Operation Blue Jay : A Countryhumans Alternative History

Chapter 5

America was crouched down, hiding behind a tree. Eyes wide like an owl, she stared. Stared at the all-too-familiar giant of a man, who for some reason had a quilt. Stared as he started the ignition, sparks flying in her mind as she processed what she was seeing.

America watched the car drive down the road, and for the first time in seemingly forever, the growing number of voices screaming in her head went silent. It had been so long since it was silent. There was always something ringing, someone talking, something scurrying right in her ear.

But now there was silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Beautiful silence.

Silent like a prairie, like a sniper, like a crawling viper. It coiled around her brain, constricting and squeezing until her thoughts seemed to slow down as they were strangled. She blinked, then blinked again, before suddenly the silence let her go, and all of her thoughts came rushing out at once. They screamed in unison-

Get him.

So America ran. She pumped her legs as fast as she could manage, lungs burning as cold air rushed through her. She ran towards the object of her hatred, the one thing she had left from her old life. Familiarity was shelter, and she had been out in the cold for so long. She stumbled and reached, not nearly close enough to even grasp the one thing she had been sure about ever since she broke free. She tripped a few more feet before she fell to the ground, sharp gravel and dirt cutting into her face and hands. She groaned before quickly pushing herself up, lifting her face and watching the car as it disappeared into the forest. America stood up, staring with wide eyes at the direction the car had gone.

Soviet.

He was close.

She could kill him.

He was Reich's ally, right?

He took Jerome from her.

If America killed the Soviet Union, then the Axis would be much weaker.

Or she could capture him.

She could hold him hostage and demand a phone in exchange for the man. She could call Canada. She could give her brother the code and then go on about her life. She could give him the power to fix everything.

America looked down at the ground. The Communist rat army was underfoot, she could sense it. Yellow rat teeth gnawing through dirt, eyes gleaming with greed and disgust at her. They would try to stop her if she waited any longer.

So America ran after the car, darting down the road in a rather awkward fashion. She couldn't seem to run in a straight line, stumbling a bit as the world continued in the same dizzy tilting motion it tended to go into whenever she moved nowadays. She wheezed out breaths as she ran, slowing to a walk as the road grew steep and rocky. America squinted up at the rocky mountainside, unsure if the Soviet had truly gone this way. But a quick look at the ground showed some tire tracks, and thus America kept going.

America stopped for rest after an hour of walking up the steep road, sitting down and pulling her new coat tighter around herself.

"Wow, stealing from an old lady." A somewhat familiar voice startled America. She quickly looked around, spotting a grinning Confederate a few feet away. She looked a little different, although America couldn't quite place what was off about the other's appearance. "That's low, even for you."

"Why are you here?" America groaned, burying her face in her hands. She chose to ignore the remark regarding her stolen attire, not wanting to think about the fact that she had resorted to stealing from random old Slavic ladies in small towns.