"Are you scared?"

"Yes."

"Good. Fear keeps you alive. Keep your head up, you hear me?"

Gris took me by the shoulders and leant down to look me in the eye. "You got that Finn? Whatever comes at you, you'll be able to handle it."

I shook my head weakly and he sighed. "You will, Finn. I promise. You're stronger than you think."

He stood beside me on the wall and the mere fact of his presence made me feel a little braver. Above us the heavens opened, soaking us in a deluge of icy cold water. Six months I'd known him. First time we met he'd shaken my hand, smiled at me up to those grey eyes and offered to help stow my gear. Three months later he'd saved my life from a fire and had the scars licking up the left side of his chest to prove it. He's one of the Abandoned ones, you see. It's a scientific fact that they cling to the first people to show them kindness and it's true that every other weekend Gris would video call the nurse that had found him in the 'Baby box' at the Unit.

Like an idiot, I'd volunteered.

The Yellow drops came first; so called because of the distinctive yellow stripes on the shell casings. They dropped around us and the gas started to seep out, rolling against the wet stone in the rain. Gris flicked the switch on his head gear to filter out the gas, before turning round to make sure I'd done the same thing. I could see him still grinning under the clear pane of reinforced plexiplastic. Radio flickered on in my ear as the yellow gas started obscuring our vision.

Head north along the wall, over. Bombardments are beginning

The voice exuded calm, but people were starting to panic around me. Incendiaries started dropping, like huge fat raindrops. They'd plunge into the stone wall and stick for a moment. Just when you thought they were defective, or weren't going to go off they'd explode, shattering brick around them and sending people flying away from sheer force. Then everything in a twenty metre radius of it would set on fire.

Someone ran past me on my left, heading towards the north side of the wall. I followed them, breaking into a jog despite the pain in my left leg. Before my eyes he was blown to pieces as a shell detonated. I carried on limping northwards, away from the screaming.

"Gris!" I realised I was screaming his name as I ran. All around me there were people on fire, desperately rolling on the floor to put themselves out but just spreading the flames. It seemed as though even the rain itself was beginning to catch.

A figure barrelled out of the darkness ahead and collided with me. It took me a minute to recognise it as Gris. He grabbed my upper arms and pulled me to one side. His face was dirty, eyes wide and hair sticking to his head under his headpiece.

"It's a trap," he choked out. "We weren't supposed to be able to fight. We're just bait. We've got to get off this wall."

He seized my hand, and I was too numb to do anything but follow him. There were stairs, slippy and treacherous with rainwater and he yanked me down them, into the darkness. Incendiaries and bombs were still falling, but now I could hear the heavy whomp, whomp, whomp of helicopter blades and the machine guns started. The rat-a-tat-tat was unmissable. The screaming faded, stopped altogether. Overhead the helicopters were passing by. We stopped on the stairs, staring overhead as the yellow-painted tails flew past.

There was another quick burst of gunfire and I felt my chest jerk spasmodically. I fell involuntarily and Gris caught me before we both slipped down the stairs. I could hear my own breaths suddenly, as though they were being recorded back through my radio to me.

Your vitals have fallen below the Threshold. The voice in my ear informed me. Your words from this point forwards will be recorded to be presented to your family with your body. Thank you for your Service.

Gris was crying behind the plexiplastic. With difficulty, I pushed my own plate up.

"Are you scared?" I asked him.

"Finn-"

"Are you scared?" I asked him again and he nodded.

"Yes!"

"Good," I assured him. "Fear keeps you alive."