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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1794745-The-Good-Soldier-Chapter-1
Rated: 18+ · Other · Drama · #1794745
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The gun exploded with noise, drowning out the sound of weeping.
"Think of it as controlling the growing threat of population," Jon could still here his commander's words as if he were still in training. Soldiers weren't supposed to endanger their own people, but here he was repressing what the president and all of congress saw as an increasing problem. Too many people having too many babies. Jon aimed his barrel at the next target, a boy of about thirteen.
"Jesus," Jon said through gritted teeth. His eyes burned; That could be his brother standing in front of a shallow hole. Knees barely capable of holding his own weight up.
"What is it, private?" The growling voice of his heartless leader, Commander Cheffer, startled Jon. He looked over his shoulder at the stone face of this so called superior. Jon considered sharing his thoughts about the boy with Cheffer.
"Nothing," Jon mumbled, his voice full of hatred. He pulled the trigger twice, one in the head one in the chest.
"Good shot, boy," Cheffer laughed, patted Jon's shoulder, and moved along the line of soldiers firing their guns at innocent people.
Jon closed his eyes trying to supress his anger and tears. Operation PopDown was in fullswing by the time he and his friend Chase made it out of bootcamp.
"Off to Georgia," Jon read his deployment papers and scoffed, "How'ya like that, Chase? We went in thinking we'd be killing enemies, turns out we'll just be killing our own."
"Go in a solider, come out a murderer," Chase said, his voice somber.
Jon looked down the line as Cheffer shouted at a young soldier who refused to shoot a six year old girl. She was screaming and crying for her mother.
"You follow orders, boy, or face the consequences!" Cheffer continued, Jon could see the back of his neck turning bright red. The commander pulled his side pistol from his belt and unloaded two bullets into the girl's small body. He sneered at the soldier and screamed obscenities. Jon could here sobbing in between Cheffer's insults, the soldier's shoulders were shaking as he weeped.
"Pussy," Jon heard a few of the others surrounding him mumble under their breaths. He glared at the closest whose name was Pen Jostlin. The man's jaw protruded giving him a menacing look. Jon hated this swine as much as he hated Cheffer. Chase would have killed all of these so called soldiers and Cheffer if he'd been around. Jon glared at Pen who was now joking around with a few guys. He still had four more citizens to take care of before he could go on break. After looking around to see how many of the men were still shooting he noticed he and the crying kid, who didn't kill the girl, were the only ones left.
"Come on Foster!!" Jon heard Pen shout, "You don't want to be the last guy do ya? Or should we call you two the Pussy Twins." Laughter erupted from the group behind Pen. He chuckled and smirked at Jon, his chipped and unlevel teeth showing.
"Why don't you go find your boyfriend, Pen. Or has he found someone else to be his little bitch?" Jon snapped back. He was sick of this giant bastard, Cheffer's little pet. Pen's smile faded and the rest of the men's laughter subsided. Jon turned back to his task at hand, he could feel Pen's eyes burning through the back of his head. Jon glanced back towards the group, Pen's buddies were pulling him away trying to tempt him with a cold beer back at the barracks. Jon shook his head and looked on to his next target. A woman who looked to be around his age of twenty-two stepped in front of the shallow grave now. She wore a grey suit jacket with a matching skirt. Her brownish-blonde hair was pulled back in what was now a loose ponytail.Black rimmed glasses magnified her teary blue eyes. Jon stared at the badge that was secured above her right breast. 'Not even government workers are spared now,' he thought as he took aim. His finger began to pull back on the trigger but his concentration was now on the woman's right hand. She had made her index and middle finger cross one another and placed them on her right thigh. Jon blinked, his heart skipping a beat as he watched this woman whom he had never seen in his life signal him. He stared, eyes wide, at her. She shook noticeably, her lower lip trembled as she mouthed the word, "Please."
Jon watched confused, his finger releasing its' grip on the trigger. He thought about the first time he had seen that signal. Memories raced through his mind like a fast-paced movie.
"Here's hoping we get out of this mess, eh kid?" A young thirteen year old Chase said to an even younger nine year old Jon. The two friends had been caught stealing candy from the grocer's and were now sitting on steel benches at the police station. Jon wished he hadn't listened to Chase when he had said they wouldn't get caught. He hadn't even known Chase that long. All Jon knew was he was in trouble. Big time.
"What's going to happen?," Jon was thinking of his father finding out, and the spanking he would endure afterwards. Chase laughed next to him.
"Relax, kid!" He scooted closer to Jon and lowered his voice, "Listen when they take me back for questioning I'll scope the situation out. If there's trouble and I need help, I'll signal you like this." Chase then proceeded to cross his index and middle finger and placed them on his right thigh. "Now when I do that, you come up and start bustin' guts and we're out of here in no time!!" Jon was getting sick as he thought about busting the gut of an officer.
"I don't think I can do this," Jon's voice squeeked.
Hey we're friends," Chase's tone became stern, "and friends help each other out when they need it! Now are you my ally or enemy?"
Jon became aware of his surroundings again, Pen had trudged off to the tents with all the others and Cheffer. Only he and the younger soldier were left behind with their last few people to execute. Jon looked at the woman who was still signaling to him the way Chase had done so many years ago in the police station and many times after that.
"Soldiers!" Cheffer's voice boomed over a loudspeaker from the tents, "Report and lock up your remaining targets and get to the commons for supper. You'll finish your duties at sun up." The soldier a few yards away from Jon hurriedly pushed his last five victims into a fenced in area that stood not far from the graves. The fencing was electrified and doubled to keep anyone from escaping. Cheffer's own little portable concentration camp.
Jon slowly approached the woman who looked as though she was slightly relieved to know that she would live another night. She continued to signal Jon. As he reached her he gently grabbed her hand and moved it from her thigh.
"Who showed you this?" He asked nervously, hoping Cheffer couldn't see him talking to any of the "Bugs", as the commander always called them. That is all he saw, after all. Nothing more than insects to squish into non-existence. Jon looked into the woman's eyes, studying. He didn't know this woman and had never seen Chase with her before either. They didn't even know anyone from Texas. When they were first deployed to Georgia they had, by chance, seen a girl they had gone to school with back in the midwest. But she had been working for some political hot head there for years. This woman, Jon was sure, had never crossed his or Chase's paths before.
"Help," her whispering was strained, "I thought this meant help."
"I-it does," Jon said pushing her towards the fenced area. He knew Cheffer would be checking them and standing around with a Bug would look suspicious. "But how do you know that?"
"Hurry up, Foster," The soldier Jon had now forgotten about was staring at him, " Cheffer'll have our asses if we're not in there for supper." His eyes started watering again, Jon was sure he was thinking about Cheffer's "consequences".
Jon sighed loudly, showing his annoyance with the private, " Get on kid, I'll lock the rest of them up." The soldier considered Jon for a moment and looked at the woman who was standing next to him.
"You two have no more than two minutes," Cheffer yelled over the loudspeaker. The soldier turned on his heel and ran towards the barracks on the far side of the field.
"I'll be back at midnight," Jon spoke hurriedly and pushed the woman along with three other Bugs behind the fenced gate. "You better have some information for me then."
He didn't mean to sound so hollow and evil towards her. Jon had never thought killing these people justified any kind of population downsizing. The law that the current president, or tyrant, put into action that saw the deaths of many innocent people was nothing compared to the lie that the government concocted, to protect their dirty deeds, from rebellion. Tell a few million people that a deadly, contagious epidemic has spread through the south and you have yourself countless supporters for massive quarantines, righteous executions, and secretive government operations. Jon never wanted to sound like those men, who spoke to those people as though they were parasites. He regretted his tone as he turned to walk away and the woman replied with a sorrowful, "ok." He wanted to turn back and apologize, but thought better of it. Cheffer's punishments weren't worth a next to worthless apology.
His mind raced as he neared the small line of barracks that surrounded either side of him. How had that woman known his and Chase's signal for help? As far as he knew the only two people who had ever known that sign was himself and Chase. Now the only one who is supposed to know anything about that signal is the only of the two left alive. But how did this woman know it? Jon slipped into the commons hall molding ideas on how to sneak out of the barracks later that night and find a way past the night gaurd. He had to talk with this lady and find out how she knew his dead friend's signal.
© Copyright 2011 Anna Kylie (writesymphony at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1794745-The-Good-Soldier-Chapter-1