Note: this is a work of fiction, with all the usual stuff about copyright and permission. It’s also a work in progress and a way to develop my knowledge of the english language. So feel free to correct, debate, laugh, ask about it in the comments. Help appreciated.
You may find the index here.
Now you know that Howard managed to get back on our planet.
What you still do not know is that he returned to Zeranta as soon as possible, with as many useful stuff he could transport with him. You see, for him there is very little left on our planet. His family was already gone and with his “death” every tie with friends and comrades in the US Army was gone too.
From Ulan Bator he sended a bunch of letters. Each one with a date and a set of coordinates. That explains why I’m here, on the edge of a cliff somewhere in Uzbekistan. My backpack is loaded with medicines, with a nice bottle of 25-years old scotch whiskey as a plus. I have a couple of Beretta ninety-two and two hundred bullets, that should be enough to guarantee my personal safety until I will get the first opportunity to see sunlight.
I don’t know what the others will do, if we will all meet on Zeranta or not. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to keep my mental sanity when the time of transformation will come.
What I know is that I’m ready to start another life there and even a little choice to reach for the stars is more than enough to keep me going. I’m typing this few notes on a social network using a satellite link, time will tell if anybody will try to follow me.
Just look out for all those reports about strange blue lightings, about missing people or curious looking blond people that come out from nowhere.
There’s a way to calculate where and when it will happen again.
A way to find your personal ticket to Zeranta.