Disposable heroes
Black. The smell of seared carcasses permeated night air. Faint smoke billowed slowly across the horizon. No one in sight. There was the sporadic snap and hiss of an aged fire. The soft howl of the wind disturbed the white ash and flustered the flames. It seemed peaceful. For once in Zin Saunder's war torn existence, it seemed, still, like the calm after a hurricane's fury. But Zin knew this not to be true. The hurricane was always over him?"he was just in the eye. His platoon had been celebrating for the past hour or so. He had chosen not to divert his attention from the danger ahead. He knew this quiet was only temporary. A ruse meant to distract and confuse. His comrades had to be roused out of their disillusioned state. They thought they had won a battle. They had won a sacrifice. Ever since the skirmish at Denkappa Hill, the soldiers had paraded as they burnt the corpses of their fallen adversaries. They were elated to have defeated so many'so many!"at the cost of so little. Never had they slaughtered such a host without paying dearly in their own numbers. This was truly cause for joyous celebration. After every single creature had been scorched, Zin was beckoned to come indoors with the others to join in the camaraderie. He decided not to. He decided to recollect. To remember what had come before. Polar to most of the survivors" ignorance of what had happened, Zin Saunders was struck to his very core by every agonizing detail of his past and everyone else's. Everyone's apocalypse. Though not very many know why it's called the Second Apocalypse, for few can remember the first, it is generally accepted as the second end of the world. And it is definitely accepted as the reason for the Resident Aliens" existence, commonly known as the Array. They had arrived around the year 2247 A.D. in the catastrophe that left the Earth's populous a little over one hundred thousand. There were now clusters of people of all ages using whatever weapons they could find to repel the Array for just one more onslaught. There were even divisions of men scattered out trying to protect themselves and their families. To protect their race. Their existence. Very few were around during the First Apocalypse, but of those few, Zin knew of the first attempt to wipe the slate clean. He remembered vividly that the fire rained out of Heaven itself in 2197 A.D. He was only seven then, and was understandably frightened. He recalled living underground while the sky and ground were perpetually singed and battered. This nightmarish scene continued for precisely ten years. It frightened grown men. Children had no reason to be ashamed of their fear. The earth danced with hellfire. Everyone was scared. Even Zin. He knew he should've saved them. But he was weak. Weak when he should've been strong. When the first smoldering meteor struck the yard, his parents called to him to go to the cellar. He did as he was told. His parents were still retrieving his younger brother from his crib. When they arrived at the cellar entrance, they found it locked shut. They called out to Zin to let them in, but he had locked himself in. For a few seconds he could hear their desperate cries, but could do nothing to save them. His fear had frozen him. He could hear the muffled sound of the fire and fury raining down, and the soft thud of his heart telling him he would be fine. His fear had stolen his memory of his family for an instant that had cost him their lives. The Array was his chance to repay them. It was a way to get his retribution and repentance. When it finally ceased, the human race was given a forty year grace period. Scientists and scholars debated over what had caused it. They argued over whether it was a freak meteor shower or if the rings of Saturn had lost their gravitational pull. They stalled when they should have been preparing. And as if incited by the planet's resilience, God Himself struck down with exponential might that crippled and mangled the Earth to an extent never before seen. But some resisted the fury. Zin had lived through the ferocity and come out of it with a scar that no one could see. A scar that might never heal. He lived those forty years praying for a way to truly prove his worth. And now that he had his chance, he knew what had to be done. * * *
Black. The smell of seared carcasses permeated night air. Faint smoke billowed slowly across the horizon. No one in sight. There was the sporadic snap and hiss of an aged fire. The soft howl of the wind disturbed the white ash and flustered the flames. It seemed peaceful. For once in Zin Saunder's war torn existence, it seemed, still, like the calm after a hurricane's fury. But Zin knew this not to be true. The hurricane was always over him?"he was just in the eye. His platoon had been celebrating for the past hour or so. He had chosen not to divert his attention from the danger ahead. He knew this quiet was only temporary. A ruse meant to distract and confuse. His comrades had to be roused out of their disillusioned state. They thought they had won a battle. They had won a sacrifice. Ever since the skirmish at Denkappa Hill, the soldiers had paraded as they burnt the corpses of their fallen adversaries. They were elated to have defeated so many'so many!"at the cost of so little. Never had they slaughtered such a host without paying dearly in their own numbers. This was truly cause for joyous celebration. After every single creature had been scorched, Zin was beckoned to come indoors with the others to join in the camaraderie. He decided not to. He decided to recollect. To remember what had come before. Polar to most of the survivors" ignorance of what had happened, Zin Saunders was struck to his very core by every agonizing detail of his past and everyone else's. Everyone's apocalypse. Though not very many know why it's called the Second Apocalypse, for few can remember the first, it is generally accepted as the second end of the world. And it is definitely accepted as the reason for the Resident Aliens" existence, commonly known as the Array. They had arrived around the year 2247 A.D. in the catastrophe that left the Earth's populous a little over one hundred thousand. There were now clusters of people of all ages using whatever weapons they could find to repel the Array for just one more onslaught. There were even divisions of men scattered out trying to protect themselves and their families. To protect their race. Their existence. Very few were around during the First Apocalypse, but of those few, Zin knew of the first attempt to wipe the slate clean. He remembered vividly that the fire rained out of Heaven itself in 2197 A.D. He was only seven then, and was understandably frightened. He recalled living underground while the sky and ground were perpetually singed and battered. This nightmarish scene continued for precisely ten years. It frightened grown men. Children had no reason to be ashamed of their fear. The earth danced with hellfire. Everyone was scared. Even Zin. He knew he should've saved them. But he was weak. Weak when he should've been strong. When the first smoldering meteor struck the yard, his parents called to him to go to the cellar. He did as he was told. His parents were still retrieving his younger brother from his crib. When they arrived at the cellar entrance, they found it locked shut. They called out to Zin to let them in, but he had locked himself in. For a few seconds he could hear their desperate cries, but could do nothing to save them. His fear had frozen him. He could hear the muffled sound of the fire and fury raining down, and the soft thud of his heart telling him he would be fine. His fear had stolen his memory of his family for an instant that had cost him their lives. The Array was his chance to repay them. It was a way to get his retribution and repentance. When it finally ceased, the human race was given a forty year grace period. Scientists and scholars debated over what had caused it. They argued over whether it was a freak meteor shower or if the rings of Saturn had lost their gravitational pull. They stalled when they should have been preparing. And as if incited by the planet's resilience, God Himself struck down with exponential might that crippled and mangled the Earth to an extent never before seen. But some resisted the fury. Zin had lived through the ferocity and come out of it with a scar that no one could see. A scar that might never heal. He lived those forty years praying for a way to truly prove his worth. And now that he had his chance, he knew what had to be done. * * *