Marks

New addition?

Shivers went down my spine as the flashlight went over the cracked concrete walls, and the floor. The blood trail kept getting thinner, gradually.

The matalic scent of the blood made me wrinckle my nose. Our footsteps echoed around the hall, and it felt as though we would never reach the end.

If whatever was hurt is still walking, it could take longer than desired to reach it. But, since it was injured, we would get to it eventually.

No one dared to speak, and the tension was growing.  We froze, as a whine traveled down the hall. We all wanted to help whatever was in pain.

We glanced at eachother, not having anything to direct our sympathy towards yet.

We picked up our pace and I moved the flashlight around frantically to find the source of the painful whimpers assaulting our ears.

My breath hitched, as I saw something move. Dawson gasped. A fierce warning growl sounded throughout the small room we had entered.

"Good doggie..." Carter cautiously said, kepping the gun at his side. The german shepherd replied with another growl, this time louder and more menacing.

"I don't think that worked." I started to back away slowly, making sure to keep the flashlight on the dog infront of us.

We heard another whimper, weaker this time, and it definitely didn't come from the dog. But it winned in reply and looked as though it wished to return to what I'm asuming is it's friend.

At the second whimper, the dog scampered towards the sound. It came from behind a ripped couch.

We followed slowly because we didn't want to set the dog off again. And what we saw shocked us.

A little boy, probably 8 or 9, was laying on the ground with his hand over the oposite arm. Blood was pooling quickly underneath him.

"Oh my god..." Dawson whispered. Emma took a step forward but the dog stood over the boy and barked.

I reached to my hip and grabbed the walkie-talkie. "Cheif, we have a problem."

"State the problem."

"A child is hurt, and is being protected my a german shepherd that won't let us help." I waited a moment for her orders.

"Lay down on your backs,"

"What?" I questioned, not knowing how in anyway this would help in any situation, let alone this one.

"Do not question me. Now lie on your backs. Once the dog accepts your submission, crawl over to the child and tend to any wounds."

We did as told and after a minute or two, the dog relaxed. "Ok, Emma, go first. You're closest." Dawson instructed.

"Ok," Emma crawled forward slowly, and successfully reached the boy. Using gloves from her bag, she checked the boys injuries.

Her eyes met ours and she shook her head. I've watched enough movies to know what that meant.

He's unsavable.

"No..." Dawson stood up and tried to reach the boy, but the dog reacted as well. It growled, and showed us many shinning teeth.

"Cheif? We can't save the boy..." Carter held his walkie-talkie up to his face. "He wont make it."

"And the dog?"

We're telling her a kid is going to die and she asks about a dog? How heartless has she become.

"Unharmed as far as we can tell."

"Bring him back with you, and return at once."

"Yes Cheif." Carter lowerd his walkie-talkie with sad eyes. The boy coughed, and I felt immense amounts of sympathy.

Slowly, the boy closed his eyes. The dog whimpered and tucked it's tail between it's legs as it inched forward. It nuzzeled the boys hand, and wiggled it's big head under it.

Carter pulled a length of rope from his bag and walked over to the whimpering dog. After attaching the rope to the dogs neck, Carter stood up.

After a few minutes, Carter pulled on the rope. The dog whimpered, and stood up slowly. I got a good view of it's size and colour. It looked to be around 90 pounds, and had the normal colour of a german shepherd.

It followed Carter with a low head. Carter handed the rope to Emma, who took it gladly. Tension and sadness hung in the air like a dense fog.

We just watched a child die.

"Cheif, we are on our way." Carter spoke, breaking the unbearable yet appropriate silence.

"I will see you soon than."

Dawson was staring at the child. "We have to bring him with us." He bent down, and gently put one arm under the boys shoulders and one under his knees.

"Dawson-"

"No. This was a child, a boy that should have grown up normally. By the looks of it, he had 7 or 8 years of that. We had almost twice that much." He walked passed us. "He deserved more. Every child who died and is still out there did and do."

We all nodded at his speech, and stayed silent the rest of the way to the jeep.

The drive home had almost no interuptions, as if the earth decided this child should rest in peace due to his rough life.

The dog had wrapped around the small boy, whimpering once in a while. It definitely knew it's partener was gone.

The guards opened the gates, and we slowly drove in. Cheif stood directly in the middle of the doors, with two guards on either side of her.

"The ceremony will take place in ten minutes." At her words, one of her guards reached over and took the dog, while another one took the boys body.

They all turned and left, while Sam, Dawson and I went to our dorm.

"Where will it take place?" I asked. Surly they wouldn't go to the graveyard? That would be very risky.

"We have a graveyard of our own attached to our wall. Like a seperated room." Dawson replied while changing into black cargo pants.

Infront of me on the bed was a completely black version of my uniform. I shrugged the clothes on, and we made our way to the yard.