Chapter 6

Since my dad died, there's only been one thing that this place left for me; the war. I was only seventeen, but before my dad got sick I was trained to be at least his age. If you're wondering how I got out of the country at 17, let's just say I wasn't the only one. Many people offered their sympathy and pity when they heard of my dad's condition and I'm not proud but its true; I took a slight advantage of them.

When I enlisted, I knew I was too young, not even a full adult. I didn't care, I knew I could be a part of the war; that I'd survive. Therefore I wasn't surprised I was summoned to the war center.

A man was waiting for me when I got there. He was tall, muscular, and of course tough-looking. He was dressed for combat, and he had a buzz cut. He had a toothpick in his mouth and a scar running the width of his neck, I'd hate to think how he got it. "Mr. Valdez?" He rumbled.

"Yes sir." I stood taller and held out my hand out for him to take. I wasn't going to show him I was afraid, because I needed to show him I wasn't afraid. He glanced at my hand but didn't take it. His facial expression resembled a stone. I kept my hand there, to show him he was not going to treat me like dirt or intimidate me. Finally he took my hand, and I swear I saw a flash of amusement in his eyes.

"Do you have any idea why I called you here?"

"Yes sir, I understand that I am too young to be a part of this war, but sir I-"

"You what? You think you are better than the full grown men and women trained to kill you in this war?" He yelled at me. Any trace of amusement in his eyes was replaced by fury.

I didn't flinch; in fact I looked as steadily in his eyes as I could. "Sir, my father served in your war and-"

He interrupted, yet again. "What difference is that going to make? Your father wasn't 17 when he enlisted."

"I was getting to that, sir. You see, my father trained me before he died." I willed my voice not to crack at the last part.

"Enough for you to think you could survive out there?"

"I believe, sir, I could be serving front lines" I died a little inside, quoting my dad.

He looked at me a long time. "Then I guess we should make sure you not wrong." His tone shouldn't have given me any hope, so I didn't show how excited I was. First, he took me to a shooting range. From 50 feet away, I still shot point blank. He wore the same expression, but I knew I'd merited myself hope. I could disarm a bomb in less than 30 seconds of every kind they gave me. I had the best time in the fitness test.

"You did exceptionally well in all the tests, but you're still underage." He said after all the tests were done. My heart dropped.

I looked down for the first time the entire time I was there. "Yes sir."

"Unless, you could be one of our strategists, until you're of age."

My heart jumped right back up to my throat. My dad told me over and over again that you could send a million soldiers but if you didn't have a strategy it wouldn't matter. "What would I have to do sir?"

"How would you plan a war?"

Easy. "Bomb the banks, all of them. The war is practically over if you have no money to fund yourself."

He nodded slowly, as if he were making up his mind. "You are in. Be here 7:00 am sharp. You are dismissed."

I went home to celebrate. It was just me and my brother, and a couple of my dad's friends. I started off good, but it was clear how wrong it was that my dad wasn't here to celebrate with us. The grief was so fresh, but we all pretended it wasn't so obvious. I ended the party earlier than everyone expected, saying I had to report in early tomorrow. The truth was I couldn't stand it anymore.