We broke in the compound and immediately stretched forces to cover the maze of halls working their paths to the center of an object that had our communication signal glitching. Jefferson smacked my helmet and I started following him.

I panted in my mask, looked at the Jefferson’s back as he carefully walked forward, swiped his rifle aside, looked again and checked his guidance system. He tended to tap his helmet and make electronics get back to their senses, but this time it didn’t work.

– Larson, McPatrick come in you idiots. – he whispered, shook his head and murmured a curse before he looked if I was still there and moved forward.

Some sick light lured us in the room where glowing pillars of liquid ran up and down without an end. We’ve found ourselves on a platform, a metallic see through floor with some haze levitating under us.

– Is she here? – I asked, my helmet light playing games, flickering at Jefferson’s irritated face.

– Damn it. Shut it off! If I saw better, I wouldn’t drag you with me. The fuck did you pretenders joined the force when you don’t know the first thing about tactical maneuver. – he said and again shook his head with a silent curse, and then he moved forward, his rifle locked in shoulder.

Months in force still haven’t melted his attitude towards me. All the older policemen tended to push us around, play with us like lions with their cubs. Instead of showing us how to properly do our work, they loved yelling at us. It’s just something that goes from generation to generation.

Eager to prove myself, I overlapped him and took over the lead, when he pulled me back.

– Don’t you ever stop in the line of fire dumbfuck! – his voice echoed in the spacious chamber, and then he shoved me behind him and took back aim at the circling path that enveloped the gigantic glow sticks.

Short buzz and a bullet jerked Jefferson. Just when metal clanking of his shielding rang a strong shot vibrated in the air. I grabbed his collar and started pulling him back.

– Man down! Man down! We have a sniper! – the sound of my voice was the only one to travel in waves, my steps thudding on a platform.

I looked at the Jefferson and saw his mask throwing sparks where bullet hit him. His lifeless eyes looked at me while blood came in his mouth. All I could do is cry right there, fight for breath and fear for the sniper to miss his next shot.

– Damn it! Somebody answer! – I screamed holding Jefferson in my lap, sitting and looking around the complex.

This agony was prolonged for a fifteen minutes, and then I started going back the path we came from, carrying Jefferson on my back. For some weird reason, I was unable to find our way out.


Dead Soldier Dronstad

Facebook & Twitter social links where I share my post regularly.

And some other stories.

Shedding light – Drifting Shadows

Fog of war

Mechanic Love


22 thoughts on “Youngblood

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