One Fateful Second

Flash fiction, imagining one second of modern combat

 One Fateful Second

 

            A shadow moves into a window a block away.  It is not supposed to be there.  The count automatically begins in my head, “ONE.”  I have trained a long time for this exact instant.  Perhaps it is more than training; maybe a sense of survival aids me now as well. I think to myself that it is funny how much faster the mind moves than the rest of the world.  My rifle is already up and my eyes refuse to blink.  Despite the waves of adrenaline crashing through my veins, my focus remains.  I must continue to be completely calm as the count continues, “ONE.”    I had always wondered if I would panic in such a circumstance, if my fight or flight instinct would rule the day.  Kill or be killed is what they taught us and now I was just doing my job.  I have already expelled any extraneous air from my chest, I must be perfectly still.  Strange that images of my family start flashing in the back of my mind.  My finger eases the trigger back, the count finishes in my head, “THOUSAND,” as the explosion of the newly expelled bullet pains my ears.  I feel the force of the rifle recoil into my shoulder.  I hope to God it wasn’t one of our guys moved out of position. The shadow falls away.

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

WOW. this is intense. Seriously intense. And the emotional recoil at the end. Heart in the mouth moment for sure. Are you planning to continue it?
Peace.

[Brandon Meyers]

I thought this was a really cool idea, too. Fracturing a second and inserting your story in equal parts is a pretty creative. Nice one!