One of them pounced on me just inside the door of the next ruined building, knocking me back against the doorframe. I whipped out my knife and slammed it up under the jaw of my attacker before I even saw the familiar camouflage-pattern uniform.

Once I did, the equipment was familiar too. And the dusty name badge. And the face that growled in a completely unfamiliar snarl. I removed my knife and let him fall.

“As in life, so in death. You always were a bit slow, buddy.”

I did him the courtesy of one shot from the pistol. His memory dissolved into smoke, and I stepped over him into the room, gun up and firing.

Some comrades are best left behind.