English Short Story

Prologue

Perspective: Bill

I sat in the red leather chair. I flipped through a worn out magazine. I tapped my foot impatiently as I fidgeted. No matter what I could not find a comfortable position. My eyes darted. Where was he? Normally he was here by now.

Foot steps resounded through the small house. I stood up and breathed deeply. He walked into the room and smiled.

"Hey, there." He was always excited to see me.

"Hey," I said as I trailed off and became very awkward.

"Um..... is something wrong?"

"Sort of. I'm going to......."

"Yes?"

"Um..... I'm going to join the......"

"Please just tell me." I could tell by the look in his eye that he already knew.

I did not answer his question; I just arched my head downward toward the beige carpet.

"No......"

"Yes, and there is nothing you can do to stop me, John."

"Come on! Be sensible! How is that going to help anyone besides yourself."

"You should know more than anybody that all I want to do is help others."

"But you don't! That's just the excuse you're making! You just want revenge because of-"

"No!" I cut him off in mid-sentence. "That is not why!"

He continued talking anyways, "Because of mom; because she committed suicide after-"

I turned and walked past him.

"Where are you going!? You can't run from me every time I bring up the subject of mom! You can't hide from your past forever!"

I slammed the door in his face as I left his house.

6 Years Later

May 3, 2012

Hour of Day: 13

I grasped the weapon in my hand. I ran through the dirt and smoke. Peoples screams echoed through the air. The man standing beside me fell to the ground and screamed. There was no time to help him. I jumped into the hole that lay immediately beside me. I climbed onto my hands and knees. As I crawled I heard someone land on the ground behind me. I spun around and pointed the weapon at them. Just Tom.

"Tom! Be careful I nearly killed you!"

He glared back at me and turned as he ran past me. He ran even further through the maze of intertwined trenches.

"Tom!"

As he ran past me I noticed a large bump under his shirt.

"Tom!" I yelled as I ran after him.

He was running towards one of our tanks.

"Tom!? What are you doing? You aren't allowed to operate one of those!"

He did not answer.

He climbed out of the trench and ran even closer to the nearest tank. He was acting strangely so I climbed up the wall of the trench and ran after him.

He stood by one of the tank and looked at me with guilty eyes.

"What are you doing," I paused and had a feeling I knew. "Tom, don't you dare!"

He shook as beads of sweat fell down his face. Sure, people were normally nervous on a

battlefield, but not nearly this nervous. Well, maybe this nervous, but not this kind of nervous.

"Tom! Please, be sensible!" Oh my, I was beginning to sound like my brother.

"Sorry, but you know that they have my family."

"Don't give in! They won't let them free even if you do this!"

"You're probably right, but I'm willing to die in the hope they will stay true to their word."

"But they won't!"

"I'm really sorry, Bill, but this is for my family. You, of all people, should understand."

Then he put his hand behind his back and pushed down.

The earth shook with the resounding sound of a deadly explosion.

I sighed. Just when you think you can trust someone they go and do that.

May 4, 2012

Hour of Day: 14

"He took out our largest tank!" The captain spoke in his usual angry snarl of a voice.

I sighed. "It was not my fault." I paused. "After all, what did you expect me to do?"

"Well, I expect you to do your job!"

"My job! I always do my job! You think I shoot people out of joy!"

"War isn't all about shooting people. It's what protects our whole country!"

"To be quite honest sir. I think that's just your excuse for not being good at solving your own problems with out violence."

"Well, tell me this. If you're thinking that way, then why in the world did you join the U.S. Navy."

"I told you, I have my personal reasons."

"To be quite honest with you, Bill, I don't care about a vendetta you have with some terrorist scum."

"Well, I never asked you too care."

"As a soldier in this battle you should have shot Tom when you knew about the bomb. You failed to do that."

"But, what if he wasn't going to blow up the tank! Then I would have killed a fellow soldier because I had a hunch!"

"From what you told me he made it very clear what his intentions were."

"He was my friend alright? You don't shoot a friend because of a hunch."

Another man barged through the door of the small office.

"I told you not to disturb me when I'm busy!" the captain yelled at the new member of our little discussion here.

"Sorry, Sir, we have another threat from the terrorists."

The captain swore as he got up and stomped out the door of his small office. I stood up and followed after him.

May 4, 2012

Hour of Day: 15

"Once again you refuse to acknowledge our certain terms," spoke the television screen in front of me. "As leader of this organization I can say that we will be upon your precious country within the hour. However, if you comply to our demands then we shall leave you be."

The captain swore as he ended the message the terrorist organization had just sent us.

"They really expect us to give them three atom bombs!" He swore once again as he pounded his fist against the table in front of him. "Where did they even get the idea that we would ever do that!?"

I spoke slowly and carefully, "Well, we better do something soon. If we don't take their base out soon we're done for."

"That's the only smart thing you've said all day," the captain spoke with a small smile on his scarred face. "We do indeed need to do something about the terrorist threat." He bent his head downward, "They seem to be turning out own soldiers against us."

"So, what's your plan?" I asked.

"We're going to send every one of our soldiers out to their base today." He paused as he stood up out of his chair and paced around the room. "Tonight this war ends."

May 4, 2012

Hour of Day: 17

I sat in the large aircraft.

"We're immediately above the enemy base," the pilot spoke. "Get ready to drop in."

"You ready, Bill?" Spoke the voice of one of my fellow soldiers who sat right beside me, his name was Albert. Albert was one of the few people in the war that I had got to know well.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I replied.

"Good."

A large area opened in the floor of the aircraft.

"Go!" screamed the pilot.

Albert jumped then I quickly followed. The world spun around me and the twenty others that had jumped from the same aircraft as I.

Around us more air crafts dropped soldiers. Thousands of our U.S. Navy forces were dropping from the sky.

I pulled the parachute that was tucked in the bag connected to my back.

I landed on the roof of the enemy base. Ten other soldiers landed on the same planed of the roof as I had. It was an extremely large building. Rust coated the metal walls of the base. It was amazing it had stayed so well concealed for so long. We would have never even known about this base if it hadn't been for a strange transmission from one of the terrorists. The terrorist had messaged us from their base; however, we wondered if that person was really helping us. They had made it so easy to find out where the message had come from.

I pulled a small bomb out of my backpack and stuck it on the roof.

"Get away!" I yelled at the other hundred strong that stood around me. The captain had entrusted me with that small piece of the plan. I would blow up a small section of the plane of the roof that I landed on, allowing our forces to enter their base. I slammed the bomb down onto a piece of the roof that appeared weaker and more rusted then the other parts.

People scattered like field mice being chased by a lion. The explosion resounded throughout the air. The bombs booming sound quieted after a short amount of time. My ears continued to ring however.

People were already climbing into the enemy base through the small hole my bomb had created in their colossal base. We were not trying to be stealthy with our plan. We would just demolish everything and everybody in the base from the inside out.

I jumped down the hole and rolled as I clumsily hit the ground. I climbed back up to my feet and raised my gun. I wanted to be ready for any attack from the terrorists. I noticed in that moment that the walls were incredibly small. I heard a strange noise; like a train was chugging towards us. A cloud of black smoke drifted around the corner that wounded around to another hallway. Then a large machine rounded the corner following quickly after the smoke. It had a giant slab of tubular metal attached to the front of it. The tube covered the area from wall to wall. It was advancing towards us. Strange, blood coated the rolling metal piece. Then I realized that they had trapped us. We were all done for. There was no way out and the gigantic steam roller was advancing towards us quickly. Everyone was going to be killed by these machines. There was no driver; it appeared to be remote controlled. The sound of guns unloading on the machine screamed through the air. I joined in shooting and shooting. It was flattening people that were right in front of my face. I heard there terrified screams as there bodies were destroyed under the menacing machine.

I though it was over in that moment, but all of a sudden a panel of the wall beside me opened up and I heard the click of a button. Another door grated open with speed directly across from the other opening. A figure leaped out of the smaller opening and pushed me out of the way. We slid across the rusty floor through the other doorway. Then the door closed quickly behind us.

I heard the steam roller pass by us. I was safe; everyone else on the other hand.

I stood up and looked at my saviour.

"Long time no see," spoke the silhouetted figure.

"How?" I spoke out of surprise and shock.

March 12, 1988

Hour of Day: 7

Perspective: Josh

I ran, through bullets and haze. Bullet shells fell to the ground in front of me. A bullet grazed the side of my face. I ran even faster then before. Every step I took felt like a lifetime. I fell to the ground as a bullet grazed my face. Leaving a bloody trail mark where it had past by, seemingly unnoticed. My legs felt non-existent; all I could feel was the jabbing pain in my back. All I could feel was the wight of the bomb attached to my back. They had camera's in the pack and could blow it up themselves at any moment if they wanted to. They had melted it into my flesh. The pack was now a part of me. This pack would be the end of me. I was doing this for one of my sons. I was doing it for John. I would have also done this for Bill, but he wasn't the one having his life threatened by a group of terrorists. I had not believed they really had John when they told me they did. However, they clearly did have him; they even showed me an actual video of him being beaten with batons and guns. I cried as I advanced towards the large tank that transported our largest and most powerful weapon. It was called the Omega Bomb. It could easily demolish a terrorist groups base in one daring swoop. They had told me destroy the weapon you carry or we will destroy you and your son.

I had not choice. I leaped towards the tank and pushed the large button on my back.

My world faded as the bomb attached to me blew up in a flurry of red and white flames. The smoke trailed off of the bombs victims.

My life ended in that moment.

But I went out knowing one thing. I had died for my family. I had died for my son, John.

To me there was no shame in that.

May 4, 2012

Hour of Day: 17

Perspective: Bill

"How?" I repeated.

"I told you not to join the army." He said as he chuckled, but his chuckle quickly transformed into a sigh of sorrow.

"But, why are you here?"

"Don't you see yet?" he muttered under his breath. "I'm part of the terrorist organization."

"What?" I would have expected myself to be yelling, but it was such an unexpected revelation that I whispered hoarsely to myself and closed my eyes.

"I-" he stuttered. "You know that I always thought that he favoured you......" he said as he trailed off.

"You thought that, but it wasn't true," I said with my head arched downwards.

"I know that now!" he snapped. "I know that know......" he repeated as he broke down and began to sob.

"What happened to you?" I asked.

"Lots happened to me....." he said through misty tear covered eyes.

March 11, 1988

Hour of Day: 23

Perspective: John

I walked into the small room that appeared as if it would and could be easily used as a torture area.

"Alright, let's do this quickly." I spoke. "Don't hit me too hard though;just make it look worse then it is," that phrase was an order.

I sat down in the chair and watched as one of the terrorists tied a large, thick rope around the chair. Thus, strapping me to it.

I watched another place a video camera. The video camera was facing towards me.

I watched as the man in front of me lifted his baton up above his head and bring it crashing down on my skull.

I yelped. They were hitting me too hard!

Then another blow; this time from the blunt handle of a knife.

Then one more; this one from the wide, back end of a gun. It slammed into the side of my jaw. I heard the sound of it snap flow through the room.

One of the terrorists quickly walked towards the camera and pushed the button that would turn it off and save the footage.

"Untie me! You fools were hitting me far too hard!"

"Sorry, I guess we sort of went to town on you."

I swore under my breath. "Just make sure you show him the footage."

March 12, 1988

Hour of Day: 1

I smoothly walked into the room my father was being held in.

"Hello," I spoke in a deep voice. I needed to mask my own; if my plan were to show a true outcome he could not know it was me speaking to him at this moment.

"What do you want from me? Just go ahead and kill me!" his eyes darted upwards and gave me a piercing glare. It was almost as if he could see straight through my black ski-mask and into my heart.

I was taken aback by this gaze. "You, you, um......" I paused, standing up straight once again. "We need you to do something for us. We need you to blow up your own tank."

He cracked me a small, toothless smile. No teeth. They had beat him. I had told them not to!

"You really think I would do anything for you. I would rather shoot myself then even help you in the slightest way." He spoke this with such hate in his voice.

"You might change your mind after you see this."

I rolled a small television in front of him and placed the tape of me, his son, was getting beaten.

I pressed the play button. His eyes widened as he watched in horror. I wasn't watching the video. I was watching his face. Could I really go through with this!?

"If you don't......." I was trailing off again. "If you don't, um; if you don't run into your own piece of the battlefield and blow one of your tanks to high heavens then you will never see your son alive again."

He only paused for a split second. "Fine, I'll do anything you want." He said this with a downcast face. He was sad. Sad for me.

I chocked back tears. "Alright, suit him up."

Two large-muscled terrorists waltzed into the room carrying a welding torch and a large package. The package contained a fake bomb. This bomb would not blow up if he pushed the large red button that was supposed to detonate the bomb. But, what were they doing with the welding torch?

"What are you doing with that torch?" I asked with a questioning tone to my voice.

I saw the white flames lick against my father's skin.

"What are you doing!? I said not to do anything of that sort!" I screamed to them at the top of my lungs.

One turned silently and slammed his fist onto the top of my head. I fainted then.

May 4, 2012

Hour of Day: 12

Perspective: Bill

"Why!? Why would you do that!" John had just finished telling me about the welding torch and the video and the bomb.

"I haven't finished yet!" he snapped at me with a surprisingly vicious, milky look to his eyes.

"It was supposed to be a fake bomb. The terrorists did not give him a fake bomb. They gave him a real one. The whole thing was just for me to test how much he really loved me. Oh, how foolish I was," he fought against himself, trying not to let the water-works let loose and run down his face.

"So, you killed dad because you wanted to see if he was willing to die for you!?"

He simply nodded, he looked as if he had no words to describe the situation he had got himself in to.

"But why tell me this now!? What's the point!?"

He reached into his back pocket. His hand returned into the open air grasping a brown remote with red buttons; the red buttons were covered by glass boxes on hinges so that the buttons push down without being obviously pushed down on.

"This," he spoke in a hushed voice, "Is the remote that controls a giant bomb that is hidden in the middle of this complex building. If you push this button," he said as he pointed to the extremely large, dusty red button, "This button is your key to winning the war. Simply push it and the terrorists leaders are wiped out. No more war. With this simple push of a button you've won."

"Why don't you just push the button?" I was becoming impatient with my brothers way of speaking.

"I thought you would like to get your revenge."

I tugged the remote out of his hand a twirled it in my own. "You bet your life I would."

"Sorry, brother, I can't believe what I've become."

I stood and wondered what he was doing as he pulled the pistol that was attached to his right thigh out of its holster and cocked it.

"What are you doing, John?" I asked.

"Sorry, but you have to admit," he said as he shook his head, "I really don't deserve to live."

The trigger clicked. The bullet flew.

My brother fell to the hard, rusty, reddish-brown ground as he died. Taken by his own bullet.

I looked down at the remote again. First I would get out of here and then I would blow this place to the sky. I also needed to get any remaining survivors out of this place.

I heard a sudden buzzing noise in my ear. My head set.

"Hello?" it spoke in a very static voice, "It's me, the captain, are you there Bill."

I pushed the small button located behind the lobe of my left ear. "Yes, I'm here."

"Thank God, your alive! Everyone else is dead. Or at least they won't answer our calls. We don't know what happened, but they somehow killed every one!"

"Oh, so every one is gone?"

"Yes, get out of there, Bill, it's a miracle your even still alive!"

"O.K." I said as I flipped a smaller glass panel on the remote opened and pushed the button labelled 'DOOR'. "I'm leaving now."

I stepped through the door. The onslaught of destruction and death the steam roller had brought was even greater than I had expected. They had executed their plan perfectly. They had created the hallways all the same length across. Like a road that a steam roller could perfectly ride around until it rounded everybody up and crushed them underneath itself. No escapes besides that room I had just been in with John.

Then I heard it. The black smoke rose above and around my head. How was it that close to me? Then I realized that the steam roller was directly behind me. How well armoured was that thing!? None of our soldiers had been able to take it out!

Where could I find a way out!? I heard it chug up to me from behind. Every fraction of a second seemed like forever in that moment. There was not hope of me living; none whatsoever.

However, I still wasn't going down without a fight.

I ran backwards, away from the slowly advancing mechanical menace. I fired and fired at it with my machine gun. The bullets clanged against the steel outer torso of the death machine. I continued to fire; reloaded when needed and then click. I was out of ammo.

I was out of any weapons to use. All my fellow and fallen soldier's weapons had been destroyed by the monster. Crushed, just like their own bones and lives. Under that thing. What kind of sick, twisted individual would slaughter us like this. It was completely barbaric. No excuses.

I continued to run away from it. The blood-caked rolling pin was like a spinning wheel of destruction. I kept running and then there was no were left to run. No where left to hide. No where left to do anything, but die.

But as I said before; I'm not going down without a fight.

I lifted the remote and fumbled with the glass piece that covered the button for a moment. I got it open. I had only seconds. It was advancing. It was only inches in front of my face.

Then BANG.

I felt the burn of hundreds of degrees of heat pounding against my flesh.

I had pushed the button.

I had ended the war.

We had ended the war.

I had died to get my revenge.