The Faded Frequency
The rain hit the tin roof of the command post. It was a sharp, metallic sound. Sergeant Elias Thorne watched the water bead on his forehead. He wiped it away. His hand shook. He was fifty-two. He felt eighty. The clock on the wall ticked. Tick. Tick. Tick. Each second was a nail in his coffin. He was not a soldier anymore. Not really. He was a man running out of time. His knees ached when he...
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