Millennial Ruin

Three: Commander Anko

"Order!" I shout, my voice reverberating around the small bunker, as the men in front of me snap to attention. My gun clanks on my shoulder as I pace around, running my hand through my hair nervously.

The ones in my troop who can stand on two legs are swaying in front of me, the ones who can't are groaning in makeshift cots, the medics doing everything they can to keep them alive.

My heavy boots thud on the concrete floor, every step painful because of my wounded leg. I had it bandaged, but refused to have it more properly treated. The other members of The Society need it more then me, anyway. I was only hit by a piece of shrapnel, most of them were left with bad burns and some even lost limbs.

There were only six men left standing. Of the entire Exodus Society, only six soldiers were left in any sort of fighting condition. I rub my eyes, stimulating them to keep myself awake. I haven't slept in a long while. Too many nights to count.

I wouldn't say that project Millennial Ruin went off without a hitch. There were more casualties then expected, of The Society and of innocents. I had been planning this for a very long time, I've had branches of The Society stationed for months, waiting for my word to place the bombs we acquired. But there were complications. A branch in the Canadian Commonwealth had disbanded, some of our fighter jets were shot down, but overall the goal had been accomplished.

To rid the Divided States of all corrupt leadership. To rid it of sickness. To rid it of the people who killed my parents. Who tested on me to see how much a child's body could take before falling apart.

Scientists tested the plague on me when I was young, trying to figure out the right dosage of antiseptics to give to a child. No one was going to miss me, I was just an orphaned thief that was disposable. I didn't know that they had killed my parents too until after I broke out, taking a couple of flash-drives with me. The drives included secrets of the government, of the plague, of things that made them deserve to be killed. It was then that I started the rebellion.

Just the thought makes my blood boil. I can almost feel the prod of the needles, the bruises forming on my fingertips, the feeling of suffocation, and the visions.

The testing wasn't the only thing that drove me to this. I have been watching the governmental systems tear each other apart. I've had spies on the Eurasian shores, heard whispers of wars and tribulations. The plague had spread to America, and was spreading through the Calizona Territory. That was the first place we bombed.

After the Calizona Territory, the Northwoods went, then the York District. Bombs continued to be dropped, until the only places left completely unscathed were the Capital of Washington and the City of Wind. By this point, people had rallied and gotten some survivors onto crafts. Only few could get out of the atmosphere before we dropped the mother load.

The biggest nuke we could find exploded over the District of Columbia in Washington as a grand finale, the big display. I've heard of fireworks, like smaller bombs that displayed colors and sparks. That's what I pictured when I saw the sky light up, not in color, but in fire.

We took over the City of Wind, using underground tunnel systems to escape the radiation poisoning.

It's not like we're unconditional killers. We forewarned the whole of the Divided States to evacuate, and some heeded our advice, but most stayed. We knew that we were going to kill many innocents in the process. That's what we call the ones who just happened to get in the way; innocents. They didn't do anything wrong per se, just lived in the major cities we hit. Those will be the first that will get rations and anti-radiation masks.

My eyes droop. There are so many things to do, so little time. I check my mobile on my wrist, which is connected to the tracker in Captain Kyler's ID chip. I watch as the dot which represents him floats around the earth. I made sure he was one of the survivors on a craft that evacuated from the District of Columbia. He is too valuable to lose, the best from out intelligence sector, and it is too dangerous for him here.

The soldiers are watching me warily, most of them as exhausted as I am. "At ease," I say in defeat. A chorus of delight washes over me as they sigh and slump to the shadows of the room. I trudge to a cot that has been set up for me, sitting down on it heavily.

I don't feel guilty, I feel justified. I take the gun off my shoulder, laying down on the cot. I can almost drown out the screams in my head, the ringing in my ears.

My eyes shut, my body goes limp, as the dregs of sleep overtake me, drawing me in closer to the dreams. The visions that never left me after the plague testing. They are filled with fireworks tonight.