Some internal force lured Elliott to push the button that would detonate the bomb. A lime green clock appeared on its surface and shone on the dark cave walls. Shrill beeps pounded through the silence and trumped the wind, counting down the seconds.
“Ten seconds till the mission is complete,” the pre-recorded, automated voice called. Elliott secretly envied the monotonous but still pacifying tone.
Elliott took a breath and shut his eyes.
“Nine seconds till the mission is complete.”
He wasn’t ready, he wouldn’t ever be ready-but he hoped that he could find a way to be noble, in the eyes of someone, somewhere.
“Eight seconds till the mission is complete.” buzzed the Necromancer. Elliott threw the bomb out of the cave and winced at the sudden movement and the noise his elbow made. He then stood and waited for the echo of the Necromancer’s hitting the forest floor, but he could only hear the wind howling in the distance.
“Seven seconds till the mission is complete.”
***
Lincoln turned his back to the window and sprinted up his stairs. He was going to grab what he needed and run out of the city, away from the war. His clammy hands ran through his hair as he made a silent oath to fight this in the future. He paused as doubt overcame him. He was young and trivial and insignificant, and he stood no chance against the strongest military in the world.
Lincoln gripped the railing till the color drained out of his knuckles, and he wiped his watery eyes. He whispered, “I can do this. I’m small, but I can still fight.” And so he stood and continued to engage in the largest battle of his life.
***
Elliott’s periodic breaths became heavy. Soon, he was hyperventilating. All the energy he had put into standing up had gone to waste; he could hear a scream, a snap and a sickening crack as his ankle gave way and he collapsed on the stone-cold floor.
“Six seconds till the mission is complete.”
***
Abigail stood at CTV’s empty set. Everybody else had departed and left her alone. Her red eyes and pouty lips gave her a sour expression. Wars were bitter, and she hated that she was forced to promote such a horrible thing. She hated it so much that she had ignored her boss’s orders and retaliated against it, on live television.
She had been fired a few minutes earlier because of an unsatisfactory performance. Abigail shook her head and fought back tears while she told herself that losing her career didn’t matter, all that mattered was that she got out of the city. She was told that it was alright to have emotion, but she couldn’t have the kind that showed dissonance with the government. Abigail couldn’t do that. She had to stay true to what she knew was right and fight the regime.
She patiently waited for a sign to tell her why she was forced to break the hearts of thousands of people. Abigail knew that she was imprinted in their minds and that everyone blamed her for their sudden departure.
That’s what wars did. They put trouble within the people, where it shouldn’t be.
***
“Five seconds till the mission is complete.”
“Four seconds till the mission is complete.”
