them an encouraging thumbs up. "Good luck!" The three cadets saluted and jumped out of the helicopter. The sound of the whirring blades faded into silence, leaving them in a small clearing surrounded by wind-swept pines. The ground was coated with an icy crust of snow.

Bridge was the first to speak. "Okay, what now?"

"Well," Sky said, "we have five days to reach the rendezvous point. If we want to get a good grade on this project, we should get started right away."

"Okay," Bridge said. He unfolded the map and studied it for a moment. "According to the pilot, we are here." He took out a pen and marked the spot where they landed. "The rendezvous point is here." He pointed toward a gold star on the map, a good distance away.

"That's at least 30 miles," Syd observed, looking over his shoulder. "Probably more."

"That's less than 7 miles a day," Sky said. "It's totally manageable. We're on the south side of this mountain, right?"

Bridge wasn't sure. "I don't know. Yes, I think so. Maybe." He looked back at the map.

Sky sighed. "Look, we all want to get onto a squad, so we need a good grade in this class. I don't like it any more than you do, but I have the most experience in this sort of thing and the best grades in the course. So just follow my instructions we'll get through this fine."

"I thought this is as much about teamwork as completing the course," Bridge objected.

"Even teams have leaders," Sky said. "Besides, do either of you have a better idea of how to go about this?"

Bridge and Syd shook their heads.

"Okay, it's settled then." Sky said. "Bridge, which way is shortest?"

Bridge pointed at a shaded area on the map. "I think that if we follow this ridge, it'll be longer, but we'll avoid this rocky area, which is good because it seems steep and is probably difficult to walk over."

"Sounds like a plan. Syd?"

Syd sighed and started to walk. "Let's just get this over with."

They stopped walking when the sun set, taking cover behind a clump of forlorn aspen trees. The tents were soon assembled and the three cadets sat around the campfire stoves. Bridge tore open a standard-issue packet of food and emptied the green flakes into a pot of boiling water. After letting it sit for few minutes, he scooped it out into cups, handing one to each of his teammates.

Bridge poked at his own food before taking a tentative bite. He had to force himself to take a second. "This is pretty gross," Bridge commented. "You'd think they'd give us better food."

"It's because of all of the off-worlders," Syd said. "It's hard to find things that taste okay to everyone at the Academy. This is probably a delicacy to someone from Titan or something."

It was hard to believe this cup of mushy green stuff with orange flecks could be appetizing to anyone, but Bridge ate it anyways. Rinsing out his cup, he sat back down on the cold ground and stared up at the dizzying array of stars. Somewhere nearby there were a few sharp coyote yips, followed by a chorus of howls.

"I'm going to bed," Syd said suddenly. She entered her tent and zipped the flap behind her.

"She doesn't seem too happy to be out h… h…" Bridge sneezed, "here."

"Are you okay?" Sky looked genuinely concerned.

A tiny part of him hoped that at least a little of that concern was for him. 'No way,' Bridge thought. 'He's just worried about our grades - if I get sick it'll slow us down.'

"It's nothing," Bridge replied aloud. "I'm fine. It's probably allergies, anyhow. I've had them since I was a kid."

Sky studied his teammate. Although they were in the same training squadron and had several classes together, he actually knew very little about Bridge. He knew that Bridge was among the youngest in their class. He also had some kind of strange power, but no one seemed to know exactly what it was. Sky suspected it had something to do with the gloves he always wore. "Bridge… why did you join S.P.D.?"

Bridge shrugged. "It seemed like the thing to do at the time. My parents hated the idea, but I wanted to help people and make a difference. I was an only child and I really liked the idea of being part of something, you know?"

Bridge smiled brightly and Sky suddenly realized that the other cadet was kind of cute. He suppressed the thought immediately. Personal relationships between cadets, while common, were against regulations.

"Why did you enlist?" Bridge asked him.

"Same reasons, I guess," Sky said. Bridge waited, but he didn't elaborate further. "Anyways, we should go to sleep. We have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow." Sky retreated to the safety and solitude of his own tent. He couldn't let anything, no matter how small, get in the way of being promoted to a squad.

The next morning they got off to a slow start. Neither Bridge nor Syd were morning people and after a quick breakfast of dried fruits, it took nearly an hour to get everyone packed and ready to go.

The bright, sunny weather of the day before was gone, replaced with overcast grey skies and a sharp, damp wind. An apprehensive feeling began to grow deep in the pit of Bridge's stomach. 'It doesn't mean anything,' he told himself. 'It's just the weather.'

"I think we should try to at least get around this mountain by dark." Bridge said. He adjusted the map as he walked. "Then it looks like a straight shot to the end."

"Good," Syd said. As she spoke, the wind picked up again. "I am totally ready to be back home in my nice, warm, bed."

Sky gritted his teeth. "None of us are happy about being here, but you're the only one I hear complaining about it."

"Whatever," Syd said. "Not everyone is as used to roughing it as you, Sky."

"Look," Bridge interrupted, hoping to head off an argument, "let's just try to work together. I think…"

There was a sharp, resounding crack somewhere high above them. They looked up to see a white cloud of snow cascading quickly down the slope, crushing everything in its path.

Bridge could feel the roar of the avalanche in his chest. He ran blindly, the thin layer of ice slowing down his every step, making the ground slippery and dangerous. Behind him, Syd slipped and fell. Bridge turned back, but Sky was already pulling her to her feet. They ran as fast as they could, knowing their lives depended on it.

They were too slow, too late. The wall of snow hit them with tremendous force.

Bridge was falling, trapped in the grasp of unforgiving snow and ice. The avalanche crushed the breath out of him - he couldn't move, couldn't scream, as he was mercilessly pummeled from side to side. Remembering his training, Bridge tried to swim upward, toward the light.

He saw nothing, and heard only the terrifying roar of the avalanche. There was a disorienting sense of free fall and then he was flying through the air. He landed on his back. His head snapped back and slammed into something hard. Bridge blinked away dark spots as the avalanche ground to a slow, menacing halt beneath him. His legs were shaking, but he staggered to his feet. Standing up made his stomach lurch violently. He put his hand to the back of his head and it came away bloody.

"Sky?" Bridge shouted. He began to panic, sweating despite the cold. "Syd?" What if they were buried? He had lost all of his gear in the avalanche, and he would never be able to call for help or reach them in time. From higher up on the mountain, he heard an answering cry. It was so faint, he almost thought it was an echo. Then it came again.

"Bridge!" A tiny figure waved at him from further up the slope. The avalanche had uprooted trees and torn massive boulders from their resting places. Syd carefully picked her way through the debris, careful not to slip on unsteady rock. She still had her pack, and she didn't seem hurt at all.

"Are you okay?" Syd asked. He nodded and took a step, swayed and nearly fell. Syd caught him by his arm, holding him upright. "No, you're not." Before he could protest, she was already taking the first aid kit from her bag.

"Sit down," Syd ordered. She brandished the medical scissors at him when he tried to pull away. Bridge tried not to squirm as she clipped his hair and then dabbed the cut with stinging disinfectant. "Well, it doesn't look too bad."

Syd took a gauze pad and a long bandage from the first kit. "What's your name?" She wrapped the dressing around his head and tied the loose edges in a knot. "What day is it?"

"Bridge Carson. And it's Sunday," Bridge said crossly. His ears were ringing, and he already felt the beginnings of a splitting headache. "I'm fine!" A foreboding feeling grew stronger with each second. "We have to find Sky."

They walked along the edge of the avalanche field, shouting his name. Bridge spotted him first, a still figure sprawled next to a boulder. The avalanche had tossed Sky aside and continued its destructive path down the slope.

Sky slowly opened his eyes. "Syd? Bridge?" His words were slurred and indistinct. He closed his eyes again. The snow and the sky were bright - too bright - and the drifting snow stung his face. "What… what happened?"

"There was an avalanche," Syd said. "Don't try to move, you're hurt." Sky's leg was lying at an odd, unnatural angle. His breathing was labored and painful.

"How… how bad is it?" Sky asked.

Syd forced herself to take a deep, calming breath. "You'll be fine. I'm just going to check you, okay?" Sky nodded, and she ran her hands over his body, checking beneath him and under his coat for hidden injuries. Sky flinched as she pressed lightly on his ribs.

"Broken, or badly bruised at least," she told him. "And your leg is definitely broken, but I don't feel any other injuries." Sky raised his head to look at his leg, but she pushed him back down.

"What are we going to do?" Bridge whispered to Syd. Sky's pack, like his own, had been torn away by the avalanche. Their distress beacon was probably under a hundred feet of snow by now, along with most of their supplies.

"There's probably a cave in those cliffs." Syd pointed to a rocky outcropping, protruding from the side of the mountain a good distance away. "We could camp out there until they find us."

Bridge looked at Sky, and wondered if they could carry him the entire way. Maybe, if they shared his weight between them, maybe they would make it, but moving Sky could be dangerous. Broken ribs could shift and puncture a lung. There could be other injuries, internal ones, that Syd missed. And his leg…

'We'll have to splint it and hope for the best,' Bridge realized, but Syd was already a step ahead of him. She handed him a spare pair of pants.

"Here, tear this into strips," Syd said. "We'll use them to bind the splint." She unrolled her foam sleeping pad and folded it into the correct shape. Using her knife, she cut open his pants leg beneath the knee. At the point of the break, his leg was already beginning to bruise and swell, turning an alarming mixture of blood red and purple.

"Are - are you sure you can do this?" Bridge asked. The bone would need to be reset before they splinted it. This was advanced first aid, far beyond anything he felt comfortable doing.

"I got an "A" in first aid," Syd said. "I know what I'm doing."

Bridge hoped that was true, because Sky needed medical attention he wasn't likely to get for hours, even days. If Syd messed this up, then Sky could lose his leg and any hope of a career in S.P.D. along with it.

"Sky? I'm going to realign the fracture and splint your leg." Syd hesitated. "I'm sorry, but this will hurt. I'm going to count to three. One... two…" There was a horrible crack as Syd pulled the bone back into place. Bridge flinched and pulled away, sickened, as the echo of Sky's pain washed over him. Sky — always the strong, tough one — was crying silently, tears coursing down his cheeks.

The nausea returned with a vengeance. Bridge leaned over and concentrated on breathing, trying not to puke as Syd strapped the splint into place.

When it was finished, Bridge and Syd each took one of Sky's arms and lifted him as gently as possible. The weather was changing again, large snowflakes drifting slowly to the ground, gathering on their hats and coats. They had to reach the cliffs before anything else went wrong.

Sky woke slowly, to the awareness of biting cold and sharp, throbbing pain emanating from his leg. Fighting his way back to consciousness, he opened his eyes and stared up at a wall of grey rock.

'Where am I?' he wondered, disoriented. 'How did I get here?' Someone made a muffled sound of frustration nearby, and he turned his head toward the source. Bridge was struggling to light a fire, his head swathed in a bandage.

Bridge was hurt. How had that happened? He knew he should remember, but the memory remained just out of reach. Syd ducked into view, carrying an armful of branches. She looked over and noticed that he was awake.

"Hey, sleeping beauty," Syd said with a shaky smile. "How are you feeling?"

Sky winced as a wave of pain emanated from his leg. "I've been better," he admitted. "Where are we? What happened?"

Syd and Bridge shared a concerned look.

"Syd found us a cave," Bridge said. "There was an avalanche…"

That was when he remembered. He remembered tumbling endlessly down a shifting slope. And then, very dimly, as if from a dream, he remembered being found by his teammates. He remembered excruciating pain and then only darkness.

'They must have carried me here,' Sky realized. He wondered how long he'd been unconscious. Long enough for Bridge and Syd to cover the entrance with full, thick pine branches. Someone had covered him with a sleeping bag. The only sleeping bag, from their only remaining pack.

Sky remained silent for a moment, lost in thought. If they all stayed here, they might never be found and would certainly die. On the other hand, he doubted that he could sit up without assistance, and there was no way he could travel. "You two have to leave and find help," he finally decided.

"No," Syd snapped, horrified. "We're going to make it through together."

"I'm not going," Bridge said. "I won't leave you here to die. Who knows what might happen, an animal could come or there might be another avalanche…"

Sky sighed. "Think about it. We're talking survival here. I'd only slow the two of you down. The faster you find help, the better chances we all have."

"I'll go." Syd said. Bridge and Sky both stared at her. "I'll go find help. One of us has to go, and I'm the only one who isn't hurt. It has to be me."

Bridge nodded in agreement, but Sky wasn't ready to give up yet. "Syd, that doesn't make sense. You…"

Syd cut him off. "No, don't try to talk me out of it. I know I'm not the best at wilderness survival, but this is an emergency. We're supposed to rely on each other as a team. I can do this, Sky," Syd insisted. She wondered who she was trying to convince more, Sky or herself.

"But how will you know where to go?" Bridge asked. He had lost the map in the avalanche, along with everything else in his pack.

Syd thought for a second. "Well, we're on a mountain. If I keep going downhill, I should eventually find a river or something. And where there's water, there's settlements." She produced a book from her jacket. "I didn't lose my journal. I'll mark down landmarks as I go, so that when I find help, they'll know where to find you."

Bridge and Sky stared at her. Neither of them said anything, and she saw doubt in their eyes.

"Look," Syd said, a little insulted, "do either of you have a better idea?"

"No," Bridge said first. "I believe in you, Syd."

Sky wasn't willing to go that far. "Make… make sure you take enough food and supplies with you."

"But we only have one set of everything," Syd reminded him.

"Then you need to take most of it," Sky said, gritting out each word. Even speaking such a short sentence was exhausting.

"He's right," Bridge said. "Syd, you're our best chance for getting out of this, and you're going to need all the help you can get. Just leave us with the basics and take the rest."

"I'll be able to travel faster if I travel light." Syd sorted through the pack, separating their supplies into two piles. "You should keep my sleeping bag and what's left of the camp supplies." She handed Bridge her knife. "And you should take half the food."

"No," Bridge said. "You'll burn more calories traveling. You should take most of the food. We'll make do."

Syd hesitated before agreeing. "Okay, Bridge." She sealed back her much-lightened pack, trying to banish the horrible feeling that she would never see either of them again.

As the first hint of daylight began to illuminate the snow-covered ridge, Syd crawled out of her tent, feeling stiff, cold and hungry. She had walked as long as she dared the day before, but when the sun began to set and darkness set in, she set up camp next to a frozen stream. She slept uneasily, curled into a tight ball, with only her clothes for insulation. For the first time in her life, she was grateful for the fluffy, S.P.D. standard-issue winter parka. The coat might be a fashion disaster, but without it she might not have made it through the night.

Syd looked toward the cliffs where her two teammates were waiting, barely visible in the distance. She wondered how they were doing. Maybe Sky had been more badly injured than she thought. Maybe dangerous animals had come in the night. Maybe they were both already dead.

'No,' she told herself firmly. 'Sky and Bridge would never give up that easily. All of us will make it through this.' She never thought she would care so much about people she hardly knew. Maybe it was because, out here, they only had each other.

She found a patch of undisturbed snow and filled her water bag. She put the bag between her inner layers of clothing. It would melt as she walked, providing her with water as she traveled. She tried to travel in as straight a line as possible, marking down any unusual landmarks in her journal as she passed. She walked for hours with only the wind and the sound of her own breathing for company.

As the terrain became rockier and more perilous, she forced herself to focus only on the mountain beneath her feet. She couldn't afford to worry about Sky and Bridge - the only way she could help them now was by reaching civilization and contacting headquarters.

'I will do this,' Syd thought. The words became a mantra as she cautiously descended down the forest slopes. 'I will find help.'

'I have to.'

Bridge selected a small pine tree and set to work hacking at the young, slender boughs. The entire tree shook as he tugged free a long, full branch.

Yesterday, Syd had begun the work of building a winter shelter. Bridge watched, fascinated and a little envious of her powers, as Syd touched the knife and turned her hand into steel. She spent the next hour snapping large branches from trees and leaning them in front of the rock overhang. But now she was gone, and it was up to him to finish the barricade.

Bridge carefully arranged the last branch on top of the others and stepped back to admire his handiwork. Their shelter was now concealed by a pile of prickly, fragrant pine boughs. He had worked throughout the morning, taking frequent breaks. He had to pace himself: at these temperatures, sweat would freeze against his skin and make him even colder.

When he ducked back into the cave, Sky was still asleep... or unconscious. Maybe it was better that way. The other cadet was hurt worse than he let on. Even with his gloves, Bridge could feel it, a jagged, acrid residue of pain. Sky was trying his best to hide it, to be strong for them both. For him.

'I won't let you down,' Bridge promised silently. They needed more firewood, so he reluctantly left his injured teammate and trudged back into the forest. He couldn't afford to rest. Not now. Not when both of their lives depended on him.

First, there was a slicing pain. He tried his best to block it out, to sink back into the welcoming darkness, but it was relentless. Then came the cold. It crept between the gaps in his clothes, gnawed and pinched at the bare skin on his face. Sky bit back a groan and pried open his eyes. He felt an instinctive stab of fear when he realized he was alone in the shelter.

'Bridge can't be far,' he reasoned, and then felt guilty for his moment of doubt. Bridge was a good cadet. He wouldn't have left him, not after he promised to stay.

As he waited for Bridge to return, a tiny tickle began in the back of his throat and grew into a shaking cough. Sky turned his head to look longingly at their small mug of water. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the mug, brushing it with the tip of a finger. He bit his lip and stretched out a little further, but only succeeded in pushing it away. After a few minutes, footsteps crunched in the snow outside and Bridge ducked into the cave.

"You're awake!" Bridge said. The relief was audible in his voice. Sky realized that Bridge had been - and still was - genuinely afraid for him. He must look even more terrible than he felt.

"Don't worry." Sky managed to crack a smile, albeit a strained one. "I'm not ready to die on you yet."

"Don't ever," Bridge said soberly. He carefully helped Sky sit up and then handed him the mug of water. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Sky said. The sharp pain of yesterday had dulled to a throb that, with every pulse, threatened to blossom back into full-blown agony. His ribs ached but they, too, would heal with time. He figured that if he had a punctured lung, he would probably be dead by now.

"Are you hungry?" Bridge offered him a ration bar. "There's not much, but there's no point starving either." Sky slowly chewed and forced himself to only eat half. His stomach growled in protest.

"You should eat the rest of it," Bridge said. "You have to keep your strength up."

"Only if you eat something, too," Sky said. He correctly interpreted the look that flitted across Bridge's face. "You haven't eaten anything since Syd left, have you?"

"I wasn't hungry," Bridge protested.

"If you don't eat, you'll be too weak to help either of us," Sky pointed out.

"But..."

"Bridge, I'm serious." His voice hardened. "I won't let you sacrifice yourself for me."

Bridge obediently nibbled on a ration bar, but Sky wasn't fooled by his apparent compliance. He would keep a closer watch on Bridge from now on. The other cadet had a self-destructive streak that could be dangerous. Out here in the wilderness, it might even be deadly.

Syd saw it out of the corner of her eye, a blur of tan moving across the forest. Maybe the cold had made her sluggish, or her mind was dulled by fatigue, but it took her a long second to realize what it was.

A mountain lion. Even from this distance, the lithe body and the smooth trot were unmistakable. The huge cat turned its head in her direction and Syd froze. Ever-so-slowly, always keeping her eyes on the lion, she backed away until it disappeared out of sight.

She ran. The trees passed in a blur. Sharp branches whipped at her, stinging her face. The tree line ended suddenly and Syd teetered at the edge of a steep slope. Before she could steady herself, the ground crumbled out from beneath her feet. Syd tumbled down the slope, screaming as she fell. A small avalanche of snow and rocks followed her down, covering her with a layer of debris.

She rolled several times before coming to a stop. She lay there for a long moment, gulping back tears, her pulse thundering. Bruised and a little dazed, she stumbled to her feet. She looked to the top of the slope, but there was no sign of the lion. It probably wandered off in search of easier prey… or found another way down. She snapped a sturdy branch from a tree. It wasn't much of a weapon, but anything was better than facing down a lion unarmed.

After that, Syd set a more cautious pace through the woods. How could she have been so stupid? Awareness of your surroundings was one of the first lessons they had learned at the Academy. This time, she had been lucky, but next time...

'No,' Syd decided. 'There won't be a next time.' She was an S.P.D. cadet. No matter what dangers lay ahead, she would face them with a clear head.

The huge, gnarled pine trunk was snapped in nearly half, perhaps by a winter storm or lightning strike from years past. The rest of the tree lay across the ground, the brittle wood pocketed with holes from insects. Bridge crouched down and looked beneath the underside of tree. The huge trunk had shielded some of the branches from the wet snow. He snapped off as many spindly branches as he could reach and gathered them into a pile.

As he worked, he felt a pricking sensation at the back of his neck, like he was being watched. More than once, he spun around and scanned the trees behind him, looking for the intruder. Then the feeling would vanish.

'You're going crazy. You're imagining things. There's nothing out there,' Bridge told himself, but the sense of uneasiness remained. He returned to the shelter and deposited an armful of sticks on the pile. He wanted to gather as much wood as possible before the sun set. A fire, even a small one, would keep them warm throughout the night.

He returned to the forest. This time, he selected a smaller tree and set to work hacking at the young, slender boughs. The entire tree shook as he tugged free a long branch thick with pine needles. When he looked up, a pair of fierce gold eyes was staring at him from between the trees. It was a coyote, or maybe even a small wolf. The animal had a shaggy gray coat with red markings on its ears and legs. Keeping his eyes trained on the coyote, he knelt down and picked up a stick.

"Get lost!" Bridge shouted and brandished the stick. The coyote gave him an unimpressed look before loping away back into the forest. Coyotes and wolves hunted in packs, Bridge suddenly remembered. Suddenly afraid for Sky, he dashed back to the shelter. He skidded to a stop in front of the entrance and ducked inside, his heart thundering in his ears.

Sky gazed at him quizzically. "What's wrong?"

Bridge doubled over, panting from exertion. "You're okay! I mean… nothing's wrong. I just got worried."

"I'm fine," Sky said, confused. "Are you sure..."

"Yes," Bridge said. He had always been a terrible liar. "It was nothing, just a stupid feeling I had."

Bridge barely slept that night. Every animal cry, however distant, was enough to wake him. He fed the fire a steady diet of twigs, catching a few moments' sleep when he could. His dreams were haunted by hungry, golden eyes.

After his encounter with the mystery animal, Bridge kept the shelter within sight at all times. He picked a long, sturdy stick from the wood pile and set about whittling it to a sharp point. When it was finished, he burned the tip in the coals to harden it.

Bridge stared at the blackened point and wondered how Syd was doing. He wondered if the other teams had already made it to the rendezvous point. Their group was definitely going to get a failing grade. He was tired and it took a minute for him to realize how ridiculous that was, worrying about their grade at a time like this. In fact, he would give anything to have Lieutenant Ziira here right now, berating them for their stupidity and incompetence and brandishing their grade sheet. She would know what to do. She would know how to help Sky.

Sky had sunk into a kind of lethargy. He spoke less and less. Before he would have protested Bridge's help; now, he accepted it in silence. Bridge sensed that, underlying it all, was a deep embarrassment at being helpless. Sky prided himself on being independent and able to take care of himself. Now he had to rely on Bridge to care for his injuries, to bring him food, and even to help him outside to use the bathroom.

"Sky," Bridge said, once the silence had become unbearable. "I don't know if I can handle this alone."

"You're not alone," Sky said, without looking at him. "We were all trained in what to do in situations like this."

"Yeah, but I never thought that something like this would actually happen," Bridge said. "At S.P.D. we prepare for all kinds of things - fires, robberies, kidnappings, you name it. But you never think it'll happen to you, you know?" He put his head in his hands. The gash in his scalp had started to heal, but the headaches came and went. They started behind his eyes, and spread until his entire head throbbed. Kat once told him that the human brain had no nerves and couldn't feel pain. Whoever came up with that had never had a head injury.

Sky answered with a question of his own. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"You could have left with Syd, but you stayed," Sky said and scowled. Bridge's behavior didn't make sense. It had bothered him for days. "You didn't have to do that."

"I couldn't leave you here alone. I would have done the same for anybody," Bridge pointed out. "I mean, that's our job, right?"

Sky said nothing.

Bridge sighed and gave in. "You're right. I don't want this to be about duty," he admitted. "I want us to be friends."

Friends? Sky hadn't even considered that. "I don't think I'd be a very good friend," he said tentatively, "not just to you, to anybody."

"But… you're friends with Dru."

Sky shifted uncomfortably. "I never said I was a good one. I came to the Academy to be a ranger, not to make friends. Friends just get in your way."

Bridge wondered who, in the past, had hurt Sky so badly. "You don't really believe that. Friends make you strong, and if you let me," he said, his confidence growing, "I'll prove it to you."

The trees thinned until Syd stood on a barren stretch of silt and gray rock. A sharp wind blew the snow across the ground, creating drifts and shifting waves. Above the high, steep slope she could see a line of blue-white ice.

'Glaciers often lead out of the mountains,' Syd remembered from their textbook. She returned to the tree line and skirted the edge of the glacier until she reached a rocky cliff, a hundred foot plunge of snow and razor-sharp ice. Below was a majestic view of green treetops and the glacier, snaking its way down out of the mountains into the valleys beyond.

There was no way down that she could see. She would have to cross the glacier. Syd climbed the rocky slope one precarious handful at a time. Huge boulders lined the side of the glacier, carved out of the ground by millions of years of slow-moving, powerful ice. She scrambled over the last rock and was nearly blinded by the white expanse in front of her.

Syd took her first, cautious step out onto the glacier, probing ahead of her with the stick. She also remembered something else from the textbook. Glaciers were perilous, full of crevasses. She had no rope and no one to catch her if she fell.

'I'll just have to be careful, then,' she thought. She braced herself and took another step.

A rabbit with a dappled coat ran across his path. Bridge thought about how delicious that rabbit would be, roasted on a skewer over the fire. Their rations were dwindling quickly and hunger pangs twisted his stomach. He had seen squirrels leaping between the high tree limbs, but he had no idea how to trap them. Catching a bird or a rabbit seemed like an equally daunting task.

Bridge dug his knife into the wide, imposing trunk of a nearby forest pine. Golden sap oozed from the hole. It looked a bit like honey, or maybe even maple syrup. Bridge tentatively scooped up a bit with his fingers and put it in his mouth. The sap was gummy and bitter, and tasted like a cleaning product. He spit it out on the snow and wished he had paid more attention in class.

He couldn't remember how to distinguish different species of pines from each other. Some, he knew, were more edible than others. Their inner barks were supposed to be tough, but very nutritious. However, it would take good deal of strength to cut away the tough outer layer. He didn't know how much strength he had to spare.

Discouraged, Bridge returned to gathering wood. As he reached for a branch, the disconcerting feeling of being watched returned. The coyote from the other day had returned and, as he watched, another one trotted into view. The two animals stood together, following his every movement with their eyes.

Bridge pulled off his glove and scanned the animals. It felt different using his powers on animals instead of people, but what the coyotes lacked in the complexity of their emotions, they made up in intensity.

Hunger.

These animals were starving. They would never have come so close to him otherwise. The coyotes were waiting, biding their time until he was too weak to fight them off.

Fear.

They wouldn't attack now, not during the day. Their natural fear of humans held them back. But they still longed to attack, to rip into his flesh and tear...

Bridge shuddered and replaced his glove. He quickly finished gathering wood and retreated back to the shelter. He crouched on the ground and tested the heft and weight of his spear, stabbing it through the air at an imagined enemy. He might be hungry, tired and injured, but if those coyotes thought he would be easy prey, they were in for a big surprise.

The first sign of danger was the dimpled surface of the snow. Syd probed with her stick and the entire bank collapsed, plummeting into a wide, deep crack in the ice. For a gut-wrenching moment she felt her feet shift and slide before steadying.

The crevasse was far too wide to safely jump. She followed it until she reached a narrow arch of ice and piled snow crossing the gap. The ice bridge seemed firm enough at the edge, but there was no way of knowing if it would support her weight across the middle.

Syd made sure her pack was secure and sunk to her hands and knees. Then slowly, painstakingly, she slid out onto the bridge. At the apex, the ice creaked and groaned under her weight and Syd froze. She inched toward the other bank, taking care to distribute her weigh as evenly as possible until she reached solid ice. On the other side, Syd climbed to her feet and squinted against the blinding glare. In the distance stretched a clear field of ice and, in the distance, a line of green, the edge of the glacier at last.

Bridge added a branch to the fire, and it sputtered for several painful minutes. The nights were the worst. They seemed to go on forever. Newtech city was never this cold, or this dark. The city was always alive and awake. He jumped as a howl came from the edge of the forest. A few seconds later, there was an answering cry. Bridge fumbled for the spear and gripped it tightly. He strained his eyes against the night, but saw nothing.

The howl came again, closer this time. A gray, snarling streak leaped out of the darkness, and Bridge swung without thinking. The coyote yelped and tumbled into the fire, scattering red coals across the ground. There was a horrible smell of burning fur and flesh and then something slammed into him, hard enough to knock him off his feet. The spear clattered to the ground.

The second coyote lunged for his throat and Bridge threw up an arm to shield himself. Sharp teeth tore through his coat and sweater, sinking deep into his skin. With his other hand, he blindly reached for something, anything, to defend himself with. His fingers brushed against the spear. Bridge reflexively jerked the spear upward as the coyote leaped forward again. The force of the impact wrenched it from his hands. The coyote twitched and collapsed at his feet, the spear embedded in its eye.

Bridge felt it die, felt the last beat of its heart, the last rattling breath as if it was his own. There was no pain; it had all happened so fast. Bridge knelt next to the fallen coyote and cried. He felt empty and lost, but Sky's frantic shouting reminded him that he had to keep it together.

"Bridge? Bridge, answer me!"

"I'm okay," Bridge shouted back. He was shaking, trembling. Even his voice was shaking. His legs barely held him as he stumbled back into the shelter. His thoughts were slow and disjointed. "Are you… did they… ?" but Sky seemed unhurt, only scared.

"What happened?" Sky asked. "I heard fighting, but I couldn't see anything."

"There were coyotes. I killed one. I… I didn't mean to. I just wanted to scare it away." He was rambling, and he knew it, but somehow he couldn't stop himself. "The other one ran… I don't know where it went. It was hurt."

Sky pushed himself up on his elbows. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't have a choice — if you hadn't fought them off, they might have killed us both."

Bridge shook his head mutely. Sky's words made sense, but he couldn't bring himself to believe them. There must have been some other way. "I didn't want to kill it," he repeated brokenly. He suddenly felt faint and closed his eyes.

"I know," Sky replied, but Bridge knew he didn't understand. No one ever would. That was the curse of his powers. "Are you hurt?"

"My arm. It… it bit me." His thermal sweater was sticky and wet. The wound hadn't hurt before, but now it throbbed and ached. He forced himself to wriggle his fingers, testing the muscles and nerves. "I don't think it's too bad. I'll clean it in the morning."

He felt, rather than saw, Sky shake his head.

"We should at least bandage it. It won't be perfect, but I can do it by feel."

Bridge fumbled around in the dark until he found the first aid kit. He opened the first aid kit and cast around until he felt something soft and round. He handed the bandages to Sky and then slowly, painfully, shrugged out of his coat. Bridge hesitantly extended his arm. He forced himself not to pull away when he felt a light touch.

"I'll just bandage over the sweater," Sky said. "It'll be easier that way." He wrapped the injured arm, at times unraveling a section and repeating his work. "There, all done."

"Thanks." Bridge tested the bandage and it held.

"Don't mention it," Sky said. He paused. "That's what friends are for, right?"

Bridge didn't dare leave the dead coyote near the shelter, not even for a night. The corpse might attract larger, more dangerous predators. He gripped it by the leg and dragged it, step by leaden step, into the forest. When he had walked as far as he dared, he left the ill-fated animal in the snow.

Bridge retraced his steps and set about building another fire. A few coals still burned faintly in the center of the fire pit. He added a few small sticks, covered it with his hands and blew. The coals glowed brighter and brighter and then a tiny, flickering flame appeared.

Syd's hands were clumsy as she struggled to pack her tent. Frustrated, she tore off a glove and froze when she saw her hand. Her fingertips were faintly blue and waxy. They had been numb and painful before, but now she felt nothing at all.

Panic rose in her chest. She had heard horror stories about explorers and hikers who, trapped in the cold for too long, had lost their fingers and even their hands. If she didn't receive treatment soon, her fingers would blister and then turn black.

An idea suddenly occurred to her. Skin and tissue were weak against cold, but metal or plastic could withstand even the harshest weather. She took a deep, wavering breath and touched the fingers of her right hand to the plastic zipper pull of her coat.

Syd had always thought the change was instantaneous. She was wrong. The pain was overwhelming. It began at her fingertips and crept toward her wrist until her entire hand was on fire. That second stretched on as damaged nerves twisted and stretched into their new form. A shaky sob escaped her throat.

She had to do the other hand. The thought was almost unbearable, but it had to happen now. She reached out with her other hand. When it was done, both hands were made of seamless, matte plastic. There were no signs of frostbite. She broke camp as soon as feeling returned to her fingertips. Time was fleeting, and she had already lost precious minutes of daylight.

Slowly, carefully, Bridge unwrapped the bandage and rolled up his sweater sleeve. The fabric stuck to the wound, and it began to bleed again as he peeled away fresh scabs. A half-moon curve of red and black punctures stood out against his skin, forming a dark, ugly bruise beneath the bite. The edges of the bite were red and swollen. Bridge pressed tightly packed handfuls of snow against his arm until his skin tingled and went numb from cold.

"I'm ready," Bridge said, even though he knew he never would be. "Let's do this, before…" Before the numbness wears off, he wanted to say. Before he lost his nerve. Sky paused, like he wanted to say something.

"No," Bridge said. "Just finish it. I'll be okay." He looked away. He had never been squeamish, but now he felt dizzy and nauseous at the sight of his own blood. A whimper escaped from between his clenched teeth as Sky bent to cleaning the wound. Bridge felt a pang of shame at his weakness. A real cadet, a cadet like Sky, would have been endured in silence.

Syd crouched on the ground and ran her fingers through the snow. Beneath the new, clean snow was a layer of gray-white ash and fragments of blackened wood. People had been here, and recently. Maybe even one of the other groups from their class. Syd cupped her hands around her mouth, took a deep breath and shouted.

"Is anybody out here? Hello?" She waited a few seconds and then tried again. There was no response. Syd heaved a sigh and her breath hung on the icy air. The campers were gone, and any footsteps had long since been erased by the wind.

Syd dug the journal from her bag and marked down the abandoned campsite on her rough map. Then she searched the campsite for anything useful that might have been left behind, scuffing with her feet to clear the snow. She found nothing but a scrap of aluminum foil, too small to use even as a signal mirror.

Where had the campers gone? Syd circled the edge of the clearing and searched for a trail. She didn't expect to find one, and that was why she almost missed it — a small, narrow hiking path that skirted the campsite before winding away between the trees.

The wind came off the mountain in short, powerful gusts. One moment, the forest was motionless and calm, and the next it was filled with whirlwinds of stinging, blinding snow. Somehow, Sky sensed that this was only the beginning, the front of a massive storm.

He had spent the day shaving small kindling pieces from larger branches. It was slow, tedious work, but it was better than boredom. He had spent too much time dwelling on their situation already, and Bridge needed his help. Sky knew how dangerous animal bites could be. The punctures in Bridge's arm were deep and already showed signs of infection. They should never have waited so long to treat the injury. Sky tried to get him to rest, but Bridge stubbornly refused. They needed more wood, Bridge pointed out, and he had to gather more snow for water.

It was a hopeless task. Bridge could no longer carry the heavy, slow-burning logs that would sustain a fire through the night, much less break them down into smaller pieces. The branches that remained would burn fast and hot. When the sun began to set, Bridge gathered the kindling into a small pile. He fumbled with the matches until a flame flickered to life, only to be extinguished by a gust of wind. Bridge cursed under his breath and reached for another match.

"Bridge, stop," Sky said, after the third failed attempt. "It's too windy. We have to stay warm and save energy."

"But... we don't have a fire."

"It doesn't matter." It was so obvious, Sky wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. "We can share the sleeping bag."

Bridge flinched as if he had been struck. "I can't."

"Why not?" Sky asked, puzzled. What could possibly be holding Bridge back? "Both of us will fit. If we huddle together, we'll stay warm."

"That's not it," Bridge said. "My powers..."

Sky had forgotten about that. He had never seen Bridge without his gloves, so there must be a good reason he wore them. "I won't hurt you," he ventured, suddenly unsure what to say.

"I'm an empath," Bridge said. His voice wavered. "I can feel what you feel. So... you will."

An empath. No wonder Bridge had been so evasive about his powers back at the Academy. The other cadets, especially the humans, were already afraid of his force fields and Syd's form-shifting. If they found out they were serving with a mind-reader, there was no telling what they'd do.

'Bridge hasn't changed,' he reminded himself, but Bridge's powers scared him. He wasn't ready to be that close to anybody, and he didn't know if he ever would be. And Bridge knew it, too, because the other cadet gave him a knowing, sad smile.

"If I touch you, I'll know your thoughts, your feelings," Bridge said. "I can't do that to you." He looked away. "I won't."

Sky thought back to all the people who had feared and rejected him because of his powers. He knew how much it hurt to be different. "Bridge, it's okay." Now that he had made his decision, the words came easier than he expected. "I trust you."

Bridge was momentarily stunned into silence. "You do?"

"I do," Sky said. It wasn't a lie. It couldn't be, not to Bridge. "You saved my life. Twice, probably." Maybe he owed Bridge, but it was more than duty. He wanted to do this, but Bridge still hesitated. "Please?" he added.

Maybe that was what Bridge needed to hear, because he shrugged out of his coat and slid into the sleeping bag. This close, Sky could feel every breath, every shiver from the other cadet. At first, Bridge was tense and stiff, but soon he relaxed into the warmth.

Bridge mumbled something indistinct. It was between a whisper and a sigh, and the words were drowned out by the wind.

"What?" Sky whispered back, but there was no answer. Bridge was already asleep.

Faded images and feelings floated through his half-conscious mind. He saw the terraformed valleys and cool beaches of the Martian surface, felt the cool alien wind on his face. He reached down and touched the red and orange grass. His hand was small, a child's hand. The blades were sharp and smooth, and the tan sky seemed to go on forever.

He was warm and tired, and there was someone lying next to him. Bridge jerked away, reflexively, and tried to remember where — and who — he was.

He had never been to Mars.

Those were Sky's memories, Sky's dreams. Bridge had almost forgotten what it felt like to share the thoughts and intense feelings of another person. There were accidental touches, people who brushed against him in the hallways or the crowded dorm. Those unwanted psychic impressions were fleeting and uncomfortable. But this was different, because Sky trusted him. Sky trusted him with his secrets and vulnerabilities, trusted him to keep them safe.

Almost reluctantly, he disentangled himself from Sky. His arm was on fire. He thought the pain would fade over time, but it hurt worse than ever. Bridge tried to stand up but his head spun and he sunk back to the ground.

"Bridge?" Sky asked, sleepily.

"It's fine," Bridge said. He tried to hide his weakness. He reached for the mug of water, only to find that the remaining portion had frozen into a thin, icy crust. "I'm just going out to get some water."

He staggered from the cave, searching for the nearest path of fresh snow. His stomach heaved in painful waves. Something flashed in his eyes, a glint of sliver. Bridge looked up and high in the sky, hovering above the trees, was the faint shape of a helicopter. He waved his hands but they remained in the distance, traveling in a line toward the mountain.

'They'll never see me from here,' Bridge realized. He dashed through the forest, adrenaline surging through his body. He tripped over a log and crashed to the ground. Bridge picked himself up and kept running. He burst out of the trees into a clearing, but the helicopter was already fading into the distance.

Bridge bent over, gasping for air. His pulse pounded in his ears and he took a shaky, shallow breath. His next breath caught is his throat. Everything went fuzzy and then the icy, glittering ground came up to meet him.

Bridge had been gone for a long time. Too long, Sky realized, as the hours passed and Bridge still did not return. He tried calling out, but there was no answer, the sound of his cries dampened by the snow.

Sky looked over at the wood pile. A few of the branches were long enough to use as crude crutches. Bridge had intended to use them as cover for the front of the cave, but later realized they were too short. Sky dragged himself, inch by painful inch, across the cave. He chose one branch and carefully straightened, testing its strength, before selecting another.

Sky hobbled out of the shelter. A line of footsteps trailed into the distance, leading away from the camp into the thick, crusty snow. Had something chased Bridge? Sky looked around warily but saw no other footsteps, no signs of pursuit. He took several breaks as he followed the trail. He didn't dare stop for long. Dense, gray clouds were gathering on the horizon.

It had been too windy last night to set up the tent. Instead, she had taken shelter beneath a fallen tree. Syd had spent the long night shivering and miserable, but at least her hands no longer hurt. She brushed snow and dead pine needles from her coat, picked up her pack and trudged back to the path.

She knew better than to wander too far. At one point yesterday, after thirty minutes of retracing her steps and searching for the path, Syd had begun to doubt that there ever was a trail. And then the wind came. It shoved her from side to side, threatening to tear her off the path.

A storm was coming — and it was going to be a big one.

Syd rubbed her arms and legs. Every muscle was tensed and painful, but at least the constant shivering had stopped. She felt a little warmer than before, but with the warmth came a creeping lethargy. Even the snow began to look pillowy, soft and inviting. She could lie down, right here, and close her eyes, just for a moment...

'No,' Syd told herself, shaking off the haze. 'I have to keep moving.' As long as she kept moving, she would stay alive. She had to find help before the storm came. Bridge and Sky couldn't afford to spend any more time in the wilderness, and neither could she.

Sky saw a bright flash of color against the snow. He recognized it with a shock that nearly froze him in his tracks. It was Bridge's coat. He limped as fast as he could to his teammate. For one awful moment, he thought Bridge was dead, but then he saw the rise and fall of his chest.

"Come on, Bridge," Sky urged. He nudged him with his foot and heard a faint groan. "You have to get up. We have to get back to the cave." This time, there was no response.

Sky lowered his voice in a rough imitation of Commander Cruger. "Get up, cadet! That's an order!" He felt a surge of relief as Bridge stirred and then struggled to his feet.

The storm hit all at once, raging like a wild beast outside of their shelter. More than once, Sky saw the branches that sheltered them lift into the air in response to a violent gust of wind before settling. A cold pit of fear grew in his stomach. He had been afraid in the avalanche and even more afraid when he woke to pain and solitude in the cave. Fear was a constant gnawing companion out here, but this was different.

Bridge was burning with fever. The infection had spread quickly. Red streaks traced up his arm, all the way to his shoulder. Sometimes Bridge would speak or cry out in his delirium, and Sky would catch snatches of words and names, some that he recognized and some that he didn't.

They had barely made it back to the cave. Bridge had obeyed his commands on instinct and training, only to collapse as soon as they arrived. Sky brushed a hand against his forehead and Bridge opened his eyes.

"Sky..."

"I'm here," Sky said. He tried to hide the strain in his voice. The last thing Bridge needed was to worry about him as well.

"Don't leave," Bridge begged and his eyes fluttered shut. "Please..."

Bridge was shivering despite the fever, and Sky hugged him closer, sharing what little warmth they had between them. "I won't leave you," he said. He hoped that Bridge, on some level, could hear him. "I promise."

Tiny snowflakes stung her face and froze in her eyelashes. Time lost meaning, swallowed by the storm. There was only the forest and the howling winds.

'Sky... Bridge... I can't let them down,' Syd's thoughts came slowly, sluggishly. Her breaths were forced and ragged. A light flickered in the distance, drawing her closer, like a moth to flame. The light widened, and she realized it was a window. A fire glowed from within a rustic cabin. She took a step up to the wooden porch and her legs gave out. She crawled the last few feet and pounded on the door. "Help! Please…"

She tried to shout, but it came out as a hoarse whisper. The door opened suddenly, and then people were kneeling over her, talking to her, but somehow she couldn't make out the words.

"Journal... map..." Each word required enormous effort. "My friends…" Everything went gray and then black. Syd surrendered to the warm and welcoming darkness.

Voices, some close and some distant, were shouting, calling their names. Sky forced himself back to consciousness. Someone was shaking him. He squinted as a bright light shone in his face. A woman in a bright orange uniform tried to pull Bridge away, but Sky instinctively clutched him closer.

"It's okay," she told him, clasping his shoulder with a firm hand. "We're going to help him. We have to get you both out of here before the next storm front hits."

Understanding came slowly. Syd must have found help, Sky realized. He loosened his grip and watched three people carry Bridge outside and strap him onto a stretcher. Then it was his turn. He was lifted into the waiting helicopter. Sky caught one last glimpse of the mountain before the helicopter banked away.

He looked over at Bridge. From the grim expressions of their rescue crew, Sky knew he was in bad shape. Open your eyes, he silently urged, but Bridge remained pale and motionless.

"We made it," Sky told him. Bridge couldn't die. Not now. Not when help had finally arrived. Fate couldn't be that cruel. "You're going to live and we're going to be rangers, together.'

"... And finally, Cadets Sydney Drew, Bridge Carson and Sky Tate."

Every cadet in the academy watched as Sky, Bridge and Syd walked up to the stage. Sky looked out over the neat rows of his classmates. Dru winked at him from the crowd and gave a thumbs up before smoothing his face into an expression of bored disinterest.

Sky glanced over at Syd. Syd sniffled back tears of joy as Cruger fasted the formal rank insignia of D-squad to her uniform. Kat said something to her, too quiet for Sky to hear, but a smile flashed across her face. Next, Cruger moved on to Bridge.

Bridge had spent weeks in the infirmary. The infection from the bite was serious enough that, for the first few days, nobody knew whether he would live. Between the infection and the concussion, his recovery was slow. A rumor had circulated that Bridge would be held back for missing too many assignments, and Sky had decided, right then and there, that nothing would stop Bridge from graduating with the rest of their class.

He discovered that he enjoyed Bridge's company. Bridge was so optimistic and cheerful, even when ill, that nobody could remain taciturn around him for long. He helped Bridge with his make-up homework and, in return, Bridge stopped him from dwelling on his broken leg. Sky ate more toast and butter in those weeks than he had in his entire life. He ignored the whispers of the other cadets, shrugged away Dru's prying questions. He didn't want to talk about what happened on the mountain to anyone else. It was still too close, too painful and too confusing.

The Commander stopped in front of him. "Cadet Tate, your father would be very proud of you today," Cruger said.

Sky lifted his chin proudly and saluted. The insignia felt like it belonged on his shoulder. "Thank you, sir."

Cruger nodded, his eyes twinkling, and returned the gesture before turning to the crowd. "For courage and bravery, and extraordinary dedication to their teammates, I graduate Cadets Drew, Carson and Tate with honors and promote them to D-squad."

The entire Academy erupted in cheers and applause.

Sky picked up the last item on his desk. His dad smiled up him from the picture, alongside a younger version of himself. He still had a long way to go until he reached A-squad, but one day…

Someone knocked on the door. Sky placed the picture in a box just as Bridge entered the room.

"Want some help?"

Sky hoisted the box. "I can handle this one. But if you could take the other one..."

"Sure," Bridge said. He picked up the second box and they walked together to their new dorm room. Bridge had already begun to unpack, and his side of the room was a mess of piled uniforms and half-finished gadgets.

Bridge slowly set down the box. He fought back his anxiety and turned to face his new roommate.

"Sky, there's something I need to tell you," Bridge said, but then he hesitated. What if Sky hated him, once he knew? He would have to resign from D-squad, and beg Kat to transfer him to science. There would be a lot of uncomfortable questions.

"Bridge, it's okay." Sky interrupted his racing thoughts. "I already know."

"You know?" Bridge repeated dumbly. "How... ?"

"In the cave," Sky said. "You were fading in and out by then. You said a lot of things."

Bridge flushed in embarrassment. Sky had known about his feelings all along! "Why... why didn't you say anything?"

"Fraternization between cadets is against regulations," Sky said. Anyone else, anyone but Bridge, would have missed the slight waver in his voice. "But..."

"But?" Bridge asked, a glimmer of hope rising in his heart.

Sky gave him a slight smile. It was a smile of shared secrets and new possibilities. "But maybe, someday."