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Rated: E · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1189721
A short piece of writing, briefly following a man trying to escape from a machine
- The Plain   

        Silence. I step out over the barren plain, my every footstep lifting up a cloud of dust. The gun I cradle in my arms smokes gently and the breeze carries the fumes away to the south. The last attack had been several miles back and the wound I had sustained from it hinders the movement in my leg. I am the lucky one.

         The machina sidles over the dunes and pours down the hill towards me. I drop to one knee and start firing, spraying lead into the unstoppable mass that approaches. The bullets thud into the ground to my left, sending up clouds of sand which hide the enemy.

        My instincts take over, the training that has been drilled into me so hard turns on. I fire bursts of shot into the cloud and scramble to the right, just as the machina comes  screaming through the sand. I Unpin a grenade and throw it, diving onto the ground as the explosion strikes home. A rush of hot air bursts over my head and i know my luck has held out.

        Slowly i get back up and blunder towards the wreakage that was the proud machina. It shines a light blue in the harsh sunlight and momentarily blinds me. A tear trickles down my cheek and drops onto the gunmetal casing, instantly evaporating in the boiling heat. Why? Why me? Why did they all have to die? The questions buzz  through my head in a wave of saddness. The wars have taken everyone i have ever known or loved, why not me too...

    Anger overcomes me. I kick the broken machina and fire several rounds into its bulk, it was the machina. They started the war. They killed my friends. They ambushed my section. It was them. I kick the machina, curse and turn around to face the empty expanse before me. The blue, cloudless, sky lies in a huge dome above. Arcing over to  the horizon. Ahead of me there is very little, apart from dust, sand and a dried up river bed. I follow the course of the river with my eyes and watch it curve easily around the edge of a dune.

        I weigh up my options, maybe i will be able to see the coast from that dune, then i will take it from there.

                        *                  *                  *



The scent of blood hung heavy on the air, blades flashed in the glorious moonlight. Shuans eyes watched intently as the two men fought furiously, dancing the beautiful dance that could only result in death. The folded steel blades sythed through the night and clashed upon each other with a vengence. Neither man uttered a sound but moved so fast that the naked human eye couldn't follow. Shuan watched with interest as both warriors pushed deeper into the rift, seeking ultimately to out fight their opponent. There was a sudden increase in tempo as one of the fighters surged deeper into the rift and the other struggled to keep up. All of a sudden there was a explosion of red and one man fell to the ground. The victorious warrior smiled grimly, sheafed his sword and left the dojo.


                        *                  *                  *

I feel the call of the rift, and resist it. I Wouldnt be strong enough. I would hit the vale and die instantly, my life force drawn out by its power. I blunder on over the sand, dragging every footstep...

(to be continued)
© Copyright 2006 Zakalwe (zakalwe at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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