We Are Courageous {BOOK 1}

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand.

The explosion sounds, making the earth quake with fury and rage. From the sky fall dozens of Chinese soldiers. Gunfire echoes across the night air, firing into homes and hearts of many innocents. The screams of the Americans rang out. The attack had officially begun. People dropped dead within mere seconds. This was the beginning of a new era. This was World War III.

But this new beginning was nearly one hundred years ago.

No one has any memory of what happened during those fateful years of the war. All we know is what our ancestors have told us. And those stories were passed down from their ancestors before them. Everyone has a different story. But there is one thing we all know for certain—that the Chinese had indeed won the fight. It's no secret that we all wish we knew the entire story behind the war, but we take what we can get. Especially when it comes to this delicate subject.

My eyes shut as I try to imagine—try to wrap my mind around what happened all those years ago. I try to picture the chaos that unraveled. I picture the tragedy that came as many lost their loved ones. The pain that they felt was unbearable. There was fear in the eyes of the Americans as death knocked at their door. There are people who are dead that shouldn't have died—their life stolen from them all too soon. If World War III never occurred, we would still be living in unity. At one time, our country's motto was "In God We Trust," but that trust was no more. It was every man for himself.

Sixty-five one thousand, sixty-six one thousand, sixty-seven one thousand.

My closed eyes begin to twitch as the ticking of the clock creeps against the silence of my house.

China had taken over. It was now inevitable. They had won. Over the past hundred years, things grew worse and worse. For us, the War never really ended. Since then, the Chinese began disappearing, as well as the States. One by one, little by little, the United States became less and less. We were being extinguished. The light was being snuffed out. It was for the best, I knew it was. I just didn't want to believe it. Five states remain. Forty-five other states weren't as lucky. China was taking their precious time at demolishing the once united country.

While that is all ever so terrible, there are even worse matters. These matters being that there was nothing we could do to stop our own annihilation. We are all doomed to die. Our own President failed us and ran off. We have no one to help tame the panic of our country. Left alone. To die, to suffer.

One hundred twenty-one one thousand, one hundred twenty-two one thousand, one hundred twenty-three one thousand.

My hands grip the sides of my chair. Sweat beads my furrowed brow. The clock still ticks.

I count the numbers silently in my head. I'm imagining chaos but my eyes keep opening to look at the clock. The annoying tick causes me to flinch with each passing second.

Late. She's late. My mother is late, yet again. It is nothing new. Every day she comes home late and every day I have to tell myself nothing bad has happened to her. That she will still come home, unlike my father did. She's alive. He's not. Mom will be here soon.

Dad promised he'd come back. I was worried because the Jotunn Warriors had invaded New York. I made him promise to come home to me. That was two months ago. He never returned. Everyone presumed him to be dead even though there was no proof, and above all else, no body. How can a man disappear without a trace of him being left? It's almost as if he never existed at all. But I know better. The memories of him tell me otherwise. He existed. He still does. And somewhere out there he's still there, waiting on us to find him.