Chpt.10 rendezvous north
Chpt.10 rendezvous north
I grabbed the out stretched paw and held on for dear life grabbing my rucksack and weapon with the other, we began to run the red and green colours of tracers zooming past us, I kept stumbling coughing up blood and collapsing due to the fall, but Kyle didn't give up he held onto me for dear life as I did to him, holding hands isn't gay when its saving your life.
As we began to run up a hill the fire began to stop and all there was now was the rain, as we climbed the hill further we began to see an orange glow, still running with the adrenaline fuelling our movements and I was beginning to recover. When we reached the top of the steep hill we collapsed in exhaustion panting for breath with the rain cooling us, I turned round to see the origin of the glow and I immediately sat up freezing where I was. The orange glow was Belfast, my home town, burning to the ground; Kyle did the same when he saw the amazing yet horrific sight. Kyle turned to me in despair and asks the simplest of question as he was being flooded with anguish "what do we do?" I lay down on the soaked ground still panting. I stared into the sky whilst gathering my thoughts, and for one brief moment the smoke cleared and I saw the millions of lights in the dark abbess, and then, as if someone had flicked a switch they disappeared. That when it came to me, I sprung up and shouted "rendezvous north!!!"
"Ya mean Camp Moscow???"Kyle inquired
"Yea it'll still be intact"
Kyle raised one eye brow in confusion "I thought that place was a myth???"
I smirked a little saying "heh no its where we are supposed to go in case of a nuclear attack, they made it in the cold war, so wanna try it???"
After a deep intake of breath Kyle said "aint got any more options..."he then sighed and nodded.
So we began to run as far and as fast as we possibly could leaving behind the nearly extinguished remnants of the city and eventually we found ourselves in the Antrim platue, a mountain range just passed Belfast, we made a temporary camp, and the first bit of business was my injuries, as I had fell from the greatest height Kyle decided I needed looked at, I took of my all my kit except my boxers and Kyle began inspecting the skin under the fur poking, sanitizing and stitching, when he was done three hours later I looked like I had been attacked by a samurai wrapped up like a mummy and at least 40 new scars forming.
It was quite up there, on the mountain side, it makes you almost philosophical, you see all these huge lumps of rock scattered around you, and you realise that these stones are older than you; they are older than anything you know. It puts into perspective how small you are, and makes you realise that you are but a blip on the radar compared to these goliaths. Every day way moved closer to camp Moscow, filled with hope but surrounded by this amazing landscape the has harboured the Irish people for centuries.
Upon our arrival at camp Moscow the hope that had been pushing us the whole way here simply plummeted, as we saw the heaps of bodies containing soldiers and civilians alike. We climbed on top of a broken tank, lay down our gear and sat there in silence; we proceeded in true British fashion to make three cups of tea, one for Kyle. One for me and, one for the dead. We toasted them in silence, as the sunset over the gigantic nuclear bunker, and the bodies of dead comrades we sat in silence.
That was until we heard the deafening clanking of gargantuan locks un-bolting...