Tsunami of Dead Tears: Part 2

Chapter 20

Gordon was alive, but he wasn't necessarily happy about it.

He had hid behind the body of a fallen tree for most of the battle, Tsutomu wrapped in his arms, trying not to make a sound. Because that was all he was good for, right? Running away?

"I should be out there..." Gordon muttered to himself.

Tsutomu raised an eyebrow. "What could you possibly do against those things?"

Gordon shook his head at this question. "It's not about what I can do. It's about what I should do."

"Well, you know what we should do?" Tsutomu said. "Stay quiet."

Gordon rolled his eyes at this. They were quite a significant distance away, say half a kilometer,  from the mansion, and he had assumed that most of the demons have already made it there. If he were to stick his head up from the ground, he probably wouldn't be spotted by anything besides the occasional reluctant rabbit here and there.

This wasn't his way. This wasn't what he stood for.

As he sat there, contemplating everything he had done up to that point, his mind drifted off to a distant memory, back in the west, when he was once a man that was more than willing to fight for the people he loves...

. . .

Months earlier...

Contrary to what most people thought, Gordon wasn't entirely American.

The young man had been visiting his father (who was of English origin), and had been staying in Birmingham for the last couple years. The real reason for his departure to Britain was, of course, problems with his wife who was in the States. In the midst of all the chaos their relationship had gone through, Gordon needed to relax. However, during that point in time, most people were far from relaxed.

"Those damn Jerrys!" he heard someone behind him say. Gordon was about to enlist in the British army to fight in a war he had absolutely no interest in. But he was glad to do it, because it meant he would be saving the life of someone dear to him.

The line pivoted, and soon it was Gordon's turn.

He didn't even wait for a question. In his mind, saving his friend from the war was all that mattered. "I would like to know of the recruitment status of one John Tolkien?"

The man at the other end of the booth looked puzzled. "Uh... who?"

"John Ronald Reuel Tolkein." Gordon repeated, stating his full name this time. "I believe he had been contemplating enlistment for some time now."

"Let me check..." The man said, taking out a thick log of papers.

"Oh come on..." Gordon sighed. He HAD to take John's place in the army. For what seemed like months, his friends -and even family, for that matter- had been trying to convince him into joining the Royal Army to "honor his country" or something. Having grown up in the United States, Gordon saw no benefit in bullying a man to die for something he cared not for. He could see it in John's eyes. Those innocent eyes. Ones that cherished the smell of grass and sting of brandy. Who wouldn't want to save such a soul from permanent torture?

He wouldn't let Tolkein enlist in the army. There was only one lacking slot left, and Gordon would be the one filling that slot. No matter what it takes.

"He's from Sarehole village, for God's sake!" Gordon said. "Surely, you must have heard of him."

The man ignored him and kept scanning his log. Finally, his finger stopped on a little blurb of text and he looked up. "Good news."