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Rated: E · Short Story · War · #1785340
I can't remember anything...
I open my eyes to see the same damp corner I've been staring at for the last week or so. I don't really know, I lost track after 4 days. I try to get up, but all my muscles refuse to listen to my commands. All I can do is turn my head, and even that takes a little effort. After about 5 minutes of working out another kink in my neck, I turn around to see a man polishing a gun. He's wearing a dusty old fur coat, topped off with a fur cap. His facial features show that he's been through a lot. The scars and ugly bruises can't hide behind his shaggy, black beard. I stare at him a while before he finally notices me. He speaks to me in his native tongue. I try to make out what he's saying, but it's no use. He just shakes his head and puts his focus back to polishing his rifle. I close my eyes, only to open them again. This time the man is gone, and I'm stuck in this cell alone with my thoughts. Not entirely alone though. There is another guy who just sits there in his usual spot near the wall, always minding his own business. I don't mess with him, and he doesn't mess with me. And that is how I'd like to keep it. Suddenly, a metal clang is heard from the other side of the room as the metal doors swing open. Two men walk in, one of them was the other one I saw earlier polishing his gun. They talked to each other in, I think it was Russian. I really didn't know. I was known for fight first, ask questions later. That's probably how I got myself in here. It was another cold summer afternoon, as me and my unit were patrolling the Russian borders. We were getting bored so everyone decided to have a little target practice with the trees. We were just having a little fun, when we should have been doing our jobs. We didn't even notice a whole squad of Russian spies behind us. It was quick, like a bullet. After that I was taken for hostage because I was suspected of being the Captain. The two Russians kept pointing at me. Fear kept poking at the back of my mind. What were they talking about? Soon the conversation started turning into shouts, then it finally ended with one guy putting his fist in the others face. They kept punching and kicking and biting each other. Yelling curse words when they could. Finally one of the guys must have gotten a little too pissed off. He pulled out his pistol, pointed it at the other guy's head and pulling the trigger. The flash was blinding, and it took me a while for me to gather my thoughts on what was happening. The next thing I knew, the doors of my cell was opened, and the shooter grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up. He pulled out a knife and cut the rope bounding my hands behind my back. I was oblivious on what was happening. But the moment the man spoke to me, a chill went over me. It was one of my own men. He spoke perfect English, no accent at all. When he was done I just looked at him and hugged him. I don't know why, my body just leaned over and my arms just spread wide and I just gave him a huge hug. Tears stated to well up and I started breaking down in sobs. I was being broken out... But I couldn't keep doing this. I quickly pulled myself together and stood myself up straight and to attention. He told me we had to be sneaky and stealthy. The body will be discovered and by then we will have to be out of there and driving down the mountain in a jeep that is waiting for us outside. He passed me the man's pistol and I grasped it with both my hands. The cold metal made contact with my equally cold hands. I followed him out the door and through the building. We weaved through the halls and after a while I started to get dizzy. Suddenly he stopped me and put his finger to his lips. We waited a while before he thought the coast was clear. We went out the double doors into the camp courtyard. Everyone was asleep except for a couple of night guards. There was no way we could sneak passed them without getting caught, so we had to do the unthinkable. We both went behind two guards. We both pulls out our knifes and prepared to lunge. I couldn't see what my partner was doing because I was busy with my own man. I quickly covered his mouth and slit his throat. There was minimum struggle. We both put on both of the uniforms and hid the bodies in a couple of bushes. But after that an alarm went out. We thought we've been caught but it was actually something worse. The body that my partner killed was discovered by the janitor and we were being searched. We both blew caution to the wind and sprinted down the rest of the path. After a while, the jeep was in sight. We were both out of breath when we got there when we heard a scream. We've been found! The driver started up the engine and we jumped into the back of the trunk. He stepped on the gas with no hesitation. We went speeding down the hill when the first gunshot was heard. We cowered down under the blankets while the driver kept cursing when we hit a bump. He told us it was safe to come out. We sat there looking out into the night sky as the jeep drove down the road back home. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. My first breath of freedom...
Afterword: Please be gentle with bad comments for this is actually my first short story. I love Russians. This story is fiction. God bless the fallen soldiers of America.
© Copyright 2011 Mansell JL (punkydexter at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1785340