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War of Dystopia
Author's note:
I wrote this short story for a writing project in English Language Arts class. The ending is a little disappointing because I ran out of time, but I plan on expanding the story later on.
CHAPTER I
Snow covered everything as far as the eye could see. I could hear the factories in the distance, producing everything our country would need for war. My family and I live just outside of the industrial district, which is where everything the government needs is produced. From processed foods, to kids toys, to military equipment. There’s a factory for everything here. There are 50 zones in the country, they used to call them states almost two hundred years ago during the Old Order. The 50 zones are divided into 5 territories, including the industrial district- my home, the agricultural district, the energy district, the science and development district, and the government district. All of which are named respectively. The industrial district is perhaps the poorest territory of them all, besides maybe the agricultural district. The government has complete authority over every citizen of the country. Nobody is allowed to leave the territories. Occasionally we’re allowed to move from district to district, but just briefly. People who enter the wilderness never come back and are never spoken of again. There are rumors that there's more to the world across the great waters but no man has ever seen such a place. The only other places that we know exist are The Mexican Union and Canada, which border our districts. No citizen of the 5 territories has ever seen or met anyone from the neighboring countries. Most people think the Mexicans are calm, cunning and docile people, and the Canadians are aggressive and barbaric. But, nobody has ever been able to confirm or deny either claim.
The industrial district that I live in has both extremes of weather, scolding hot summers and frigid winters. The people here are used to the vast differences since that's how it's been since they were born. As of right now it is the middle of winter, making it cold enough to freeze liquor. My family somehow makes time to spend with each other even after the 12 hour workdays. My brother, father and I work in the Jeep factory that is currently supplying munitions to the military blockade being set up at the border of Canada. My mother stays at home and takes care of the house and our pet goat named George.
One morning, I was walking to work on the cold, icy path that connects the factories to the residential area as a crowd of hundreds came stampeding towards me. These workers are tough, and I mean tough. So I know if they’re running, it’s serious. I turn around, running back to get my brothers and sisters as I get flattened by the blast, chunks of brick and concrete fly past me as the weapons and tactical equipment factory explodes. Dizziness overcomes my fear, life fades into darkness as the screams of terror ring out around me. The war has begun.
–
My eyes slowly flutter open as the pain medication wears off. “Good Morning” says my younger brother Alec. I ask the only thing I can think of to ask.“How bad is it?”
“Well, it’s pretty bad out there. The whole district was evacuated after the bombing. You’re lucky you got away with just a couple broken ribs.”
“How many are gone?” I ask.
“Thousands. By the time the evacuation started it was already too late.” He says sorrowfully.
“Mom and Dad?” I say with hope.
“Just me and you” he croaks. “Mom and dad were already in the factory, and the entire neighborhood is gone. The only reason I made it was because I was trying to get a christmas present for you. Here, The nurse brought you breakfast earlier.”
My head is spinning. How could this happen? How did the government not see it coming? My anger builds. “I’m joining the forces!” I say assertively.
“Then I am too,” he says.
“No you are not. You can’t.” I demand.
“Listen Atlas, we’re both adults, you can’t tell me what to do.”
“I guess you’re right,” I say.
After I’m released from the hospital, we head to the recruiting office. It’s packed with men and women of all ages trying to join after the bombing. Alec and I pass the physical and mental screenings with ease and are immediately shipped off to the nearest military base for training. Once we arrived we’re assigned bunks in the barracks, and luckily our bunks were right next to each other. “Do you think we're ready for this Atlas?” he asks. “We’ll be fine buddy. We Just have to get through training.” I tell him to cheer him up. I can tell he’s worried. “Why did you do this,” I asked him. “Because we are all we have left, we might as well stick together.”
CHAPTER II
The rest of the night was quiet. Nobody in the barrack said a word. Alec and I sat in our bunks, getting as much rest as we could, as we knew the next day would be agonizingly long. The barracks were a semi-enclosed structure, almost like a cabin, each housing 32 men. It had four walls, a roof, and a concrete slab for a floor, but the windows were made of mesh. It was humid and hot, making for a long and restless sweaty night.
In the morning, the drill sergeants made their introduction. “Listen up maggots. You mean nothing to me. You are replaceable and expendable. You have 1 minute to get dressed and ready for PT.” He screamed menacingly through the doorway. After we all got dressed and lined up outside, we got our equipment, which consisted of a standard issue rifle, a plate carrier, a backpack containing various items, and a ballistic helmet. After everyone was done gathering their equipment, we started running. It had rained slightly earlier that morning, and of course we were running through the muddiest part of the base. Alec and I stayed close by to each other, quietly chanting words of encouragement, just trying to make it through the day. Once the drill sergeant felt that we had run enough for that session, he had us get cleaned up in the showers and head to the mess hall for our first meal of basic training. The food was awful, and I mean awful, it was some brown gelatinous substance that smells vaguely of rotten beef and tasted even worse, along with a dry biscuit and a glass of something similar to pedialyte.
Once we had finished our meal, it was class time. When you sign up for the service, they have you pick a specialization to be trained in. Alec and I picked recon and communication for the sole purpose of eventually making it on a sharpshooter team. Growing up our dad took us hunting quite often, which resulted in both of us becoming quite the marksmen. We both felt that if we wanted to excel in a field, marksmanship was the way to go. The classes themselves were long and uninteresting, but we felt that we had to succeed with flying colors in these classes in order to make it where we really wanted to go. The classes were taught by this crabby, ancient teacher that nobody seemed to enjoy listening to. Nonetheless, The class today flew by effortlessly and the instructor informed us that he saw potential in our abilities.
Sure enough, our efforts were not in vain. By the next week they had announced the placements for new recruits, including Alec and I. Not only did we get a placement on a marksman team, but we were placed in the 501st division, which is the most elite team of snipers in the world. I guess that means the teacher was impressed with us. Since our placement was of such a prestigious level, the other recruits didn’t exactly like us from that point on. But, our first deployment as a sniper team was only two weeks later, and it was a very long two weeks.
-
The deployment began, and that morning would unknowingly be the last morning I would spend with my brother. As we were boarding the helicopter that would take us into Mexico to the frontlines, the pilot informed us that they were having some difficulties with the aircraft. Later in the flight, those difficulties became very apparent when we suddenly lost all power and plummeted to the ground uncontrollably. The explosion of the helicopter coming in contact with the hard desert ground killed the pilot, copilot, our commanding officer, and my brother. We crashed in the desert somewhere south of the border. The radio in the helicopter didn't work and the personal radios we carried on us couldn’t get a signal from anywhere. Once again, the government disappoints with its ill prepared war efforts that have landed me without a brother and stranded in the desert with three strangers and no supplies. I want so badly to be able to call for a medic, but there is no way that I can. Nobody will hear me, no radio will broadcast me. The basic first aid that the rest of the unit knows is not enough to save them, and we’re left with three. I technically am the new commanding officer since everyone else here is just on communication and I’m on recon, which is a higher rank.
So, I try to stay calm and collected, and lead what's left of the team to the closest village where we set up camp. One of the other men on the team, whose nickname is Friendly, talks to the locals to see if they have any ability to contact the Airforce base. No luck, not a soul out here wants to help us, let alone aid in bringing more of us into their village.
The night was cold and windy, we claimed an old abandoned shack as our shelter for the night, which wasn’t the best but it was the only viable choice. The darkness outside only reminds me of what I have endured today. Not even just today, the past month has been the worst of my life. I’m left with nobody and I haven’t even slowed down enough to think about it until now. I begin to shiver in the cold and decide to go outside with the others. They build a fire and are all sitting around it. Apparently one of the locals decided to help us out a little and gave us some fresh coyote meat, so the guys are cooking it over open flame on the ends of their rifles. While I sit here with these three men I met less than a week ago, I can't help but wonder how I ended up here. What decisions did I mess up so badly to end up stranded in a desert with no way home and no way to contact anyone. We all decide to get some sleep and Friendly takes the first watch.
As I'm closing my eyes, slowly dozing off into whatever horrible dreams await me, there's a bright flash of light. I open my eyes to see a missile travelling through the sky. No, it's travelling toward us.
The missile crashes onto the roof of a small building across the street, obliterating that side of the block in its entirety. The blast was loud enough to deafen me and knock me off my feet. I find Friendly already taking cover behind a wall that’s half-demolished and join him there with my rifle in hand. He spots a convoy coming toward us from the same direction as the missile and we simultaneously realize that the convoy was American.
CHAPTER III
The whole team jumps out and waves their arms at the convoys, screaming and hollering about being saved. Then they started shooting. Friendly and I quickly jumped back behind the wall but realized rounds were travelling right through it. We jumped down on the ground belly first with our feet pointing at the convoy, waiting for them to let up. We didn't know what to do, we couldn’t shoot back or we’d never be welcome back home. So, we just laid there and waited. The convoy drove through the small village unloading hundreds of rounds into various buildings and houses. Then they just left. They drove right through town, stopped shooting, and just kept driving.
One of our men was shot and killed, everyone else was unharmed. I just wonder if those men know what they were doing. Friendly said one of the locals told him that the convoy probably thought we were traitors. The locals explained to Friendly that their government uses a system called democracy, Which we had never heard of. They explained that they get to choose their officials based on a voting system. It had never crossed my mind that the same people that were in power 20 years ago are still in power now, but now I realize how oppressive our government might be. The locals also said that they are allowed to go wherever they choose, work wherever they want, and do whatever they please. A concept like that was so foreign to us that we just stared at each other in awe, wondering what it would be like to work wherever or do whatever. One of the younger men of the village went on to explain that this village was a designated safe haven for the Mexican Alliance that was attacking my home country. He told us that the Mexican Alliance had finally decided to liberate my people after 200 years of oppressive rule. At this moment, My men and I decided to join the Alliance. We would give inside information and possibly become spies to assist the Mexican Alliance in our liberation.
–
Many months go by, and the Mexican alliance, along with the help of some natives and my men, have organized the largest invasion in human history. Long story short, the plan is for Mexico to push north while Canada pushes south, effectively sandwiching my home country. They would then push further west, cutting off access to the pacific ocean, making their navy obsolete in the fight. Hopefully, their navy will not have enough time to get to the East coast before we take over the capital. Once we gain control of the Agricultural district, we will evacuate the district and break the three major dams keeping that whole area from becoming a lake. Once the Agricultural District is taken, the capitol will have no food supply, and will become weaker and weaker. As we go along, we are hoping to get civilians to join our side to strengthen our numbers beyond the government’s capabilities to defend against, guaranteeing our victory.
The Invasion begins tomorrow, and I'm being shipped out to Canada to push through the great lakes, where they have 3 battleships waiting -one for each dam. I’m commanding the small fleet, and logistically, we will not survive. As soon as those dams break loose the current will pull the ships over the edge into the empty basin. Water will pour over us, filling the ships, leaving us under 100 feet of water. But, I’m hoping I can maneuver the ships in a way that can get us over into a neighboring lake before getting sucked in.
–
The ships are in place, it’s around 2 hours until the launch of the attack. We're getting ready to set sail when a squadron of fighter jets passes overhead. “New plan. We are destroying the dams, effective immediately. Evacuate your troops from the water before it's too late. You have two minutes.” says the general heading the attack over the radio. two minutes? The ships are in the middle of the lake, we can't just evacuate. We’re too far away from the shore to make it in two minutes, we wouldn’t even make it in fifteen minutes. I decided not to relay the information to the rest of the battalion. As I was accepting our fate, the waters broke loose, and so did the ships. I grabbed onto a flagpole as the stern smacked against the waves. These were the largest waves I had ever seen in my entire life. The boat swayed back and forth until we hit the biggest wave head on, sending us up into the air about 50 feet. The ship tipped back and it looks like it’s about to flip ov-
The End
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