Rasheed's Rampage
Part I: Protection
Quatre's throat was dry. He was as thirsty as it gets out in the Middle Eastern desert. Sweat tricked from his sideburn and onto the cockpit floor. The fifteen year old waited outside the small house of Rasheed's, inside his Gundam Sandrock. With Rasheed fighting a war with his troops, the least he could do was protect his wife and kids. All was calm and peaceful, nothing was happening.
But still he felt that something was wrong; he could feel it inside himself. The sand gleamed, but there was no moonlight. The gleam went away, then came back, closer to the door. At first, Quatre assumed that he was hallucinating; it wasn't odd for such a thing to happen in this heat. But then the gleam moved to the house, and he heard a door slam shut.
A split second scream came from the house and Quatre now knew that something was terribly wrong. He didn't know what to do; yet he had to do something. Another muffled scream. The gleam had disappeared. The gleam was a dagger. A final yell and then a plea for help.
Quatre's head felt like it was getting crushed. He couldn't do anything. More sweat trickling. He had just let three innocent people die, and all he could do was sit there. He yelled within the cockpit. He couldn't control himself. The world started spinning before his eyes and then…
A flash of yellow- orange light and finally everything went black.
****************************************
Quatre opened his eyes. He was still rather queasy from last night's experiences. It seemed impossible to lift his head.
When he finally did get his head up, he looked around, to find himself out in the middle of nowhere. Beneath the Gundam lay pieces of what appeared to be scrap metal and wood. In the middle of the heap lay four bodies, none of them were moving. There was a long, thin line of blood flowing around three of the bodies.
And then it hit him. On the ground in front of him lay the scraps of Rasheed's home. The bodies were of his family, and of the person with the dagger.
He jumped from his Sandrock and examined the area. It was terrible. The sand had turned a red brownish color because of the blood. The wood and metal were piled on the top of a sand dune. Quatre felt guilt lurching inside him. A tear rolled down his cheek. He was the reason that Rasheed's family died.
There were cheers in the distance. The soldiers were coming home. He could see a big mob through the legs of Sandrock. He looked up at the Gundam, and noticed something odd. Steam was coming out of the beam sub-machinegun. The cross crusher (his heat shorters, shield, and boosters combined) was missing .
The cheering mob was moving closer. "Hey Quatre!" It was the familiar voice of Rasheed. "We won, my friend, we won!!" He laughed.
They were just approaching Quatre's Gundam when they noticed him kneeling on the ground. "Hey Quatre what's the ---" He stopped short at the sight of the wreck on the ground in front of him. The cheering stopped suddenly. "Quatre, what happened? How did it happen?" He broke down sobbing.
"Rasheed, I'm sorry," said Quatre quietly. "I don't what happened. I think I might have passed out. All I ever saw was a flash of light before it went black. I'm sorry."
At this, Rasheed got up, wiped his tears, and mumbled just so Quatre could hear him, "It's not your fault, not at all." He got up and ran off into the nothingness of the desert.
*********************************
Over the next few weeks, Quatre noticed that Rasheed was spending a lot of time polishing his mobile suit, as though it was a trophy. He wasn't talking much to Quatre, and didn't help out around the house anymore. Quatre understood Rasheed's feelings though. So he didn't bug him about it.
During this time Quatre was doing some thinking about what had happened. His cross crusher was back, and Quatre had developed a theory about the incident. He figured that while he passed out his head might of landed on the controls to fire the cross crusher and the beam sub-machinegun.
Rasheed frequently went out into the desert and practiced using his mobile suit. He shot missiles and guns and handled different types swords. He was getting excellent in handling the weapons and using them.
One day, Rasheed invited Quatre to his new house for a cup of coffee. The two discussed the regular things weather and sports. Then casually, Rasheed brought up mobile suits. "Oh, speaking of mobile suits," he said, "go get yours; we have a little unfinished business to take care of." He laughed menacingly.
Authors Note: I'm planning on having seven parts to this. Keep watching for other parts.
Part I: Protection
Quatre's throat was dry. He was as thirsty as it gets out in the Middle Eastern desert. Sweat tricked from his sideburn and onto the cockpit floor. The fifteen year old waited outside the small house of Rasheed's, inside his Gundam Sandrock. With Rasheed fighting a war with his troops, the least he could do was protect his wife and kids. All was calm and peaceful, nothing was happening.
But still he felt that something was wrong; he could feel it inside himself. The sand gleamed, but there was no moonlight. The gleam went away, then came back, closer to the door. At first, Quatre assumed that he was hallucinating; it wasn't odd for such a thing to happen in this heat. But then the gleam moved to the house, and he heard a door slam shut.
A split second scream came from the house and Quatre now knew that something was terribly wrong. He didn't know what to do; yet he had to do something. Another muffled scream. The gleam had disappeared. The gleam was a dagger. A final yell and then a plea for help.
Quatre's head felt like it was getting crushed. He couldn't do anything. More sweat trickling. He had just let three innocent people die, and all he could do was sit there. He yelled within the cockpit. He couldn't control himself. The world started spinning before his eyes and then…
A flash of yellow- orange light and finally everything went black.
****************************************
Quatre opened his eyes. He was still rather queasy from last night's experiences. It seemed impossible to lift his head.
When he finally did get his head up, he looked around, to find himself out in the middle of nowhere. Beneath the Gundam lay pieces of what appeared to be scrap metal and wood. In the middle of the heap lay four bodies, none of them were moving. There was a long, thin line of blood flowing around three of the bodies.
And then it hit him. On the ground in front of him lay the scraps of Rasheed's home. The bodies were of his family, and of the person with the dagger.
He jumped from his Sandrock and examined the area. It was terrible. The sand had turned a red brownish color because of the blood. The wood and metal were piled on the top of a sand dune. Quatre felt guilt lurching inside him. A tear rolled down his cheek. He was the reason that Rasheed's family died.
There were cheers in the distance. The soldiers were coming home. He could see a big mob through the legs of Sandrock. He looked up at the Gundam, and noticed something odd. Steam was coming out of the beam sub-machinegun. The cross crusher (his heat shorters, shield, and boosters combined) was missing .
The cheering mob was moving closer. "Hey Quatre!" It was the familiar voice of Rasheed. "We won, my friend, we won!!" He laughed.
They were just approaching Quatre's Gundam when they noticed him kneeling on the ground. "Hey Quatre what's the ---" He stopped short at the sight of the wreck on the ground in front of him. The cheering stopped suddenly. "Quatre, what happened? How did it happen?" He broke down sobbing.
"Rasheed, I'm sorry," said Quatre quietly. "I don't what happened. I think I might have passed out. All I ever saw was a flash of light before it went black. I'm sorry."
At this, Rasheed got up, wiped his tears, and mumbled just so Quatre could hear him, "It's not your fault, not at all." He got up and ran off into the nothingness of the desert.
*********************************
Over the next few weeks, Quatre noticed that Rasheed was spending a lot of time polishing his mobile suit, as though it was a trophy. He wasn't talking much to Quatre, and didn't help out around the house anymore. Quatre understood Rasheed's feelings though. So he didn't bug him about it.
During this time Quatre was doing some thinking about what had happened. His cross crusher was back, and Quatre had developed a theory about the incident. He figured that while he passed out his head might of landed on the controls to fire the cross crusher and the beam sub-machinegun.
Rasheed frequently went out into the desert and practiced using his mobile suit. He shot missiles and guns and handled different types swords. He was getting excellent in handling the weapons and using them.
One day, Rasheed invited Quatre to his new house for a cup of coffee. The two discussed the regular things weather and sports. Then casually, Rasheed brought up mobile suits. "Oh, speaking of mobile suits," he said, "go get yours; we have a little unfinished business to take care of." He laughed menacingly.
Authors Note: I'm planning on having seven parts to this. Keep watching for other parts.