Life After: Episode 2

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Authors: JJ Holden

Tags: #Thriller, #short story, #War

BOOK: Life After: Episode 2
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Life After

 

Episode 2

 

by

JJ Holden

 

Following a civil war that left the United States in
ruins, the remaining few who managed to escape the Imperialistic
Army and the horrors of their death camps must unite and fight to
reclaim their country.

 

Copyright © 2014 by JJ Holden

jjholdenbooks.blogspot.com

 

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment
only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
If you would like to share this book with another person, please
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this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your
use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your
own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this
author.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters,
and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons,
living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely
coincidental.

 

 

* * *

 

Clark heard his boots crunch against the dry twigs
that littered the forest floor. Jeff walked by his side through the
countless trees as they made their way south to join the rebellion
to fight against the Imperialistic Army that left the United States
in shambles. He heard the wind pass through the branches. Another
storm was on the way. He also heard the boy and the man walking
behind him. He was glad they stayed to ensure their safety. He
reflected on the fact that without them, the boy and the man would
be cooking over an open flame, ready to be consumed by the savages
created by the fallout.

“So what are your names?” Jeff asked.

The man spoke in a soft voice. “My name is Charles.
Why are you wearing those uniforms?”

“We aren’t who you think we are,” Clark said. “We may
be wearing the Imperial stormtrooper uniforms, but we aren’t one of
them. I guess we’re just keeping the uniforms on in case we run
into an Imperial loyalist.”

“Why is this happening?” the boy asked with a voice
that was even smaller than he was.

“Thomas,” the man said to the boy abruptly, “I don’t
think you should—”

Clark cut Charles off for the second time, though he
didn’t do so out of malice. “I don’t mind answering that,” he said.
“Let’s just say the general public had the wool pulled over their
eyes during time of great need. The popular vote brought Robert
Skelton into office, but the public had no idea of his intentions.
They had no idea that he was National Socialist cloaked as a
Democrat who claimed to fight for freedom. The destruction of the
Empire State Building and most of Manhattan in 2020 was not an act
of terrorism…it was Skelton who orchestrated those attacks to
instill fear on the entire nation, and he rode in on his so-called
white horse of benevolence to save the day.”

“The public definitely acted out of fear,” Jeff said.
“They voted for whoever promised them the most. The economy was a
mess and Skelton offered each and every household an annual
stipend. He basically paid his way into office with tax payer
money.”

“The loyalists still act out of fear,” Clark said.
“They think that the rebels are a terrorist cell that needs to be
destroyed. They think we are the reason the county is in the shape
it’s in.”

“Which is why they don’t feel remorse for putting the
rebels in concentration camps,” Charles said.

Clark started up an incline and felt the cool breeze
of the on-coming storm flow through his blond hair. “Precisely,” he
said. “Whoever isn’t for Skelton is against him, or so they say. So
the rebels must be quarantined until the war is over. They think
that the rebels are just being held there. The footage they’ve seen
of the camps show favorable conditions. They have no idea about the
prisoners being lined up and gunned down each and every day to make
room for more. They have no idea about the incinerators. They don’t
know of the gas chambers, nor of what they do to the unfortunate
souls who are born into such horrible places.”

“We were stationed at a camp a few months ago,” Jeff
said. “I was a sharpshooter before they made me go to that
horrendous place to do their dirty work. I couldn’t do it, though.
I couldn’t kill innocent people. And so I fled along with Clark. I
still think about those people there. I have nightmares to this
day…”

Clark turned to the look at the boy. “I’m sorry all
of this is happening. I really am. We need to find other survivors
and do something.”

Jeff shrugged “If we don’t then who will? Canada and
Mexico have their hands tied. They fear that Skelton will invade
their countries after he is finished liquefying the dissenters in
his own.”

“And what about the United Nations?” Charles asked.
“Why aren’t they stepping in at a time like this?”

“The member states of the UN have their own problems.
Besides, Skelton has convinced them that there are no concentration
camps,” Clark said.

Charles’s voice raised slightly and his face grew
red. “I find that hard to believe,” he said. “They can easily see
satellite imagery that shows—”

“Not since he nationalized the mapping companies and
the tech companies who release those images with their mapping
programs,” Clark said. “They are only showing older aerial photos.
It’s a big cover-up. If anything, countries like France, Germany,
and Russia might even send troops over to
help
Skelton. They think he’s
trying to save the world or something, though he’s trying to use
the worldwide calamity to further his reach. To further his
empire…”

Gunfire erupted nearby.

“Over there,” Jeff said, pointing to a group of trees
that were situated near the edge of a drop-off.

“Stay here,” Clark said to Charles and Thomas. He and
Jeff approached the trees and peered down the hill. Near the bottom
of the hill were four soldiers, all looking down at several bodies
that lay near a stream. A boy remained standing near the adults
that were slaughtered.

“My God,” Jeff said.

Clark heard the booming voice of the commanding
officer as his three subordinates aimed their guns at the boy.
“What the hell are you waiting for?”

None of the soldiers answered. They just stood there,
aiming. All waiting for someone else to pull the trigger. Obviously
they were fine with killing the adults in the group of rebels, but
were hesitant to kill the brown-haired boy who shivered
uncontrollably.

“We need to do something,” Clark said.

There was silence.

Finally, Jeff spoke meekly. “We’re outnumbered. Even
if we do something, they’ll kill the boy, then us…”

“Remember,” Clark started, “we are wearing the same
uniforms as them. I have an idea.”

Without hesitation, Clark stepped to the edge of the
hill and fell to his knees. Waving his arms in the air, he yelled
to the soldiers. “Help!”

All of the soldiers looked up at Clark.

“I’m out of ammunition, and I’m being chased by
rebels,” he screamed. “Help!”

“Come down here,” the commanding officer said.

“I can’t,” Clark said. “My right leg is busted up
pretty bad. I won’t make it down in time before they catch up with
me.”

“I’ll kill the boy myself,” the officer said, pulling
the boy towards him. “Go take care of those rebels.”

The three soldiers started up the hill. Clark turned
around to look at Jeff, who remained behind a tree. “Take out the
commander,” he said.

Moving out slightly from the tree, he saw that the
boy was in the way of his target. He steadied his aim and waited.
“Move, you bastard,” he said under his breath.

Just then, Jeff saw the commander throw the boy to
the ground and aim his pistol at him. Jeff squeezed off a single
shot that pierced the commander’s skull. The commander’s pistol
dropped to the ground and hit the ground seconds before his body
followed suit.

Clark grabbed his rifle and aimed it down the hill.
“A little help,” he said, hoping Jeff heard him. He fired off two
shots before he heard Jeff’s rifle to his left. One of the soldiers
took a bullet to the chest and fell backward. The other two
crouched and aimed their rifles up the hill. Each fired a shot. The
tree by which Jeff stood took the first bullet. Jeff’s left arm
took the second. Jeff held back his agony and leaned out farther to
get a better aim at the soldiers who were now in a near-prone
position on the incline.

Jeff squeezed off a shot that hit one of the soldiers
in the temple. The last remaining soldier sat up and fired upon
Jeff, hitting him in the chest.

Clark screamed out for Jeff but it was too late. He
rose, lifted his rifle and aimed it down the hill at the soldier.
The soldier looked into Clark’s eyes a split second before reacting
to the imminent danger. He turned to aim, but it was too late.
Clark had fired the first shot with such precision, even Jeff would
have been proud. The bullet careened through the moist air beneath
the forest canopy and into the right eye of the soldier.

Clark rushed over to Jeff, but there was nothing he
could do to save him.

“Jeff!” Clark screamed.

Clark stared at Jeff as he lay motionless on the
blood-stained soil and realized that he had lost his last remaining
friend.

 

 

* * *

 

The boy stood at the bottom of the hill, still
shaking. Still horrified by what had transpired. He had just
witnessed the death of his father and brother at the hands of the
soldiers that now lay in bloody messes all over the forest
floor.

Up the steep incline, he saw one remaining soldier
standing over a body, perhaps the body of the person who attempted
to intervene. After a few minutes, the soldier, with a rifle by his
side, descended the hill. The boy’s heart pounded even faster.

The boy ran away from the carnage and away from the
man who pursued him.

He heard the man’s voice ring out. “Wait!”

The boy did not hesitate to run faster.

“I’m trying to help you!”

Faster yet, away from the calls of the man. The man
who probably wanted him dead.

The boy thought of his short life. He wasn’t ready to
die. Not more than ten minutes prior, he was facing death. His life
flashed through his mind then and now again with the solider in hot
pursuit.

As he ran, he tried to keep his footing, avoiding the
large roots that jutted out from the loose soil. He successfully
dodged a few particularly large roots as he sprinted towards an
unknown destination. Towards an unknown everything.

Just as he thought he’d have a chance at getting
away, a root seemed to almost grab him by the ankles and drag him
down. Like the time his older brother pulled him into the deep end
of the pool as a silly prank, only this time, he knew it wouldn’t
be a silly prank. It would be the end of him.

He didn’t think of the days he spent in school before
the collapse. Several years had passed since he stopped going to
school, so his mind was littered with memories of the recent past.
Instead of thinking of his past life, he thought of the day he lost
his mother a few months prior. Then he thought of his father and
brother. He closed his eyes and wished upon everything that it was
all a nightmare, but when he reopened them, he was still on the
soggy ground. Still at the mercy of his oncoming adversary.

Then he heard a pair of boots pressing into the soggy
soil. He lay still, hoping the monster would take after the T-Rex
he remembered reading about. Don’t move and he won’t see you! Don’t
move and you’ll live!

The sound of boots stopped, and a voice took over the
silence. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Then he heard another voice, that of a boy around his
age. “He won’t.”

The boy looked back and saw the soldier, a man in
civilian clothing, and a young boy. He had beaten death for the
time being, but as he found out over the past few years, the looks
of those saying they are trying to help you are deceiving. Only
time would tell if his intuition would get the best of him.

 

 

* * *

 

Thomas walked beside the boy as they continued south.
Nobody spoke as they went. Then, Thomas’s voice broke the
silence.

“I’m Thomas,” he said to the boy. “What’s your
name?”

The boy glared at Thomas.

Thomas knew how the boy must have felt, having just
lost his family. “I’m sorry.”

Thomas saw the boy look at him again, this time his
face red with anger.

“I lost my father six months ago,” Thomas said. “I
was heading up north from Philadelphia, because my dad heard that
there were refugee camps in the wilderness up in Tioga County. On
the way, maybe past Williamsport a bit, he was killed by a lone
soldier. I managed to get away, but part of me wishes the soldier
would have killed me and spared my dad.”

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