Pierced [Ben Parish fanfic]

Chapter 3

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          I DON'T BURRY HER body. Too many emotions-might make me soft. I can't go soft that's a death sentence. That's what this war has made every decision become. It's made every decision either a death sentence or not. Death or no death that's all it is. And that soldier made the wrong choice.

     I remember when the 1st wave rolled in. I was in class attempting not to zone out. "The following inequality is..." I jump a bit as a vibration goes off in my right combat boot. I looked up checking if Mrs. Lahey was looking my way. All clear. I dig my phone out of my boot and smile at the text Emily sent me. 'Boredom issues?' I hold in a laugh and reply. 'No I totally love AP physics!' I looked up to see the back of our strict teacher.

     'well I know someone to help you with your boredom.' My smile fades. 'don't you dare.' My phone vibrates again after a minute. 'I'll ask him if he wants an end of the world make out session' my cheeks burn and I am about to answer something offensive when my phone goes black.

     "What the?" I looked up and noticed that all of our light has gone out. Kids around me began rising from their seats shouting and talking. "Calm down it's just a black out." Our teacher assured but even she looked afraid.

     A loud screech and the sound of crashing filled the air. Everyone rushed to the windows including myself. Down the street cars were stopping and hitting one another. "This isn't just a power outage." A girl beside me whispers. "They shattered our light." My voice reflects the astonishment shining on my face.

     That wave was nothing compared to what was to come. The thing is I didn't know that. No one did. We were back in the Stone Age, no power. Maybe the Others knew we relied too much on power, on WIFI. I knew I relied on it too much.

     My feet crunch the dried out leaves as I shoulder my leather backpack. That first wave wiped out more than just electricity. It took a part of me that makes me who I am. It took my ability to trust. Now everyone is a target and I am the arrow. "That's a wrap." I hear a voice boom over what must be a megaphone.

     Sound is a rare thing in these woods. And everything I hear becomes a possible target. "Red the only exception." I think aloud. I press my back against a tree and press my cheek against the bark my eyes able to catch glimpses of green, yellow and black. "Palmer?" A voice asks. "Down sir." Another voice calls.

     My fingers burn a little. The wire of my bow is digging into my fingertips. I'm taking the anger I have out on my very own fingers, cutting them up with my very own weapon. "-arrow in these woods?" The voice says, stone cold. "Sir, yes sir." Another voice confirms. My fingers dig impossibly deeper into the wire as I pull it back ready to knock an arrow. Dried leaves crunch under the weight of a body. Crunching ever too close to me.

     Stupid thoughts stupid actions. That's what has been my guideline since the second wave. When cities crumbled and burned. We suffered the least of it but the coastal cities-BOOM. Gone in an instant. Killed thousands. "We're lucky we're alive Bridget. Think of that." My father would always assure even though just outside gang members were breaking into houses, stealing, and killing. "Yeah, so they could kill us in a more orderly matter." I would snarl as I stared through a hole in the boards that my father had nailed. "Don't talk like that." My father whisper screamed at me. He knew I had lost faith but that didn't mean I had the right to make Gavin loose hope.

     Stupid thoughts that would include the hope, the rage, the pain within me. Maybe they'll save me? I question silently. No they're not here to do that. That's why they killed Red dumbass! The apocalypse part of me warns. The apocalypse me wins.

     The leaves stop crunching and the wind screams louder. A strand of red hair falls over my eyes. I resist the urge to push it away into the rest of my black hair. I had gotten the streaks to warn people who I was. But now they make me seem like a killer rebel. Maybe that isn't a bad thing.

     "I know you're out here." A low whisper calls over the wind. The winds scream dims and the scream of any sound dies. This was my battle, and I knew it would only be one of the many in this war. "The come and get me jackass." I roar and swing my body around the tree.

     I knock an arrow. The soldier doesn't react as my arrowhead buries itself in the blankets of his flesh. "Ah, a fighter." He smirks. His cold blue eyes bore into my green ones. I could swear I could see the faces of all those he's killed. Not exactly a great sign.

     I don't lose my train of thought. I pull an arrow and place it in my bow. "Who the hell are you?" I snarl aiming at his head. I prefer to see them die immediately so I don't have to worry about them surviving miraculously. No- not miraculously, I may have believed before but in this dead earth there is no such thing as miracles. No hope. Just rage and pain. Loss and tears.

     The soldier smiles. "You got guts smiling." I jerk my head towards my bow. "I'm armed and I'm a great shot." I warn. The soldier only smiles broader. "I am your Michael Angelo. You are my clay." I'm about to pull out my old sarcastic self when the soldiers form blurs and then everything goes black. The last words I hear, "You are my clay and I am you're Michael Angelo."