The Loss We All Must Face

Things change. Often with some warning to prepare one for that change. An employee puts in a two week notice so their employer can begin looking for a replacement. A student applies for colleges with enough time for their parents to begin planning to move their student to dorms if they are going out of state.

But the loss of a person, no matter how much time is given, will always be difficult. Two months or two years. The loss can rattle someone deep. To the bone. And in two minutes, Hunter's world broke.

The flight home was quiet. He had called for his gear to be picked up by an armorer at the airport to free him up. The summary report was completed with a one sided story in a new format. Hanson was the one who had a strong eye for detail and organization. It was submitted as closed with a recommendation for follow up on the suspicious radio signals. The local government created a story about a sinkhole that had finally collapsed after years of being eroded away by the water from the Pripyat river. No more radiation was released in the collapse so the area remained unchanged.

Officially, two contractors entered the area with the purpose to search for and eliminate the cause of the radio signals while investigating the unusual movement in the nearby forest. The source was reported as a den of unidentified but hostile creatures that were referred to as ghouls. A byproduct of the radiation in the area caused by their brains swelling to unusual size resulting in animalistic behavior. The original source of these ghouls is unknown.

One of the members of the two contractor team was extracted while the other stayed to ensure the destination of previously placed explosives to cave in a discovered nest. The contractors official status is "missing" as of this moment.

To no one's surprise, Hunter took the week to recuperate with the plan to return Monday morning. Monday came but no one saw him come in. His office was dark with the door still open. Hanson's office remained untouched as the news was not distributed to the office.

Tuesday saw Hunter come in through the main entrance. He was cleaned up, dressed as usual, but rather quiet. A nod here and there but he made a direct line to his office. Juliet noticed the door to his office was closed. With a knock, she opened the door to find the lights still off. Even the computer monitor was black.

The office smelled! She could spot on his desk that the bottle that was opened was one of his prized ones he kept in his office for special occasions. It had never been opened and was never meant to be opened until needed. "Hunter, can we talk?" She didn't get an answer.

She shut the door behind her as she entered. "Hunter, I need to talk to you." One piece of paper fluttered to his desk just within his eyesight. It was the note that he had written before they left. "You need to know that this hurt me. You should have told me. I was worried sick!" Her words were choked in her throat. She did everything she could to keep herself as professional as she could. Hunter took a deep breath. His words were slurred as he spoke, "And if I had, would you have forced yourself come with? Even if I ordered you not to."

"I understand what we do is dangerous."

He cut her off, "People die in this line of work. A lot of people die. And I do what I can to make sure that my people don't. And sometimes…"

His grip on his glass tightened. The ice shifted as his wrist rolled with it, "And sometimes… I fail." His breath shook as his grip loosed on the strangled glass. "We knew this job would come back. We knew it would be the death of us. Hanson didn't make it back. And I refused to let you have a chance of getting hurt. Or worse."

His words cut deep. He did care. He also knew that if he told her in person she would push herself to go with knowing full well the dangers before them. But he knew more about it. He knew that she would be unfit. Any unnecessary danger was to be avoided so he left without her knowing. Even so, they still paid a price.

There were no more words. Juliet made her way around the chair to lean herself on his shoulders, wrapping him up in her arms. She knew better than to say anything. Once he had enough, he patted her arm. She gave him his space out of respect, ensuring the door was closed behind her. The click-clack of her shoes seemed to be the only noise in her ears as she made her way down the hallway. The door to Hanson's office was still open allowing her to step inside. She shut the door behind her, leaning against it, before sliding down. She hid her face in her arms to stiffel the noise but the hurt came, and the tears followed.

The man who she had worked alongside as a professional and as a personal guide was gone. All that was left was the mark he had made on her. His words of encouragement helped push her along to where she was at this moment in her relationship. She had learned so much and advanced to a position that she had never thought possible. She would have never imagined that she would be working in a position such as this. That she was stricken to the life she had before of trying to survive as an outcast, as a cursed human who gave in to their desires. But by chance, of all the contractors out there, the ones who came after her were the ones who would be willing to see past her hunger. That they would give her a second chance.

A teacher. A mentor. A man who stood above all others with a grace that could only be described as knightly. The world had lost a treasure. And that treasure was named…

Hanson Frederick Calvary