Tom walked south under the brilliant stars of...Siberia, I'm pretty sure. What month is it, anyway? He thought. He never saw stars like that in London, or L.A, or any of the places where he worked. He actually didn't notice how sulfur-yellow the air in LA was until he moved to London, and he didn't notice how smoggy London was until now. Stake died in the night of radiation poisoning and shock. Mostly shock, Tom thought. If it'd been worse, they all would have died. The dumpster probably saved my life again, Tom thought. Tom looked at the constellations he knew and hadn't seen since he went to 'Nam: The big dipper, Orion, the Pegasus. They were so clear now, Tom could make them all out. Tom and Hyuggh had almost passed the last signs of the nuke, but there were still things strewn everywhere. every hundred feet or so, Tom saw bricks, shards of glass, He even saw the red button that should have sent it flying at DC, New York, or any of the places that Russians would want to obliterate. Tom carried it as a good-luck charm. He had no idea whether that was irony or not. Since hyuggh never said anything, his only company was himself. He thought about the things he should have done, the things he shouldn't have done, and the things he wanted to do.
"Stop" he said. there was a hundred-foot cliff right in front of him, dropping down to sharp rocks and a ten-foot ocean. Tom heard rustling in the trees.
"STOP!" someone said in a thick Asian accent. It was different than in Vietnam. Tom turned around, hands high.
"Drop your weapon!" the asian man said.
"Alright, just let me-" he pulled out the gun and shot the one with the stars on his helmet. The others just stood there. "Koreans?" he asked.