May/June Short Story Comp - Invasion: Resistance Tales

[Modern Panther]

The Extremists

Matt's burden was heavy.  It always had been.

The Camp had been home since Matt was twelve.  A Sergeant with a loudhailer had informed them that the estate was to be cleared.  Terrorists had been hiding in the houses.  It was for their own safety.  Mum had said it would be like camping.  Everyone would pull together, reassured Dad, just like in the Blitz.

Matt's burden was heavy and made it difficult to walk.

Dysentery ended Mum's camping trip a week before Christmas.  Dad carried her to the funeral pyre by himself, the Blitz spirit nowhere to be seen.  As Matt watched the smoke drift into the sky, John comforted him.  John said that she was in a better place.

John was older, but younger than the men.  Old enough to have learned something of the world.  Old enough to have seen the fighting and the executions. To the boys of the camp, he was a natural leader.

You could leave the Camp, of course.  The Volgans didn't care.  You could walk the eight miles to town, where the local men would spit at you and the women would hold tight their purses as they queued for rations.  John called them "collaborators".  You could walk all the way up to the fence that surrounded the watchtower in town and hear Volg soldiers snort at each other in their guttural tongue.  Ubiquitous uniforms with fresh faced men and women behind them.  It was terrible, John said, that they did this to women.  Sending women to kill and die was cowardly.  They should be at home, with their children.

Matt's burden was heavy and his mouth was dry.

In the summer, the Red Cross water tanks arrived half full. 
There's not enough food and water, John said, because the world doesn't care.  The Volgans have our oil now and as long as it keeps flowing the businessmen who run the world don't care who starves.    They should be ashamed, John taught the boys, because the British had given the world Law and Order.  They had lifted savages out of darkness and brought God to every civilized nation on Earth.

Matt's burden was heavy and the straps cut into his shoulders.

Whilst parents worked all day for a few pounds, or begged in the street, or drank and fought themselves into oblivion, John had gathered his flock.  The Americans wouldn't save them, preached John.   They cared only about themselves.  They knew how the people of Britain suffered and they watched their televisions and ate their burgers and drank their coca-cola.  They live their lives of plenty.  They will not save us.  We must save ourselves.

Matt reached the watchtower fence and breathed for the first time since his journey began.  The bomb John had built had finally been delivered and his own life given purpose. He pressed hard on the trigger button and his burden was lifted.

[COMMANDO FORCES]

Mortar Attack



"INCOMIIIIIIING!"
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"Bill......Bill...............BIIIIIILL!"