Casualty of War

The two of them lined up on either side of the parking barriers, their young faces somber with concentration.

Silent pointed at the plane flying above them and issued the command. “There’s one. Take down the enemy craft.”

The friends mirrored each other’s motions, arching the barriers into the air. The corroded metal shifted and stretched to accommodate their directions. Fake shooting noises issued from their lips.

“Got it,” Nick shouted, tugging on his anti-plane weapon with triumph. The metal made a sickening crunch. Suddenly, he teetered off balance with the barrier free of its cement mounting.

“Help,” he whimpered, trying to keep from tumbling over.

Silent released her grip, rushing over to help her best friend. They lay the torn off metal down into the field and glanced around.

“We should return to the home base,” she decided.

“That sounds good.” He nodded and edged forward. “But there’s soldiers in the trees over there. We have to be quiet.”

Her eyes sidled over to the church playground, the bushy trees swaying in the wind. “You’re right. We’ll have to be sneaky.”

They crept forward, hunched over, studying the threatening foliage. Three doors opened and a bunch of preschoolers poured out to attack the unassuming playground equipment.

“Reinforcements! There’s too many. Run for it!” Her direction set their feet slapping against the cracked asphalt. They dove into their respective yards, slamming the gates behind them and panting in relief.

“We made it.” Nick said. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yes, but we’re not playing war again. We almost died, soldier.”

“Agreed.”

Plus, she didn’t want to get in trouble. It was his idea to play war and he’d broken the barrier, but as the oldest, she was the general. He was her soldier following directions. She’d be the one grounded.


This is an entry for

Daily Flash Fiction Challenge  (13+) Enter your story of 300 words or less. #896794 by Arakun the Twisted Raccoon