Field of Vision

Chapter 8: Reunion

He pulled his gaze away from the scope, his bored stare blinking rapidly. Something was burning in his eyes, and he crawled backwards. "Fill in, hold on," he got up into a crouch, blinking faster than his trigger finger.

"You alright?" one inquired as he dragged himself forward.

"Y-yeah..." he muttered, getting back onto his stomach. "Just fine."

He nodded and pushed their gun out, looking through the scope with one eye, dropping his headphones on. BANG! The ace sniper tried grinning with superiority, but ended up coughing and tearing with shame. BANG! "Medic?" called the shooter, unaware of his volume.

Wilson shook his head. "Suit yourself," he said casually. BANG! "Switch," he said, rolling over to his right. As another person crawled forward to fill in, like a slow motion bullet in a hand gun, Wilson sighed. "No need. We probably have them by now."

They continued, heedless, and Wilson strapped his helmet on tighter. Ignoring information could get you killed on the battlefield. He smiled. If they were ignoring information, then they wouldn't have started this war with Nara.

He walked through the village, his sniper rifle strapped diagonally around his back, his handgun out but not in ready position. He looked around at the piles of Kunden soldiers that the Nara patriots had dragged down with them, shaking his head in disgust. Why they fought for that despicable country was beyond him. He still had nightmares where he was trying to fight for Nara, trying to justify his murders.

It all came down to the same conclusion: there was no justification. After this, they'd all be scarred by what they'd done, but they wouldn't be able to do a thing about it. He passed a couple of Kunden villager bodies and sighed inwardly, continuing.

He spun around, bringing his gun up. A blue-yellow, torn, red-stained shadow pushed the gun downwards and pointed their own at his face. "Caught me," Wilson said, almost grinning.

It slacked and Wilson showed the pendant around his neck. "It's not a Class Five violation with Kunden."

His attacker's jaw dropped and he took a step back. "A deserter...!" Wilson slapped his gun away, drawing his knife and pressing it against his neck softly. "I don't like this. But fighting for Nara makes the devil save a spot in hell, just for me. I'd rather go there discreetly," he shrugged, before slicing him.

He saw his back give, crumpling onto itself like a bad tent. Wilson backed up and scratched his black hair, grimacing. He turned to see Nicholas, blood pouring out of a spot on his chest, the spot Wilson had nailed, and his companion kneeling beside him. "I'm sorry about your friend," Wilson spoke up, walking forward. He lay still, water still dripping from his cheeks.

Wilson frowned. "Aren't you at least going to look at me?" He pushed his chin up a little, seeing a peaceful expression, and it wasn't tears that were cascading, it was the blood from the head shot he'd suffered.

Wilson jumped back in terror and then regained his composure. "That's unfortunate," he mumbled as he continued walking through the fake village, leaving Nicholas behind in his tracks.

Patrick approached him. Wilson grinned widely and slapped him on the back. "Long time no see, I heard you were alive, but I only caught glimpses of you." Patrick nodded.

"You remember my name, I hope."

"Of course, Jonathan, I always looked up to you, being a year ahead," Wilson laughed. "Just kidding, Patrick, stop looking so serious."

His rage turned into a steady ease and he shrugged. "I'm alive, that's enough."

"What happened back at the school?"