I had a mission. A death wish, you might say. But this was going to stop, and it was going to end with me.
The two sides were poised for battle, an array of weapons at their side. On two hills they stood, ready to fight, ready to die.
A cry was heard among the fighters, "Charge!" No one knew who yelled it, maybe no one. Anti—fic guns were aimed, ready for the first flinch from either side of the hills. No one moved, no one breathed.
Now was the moment. Now I could stop it, would stop it, at any cost. I had to stop it now, or it might never stop.
I ran into the middle of the hills. "Stop!" The two armies looked confused.
"AniMajor, this is not your war," Forlay yelled, trying to get me to move, but nothing came of it.
A bullet from D.M.P.'s army whizzed by, hitting the ground harmlessly. As if automated, both sides fired on each other, on me. I was scraped several times, but I kept going over in my head the ideas that kept my stories alive.
Jake goes to the doctor. The Watchers meet others. Mulder was abducted, not Samantha. SG-1 has a perfect mission. Animorphs, stingrays, and the bottom of the ocean. What if Cassie left for good? The real Animorphs… Spanish… Yeerks win…Anim…
A bullet hit me fatally in the back of the head, and I could no longer maintain my thought.The armies separated: they were losing men. Forlay and D.M.P. and a few others were the only ones left. This wasn't a battle, but a massacre. "Oh, my God." D.M.P. and Forlay looked to where I had stood, and they found I hadn't returned home. "Is she…?" No one wanted an answer.
War had its prices to pay, and no one had known until it was too late.*
