Brendan swore and hit the dirt as the ground bucked beneath his feet with that first impact.  He rolled onto his back just in time to see unmarked fighters of unknown extraction screaming above him, chased by a pair of Foundation fighters hot on their tails.  He spat out mud and cursed.

Calm down.  You didn’t see this shit in her visions, did you?  No.  That means this is unexpected.

It also means that we really couldn’t predict it.  He rolled to his feet and after a few stumbling steps was moving at nearer to top speed again, not wasting the breath to give voice to the litany of curses that echoed inside of his skull.

Who the hell is attacking us?

Doesn’t matter.  You need to find Winston and you need to find him now.

The ground shuddered again as another set of bombers made another run, another pass.  The reports of the Foundation fighters’ gattlings echoed even at a distance and Brendan shivered.  The rounds would chew through just about anything.  He knew.  He’d seen the weapons tests.

The vineyard was within sight, now, but he saw nothing, saw no one.  It was achingly empty.

What if I was wrong?  What if they’re not out here, what if they went another way?

            What if…

He swore viciously and kept running.  No, they must’ve come this way.  Maybe they’ve already made it to safety.

It was a nice thought.

Brendan could no longer keep track of where the bombs were falling, where the ships were above his head.  All he could hear was the sound of his heart pounding in his ears as he pitched toward the shelter at Gabe’s café.

Then the sight of a bomber spiraling to the ground eclipsed his view of the world ahead of him and he stopped knowing anything at all.