A young man sat in the silence of night on a roof top. He decided to enjoy the view, while enjoying a canteen filled with liquor. He was leaned against a rail, that ran around the perimeter of the roof. He was staring at a building in the distance. It was fully lit, and had large spotlights shining on it from the base. The sounds of the city aided him in calming down, and his mind started to wander. But sadly, it wandered a little too far, and-
"FLAK GUN!" A voice shouted, followed by a loud boom. The man immediately put his hand on his head, and ducked down. He checked his surroundings, and found that he was still safe, and still on the roof. This man, though he looked young, was rather old. Born in 1871, he fought in world war one and two, Vietnam, world war three, and the omnic crisis. The seasoned veteran sighed and put his hand against the rail. People say that living forever would be great, but biological immortality can be a curse. You can still die from external forces. You can still get shot, stabbed, or contract a disease and die. But, as long as you are in stable condition, you will live on. You will live to see the worst parts of history, and live to see everyone grow old and die.
The man goes by the name of Christopher Greyfield, and he's now 192 years old, going to be 193 on March 5th. He raised his canteen to take a sip, but something caught his attention first. It started out as a distant noise, almost unnoticeable. But it seemed to be moving around, and getting closer. Christopher took one final look at his canteen, and screwed the lid on. He tucked the container in his pocket. From his other pocket, he pulled out an antique Colt 1917 service revolver. He clicked the cylindrical magazine off to the side, and began loading six shots into the slots. Each round made a pleasant , high pitched clink as they were dropped into the slots.
He clicked the cylinder back into place, and held the pistol down at his side while he went to investigate. By now, the noise was very close. As Christopher reached the other end of the rooftop, something ran into him. It was moving too fast to see, but it made the very sound he'd been searching for. Christopher fell onto his back, and his pistol came out of his hand and landed next to him. He blinked a few times, trying to regain his bearings. He groaned and he shifted his body weight to sit up.
"Oh my god, i'm so sorry! I didn't see you." An english accent said. Christopher sat up, and the first thing he noticed was a round, blue light. His eyes shifted upward, and were met by a woman's face in a pair of orange goggles. She held out a hand to him, and pulled him up. She looked to the ground, to see what he'd dropped. His wallet, his canteen, and his pistol all lay scattered around where he previously sat.
"What's with the gun, love?" She asked. Christopher sighed.
"I didn't know what was making that noise. I guess i found that information out the hard way." He said. Lena bent down and picked up his wallet. As she did, a few things fell out. She picked them up and read them. First, she read the name on his ID.
"Christopher Greyfield. Thats a nice name for a yank." She said. She continued reading, until she pieced together a bit of interesting information. "Woah, thats weird. According to this birth certificate, a guy named Christopher Greyfield was born in 1871. Is he a relative?" Lena asked, handing the material back to Christopher.
"No, it's me." He said, putting his wallet in his pocket. He bent down and grabbed his canteen, while the woman grabbed his gun.
"I'm afraid i'm a bit confuse, Love." She said, handing Christopher his gun. He pocketed the items, and cleared his throat.
"I'm really old, let's just say that." He said.
She did some real quick math, and shot back another question. "So, you're one hundred and ninety two years old?"
"Yep." He said. He turned to walk over to a chair. But a shooting pain course through his ankle. "Ouch!" He said under his breath.
"Oh god, it looks like i've hurt you." She said. "Here," She got under his arm and started walking him toward the stairwell. "I've got some friends bringing a ship really soon. We can take you to get your ankle fixed. How bad is the pain?" Christopher grunted.
"Bad enough. I almost fell again after putting weight on it." He said. The girl gave him a sympathetic look.
"I'm really sorry about this. I should've took my time." She said. Christopher waved off her statement.
"Nah. it's fine. Hey, mind giving me your name? You already know me, so..." The girl smiled.
"Call me Lena." She said. Christopher nodded.
"That's a nice name." He said. The two got to the stairs, and began a long process of getting down the stairs. Christopher tried to put his foot down for a moment, to try and rest his tired leg. He winced and lifted his foot right back up. Once at the bottom of the stairs, the two slowly moved to the building exit. The alley they entered was covered in garbage and graffiti. They swore they saw a rat skip off behind a dumpster to avoid being caught.
They proceeded to walk up the street, in the direction of a large intersection. As they were about twenty feet from the intersection, a large ship came over head and slowly descended into the middle of the intersection. The door slid open, and a white light from the ship's interior illuminated the two. Lena loaded him aboard, and sat him down in the copilot seat. She turned on the radio, and spoke into a microphone.
"Hey, Winston. I'm gonna be bringing someone back with me. I accidentally hurt him, and he needs medical attention." She said. Someone on the other end sighed.
"Lena, what did i tell you about being careful?" He said. Lena rolled her eyes.
"It's just his ankle. We'll be there in an hour." She said. Winston groaned.
"Alright. Just be safe, and i'll see you in an hour." He said. The call ended with a beep, and Lena sat back in her seat. She looked over to Christopher. He was clutching his leg, and trying to control his breathing, despite the large amount of pain.
"Hey," Lena said. She put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked her right in the eyes. Strangely, looking into his eyes gave her chills. His gaze seemed to have an eerie sense behind it. She smiled at him. "Just relax, alright? We'll be there in an hour, and we'll get you patched up."
He nodded and sat back in his chair. He reclined the chair a bit and laid back to try and relax. He placed his hands on his chest, and gazed upward. The cockpit had a large window in the front that extended up and over the pilot and copilot seats, giving Christopher a clear view of the night sky. There were a few stars out, but not as many as he had previously seen. When he was much younger, he was able to see thousands of stars. The whole milky way, even. But, to Christopher, something is better than nothing. A thought came into his head, and he sat up.
"Hey, do you think we can make a quick stop?" He asked. Lena looked at him.
"What for?" She asked.
"I have a few things i would like to pick up. I'm getting a hunch that i'll be away from home for awhile." He said. Lena nodded.
"Right. Where are we going then?" She asked.
"Four-eleven Frederick Ave. That's my place. I have a few boxes i'd like to take with me." He said. Lena got up to get an emergency pair of crutches from the medical supplies aboard the ship.
~~~oOo~~~
From the inside of the home, the sound of the tumblers inside the lock clicking into place pierced the silence. The front door creaked open, and the sound of crutches clicking against the floor echoed through the house. The lights flickered on, and Christopher sighed.
"Here we are!" He announced. Lena followed him into the living area, and inspected her surroundings. She looked at the photos on a shelf off to her right, ranging from very old to new. She looked at the plants that were scattered around windowsills. She looked at the couch that was placed adjacent to the television. The place definitely didn't look anything like she thought it would. It was a lot simpler than she thought.
She followed him to a room, where he opened a closet. There were three medium sized boxes, and a few smaller, rectangular cases. Each rectangular case had a strap on it to help with carrying it. Christopher grabbed a book bag and placed it on one shoulder.
"I'll carry the elongated cases. You just need to put the straps on my shoulders. And i'll be putting some clothes, and my photos in my pack. You with carry the medium boxes. Sound fair enough?" He asked. Lena nodded. "Great, i'll start by packing my bag." He said.
He walked over to one of his dressers and opened it. Lena decided to get a head start on carrying the boxes. She picked them up and stacked them in front of the closet. One of the three was a bit heavier than the rest, so she decided to take that one first to get the harder workload out of the way. She took the box and carried it through the living room, out the front door, and onto the ship. When she came back, she found him carefully putting photographs into his bag. She walked passed him, and back into the bedroom, where she grabbed the second box. After dropping that one off on the ship, she came back to find Christopher Waiting in his bedroom with his bag on his back.
"Alright. Now, i want you to put the straps on the long cases on my shoulders. You'll carry the last box out and i'll lock up the place." He said. Lena chuckled.
"I didn't know you were going to carry all of those boxes at once, love. You sure you can handle it?" She asked. Christopher nodded.
"Of course. I'll be fine." He said. Lena smile and shook her head.
"Alright." She said. She grabbed two cases, and put the straps on each of his shoulders, allowing the straps to run across his chest for balance. She put all seven cases onto him, and he didn't seem very strained by the excess weight.
"Well, let's get a move on." He said. To her astonishment, he walked out the doorway with ease. Despite his handicap of being on crutches. She shook her head and picked up the last box. She followed him out the front door, where he turned to lock the door. He stepped aside to let her pass, and locked the door behind them. From there, he followed her back onto the airship. He set down the cases next to his boxes, and walked back up to the copilot seat. He carefully placed the crutches down next to the seat as he sat down.
"You set to go, love?" Lena asked. Christopher nodded. "So, what's with the boxes and such?"
"Hmm? Oh, they're just filled with some memorabilia from a time long ago." He said. He removed his pack and placed it in his lap. He opened the bag, and removed some photos. He looked at the photos for a moment, remembering the details of each one, before losing himself to his own thoughts. His blank stare made lena curious. So, she got up and walked over to his side. She bent down a bit to get a closer look at the photos. Currently, he was staring at a photo that was on the top of the stack. The photo was of him, and it was in black and white. He was standing in an old military uniform, with his hand at his temples in a salute. At the bottom, written in ink was the date; "March 19th, 1918"
"You served in the military?" Lena asked. Christopher nodded absent mindedly.
"I've served a lot on my life. This photo was taken two days before the second battle of the Somme. The germans managed to push us back 40 miles before we could halt their advance. They inflicted some 200,000 casualties, while taking roughly 70,000 prisoners." He said.
"I remember the final weeks of the war vividly…."
~~~oOo~~~
We had received word that an allied assault managed to become entrenched in the middle of the german line, throwing a wrench in their whole defense system. From what i heard, those men fought for days before reinforcements managed to get through, and destroy the german defensive line. Thanks to the fall of the german front line, we were starting to push them back. I was on what would be one of my final missions going over the top. Armed with a bayonet, a 1917 colt service revolver, and an M1903 springfield rifle, i sat anxiously in the trench, waiting for the whistle to be blown.
The men around me seemed just as nervous as i was. Beside me was a young man, no older than eighteen. I remember being able to tell he was british, due to the type of rifle in his hands. His hands were shaking, and his knuckles were white from how tightly he was clenching his rifle. I reached over and put my hand on his shoulder.
"Is this your first time, kid?" I asked. He nodded. "What's your name, kid?"
"J-Jonathan, sir." He said. I nodded and extended my hand to him.
"Name's Christopher." I said. We shook hands. "You nervous?" He nodded.
"A little, yeah." He said.
"Well, it's your lucky day Jonathan, i've been over the top quite a bit now. Just keep your head down, Shoot anyone that's dressed like a german, and stay with me, you'll be fine." I said. Suddenly, our conversation was cut short by the sound of our squad leader.
"Fix your bayonets!" He shouted. This phrase was often a sign that we were going over the top soon. It still gives me chills thinking about it. Everyone put their bayonets on their rifles, and held them tightly.
"Remember kid, Head down, shoot germans, stay with me." I repeated. He nodded and i got into position on the ladder. Jonathan took up position right behind me in the line. I remember the last few minutes before we went up. My heart was racing so badly, i could hear it in my ears over the sound of artillery. Then, finally, the whistle came. Hundreds of shouting men rushed up the sides of the trenches, and into no man's land. Many were cut down as soon as they reached the top of the ladders. But luckily for me and jonathan, we had numbers on our side.
I rushed up the ladder with everyone else, and turned to help Jonathan get out of the trench quicker. As soon as men started flooding out of the trenches, machine guns started firing at the never ending horde. I quickly grabbed Jonathan's hand, and pulled him up out of the trench. Him and I rushed to the first impact crater we could find, and took cover in it. This is a strategy i had seen many use before, and if you did it right, it could save your life out there. We let a few dozen men rush by us to try and disappear in the horde. Once there were enough people in front of us, we rushed out of the crater, and ran like hell. We passed the next few craters, before ducking into another one. I could already see the faces of the german defense soldiers, telling me that this was the most dangerous part.
"Kid! Let me see your helmet for a moment!" I shouted over the sounds of artillery and machine guns. He nodded and took off his helmet. I grabbed it and placed it on the but of my rifle. I poked the top of the helmet out of the hole for a moment, until someone shot it. I let it fall down, tricking them into think i was dead. This is a trick i had also learned from others. Suddenly, i poked my head up with my rifle, and shot their machine gunner. Jonathan did the same, and took out a rifleman.
He put his helmet back on, and we rushed forward. We both took our bayonets off our rifles before dropping into the german trench. I liked to wield my bayonet as a knife in the tight conditions of the trenches. I threw my rifle over my back, letting it hang by the strap, and i pulled out my service revolver. Jonathan did the same, and we started shooting germans as they rushed down the trench. Knife in one hand, revolver in the other, we started trying to clear the trench. After a bit of jogging through the trenches, stabbing or shooting people as we went, I saw a machine gunner and a rifleman who hadn't noticed us. I shot the machine gunner, and Jonathan shot the rifleman.
But a few moments after this, our men started hopping into the trenches with us. What happened next, still saddens me to this day. The germans had sent reinforcements, and one had climbed up and over the second trench row to get to the front lines. He jumped down into the trench, and stabbed Jonathan in the right side of the chest.
"Kid!" I shouted. I stabbed the german soldier in the throat with my bayonet, and threw him off Jonathan. I knelt down beside jonathan. He was holding his hand over the stab wound in his chest, and bleeding profusely. The knife must have punctured his lung, because he started gasping for air and coughing up blood. I Put my hand over his, trying to stop the bleeding.
"You said if i stuck with you i'd be fine!" He said between his teeth, a look of pain and sadness plastered on his face. I almost broke down crying when he said that.
"I know! I'm so sorry, Jonathan!" He wheezed once more.
"I-It's not your fault." He said. He started crying. "I want my mom! Oh god, i want my mom!" He said. After a few pained moments of his weeping, he stopped breathing. I shook him a few times, and when his head rolled side ways, his dead eyes locked with mine. Tears were still sliding down his face, but he never blinked. I started to weep for him.
"Oh Jonathan. I'm so sorry. I told you that you would be fine if you stayed with me. I had no idea this would happen." I said. From a T junction in the trench, i heard very distinct german. My sadness was replaced with rage, and i was now out for blood. I grabbed a grenade, and chucked it right into the middle of the junction. It went off right as three german soldiers rushed out. The closest one to the blast had his leg blown off. I reloaded my Revolver, just to be safe. I Held my pistol firmly, with my eye down the sights. Four more germans rushed out into the junction. I shot two of them twice, just to ensure they were dead. But the others were shot clean through the skull.
After five minutes of sitting in the one spot, shooting germans as they rushed to take their trench back, i was met by more of our troops. I had refused to leave Jonathan's body up until that point. After a moment of thinking, i took jonathan's dog tags and rushed to the others. The fighting continued fiercely for another hour, before finally, the germans issued a retreat. After The germans left, the trench became quiet. The friendly artillery had stopped for now, likely to give our runners time to send word to the rear. The enemy artillery had also stopped, as they probably had to leave them behind in their retreat. This was one of the only times that i heard near silence.
I sat down with some other soldiers, and took a moment to think. I couldn't cry anymore, but i felt like i had killed an innocent puppy. I was still clutching Jonathan's dogtags in my left hand, while holding my revolver in the other. I had lost my rifle during the hour long fight, but i still had my bayonet in its holster. One of the soldiers had started a small fire, and opened a can of beans with his bayonet. He took his can and dumped its contents into his steel helmet. He held the helmet by the brim, trying to cook the beans in it. I just ate some bread. I didn't trust eating out of those things like some did.
I couldn't stop thinking about Jonathan, and what he'd said to me. Even while i was eating, i thought about his words. Usually i would talk it up amongst the others. but this time, i was silent as a mouse.
~~~oOo~~~
"And, like i said at the beginning, the war ended a few weeks later. But the war to end all wars still lingers in my memories, occasionally rearing its head like an ugly beast, to haunt me again." Christopher finished. Lena sat with her hand over her mouth. She felt like crying. He had been telling his story for over an hour, and she was beginning to understand why he wanted to take his stuff with him. They were the only ties he had to those he'd lost to war, or time. She walked over to his side, bent down, and gave him a hug.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that love." She said, trying not to cry. He simply reached his right hand up, reached over to his left side, and placed it on her shoulder. She ran her hand across his back, and Christopher started to sob silently. As his crying was starting to become a little more audible, Tears began silently rolling down Lena's cheeks. She rarely ever cried, but this man's story struck a cord. Despite trying to keep the poor boy alive, Christopher lost Jonathan to the war. In the chaos of war, no one is safe. Lena wiped her eyes and placed her chin on the top of Christopher's head.
"We'll be arriving at base any minute now. Don't worry about your things, i'll take them to the medical wing. You just get to Angela and get some rest." She said. Christopher sniffed and wiped his eyes. He cleared his throat, and sat back in his chair sniffling.
"Thank you for…. Putting up with my sob story. Sorry if i bored you." He said between sniffles.
"Nonsense. If you ever want to tell me anything, anything at all, don't hesitate." She said. He nodded.
"Thank you. You've been very kind to this old man." He said. Lena lightly smiled at him.
"Oh, come now. You don't look a day over twenty five. And you're still healthy and kicking. I'd say your life has only just begun." She said. Christopher sniffed and chuckled.
"Still doesn't change my age though." He said.
