Chapter 1: Second Chances and New Nightmares

When I woke up, I was Andy Dalton.

I stared at the ceiling, heart thumping. Was this a nightmare, or had I really traded my dead-end life for a legend’s skin? The alarm clock kept buzzing on the cheap nightstand, casting harsh red numbers across the threadbare carpet. My old man, Leonard Dalton, lost 700,000 troops in one boneheaded Hail Mary—like betting the farm on a busted flush. And Luke Boyer torched everything we owned, as quick as a match tossed into dry Iowa grass.

To keep from reliving the heartbreak of heroes crying for nothing out at Westfield—again—I promised myself: dodge every pitfall this time around. No more noble last stands for nothing; this was my second shot, and I’d be damned if I didn’t play it smarter.

If Mark Howard planned to rebel, I’d get ahead of it—reinforce South County, shore up defenses, make sure we weren’t caught with our pants down. I could still see the look on Matt’s face the day the Junction fell. Not this time.

Let Matt Summers guard Gateway Junction? Absolutely not. Replace him immediately, no hesitation. I remembered the panic in his eyes the last time. No sense letting history repeat itself on my watch.

Larry Young in charge of supply runs? Not a chance. I’d rather trust a raccoon with my lunch. The last time he ran logistics, we were lucky to get cold beans.

Now that I had the playbook in hand, if I could persuade the Chief of Staff up top and get rid of the snakes down below... maybe I could finally catch a break for the Dalton family.

No more microwaved noodles at midnight, no more listening to the neighbors scream at each other through paper-thin drywall, no more scraping by on gas station coffee. This was my shot at something better.