Day One: Absurdity

With a shared moment of laugher Ethan turned to leave, but as he did so his ranger-trained senses picked up on a subtle shift in the atmosphere. A group of men in military uniforms had entered. Ethan's eyes narrowed, but without dwelling deeply he stepped out onto the sidewalk, inhaling deeply.

The day had warmed considerably, the sun beating down on the pavement. As he walked, a low rumble caught his attention. Ethan looked up, shielding his eyes against the glare.

A formation of F-15 Eagles streaked across the sky, their sleek silhouettes unmistakable. Ethan frowned. It wasn't unusual to see military aircraft given the proximity to Joint Base Lewis-McChord, but something about their flight pattern seemed... off. They were flying too low, too fast for a routine exercise.

Lost in thought, Ethan nearly collided with a man rounding the corner. He stepped back, an apology on his lips, only to freeze as recognition dawned.

"Well, well," drawled a voice that set Ethan's teeth on edge. "If it ain't the mighty hunter himself."

Ethan's jaw clenched as he faced the sneering visage of Marcus Harding. The owner of Tacoma's seediest "adult entertainment" establishment was the last person Ethan wanted to encounter today.

"Marcus," Ethan said curtly, fighting to keep his tone neutral. "Didn't expect to see you out in the daylight."

Marcus's leer widened, revealing tobacco-stained teeth. "Oh, I get around. Unlike some folks, I don't need to hide in the woods to feel like a real man."

Ethan's fists clenched at his sides, but he forced himself to remain calm. "If you'll excuse me, I have places to be."

He made to step around Marcus, but the older man shifted, blocking his path. "Not so fast, soldier boy. How's that pretty ex-wife of yours doing? Oh wait," he chuckled, the sound oily and grating, "I guess I'd know better than you, wouldn't I?"

The taunt hit its mark, reopening old wounds Ethan thought had long since healed. The image of Lisa, his ex-wife, in the arms of this sleazeball was enough to make his blood boil.

"I'm only going to say this once, Marcus," Ethan said, his tone now turning dangerous. "Stay away from me, and stay away from my family. Whatever happened between Lisa and me is in the past. It's got nothing to do with you."

Marcus's eyes glittered with malice. "Oh, but it does. See, Lisa's told me all about your little... arrangement. How you're playing house with your sister and that bratty niece of yours. Must be nice, having all that female company around. Maybe I should pay them a visit, see if they need a real man's touch."

Them? Did this man not know his niece was 16 year old? Not even out of high school?

It took every ounce of Ethan's self-control not to lay Marcus out right there on the sidewalk. Instead, he leaned in close. "You so much as look at Megan or Zoe, and I promise you, they'll never find your body. Are we clear?"

For a moment, fear flickered in Marcus's eyes. But it was quickly replaced by a sneer. "Crystal," he spat. "But watch your back, Ryder. This town ain't big enough for both of us."

With that, Marcus shouldered past Ethan, disappearing into the crowd. Ethan stood there for a long moment, now that left a sour taste in his mouth, tainting the otherwise pleasant morning.

Checking his watch, Ethan realized he still had some time before meeting Zoe for lunch. He needed to clear his head, shake off the lingering anger.

Deciding to take a detour, Ethan headed towards Point Defiance Park. The lush greenery and winding trails always had a calming effect on him. As he walked, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was... off.

Reaching the park, Ethan found a quiet bench overlooking the sound. He sat, watching the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. In the distance, he could make out the silhouette of a naval vessel, its grey hull barely distinguishable from the water.

As he sat there, letting the peaceful surroundings work their magic, Ethan's thoughts drifted to Zoe. He pondered what he could do to bridge the gap between them, to help her feel more at home in Tacoma. Maybe he could offer to teach her some basic wilderness survival skills? Or take her to the shooting range, show her how to handle a rifle safely?

The sound of laughter drew his attention. A family was having a picnic nearby, two young children chasing each other around a blanket while their parents looked on, smiling. The scene tugged at something deep within Ethan - a longing for a life he'd once thought was within his grasp.

After a short drive back into town Ethan stood outside the deli, hands shoved in his pockets, scanning the sidewalk for any sign of Zoe. The uneasy feeling from earlier still gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside.

He spotted her approaching, head down, thumbs flying over her phone screen. Ethan suppressed a sigh. Getting her to engage was going to be a challenge.

"Hey, kiddo," he called out as she neared. "How was the art store?"

Zoe looked up, startled, as if she'd forgotten about their lunch plans. "Oh, um, it was fine," she mumbled, shoving her phone into her pocket. "They had some cool stuff."

Ethan held the door open, ushering her inside. The deli was crowded, the air thick with the scent of fresh-baked bread and spices. They found a small table in the corner, away from the main lunch rush.

As they settled in, an awkward silence stretched between them. Ethan cleared his throat. "So, find anything good at the store?"

Zoe shrugged, fidgeting with her napkin. "Just some new charcoals and a sketchbook."

"That's great," Ethan said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "You know, I'd love to see some of your work sometime."

Zoe's eyes flickered up to meet his. "Maybe," she said noncommittally.

They ordered sandwiches, and as they waited, Ethan decided to take a chance. "Listen, Zoe," he began, leaning forward slightly. "I know this move hasn't been easy on you. And I know I'm probably the last person you want to be hanging out with right now."

Zoe's shoulders tensed, but she didn't interrupt.

"I was thinking," Ethan continued, "maybe I could teach you a thing or two about survival skills. You know, how to track, how to move silently in the woods. Stuff that might come in handy for an artist looking for inspiration in nature."

Zoe's eyebrows shot up. "Survival skills? Like, right now?"

Ethan chuckled. "Well, not right this second. But maybe this afternoon, if you're up for it?"

To his surprise, Zoe seemed to consider it. "I guess that could be... interesting," she said slowly. "Better than sitting around the house all day."

Their food arrived, and as they ate, the conversation flowed a bit more easily. Zoe asked a few questions about Ethan's time in the Rangers, and he shared some of his less harrowing experiences.

After lunch, they headed back to Ethan's house. Megan's car was gone – probably out getting groceries, Ethan figured. He led Zoe around to the backyard, where two German Shepherds bounded up to greet them.

"Max and Duke," Ethan said, scratching behind Max's ears. "Best hunting companions a guy could ask for."

Zoe hesitantly reached out to pet Duke, who immediately rolled over for a belly rub. A small smile tugged at her lips.

"Alright," Ethan said, clapping his hands together. "Let's start with the basics of moving silently."

Over the next hour, Ethan taught Zoe various techniques. He showed her how to walk heel-to-toe to minimize noise, how to use cloth to muffle gear, and how to identify and exploit an animal's weak spots.

"But what if you can't pierce the skin?" Zoe asked, thinking of nature documentaries she'd seen. "Like with a hippo or something?"

Ethan nodded approvingly. "Good question. In those cases, you need to get creative. Look for vulnerable areas – eyes, mouth, maybe even inside the ears. It's about using your environment and your wits, not just brute force."

As they practiced setting up simple sound traps, Ethan was impressed by Zoe's natural aptitude.

She picked up the techniques quickly, very quickly. "You've got a knack for this," Ethan said, watching her arrange leaves to disguise a tripwire.

Zoe shrugged, but he could see a hint of pride in her eyes. "It's kind of like composing a picture, I guess. Everything has to be in the right place."

As the afternoon wore on, they moved on to knife skills. Ethan showed Zoe how to properly handle a machete and a hunting knife.

"Remember," he said, demonstrating a smooth, controlled cut, "it's about precision, not power. Let the blade do the work." He didn't want her to chop her own hand off now, his sister wouldn't stop on her rampage to kill him if that happened.

Zoe nodded, he was surprised by just how concentrated she was as she mimicked his movements. It was clear she was enjoying learning from him. Perhaps in another life, in different circumstances, they could have been close. He could have been teaching her these things all along.

"So," he said, trying to keep his tone casual, "what'd you think?"

Zoe was quiet for a moment, absently petting Max, who had flopped down at her feet. "It was... actually pretty cool," she admitted. "Thanks, Uncle Ethan."

The use of his name, spoken without the usual edge of resentment, made Ethan's heart swell. "Anytime, kiddo. Maybe we could make this a regular thing?"

Zoe nodded, a small smile playing at her lips. "Yeah, maybe we could."

Ethan and Zoe made their way back to the house. As they stepped onto the back porch, Ethan's phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Hey, Meg," he answered, noticing Zoe tense slightly at the mention of her mother. "Everything okay?"

Megan's voice came through, tinny and frustrated. "Ethan, I hate to ask, but I could use some help. I'm at Costco, and I may have gone a bit overboard with the groceries. Any chance you and Zoe could swing by?"

Ethan glanced at Zoe, who was pretending not to listen. "Sure thing, sis. We'll be there in fifteen."

As he hung up, Zoe raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess, Mom bought out half the store again?"

Ethan chuckled. "Looks like it. Come on, let's go rescue her from her shopping spree."

They piled into Ethan's truck, the leather seats still warm from the day's heat. As they pulled out of the driveway, Ethan noticed Zoe seemed more relaxed than usual, her fingers tapping along to the radio instead of being glued to her phone.

"So," he ventured, "think you might want to try out my rifle at the range sometime?"

Zoe considered for a moment. "Yeah, actually. That could be cool."

Ethan felt a warmth spread through his chest.

As they merged onto the highway, a flicker of movement caught Ethan's eye. He glanced up through the windshield, his breath catching in his throat. A streak of light slashed across the darkening sky, followed by another, another, another and another.

"Uncle Ethan?" Zoe's voice was small, uncertain. "What's that?"

Before he could answer, a wailing siren split the air. Ethan's military instincts kicked into overdrive, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.

"Meteors," he muttered, more to himself than to Zoe. "But why would they...?"

His thoughts were interrupted by a deafening boom. The truck shuddered as a shockwave rippled through the air. All around them, cars were screeching to a halt, drivers and passengers pouring out to stare at the sky in slack-jawed awe.

"Zoe," he said sharply, turning to his niece. Her face was pale, eyes wide with fear. "Zoe, listen to me. We need to get to your mom. Now."

But Zoe seemed frozen, her gaze locked on the fiery streaks crisscrossing the sky. In the distance, Ethan could see shapes rising into the air – fighter jets scrambling to intercept.

"Zoe!" He reached out, shaking her shoulder.

She blinked, turning to him with unfocused eyes. "What?"

"Get down!" Ethan roared, just as a blinding flash lit up the world. The truck rocked violently, the sound of shattering glass and screaming metal filling the air.

Ethan threw himself over Zoe, shielding her as best he could. Through the cracked windshield, he saw a massive fireball erupt from the direction of downtown Tacoma. Panic clawed at his throat, but he forced it down.

"Are you okay?" he asked Zoe, his voice hoarse. She nodded mutely, her face ashen.

With shaking hands, Ethan fumbled for his phone. He had to reach Megan. The call went straight to voicemail. "Damn it," he muttered, tossing the useless device aside.

All around them, chaos reigned. People were running, screaming, their faces masks filled with terror. In the distance, more explosions rocked the city. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid smell of burning.

Ethan gunned the engine, the truck lurching forward. He drove through the sea of abandoned vehicles, his ranger training kicking in. Assess. Adapt. Survive.

"Uncle Ethan," Zoe's voice quavered. "What's happening?"

He wished he had an answer for her. "I don't know, kiddo. But we're going to find your mom, and we're going to be okay. You hear me? We're going to be okay."

Another explosion, closer this time. Ethan swerved, narrowly avoiding a chunk of flaming debris.

They were less than a mile from the store when it happened. A deafening shriek filled the air, and suddenly the world tilted sideways. Ethan felt a moment of weightlessness, then a bone-jarring impact. Glass shattered, metal screamed, and everything went black.