by M. J. Joachim
Exhaustion set in rapidly. Dick had no idea it would strike so fast. Hadn’t his rifle alerted his comrades of the terror? Where was everyone? Didn’t they know he needed to be rescued too? Why hadn’t they come back for him?
Gazing up at the…no, where was it? The moon and stars should be just overhead!
Too much smoke and ash clouded the view. Then flames, first only a few, until the fire grew, encompassing his entire surroundings. It was boiling hot, but the flames never touched him – only their smoke filtered through the air.
Dragged past blown up cars, Dick could see the American flag torn to shreds and on fire. He could hear the angry shrieks of all the people – people who threw rocks at him, kicked dust in his face, spat on him and reviled his very existence.
The crowd could not be contained. Orders in these situations were clear. Kill and be killed! He took a small grenade from inside his army vest, removed the pin and blew them all to smithereens.
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