Back
It was dim. Not dark, but dim. I wasn�t sure where the light was coming from, but I really didn�t care either. I placed my palm across the top of the weapon. Fingers reach-ing out for the darkness, I pulled back to load the first round of my seven bullet clip. The familiar click of the bullet loading and I pulled my hand away as it snapped back against the site. Not that I used it, I was more of a long distance shot, then right close. Besides I never really relied on the ball scope, I learned to judge with out them.
It was quiet. A little too quiet for my likings, but that was partly because I was scared. I took a step forward, away from the circle of light that acted like a�I�m not sure how to describe it. The best I can say is that it acted like that pillar of light from Heaven as it descended to Earth.
And I was walking away from it.
A second step and a third.
A new sound caught my attention. It was quiet and I barely heard it at first. It sounded like a watch alarm, continuous over and over.
Beepbeep Beepbeep
I raised my head a little and squared my shoulders looking to my right. The door was slightly ajar and I swallowed�hard.
The room was, to my great surprise, lighted. I could see a yellowish glow against the wall and I looked down. I had missed it on the grated flooring I walked on now. Rais-ing the gun to the left side of my head, pointed to the ceiling, I half skipped, half stepped closer to the door. Gaining back my confidence, I kicked the door open and leveled the pistol.
There was�the door slammed shut. I rolled my eyes, kicking it so hard; I had caused it to bounce back closed in my face. Slowly I stepped forward and with my right hand, placed my hand around the knob. The silver of the handle was cold against my skin and it sent goose bumps up my hand and arm. Turning, it clicked and squeaked as I opened it.
The room was lit by a light that hung from the ceiling. A bare room, a table was the only piece of furniture besides the bench-type seats. I took a step up and into the room; there really was nothing in the room except the table.
Lowering the pistol, something on the table caught my eye. A few pieces of paper and a pen. It was a letter to someone, the beginning of a long letter. Written in semi-neat cursive. I picked it up.
Dear Natashia,
I don�t know if you are still alive or not. I hope that you are somewhere and that you escaped this turmoil of Death that God has plagued us with.
All I can think about is you, Honey, my one and only true love, and I hope you are out there somewhere praying for me.
I have to laugh. You left that morning early, promising to leave work early so we could spend the entire evening together before I left for a tour of duty. The ring is still in my pocket, Natashia, a diamond on a silver ring, like you wanted. I was going to give it to you that night when I saw you and ask you to spend your life with me.
I�ll never get that chance now to tell you again how much I love you and how much you make me want to wake up every morning.
I�ll never again get to hold you in my arms and press my lips to yours.
I found the old post office the other day and almost came to tears; how many letters like this will never be read now because of that devastating day?
My Captain says�
It ended there. What had happened to cause this letter to stop at such an awkward word? Setting it back down, I turned and stopped. Foot steps fell and I raised the pistol again.
Leaning against the door frame, I leaned a bit forward and looked around the cor-ner. �Joby.� I sighed.
He looked at me. �Hey, man, Petri, put the gun down please. Are you crying?� he cocked his head.
�Huh?� I brought my hand to my face and brushed my fingers against my cheek. It was wet. �It must be from that letter I read.�
�You never struck me as the emotional type.�
Oh great. John. The pessimist king himself.
I squared my shoulders. �Sorry. Where was everyone?�
�They went up to the main building following a couple sets of tracks.�
I nodded. Alright so I was in charge. �John, you got a flashlight?�
�Why?� he raised an eyebrow. �For what?�
�I�m gonna see if I can�t get the lights working.�
�You don�t know anything about try the light switch?� was how the two sentences came across.
�I do too.� I looked at John. �And no, Jobe, check the lights.�
He shrugged and flicked the switch next to him. A few of the lights flickered on and he smiled. �Can not.� John protested.
�John!� I almost yelled. �Now is not the time to argue with me! We have to see if there�s anything in here we can use.� I leaned against the railing and looked down to the bottom of the base.
This one was only a two story, but the trapdoor in the floor was the same. Snap-ping my head to my left, I looked along the rounded rim of the railing, then back to my right. �Hmm. There�s no where to go, but up.�
�Or down.� Joby hopped over the railing and took the ten foot fall with style. He rolled up onto one knee, then stood up.
I followed and John being the wimp he was, took the ladder. �Ready?� I looked at John as Joby blew the dust from the cracks of the trapdoor. John swallowed and nodded. I glanced at my watch.
8:27
Shaking my head, I grabbed hold of two of the six handles. �Okay, on the count of three we lift and Joby we�ll move in your direction, okay?�
Joby nodded and John swallowed once again. �Sounds good Petri.�
�Alright,� I fixed my grip. �One...two�three.�