Bridgett and Jameson remained on the front lines of the Endurance forces for three years₈₄₂ before they were both promoted and moved to an operational outpost in the territory that was once northern Nevada. 

Bridgett was given tactical command over seven units. The units were still fighting Emergent forces in the small communities that made up northern California. They were people that Bridgett had fought alongside for three years. She was proud to do everything in her power to keep them safe.

Jameson was put in intelligence and spent days interrogating captured Emergent soldiers for information before either killing them or placing them in confinement. He did not like the brutal nature of the interrogations and would often find himself throwing up following the death of a captive. But he remained strong in his conviction that Endurance was on the right side of history. In moments of weakness, he would remember the death of his mother and those responsible. He told Isabella that it was this memory along with the love of Isabella that kept him going. He was happy that she was happy.

Bridgett felt secure. She felt safe. It was something of a pastoral life they were living and she liked it. For the first time Bridgett understood why towns like Hillston were formed. There was something beautiful about knowing everyone around you. There was something safe about it, even though it was a tactical military base.  The battle felt far away and when they had both accomplished their duties for the day, they would retire to a comfortable home together. 

The outpost was assembled around a long abandoned town₁₈₂₅ and permanent staff were given homesteads. Bridgett and Jameson were assigned a small, one bedroom unit, fashioned from old shipping containers, on the edge of the base. They took to decorating it together on evenings and during leave. They painted the inside with desert cactus and blue sky. They tried and failed to garden in the spring and summer. Some mornings Bridgett would look around and try to imagine the tall buildings of the mega-metropolises she had read about in school. She started thinking about Lakeview and those buildings and then imagined them bigger, more impressive. Just the thought of it made her feel small and insignificant.

They had taken to evening walks once a week so that they could take advantage of the silence around them. The desert was quiet. They would walk far off into the night and to the top of a hill that overlooked the base not speaking much.

Jameson proposed to Bridgett on such a walk in the middle of winter.

The moon was bright and full. Jameson would recall it like a sign from his God that he was doing the right thing and that his timing was correct. Bridgett could feel Jameson’s hands sweating and the tenseness in his muscles but she said nothing. She assumed that it was a rough day and he often did not like discussing the details of his work. Instead, she pulled herself closer to him and hugged her other arm around his as they walked.

When they found their spot and looked over the bright floods illuminating the base, Bridgett sat. It was a warmer than average day and she was feeling a bit tired. She lost three soldiers. Soldiers that she had families. It was always difficult for her. But the peacefulness of being alone with Jameson made it all okay. If just for a moment. As she finished a deep exhale she turned to see that Jameson was still standing.

“What’s wrong? Sit down.” She laughed uncomfortably. He was staring at her.

“Just one more second.” Jameson stared down at Bridgett and noticed how bright the light was in her eyes. He tried to memorize everything about her face in that moment. He focused on the way the wrinkles around her eyes perfectly framed them and how her nostrils would flare when she was confused. He took in the three stray hairs that fell across her forehead, released from the tight bun she usually kept her hair in at work.  She was, in his estimation, perfect.

He knelt down

He smiled at her and took out his rock.

He said:

“Bridgett. I remember our first conversation in the cafeteria and how horrible and awkward it was but how I knew that I was in love with you right then and there. I didn’t even really know what love was but I knew that’s what I felt. When we left the cafeteria, I found this rock and I said to myself that I would use it one day to show you how I knew immediately. It’s really difficult to find a wedding ring in the middle of the desert but on days like this, on hard days, I look forward to our walks because it means I get to spend time with you. And even if it’s an outdated idea or even if we are both dead tomorrow, I still want to marry you. I want to know that it’s forever.”

She said yes.

It was not as loud or joyous as Jameson had been expecting. Her voice was calm and steady. Certain. He was in awe of how strong Bridgett was, in the face of everything.

They hugged and kissed under the moonlight and sat in silence for the next two hours before wandering back to their home.

When they told the rest of their co-workers the next morning they were met with raucous applause and exultations. 

The ceremony was small and they invited only a few of their closest friends₂₀₀₄. They were married by the military chaplain using traditional vows. Jameson mentioned his parents and a grandmother he had never met. Bridgett mentioned her mother and brothers and Barbara along with the man at the top of the hill. The man who died for living his life.

The couple and their friends drank at the barracks as a reception and Bridgett shared with them the story of how she and Jameson met and how she knew she had fallen in love with him.

The following spring brought a major Endurance victory. Emergent forces had been successfully pushed south of Monterey Bay. The celebration was raucous and the entire base was engulfed in drinking and merriment.  For three hours and fourteen minutes, the entire population of the base found themselves outside on the street with alcohol and music. Bridgett and Jameson found themselves in the bathroom of the unused second floor of the barracks – a building that had previously been the town’s only hotel. They danced to the far off music in the moonlight coming through the small window. Their side was gaining ground and both of them had played a major role. There was a romance to it, Bridgett thought.

Eight months, two weeks, and three days later Bridgett gave birth to a female child. It was her twenty-third birthday. Labor lasted for seven hours and the child was born at 4:34pm Mountain Standard Time with the assistance of a field medic. Erma was seven pounds six ounces at birth. The moment Bridgett looked into the eyes of Erma was the moment that Bridgett fell in love for the second and final time. 

The child was fussy but manageable in the first few weeks. They both took time from their duties, taking advantage of the relaxed leave policy of the base.  The first several days were filled with joy and exhaustion as the new parents adjusted to life with a child that would not sleep through the night. They decided to use it as a bonding experience and would both awaken every time the baby needed something. This strategy soon failed and they took to alternating. Bridgett was a patient mother, allowing Erma to cry when it was necessary and not begrudging Jameson if he needed sleep. She found that she was having a difficult time sleeping anyway.

Bridgett developed a postpartum hemorrhage during birth that worsened over the seven weeks following the birth. The field medic incorrectly asserted that it was normal bleeding for the first four days when it was actually caused by a uterine blood clot that would not pass. Bridgett would often wake up moaning in the middle of the night with blood covered sheets and so the two decided that they would sleep with tarps underneath them. Jameson never left her side.

The difficulty ebbed and flowed. Jameson would think, at times, that this was the most perfect version of life: two parents raising their child together with no work or other influence necessary. Other times it felt to Jameson like a cruel joke. Bridgett would have fatigue and bleeding and Jameson would do his best to care for her and Erma with the field medics providing only the most basic necessities for pain and blood management. And Jameson knew that whatever he was feeling could only be a fraction of the toll that Bridgett was experiencing. He tried to be there for her.

It was decided that they would move Bridgett south for medical care in the eighth week as the pain worsened and the base ran out of essential medical supplies for her condition. The field medics had cared for Bridgett in the best way that they could but advised that she needed advanced medical equipment for further diagnosis. 

The emergency field medics loaded Bridgett, Jameson, and Erma into a military caravan with two drivers and plenty of gasoline. The roads south from the base were long decayed and so the journey would be bumpy but they would not need to stop. The caravan was made for short soldier transport and was only partially covered on the top and sides by fabric that flapped in the wind. But the weather was nice enough and Bridgett could not help but be reminded of the caravan she took when she left Lakeview. 

As the caravan rumbled to life and the wind blew past them, the shaking of the truck becoming melodic, Bridgett fell asleep. Erma followed suit. Jameson could not sleep. He was too nervous. So he put his head against the pole behind him and let his mind wander.

Bridgett woke up as the drivers stopped briefly to swap out and fill up the gas tank. Jameson looked down at her lying on his lap and smiled. She was looking at Erma.

“I didn’t think I was going to ever have a child,” she said slowly. 

The pain in her leg had become intense and woken her up but she tried not to show it.

“Why not?” He stroked her hair.

“It just didn’t seem like I was living that kind of life. I always just wanted to explore and get out of Hillston.”

“Well, you definitely succeeded at that.”

Isabella laughed. Winced.

“I suppose so.”

“Finding your way to a big city alone. Getting bombed. Joining a war. Killing a bunch of insurgents. Leading. Pretty adventurous.”

She laughed again.

“Don’t make me laugh. It hurts. It’s not a war. Just a conflict.”

“Oh right. Of course.”

They sat in silence.

“Having a baby is pretty adventurous, too. I think so at least,” Jameson said.

“How very romantic.”

Jameson leaned down and kissed her forehead.

A bump in the road moved a clot out of the leg of Bridgett and her pain subsided. She felt a tingling in her ankle and adjusted her position on the bench to help. She had felt this kind of release before in the last three weeks. She expected it to return.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe you should rest.” Jameson said.

“No. I just want to look at Erma. She’s a good looking baby.”

“You’re welcome.” Jameson smiled. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“Of course it is. We’ve been through much worse. What’s three weeks? I feel better anyway – maybe we should just turn around and go back.”

“Hilarious.”

“We need to make sure she doesn’t grow up like I did. Or like you did. She has to see the world. Explore.”

“We saw the world.”

“The worst parts of it.” Bridgett looked up at Jameson, an idea. “We can take her south. All the way. People say Argentina is nice.”

“People only say that because no one remembers where Argentina is.”

“We’ll take her there anyway.” Jameson looked hard at Bridgett, trying to figure out if she was serious. He could not tell. 

Bridgett had decided that it was important to speak to Jameson as though she would not die. Even if she thought she might. If she died, Bridgett reasoned, anywhere would be safer than New American Empire. Why not Argentina? She didn’t know much Argentina but she knew it was far away. Jameson was not a big ideas person, he needed her guidance. He needed her ideas. 

Bridgett fell asleep in the absence of pain, holding Erma and smiling at Jameson as they imagined what Argentina was like out loud to each other. 

She died of a pulmonary embolism four hours later as she slept.

They were one hundred and seventeen miles from the medical facility and twenty-two miles away from the Emergent base that had once been Hillston.

Jameson awoke to the sound of Erma being fussy to see Bridgett unmoving, her arms limp. He could not find a pulse. He banged hard on the window into the cab of the truck and the vehicle pulled over.

The two soldiers attempted resuscitation. It was not successful.

Jameson made the decision to bury the body on the side of the road rather than carry it back north. He did not think he would be able to ride in the back of the caravan with the corpse of his wife. Jameson and the two soldiers driving said quiet prayers.₂₄₈₁ 

Jameson cried. 

The caravan turned around.

Jameson tried hard to think often of his wife in times when he was with his daughter. He told Erma stories of Bridgett every as they readied for bed even though she would not remember anything. He believed it was important. 

The stories he told were sometimes stories Bridgett had told him of her childhood. They were sometimes stories of Bridgett as a superhero. And on several occasions, when Erma got older, she would request the story of the man in the house on the hill. When she was six, it became one of her favorite stories. The way Jameson told it to her was a story of good and evil – the story of a kind man who did things that the bad people did not like. The bad people sought out retribution and no matter what the kind man did, he could not win. Jameson used the story to teach Erma of the dark things in the world, to encourage her to always stay vigilant because the world was a dark place.