They made me run into the bunker. Dirt flew in my eyes making me stumble over the crate, merged with the slippery mud. I have lost my handgun in the deep boot print filled with water. What an ill fortune is to lose the only weapon I had.
A guy with a flamethrower was outside, pouring the heat all over the walls. He yelled something offencive and followed me with a stream of fire. Somehow I reached the corner and found a dark opening, framed with thick concrete. It said X29 above it, where the last number was missing, taken down by our artillery fire. What is an ordinary messenger boy doing in the open battlefield? – I wondered, while jamming the metal door. Captain sent me to find our boys and tell them to retreat, because our radio shack was hit by a projectile big as an armoured vehicle.
– They will need something ‘more’ to open this vault. – I thought laughing, proud of myself for delaying my death.
A turn, and there was our grenade, hitting the base of the hill under which the bunker was located. Those artillery asshole smugs have buried me alive! I guess I’ll have to wait for our advance to reach this point and save me, but that can go for days. What am I going to do for all that time?
Someone coughed in silence. I moved slowly aside and saw a man in the corner, leaned against the wall, hiding behind the enormous table in the center of the room. Candle lit his dirty pale face, his bloody uniform and a bag he held so frightened. Pistol was on the table, and I grabbed it in anger, pointed at the wounded enemy and pulled the trigger. Nothing came out from the short barrel, so I kneeled down on his chest and started to hit him madly, grinding my teeth and cursing with every smash that made him spit blood. I threw the pistol and wrapped my arms around his neck. He didn’t even try to defend, he just held the bag in a panic fear like it was some sort of treasure. I couldn’t kill him, not when he was watching me like that, like a puppy calling for the bitch that brought him to this world of piss. I sat on the table and pulled out my cigarettes. I tossed him one, and he placed fire on it.
I gasped, knowing that this symbiosis will probably last for few days. I will kill him when our boys come… if they ever come.
For more fresh topics, search Dronstad in your Facebook.