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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1495776-Last-Stand
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1495776
Two men face of against an army, while protecting humanities last hope.
The distant noises grew louder. The two figures looked at each other, unsure of which would hit first.

To the East, the noises were accompained by flashes of lightening. A storm was coming. It almost seemed cliched to the pair that their final stand would be made to the backdrop of frightenly large storm. Despite the possible destructive force of the force from the East however, it bore no resemblence to the definite destructive force arriving from the South.

A wry smile formed on the taller of the two's face, "Well big brother, good to see some rain at last. The farmers will be pleased."

The other turned and allowed himself to chuckle, a rarity theses days, "No doubt about it, although they would probably end up complaining that it was too much."

These two men were humanities last hope in their battle for survival. The stood in front of the small entrance to a cave. Inside was an item so powerful that it stood to turn the tide of the war. However, due to the massive loses substained, it was now being proctected by only two men with an entire army bearing down on them. The exact size of the Northbound force wasn't certain, what was certain was the fact that the two brothers were not going to be enough.

It had been several months since the 'Crew' had split. With hope all but lost, the 'Crew' just couldn't funtion as a group anymore, to many loses, to much friction, to much heartbreak. The two brothers had stumbled upon the cave and it secret although it would seem to late. They decided then and there that they were not going to give up with out a fight whatever the probable outcome.

Christenson, the younger of the two stood tall. In fact he was the taller of the pairing, a fact he always made sure his brother remembered. He stood a good 6'6" and was built like a front rower. Despite his size Chris, as he preferred to be known as, was incredibly quick. He had actually held a state 200 metre record back in his high school days. His sporting dreams we ended prematurely when he was recruited into the 'Crew.' This happened three months after the initial 'Conflict' and a full two years before the general public became aware of the situation. That was ten years ago now.

He had been recruited on recommendation from his brother, Jarred. Jarred himself had been recruited halfway through his University days. He was similarily sportingly gifted making several Representive teams throughout his school days. Although being smaller and not as solidly built, there was no mistaking the two as brothers. The both featured well defined faces, almost perpetually had rough growth and left there naturally wavey, blonde hair at a shoulder length.

They had both been there at the beginning and they would both be there at the end. They both imagined this so, the other members of the 'Crew' had gone of in search of more likely weapons in the war. Nothing had been heard from anyone in months - this really did seem like the last stand. Rain began to fall, slowly at first but heavy. It seemed as if it was in anticipation of what was to come. Instinctively, they both felt for their weapons.

"Christenson," Jarred was they only one to get away with calling him by his full name, "just want to say it's been a pleasure."

"No, no" came the reply, "the pleasure's all mine.

"Look here they come." Jarred pointed to the distance , to the now visable army charging towards them.

"Shit, how many are there? One Thousand? Two?"

"Closer to the three grand mark I think."

"Well, I certainly do hope there are more of the arseholes behind this bunch otherwise we'll be home in time for supper."

Jarred laughed again, they would work their way through a few dozen, maybe even hitting the hundred mark. They weren't particularly good fighters, but there sheer numbers always saw victory fall int their hands. The wind picked up and the rain grew heavier. Jarred let his mind slip back into the past, thinking about all that had been, but mostly about his lost friends in the 'Crew.' He briefly thought about if they were still alive. He quickly finished the thought, realising that if they were he would soon be joining them.

"It's almost hard to believe that it comes down to this - two against a few thousand. No chance of backup, no protection, no weapons." Lamented Christenson.

"What do you mean, you've got your AK."

"Yeah, handy for disguntled Postal employee's, effective against a couple of dozen of these guys - absolutely useless against an entire army of them."

"To bad it all ends here, been an absolute blast."

"Too true, apart from the whole imminent death thing hanging over my head, had the time of my life." Jarred tried to smile.

"Until we meet again brother."

"Likewise."

Rain now belted down, a flash of lightening struck. The entire area lit up as if it were the middle of the day, highlighting the entire army for the first time. The brother stood their ground, hands on guns. Waiting.

A roar came from one of the throng, this in turn was followed by the entire army mimicking the battlecry. They swayed and began to all move at once, their destination clear and presise.

A single thought 'This is it, this is the end."
© Copyright 2008 Mr. Spook (spookism at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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