Tales From a Land Called Aberon

Death Deepens

Things to know:
Italics out of quotes are thoughts
"Text in quotes is speech"
"Italics in quotes are words said with a certain... Emphasis"
Regular text is events and observations.
"Bold in quotes is angry speech/yelling"
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          The viscous rap-a-tat-tat of machine guns thundered out with a ravenous hunger from the bunker we were trapped in. The sound of booms, both sonic and explosive in nature, ripped through the air as fighters dueled above and bombers dove in evasion. Every once in a while we heard that horrible sound of rolling thunder as artillery and gunship fire rained down on attackers and defenders, seemingly indiscriminate in tearing life from limb. I could hear the shots twang off the outside of the bunker, eager in their pursuit of flesh to deliver their malicious bite to me and my fellows. The sound of anti tank fire roared forth seeking to rend a gash in the seemingly endless tide of tanks with even more men and machines behind them lusting for our blood. I stood terrified but determined, knowing running and hiding like I oh so desired would only mean going down without a fight when they inevitably broke the line we held in this forsaken wasteland. I was manning one of the many gun turrets, sending my angry, screaming wrath flying at those who so desperately wanted us gone. Then I saw it. Coming straight for us, a gunship trailing smoke with enough speed to plow a mile's trail in the ground. I closed my eyes, and was ripped into the inky black by the seemingly all encompassing wall of fire and metal shredding through me...

          I stayed in that void for a while, taking comfort in the warm embrace of the void. It reminded me of when I used to lay out in the grass and bask in the sun back home... I could practically feel the grass pricking against the back of my neck in protest of it's unwilling service as a bed. Wait a second... I tried to open my eyes despite all logic pointing to them being a red mist. To my surprise they did open, and not to a scene of concrete, steel, and fire twisted about. I saw the sky. Not the ashy grey murk we had called a clear day before, but an actually blue sky, with a few clouds drifting through. I don't feel the spot on my shoulder bruised from oh so many kicks of high powered rifles either... Well, at the very least I didn't end up in some land of eternal punishment. I pushed myself up off the ground, standing up to get a good look around at the strange place I found myself in.

          I was in a forest like there used to be not too far from home, green with spring growth. Definitely not in Kansas anymore... Or even the same planet for that matter, there hasn't been a forest standing like this since the 2070s. A few squirrels scurried through the trees and the occasional chirp of a songbird could be heard. I found that I had what I went out in, my camo gear, boots, still strapped with ammunition and the rifle that never left my side since life went to hell in a hand basket. Well, at least I won't get mauled by some wild creature as easily with this... Looking around, the forest was beautiful but thankfully lacking in the malicious wildlife category.

          Well, I suppose I'm going to be stuck here for a while then. Best to find water first and go from there I suppose. I decided to head off in the direction opposite to the sun, which seemed to be on the rise an hour or so before noon.  At least that way I'd probably be able to get back here if I needed. It wasn't a particularly densely forested area, so thankfully the most resistance I encountered from the foliage was the occasional snapping of a twig or dodging a bush or two. This would probably be a while...

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           I swear I must have been walking for at least two hours now.  In reality it was probably less, but trudging through an unknown wilderness to who knows what tends to have that sort of effect on you. All that mattered now was that I had come across a river about 10 feet wide and deep as my waist in the middle. It was running crystal clear, lazily flowing along in no hurry to get anywhere. I set to work building a small fire near its bank, gathering the fallen branches and twigs in hopes to get something somewhat safe to drink after my hike. I had emptied my canteen through the trip, but thankfully the canister was solid metal of some kind, designed to be able to heat and purify in situations like this. I fished around in my pocket and found the old Zippo my father had given me was still there and kicking. I set the little pile I had hastily assembled alight and started to heat up a canteen full of water, grumbling under my breath about the situation I found myself in. I know I said I would rather be anywhere than on the front, but this is definitely not much further up my list. Well, I had been planning on using my leave to go camping with my little sis at one of those parks with all the trees that almost could be mistaken for real... This is the next best thing I suppose

          I broke off from that train of thought as I carefully played operation with my canteen now filled with boiling water and a pair of bigger sticks. After getting it out and setting the thing to cool, I sat on a rock and stared into the small fire. I wonder what kind of wild life lives around here...? I heard a twig snap somewhere behind me, and instantly the reflexes hammered into me took hold. I found myself on one knee with my rifle in hand, aim trained on... A girl with a crude wooden bow?