There s a simplicity to war. Attacking is the only secret Dare, and the world yields.
"There's a simplicity to war. Attacking is the only secret… Dare, and the world yields."
"You're getting too poetic for war, Captain" Sergeant Howell joked.
"Once you've been in the war as long as I have, 'poetry' doesn't matter" I replied.
"Copy. Hey, how long have you been in the war, anyway?"
"Ever since it all started. I was in the school that got bombed. I was one of the only survivors…"
My name was John Price and I wasn't your average 16 year boy. While others would smoke and party, I would learn. I would learn anything and everything I could and I would not stop. A favorite of mine was warfare, the strategy and tactic of it. It isn't old fashion survival, at least not anymore. Weapons got stronger, killed more efficiently causing more casualties than ever before. While situations change and new tactics are used, it is and will always be about strategy.
I kept in good shape and worked hard, mentally and physiclly. It was another normal day at school where bored teachers droned on about things that even they know doesn't matter. I waited for the the classes to pass by until we reached PE. This class was my favorite because our games all took strategy, like warfare. A bonus was that my best friend shared this class with me. We had been through everything together and knew each other like we were the same person. His name was John Mactavish, but I called him by a nickname to ease confusion. His nickname was "Soap." I had called him that for as long as I can remember becuase he always smelled good, atleast before he became a teenager. After easily outsmarting the opponent in a game of football, we head to lunch. The other kids could never grasp the fact that sports were not about physical ability as mush as they were about tactic.
Lunch was the only place in school where I had time to talk to my friends, so I savored it. It was another generic lunch until a man ran through the doors yelling something in Russian. The entire room went silent in shock as he pulled of his jacket to reveal a metallic board on his chest. My first thought was bomb so I grabbed Soap by his shoulders and yelled "GET DOWN!"
Before I knew it, we were thrown a good 10 feet along with the table. With a throbbing pain in my stomach and a ringing in my ears, I struggled to get up. I used strength I didn't know I had to push the table off my body. Soap was unconscious so I pulled him out with me. He had a large bloodstain on his shirt. There was fire all around us and I had a feeling of disbelief upon me. I kept my head low and I dragged us down the room. Smoke filled my lungs with every breath and I was moving step by step with only one hope. I've read about survival instincts and every single one told me to let him go and run. I couldn't do that, I will not do that! With vigor in my heart I climbed on through the burning hallways to search for an exit that wasn't on fire. After minutes of endless pain I made a dicision that if I didn't try my luck I would die. With the last of my strength I found a window and started hitting it with rubble. Fueling every hit with hope to survive, eventually it broke. It was a good 12 feet but it was my only chance. With that I grabbed Soap, slung him over my back and jumped.
"Help!" I cried with a strained voice at the firefighters who surrounded the building.
With no response I grabbed Soap and crawled to the flashing lights of the truck. After 6 meters my body stopped and I started to lose vision.
In the last seconds of being awake I saw a man running towards us and I whispered to Soap's unconscious body 3 words that I will never forget, "we...will...survive."