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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1863628-The-Costs-of-War
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Sci-fi · #1863628
Life moves on even after the toll is taken.
         Captain Allen trudged through the remains his home city. Four years he had given to this war, four years of hell. Now he stood before the result of a super laser strike. The war had been on all fronts, even home. They had won, but at what cost? Everything he had fought for was here. Skyscrapers dotted the area and ash rained down from the heavens above. The whole city was gray, colorless and in ruin with pieces of buildings coming down. The city had been without warning and he couldn't believe the military hadn't been able to prevent this. Piles of ash lay as tribute to the bodies they had once formed. The space laser had struck almost a half mile away from here and the damage was still catastrophic. Allen then slung his laser gun over his shoulder and headed towards were his house had stood. A large tube, that had once been part of a bullet train track, lay upon the street, blocking the way. Allen raised his gun and pulled the trigger. A blue beam shot forth, dividing the pipe down the middle to forge a path ahead. He remembered back before this horrid war when the land was peaceful.

         He had spent every day watching his two year old son grow. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined anything could tear them apart. Who would've thought that after all the men he killed, just so his wife and child could live in peace, now he might never see them again. Allen remembered the summers at the nearby lake he spent with his family. His son would play in the shallows and get covered in mud and sand. His wife would laugh as the child looked back at them with a beard of clay plastered on his face. Ships would fly overhead towards the city in the distance. Every time one did, the child would gasp with shock and glee. Those days were long gone now and only destruction remained. Allen walked through an old play-ground that was covered in in soot and ash. He stopped in front of a swing that his boy had loved to play on and reached out his hand to touch the chain. The swing snapped at this slight touch and clattered noisily to the ground.

         Suddenly, a pack of wild dogs ran around the corner of a building and dashed towards him. Allen raised his gun and fired multiple shots but one dog made it through. The remaining one jumped upon Allen and knocked him to the ground.
         'No! Not like this!' he thought to himself. Allen shoved off the dog and reached for his fallen weapon. The dog quickly recovered and grabbed Allen by the leg and drug him backwards. He kicked off the dog and reached again for his gun. His fingers got hold of the handle and he turned around quickly with gun raised and fired. The dog fell to the ground and died with an awful sound. "That was too close." Allen said as he stood back on his feet. He pressed on further 'Almost there, almost there.' he thought to himself. Allen walked around the last corner and saw his house still standing. His heart skipped a beat and he rushed forward, 'Perhaps they're in the underground bunker beneath the house, or-' Allen cut his thoughts short and stood still in front of the house. All was completely silent and still for a moment, he suddenly dropped to the ground and began to weep. On the side of the wall was a silhouette of a woman holding a small child burned in from the blast. The heat from the laser had been so intense that the area where they had been standing was the only area where the paint had not been burned off. Any other remains had been taken off by the wind. Allen's weeping and cries of pain washed though the scorched skyscrapers and buildings so it was heard throughout the city. Tears and ash hit the ground like rain as he cried out. He raised his gun slowly to his head and twitched his finger, ready to take his life. He was just about to close his eyes for the last time when he saw something at the base of the wall. Allen set the gun down and brushed off the ash on the ground and gasped. He stood and looked at the silhouette once again and said "I understand." he stabbed his gun into the ground next to the silhouette and put his helmet on top of the gun. He then pulled out his knife and pressed a button on it and the blade lit up with a golden glow. Allen began to work, uttering a silent prayer as he did. Allen said one last goodbye as he turned and walked away into the sea of soot and rubble, his form faded away into the falling ash. Back upon the gun his helmet was inscribed; "R.I.P. Heather Johnson, loving mother and wife. R.I.P. Steven Johnson, loving son." and upon the wall read "Life goes on even after so much pain has been wrought. Live for the dead and remember them always.". Down at the base of the wall right in front of the silhouette grew a small sprout with two leaves protruding from it. Allen's dog tags lay around the base of the plant and there they stayed forever more. Word count: 878
© Copyright 2012 2 Winged Dragon (guardiandragon at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1863628-The-Costs-of-War