They say that death by a bullet to the head is quick and painless. I thought I would find out that day. But I had been spared. Saved from what I believed to be the inevitable. And at the time, I had felt lucky. But now, I never will.


Chester, Pennsylvania, 16:09 4th March 2037


I expected to see a flash of black when the bang rang in my ears like a bell. But I still saw the ground before my eyes, and my knees. That meant that the bang hadn't come from the rifles. I lifted my head just enough to see the chaos in front of me. People were running and screaming, and there was indistinct shouting. I looked off into the distance and saw smoke rising from the outer wall. I felt more fear then ever before, alongside confusion. My adrenaline was pumping, and my legs begged me to move and run. A familiar voice beside me stopped me from doing so.

"Jason!" I turned my head wildly, my eyes still wide with surprise and confusion to see Marcus shouting to me. "We need to go! Now, while they aren't looking!" He stood and ran, his hands still cuffed at the front. I knew how brave he was, but for some unknown reason, I found him to be very calm. I was frozen for a second, then I tried to run, forgetting I was kneeling on the ground. I fell forward flat on my face and sprawled out. It took a few seconds to recollect myself, then I ran, following the same path Marcus took.

I bolted off the stage, my eyes darting around. The KPA took no notice of me, and were focused on rounding everyone else up. I didn't care about that though, or at least my legs didn't. They did not stop for a moment, or even to take a breather. That wasn't until I reached the safety of the alleyways. I looked one way, then the other. I had lost the guards. But I had also lost Marcus. I stumbled over and rested my back against the brick wall behind me, holding myself up on my knees with my palms. My heart was racing, and I could hardly breathe. I thought I would pass out right there from exhaustion.

"Dammit" I silently cursed as I heard footsteps coming by. I leaped to the dumpster across from me and hid on the side. I couldn't see who it was, but I heard their heavy footsteps. It sounded like they had boots, so I knew it wasn't Marcus. He wore worn sneakers. I waited until I was sure they were gone, then ran the opposite way, deeper into the darkness of the night. I stopped a few more times to find my way and catch my breath. Soon, the alleys came to an end. I quickly poked my head into the street. I recognized it as a town close to the center, so I hadn't gotten far. It was clear from any movement. That meant that either no one must have made this far, or they had already gotten further. So I took my chance, and ran across. I reached halfway across when I heard a voice that struck fear in me.

"You! Stop!" I stopped where I was, and saw a bright light coming towards me from the right. I was frozen to the spot as it came closer. I knew it was a flashlight, and as it came closer, I saw a dark silhouette in it.

"What are you doing?" A little voice in my head asked. "Get over here." I was suddenly confused. What did my brain just say? Get over where? That's when I realized that it had come from my prior destination. I had to squint to see the shape of a man in the darkness. "You wanna be caught?" I didn't answer, and instead ran over to him. We both hid as the soldier passed, and as it turned out, he was chasing someone else. Once they were gone, my savior leaned to the side and scanned the street.

Now that I had a closer look at him, he was an older man, at least in his fifties. His forehead had a mass of wrinkles lining it, as did his cheeks. His chin had a small stubble of black hair with a mix of grey. On his head he had a baseball cap, hiding his hair. His clothing consisted of a green camouflage jacket and cargo pants. He reminded me a lot of a homeless old man who used to come by, and my mother always helped him. He used to tell me stories of the world before the occupation. Most of it I never believed. He once told me about native tribes who used to live here, but I never believed. He never got to finish though, because he was executed the day after.

"Thanks for saving me." He didn't answer me, and only looked me in the eyes with his own one eye. After half a minute of silence, he spoke.

"What were ya thinking, standing there like daft gimp! You could've been killed!" he scolded me, and I noticed his Irish accent. I looked at the ground in shame after he finished. He was right, I had been stupid. "We'd better get. They are comin for us." He charged into the darkness, and I waited, thinking of what to do. I chose to follow, and luckily for me, he hadn't gotten too far.

I wanted to say 'thanks' again, but kept my mouth shut. We traversed more another maze of quick turns and dark alleys, occasionally hiding. I asked not a single question, for I believed he would not answer. However, a while on, I felt the need to get some answers.

"Do you know what the hell is going on?" I asked, my sense and my old self starting to come back. But I was still scared of being caught, and that added a little shake to my voice. He didn't answer at first, and gave a signal to stop. I stopped, almost walking right into his back and falling on him, then a KPA truck passed by. I hadn't heard gunfire for a while now, so it must have meant that the battle was over. I looked up at the sky, and guessed it had been about fifteen or twenty minutes since I had escaped from the chaos. Once it was out of sight, he opened his mouth to speak.

"We...we're rescuing you. So stay close!" he said, though it sounded more like an order with his gruff tone of voice. And the pause didn't make me so sure of his word. I nodded and when he began moving forward, I was right on his back. I hadn't figured it out until he told me that they were 'rescuing' us. He was a rebel. And the attack had been by the Resistance.

I was about to shout out in gratitude for coming, because I had always hoped they would come, but I held my words back when we heard something behind us.

"Run!" was the next thing he shouted, and we both bolted onto the road as two soldiers tailed us. We narrowly missed a truck, and it stopped behind us. Next thing that happened, we heard shouts behind us, and several clicks as they readied their weapons. "Get down!" the old man ordered as he reached down to his side. That's when I noticed the pistol.

I had only seen that type of pistol a few times. It was a Colt M1911. Marcus's brother had told him about it once or twice, among other old weapons. It's black metal shell glinted in their flashlights that shone towards us. There was a dark look in his eye as he drew it, then he fired it, his face now expressionless. The bang filled my ears, and did not seem to leave them. I thought I had become deaf, and as it left, it came again as another bullet left the barrel to lodge into a soldiers leg. I heard their cry of agony, and did not stop as they began to fire back.

We turned a corner with them still chasing us, and before they rounded it, I was pulled into an open doorway. The rebel pulled me back to the lounge room of the empty building and forced me to kneel down into cover. The KPA passed us by without giving a single glance towards the building. I was about to stand, but he held me down.

"Stay down" he instructed quietly, pointing to the window. I followed his still finger to the window. I felt thankful once more as one more passed by. But this one did not follow the others. This one instead stepped inside, rifle in hand. One move as we would be dead. Holding my breath, I peeked over the top of the lounge. And I picked a bad time. His light swept over and spotted my eyes. But he must not have seen them because it kept going. Eventually, he turned and left. I sighed with relief, air flowing back into my lungs. The rebel, however, stayed frozen. His face hadn't changed a bit. It was still that cold, emotionless face it was before. In a way, it worried me. He reminded me of a killer, a man with no remorse. A killer...like Hyun Min.

I suddenly fell back in surprise and fear as the man's face changed to the captain's, a cruel and sadistic grin on his face. His eyes went right through me, staring at my soul and instilling fear in me. In his eyes, I could see death. A gun to my back, and a bullet coming out of the other side.

"What's wrong with ya?" a voice asked. At that same moment, the face was replaced by the old rebel. I shook my head to clear it and attempted to stand up. Though before I got halfway up, he quickly pushed me down, then he raised his handgun and fired. My head turned left to see the same soldier from before. I watched his body go limp and fall to the ground. But at the same time, I heard an anguished cry above me, and watched the old man fall on his side, holding his leg. He muttered some profanity while he lay on his back, a hand on his wound and the other still holding his weapon.

"Oh shit" I murmured in shock of all that had happened in only a few seconds. I crawled over to him and felt sick as I saw his bubbling blood seeping through his fingers. "Uh...uh...what do I do?" I asked no one in particular in my panic. My question was answered by the man.

"Leave me." I wasn't sure if I had heard right, because it sounded like he wanted me to leave him.

"What?" I asked again.

"I said leave me, ya idiot!" he shouted at me. I wanted to leave, but my conscience decided against it. I realized that I couldn't leave him there. He had saved me, and now it was my turn to return the favor. And so I decided to save him. I pulled him up by his arm and hoisted him over my shoulder. He made no complaint, and only managed a small grunt. His arms dangled down, and he barely had his head raised. My plan was to carry him to safety. I guessed he would have others waiting for him, so all he had to do was guide me to them.

"Where do we go?" I asked him. He mumbled something, then repeated it.

"Th...the wall" he groaned, then went limp again. I didn't bother to talk back, because it seemed that he was out of it. I took it slow and steady, careful where I carried him and watched his head near walls. His blood trickled down and over my chest, so I placed a hand over the wound to try and stop the bleeding. The blood was wet and sticky against my palm, and my stomach tightened. But when I heard the indistinct shouting behind us, I picked up the pace. I rounded corners with ease, and soon reached an easily recognizable neighborhood. If I was right, there was a direct route to the wall where the explosion had happened, and started down the path. However, I stopped when he mumbled again.

"What?" I waited, and he soon answered.

"L..left. Go left." I nodded and turned left. The road led to the bakery close to my home, and I found myself at an intersection. "Right." I went right until I reached the end of the road again. "Right, then...then left." I followed his directions for a few more turns. It wasn't until I was close to a part of the wall when they caught up.

"Halt!" one of the guards shouted. I went to my left, narrowly dodging the hailfire behind us. I did not stop or slow down, knowing that death would catch to me if I did.

"Stop, or you will be shot!" Little bit too late for that, I thought to myself. Why did they even bother saying that if they were going to shoot me anyway. I kept on going until I was stopped by the wall in my way. And there was no opening.

"What? I thought you said to here?!" I claimed, feeling betrayed and defeated. I felt that this was the time to surrender, and turned around to face my fate. However, the old man raised a hand pointed to the wall.

"T..there." I followed his finger to see a door that seemed to be hidden in the wall. My hope was restored and I reached for the handle, then opened the metal door. Beyond was a black van. My legs carried me to it and moved my spare hand up to knock, only to find myself staring down the barrel of a rifle.

"Who are you?" the handler of the weapon asked. I dared not to look at them, afraid that if I moved, they would fire in an instant. But then, there was a gasp and the owner hopped out and looked at the man over my shoulder. "Dammit! What happened!"

"He was shot saving me" I answered. The person sighed.

"Get him inside. I'll cover you." I obeyed and stepped in, resting the old man on the floor of the back of the van. The person outside came in and closed it, then knocked on the metal separating us from the driver's seat. "Go!" There was a voice on the other side, and the vehicle began moving. I looked out of the window of the back doors and watched Chester disappear from sight, smoke still rising from the wall.


Hello readers! I hope you have enjoyed this story so far, because I plan for it to be my longest yet! So expect another chapter, and see you all then :)