In the center of the village, everyone was running around even the active infantry, which he rarely saw working alongside them. It seemed that the rebel base had been hosted here at the epicenter where the populace came together. They had been instructed to demolish all fortified structures and scour the area for hidden entrances, tunnels, and such that may lead to areas of interest.

Garrick didn’t know exactly where to start, so he took a light stroll along the perimeter. What caught his eye immediately was how well the rebels had been organized and outfitted. Suppose you could exclude the ill-fitted teenage soldiers that were present. They had everything from mortars to machine guns and anti-air emplacements.

They were being funded by someone. Likely the Atlantic Republic foes from up north or the Pacific.

Down the road, a crime was happening in real-time. Two men, who were of his peers, seemed to be looting everything. A teacup set, clothing that belonged to whoever was the victim, rare electronics, and such. Which was irregular, as the A.I. made an effort to chastise you for nonessential items. Their ankle monitors were missing from their legs as well. He didn’t even wanna know and strolled by.

They were likely using some kind of jailbroken, A.I. software to obscure themselves from it.

They eyed him as he walked past. Gave him a nasty look. The look that said, you didn’t see anything and you won’t be saying anything. He made sure not to stare them in the eye.

He had wondered before if he should get involved with one of the gangs, that ran an illegal black bazaar in the worker dormitories. The threat of being caught however could result in an extra few years added to his sentence, which wasn’t worth it in his opinion. It was much better suited for someone stuck there for life. Every week someone would be taken away from the dorm. Only to be never seen again, always blamed for activities related such as this.

John, he could see from afar was quick at work. One body after the other body. Compared to Garrick, with his bare minimum quota filled, he was demotivated at the thought of further work. He only needed to look like he was working.

“Garrick! You don’t look busy.” John said with a tinge of annoyance. “There’s a tunnel on the other side of that swinging bridge down there. Why don’t you check out will ya.”

He pointed to a bridge, above the flooded waterway, that flew the center of the town, it connected to a mountainside.

Oh. If only John hadn’t said a word.

“Sure, I’ll check it out for what it’s worth…”

He hoped that it would be uneventful and boring. The last thing he wanted to was to get scratched by some tunneling mutant.

The swinging bridge was an uncomfortable prospect, if the ground wasn’t irregularly flooded below he’d gotten across the other way. There was a walkable path leading below. The whole thing seems to lack any sorted maintenance, It probably wasn't maintained. Unraveling thick rope, that could break under pressure at any moment. Old decaying planks, and barely what you could consider a railing. Worn and torn. The bridge was unsafe.

He took a deep breath, taking slow one by step on the planks. Every time his foot stepped on an aging plank it would creek and the whole thing would rock from one side to the other.

He peered below at the flooded water, didn’t seem safe. Almost like Stillwater, what were the chances that it had been completely irradiated by the Atlantic military arsenal?

The Atlantic military didn't fight like the Western nations they were brutal. Conquest, not subjugation.

Once he was halfway across, he sped up his pace. One of the planks he stepped on detached from the rocking structure falling to the ground. He pressed on and jumped off the structure near the end.

The tunnel entrance almost looked comical. Like a big obscure hole. He didn't know why but he found it, very funny indeed. It wasn’t very tactically obscure, he doubted they used it for military applications.

As he took a look step inside, he noticed immediately the overgrown moss and mushrooms, which plagued the wall of the tunnel. The walking path however was cleared of such things. The presence of man-made activity. He crept inside, lowering his neck so he wouldn’t hurt his back or hit his head.

Sound was partially isolated from the outside world. Not too far in, he could hear small footsteps. They were way too small to be an adult soldier, perhaps a female survivor one of the few that couldn’t evacuate.

He started picking up the pace, and the footsteps picked up too but went deeper into the tunnel instead of coming toward him. He starts to see visuals of light being displayed from afar.

There in the middle of the carved-out tunnel, lay a computer system attached upside-down, monitors beaming light in his direction. Plenty of tables were stacked with papers and shit.

‘Intelligence, just his luck, he was going to be granted extra social credit. If he could get these papers back, in one piece.’

There was nothing else in the cave, only four directions that who knew led where. Knowing full well that someone else was inside, he took the papers off the table and stuffed them in the bag. He trailed back and retraced his steps just in case he didn’t step in the wrong direction.

When he turns his back away from the other holes. He could hear a trigger, being let loose. Safety off. Someone was holding a gun against him. He could feel the weight of the gun, being used against him.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

What did he say, just his luck. He should've been more conscious of such situations. As He turns around, he is shocked by what he sees.

There stood a young girl, no more older than 14 or 13. Her dark skin bounced off the light, hair was braided backward. She stood in an Isosceles position, hips apart, sweat trickling down her face. Both of her small hands struggled to contain the pistol steadily.

“Stop, why did you come here? Why do you bring death and destruction here.”

She had an irregular accent, one that was understandable for the locals.

He did not answer her, it was prohibited to speak or leak any kind of information should one find themselves being held hostage. He’d be punished for it.

“Answer me!”

He wanted to tell her. He wouldn’t mind complaining to her. He wanted to get it off his chest. He wanted to say ‘Hey, I’m as much of a victim as you are.’ He wanted to say ‘Hey, I’m here against my own will, I’d leave if I could.’ but he couldn’t say anything.

He backed up slowly, hoping that he could escape before she put lead in him.

“Stop don’t move! She aimed away from him, letting out a warning shot.

Zoom!

The bullet met the rocky walls and changed trajectory, colliding with his plate.

‘Thank god for the plate for this dumbass plate.’

Just then, loud whistling could be heard from above. Both of them looked up in the air. Garrick was a bit confused. She wasn’t.

“That datapad, hand it over.”

He didn’t he held it firm and waited for her to approach him. It would be much easier to explain. If it was taken from him. He would hear it in the barracks. ‘You let a little girl hassle you at gunpoint’

He could also shoot her, though he wasn’t obligated to. He wasn't going to shoot a child. He refused to.

She grabbed it out of his hands. And retreated back, she took note of the weapon he had on him. Questioning whether she should grab it from him. The whistling had stopped and explosions started rocking the town.

Did she not see him take papers?

A voice announced itself from the datapad.

“Delta-2, retreat ... Delta-2, back to the carrier.” It was his officer.

Time to retreat.

He was pissed. This has happened several times now, over and over again. They had been led into a deliberate ambush, he did not like being used as a disposable toy.

She lowered her gun, and her expression softened.

“Go! Leave! You need to leave now. You wouldn’t want to be captured alive by my brothers in arms.” Garrick did nothing, wary of her intent. She had all the reason to put several holes in him.

He nodded to her and turned his back making his way towards the entrance.

“Go!” she shouted.

He moved slowly at first hoping not to invite her anger any further.

She misfired again, this time the bullet nearly crashed into his leg.

“Get out!”

He ran, peering back at her holding the datapad. A sad expression on her face. He could already see some dropships taking off and others were landing. The others were larger transports, clearly the reintroduction of the Atlantic offensive units. The people here must have been desperate if they were willing to shell their own village.

“Garrick!", a voice called out from the other side, of the troublesome bridge. It was John.

What was he standing around for?

“Get going John, I’m right behind you!” He held out his thumb, hoping it would deter his friend from waiting for him.

His friend nodded and took off towards the beachhead.

The swingbridge stood in his path once again. But this time he had no time for safety endeavors. Holding onto the bridge railing he sprinted across as fast as he could, every second plank he crossed broke off falling into the water below. Just as he reached the end, he misstepped, one of his legs was hanging down, and he could only cling to the rope railing, his body strength was barely enough but he managed to slowly climb up. Gripping the solid ground on the other side.

An artillery shell landed in the water behind him, sending a massive wave of toxic water on him, causing him to fall to the ground. He stood up, spitting out the water that had entered his mouth. Leaving a nasty aftertaste on his tongue.

Another shell landed not too far from him. Sending dirt and pieces of concrete in his direction. Which luckily missed. He got his bearings together, deciding it was better to leave his ‘harvest’ so he could sprint better, he made for the beachhead.

He passed the center of where he was earlier, another shell nearly colliding with him but still within the blast radius sent him tumbling downhill. The Vtol carriers were in sight and all were being loaded by personnel. He could see John and his squad down there and made haste.

Sprinting as if he had nothing to lose. His ankle monitor had stopped working and he ripped the damn thing off. He could pay it back with social credit, he couldn't get his life back if he lost it.

Nearing the very first set of village houses, he trips and falls to the ground unexpectedly. He was pulled back by something. One of his dying co-workers whose legs were blown off, grabbed him by his own.

“Please, help me…” his grip was tight and Garrick, tried his best to get him off.

“I know you, Garrick, right? Please man I got a family back home. I need to see them again.”

Guilt. By the time he’d return with this crippled man, he would be late. They take off before him.

‘I’m sorry man, I'm sorry.” he pushed the man down. Making him roll into the crater, caused by the artillery shell.

"Help me!!! Please."

He ignored the man's plea.

Sprinting towards the beachhead, the Ships had already taken off. His crew was in the air, they were already flying off.

They had left him behind.

“Garrick!” He could see John hanging out of the metal frame of the VTOL carrier, calling out to him. He was barely dangling out. Someone was holding him back, his officer in command. “The boat Garrick, get to the boat.”

The boat?!

There were emergency boats stationed near the beachhead.

His ribs were aching and his body was sore. But he did his best to struggle his way there, out of breath and energy. The small boat resembled a dinghy but had an all-electric motor. It was a few meters away, he didn’t have much experience using it. But he would do his best.

He got on it. Tapping the start button.

Authorization not applicable please identify yourself.

He kept touching his finger on the scanner. Unable to hold it still shivering and shaking

Authorization not applicable please identify yourself.

“Stupid fucking machine!”

Authorization accepted for emergency purposes.

The boat engine jump-started to life. He breathed a sigh of relief, he might make it after all.

How would you like to maneuver this vehicle?

Manuel or automatic.

“Automatic! Automatic! Automatic!”

“Where would you like this unit to take you.”

“Seapoint 5872.”

Sorry, repeat that

“Seapoint 5872. Seapoint 5872. Seapoint 5872. Seapoint 5872..” he kept repeating over and

“Confirmed.”

The boat took off, he could see John in the distance waving from the small carrier.

He waved back.

He fell on his back, he was going to close his eyes. Hopefully, some sea monster wouldn’t throw him off the boat.

Speaking of devils. He could hear whistling heading in his direction, he sat upright and turned his back. The sound became louder, he could faintly see the shell traveling through the air. A tracer shell. It seemed to be moving in his direction.

“I’m fucked.”

The massive shell fell behind him in the water and then exploded. Sending the boat upside down, the sea swallowed him whole. Pieces of boat shrapnel stuck in him, he struggled to breathe. Cold and suffocating, his limbs were heavy and his body ached in pain. His sight turned into a murky blur and then the world went silent.

His home was all he thought about at that moment. He would never see his younger brother grow up. He’d never see his parents again, he would never visit the farm John invited him to. He would die here as an insignificant being.