Prisoner of War - Prologue
#1 of Prisoner of War
I sighed as I stabbed my shovel in the ground and flipped up another patch of soil. It was a stupid cause, but I suppose it was the one I was chosen to fight. It was not my choice. I bent down and placed another land mine in the ground, letting the soil flop down over it before arming it. This war had already cost me two friends and I was still in shock after roaming the battlefield of my first skirmish. It's amazing what we do without thinking about it. Kill, or be killed, life, death, the whole thing was still fresh in my mind. It was hard to stay calm with all the bullets flying through the air. Splattering mud made it hard to see who was shooting or where to fire back. I could hardly see what I was to shoot at and at the same time, terrified that someone would accidentally shoot my from behind. It was a chaotic nightmare and I was scared it would happen again.
A bang off in the distance caught my attention. My eyes darted to the side and caught a glimpse of a rising puff of smoke. They had started fighting again and I was going to have no part of it. Another quick glance around told me that I was alone. I took a deep breath and vented my frustration with a long drawn out howl and threw my shovel into the air. It spun around twice and planted itself into the ground right in the middle of the minefield. There was no way I'd be going after it, so it was then that I decided to run. Nothing in the world was worth this, nothing. Staying wasn't going to get me anywhere, but back on the battlefield. It wouldn't bring back my friends, it wouldn't get me back home, and it wouldn't bring me back to my family. Running away, who knew what that would bring?
I bolted for a near by stretch of woods as fast as I could and kept going for a few minutes before I had to catch my breath. Despite my training, I was still in poor shape; I was never meant to be a soldier. The light was dimmer in the forest, easier on the eyes and a wonderful green hue enveloped everything. A quiet rustling of leaves in the wind dulled the noises of the outside world. It felt like the forest was welcoming me. For a moment it seemed like it would be a safe place to hide.
I flopped over into the dense green underbrush and spread out my limbs into the soft blanket of leaves. Then came the question of where I wanted to go. I very well couldn't go back home now that they had shipped me half way around the world. My heart longed for some peace. This forest seemed like a good place to find it, but I knew that if I stayed there, I'd be caught, it was too close to camp. A hiding spot would need to be out of the way so I began to think about mountains and snow, and skiing and all the fun I used to have there. The forest canopy disappeared for a moment as I blinked, my eyes were starting to water and a tear rolled down my cheek. I swallowed trying to hold back the tears and shuddered at the rough grinding in my parched throat. Working out in the sun getting that field planted made me quite dehydrated. As I picked up my canteen, I decided that if I were going to hide, it would have to be some place semi-civilised, like a small farming village. I sat up and took a nice big gulp of water before screwing the lid back on. There was a quiet rustling of leaves behind me and then the wind picked up and it was all around me again. I gave it no heed as the rhythmic pounding of explosion after explosion carried on in the background. A decision I began to regret as soon as I flopped back down to find myself looking down the barrel of a gun.
He was a tall figure, though I suppose anyone would seem tall poised over your head ready to kill you at any moment. My body went limp and I forced my eyes closed, expecting everything to come to a rather abrupt end. "Don't move," the figure insisted as he pressed the heel of his boot against my throat. I wasn't really in a position to argue as he pulled my pistol from its holster and unbuckled my knife from my ankle. His hands patted up and down my legs checking me over quickly. A hand slipped into my pants and quickly ran across my belly causing my heart to jump. He briefly patted my breast pockets and ran his hands down the length of my sleeves. Convinced that I was no longer dangerous, he took his throat off my neck and said, "Get up."