The Run

I run in the forest and it is raining again. I am not soaked or cold or miserable because I am prepared. However, I am in pain. Everything is gone. Open war is in our land now. The Others have come and are trying to take away all that we deemed good and right. I managed to escape into the forest and know that I will survive, but I do not know what will become of me.

Sometimes I run. Sometimes I just walk. Yet, each time that I come close to my former civilization I only see the oppression, the injustice, and death. I do not know what to do. The only thing I know is that while I remain in the forests of my land, I'll be safe enough. So, I run some more, in the rain.

On one occasion, I am close enough to hear them; the Others. It is a small group encamped in the forest. They are too close. I can hear them. I can hear their laughter and their insulting jokes about my nation and my people. Then I hear the worst. They are getting ready for the final push. Our capital will fall. The armies of the Others surround it. This group believes itself safe enough that I hear their plans to destroy the freedoms we have held dear and to make us bow to their false god.

It finally happens. I can hold down the anger and rage building inside of me no longer. I begin to run; not away, but towards their camp. I do not shout, I do not cry out. My sidearm speaks for me. The simplicity in the violence of action takes them all by surprise. In just a minute or two, I am beyond them. They are all gone.

I continue to run. I am only one person but I know nothing else to do. I stop only when hunger, thirst, or exhaustion begs it of me. I run through the forests and the grasslands. Often, I encounter more groups of the Others; their soldiers. It is the same each time. My revenge speaks for me. Retribution is the goal. The anger and rage do not abate and their soldiers continue to die.
As I go through their units, I pick up their weapons. I gather their ammunition, their food, their clothing and supplies that I can carry. I am now using their own tools of destruction against them.

I have been running forever, it seems; yet there is more to go. I do not know why I still survive. I am tired and hungry, yet I cannot stop.

Sometimes, I run near rural towns or villages. Once or twice, I encounter patrols in these places and deal with them like all the rest. People living near there see what happened. Gradually, as I pass other backwoods homes or villages, people come out of their houses; defying the oppressors in order to give me a bottle of water, some food, or occasionally, extra ammunition.

I continue running and heading towards the capital. There is less forest to run in and I also encounter more and larger patrols. I do not know why I still live. As I pass through each patrol, the guns bark and the enemy is no more. Sometimes I am not able to kill them all and must escape by hiding and moving when they cannot see. I never look back. Rain, storms, and darkness are my friends and their enemy. I am still running.

I am close. I can see our capital ahead. The army surrounding it is thicker than flies at a funeral.

This time, I will be no more. One shot could have ended it before now, but there is no escape from this one. Their soldiers take note of me. They turn, ready to end my life.
But, they stop. I am close now and begin to see their wide eyes, their haunted stares. I don't understand, but then I can hear the sound. The drumming. The sound of...running. It is not my own feet I hear. I stop, finally stop. The noise is louder and it is coming from behind. I turn around to see what it is and I cannot believe my own eyes. Behind me, running towards me is an army of such proportions that I understand the sense of fear in the enemy. I am not running alone. I have not been running alone. Freedom will not fall today. I turn back to my task and start to run again.