Chapter 1: The Element of Life - 1.2

1.2

It was 5:00 Saturday morning. I dragged myself out of bed, taking care not to succumb to the splintering wood, and pulled on my uniform. Once I’d tied my boots, I silently opened my door and cautiously navigated the dark hallway. Pushing open the door that separated inside from outside, I immediately felt a blast of cold air in my face.

As I walked out on the bleak, windy morning, I looked up to see unusually dark clouds swirling in the sky above me.

It’s gonna rain, I thought with a bitter sigh.

I made my way to the gate at the edge of the city, which was our designated meeting location. Many soldiers had already assembled, and they were all packed tightly between the military buildings and the high wooden wall that surrounded the city.

The wall, made mostly of thick pine trees that had been stuck straight into the ground, served as a defense mechanism for the city, and it was topped with thick coils of electric barbed wire, so it would have been a real hassle to get over. We were gathered here because there was only one gate in the wall, so there was no other place from which you could get out.

I stood there, staring mindlessly at the backs of my fellow soldiers as I waited for the mission to begin. Slowly, as more and more packed in, the number of people joining the crowd dwindled and some important person ordered us to separate into our groups. Once the company I had been placed in were all gathered together, our captain stepped forward to address us before we headed out.

The captain, a tall and relatively young man with curly black hair, shouted, “Remember, soldiers! These are unforgivable criminals we’re up against! Even if you may know some of them from their own histories among us, do not show mercy!”

After I heard the captain proudly deliver his speech, I couldn’t help but let my doubts get to me.

So we should feel free to kill, no questions asked? I wondered if we were the ones who should really be considered criminals.

Every soldier was equipped with a carbine rifle as their primary weapon, and before we left the city, we were given a list of the names of wanted rebels and their description; we had also studied the list together in the days leading up to the operation. I thought the rebels looked pretty cool with their bounties and names listed beneath their pictures.

Well, not all of them had pictures. Funnily enough, some of them actually had pictures from when they were kids, which didn’t quite look right above the all caps “WANTED”. Just in case we didn’t realize, they’d put an asterisk below the image that said, “Photo taken as a child. May not be an accurate depiction of their current appearance.” I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows when I read that for the first time.

As for the rest of our gear, we weren’t very well equipped when it came to survival situations, so whenever we went on missions into the wilderness, we just had to hope we wouldn’t get stranded. I’d never heard of anything like that happening, though.

According to some of the older soldiers I’d talked to—I say ‘older’, but most of them were in their mid-twenties—missions used to be a lot more dangerous, but it had calmed down significantly over the years. Nowadays, it seemed like we hardly even needed soldiers, let alone a thousand of them.

Sure enough, as we filtered out through the gate, I felt a drop of cold water smack onto my nose.

Until that morning, I had been looking forward to a nice comfortable walk in the woods–to be honest, I really had no expectations of us coming across any rebels. Maybe we’d find a rogue animal or two, but there were hundreds of other soldiers who could deal with that.

Every company of soldiers started out together on the road–although, with all the cracks and overgrowth, it could hardly be considered a road anymore–so we had a massive crowd.

We had a long hike ahead of us; in fact, we were even going to end up on the lower slopes of Mt. Hood. After a few hours on the road, we split up into our predetermined companies and turned into the forest. Based on the maps we’d studied beforehand, it seemed to me that our company didn’t have a great draw in terms of the area we were supposed to search.

It was on an especially steep slope, and if you combined that with the fact that we had one hundred and fifty soldiers clumped together in a dense forest, it was going to be difficult to move quickly.

Also, there was a peak–it was a small mountain called “Zigzag Mountain”–just above where we would be searching, so it seemed all too likely for rebels to be camping at the summit, which would give them both the high ground and an easy escape down the other slopes.

As I considered it some more, I decided that we simply should not have been searching there, or, at the very least, we should have approached from a different direction.

Well, whatever, I thought. I just have to follow orders and hope I don’t die.

It took us another few hours, but we finally reached our target area. It was a forest of pines, whose deep, dark green color was accentuated by the rain dripping through their needles. The trees were short, and, thankfully, the forest wasn’t as dense as I’d been expecting, so we were able to move around without too much trouble.

The forest floor was composed of many small stones with long grasses sprouting up in the gaps between them. In contrast to the dark, looming pines, the grass had the vivid, bright green hue of summer, which made the ground look like a glowing carpet.

As we walked up the slope, I could see many shiny wet boots ahead of me slipping on the loose rocks, and I began to imagine the possibility of a human avalanche.

The rain poured down harder, now drumming rhythmically against our camo helmets. With the initial excitement of the adventure having worn off, everyone entered the state of soaking wet and miserable–at least, most of us did. There are always those weirdos who would say something like, “It’s a privilege to enjoy the wonders of nature, regardless of the weather!” or claim that it’s just another part of the job.

As the soles of my boots sunk into the dull, gray mountain scree, I decided that nature was overrated.

When the slope started to really kick up, becoming a wall of slick mud and jagged rocks, the dark silhouette of the captain raised his hand and shouted for everyone to stop.

With the deep, bruised green of the pines behind him, he turned around wearing a firm expression on his face, one that he’d clearly practiced in the mirror beforehand. He seemed determined to make some sort of speech about the importance and/or dangers of the mission.

He furrowed his brow and shouted out in a deep voice, “Alright, everyone!” His voice strained against the rising wind. “Now is the time to be on guard! Assume the posit—”

BOOOOOM

The sound hit me as a physical blow. My teeth vibrated and soundwaves cracked through the air, punching the breath straight out of my gut.

Our captain had been eliminated. In a single moment, he went from a living human to a limp rag doll and tumbled head over heels at his comrades. His forehead appeared to have exploded, and his face was painted red.

Frenzy.

The company shattered. Grown men who considered themselves to be tough clambered over each other, slipping and sliding in the bloody mud as they made a desperate attempt to flee.