19
Wyatt
2012
Ihear a noise, faint at first, but then it gets louder, closer. I’m not about to make the same mistake. We would not be caught off guard.
“Josh,” I whisper into the dark tent and get no reply.
Sweat coats my face, and I take in deep, leveled breaths. I’ll get out and get some help. Maybe I’ll shake Josh awake, and we’ll be able to tackle the fucking spy.
I climb off my cot and move stealthily to where my friend sleeps. It’s dark, and light snoring fills the tent.
He’s out. He stayed behind at the campfire, and I was asleep when he got in.
I grab my rifle and step out of the opening.
The moon shines high in the sky. It gives me confidence. Someone is on our side; we will not be disadvantaged this time.
I see a figure scurrying towards me. He ducks between the trees, making his way to our campsite.
I hear a rustle in the bushes, and men bolt up from all sides. I fire, and the stumbling enemy falls to his knees. Men scream and shout from behind me as we are thrown into the throngs of war yet again. I shoot and make my way forward. I hear a rustling in the bushes from the direction of the man I shot first. I run ahead and cock my gun. I’ll end him once and for all.
But when I reached the clearing, I fall to my knees because on the ground is my best friend, my brother.
“Josh!” I shout. “Josh!”
“You got me this time.” He tries to make light of it.
I move over to where he lies bleeding.
“I’m so fucking sorry.”
He shakes his head. “You were right to fire. You scared them, and now you’ll save our men. You alerted them in time.”
“You’re going to make it. I’ll just--”
He wraps a hand around mine. His grip failing.
“Find the girl and fix her heart.”
Tears slip from my eyes and trail down my cheeks as I struggle out of his vice grip.
“And tell Erin . . . Tell her I love her until the end, and that . . .” He coughs, and I’m losing my composure, leaning over him, tears streaming down my face. “I’ll see her on the other side of tomorrow.”
And with that, my friend’s eyes roll back as he takes his last breath.
“No!” I shout, shaking him. “Josh, no! No!” I shake him again, whimpering. But there is no response, and then I feel the dizziness, my vision blurring as I lie back and listen to the war rage on around us.
“I’m sorry, man,” I cry. “I’m so sorry.”
Pretty blue eyes beckon me, hair the color of sunshine and the laughter of an angel.
And then . . . Nothing.
