Shadow of Fallujah

Reads: 107  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Justin is drawn into an organization to stop a sinister plot to destroy the human population.

Submitted: May 04, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 04, 2011

A A A

A A A


Justin was drunk as usual last night, not at the bar, not at a friend’s party, He was under his desk drinking and then sleeping. He never knows how he got there and the only evidence was the lot of beer bottles that littered the top of his desk next to irrelevant papers, magazines, and a broken TV. He’d done this every week for three months now in commemoration of his big brother’s death, or in his case to drown out the depression of living without him. Justin was driven head first into an acute state of alcoholism. He didn’t need drinks to get through the day; he needed it to forget, leaning on the antidepressant like a broken crutch. It never worked; his eyes would sting sharply from the vast amount of crying he did during long nights. His vision was blurry and distorted as he stared at the white paint on the ceiling. Everything happened like a reoccurring nightmare.
He always remembers it like he was still baking under the desert sun in Fallujah. The world seemed like a gigantic oven at the time. Despite the training, carrying over fifty extra pounds of battle equipment didn’t help the cause. Twice before they reach the location he’d have to remove his glove to wipe the sweat of his hands. In actuality, he was nervous; the rocking of the Humvee driving over rock and rubble matched the thumping of his heartbeat. He tried closing his eyes to relax his breathing, but in the distant corner of his mind was fear. This was his very first combat operation, the only advice he receives from the higher ups were “remember your training”, and he was finding it increasingly difficult as time moved on. The soldier sitting next to him had places his hand on his shoulder. He could barely feel the grip through the thick layered padding of shirt he wore. They exchanged a moment of silence, and then nodded in reassurance. Justin didn’t know how the adrenaline would make him react, but what happened that day made him a military hero.
Justin never paid attention to the eyes that stared at him as they drove through desert streets and bazaars. He knew he had to always be alert, but the look in everyone’s eyes were painful, almost depressing. He would see children, in worse condition than those commercial that try to get people to invest into the well-being of a child. He never trusted those people; pity was a bad method to attract business. This however changed his outlook.
“Drop the phone”!
The loud roar of his fellow soldier’s in the front snapped him out of his trance. Quickly he regained his composer and cradling his M4A1 in his hands, taking off the safety he jumped out the vehicle and checked his surroundings. There were more crowds of people gathering as on lookers at the commotion. Two soldiers continued to bark orders at the man in what was unknowingly an unknown language to him. The man continues to stare at the soldiers with a blank expression. Phones were dangerous, especially when used to detonate roadside bombs from a safe distance. Justin was constantly spinning near the humvee, checking every direction as the two soldiers in the front aimed their guns while barking orders at the man. Justin’s M4A1 had perfect accuracy, with every person that revealed their face; there was an invisible laser sight pointed at any visible vital spot. Children that were playing through the dry streets disappeared to the shade, some wrapped around the leg of their parents, others hiding while trying to remain curious.
“GOT ANOTHER PHONE”!
 Justin caught the glimpse of another man walking through the alley; reposition himself from the man upstairs with the phone. He walked as casually as an American teen walking while texting engulfed in every detail of the message. Justin caught the glimpse of his fingers moving across the plastic key pad. Without warning, Justin darted through the alley where two mean was intently looking at the soldiers trying to dissolve the situation. The soldier that was watching the rooftop darted a few steps behinds Justin, leaving two others in the front, their guns trained on the onlookers and the guy with the phone. Justin never thought of the situation he was in. He’d gone off in the direction of the second man and lost sight of him.


© Copyright 2017 Hiro. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Hiro

Vulkodlak

Book / Fantasy

End of Vengence

Short Story / Action and Adventure

Popular Tags