The War In His Mind

Chapter 25

Explosions rocked the the area surrounding the welcome center. As enemy soldiers poured in, resistance snipers fired from the top of the buildings. Abraham watched as his men on the ground were dispatched with brutality often displayed by those who have no conscience. The snipers in the towers were taking out anybody getting too close to the remaining members of the resistance. In large part it seemed to be working. Abraham could see Israel in the distance directing forces to where ever it is they were supposed to go. Natasha was by his side tending to the needs of the wounded. She was kind like that. Never before had Abraham known a being so compassionate and kind as Natasha. It was a quality he wished he had. There was too much of O'Neil still inside of him. That brash, analytical, self absorbed bastard lingered in his mind. His heart pounded with anger at the thought. He pictured how easy it would be to shoot the soldiers surrounding him. How good it would feel to watch them wither and die in front of him. Just as O'Neil forced Abraham to submit to his will, Abraham could bend these men to his own desire for them- death.

It would be foolish, he thought, to break his cover and die a coward. It would be more courageous to hide in plain sight and force his emotions to be controlled. It was what real men do. True men control their actions, even though their minds and hearts may plead to do something foolish.

The ground surrounding the command center was dug up and turned into makeshift ditches. It was a place of shelter for the soldiers. A brief reprieve from the exhausting demands of war. Abraham himself laid low in a ditch and watch bullets fly over his head and land in the skulls, chests, and legs of O'Neil's men. With every soldier downed two more spawned and took their fallen comrades place. Abraham couldn't determine if he was terrified or proud. A strange mixture of both emotions battled each other for dominance with no clear winner standing out.

Abraham knew he had to move eventually. He noticed the pattern of the snipers. They would take three shots, rest for a few seconds, and repeat the process. The soldiers moving past him didn't seem to care. If he didn't know any better he would assume it was political zeal for their fervent leader. He grinned at how far removed from the truth that was. They died as little more than cattle being crushed by a machine for their meat and fur. Abraham remembered his brief existence as such a fool. It was tiresome and meaningless.

Abraham briefly moved his head above the ditch to get a view of the battlefield. He was met with the cold glare of a sniper rifle and a puff a smoke that gave way to a bullet leaving the chamber. Fear struck Abraham's heart as a bolt of lightning hits the Earth. His chest went numb. His fingers froze in place and disobeyed his commands to move. He was a man stuck in time, living every passing second as if they were a year. He thought of what would become of the city, and who would lead his people to victory. Abraham and Natasha were tough, but they didn't have the experience of standing up to O'Neil like Abraham did.

The bullet struck the ground next to him, narrowly missing his head. Abraham worried that his heart had relocated to his head- his pulse pounded against his brain to the point where it hurt. It would be relief for a bullet to strike his skull and release the pressure built up inside his body. It was difficult enough to move, let alone get himself under control. He managed to get his body flat on the ground, away from the view of the snipers.

His jaw shivered. His breath and heartbeat raced each other. His vision blurred in and out. His skin, normally a lush olive tone was pale like weak tea mixed with milk. Two invisible hands gripped his throat and restricted his ability to breathe. It was a terrifying, deathly feeling. He pleaded for the end to come and set him free. He wanted to be falling again below the city into nothingness. Yet death kept his distance.

Abraham laid on the ground, helpless and hardly able to move. He didn't know how long he was down, but knew it was a while. He waited until he was able to control his body again. The swelling that surrounded his head went away and his heart went back to its normal flustered self. His skin didn't seem all that better but he figured for the situation it wasn't going to get any better.

In his mind he saw the sniper. It was waiting for him. Salivating at the thought of separating his brain with a bullet. Abraham envisioned him as a ravaging beast of a man reigning death upon those who have come to retake the city. Abraham feared this man. He feared what he could do to Abraham. There were thousands of ways to die, but death at the hands of a man you gave life to must be the worst.

Was that how O'Neil felt? Did he ever feel the same fear in his heart? Abraham wished he did. He hoped it was more. He craved that O'Neil would feel that. One day there would be a moment where it would be the two of them. In those final moments Abraham would tell him that hard truth. He would let fear, anger, and despair reign as king in the mind of a man who became a tyrant before finally setting him free and ending his suffering.

Abraham had hardly noticed that he had been so focused on O'Neil's demise that he had little time to think of his own.

Abraham was close to a hundred feet from the command center's front door. It was so close, yet could be the hardest journey he had ever taken. He remembered the last time made the same journey. He was with Israel on a journey to re-write the code and begin the revolution. He vividly retraced his steps and the mental torment that O'Neil put him through. To his right was the same river that the simulation of O'Neil's wife drowned in. It was torture for tortures sake. A cruel game played by a master manipulator. Abraham regretted that O'Neil wouldn't be atop the tower for him to punish. It almost made the entire fight meaningless. Where would it get him? Right back where he started.

The sniper shot two bullets at troops flooding past Abraham. Both hit their mark and send bodies to the ground. Abraham knew a third was coming. He waited patiently for it. When it struck, he made his move. He leaped from the ditch and took off towards the door. He had never ran so fast before. It hurt his legs and caused a burning sensation inside of his chest. He was so focused on pushing himself harder that he didn't see a distinct vibration in the ground. It was so familiar yet so foreign. He couldn't avoid stepping on it, he was too fast. A flash of lightning struck before his eyes and the sound of the sniper rifle fired off. In the corner of his eye he could see the bullet flying towards him. He jumped in the air in a foolish attempt to dodge it but it struck him in the ankle. He flailed in the air and lost control of his body. The bullet crunched every bone in his ankle and left little intact. He landed back first on the ground and hit it with the force of a freight train. The wind rushed out of him almost as suddenly as his hopes and dreams. He was only feet away from the door. The shadows of the the command center covered him and he couldn't see the sniper anymore.

He turned onto his stomach and grabbed at the dirt beneath him. The pale green remains of flowers and grass were crushed as he pulled himself forward. A faint scent of burned wood and charred human remains lingered in the air near the tower. He wondered if it would be possible to climb to the top, either because of his foot or the destroyed ladder.

He carried himself ever closer to the door. He reached for the knob and slowly turned it to the right. As the door opened he could see a shadow of a man behind it.