Where two fronts meet

Chapter one. Trapped.

We get split up, Jansen, Brooks and me. Carter, Williams and Morrison.

The door falls closed behind us and the men yell something in heir language outside the door. The little shed is empty, and me and the guys all sit with our backs against the wall, hands tied behind us. The floor has sand all over it, and Brooks moving his leg makes a crunching sound. We're quiet, all looking in front of us. The wall is smooth, if not a little bumpy. The wooden door has gaps at the bottom and is painted in chipped green paint. The sun is bright coming from under the door.

We don't know what's going to happen, how long we'll have to be here or what's going on with the others. All I know is that this isn't good. Silence. Some far away voice speak in a foreign language. We broke our coms before we got taken in just so they couldn't listen in on anything, but even if we do make it out, there's no contacting base.

They most likely have found out about the fact that we're missing or at least that somethings wrong because of the radio silence.

Slowly, the sunlight under the door moves a shadow the longer we're there. Still no word has been spoken. There's no plan to be made. No chit chat. No reassuring each other. Just watching the shadows by the door move.

It's weird sitting there. You worry about the others. You think about the people back home that you left behind to go on this deployment. Mom, back home with her dog and her chickens waiting to pick me up from the airport once I get back. I send her a post card I got out in some town last week. She must've gotten it by now. My sister, all pregnant, being due a month after I'm supposed to come home. She was so happy to hear I'd be back home by then.

The sun leave the door in shadow, and after long enough the shed grows darker and darker, and we huddle together more for warmth. Weirdly enough, I get some sleep, and soon enough it's light again. Shadow and sunlight under the door again, on the other side this time.

The door opens up and we get yelled at in a foreign language, but the hand gestures show that they want us to get up. So we get to out feet. They pull us out and push us forward, following this one guy. Nerves rise in my chest as I follow Jansens footsteps. We go through narrow streets, all the walls looking the exact same. All the little sheds having the same green tin roof. We get stopped by a bigger house. Again no windows, but three doorways, but no doors. Jansen gets pushed with the end of the barrel to go in, and he does, me following. More armed men stand inside and they line us in front of them, facing the empty side of the room. I glance at Brooks and see him staring at the ground in front of him. Is this it? 'Knees. Get down!' We get yelled at more, but we obey and get on our knees.

An execution, is what it feels like. Is this what happened to the others too? Done is done and there isn't much I can do about it. I just hope they find my death letter and give it to my mom. She deserves that much. Ironic really, how I always thought writing these was unnecessary. Yet here I am.