Friday 1 June 2012

Fiction: War Torn pt. 1 (of 2): Guardian


The orbital bombardment was miles away but the tremors still shook the burnt out carcasses of the broken buildings. There was nothing worth shelling in the city anymore, there was barely enough for the few scavenging refugees who had slunk back in.

Ryan was kneeling on the floor in front of Samantha. They were sequestered in a half-collapsed hotel and he paused as concrete shards and dust pattered down from the cracked ceiling. When the trembling ceased he carefully held the plastic spoon up to her mouth and pushed the purée past her lips. Her eyes flickered while she slup slupped at the mush and her head jerked as she swallowed convulsively, but at least it was going down.

When the jar was empty he licked the spoon clean and sat it on top of the case of baby food, their last case, half empty already. They would have to move on soon, but it simply wasn’t safe for them to go out.

Ryan stroked her head. A fuzz of dark hair had re-grown everywhere on her scalp except the rucked skin of the scar that ran from just above her left temple down to the nape of her neck. The scar was still thick, pink, but not as livid as it had been.

“We might have to make a run for it, Sam. We'll see who’s around come nightfall.”

He kissed her on the forehead.

“You have to drink something too. Sorry.”

He carefully tilted her chin back and held the bottle to her lips. He let a little trickle out, so she knew what was coming, then carefully poured a little more. It was a drawn out process, with more convulsive gulping, and the occasional weak choke when he timed it wrong, or tried to pour too much at once.

“There. Done.”

He wiped her chin dry with a piece of cloth torn from his spare shirt, and carefully untucked another rag he was using as a bib. He leant forward and rested his head on her shoulder. He stayed there a moment, holding one of Samantha’s hands in his own, then he sighed deeply and stood up.

He hung the rags of shirt up to dry before carefully making his way into the adjoining room. The curtains were drawn, but he had purposefully left a gap he could peer through. He couldn’t risk twitching the material; there was no glass, but there was no wind either and someone might notice the movement.

It was dangerous, leaving his lookout position to feed Sam, but it had to be done. It was worse at night. He barely managed a few hours sleep when exhaustion dragged him down, but it was fitful and his paranoia dragged him back up soon afterwards. He worried he was disturbing Sam, too, with his angry, futile nightmares. If she could be disturbed.

The rumble of another distant round of bombardment washed through the streets. The city quaked and cried its tears of grey. And something crept under the crumbling of masonry; somebody was using the disturbance for cover. Ryan had got used to the feel of the city, and it suddenly felt wrong.

One of the shadows in the building opposite was trying too hard to be a shadow. It was subtle, but he had that unsettled feeling that looking at optic camo often generated. Civilians would put it down to something in their eye, heat haze, imagination, but Ryan wasn’t a civilian.

He stepped cautiously back from the window and slipped his combat knife from his ankle sheath, holding it so the blade was below his fist, edge forward.

He crept towards the open doorway. No door made it harder to sneak up on him, and there was definitely someone sneaking out there. Several someones. He heard the quiet shffing of their clothes, the soft, sliding steps of their careful approach. They stopped.

A deep voice echoed down the corridor.

“Lieutenant Ryan Andrews.”

The spotter must have told them he had moved away from the window, that he knew they were coming.

“Surrender and she lives.”



****
Recommended reading:

Dismissed, by Pete Newman.
(spot the shameless self-promotion... Dismissed is the first story not written by me to go live on my drabble project: 101 Fiction. Please go check it out, it's a fantastic, tiny slice of surreal fiction. And say hello! ^_^ )

And in case you missed it, I blogged yesterday about 101F and about my forthcoming anthology, including a glimpse at the very-much-in-progress cover design - comments and critiques welcome. =)

20 comments:

  1. Wow that was beautifully visual. The main character was strong and focused and yet he showed us his tender side in his attendance to the girl.

    This was compelling reading - very good.

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  2. Particularly liked the paragraph starting "One of the shadows in the building opposite..."
    Interesting glimpse of backstory there!

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    1. Thanks, Mazzz. =)

      The more I think about it the more I feel I could explore with this. It's two parts for now... but it might grow in the future... =)

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  3. Not a shabby first half! Was it always your intention to close on the ultimatum, John?

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    1. I only intended it as a single flash, then as I approached 1,000 words I started trying to rush the rest of what I had in mind, realised it just wasn't going to fit, and relaxed into a higher wordcount. So after I had finished I went back and looked for a good break, then rewrote that part. =)

      Thank you, John. =)

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  4. Beautiful cliffhanger in contrast to the ugliness around them. He'd been watched for longer than he knows, it seems.

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    1. Thanks, Larry. =)

      I kind of miss cliffhanging serials... ;)

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  5. Interesting. I think the presence of the baby food underlines the parallel of Sam being completely dependent.

    Looking forward to part 2.

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    1. Thank you, Pete. Let's hope it can live up to expectations! ^_^

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  6. Wow I really enjoyed this! I'm interested in the next part. Feels ominous and I look forward to that.

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    1. Thanks, hope you enjoy the second part as much. =)

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  7. Nice way to amp up the tension. They certainly raised the stakes nicely at the end. He's a hero I'm rooting for to rescue his daughter and flip the tables.

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    1. Thanks, Aidan. =)

      hmm... I failed in the storytelling there, she's not meant to be his daughter. =s

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  8. Amongst the horror of the bombardment and the ruins, there is a feeling of tenderness as he feeds the child, and a sense of hope running through the desperation of the situation.

    Last night I watched a documentary on the siege of Stalingrad, and the images of the rubble-strewn city were sharp in my mind as I read through this.

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    1. Thank you, Steve.

      As I replied to Aidan above, I failed as a storyteller there, I hadn't envisaged Sam as a child, but didn't supply any markers indicating either way. I suppose it's natural to assume she's a child given the way he cares for her, and I should have described her more.

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  9. I've always felt characters like Samantha slown down, restrain in some aspects the protagonist, the hero preventing him to show his full potential, but in reality they are the ballance, the sanity, the humanity factor as a whole, constantly reminding that the story told is about people that hurt and die. So having her there in this shaking like a mad beast, crumbling, dying city is great and brings a more complicated situation. Also that cliffhanger!

    Tension building up when the shadows show their faces.. part 2 hopefully tomorrow! Looking forward to it.

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    1. Thank you, Cindy. =)

      I think you have to show sides other than the hero's... heroicness (for want of a better word... ;) ).

      Take Superman, for example, basically invulnerable, goody two shoes, dull guy. Show some vulnerable side to him, (Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen, Kryptonite etc...) and he suddenly gets interesting... =)

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  10. Late to this, sorry, John.

    It's funny, I too read Sam as a child, but not his daughter. But, because I initally read her as a child, I immediately then assumed she wasn't, waiting for you to surprise me!

    I love the idea of getting used to the feel of the city, of shadows seeming out of place.

    Nice work.

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    1. That does sound like the kind of thing I would do, but I never intended to trick people into thinking she was a child. My doc now has red capitals across it telling me to describe her more when I edit this up... ;)

      Thanks, Jack. =)

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