14 Jul 2018

jennickels: (100: bellamy)

Chapter Thirty - Getting Us Nowhere


The freezing rain is like thousands of daggers nicking every inch of exposed skin. He shivers uncontrollably, teeth chattering. Or maybe that’s the adrenaline. Screams fill the valley, mingling with the staccato bursts of gunfire. The tent next to him is burning—acrid smoke stinging his nose and making his eyes water. The flames dance in the night but offer no warmth.

This is wrong.

He struggles to maintain a grip on his rifle in the rain. His finger slips from the trigger. But it's not raining. Blood covers his rifle. His clothes. The ground. Everything.

So very wrong.

It’s for the greater good, a voice whispers in his head. They would have attacked eventually. We weren’t safe.

He’s not so sure anymore. There’s just so much blood. It rains from the night sky. He stumbles around the bodies and pushes back the flap of a tent to find a man too injured to walk. The man begs. Not for him. For the child cradled in his arms. She clutches a doll, face coated in blood, eyes staring blankly.

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